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#but god I wanna beat up my mental illness

krashoutluv · 4 months

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Arkham Knight Relationship HCS !! <3

( light nsfw, mostly SFW tho!! )

literally my wife ( i made this pic idc abt creds i just wanna talk abt it)

SFW !! <3

dying on this hill when i say basically any red hood would be soo yummy with a civilian or just someone who is extremely balanced.

im a red hood needs more fucking normalcy in his life TRUTHER.

relationship starts off slow, romantic and platonic, you need to be patient with him long enough for him to get over his mental dilemmas to feel ANY-TYPE of way towards you.

more then like 6 months lets be real yall

his way of bonding is quality time. ill die on this hill, especially at the start of the relationship. Nothing huge maybe just spending a couple extra minutes around you before leaving.

next is probably gift giving, esp with early relations, probably just gonna order you food or put fifty bucks on your countertop. you dont even notice until you realize you find a fifty around the last place he was standing. expect deliveries from R.H whenever he feels bad for something.

doesn't like being around for too long, feels like he's messing up something. ruining your day by keeping you up late (he was there for fifteen minutes), ruining your mood, (there was an awkward silence for like 30 seconds.)

not a overly conscious thought process though, he feels physically he isn’t supposed to be there. for whatever subconscious thing he picked up on, a awkward silence, or hes been there 15 minutes too long or something

well sometimes he'll mentally beat himself up.

he spirals a lot, needs someone to pull him out of that.

i think when he needs to be grounded, its not just comfort its making him feel alive in the present moment. he's never gonna truly forget about his traumas but maybe for just an hour or two; running around an arcade, walking around the city. just making him feel normal, yeah you BAGGED his ass quick.

he needs someone patient, really patient, someone whos very attentive and empathetic. (but not a complete push- over def needs someone to set him in line still)

i think if you move to quickly, he'll get super snappy and ghosting you,, ong put ur hands on him too early and he's left hooking you.

yeah you're waking up and the first thing your hearing is "Its been 12 years..."

second thing you hear is "you've been in a coma for.. 12 years."

third thing you're hearing is, " we think a bus hit you...”

obviously not touchy, even when he is settling down. hes just not sure how to .. or where to .. or why he wants too.

please his mental gymnastics get so crazy, just sit down with him and put on some silly ass movie so he stops

when he’s settled he cant pry himself off you though.

a lot of his expressions can definitely be told by his body language, naturally hes tense but theres certain habits he has when he's maybe thinking too much, or fustrated/irritated.

but he does all of the same for you, comfort, love, as much as he can he tries

Very attentive, has a mental list of 'shit you do when somethings wrong' or 'shit you like.'

doesn't consciously make any of these mental list, he just knows.

"didnt they say they liked this?" He pauses "shit ill just leave it at their window."

so he's like canonically smart as shit.

you have too much work from your boss or professor? hand it over its done in less then two hours.

literally buys you groceries and pays your bills (fucking lover boy.)

arkham knight finally figuring out how to ask for a hug (hes been dead silent for 5 minutes) (link) <— insta reel

HES A CHEM/HISTORY NERD FOR SURE

NSFW !! <3

probably- A FUCKING VIRGIN !! HES A NERD !! GETS AWKARD AS SHIT. WITH RAGING COMMITMENT AND TRUST ISSUES !! (will still die4you tho)

AGAIN, not in a "my soft squishe potato always been scared of sex" way but in a ‘oh my god hes so unsocialized’ way.

yall ever see a big ass dog just..standing.. literally him (hes dissociating)

genuinely dont believe that when he was arkham/training to be, he was sexually or romantically involved with anyone. the last thing that was on his mind was actually pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship.

along with his trauma, he just wasn’t comfortable with any of that.

ghosted so many people..

couldn’t flirt for more then five minutes, just stopped feeling it or got uncomfortable .

I AM ANTI ARKHAM KNIGHT BEING A SEX GOD

not that he’s horribly awkward, but he’s noticeably a bit more quiet for first times.

ofc this man has watched porn n’ shit but hes smart enough to know thats not what its really like.

he’ll still figure it, what makes you tic, what you love, what makes you most comfortable.

kinda shitty at dirty talk, just makes him buffer.

he gets better at it tho, too damn good

gets so snarky and confident about it too uuhgrr

late relationships hes smirking and chatting your ears off cause you know hes gettin you turnt.

he has a love-hate relationship with his scars. 95% they remind him of his past, but 5% hes alright with them because they’ve shown what hes been through.

deep, deep, deep, deep, deep down, he knows hes fine as fuck. TRUST YALL.

again, super observant and attentive. really pays attention to what you enjoy.

I genuinely don’t believe hes into super hardcore/painful kinks or anything.

Sex for him is definitely a way of showing his trust and intimacy with someone!! Let him show you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you feel good! Do the same to him !!

mmm tell him how good hes doing and hes a absolute mess!!

praise him! PRAISE HIM *im yelling from the hospital bed im strapped down on*

wouldn’t let you ride for awhile, but once he’s comfortable with it ,, he’s actually obsessed.

cant see him bottoming , just wouldn’t be comfortable with it

my brain is getting messy so im stopping here! feedback and comments would be cool if you wanna drop some!

#jason todd #jason peter todd #jason todd x reader #arkham knight x reader #arkham knight #arkham knight smut #jason todd smut #jason todd headcanon #arkham knight headcanon #jason todd hc #red hood x reader #red hood smut

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val-cansalute · 3 months

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PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 6

ch. 1 ch. 2 ch.3 ch. 4 ch. 5

don’t be a piece of shit

cw - set in jackson with an unclear timeline, no mentions of joel or jj, kind of half proofread, profanities, depictions of mental illness, graphic situations, CUNNILINGUS 🤰, mdni

Seconds, which blur the line between moments and hours, drag by, yet breaths still come in sharp, ragged gasps.

Your chest still feels heavy, bearing the lingering weight of the memories that overwhelmed you, and the stale, dust-ridden air of your old home still churns maliciously within your rib cage though you’re far from it now. Nothing is proving helpful in satiating your ravenous lungs.

Her hand is already soothing tender circles into your back before you can register it and the violence of your inhale softens.

“Shimmer?” you repeat, words veiled by winded breaths.

“Yeah, that’s right,” like it’s second nature to her, Ellie moves her calloused hand so that it’s splayed across your thumping heart to gently ground you and the room stops spinning so frustratingly.

Your focus shifts to her touch, to the warmth that radiates from her palm.

“It’s kinda fuckin’ impressive you managed to go so long without learning any of their names,” as always, her voice is a quiet rasp, intimate and gentle as a smile plays at her chapped lips.

In contrast, your gaze is intense and, somehow, distant. It makes Ellie’s stomach twist with anxiety.

“Wasn’t planning on staying.”

“… Right. Well, you should probably learn them now.”

You’re back in Jackson – not in your home, but in Ellie’s decrepit hybrid shed, which somehow managed to outdo your actual house by miles.

What your home lacked, hers carried in abundance; warmth and soul, with pictures and posters scattered across the dulled walls and memories laced through the trinkets lining each shelf. It was alive with the force of her affection.

Coming back invited the questioning gaze of the townspeople, but your mind was too tired to pay it any mind, or to pay the fact that she was leading you away from your house any mind either.

“The place you went to... You used to live there? I, uh, saw a carving of your name and your brother’s, I think it was, in the fence. Soren, right?”

“Yeah… Me and Soren…”

“… Listen… Why did you do it? You didn’t wanna be there, I know that much. You were... fucked up, to say the least, when I found you. I don’t understand.”

“I don't know… I don’t want to be safe; I don’t deserve to be safe-”

Your heart beats sporadically at the sudden overbearing guilt inside you, the source of which you can’t trace back to a specific moment, and your breath hitches in your throat so you can't meet her worried eyes. There are so many actions you cannot justify at all, save for the fact that there was a massive remorseful compulsion to do it. For Soren, even though you know, deep down, he’d never have wanted this, you know you did it for him. You’ll never fully be able to explain why, or why you ended up going back with Ellie without argument.

“Hey, I'm here." her soothing voice cuts through the dense anxiousness in the air and, for a moment, the fog clears - the sight of her softened face, so endearing.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Her eyes are so beautiful; it's so easy to forget what you were even thinking about when you dive into them.

"You- fuck- you know that’s stupid, right? Of course you deserve to be safe, y/n, how could you not deserve that?"

You’re a fraud. You had everyone fooled, thinking you had morals, but you can’t let her believe in a falsehood. The words burst out like rust-ridden water from a burst pipe; so explosively that she jerks back slightly, eyebrows knitted in worry.

"Because I’m bad person! You don’t know me, Ellie! I killed him! I fucking beat him to death! I am so fucking disgusting!"

"You-"

"Oh my god, Ellie, he was just a fucking kid! And he was terrified! Terrified of what would happen if he let the infection take over and terrified of hurting me! Fuck, and he begged me to do it before he turned, but I couldn't fucking do it! How could I?! And then I beat him to death as soon as he came for me, because I am a coward, and when it came down to it, all it took was a little scare for me to hurt him so fucking badly... God, Ellie, it didn’t have to be like that; it shouldn’t have fucking been like that but I’m so selfish… He was all I had left… Without him, I’m nothing… But I fucking deserve it. I deserve all the shit that comes my way. And I have to take it. All of it."

Somewhere amidst the fire, she grabs your shoulders and pulls you closer,

"Y/N, no. Deep down, you know that's not true. He was just a kid but -fucking- so were you! You were just a kid, and it's not fair that you had to fend for yourself! It's not fair that you and your brother had to live like this! It's not fair that he got infected, or that anyone did, and it is not your fault that your choice had the consequences it did when you were panicked and desperate and young. It is not your fault it happened the way it did. This world... Nothing about it is fair. Even though I can’t replace him, and I don’t know you as well as him, I care about you and I want to be around you. And I know for a fact that you are not a bad person, and I fucking know that. You are not a bad person. What happened back then was not evil, it was tragic, not evil. You can’t forget it, and you shouldn’t! But your brother would never want you to be stuck in this awful cycle. He would never blame you like this. Shit happens, we do things we regret and life doesn't go the way we plan, we lose people we love, but we move forward. We have to. And you are not alone, not while I’m here, you can never be."

Her words are harsh and sharp, to get through to you, nicking little chips at the edges of your iron-strong resolve. For the first time, you let yourself consider it, and the strength of your guilt’s hold loosens up just a bit.

Through pooling tears that threaten to fall and the lump that sits tight in your throat, you reach out your arms to bury your face into the warmth of her shoulder, and push your shaky, cracking voice out.

“I miss him so much… I can’t stop thing about it… I can’t stop feeling like this…”

Ellie immediately collects your draped body into a fervid hold, trying desperately to cling onto the rare openings you allow her.

“It’s gonna be okay. Just give yourself time. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise you.”

6 MONTHS LATER

The Tipsy Bison’s doors are held wide open, but great gusts of wind are no match for the laughter, clinking of glasses and constant hum of conversation within.

Somewhere amongst the bundles of life, you are sat at a rickety table beside Ellie, Dina, and Jesse, and are fitting in like a puzzle piece beyond all capabilities of your imagination when you first arrived in Jackson.

Jesse’s eyes held fast to Dina, who’s head was thrown back in a wholehearted cackle over something relatively insignificant. You were all slumped in your chairs with great big grins, flushed faces and strands of hair clinging to your clammy necks, in high spirits.

Your heart feels full. For the first time, you can go out and laugh freely without the intense gaze of your overwhelming guilt or constant, racing thoughts of Soren. Panic attacks lie dormant for longer than you’d ever dreamed of.

Ellie’s gaze reaches you, and the way your heart swells with all-consuming affection is mutual. You can tell from the way she looks at you, all warm and admiring.

For a second, the sight of the people behind her falls away and you are the only people left in the room, in the world. Here, you are with people who care about you, want to be around you. Here, there is a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

After a moment, the pink-tinged apples of her cheeks fatten with a sincere, toothy grin, hazy eyes squinting as they flit down to her glass, and you notice that the number of people here has actually dwindled.

“Oh shit, everyone’s gone, I didn’t even realise.” Dina mumbled, scanning the room. Jesse lazily rose from his chair, stretching as he looked back at her,

“We should probably get going too, huh. I'll see you two tomorrow, then.” He nodded over to both of you before huddling together with Dina and drunkenly walking off.

You look back to Ellie; she’s leaning back in her chair, legs spread in a way that brings on certain feelings, raising her glass to her parted lips and her eyes never leave yours.

You watch her swallow the last traces of whiskey and set the glass down before tilting her head at you with a smirk. You’re both drunk, warm, fuzzy, tingly.

Her eyebrows raise before she gets up and leans over, and whispering,

“C’mon, babe,” into your ear.

As you stroll back, you’re met with the refreshing cool night air and you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment, hand in hand with Ellie, watching her ramble on. Your hushed giggles carry through the empty paths.

When you arrive at Ellie's place, stumbling through the door, you collapse onto her bed. This place has become more of a home than your real home; you’re almost never not spending the night. Among the clusters of trinkets and piles of clothes, your belongings have found a place, as well as the acrylic image of your face amidst her paintings.

Candlelight, the room is bathed in the soft orangey glow, casting shadows that dance and flicker across Ellie’s grinning face. You cling onto her dearly, intertwining your limbs with flushed cheeks and gazing up at her longingly, light and airy.

You settle into a comfortable silence with your bodies pressed against each other while she stares up down at her rough palm as you trace, with gentle and loving touches, the lines engraving it, the weight of the world momentarily forgotten.

She pecks your cheek,

“Are you sleepy?”

You look up at her with a sly smirk,

“No. Are you?”

“Nuh uh, you know what I’m thinking?”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re thinking?”

You rise from your spot, nestled into her side, taking the hand you were playing with and entwining your fingers as you hover over her. The look on her face is mellow yet excited, her hands already reach out for your waist, already making your body feel hotter.

“You gonna show me, babe?”

She pulls you closer so you dive into the soft crook of her neck, sensitive with trails of tingling skin where you place kisses, desperate to feel the warmth her body emits, desperate for her to feel so incredibly real to you, for her to overwhelm your senses. You’ve never been infatuated quite like this before, never felt quite so comfortable with the love you hold for a person. But with Ellie, it’s simple, easy, comes naturally to you. She’s so many things, but, especially a sanctuary. A sanctuary weathered by the storms of your past but still standing firm.

“Mhmm, I’m gonna show you, Els.”

Ellie’s slumped at the head of her dingy bed.

Her body is bare and her muscles are tensing with each desperate, visceral movement, glowing with a thin sheen of sweat and slick,, as she kneads her fingers into the fat of your ass and meets your lips hungrily.

You hold onto her freckled face, looking down at her fucked out, beautiful eyes. They’re just begging for more after giving it to you for so long, consolidated by the sparkly feeling of her grinding up onto you,

“You’re so hot,”

“Oh, am I?” you mutter, pushing her back against the mattress and watching her eyes widen while chuckling to yourself,

“Wha- Alright, jesus fuck,”

You crawl off her lap with deliberate sexuality, pushing her legs apart abruptly. She clambers up onto her arms but you push her back, watching her tits bounce as she collapses,

“Shut up, El,”

“Oh, I see how it is, you aren’t fucking around anymore. No more mr nice guy, no funny busin-”

“Dude, fucking stop, you just, like, made me un-wet,”

“Oh shit, gotta get serious.”

You smack her thigh gently.

She grins and folds her arms behind her head, her eyes never leaving yours as you lower yourself in front of her pussy. Yours narrow ever so slightly when she grabs the back of your head and pushes it into your mouth, moaning at the contact of your lips with hers.

It gets you warm, placing a kiss filled with genuine love on her puffy clit before borderline making out with her pussy,

The sight of her eyes rolling back as her jaw goes slack has you begging for more, so you run your tongue up from her slit before lapping at it like you’re starved and watching her go cross-eyed from the sheer pleasure.

You can’t help but dip a finger a finger or two into her dripping hole, wanting nothing but to make her feel good, for her to come undone on you, slick smeared over your mouth, nose and chin, dripping lewdly down your palm.

You watch her body convulse, mattress cover clinging to her sweaty back as it arches up off the bed and her legs pull you in graciously.

You rest your head on her thigh and relish in the sight for a moment before she’s looking back into your eyes and urging you to come up so she can hold you, and also to stop breathing onto her clit because her “legs might spasm and strangle you or something,”

You laugh and lay your head down on her naked chest to hear her heart thump within her, in the tender embrace of the arms she holds out for you.

“Els?”

“Hmm?”

“Remind me to take those really fluffy socks I have home with me later. So much stuff is here now, I keep getting annoyed whenever Im actually home for once.”

“Sure, I can do that, if I don’t also forget.”

“Great.”

She lulls your eyes into a soft close with the feeling of her stroking your hair, and as she watches you exist, she realises she’d like to do that for longer. So, she leans into your ear and whispers,

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you just… bring all your stuff to my place, you know, move in with me?”

