#Despite everything I've said I have so much more faith and hope now more than ever. We will prevail.

[hexastitchimera]

Genuine observation, no sass and no disrespect, but being someone who is chronically OFFline & an active volunteer/activist for over a decade, and seeing what people say is "crucial discourse" online is... Quite the trip, honestly.

[dirtytransmasc]

I think the most depressing part of Isha's death is how predictable it was. we all saw it coming. which, with most pieces of media, one might say her character and her 'arc' was cheap in that sense. that she was added in for the sake of a tragic, but nonetheless, pointless death to spur the plot along. but it was so much more than that.

she was doomed from the beginning. from the very first clip of her. and not necessarily in an obvious way, per say. there was no one moment that lets you in on her fate. but it was an aura that radiated off of her since she arrived. she was doomed, much like Jinx was doomed, and Powder was doomed.

because Isha is a lot of things. good. hope. a child of Zaun.

but most importantly, she is Powder. and Powder will always die. again and again and again. that is her fate. Powder, in any form, whether it's the dying threads in Jinx or the girl she saw herself in, will always die.

and Jinx is doomed to always be Jinx. she will never be more than that. can never be more, because she is the inevitable, unavoidable, unshakable effect of Piltover's cruelty. so long as there is Piltover, and all of the rich and powerful that will stop at nothing to keep themselves in place and in power. there will be Jinx. and if that means the little girl that almost brought Powder back needs to die to keep Jinx in place? then so be it. the girl will die.

with the death of Isha, we see these things: the death of innocence. the death of hope. and the death of Powder.

Isha was a good, innocent kid. she frequently put her body between those she sought to protect (Jinx, Vander, etc.). she fought to protect Jinx several times. she brought out the good in those around her. she helped care for Vander. and despite this fight in her, she was just an innocent little kid was so much kindness in her heart, despite living ina world that condemned her