You raise your head from her chest (she immediately misses the warmth) and meet her eyes, face slowly morphing into an adoring smile which she reflects, before placing a kiss on her forehead and then locking your lips with hers.

PLEASE READ

a/n - last chapterrrrrr ahdgstihaveahugepenisdtyf, banners by cafekitsune and saradika-graphics, my condolences to anyone who has read this bc i kinda hate it but thanks anyways. im not gonna write anything for a while after this (except for this one req thats been sitting in my drafts for an ungodly amount of time) because of the situation in palestine and the upcoming global strikes. i dont want to think abt a game made by a zionist who embedded zionist propaganda into it and donated money to israel most likely earned from the game. upwards of 30,000 palestinians, 11,000 of which were children, have been murdered by israel since october. yeah, for now, it’s only gonna be palestine-related posts. please, please do not buy the remaster, im begging you. its just a remaster, im pretty sure we can all go without it.

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gojosnympho · 1 year

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f*ck around, find out - k.hj

pairing: hongjoong x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, non-idol!au

word count: 1.2k

content warnings: established relationship, use of the n word (i was feeling spicy), allusions to cheating (but nobody’s cheating), manhandling, degradation (fem receiving), name calling, unprotected sex (don’t), the slightest bit of praise, possessive joong (bc i’m mentally ill), squirting, he’s a little mean i won’t lie

synopsis: a little joke you tell your boyfriend goes south.

author’s note: this one is definitely not my best work but i hope you enjoy it anyway! 🥰

he walked by the bedroom to see you sitting in front of your vanity all done up. makeup done. hair done. outfit showing off that body. he entered the room, leaning against the wall opposite of you, arms crossed over his chest. he watched as you put the finishing touches on your outfit, your earrings and the gold cartier love bracelet he got you for christmas. you spritzed some perfume on yourself which finally had hongjoong asking you the burning question.

“where are you going?”

“to my other nigga’s house.” you replied and he couldn’t help it when a scoff left his mouth.

“excuse me?” he asked you

“to my other nigga’s house.” you repeated as you buckled your shoes. you turned to look at him and the look on his face had you laughing. a deep belly laugh that you had you hunched over. “god joong i’m fucking with you! i’m going out with my girls.”

“that shit’s not funny, ____.” he said and you pouted at him. he was such a big baby sometimes.

“i’m sorry, baby. you know you’re the only man i’d ever let fuck me.” you told him, looking at him through your lashes that he paid for earlier this week.

“i’m the only one?” he asked, stalking toward you. you were still sat at your vanity, one of your smooth brown legs crossed over the other. you had your hands folded in your lap when he came to kneel in front of you.

“you’re the only one, joong. i promise.” you pushed his bangs away from his face to look at him. that look of lust in his eyes.

“i’m the only one?” he repeated when his hand trailed up your thigh.

“i have to leave soon.” you said and hongjoong scoffed again, pulling you up from your vanity’s stool and manhandling you to where you were sitting on top of your vanity; not caring that you still had makeup products scattered on it. your back was pressed against the cold mirror, it made you shiver.

both of your breaths were ragged and quick. he grabbed both of your thick thighs in his hands and pulled your legs apart. he situated himself between them and smiled at the way you watched him in anticipation. he hooked his finger under your chin, tilting your head up so you were staring directly into his eyes.

“you think you can just fuck with me and leave? have me thinking some other asshole is fucking you?” he said and when you dared to look away from him he gripped your chin tighter. “answer me.”

“i said i was sorry, joong.” you said and joong tsked at you.

he pulled your skirt up to see the wet patch on your panties. you would never admit it but you loved when he got all angry and when he manhandled you and had his way with you. but what’s understood doesn’t need to be explained.

“you like this?” he asked and you didn’t answer him so he grabbed your face in his hand. “i think you do. i think you like it when i treat you like a bitch.”

you couldn’t deny the way your pussy gushed in arousal. hongjoong let your face go and you sighed in relief. your heart was beating out of your chest now as you awaited his next move.

“before i go any further, do you wanna stop?” he asked you, and you shook your head no so vigorously hongjoong couldn’t help but to laugh. he pulled his sweats and his briefs down in one go and then pulled your underwear to the side. he ran his fingers through your wet folds earning a moan from you.

“i don’t even have to prep you.” he teased you pulling his fingers from between your legs and showing you the way they glistened in the light. he brought the two digits to his lips to lick your juices off of them.

he kissed you so deeply and so gently, letting you taste yourself on his lips. he pulled you to the edge of the vanity and spread your legs as far as they could go.

“don’t make a mess.” you told him as he lined himself up.

“shut up.” he replied, that angry demeanor returning just as quickly as it went away. he stuffed all of himself inside of you in one go. you cried out, fisting his black t-shirt in your hands. he pulled all the way back out and rammed back into you making some of your makeup fall to the wooden floor beneath you.

from there hongjoong set a nasty pace, knocking your vanity against the wall with each thrust and making your makeup fall to the ground.

“ohhh shit!” you cried out when you felt him push against your g-spot over and over again. your eyes were rolled into the back of your head while he used you and you loved every second of it.

hongjoong gripped your face in his hand again, forcing you to look at him while he pounded into you. “you gonna give my pussy away?” he asked and you shook your head no as much as you could. “that’s a good girl. you’re mine, right?”

“y-yes joong. i’m yours i promise. ‘m sorry. ‘m so sorry.” you babbled out. tears were spilling down your cheeks and ruining everything you did to get ready to go out with your friends. but hongjoong didn’t care.

“are you gonna fuck with me again?” he asked you hand still squeezing your cheeks together, punctuating every word with a hard thrust that almost made you cum all over him. you shook your head again. hongjoong gave you a sadistic smile. “you fuck with me again and i’ll make sure your little ass can’t walk for a week.”

you threw your head back with a loud gasp while he continued to fuck you like an animal.

“fuck i’m gonna—!” it happened before you could say anything. you clenched around him and arched your back as you squirted all over him with a soundless scream. it was so unexpected and so sudden even hongjoong had to stop for a second, his grip on your face loosened.

“did you just fucking squirt?” he asked you in disbelief looking at the puddle left on your vanity and the way both of your clothes were soaked in your juices.

“yes. felt so good.” you said, hazy from your sudden orgasm. hongjoong leaned down to place a deep kiss on your lips. he was so fucking depraved when it came to you. with his lips still on yours he started to fuck you again and you whimpered against his lips.

“you’re such a dirty little bitch. squirting all over me, letting me fuck you like this.” he said to you, his lips still against yours. you could feel his dick pulsing inside of you almost close to cumming.

“i’m yours, remember?” you asked him breathlessly half completely fucked out and half teasing. that’s all it took for hongjoong to spill inside of you, kissing you while he did.

“looks like i made a mess.” he said looking at you with his own hazy eyes. your hair was fucked and your makeup was even worse. your makeup products were all scattered on the floor from your little sexscapade. you glared at him, poking him in the chest until he pulled out of you.

“you’re an asshole.” you said to the man who was tucking himself back in his briefs and sweats.

“you started it, baby. next time you’ll know not to fuck with me.”

#ten writes 🧚🏾‍♀️#kpop x black reader #hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x black reader #hongjoong x black reader #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong x black reader #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #khj smut

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collapsedglasshouses · 2 months

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WOULD YOU SAY I'M WORTHY? || TWO

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x OFC ; slight Nick Folio x OFC

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY: When Eden meets Noah, her life is anything but perfect. Her heart is far more broken than Noah can even guess at this point. Will he be able to mend the wounds he hadn’t caused?

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, eventually smut, mentions of grief/loss, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of illnesses

A/N: OMG. I didn't expect the first part to go that well. Thank you for every comment, like or reblog (especially the rebloggers, ily with all my heart)! im sorry it took me so long to upload part two, i had a lot to do irl. but here it is! i hope you like it!

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @lma1986 @missduffsblog @cookiesupplier @thescarlettvvitch @bngurngheart @dream-machine-love @arkiliastuff @vinyardmauro @lacktoesandtoddlerants @princessmarshmallowx @circle-with-me @thisbicc @xxkittenkissesxx @malerieee @smoke-in-diamond-shape (pls dont be mad if i missed someone, just remind me, im clumsy sometimes)

If you wanna be added to the story's taglist or to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!

MASTERPOST || MASTERLIST

Eden had been staring at her phone for forty minutes straight.

After waking up, her thoughts had been running constantly. She didn’t have a costume, she wasn’t in the mood to go out, she had just turned 26. All she had done since waking up an hour ago was shower and brushing her teeth. She stood in her kitchen, still wrapped in her towel and her wet, unbrushed hair just dangled over her shoulders.

She knew she was overreacting, but everything reminded her of the things she desperately wanted to suppress.

She had been staring at Nick’s messages from the previous night with a weird feeling in her stomach. She didn’t even know what brought her to the point of agreeing to go to a party. A birthday party of a man she didn’t know, while she also tried to suppress the thoughts about her own age.

She was snapped out of her thoughts, when her phone began to ring. Her sister.

Should she answer?

She continued to stare at her phone.

The call went away.

Thank god.

She blinked for a couple of seconds, while she felt her heart beating so fast that she actually thought for a second, she was going to have a heart attack.

Then her phone rang again. Her sister again. She bit her lip for a second, before she sighed. She knew, she couldn’t ignore all the calls for the whole day, so she grabbed her phone and answered with a simple “Hello.”

“Took you some time.” Her sister answered and Eden could picture the sweet smile plastered on her sister’s face. Her little sister Raven was four years younger than her. At first, her parents hadn’t really planned on having another child, but when her mom fell pregnant with Raven, they were all over the moon. Eden couldn’t remember most of the time before Raven was born, but she remembered vividly how excited they all were when she finally was here.

She always had been the complete opposite of her older sister. While Eden was rather quiet and liked to be alone, Raven enjoyed the company of each and every individual around her. Raven liked to speak; Eden hated it. Raven was great at school; Eden wasn’t.

Even though they were basically polar opposites of each other, Eden loved her dearly and they always got along. But things had changed after Eden moved away from their hometown. She found herself not liking the company of anyone anymore. She knew it hurt Raven, but at the same time she felt like Raven was the only one that understood her and her decisions.

“Sorry, I was showering.” Eden quietly answered her little sister.

For a couple of seconds, it was rather quiet. It seemed like Raven tried to find the right words.

“I know, you hate it, but I wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday.” Raven began. “Mom told me to wish you all the best from them too, but they didn't want to bother you any longer than necessary.”

Eden swallowed. She knew she had been a pain in the ass the last couple of months, but she didn’t realize she had driven her parents to the point of not even wanting to call her.

She tried to swallow her doubts, before mumbling a response. “Thank you. I’m sorry for being so quiet.”

“Oh… Don’t worry, Eden. We love you.” Raven answered her quickly and tried to sound as happy as possible, but Eden heard the worry in her voice.

“I’m going to a party today.” Eden than exclaimed, to calm her sister’s nerves and seemingly it worked.

“Are you for real?” Raven exclaimed excitedly. “Yes, I am.” – “Where? Who? I-…?”

Eden laughed quietly. She really missed her sister. She really did.

“A friend of mine invited me to the birthday party of his friend.” Eden answered her sister with a small smile on her face.

“A friend or a friend?” Raven then wanted to know. Eden knew for a fact that Raven was wiggling her eyebrows while asking that question.

“A friend.” Eden rolled her eyes. She knew this was coming.

“Sorry, I was just asking.” – “You know, it wouldn’t be this way before you even asked, Raven.”

“Yes, I know. I just wanted to make a joke… I’m sorry.” Raven apologized.

After that, it was quiet again.

“Please don’t be mad at me, Eden.” – “I’m not, Raven. Don’t worry.” – “It was really insensitive of me… Considering, you're not-…” – “It’s really okay, Raven.”

It was quiet again. Eden wanted to cry because of the awkwardness.

“I… You know… Imma... I need to go.” Raven then said and Eden’s heart hurt. This was exactly how she didn’t want this to go.

“Okay. See ya.” Eden then answered and soon the call ended.

Eden felt bad. Everything felt bad. She just wanted to curl into a ball on her couch and never move again.

She looked at the clock and realized, she needed to head out sooner than later, to find a costume, if she wanted to be on time for the party. So, she sighed and got ready. Before she went out, she ate a bowl of cereal and then grabbed her keys.

While she was walking to her car, she covered her head with her hand. It had started to rain like crazy.

Right as she reached her car, her phone buzzed. It was Nick.

Nick: Just wanted to see if you would come tonight… Nick: I mean, since you didn’t answer yesterday…

Eden starred at her phone for a second, before she answered.

Eden: was about to head out to get a costume

She thought for a second, before she texted again.

Eden: maybe you wanna join me?

Nick instantly answered.

Nick: send me the location and ill be there

Eden sat in her car, nervously biting her fingernails as she waited for Nick to arrive. The Halloween store's neon sign flickered above her, casting a somewhat spooky glow on the damp pavement. She glanced at her phone and saw a text from Nick, confirming his arrival.

Nick: two minutes…

She took a deep breath and stepped out of her car, feeling a mixture of excitement and anxiety. The rain had stopped, leaving a crisp chill in the air.

As she entered the store, the scent of latex and plastic immediately crept up into her nose. Rows of costumes, masks, and accessories sat in front of her, ready to be explored. Eden wandered through the aisles, unsure of where to start. Her eyes scanned the racks of costumes, ranging from spooky to silly. She felt totally overwhelmed.

It had been a while since she last dressed up for Halloween. To be exact, it had been about ten years. She also didn’t quite remember what happened on said Halloween, since she had been more than drunk. The only thing she vividly remembered was how she puked her brains out that night.

Before she could think about it any longer, she heard someone enter the store and was soon met with Nick’s broad smile that was almost contagious to her.

"Eden! Happy Birthday!" he exclaimed and hugged the girl for short second while she started to blush like crazy, his enthusiasm echoing through the store. “Ready to find the perfect costume?”

She nodded, trying to match his energy. "Not really, but let’s do it anyways."

For the next hour, they searched through various options. Eden couldn't decide whether to go for classic monsters or popular characters from movies and TV shows. Nick showed Eden some funny and silly options, making her laugh at his playful behavior.

"How about a giant banana?" Nick suggested, holding up a bright yellow costume.

Eden shook her head, grinning. "I don't think so. I prefer my fruits less... inflatable."

Nick laughed with his full heart, before going on with his search.

Right as Eden set her eyes on a black lacy corset dress, she felt Nick’s presence close to her and jumped when she saw him with a ghost face mask on his face.

“What’s your favorite horror movie, Eden?” Nick asked with a deep tone in his voice, while Eden held her chest. Her heart was beating fast.

“Don’t scare me, Nick!” She shouted and shoved him away from her with a small smile on her face. Nick pulled the mask off while still giggling his ass off.

"How about Ghostface from Scream?" Nick suggested, holding up the iconic white ghostly mask.

Eden's eyes lit up with intrigue. "Actually, that's a great idea, Nick. It's simple, yet mysterious. Let's go for it."

“As mysterious as you.” Nick answered while handing the mask to her. Eden smiled a little to herself, not knowing how to answer him, so she just decided to ignore it.

Eden’s eyes traveled back to the black lacy corset dress in front of her and she decided to spice her costume up a bit. If she was going to have fun for once, she was going to do it right.

“Will you try it on?” Nick asked with a spark of curiosity in his eyes. Eden felt how her cheeks heated up at his expression.

“What if I wanted to surprise you?” She answered him boldly and her mind instantly started to race at her sudden change in demeanor. She didn’t even know why she acted that way.

Nick smiled at her cheekily, before they started to add the last touches to her costume. A pair of fishnet tights, some black gloves and a fake knife. Eden decided she was going to wear her old thigh high boots with it.

As they approached the checkout counter, Eden felt a mix of excitement and amusement. She surprisingly was pretty happy about her choice, and even more, she enjoyed the process with Nick.

Exiting the store, they headed back to their cars with bags in hand. Eden couldn't help but smile at Nick's infectious energy.

"Thanks for helping me pick something out," she said shyly but genuinely grateful.

Nick grinned. "Anytime, Eden. Now, let's make sure you turn heads and give everyone a good scare tonight!"

As they parted ways with a hug to get ready for the evening, Eden felt somewhat excited for the upcoming party, grateful for Nick's help in what she thought would be a complete disaster.

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio fanfic #nick folio x ofc #collapsedglasshouseswrites #bad omens rpf

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roachemoji · 9 months

Text

Stranger Things Season 4 Thread!!!!!!!! 04 01

theres NO realistic way in hell some kid was chucking that shit every damn day and making it !!!!!!!!! bro would have smacked someone in the fucking FACE by now!!!!!

starting off with a freak ass routine gotcha gotcha gotcha !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

aGAGGLE OF BALD CHILDREN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

its been. 4 minutes and im already so uncomfortable with how they hold the kids hands to lead them around lmao

Brenner cant draw for SHIT girl if that was me id tell him i dont know bc its fucking UGLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAH. HES RIGHT.

GOD hes. i hate hate hate hate hate hate his fucking face it makes me so uncomfortable.

GIRL HELLO !!!!!!!!! DAMN LMAO

EXPLODES THEM EXPLODESTHEM EXPLODES THEM !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the TONE shift from the last season is really getting to me girlie like that last one didnt feel REAL and this one feels VERY present. even with the rainbow visuals in the room?

OUGHH GOD HES SO UNCOMFORTABLE.

HIS EXPRESSIONS ARE SO ???? HIS GASP SEEING A DEAD KID??? IDK HOW TO PLACE IT.

damn girlie what did you do !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

EL'S !!!! FUCKING AUTISM ACCENT? LOVE HER. LOVE HER.

ARGYLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GODIM SO EXCITED TO MEET HIM !!!!!

I CANT PUT INTO WORDSS HOW MUCH I LOVE THE TONE SHIFT AND THEM BEING OLDER AND EL'S LETTER TO MIKE BEING !!!! SO.

THEYRE ALL SO BIG NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KAREN LOOKS SO CUTE AND TED? KILLS HIM.

SUZZIIEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND DUSTIN <3333333 THEYRE SO CUTE

STEVE AND ROBIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

PEOOPLE WHO LIKE BOOBIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK ING STE VE. BI MEN AND THEIR LESBIAN BESTIES ???

MAX IS NOT BEATING THE TRANS MASC ALLEGATIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NOT NOW NOT EVER NOT IN MY HEART

UCAS LOOK SO FU CKING GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!! HIS HAIIRRRRRR

WHO TH FUCK IS THIS ARCHIE LOOKING WHITE MAN ?????

THEIR PANTS ARE TEAR AWAY ? I GUESS THOSE HAVE A FUCKING USE .... WHEN IT COMES TO SPORTS ? BUT STILL KAJDSHKJHADS IM FU CKING KAJHDKJAHSD. THEY DIDNT DIE SO WE WOULD LOOSE AT BASKETBALL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHUT UP

Lucas is making a good ass point butalso im so sorry he doesnt wanna be a loser nerd freak anymore :pensive:

the fu cCKING RUSSIANS LAKJSHDAKSJHDKJ HDAMN GIRLIE HOLY SHIT BE CAREFUL ? EW. EW? WHOSE THE LITTLE WHITE WOMAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH ELL BABY YOU GOT THIS. YOU GOT THIS!!!! GO AUTISM GIRLIE!!!!!!!!

IM GONNA KILL. EVERYONE IN THAT ROOM. !! PLEASE LET HER JUST. OUGHHGH GODD. WILL TEARING UP TOO. FUCKING EXPLODE HER!!!!!! EXPLODE THAT FUCKING. BITCH HOLY SHIT ?

WILL IS.

MAX ?? QUEER WHATS WITH THE... GREEN SCRUNCHIE?? THAT THE OTHER GIRLIES HAVE

LUCAS approaching Max who... is the only one who is like ? LOUDLY suffering with shit after watching Billy die and be traumatized vs the core group not NOT being traumatized but handling it VERY DIFFERENTLY ? like they always "bounced back" and Max isn't

o h JESUS WHAT THE FUCK HELLO ?????? bro aksjdhkasjhakhkKJHDFKJSDHFKJH DAMN I WOULD NOT HAVE LEFT THAT BATHROOM HELLO WHAT THE FUCK

Eddie doesnt SOUND like i thought he would ???? AKDHAKDJH i forgot about the hanky code my mans wearing

dustiinnNNSFNKJKSJH DUSTIN. AKJSDH!!!!!! MIKE'S FACE.

Eddie's vibe is. AKHASKDJASHD like my ex boyfriend from highschool

MURRYYYY !!! MISSED HIM. LOVE HIM. RIP ALEXEI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

she has nIPPLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ARGYLE AKSJHDKASJH!!!!!!!!!! MOPEY DICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NANCY LOOKS SO CUTE!!!

ARGYLE CALLING HIM A FUCKING GOOD BOY KJHSDKAHADSKJHADSKJH YELLING

im sorry literally N OON wants to play DnD you just have to find the gay people !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (40 years from now)

Out h ere being Mentally ill in da Woods as you do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

what gay ass drugs are we selling!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh hes DRAMATIC fucking theater kid. that man's NOT STRAIGHT !!!! and also defenitely has ADHD. chewing on his fucking HAIR !!! stimming i see u !!

EL BABY GIRL IM SO SORRY I WAN T TO EXPLODE THE WORLD FOR YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I WANT TO KILL FOR HER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOY SHIT . MAKE THEM PISS THEIR PANTS GIRL !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OO OoOOO H BABAKJSHD I FORGOT HER POW ERS ARENT ,,, WO RK ING,,, ABY IM,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, THIS IS FUCKING PAINFUL.

tHE focus not having been on Will the entire time except for a snippet here and there is REALLY NICE ACTUALLY likE!!! IDK BUT IT IS. TTHAT MANS FIGURING OUT HES QUEER TOO

MURRY JADKASLASKLJSADKJ !!!! MY MAN ABSOLUTEL LOSING HIS MIND

sTEVE IM AKSDJHS SORRY GIRLIE LMAOOOOOO fuc kinggGGGG TAMMMYYYYY AKSDJAKDHAKJSDHKAJSHD ROBINNN GIRLIEE IM SO FUCKING SORRRYY. JDKLKJDLKJFDSJLKDF I WA NNA FUCKING.

ERICA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BABY GIRL IS BACKKKK YEAHHHH FUCKING LOVE HER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND HER HAIIIRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CANT WAIT FOR HER TO DESTROY EDDIE

DESTROY HIM DESTROY HIM DESTROY HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the fucking mountain dew cansssss his DM set up is so good

I JUST LOVE HOW DND IS USED AS FORESHADOWING BABEY !!!

Dusstin and Erica working together like THIS IS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! UGH. love u lady applejack <33333

FUCKING GET IT ERICA!!!! LUCAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PLEASSSEEEEEEEEE

YYYEAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i thOUGHT he was tlking to like a lizard and not a guitar AKSJD

IS Chrissy just experiencing like a psychotic break ?? delusions??? I cant tell if its like. ACTUALLY happening to her or something to do with the UD ? Dissociative seizures????? DISSOCIATIVE SEIZURES AND THE UD ?????

FEEL LIKE ALL THE SPIDER VISUALS AND SHIT ARE IMPORTANT AND I JUST DONT KNOW HOW YET !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH IS THIS VECNA ? SIR !! YOURE. WET :/

BRO HELLO WHAT

KING WHAT DOES THAT M EAN

ASDASKJHD KASHDKASJH SORRY TO EDDIE WHO THOUGH YEAHHH A FRIEND :3c

GIRL WAHT THE FUCK EXORCIST SHIT HOLY HSHKJASJK LSHAJKHAD HE RE YEB ALLS!!!!!!!!! BROOOO AKSJDHKASHDKASHD

yeah so season 3 was. liike. different and now ? we're back at it!!!! we're back at it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSRRIGH alright

ending with a half song again no lyrics inchresting

#bo posting #stranger things #st #live blogging #OH THE VIBES ARE BACK BABEY

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anti-katsuki-lounge · 1 year

Note

ok i think it was in this blog that i saw either you or someone else say that mha feels edgy for the purpose of being edgy , and as someone who aspires to create their own stories i wanna avoid this , could you go a bit more in depth about why you feel it is that way and how it could have been improved ? (and if it wasnt in this blog im sorry i mixed it up)

It was actually this blog, so no worries 😊. Well, it was either this blog or my other one 😂.

This is something I wanna cover in more depth but for now, I’ll give the basic points. Several trigger warnings apply, so don’t read this if you feel reading traumatic experiences can trigger your own trauma. Also, spoilers for Doki Doki Literature Club, Invincible, Moon Knight (comics), and The Flash (vol. 2) #197.

So some of my favorite stories are extremely dark. My favorite villain, Hunter Zoloman, is a man who after a hero “failed” to help him in a moment of tragedy, gained powers and felt that tragedy shows a hero’s true colors. Wally West’s Flash was his target, and he felt that if Wally understood tragedy, he’d rise up stronger. This man brutalizes Wally, his friends, and causes his wife to have a miscarriage.

Comic Book Moon Knight is about a man who not only struggles with DID, but also struggles with a God that wants him to be his enforcer of vengeance. Moon Knight is a man who constantly destroys his relationship with others because of his demons and can never know peace.

H.P Lovecraft’s works are about how there are these unknown horrors that exist and how our existence in such a vast world is utterly meaningless.

Doki Doki Literature Club tackles mental illness while also serving as a psychological horror story. Combine the two, and you can see why it’s so dark.

Now, what do all these stories have in common besides being well written? Well, they follow one of several rules of writing a dark story.

The first rule is that there should be a balance of dark and light moments. In stories, you can have dark moments, but it should be balanced by lighter moments. Whether it’s a relationship developing or moments where hope can be found, it’s important that these moments do happen and it’s perhaps the easiest method of making your story dark, but not needlessly edgy.

But what about stories that don’t have this balance? What makes them work then? The second rule is that there should be a purpose for said darkness. Moon Knight’s relationship with his DID and Khonshu (his god) is the core principle of his character. It’s what makes him Moon Knight and not some other stereotypical vigilante. H.P Lovecraft’s stories tackles the themes of being meaningless in a vast universe that will forget you eventually (while also serving to tackle his own problems). Zoom is meant to tackle the question of what makes a hero. Most, if not all heroes, experience tragedy, so is that what makes a hero? Someone who has experienced tragedy and rises up to prevent similar events from happening to others? Doki Doki Literature Club analyzes different forms of abuse/depression and the question of “what is life”? What makes someone human rather than a machine? The dark events that happen to these characters and that these characters cause ultimately serve a purpose to the story. They also have to be appropriate for what the story is. Moon Knight wears white so people see their blood as he beats them and marks his enemies. That’s meant to show that Moon Knight isn’t the most sound of people and that he aims to inflict fear upon his enemies. Monika makes a joke about Sayori’s suicide before you discover her body, which is another instance of foreshadowing. Omni-Man beating his son and murdering all those people are meant to show us that Omni-Man is a horrible person compared to Invincible, who despite his flaws, is a good person as shown whenever he feels immense regret after failing to save someone or fucking up. It’s when things get into Revenge Porn, Edge Porn, and Torture Porn territory that your story is no longer dark. It’s just edgy.

The third rule is that there needs to be stakes involved in said darkness. The stakes with Zoom’s character is Wally stopping a man not only more powerful than him, but is willing to ruin the lives of both himself and everyone else that is a hero. Moon Knight’s mentality is constantly challenged. Whenever he tries to be a better person, his demons threaten to drag him back down at any moment. Both H.P Lovecraft and Doki Doki Literature Club involve a mystery as a means of raising stakes. You want to know what is causing the abnormal events taking place in the story and are anticipating what happens next. Characters you love could be killed and/or corrupted at any moment. The stakes have to be reasonable though. A Moon Knight story involving the end of the world isn’t going to work because the character of Moon Knight isn’t meant to be involved in that realm of storytelling. He works better as a mystical hero that is roughly street level. Monika in DDLC threatening to take over the world wouldn’t work because that’s not her character. She wants to experience reality and does what she does because she believes her friends and her world aren’t real. Her wanting world domination and being willing to kill people in the real world would go against her character.

The final rule ties into rule 3, and it’s that the stakes need to be foreshadowed in some way and not just pop out of nowhere. In DDLC, Act 1 has some foreshadowing but the audience will not think much about it until Act 2. The dialogue said by the characters all serve an important purpose in that regard. Monika’s poems in Act 1 also hint at this, but a first time viewer wouldn’t realize its significance until Act 2. In Act 2, you notice how most of the glitches involve Monika popping up in some way, which when it’s revealed that she’s sentient, it makes sense and doesn’t come out of nowhere. Moon Knight’s entire identity is built up on his DID and Khonshu, so when something happens as a result of either, it doesn’t come as a surprise.

This leads us to MHA. MHA does have some dark moments that follows these rules. The Todoroki family subplot follows rules 2 and 3. Shoto’s relationship with Endeavor falls under rule 2. It is an obstacle that has weighed him down and has prevented him from being the best hero he can be. Now he’s aiming to overcome said obstacle. Dabi follows rule 3, where you’re questioning how Shoto and Endeavor are going to overcome Dabi and the consequences of Endeavor’s past. The School Festival Arc was a low stakes one that allowed Izuku to breathe after going through an arc involving child abuse and death, following rule 1. It also follows rules 2 and 3, where the purpose of the arc is to set up the idea of redemption.

MHA also has “dark” moments that are either unnecessarily dark or simply don’t work. During the Sport’s Festival, Recovery Girl tells Izuku that continuing to use his quirk the way he has been will make him unable to use his arms again (see rule 3). This was a perfectly reasonable stake, but then Recovery Girl tells him that she refuses to heal him. That’s just adding salt to the wound and makes Recovery Girl look like a dick. She’s supposedly knowledgeable on quirks and served as All Might’s doctor, so maybe she could’ve given him some advice. The War Arc and Izuku’s Solo Arc had no resting period between them (rule 1), which would be fine if there was a good resolution, but there wasn’t. It’s nice that 1-A wanted their friend back, but they were literally preparing to drag him back using some weird ass torture device. We never get any more insight regarding Izuku believing he has to do everything himself (missing the mark on rule 2). We get Katsuki’s speech, but good god does he miss the mark. It misses everything he’s been through, everything that Katsuki HIMSELF caused. Sure, All Might didn’t make things easier by telling Izuku that he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone else about his quirk, but Katsuki’s the reason why his self esteem is absolutely shattered. Throughout the story, Izuku’s either constantly criticized or abused for the sake of it. Most of Katsuki’s behavior towards him isn’t necessary. The suicide baiting comment was to showcase the hatred Katsuki has for Izuku and hammer in how much Izuku suffers from the other boy. However, Katsuki nearly nuking him, sabotaging his exam score, and just being a dick to him really doesn’t do much else. We get it, Katsuki’s a fuck who hates Izuku, but it’s not like any of that’s ever brought up again after the USJ. Was the scene where he stabs Izuku necessary at all? The whole Quirk Assessment Exam was also BS and it paints Shota in a bad light (breaking rule 2). So we’re supposed to expect a kid who only had his quirk for like a month to not get last and expelled? That’s just dumb, especially since a little bit of basic reading would show Shota this. Speaking of Shota, his backstory is only explained through a SPIN OFF before making its way to the main plot (and it was hurriedly thrown in there rather than time being dedicated to establishing said backstory), which is not how you should do a reveal at all (breaking rule 4). If you didn’t read the spin off, then you’re not really going to care about Shota’s relationship with Oboro/Kurogiri. Shota’s trauma is also never explored either and it’s just treated as this offhand explanation for Shota’s behavior rather than a core element of Shota’s character. (breaking rules 2 and 3). Moving on to another character, let’s talk about AFO. He constantly breaks the final rule numerous times. The story seemed to be setting the stage for Tomura, but then AFO randomly decided that his grand plan was to possess him instead (rule 4 broken). Where the hell did that come from? Like seriously, having AFO pass the baton to Tomura would’ve been a far better decision than whatever the hell this is. Yuuga’s reveal was awful (breaking rule 4). He only had one big moment where his true nature was hinted at and then he’s shoved in the background twiddling his thumbs until Hori remembered he needed to wrap that plot up. Simply put, these instances feels like Hori trying too hard to add angst/drama/stakes to his story, but none of it feels organic or well thought out. They don’t offer much to the story and if you removed them, he’d have time to actually focus on his well thought out dark moments.

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #mha critical #bnha critical

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ambrossart · 1 year

Text

PAPER MEN

— CHAPTER 28

SUMMARY: All Evelyn Tozier wanted to do was make Derry High School a safer place for her kid brother. Well, somewhere between kissing Patrick Hockstetter and telling the principal to go f*** himself, things got a little off track. Now she’s stuck in the middle of a bizarre love triangle with two of Derry’s most troubled teens while her little brother and his friends hunt down a creepy, child-eating circus clown. This year, summer can’t come fast enough. PAIRINGS: Henry Bowers x Tozier!Sister; Patrick Hockstetter x Tozier!Sister WARNINGS: violence, profanity, sexual content, bullying, sexual assault, physical abuse, emotional abuse, all kinds of abuse, trauma, mental illness, implied/referenced self-harm, child death, angst, lots of angst, recreational drug use, underage drinking, underage sex, love triangles, toxic relationships, slow burn, slow build

WORD COUNT: 11,533

MASTERPOST

MASTERLIST

"See? Bitch!"

Christie's words sailed down the hallway and struck Evelyn on the back of the head, making her stop mid-stride. A gasp gathered in her chest as the hallway seemed to close in around her. Student faces blurred together. Sounds became muffled, all but the thunderous beating of her heart. I wasn't being a bitch, Evelyn thought, unaware of the students who gave her curious glances as they passed. I said hi, didn't I? What more do you want from me? Should I have gone up to you and shaken your hand? Said, "Oh my god, congratulations, I'm so thrilled for you two"? Because I am, I really am, I just...

(Bitch!)

Guilt and shame mixed uneasily in Evelyn's stomach. It made her feel nauseous. Made her want to walk back over to them and apologize profusely like an embarrassed little girl at a grown-up's dinner party. Oh please, oh please, don't be mad! I'm sorry if I came off a little rude earlier. I'm just having a bad day, that's all. Please don't take it personally, Christie. Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? I'd really like for us to be friends.

Yes.

Friends.

That's what I do. I make nice. I make friends. I make lemonade from lemons and turn rain clouds into rainbows.

Well, I'm not in the mood for rainbows, Evelyn thought, and kept walking. Anger simmered inside her stomach now, and she made no effort to cool it down. I have enough lemonade, I have enough friends, and I'm not gonna apologize to Christie Gibson! Why should I? I didn't do anything wrong! She's the one who bombarded me in the hallway, smelling like Vic's bedroom, casually tossing around Mrs. Criss's first name like they're best friends. I've known Mrs. Criss my whole life, and she'd never let me call her 'Tabby'... not that I've ever really asked...

Sarah Tolleson, Evelyn's locker neighbor, said bye to Evelyn as she walked by. Evelyn, distracted as she was, said nothing back.

"Bitch," Sarah muttered under her breath. "Well, fuck you too, then."

Evelyn opened her locker, hung her backpack on the hook, and absentmindedly began gathering her textbooks one by one: English, psychology, world history...

So Christie wants to talk about Vic, huh? What could she possibly have to say to me about Vic? What, does she need gift ideas for Christmas? Buy him a bong or something, I don't know... Evelyn shoved her biology book into her bag and paused for a moment, lost in thought. She returned in a near-daze and, forgetting herself, pulled out the same book and put it back on the shelf. Oh, then she calls out to me in the hallway while she's with him, so I'd have to SEE them together. What the hell was that about, huh? Did she wanna gloat over her victory? Was she trying to get me to admit I'm jealous? Okay, fine, I'm jealous. I'm very, very jealous!

All Evelyn ever got from Victor Criss was cold distance and doors slammed in her face. Secret notes. Broken promises. He'd draw her in and then push her way. Get her hopes up only to smash them to itty bitty pieces. No matter how hard she tried, he refused to let her get close to him. And now, after wasting ten years of her life, she had to accept that this was as close as she was ever going to get: this friendship with a little asterisk next to it. They were friends, sure, but only when no one else was around. It wasn't fair.

Vic was with her—in front of everybody, and he didn't even seem embarrassed by it. How could he do that with her but not with me?

Probably for the same reason Christie Gibson won the student council vote.

Because Christie was cool and Evelyn wasn't. Christie listened to rock music, dyed her hair fun colors, and had a butterfly tattoo on her lower back. Evelyn wore knit sweaters and could hardly name a current song on the radio (she listened to Olivia Newton-John from time to time, but nobody would be very impressed by that). Yeah, Christie Gibson was the fun, laid-back rocker chick. She probably spent her nights going to parties and concerts. Evelyn, meanwhile, spent her nights studying and doing arts and crafts on her bedroom floor... making dozens of paper flowers for a sign that nobody cared about.

You know you're quite the artist.

Isn't that what Patrick Hockstetter had said? Yeah, he had. Last night, he was mesmerized by a tiny white daisy. It was such an insignificant little thing, yet he stared at it like it was something special, like Evelyn had somehow made a realdaisy bloom in the palm of her hand. It seemed strange for her to be thinking of that now.

Stranger still was the smile that came to her face when she did.

But then Evelyn thought of that shapeless violet, purple as the fading bruise on her neck, and her smile instantly vanished. She pushed the thought away and started unloading her backpack again.

Everyone thinks I'm annoying. Just Little Miss Busybody. I'm not cool like Christie Gibson. I'm not sexy like Manda Bosch. I'm just... just—

A long, slender finger poked Evelyn's shoulder twice, jolting her from her thoughts. She jumped away from it, startled. Her stack of books went leaning, leaning... leaning way too far! A dreadful moan sounded in her throat. She tried to correct the lean, failed, and clutched the two bottommost books to her chest while the rest went tumbling to the floor. Her disheartened sigh crashed against a boy's cry of panic:

"Oh, great," Evelyn said.

"Oh, God!" said the boy.

They dropped to their knees at the same time, hands bumping as they reached for Evelyn's psychology book. The boy made a whimpering noise and recoiled from her with a snap of his wrist. Evelyn followed his fleeing hand and saw it bury itself in a small nest of copper-red curls.

"I'm so sorry, Evelyn! I don't know what I was thinking, sneaking up on you like that. My mom always gets mad at me when I creep up on her in the kitchen, but I just can't help it. See, I used to make too much noise when I walked, and she would yell at me to stop dragging my feet, so I overcorrected and now I make too little noise. I didn't think that was possible, but someone how I managed. God, I'm so hopeless."

Evelyn blinked her eyes in disbelief. Soft blue eyes blinked back at her.

"Denny!"

Denny Booker responded with a frog-like croak, as if surprised by his own name. "Oh, uh... hi."

Overjoyed, Evelyn put down her books and wrapped her arms around Denny's scrawny shoulders, hugging him tightly just as she had in his kitchen the Wednesday before. Denny's face flushed with heat. As soon as their bodies made contact, his back went rigid as a plank and his skinny arms flattened against his sides.

"Sorry," Denny said once they parted. "I'm really bad at hugs, especially with, with girls. I just don't... see, I don't really know where to put my hands, if that makes sense. I'm always worried I'm gonna touch something I'm not supposed to."

Like what? Evelyn almost asked, bewildered, but she figured that would've only embarrassed him more.

Instead, she said, "It's fine, Denny. I'm just glad you're back. You are back, right?"

She stood, brushing loose specks of dirt off her stockings. Denny got up, too. He wore his backpack with both straps and kept fidgeting with the loose ends.

"Yeah... well, kinda. I just came today to drop off my homework assignments. Tomorrow's my first real day back. Oh, here, your books."

Denny bent down, picked up Evelyn's scattered books, and handed them to her with a sweet, unaffected smile. Evelyn thanked him sincerely and put them away in her locker.

"So—" Evelyn began.

"Hey, it's the Book Man!"

They spotted Scott Kellerman at the other end of the hallway. He had been strolling through the freshmen locker area, thinking of fun, creative ways to kill a couple minutes. Now he was jogging toward them. Smiling, of course. Scott Kellerman was always smiling. He stopped briefly to give another one of his friends a high five. "Toodles, my good dude," Scott said to him. Then he rushed over to Denny and tackled him with a giant bear hug.

"What's up, buddy?" Grinning, Scott slapped his hands onto Denny's shoulders and gave him a brain-rattling shake that made Evelyn cringe and think, Oh, poor Denny. "Look at you, all rosy-cheeked and gorgeous! How you doin', man?"

"I'm, I'm good," Denny replied. "Hap-happy to be back."

"Shit, dude, you had us all freaked out in homeroom. People thought you were dying or something. As for me, I was getting ready to start sending around the ole donation jar like we did for J-Bird that one time. You remember that? 'Help, my brother needs a new kidney!' Nobody donated, though. Bummer. I guess they don't care about pot-bellied pigs in this town, not even a cute one like J-Bird."

"Oh..." Denny frowned. "Well, I'm sorry for scaring everyone."

Scott just laughed his usual carefree laugh. "Hey, no worries, dude. We're just glad to have you back. Wait, you are back, right?"

Denny nodded. "Tomorrow. I'll be back tomorrow."

"Sweetness!" Scott said, and laughed again. "Well, hey, I gotta go, man. Got a client waiting for me." He backed away from them while humming an upbeat tune he made up on the spot. "Adios, mis amigos. That's Spanish, if you didn't already know. My teacher taught it to me today. That's right, my dudes, I'm one step closer to being bilingual, baby!" He fired off two gunshots with his fingers before disappearing around the corner.

A moment of silence passed. Then Evelyn turned to Denny and said, "Did he just say he's meeting a client?"

"Oh right, yeah... Skelly's got a little side business."

"A side business? Wow!" Imagine that, Scott Kellerman was a fifteen-year-old entrepreneur. Evelyn was very impressed, and a little confused. "So does he, like, make stuff?"

"More like grows it."

To clarify what he meant, Denny pressed his thumb and index finger together and touched them briefly to his lips. Miss Quaver, the home economics teacher, came strutting out of her classroom. Denny panicked and pretended to have an itch on his face.

"Hello, children," Miss Quaver said to them with a smile. "Nice to see you back, Denny."

"Hi, Miss Quaver," Denny said, a faint blush tickling his cheeks.

When she was gone, he and Evelyn collapsed into a fit of giggles that left Evelyn in tears and Denny hacking up phlegm. This made Denny terribly embarrassed. He wiped his mouth with his sweater sleeve and apologized. Evelyn, who had been snorting like a pig, told him not to worry about it.

"Wow," she said afterward, while dabbing her eyes dry, "Skelly's a pot dealer. How did I not figure that out sooner?"

Denny cleared his throat one more time. "You're just wonderfully naive, I guess."

They shared another chuckle over that. Evelyn's shoulders bounced as she laughed. Denny, more careful this time, kept his hand cupped shyly over his mouth.

Then he said, "So, wait, why was Skelly dressed like a surfer?"

"Oh, because it's Groovy Monday," Evelyn told him. "Skelly's a Beach Boy. He had a surfboard, but he accidentally smacked Principal Hellyer with it, so it got taken away."

"Right," Denny said, unsurprised. "Yeah, I guess that explains your outfit, too."

"Yeah..."

Evelyn tucked her chin into her chest and shuffled back a step, wincing as she felt that familiar sting of self-consciousness. Oh, why had Denny returned to school on Decade Day of all days? If he had waited until tomorrow, he would have seen Evelyn dressed in comfy cotton pajamas instead of this hideously short dress that, apparently, made her look like a damn streetwalker. She braced herself for another searing hot stare, but from Denny Booker, all she felt was the most genuine warmth. His blue eyes were clear and kind.

"You look really nice," he said, and that was all. "Oh, I have your biology notes!"

He shrugged out of his backpack's right shoulder strap and pulled Evelyn's notebook out of the main zipper compartment. "You take really good notes," he said before handing it to her.

Evelyn flashed a modest smile. "Well, I do pride myself on my note-taking. Last year, I got these totally awesome gel pens that completely changed the way I..."

(It's a pen, Evelyn)

Her expression darkened. "Never mind," she said under her breath. Last year didn't matter anymore. "Anyway, I'm glad you found them useful."

She put her notebook away. When she turned back, Denny was rubbing the back of his neck and frowning.

"Hey," he went on quietly, "I want to apologize for the way I acted when you came to visit me last week. I'm honestly really embarrassed about the whole thing. You probably thought I was having a total meltdown or something."

Evelyn shook her head. "No, I didn't think that at all. And you don't have to apologize, Denny, not for any of it. You were going through a lot that day."

Denny gave a doubtful but grateful smile. "I found my dog, by the way."

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah, we got a call from one of our neighbors this morning. He said Mandy Fazio found her sniffing around the junkyard last night and was wondering who she belonged to. I have no idea what she was doing all the way over there, but we took her to the vet, and she's perfectly fine, so... I dunno, I guess it was just one of those strange coincidences, just like you said."

"Yeah," Evelyn said.

A strange coincidence, indeed.

I questioned Patrick about this last night. Now, all of a sudden—

Denny's face paled, and he drew back with fright. "Uhh... I have to go now."

"Huh? Why, Denny? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, I just, uhh..." Denny dragged his fingers through his curls. His hairline was damp with sweat, Evelyn saw, and now it was trickling down his forehead. "I just remembered that I need to pick up something from the office, and I... I need to head over there before, you know, before they close for the day. See you tomorrow, Evelyn."

He staggered backward, spun around, and sped off down the hallway... in the opposite direction of the office.

Weird, Evelyn thought, her chest tight with worry. I hope he'll be okay to return tomorrow.

She stared down the hallway for a moment longer, wondering what unseen terror had set Denny off this time. Her answer came in the form of slow, plodding footsteps. She turned around and saw Patrick Hockstetter walking up to her with a lazy, swaying stride.

"What's his problem?" he asked, seemingly unaware.

Seemingly.

Evelyn's eyes sharpened into a suspicious glare.

"What?" Patrick said, blinking at her with that same dumb, oblivious expression. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a wide, open-mouthed grin. "Wait, was that...?"

"Oh, stop it already, Patrick. As if you don't know."

He tossed his head to the side. "What was his name again?"

"You know his name, Patrick. I refuse to believe you have no idea who your fellow classmates are."

This was all just an act, and a bad one at that.

She grabbed her biology book, put it in her bag, and left it there this time. That's right, Evelyn finally had her head screwed on properly again. She wasn't floating through space or wading through a deep sea of sad thoughts. She was here, grounded firmly in reality... and keenly aware of how close Patrick had gotten. His warm breath fanned the side of her face.

"Believe what you want," Patrick said, "but as far as I'm concerned, you and I are the only two people in this school."

Evelyn turned to meet his empty, probing stare. When she did, a chill ran up her spine. Looking into Patrick's eyes was kind of like staring into a void. It was like leaning over the side of a ship and gazing into the deep, dark ocean below. Your survival instincts tell you to step back from the edge and walk away, but before you do, a small part of you wonders, What if I jumped?

Evelyn was hearing that voice now, tempting and frightening all at the same time. She pulled away from it, away from him, and said, "No offense, Patrick, but that sounds kinda like a nightmare."

"Really?" he said. "I think it sounds pretty nice."

His eyes told her he wasn't kidding. But he had to be, didn't he?

Another shiver rolled through her. Evelyn put the question behind her and finished packing up her homework.

"So," Patrick went on, leaning against the locker beside her, "did he finally find his dog?"

Evelyn's eyes sharpened again. Strange coincidence, my ass.

"Oh my god!" she said.

"What?" Patrick asked, looking at her with genuine surprise.

No.

Seemingly genuine.

Evelyn jabbed at his chest with an accusing finger. "Oh, you... you are so transparent!"

"What? I'm just making conversation."

"Yeah, sure you are, Patrick."

"I am," he insisted. Then his eyes flattened. "Wait a second, you still think I took that dog, don't you? Listen, Evelyn, before last night I didn't even know who that kid was, okay? I mean, jeez... you torture a few puppies and you're branded a dog killer for the rest of your life. Where's the justice in that?"

"Yes, Patrick, you're the true victim in all of this."

"Whatever," he said. "I'm sick of talking about this. Anyway, what are you doing after school?"

Evelyn gave him a tired look.

"What?" Patrick said. "We're friends, right? Friends hang out after school."

"Don't you have detention?"

"In theory," Patrick answered, "but realistically, it wouldn't be too hard for me to slip away for a few minutes... you know, if you wanted to find an empty classroom and let me fool around under that cute little skirt of yours." He eyed it with a lustful smirk, then started teasing the hem with his fingers. "By the way, have I told you how much I like this outfit? You should dress like this more often."

And with that, down went the judge's gavel.

It's official: I'm dressed like a whore.

"The stockings kinda ruin it, though," Patrick finished, observing them with a frown. Shamelessly, he tried to sneak a peek under her skirt. Evelyn swatted his hand away without looking.

"It was forty degrees out this morning, Patrick."

"Is that cold?" he asked, but he didn't wait for Evelyn's answer. "So you wanna hang out or not?"

"Can't. I'm grading quizzes for Mrs. Lafferty."

It was part of Henry's plea deal. In exchange for Mrs. Lafferty's support, Evelyn agreed to grade her quizzes for the rest of the semester. And how did Henry pay her back? The only way he knew how: with cruelty and malice. No good deed goes unpunished, right?

"Oh?" Patrick said, sounding very intrigued. "And will you be alone while you're grading these quizzes?"

"No, Mrs. Lafferty will be there. She has a student staying late to take a quiz."

"Well, I don't mind an audience... although it might make you a little uncomfortable."

Evelyn heaved a loud, frustrated sigh. "Okay, I'm leaving now," she said, and closed her locker. When she tried to walk away, Patrick gently grabbed her wrist.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he said, chuckling. "What are you doing on Friday night?"

"Friday's the homecoming game, Patrick."

"Okay, that means nothing to me... but I'm assuming you're going?"

"Yes, Patrick, everyone's going."

"Oh, everyone's going, huh?" His grey-green eyes gleamed. "So if I go, I'll probably see you there."

"Probably."

"Cool." Patrick smiled, very pleased. "We can hang out then."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Patrick."

Evelyn pulled her hand out of his grasp. Patrick frowned as he watched it slip away.

"Why?" he asked in a sullen voice. "You ashamed to be seen with me at a school event? Afraid of what your friends in the student council will think? What Jake Newham will think?"

"Of course not," Evelyn said, but she realized that was a lie. She was ashamed to be seen with Patrick, deeply ashamed, and now she felt like a total hypocrite.

Evelyn grunted low in her throat, regretting this decision with every fiber of her being. "Okay, fine, we can hang out at the homecoming game, but—" She raised her finger and spoke in her stern babysitter voice, the one she pulled out when a stubborn child refused to obey her. So far, she had only used it once: when Max Kenton wouldn't stop pulling his sister's hair, that little shit. "Don't ever interrupt my lunch meetings again, Patrick. Okay? I use those meetings to conduct very important business. The last thing I need is you feeling me up under the table."

"I thought that was a bug," Patrick said with a cheeky little smirk. Evelyn put her hand on her hip and raised her eyebrows, another trick from the babysitter's handbook. Patrick threw his head back and let out a disgruntled moan. "Okay, fine, I won't bother you at lunch anymore."

"Thank you." Evelyn smiled, pivoted on her heel, and walked away with a confident strut. Halfway down the hall, she stopped. "Oh, and I'm reenacting the 'No Touch' rule."

Patrick's jaw clenched. "What?"

"We're friends, right?" Evelyn wore a charming yet taunting smile. "Friends don't touch each other like that."

"Well, maybe not your friends," Patrick said, but ultimately he gave in. "All right, Evelyn, you win, but the same clause applies as before. Fair enough?"

Evelyn pressed her lips together tightly, holding in a laugh. "Sure, Patrick. When I beg you to touch me, feel free to go crazy." She released the laugh once her back was turned. It burst out of her in a series of giggles that rang throughout the hallway like the delightful tinkling of bells.

Patrick listened to it, smiling. "I plan to," he said to himself. Then, before she got too far: "Oh, Evelyn, just one more thing."

She turned around, still giggling. "Hm?"

"I love how you said 'when' and not 'if.'"

Evelyn's laughter caught in her throat, almost choked her.

Patrick's smile grew. "See you tomorrow, Evelyn." He backed away, slipped around the corner, and was gone.

Evelyn stood paralyzed, speechless, her face getting redder and hotter by the second. "That's just... semantics!" she declared, her arms flopping helplessly at her sides.

God dammit, she thought. How the hell does he do that?

It's because he's so attractive, that's what it is. Puberty screwed me over real good, but it gave him a massive growth spurt that turned him into a fricken Adonis. How is that fair? I get a flat chest, no hips, and Patrick gets the chiseled bone structure of a male model. Okay, I'm exaggerating. He's not that good-looking... No, actually he is that good-looking, and it's really unfortunate. If he looked like he did in elementary school, I wouldn't be in this predicament. He's vile and repulsive, but then he smiles and acts so weirdly charming. Oh my god, I hate that I just used the word "charming." But he is. He's grotesquely charming, if that's even a thing. Like most of the time I wanna slap him in the face for the shit he says, but other times, I wanna grab him and...

No.

Wait.

Oh my god, he's doing it again!

Last night, he confessed to murdering cute, fluffy puppies—and I love puppies!—but I'm not even thinking about that right now. No, I'm too busy thinking about his hand under my skirt. I swear to God, if he ever tries something like that again, I'm gonna punch him in the face. Right in the middle of the lunch room, too. Who does that? A sexual deviant, for one. That was practically assault! But I have to smile and go along with it. I have to give him what he wants; otherwise, this torture will never end.

Problem is, I have no idea what he wants. It's not sex, that's for sure. No, he's just using that to distract me... but from what?

Her steps slowed in the middle of the hallway. While contemplating Patrick's motives, Evelyn was fiddling with her right pinky: tracing over it with her thumbnail, bending it, squeezing it until the tip turned reddish purple. Down the hall was Mrs. Lafferty's classroom. The door was propped open, waiting for her to go inside. All right, that's enough now, Evie. She snapped out of her daze, picked up the pace and

"Bye, Manda!"

"See you tomorrow!"

froze as a senior brushed past her right shoulder.

"Whoops, sorry," the girl said, and Evelyn got a big whiff of her spicy, exotic Yves Saint Laurent perfume. It was a woman's fragrance, strong and intimidating, and it masked the soft, sweet, candy-like scent of Evelyn's drugstore perfume. The smell overwhelmed her for a second. Made her nose wrinkle in a silly, childish way. She recovered quickly and spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of the girl's long, thick fishtail braid as she went around the corner. Wrapped around the tail end, winking in the light, was a metallic silver scrunchie.

Evelyn's breath hitched. "That's..." and her feet moved on their own.

Inside the senior locker area, Manda Bosch was humming U2's "With or Without You" while she strolled toward her locker with her books cradled in her arms. The heels of her boots thumped against the tile. Her wide, womanly hips swayed sensually inside a pair of high-waisted, loose-fitting jeans. A black long-sleeve shirt, which she wore tucked, hugged her upper body like a second skin, showing off her ample curves.

Evelyn, who had no curves, was sick with envy. She crossed her arms over her small breasts, feeling unsexy and unfeminine, and thought, If I looked like that, then maybe...

No.

She inhaled sharply, her brown eyes glazed with panic and fear.

No, I shouldn't be here. This was a mistake! Why did I think seeing her would make this any easier? I was having a hard enough time accepting that Henry had sex with someone else, and now that "someone else" has a name and a body and... and I don't think I can handle seeing her face right now. If I see her face, then it becomes real and

A single tear rolled down her cheek, her lips, her chin.

I should go, she told herself, and stepped back. Mrs. Lafferty's waiting for me. I promised I'd grade her quizzes and...

She took one step forward, then another.

Manda Bosch was standing in front of her open locker now, still humming, occasionally singing under her breath: "With or without you… With or without you, oh..." The inside of her locker was decorated with pictures of her friends, her family, and her longtime boyfriend, Matt Aikman, a freshman at USM. Manda was pulling books off the shelf and putting them away in her backpack. While she did this, Evelyn couldn't stop staring at her hands. Manda Bosch had these long, red, perfectly pointed fingernails, and they had cut Henry's face.

At first, the sight of them filled Evelyn with intense, overprotective rage. She wanted to storm up to her and say, "How dare you put your hands on him?" But that feeling passed so quickly. It was there one minute, burning her from the inside, and the next it was gone. It had cooled and hardened into a giant lump that sat in the pit of her stomach, and now a cruel voice was whispering,

What else did she do with those hands?

No, Evelyn didn't want to think about that, not now, not ever, but her mind started conjuring up images on its own. Casting them onto a giant silver screen. Manda Bosch running her hands through Henry's dirty blond hair. Brushing the side of his face with her fingertips. Slipping her hands underneath his shirt and touching him lightly, caressing his stomach, his chest, sliding around to feel the strong muscles of his back.

Evelyn watched the whole film from beginning to end, unable to look away. She was trapped in the middle of a crowded auditorium, strapped to a cushioned red velvet chair, unaware of the surprise waiting for her. It was Friday night at the Aladdin, and everyone in the audience was being treated to a special double feature. Two films. One night only. Buy your tickets in advance, folks, because this is one event you don't wanna miss! The first picture was one of the year's most-anticipated blockbusters, and the next one, well... that one was a classic. Yeah, even an out-of-touch workaholic like Evelyn would recognize that title. In fact, was one of her favorite films. She watched it every night.

In her bedroom.

Alone.

While she sadly traced over the wrinkles in her floral quilt.

Excited applause sprang up around her. Then the lights dimmed and the opening credits began to roll. As soon as the first name appeared on screen, Evelyn's stomach churned with dread. No, she couldn't bear to sit through this movie again. Not again. Not ever again. She got up and fought her way to the aisle, trampling women's purses, tripping over outstretched legs. All the moviegoers lashed out angrily: Get down! Get down, you're blocking the screen! I paid good money to see this flick! She ducked as a box of popcorn came flying at her. It went over her shoulder and exploded against the screen like a spray of fireworks, but Evelyn did not look. No, she would not look. She put her head down and kept moving, eyes closed to the intimate scene that was playing in front of everyone, ears shut to the men who whooped and wolf-whistled, the women who voiced quiet murmurs of disgust. Blind and deaf to it all, she stumbled into the aisle and went running for the exit.

Mr. Foxworth smiled as she passed, his eyes glowing eerily in the light. Don't you wanna see the ending? he said. The ending's the best part.

Evelyn turned back to look at him, her expression a mixture of shock and horror, and then she saw...

("Hey, you okay?")

saw the screen flickering, stuck on a single image. It burned away as a hand reached out from the darkness and landed on her shoulder.

("Hey... Hey!")

"Hey, space cadet!"

Evelyn emerged from her thoughts groggily, blinking. It was Manda Bosch, staring at her with dark chocolate brown eyes, the kind of eyes a boy could get lost in... Henry probably had, too.

(What else did she do with those hands?)

Evelyn flinched with sudden awareness. She looked down at her shoulder, saw the girl's hand, and wrenched away from it. Warily, Manda Bosch withdrew her hand and apologized. There was a small wrinkle between her perfectly shaped brows now. Her lips, red and full, had gathered into a concerned pout that somehow made her even more beautiful.

Did he let you kiss him? Evelyn wondered, devastated.

"Do you need something?" Manda asked, tilting her head. Her voice was melodious and sweet despite her confusion, much sweeter than Evelyn expected.

"Uhh... no," Evelyn said. She drew back a step and crossed her arms in front of her. "Sorry..."

Manda smiled awkwardly. Even that was pretty. "Okay, well... take it easy, okay?"

She made a vague gesture with her hand, circled around Evelyn's right, and started humming again as she walked toward the senior exit. Evelyn cupped her elbows with her palms and withdrew into herself, feeling more like a child than ever. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home, bury herself under the covers, and forget this day ever happened.

But then she heard Manda's voice again

"Hey," she said, leaning away from the door, "cute dress, by the way."

and that was more than she could take.

Smiling to herself, Manda pushed on the door and walked out. While she strolled through the senior parking lot and swung her keys, while she drove home and sang along to her favorite song on the radio, Evelyn collapsed onto the senior couch, dropped her head into her hands, and sobbed.

"Well, that test sucked."

"Yeah, I hate when they sneak in an extra essay question at the end. What kinda sick, sadistic shit is that? Like I'm stressed out enough, thank you very much, and now you expect me to write a perfectly structured, five-paragraph response to your vaguely worded question? Fuck off with that bullshit. In conclusion, you're a crazy Nazi bitch and your class sucks!"

"Whoa, did you seriously write that? 'Cause you would totally be my hero if you did."

"God, I wish I did... I swear, every time I see that woman, I just wanna—Evelyn!"

Evelyn dried her eyes as Elizabeth Mueller entered the senior locker area with Desiree Van Blair and Peter Gordon.

Unlike most of the upperclassmen, Liz and Des had actually dressed up for spirit week. They figured, what the hell, right? It was their senior year and they wanted to have some fun before they graduated. Today, Liz was wearing a Twiggy-inspired green shift dress with an exaggerated collar, black fishnet tights, and a pair of Mary Janes. Des was wearing her Halloween costume from last year. She went as Holly Golightly from the 1961 romantic comedy Breakfast at Tiffany's, and she got really annoyed when the other students didn't understand the reference. "God, this town's a cultural wasteland. It's like living in the Bermuda Triangle or something. Nobody knows how to dress and everyone sucks."

Liz was currently gushing over Evelyn's outfit. She took the girl's hands and pulled her up from the couch to get a better look at her.

"Oh my god, you look absolutely perfect!" she said, squeezing Evelyn's face between her palms. Close as they were, it was obvious that Evelyn had been crying, but Liz was gracious enough to keep this knowledge to herself. She wiped away the last streak of wetness with her thumb and smiled. "You're the most precious thing I've ever seen in my life."

Evelyn smiled back timidly. "You don't think I look slutty?"

Liz gasped, outraged. "Oh, what bitch said that? Was it Jackie? 'Cause that sounds exactly like something Jackie would say."

Desiree spoke up from the couch. She was sitting on the arm and pretending to smoke from her long black cigarette holder. "Oh my god, Liz, did you see what she was wearing today? She thinks she's Jackie O."

Liz rolled her eyes. "More like Jackie O, could you be more fucking obnoxious? Wait, was that mean?"

"A little, but who cares? It was funny."

The girls tittered like wicked stepsisters and, for a moment, appeared every bit as mean as Greta Bowie and Liz's little sister, Sally. Evelyn stood between them, feeling uncomfortable, feeling like maybe it was time to leave. Liz noticed this and her face flushed with shame.

"Oh shit," she said. "Dammit, Des, we can't keep falling back into old habits like this! I don't wanna go to college with any negativity. I may not like Jackie personally, but that's no reason to cut her down for her unfortunate fashion choices... even though she's a fucking bitch and deserves it." Liz took a deep breath and carried on with a smile. "Anyway, come sit for a minute, Evelyn. Let's talk."

Evelyn's eyes drifted toward the hallway. "Oh, but I really should get going."

Mrs. Lafferty was already expecting her, and...

"Just for a minute," Liz said, and led her back to the couch. Evelyn followed the older girl obediently. They sat side by side, knee to knee. Liz laid her hands neatly on her lap and smiled prettily at her. "So, how's the situation?"

"The situation?"

"She means Hockstetter," Des explained bluntly, while Peter Gordon went to his locker and pretended not to listen. Evelyn suspected he was listening, though, because he kept peeking over his shoulder every now and then. This made Evelyn feel a little uneasy. She didn't want to talk about this around so many people. In fact, she didn't want to talk about it at all. Not with Liz. Not with anybody. She didn't think they would understand.

"We saw that stunt he pulled at lunch today," Des was saying now. "That was bold, even for him."

"Yeah," Liz agreed, "and we just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Oh, I'm fine," Evelyn said, more abruptly than she'd intended. "Yeah, I've got the situation totally under control."

Liz's made-up doe eyes widened in surprise. "Oh..." she began in a chaste whisper, a faint blush warming her face. As her voice trailed off, her gaze fell slowly, softly, and landed gently as a feather upon Evelyn's neck. "Oh..." Liz said again. Her hand went to her mouth and her blush deepened.

By now, the hickey had faded enough that Evelyn could cover it pretty easily with makeup... or so she thought. Concealed or not, a well-trained eye could probably spot it with little effort. Desiree, who had already established herself as an expert on the subject, lowered her oversized sunglasses and peered down at her.

"Wow," she said with an impressed smirk. "Yeah, I'd say she definitely has it under control, Liz. Good girl. You ride that crazy train."

Liz swatted her friend away like a buzzing fly. Evelyn quickly covered up the mark with her hair.

"It's not what it looks like," she said. "Patrick just—"

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself," Liz said with false sincerity. Evelyn would have thought it was genuine, but the shrewdness in her eyes gave it away. "We're not judging you or anything."

"Really?" Evelyn said. "Because it kinda seems like you are."

Her tone was sharp, and rightfully so.

"I don't know what you all expect me to do. Everyone keeps judging me for what I do or don't do with Patrick, but what nobody seems to understand is that I don't have a choice! Look, I didn't ask for this, okay? I don't know why Patrick's bothering me all of a sudden, but he is, and now there's nothing I can do about it. I mean, it's inevitable, right? That's what Marci seems to think, anyway, and honestly I'm starting to think she's right. So what am I supposed to do now, Liz? Huh? You were nice enough to warn me about him, but... now what?"

Liz Mueller recoiled as if slapped. All the color drained from her face.

"I don't know," she confessed quietly, suddenly afraid for her. "I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're supposed to do."

Silence prevailed for the next thirty seconds. Liz turned forward, dropped her chin into her chest, and stared guiltily at her manicured hands. Next to her, Desiree had removed her sunglasses and was gnawing anxiously on the plastic tip. Peter Gordon glanced over her shoulder and saw her doing this. He made a sickened face and whipped back around. Right now, he wanted to crawl inside his locker and close the door. He couldn't stand tense silences like this. They reminded him a little too much of home.

"Just... be careful, okay?" Liz finally said. "If things start to get weird, or you start to feel unsafe for whatever reason, make sure you tell someone. Tell your mom, your best friend, me, Marci, just... someone, okay? Most of the other girls wish they had. Shit, I know I did." She reached over and gave Evelyn's knee a comforting pat. "You're not alone in this, Evelyn. I know it might seem like you are, but you're not. We all know what you're going through."

Evelyn smiled gently, gratefully, but part of her wondered if any of them truly understood.

Time crawled forward. Evelyn looked up at the clock and saw that it was almost a quarter to four now. Mrs. Lafferty was probably getting angry with her. She was probably tapping her foot, glaring at the clock, and thinking, Well, is that little brat showing up or what? Evelyn felt guilty about that. She knew it wasn't polite to keep people waiting, and yet...

"Hey, do you guys know Manda Bosch?"

"Manda?" Liz and Des exchanged a furtive glance. "Sure. What about her?"

"There's just a rumor going around about her and a boy in my grade."

"Oh, right," Liz said, and for some reason, Des started to laugh. "I keep forgetting you sophomores are new to this. Look, you just have to learn to ignore her, okay? Manda does this kinda shit all the time, and I mean all the time. She parties way too hard, gets way too drunk, and then cheats on her boyfriend with some loser who won't refuse her. Then she sobers up the next morning, feels guilty, and cries rape to cover her own ass. It's really sad and pathetic, honestly, but I guess it works 'cause her boyfriend still hasn't dumped her even though he's way out of her league. I don't understand the appeal, personally. I mean, she must give really good head or something."

Evelyn squirmed at that remark. Behind her, Peter Gordon was coughing as if he'd swallowed something wrong.

"So you're saying she just made it up?" Evelyn asked, hopeful.

"Oh yeah, for sure. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm all for supporting victims and everything, but Manda Bosch is not a victim. She's just a sloppy, sloppy drunk who will spread her legs for anyone. That sounded really mean, I know, but it's just a fact. She even came onto Pete once, practically right in front of me."

"And I ignored that siren's song," Peter interjected passionately. "I said to her, 'No, you foul temptress, you stay away! I have a beautiful girlfriend and I love her with all my heart.'"

Liz gave him a dubious look. "Yeah, like you're going anywhere." Then, to Evelyn: "See, Pete's not the cheating type. He knows he hit the jackpot with me and he's not about to squander his winnings on some dumb, drunk slut. Find yourself a guy like that, Evelyn, and all these rumors just become background noise."

"Okay," Evelyn said uneasily. This conversation had taken a few unexpected turns and she was struggling to keep up. "So it's definitely not true?"

"No..." Liz said, but her voice sounded strangely high-pitched all of a sudden. "Well, I mean, it's probably not true... Why? Who's the rumor about?"

"Umm, Henry Bowers," Evelyn answered anxiously, and flicked her eyes away. "I don't know if you know who that is."

"Yeah, all you sophomores kinda blur together... Oh, wait, he's the really angry one, right? The kid who always looks like he's gonna stab somebody?"

Evelyn gave a reluctant nod. It wasn't the kindest description, but it was probably the most accurate.

"Huh," Liz said. "Well, that changes things a bit."

Evelyn's stomach dropped. "You think it could be true?"

"Well, no, not necessarily. Hold on a sec." Liz craned her head around and called out to her boyfriend: "Hey, Pete, you used to hang out with that Bowers kid, didn't you?"

"Yeah, for a like a summer," Peter Gordon answered shortly. He wore the tight, apprehensive expression of a man who'd just been asked to take the stand and testify as an eyewitness in a murder trial. "That was a long time ago, Liz..."

Peter was fifteen then and feeling rebellious. His parents had recently split up, and he was going through a tough time. He thought it'd be kind of cathartic to shoot stuff, smash a couple windows, and shoplift dirty magazines. Petty crimes. Maybe a misdemeanor or two. He wasn't expecting it to get as intense as it did, and there were times when Henry Bowers honestly frightened him. He'd never seen so much hate in one person.

"Okay," Liz said, "but did he seem like a rapist to you?"

Evelyn winced at that word. How could everyone throw it around so casually?

"Racist? Yeah. Rapist? No, I wouldn't quite go that far... but again, that was a long time ago. Who knows what that kid's capable of now."

"Not that," Evelyn said. "No, Henry didn't rape anybody."

Liz shrugged. "Okay, well... there's your answer. They probably just had sex."

"Sex. Right."

Evelyn gulped down both words, closed her mouth, and nodded stiffly, feeling her blood thumping in her temples. Liz and Des studied her quietly, looked at each other, and quickly put together the rest of the puzzle. When they saw the completed picture, Des cringed and Liz's pretty pink lips parted with an inaudible gasp.

"Oh..." Liz whispered, looking down at Evelyn with a sympathetic frown. "Oh, sweetie, no..."

Then Des said, "I remember when I was going through my bad boy phase. God, was that a mistake."

Evelyn's face flamed with dull anger. "No, that's not—" but a gruff voice cut her off.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Martin Davers had emerged from the hallway with a notebook wedged under his arm and a pencil tucked behind his ear. He opened his locker, tossed everything inside, and slammed the door closed. His biceps bulged under the tight fabric of his shirt. His eyes, a dark, stormy blue, narrowed into a fierce, territorial glare as he squared up to Evelyn like a menacing troll. Martin was six feet tall and heavily muscled. He used to be on the football team, but he got cut during his second year because he couldn't meet the minimum grade requirement. Now Martin was constantly looking for new ways to release all his pent-up aggression. Evelyn Tozier was his favorite target.

Liz rolled her eyes at Martin, unbothered. "Speaking of bad boys... What do you want, Martin?"

"I'm just wondering what a sophomore's doing in the senior locker area."

Evelyn flinched suddenly, forgetting where she was, and as she looked around now, all the furniture had grown shockingly large. She felt like she was sitting inside some silly funhouse where everything was comically oversized. All the lockers towered over her like skyscrapers. The couch seemed big enough to swallow her whole; Evelyn's feet could barely reach the edge. She sat upon the tattered cushion like a doll waiting for some little girl to come along and carry her off to tea time. Oh, yes, tea time. Tea time with March Hare and the Hatter. Evelyn was a child trapped in Wonderland, lost and scared, staring at the Cheshire Cat's mischievous grin.

"Look, she's with us, okay?" Liz Mueller made a dismissive motion with her hand, then turned back to Evelyn, who had shifted her weight forward in an early attempt to stand. The girl's face had gone terribly pale. "Oh, Evelyn, don't let him scare you off. Martin's just an asshole."

"No, it's okay," she said colorlessly. "I have to get going, anyway."

(I'm late for tea...)

Mrs. Lafferty was expecting her, and it would have been rude to keep her waiting any longer... yes, rude, that sounded right. It was Evelyn's good manners that compelled her to leave so quickly. It was good manners that made her press her thighs together and cross her arms over her chest. Good manners that had her staggering to her feet, mumbling goodbye to the floor, and walking away as fast as she could.

It had nothing to do with Martin's stare—that hot, searing stare that seemed to follow her down the hallway.

Evelyn started apologizing before she even entered the classroom.

"Sorry, I'm late, Mrs. Laff—" she began, but the rest of the words had tumbled inward and back down her throat. She stopped in the middle of the doorway, one foot in, one foot out, with her right arm bent at the elbow, beginning an apologetic wave. Evelyn never finished it, though. Much like her words, her hand had retreated into itself, curled into a loose fist, and fallen limp at her side. Her eyes widened with shock and disbelief. Her heart jogged in her chest. She drew in a breath and held it for a moment, forcing herself to calm down.

Before she arrived, the classroom had been quiet and empty apart from the two occupied desks. Mrs. Lafferty sat at hers with a cup of honeyed tea and was idly stirring it while she reviewed tomorrow's lesson plans. She looked up briefly when she heard Evelyn's voice. It was a very distinct voice, loud and clumsy as one might expect from a Tozier, but at least hers wasn't accompanied by crude humor and poorly performed (not to mention grossly offensive) accents. Yes, in that regard, her little brother was truly unique.

Mrs. Lafferty smiled at Evelyn. "Don't worry about it. You're in fine company. This one kept me waiting, too," she said, tipping her head toward the student sitting in the back. "He's lucky I didn't leave and just give him a zero, but I don't think I'll be getting a thank you for that, will I?"

Mrs. Lafferty was answered with silence. For once, Henry Bowers had nothing to say... not to her, anyway.

He had been hunching over his math quiz and glaring at question number four when he heard Evelyn's voice drift through the open door, her words amplified by the hollow silence that had fallen over the school. As soon as the sound hit Henry's ears, his back straightened and his heart started racing. It was an instinctual reaction, kind of like when Henry flinched whenever his dad reached for his belt. That one motion stirred up a decade's worth of painful memories and emotions and drove them straight to the surface like worms wiggling up from the dirt during a rainstorm. His dad didn't even need to beat him anymore (but he did anyway). He simply had to gesture toward his belt and Henry cowered back in submission. Yes, sir. No, sir. Straighten up and get back in line.

Of course, it was only kind of like that. There was no pain associated with the sound of Evelyn Tozier's voice (unless you counted the slight hangover-like headache that sometimes occurred halfway through a conversation with her). No with her voice, Henry felt only the most wonderful, comforting calm, bright with her laughter, warm with her smile, soft as the woven cotton blanket that he often found draped over him when he woke up in the middle of the night. Henry would sit up, look across the room, and see Evelyn passed out at her desk with her head nestled inside the crook of her arm. Usually, he would leave after that, but sometimes he would sit and observe her for a while, listening to her gentle snoring, watching her skin sparkle beneath the soft glow of her desk lamp, feeling his heart slowly thudding in his chest, getting stronger and stronger. Henry could have stayed like that forever.

Happy.

Peaceful.

Safe.

Evelyn Tozier was a sweet escape, and Henry craved her like a junkie needing a fix. It was a desperate, visceral desire that gripped him more firmly with each passing day. Growing. Intensifying. Evolving into a savage, carnal beast that was impossible to control.

When Henry heard her voice that afternoon, every nerve in his body came alive at once. He had to grip the edge of his desk because he didn't trust himself to stay in his chair. How could he when Evelyn was standing on the other side of that door? When that safe, peaceful, happy feeling was finally within reach? All Henry had to do was get up, run out that door and—

Evelyn appeared in the doorway, wearing that sunshine yellow dress with the flouncy little skirt that went whoosh-whoosh every time she moved her hips. The skirt that tempted him. Teased him. Taunted him. The skirt that Patrick Hockstetter's hand had crawled underneath like some filthy, disgusting insect... and she didn't push his hand away.

??WHY DIDN'T SHE PUSH HIS HAND AWAY??

(Because she's a whore, just like your mother)

No. No, she's not, Dad. She's nothing like—

(YOU ARGUING WITH ME NOW, BOY?)

Belt.

Flinch.

No, sir.

Whore, sir.

!!STRAIGHTEN UP AND GET BACK IN LINE!!

When Henry saw Evelyn in that yellow dress, his mind became a battlefield. All his thoughts were clashing against each other in bloody combat, and he didn't know which side was going to kill the others and claim him. He was being pulled in too many directions. Assaulted by too many urges. All the while, Evelyn stood there staring at him with that hopeful, frightened look, like she desperately wished he would speak to her, but she was also terrified of what he might say.

And that's when Henry realized he was frightened of himself, too.

If he ran to her now like he wanted to, he wasn't sure what would happen. In one thought, he was wrapping his arms around her and hugging her. In another, he was pushing her against the wall and smashing his mouth against her warm, soft lips. In another, he was squeezing his fingers around her neck and throttling her until all the light left her eyes.

Slapping her.

Beating her.

Bashing her head against the wall again and again and again.

(Because that's what you do with whores)

The thought rose up from nowhere. It had caught him off guard. Snuck up behind him and tried to seize control. Henry fought it back and it left easily enough, but he knew it wasn't gone for good. Eventually, it would come back even stronger. Maybe next time it would win. Maybe. Maybe—

"Head down, Mr. Bowers," Mrs. Lafferty said as she stood up from her desk. "You're here to take a quiz, not gawk at pretty girls."

"Fuck you, bitch," Henry muttered under his breath, relieved to hear his own voice again. Just his own voice again.

Mrs. Lafferty walked over to Evelyn, who had turned away and was now approaching a small table at the front of the classroom. Honestly, Henry was glad for the distance. The further away the better. For her sake. He put his head down and tried to focus on his quiz.

"You don't have to finish this all today, of course," Mrs. Lafferty was saying to Evelyn, "just the two morning classes should be enough. Whatever you have left, you can just leave in the pile there. I'll take the rest home with me tonight."

Evelyn nodded, pulled out the chair, and sat down. As soon as she did, she felt two eyes drilling through the back of her skull. Her heart bucked wildly. She looked over her shoulder and caught Henry's gaze for half a second, but then Mrs. Lafferty called her attention back and placed two red pens on the table. Upon withdrawing her hand, she said, "Oh, and Evelyn? No doodling on the quizzes, please."

Evelyn smiled back sheepishly. "Right, sorry... sometimes I get a little carried away."

After all, grading quizzes got awfully boring after a while. In that state, it was easy for her to accidentally turn a simple smiley face into a cat or a dog... or a cute, friendly little monkey swinging off the edge of the score. Evelyn was no artist, but she hoped her doodles gave the students a good chuckle when they got their quizzes back. Especially those who failed. For those unlucky few, Evelyn hoped her drawings helped soften the blow, if only just a little.

Mrs. Lafferty returned to her desk and reached for her tea. After taking a few slow sips, she lowered her cup and said with a forced smile, "By the way, Evelyn, I had a lovely little chat with your mother this morning."

"Oh?" Evelyn said, and that was where the conversation ended.

Judging by Mrs. Lafferty's expression, there had been nothing lovely about that chat, nothing at all.

Evelyn put her head down and quietly began her work: comparing each answer against the key, marking the wrong ones with her pen, counting up the marks, tallying up the final score, and printing it at the top of the page. Each score was accompanied by an encouraging message like GREAT JOB! WAY TO GO!! AWESOME EFFORT!!! Then she would place the paper in the completed pile and move on to the next one.

Behind her, Henry Bowers kept his head bent over his quiz the whole time, his expression frustrated and tense. Evelyn didn't look back at him either, not once, not even when the urge was so strong she thought she might go crazy. She couldn't bear to look at him now, conflicted as she was. It brought up too many questions... questions Evelyn wasn't sure she wanted the answers to.

Did you let her kiss you? she wondered as she stared down at the red pen. Because I never...

"Head down, Mr. Bowers. I won't say it again."

Evelyn sucked in a quiet breath, held it, and slowly peeked over her left shoulder. Henry's head was down again, his hand furiously scribbling on the paper. Evelyn continued to hold her breath, continued to stare, until his eyes finally lifted off the page. Henry's writing hand slowed, then stopped. Evelyn's breath left her in a long, drawn-out sigh. Then Mrs. Lafferty got up from her desk, Henry dropped his head, and Evelyn turned back around.

"Evelyn, I need to go to the teacher's lounge for a few minutes," she said, but what she really meant was, I'm stepping outside for a smoke. "Henry, you have five minutes left. Leave your quiz on my desk when you're done."

Mrs. Lafferty's heels clicked delicately as she walked, the sound drifting further and further... further away. Then there was only silence.

Evelyn sat back and stared gloomily at the clock. It was four twenty-two now, but the time never registered in her head. She was too busy thinking, hoping, wishing those hands would unwind and go backward just this once. Take them back to that blissful Before: before Evelyn wore this stupid dress, before Henry had sex with Manda Bosch, before Patrick Hockstetter picked up Evelyn's clipboard, followed her into the hallway, and asked, Where have I seen you?, before the trunk, before the stolen shirts, before the long, lonely, miserable summer... before Evelyn crossed the line and messed everything up.

Can we just go back, please? she begged. Because every day after that has been a total nightmare.

(and she had a terrible feeling it was only going to get worse)

Evelyn gave the clock one last pleading look, and the clock stared back in silent refusal. Its hands ticked, tocked, and crept forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Henry finished his quiz, dropped it off on the teacher's desk, and—

Evelyn stood up and said, "Can you please talk to me? Because I really don't understand what I did wrong."

Her plea was weak, desperate. Henry didn't even hear it. He went around her and started walking toward the door.

What the fuck?

"Henry!" she cried softly... in her Before voice.

Henry stopped as soon as he heard it, his whole body stiffening in recognition, and for a moment time seemed to stop.

(Tick—)

Finally, he spoke. "You know, I thought..." His voice emerged from deep in his throat, strangled with grief and despair. "I thought we were..."

"What?" Evelyn said. "What?"

JUST SAY IT!

Henry's jaw clenched tightly, and his lips drew back in a pained smile. "Fuck you, Evelyn," he said and went out.

(Tock)

Evelyn's mouth fell open in a stifled cry of disbelief. Hope left her eyes as defeat washed over her. Her legs went weak, gave out, and she collapsed back into her chair, numb, speechless. Above her, the clock watched with cold indifference. Its hands crawled forward... forward... forward.

(Tick)

(Tock)

(Tick)

(Tock)

Sometime later, while Evelyn was lackadaisically doodling on a student's quiz, she heard the slow, dragging thumps of Mrs. Lafferty's feet coming down the hallway.

"I've already finished the first two stacks," Evelyn reported half-heartedly, "and I'm halfway through the third."

She moved the quiz to the completed pile, turned around, and froze.

Martin Davers was leaning beside the door with his arms folded over his chest.

"That's a really nice dress," he said.

Evelyn rose from her chair slowly, her heart pumping loudly in her chest. "What do you want, Martin?"

"Nothing," he answered, his eyes calm and attentive. "I guess I just wanted to know why you're trying so hard to dress sexy all of a sudden." Martin seemed to ponder this soberly for a moment, his brow furrowed in mock perplexity. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it kinda looks like you're trying to advertise something. Is that right, Tozier? Are you open for business now?"

"Open for business?" Evelyn repeated. The phrase stunned her so completely that she almost laughed. "It's spirit week, Martin. I have to dress up."

"Oh, I see," Martin said, fascinated. "You had to dress in a skimpy skirt today. That was today's theme."

Evelyn's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"Wait, that wasn't today's theme?" Martin cocked his head to the side and frowned. "Well, then why are you wearing that dress, Evelyn?"

She stared at him, unable to speak. Why had she chosen this dress? Why this dress over all the others? Mrs. Criss had dozens of modest dresses that would have satisfied today's theme just as well. She had boxes and boxes of them. Evelyn tried them on. They had fit her perfectly, way better than this dress did. Why had she cast them aside?

"I was just following the theme," she said, her eyes vacant, glassy.

"You were just following the theme." He nodded. "Okay, Evelyn, answer me this: what was today's theme?"

Her stomach twisted. "Huh?"

"Go on, tell me. What was today's theme?"

His voice was shrill and full of scorn. Evelyn shut her mouth tightly, her bottom lip quivering, and shook her head as tears flooded her eyes.

"Please stop," she whispered.

"Well?"

"Stop."

"Tell me."

She swallowed hard and answered: "It was Groovy Monday."

"Right," he said, "it was Groovy Monday, not Skimpy Monday, not Slutty Monday. It was Groovy Monday. Thank you for clearing that up for me, Evelyn, because I was so confused for a second." He smiled at her, grateful. "Now, let's go back to my initial question: why are you trying so hard to dress sexy? Because that's an awfully short dress, Evelyn."

"It follows the dress code," she said, but then from the dark, shadowy part of her mind, she heard

(barely)

another voice that made her eyes widen with a horrific realization. This really was a terribly short dress. Yes. Yes, she saw that now. Not short enough to make her parents worry. Not short enough to violate the school's dress code.

(No more than four inches above the knee... Did you measure it, Evelyn?)

But just short enough to—

Martin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Are you trying to get someone's attention, Evelyn? Show him what he's missing?"

"No," she answered in a shaky voice, but the other, faraway voice spoke the truth.

(Yes)

She had wanted to get someone's attention today, and she got it, oh yes, she got it. When Henry Bowers stormed up to her that morning, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her hard against him, when he glared down at her, stared at her lips with that feral, ferocious hunger, Evelyn felt her heart flutter with such excitement. For a minute, she thought he was actually going to kiss her. She wanted him to.

(If I had been wearing this dress that day, then maybe...)

Evelyn slapped her hand over her mouth, but still the voice persisted:

(Yes)

(and you got what you wanted, didn't you?)

(Yes)

Guilt crept into her heart and devoured her slowly, leaving her hollow and cold. "Look," she said huskily, blinking the wetness from her eyes, "Mrs. Lafferty's gonna be coming back in a minute, so..."

Martin clucked his tongue in dissent. "I think it might take her a little longer than that."

For a moment, Evelyn's gaze was blurry with tears. Then it cleared as strange, dizzying terror stole through her. It was almost like a bad dream. In a slow daze, she saw Martin walking toward the door. Saw him tuck his boot underneath the doorstop and kick it up with one flick of his ankle. The door moaned and swung slowly, so slowly, and closed with a whisper of a click. Evelyn's breath stopped. Her body froze with fear.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a small, trembling voice.

Martin answered her question with one of his own: "What were you doing in the senior locker area, Evelyn?"

"What?" The word came out dry and brittle, and it crumbled as it left her lips. "Nothing, I was just..."

Martin stepped toward her, his blue eyes glinting ominously in the light.

"You were just...?"

Adrenaline shot through her, sending Evelyn's heart into a mad gallop. She glanced at the door and made herself move. Martin closed the distance. She side-stepped, tried to duck around him, and he caught her brutally by the wrist. A scream fetched in her throat. Their eyes locked fiercely, and for one frightening moment, Evelyn saw the same savage hunger that had consumed Henry Bowers. Her heart stopped. Her mind exploded and went flying, crashing, tumbling down into deep blackness like a stone down a well, falling down to a cold, dark place, where a voice—that voice—was giggling.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Now her fear had collapsed into pure panic. She struggled against him, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and tried to wrestle her arm free. Martin overpowered her easily, flung her around, and slammed her down hard against the desk. Evelyn's body hit the wood with a dull thud. Her head jerked forward, snapped back, and spun dizzily. Clockwise. Her vision blurred and became ringed with darkness. She was falling, plunging down to that cold, dark, guilty place.

"What's wrong, Tozier?" Martin asked breathlessly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Please stop!" she said, but her voice had slipped away from her and went up, up, up.

"You wanted attention, right? Wanted people to finally see you as a woman?"

"No! No!"

(YES!)

"Well, I see you, Tozier," Martin said. "Yeah, I see you crystal fucking clear."

Evelyn fell deeper and deeper, screaming without a sound, and slammed against something hard and cold. The bottom. She had finally hit the bottom. Her right cheek was pressed against the desk, and Martin's hand was on her head, holding her firmly in place. He didn't have to hold her down, though. Evelyn couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. She was too far gone, trapped in that cold, dark place, and now the guilt was creeping toward her on all fours, its eyes bright and hungry, desperate to feed. Evelyn lay on her stomach, paralyzed, watching it come closer and closer... closer and closer... until—

The knob turned and the door opened.

Henry Bowers stood on the other side, blinking in dazed bewilderment.

Martin threw him a vicious grin. "You want in on this, Bowers?" he asked while he pushed some of Evelyn's hair away from her face. "You can go first if you want."

Evelyn flinched away from Martin's hand and felt Henry's eyes land on her softly, gently, filling her heart with such sweet relief. For a moment, she thought she was weightless, flying, floating far away from that cold, dark guilty place, but then she saw something that turned her heart into stone, and she plummeted right back to the bottom.

Henry's eyes, those bright, beautiful blue eyes, had suddenly darkened into the most terrifying shade of black. Evelyn didn't even recognize them anymore.

Time crawled forward and stopped. The clock on the wall stopped ticking. Its hands screeched to a halt and stood at attention, waiting for their next command.

It came a second later, in a shocking act of betrayal.

"No," Henry said, "she's not worth it."

The door closed and time resumed with a violent lurch, knocking Evelyn backward, backward, backward. The clock on the wall started tocking and ticking, tocking and ticking: backward, backward, backward. Its hands went spinning, whirling, unwinding: backward, backward, backward. Counterclockwise. Taking them back. Taking them all the way back.

And now that voice was speaking to her again, speaking from that cold, dark place.

(You got what you wanted, didn't you?)

Yes, she answered. Yes, I did.

_____________________

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taglist: @secrethologramflower @rosepresley

#bowers gang #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss #belch huggins #fanfic #fanfiction #henry bowers fanfiction #patrick hockstetter fanfiction #it stephen king #it 2017 #paper men #ambrossart

26 notes · View notes

evil8keta · 2 years

Note

got any general headcanons for each tf2 merc? :D

miscellaneous tf2 mercs headcanons

SCOUT

- transgender asf

- uses terrible pick up lines and invites his dates to fast food restaurants and yet he's wondering why he can't pull any girls

- looks approachable but in reality you really don't wanna deal with this guy, he's a menace. doesnt matter if you're his friend or not, he'll backstab you for money (literally, of course)

- has an energy drink addiction. gets really snappy when he doesnt get his 5 cans of bonk atomic punch a day

- HATES silence, it stresses him out so he likes to put on some music whenever he can. it helps him focus and overall scout just prefers to have some sort of background noise while doing literally anything. the only problem is that he likes his music loud. like, the whole house is shaking kind of loud. the other mercenaries hate him for this, because when they tell him to quiet it down, he instead turns the volume all the way up like the little shit he is❤️ the only way to make scout turn it off is to fight him. it isnt that difficult to beat him up, but it's still annoying to go through all of this yknow

SOLDIER

- developed a hearing difficulty during his time in the war. if you're wondering if his bad hearing is the reason why he yells all the time, then no. he was always yelling like that

- keeps bringing random stray animals to the base. the others told him many times that NO, he can't just bring in wild animals whenever he wants to! medic literally fainted the last time soldier wanted to sneak a possum into the base. not gonna lie tho, it's pretty wholesome watching soldier "train" some random field rodents. they bite him and hiss at him, but soldier sees that as a sign of their resilience and love for fighting so all he does is watch them with a big smile on his face. he even praises them with stuff like "GOOD JOB RECRUITS! I AM SO PROUD!"

- has a very strict sleeping routine and always manages to get a perfect 8 hours of sleep. he doesn't even use an alarm, he just knows when to fall asleep and when to wake up and does so on command. also soldier looks very funny in his sleepwear. he wears a night gown and a big nightcap that covers his eyes

- evil autism

PYRO

- idk what mental illnesses pyro has to but oh boy there's definetely something very wrong with them

- their room is very.....interesting. on one side there's cute plushies and glow in the dark stickers. on the other side there's scorched furniture and -- oh my god are those human bones?!

- theyre like those slashers that take pictures of their victims. pyro hangs these gruesome photos of people dying on the walls of their room, but to them it's just cute selfies with their bffs 😼😼

- they sometimes bring their teammates body parts or organs of the enemies as a gift. kinda like how cats bring their owners dead animals. this is literally pyro's love language

- i have one joke headcanon about pyro and it's that they're not a human. pyro is actually just 20 frogs in a hazmat suit carrying a flamethrower

HEAVY

- literally the most reliable person on the team. he's super nice and friendly and polite and kind and very very caring......ok can you guys tell im biased towards him

- the opposite of scout. heavy looks very intimidating so it's hard to approach him at first but if you start talking to him you soon realize hes very nice to talk to :) awesome dude to just chill and eat sandwiches with

- bookworm!! his room is filled with a bunch of different books, most of them being in russian but he has some foreign ones too. i think heavy is very smart but it's just that his broken english makes him appear kinda dumb. he struggles with processing english sentences and pronunciation. that's why he speaks so simple and slow

- if you ask heavy if he is medic's wife he says yes, if you ask medic if heavy is his wife he says no. its up to you to decide who's lying

DEMOMAN

- talks in his sleep. like a LOT. dude will literally recite to u the periodic table during his 20 minute nap

- even more patriotic than soldier,which is saying a lot. has a bunch of pictures of scotland around his room and probably even wears underwear with the flag of scotland. he's literally like the embodiment of the guy yelling SCOTLAND FOREVER!!!!!

- demo feels insecure about his drinking habit. like usually he doesnt think too much about it, but sometimes he really feels ashamed of himself for being an alcoholic. his mood gets very sour on these days, so to feel better he reaches for another bottle of scrumpy to forget about his worries.....and the cycle continues

- often looses parts of his body due to working with bombs and other explosive stuff. honestly i have no idea what these guys would even do without medic

ENGINEER

- whenever it's his turn to cook for the base he's like "alright boys get ready to get blown away" and then it's just another barbecue. not gonna lie though, his food is delicious. the mercs gave him an apron saying king of the grill

- loves fishing!! and yea he unironically wears those women love me fish fear me shirts whenever he goes fishing. he genuinely thinks it's stylish

- invents random shit for fun. he spends most of his time alone in his workshop so who knows what weird things he's making. most of the time his personal little inventions are practical stuff, maybe something like an automatic beer opener or a toaster that never burns the bread. but he's definetely making something more, something bigger. idk what it is but maybe i dont even want to know

- has a really strange sense of humor. you can tell him the funniest joke ever with the most genius punchline known to mankind and hes gonna look at you with a blank expression, uttering a confused "...wha", but show him a picture of a chicken in shoes and hes gonna burst out laughing. oh engineer you would have loved 21st century humor

MEDIC

- has like 12 mental illnesses. yes he's aware of all of those. and YES he chooses to ignore his symptoms and doesn't take any medication

- he did loose his medical license, but that's because he kept experimenting on his patients. he still does that, except now he's actually allowed to do it (well, not really). but other than that he's still quiet skilled in his field and his abilities are nothing but impressive

- a total drama queen. also he's pretty germaphobic for a guy that digs his hands in someone's guts for a living

- loves his birds so much. he forgot their names, so now he calls them all archimedes. he loves taking care of them and doesnt trust any of the mercs with his birds. but heavy is an exception, heavy can feed them :)

SPY

- gets even LESS bitches than scout does. LITERAL ZERO!! he miraculously pulled scout's ma but ever since then the man had a catastrophically low amount of bitches. maybe it's because of the balaclava he never washes

- horrible, horrible man. he can be responsible and polite but only if it's beneficial for him, other than that he's pretty rude to everyone he meets. he's respectful towards women tho, but that's basic standards

- spy is the inventor of your mom jokes. it's true, he told me himself

- don't tell anyone but spy loves romantic comedies. however he thinks liking romcoms is like the most embarrassing thing ever and really doesn't want anyone to think he's sappy like that, but in reality most of his teammates know he's a hopeless romantic and they really don't care

- is the best cook on the team, but very rarely makes food for the others. he always complains about how everyone else's food is bad and how only his food is digestable, but he never cooks himself. the only way to get him into the kitchen is to do something nice for him in return. smh

SNIPER

- neurodivergent asf

- ok so you know how some introverts dont like to approach others so they just stare at the person they want to talk to until theyre noticed? well yea sniper does that. like sure he could just go and talk to someone directly but why do that when he can just. stare ominously

- bird enjoyer!! brings medic's doves little treats when the doctor isnt looking

- has a VERY quetionable diet. he's like those dudes on youtube that eat moss and bugs and talk about how nutritial it is. sniper is used to staying long periods of time outside, so he's used to any and all challenges the wildlife can offer. he may look scrawny, but he totally wrestled an alligator at some point in his life (and won)

- he's the team's exterminator. if there's a spider in the base sniper puts it in a jar and releases it outside <3

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #keta writes #headcanons

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brokentoys · 10 months

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Speaking of the good comics, which ones are those or what ones do you recommend?

Okie! ✌️ I'll list my absolute favorite ones!

Batman Chronicles #3 (1995) / Riddle of the Jinxed Sphinx.

This one is actually a mini-story in a comic filled with three mini stories. (The other two being about Zsasz, and Croc) - but that doesn't matter. Despite it being a short story, you get a good look in Ed's head. This is actually a take on the "Eddie tries to give up leaving riddles behind". Which there's been at least three of those I can recall. Most people know of the one based on the Animated Series / New Adventures of Batman & Robin. And while that one's good. This one's the best because it focuses on Riddler more rather than Batman and Robin trying to figure out if Eddie's actually giving up riddles or not. It's also more realistic to OCD compared to the other one(s) which does it in a sillier manner. I'd go into depth as to why, but I don't wanna spoil anything.

That being said...

Batman Gotham Adventures #11 (1999) / The Oldest One in the Book!

Even though, imo, it's not as good as above, I still recommend reading it regardless! It has a very emotional ending, and it still has some characterization points I like. (Dealing with Ed's shame regarding his mental illnesses). Which is funny, given that I actually dislike most of the Gotham Adventure comics with Eddie because they also watered down his character to be a money grubby thief and nothing more. (When that goes against everything about Animated Series Eddie from the beginning - who didn't care about money / tried to kill a greedy CEO)

Batman #23.2 (2013) / Solitaire

May be my FAVORITE Eddie comic. Maybe. Also you'll notice it's one of the few recent / post New 52 comics I'll add to this list. It's such a satisfying read.

DC Strange Love Adventures (2022) / Dinner for Two

EDDIE IS CANONICALLY BISEXUAL HELL YEAH. A short story in a comic with many short comics (most of them are Movie Baits) but this one is so so so so fucking good. Probably the best Riddler comic in the last nine years or so (at its time). Which is sad. But it's a comic that truly understands what a lonely person Eddie is. Which I wish more comics would acknowledge that. Amazing read. It's the last one in the book, though.

BATMAN #608-619 (2002) / HUSH

If you read this one expecting Riddler - just know you won't see much of him. But by god, the moments you DO see him? Totally worth it. Jeph gave a new concept for Riddler, and how he could be a WONDERFUL villain. Unfortunately DC discarded all of this.

Batman Confidential #26, #27, #28 (2009)

A Batman and Riddler team up comic! Although there are parts I've felt were contrived, this is a VERY enjoyable one that's three parts. Eddie and Bruce's dynamic is just so fun and hilarious (in a good way!) And Eddie's characterization is also entertaining as hell. It helps show how Bruce and Eddie can help each other, too.

The Brave and the Bold #183 (1982) / The Death of Batman

ANOTHER Batman and Riddler team up comic, though older! This one's also a blast just because, again, Eddie and Bruce's dynamic is so entertaining. But Bruce's patience seems to be much thinner in this one, because he snaps at Riddler A LOT. They also share some pretty hilarious back and forths.

Detective Comics Annual #8 (1995) / Questions Multiple The Mystery

In this one, Eddie finally opens up to an Arkham psychiatrist, and tells his story. Whilst this one, unfortunately, goes with the "Eddie is a cheat and cheated in school" concept - the rest of it makes up for that. I also feel it has some good depictions of his psychosis. May even been the first comic to show him struggling with psychosis? But I can't quite remember that.

Gotham City Sirens #3 (2010)

About a reformed Eddie. And man, he just has some good development in this is all.

Gotham City Sirens #9 and #10 (2010)

This one has many reasons why I love it - like how I love most of these, it's another comic that gets deep into his psychology. And for once, depicts Eddie as beating himself up / talking down on himself rather than the generic "I'm THE GREATEST PERSON ALIVE-" I guess what I'm saying it also feels like a more realistic depiction of NPD.

HONORARY MENTIONS

BATMAN ZERO YEAR (2013) ... YEAH THIS ALSO WENT ON FOR LIKE 12 FUCKING ISSUES

I didn't love this comic. And frankly, it was definitely dragged out waaaay longer than it needed to be. That's because they literally wanted this to go on for a year (as comics release monthly) But imo, it took way too long to start and takes many issues in before it gets actually interesting. But I bother to mention it here just because it's one of the very, very, very few events where Eddie's the main antagonist. (Other than the War of Jokes and Riddles - but you'll never see me recommending a Tom King book) So props to him. And it still has some fine moments.

Batman Legends of the Dark Knight #185-189 (2005) / Riddle Me That

EMO PLASTIC SURGERY RIDDLER. MY BELOATHED. I literally have a love/hate relationship with this one. Riddler's design, and his characterization was just... okay???? And it's way longer than it should be. This was an attempt to rebrand the character to Appeal to the Modern Kids - and kinda spat on Eddie's old design, plus everything Jeph Loeb did with Hush. Which all failed. However, there are still some things I really enjoy in this comic. For one, it MIGHT be the first to retcon the "Eddie's a cheat / Eddie cheated in school" and instead changed it to that he was a victim of gaslighting by jealous parents. I would say it may be the first time Eddie was depicted as an abuse victim - but I don't know if it's credited to this comic, as it seems like that's just an idea DC must've had in general. As Alex Ross' Justice also mentioned him being beaten by his father for "cheating/lying," and Batman 2004 cartoon also depicted Eddie with a bad father (though the abuse was watered down due to being a kid's show) so it seems like that's just something DC told everyone they were doing with Ed's character or something. Anyway, despite having several glaring issues - there are still moments I love in this comic, regardless. Read it with caution, I guess.

JUSTICE #2 (2005)

While part of a short series, I've only ever read this one. It's an enjoyable one! Ed's intelligence is also credited in this one. However, I like it for it also mentions the abuse Eddie went through. It's also where I got my URL from.

Catwoman: Lonely City (2022)

A Catwoman comic? Why? Because Eddie's drug abuse is mentioned (also since it's a future, it's revealed he got clean <3) and he also fucks Catwoman. What more could you want?

There are more I could recommend. But these are, imo, the very best ones. Of course, I will also recommend watching the Animated Series (he was only in three eps </3) as well as checking him out in Arkham City and Arkham Origins - as those are my fav Eddies in those games.

#( 🧩 ✧ INFERIOR PUPPETEER ✧ | OOC )#( 🧩 ✧ SENT TO ARKHAM ✧ | INBOX )#long post

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gontagokuhara · 4 months

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po!Nagito: *literally saves hajime from death, lives together with him, has been in a relationship with him since ancient times, has basically been raising children with him for centuries, is quite literally married to him*

also po!Nagito: does he even like me fr

It's like I understand it as a komahina enjoyer but it also makes me wanna cry as a komaeda enjoyer😭 though he's not in the story much your characterization is so full and spot on that like I can fully understand the characters who only show up in 2 chapters (cough cough TAKAA my beloved<3) Like in only 2 chapters of screen-time we literally saw the interior design/gardening geek nagito, the panicked and screamy nagito, the tired dad nagito, the heartbroken nagito, and the god of luck who played rockpaper scissors for his husband's life, again, in like 2 chapters alone!!!! Don't get me started on taka I already rambled about him in the comment section

P.S. It's also funny how literally everyone (mainly kokichi) is questioning the big five's relationship choices 💀 I honestly feel like naegami has something to do with "big five god eye candy"💀💀💀💀💀

just for the record i literally do not mind these asks/questions in the slightest to the contrary i LOOOOOOVE yapping especially about danganronpa especially about my own writing especially about pointy objects. no spoilers, but i do get a little in the weeds about behind-the-scenes, doesn't-fit-in-main-fic stuff

speaking of yapping: YOU KNOW THE DRILL

if only the extent of my yapping was known.........nagito and hajime are my favorite barbie dolls to mash together i love thinking about them i love writing them they are my danganronpa #2 and #3 (gonta <3) i am So mentally ill about them. ok.

so it makes me SOOOOO happy when people say they get my characterization. getting beneath a character's skin and making them feel both 1) recognizable as said character but also 2) distinct in that they fit naturally in the universe i'm writing them in is The thing i'm most attuned to when writing i think. (that and sniffing out plotholes i am so pedantic about my story telling). focusing on the v3 kids gives me very ample time to flesh them out into a balanced mix of the two, but with characters that aren't mainstays it makes me very happy hearing that it's not just, like, a dialogue machine spitting plot-relevant lines and instead the actual character that's meant to be talking. you know? ALL of that to say nagito is notoriously a tough nut to crack, it's a crapshoot on what you'll see him characterized as (with the potential to be really REALLY good and really Uh not so much), so hearing good things about MY guy <3 makes my heart grow five sizes or whatever

ok ok. god help us all when i post kmha writing again IM insane so moving on: other insane people (kokichi) (rantarou)

i could ALSO yammer on for ages about the messy god drama that i've mapped out in my mind palace. i can get much more specific once the fic is actually wrapped but the big five ESPECIALLY. oh what a mess. oh what a nightmare. there's like 1 and a half sane motherfuckers in that club and the half is presently threatening to end the world along with half the others. so. LMFAO

relationship drama especially (i've said that word so much oopsies) among the gods but the big five.........oh great heavens. it's not even the newest relationship within the big five but naegami has sooooo many haters. junko (makotophobic), mikan (in an abusive relationship, functionally makotophobic), nagito (byakuyaphobic), fuyuhiko & peko (also byakuyaphobic), izuru (thinks they're both cringe), hajime (wouldn't send rantarou/shuuichi to camp no matter how much he begged).....and that's only characters we've seen on screen so far LOL. kokichi is not alone in being a hater rather he's the new generation of virulently homophobic gay people. love wins <3

(also as an aside of the 'eye candy' thing; in the human world makoto doesn't beat the trophy husband allegations, but among the gods the roles are 100% reversed LOLLLLLLLLL when shit isn't hitting the fan he gets sooooo bullied during meetings if makoto isn't there)

okay and LAST thing that i sorta briefly touched on a second ago: no, rantarou has not been to camp before! hajime and nagito have offered COUNTLESS times, especially since shuuichi's mother died, but they've remained adamant on their decision to keep them at home in defiance of junko. they have very, very good reason to be extra vigilant about their kids' safety, and when contending with rantarou's precognition + shuuichi's ignorance on the gods......rantarou has been very informed on things, from a very young age. obviously he doesn't get Everything, but he's kept pretty up-to-date on the affairs of the gods. he knows about camp, he knows there are about a dozen or so there, and he knows who the counselors are — knew who hajime was as soon as he began teaching at he and shuuichi's last school, and who nagito was/had his number from a chat he and hajime had very early on into his tenure as their history teacher.

wow okay. THAT got long (as always) but as always i luv answering them!! so thank you <3

#ask #bittercideristaken #pointy objects #un ange

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the1trueanon · 7 months

Text

hey guys, i'm gonna still try to post art and do streams, but other than that i'm gonna be offline for a little while

not super long, maybe a week? i'm just a little mentally and physically burnt out (forever haunted by insomnia O-O), and might be a little sick. nothing too big, just a possible ear infection, but i honest to god haven't even realized my ears have been hurting XD i started getting waves of slight dizziness and tunnel hearing today and it sort of brought it to my attention that "hey anon, this might be more than just be allergies 👀" (this is, in fact, a regular occurrence with me and my ear infections. i hardly register that they hurt and its more other symptoms that make me catch them. i may be a bit personally stupid lol 😅) anyway, i think my body's been trying to fight that off without me noticing, so between that and insomnia and the physical labor that is holding my job, i have worn myself out a lot physically, and its starting to reflect mentally (especially with everything going on, locally and around the world which i do have posts i have read and am going to share once i get back). so ill be taking a bit of time to rest and beat back the horrible mental creatures in my brain before i can pop back up here and hopefully start giving 100% again. or at least, like, 75%.

thanks for being patient with me 💖💖💖 you guys are super cool. keep an eye out for art and stream posts, cause i still wanna try to do those if i can, and if you wanna help me out while i'm resting, just sharing my art around is enough 💖

you guys all rock 💖💖💖💖

#i am #so tired #this is a level of tired i dont think ive physically carried around in years #which i mean #coincidentally my iron immune system has held up for about the same amount of time (not counting colds or stomach bugs) so i mean XD #fr we literally are having to figure out what doctor i need to go to cause its been that long since ive been sick. i have to switch doctors #✨adulting✨#but ill be fiiiiineeeee we'll get it all fixed up and goood #i just need to sleep for a week /j #anon speaks #tw sickness #tw sick mention #tw ear infection #anon rambles in the tags

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recoverychronicles · 8 months

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Post;

I don’t know if anybody will end up reading any of what i write, if anybody will care about what i write, i guess the only things that matters is how i feel about typing all this out.

If you’re someone that is going through what i did, you’ve recently survived/recovered/got out, i hope you connect with something I’m saying, and maybe you feel less alone. I wish that along my own journey i had someone that cared or i connected to. I felt alone, and everyone that knew about my abuse aided him in gaslighting me, in my eyes that makes them almost as bad as him.

Id say, now 2 years on and sober, I’m doing okay.

2 years sober. Of a slowly inclining addiction. I actually beat it, i came out stronger, i came out the winner.

I don’t have the temptation of using, I don’t have the urge to “just once” have a hit. I get scared taking Panadol for fucks sake. My Endo surgery was a real test to my pain killer addiction, but i came out of that without a bump. I even went to a music festival with them, and yeah I had the thought that i could take some codeine, but I didn’t, i had no need for it. I was too amped up on caffeine.

I don’t have the temptation to smoke weed anymore, I can’t even stand the smell of it anymore.

Sometimes, i wanna do a cap at a concert or a music festival, purely just for the vibes. To be able to experience that in the state of mind MD gives you. However, i can go to kick ons at someone’s house, and rack up lines for others and not even have the temptation to ask for a line, to ask for a bump. I just don’t care for it in that way anymore.

Cocaine. My worst enemy. It’s the one thing I wouldn’t be able to say no to. Every death that has happened to the family in the past year, every terminal illness someone has been diagnosed with, all I’ve wanted to do is buy a bag and get high. All I’ve wanted to do is cope in the best way i know how, with drugs. I know that my god mother would be disappointed in herself, my grandma would be disappointed in in herself, my god father would be disappointed in himself, if i were to react to what happened to them in that way.

I get sad sometimes thinking that i ruined casual drug usage for myself by getting addicted, but some people aren’t built to take it easy on drugs, addiction is an illness, and there isn’t a cure for it. I know that drugs weren’t good for my mental health, hence why i begged him to stop doing them with me, but he wasn’t ready to accept we were both toxic on them and during the come down.

I have officially broken up with drugs.

I have my days where the sexual abuse still gets to me. I think on the other end of the spectrum, i have begun to over sexualise myself, because i was seen as an object for so long, that all i can see myself as. I don’t understand why someone would like me for reasons outside of a sexual nature, that’s something i still have to work on. People prove it to me everyday that that’s not all they are after when maintaining a friendship with me, but the sickness in the back of my mind wont let it go.

I still jump at loud noises, i still snap when something is triggering, i still get shaken up when something reminds me of that time in my life.

I feel i am at a comfortable stage in my healing that this is the right outlet for me. I have done a lot of work and healing to get to where i am today. 2 and a half years ago I wasn’t allowed to work, and now i maintain 2 jobs, where the people like me. I celebrated 2 years sober in August, with the evanescence concert in my state. I have amazing friends who look after me, and cherish me for who i am. They acknowledge that i am sober, and look after me in that regard, they respect me as woman and as a survivor.

It does get better, even if it doesn’t feel like it in the stage that you are in. I promise.

#tw abuse #tw sex abuse #tw drugs

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delusion-of-negation · 2 years

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Alright well as a Christian I'm supposed to forgive you but it's NOT gonna be easy. You, that pervert guy and that pedo tranny Dasha are EVERYTHING wrong with the world right now. It's YOUR FAULT our society has no morals. Congradufuckinglations you've made a girl with anxiety depression and BPD cry :)

forgive me for what, exactly? what did I specifically, only me, do?

because I don't remember doing anything bad to or with you, I wasn't involved in any group chats, I didn't spend time with you nor attack you. honestly, as far as I recall, I've said more about you these last few days, and all of that has been talking about finding out who you are, what happened, and what can be done to help end this mental break you're having - a mental break you seem to think justifies bombarding people with slurs and insults.

if you're gonna start forgiving me for shit I didn't do, then I'd rather you start by forgiving me for killing the dinosaurs, demoting pluto, and creating the coronavirus with stolen lab equipment.

dasha isn't a pedo, you dumb fuck, and falsely accusing people of being attracted to kids isn't gonna cure you of the alleged trauma of being a dumb kid who thought you'd make buddies in the anti-feminist community and then it turned out they were just as fucked as any community, and you got hate and made enemies.

we've all been through that shit, but the rest of us get therapy and move on with our lives - if I'm not blowing up the inboxes of people who tortured, sexually assaulted, starved, and beat me as a toddler, a child, a teen, I think you can handle not harassing people who knew someone who knew someone who said some mean shit in your tumblr inbox. when you're afraid of someone who actually hurt you, you don't make it your life's mission to antagonise people tangentially related to them to put yourself back on the radar of the people who actually dislike you - or, in case I need to spell it out, I don't buy your claims about your reasoning one bit.

I think you're being a pathetic attention whore who knows none of the people you're messaging - ace, dasha, etc, and now me - could or would do a single thing to hurt you, you know we're not what you claim, so you feel safe slinging whatever insults your tiny brain can conjure up, so that you can scream about how sad you are and get validation and comfort and requests for forgiveness from people nice enough to care about your temper tantrum. or more backlash and argumentation to fuel your persecution complex.

and you're too pathetic to even think of anything imaginative so you resort to ace's username, dasha's trans status, false allegations, and now you're trying to use the fact that I advocate for mentally ill people as a way to get at me - it's hollow and low effort.

I've tried to be nice the last few days, tried to say it sucks that stuff happened, that I hope you get well, etc, and all you've done is get worse and worse to people in their anons, I'm tired of trying.

as a "christian" (which you barely even are, you're just a wanna-be evangelical fundie fuck repeating what the big names in that area disingenuously vomit out), you're supposed to believe that forgiveness comes from god, that mortals are not called to judge on his behalf - and it's a damn good job because you'd be throwing people in hell for passing some guy on the street who's cousin once sold a spliff to someone he didn't know was seventeen.

while we're on the topic, I was raised around dumbass fucked up catholics (if you couldn't tell from my aforementioned childhood experiences), and you've got every single red flag for "fuckface who's only religious to justify being a fuckface" disease.

buddy, I'm a zombie, I know brain-dead when I see it, and you're on a whole new level of it. so cry more. your mental health issues make me feel sorry for you no more than mine made you not want to send this anon. or, in case I need to spell it out again, I don't give a fuck, you ain't special, I've got a list more than ten times as long as that and I'm not here using it to justify calling people slurs.

sucks that you're sick, but you're not gonna get sympathy points when you act like a slimy little wretch for days on end. I get it, being ill makes you mean sometimes, I've been there. still not my job to be your daddy and tell you to go eat some pasta and chill.

and I wish society had no morals, I wish I was giving it none, I wish I was half the amoral influence that you give me credit for.

I'm sick of puritanical, pseudo-religious, over-moralising of every insignificant aspect of our lives - we don't get a moment's peace from being asked to weigh in on every allegation in the news, every company's practices, whether it's okay to listen to some guy's songs, if your thoughts can make you a terrible person, the politics of other countries, the backlash to the backlash to the backlash to the backlash to some celebrity's baby name, whether some rando is "really trans", and a youtuber's mental health issues.

at this point I would gladly trade it in to be a four year-old chimney sweep in victorian england engaged to my cousin, fuck it. at least my aunt-mother-in-law in that world wouldn't believe in chemtrails and couldn't even spell problematic. it'd be total bliss.

in summary, I don't want forgiveness for shit I didn't do, especially from you. I want you to grow up, you bitchy little cunt.

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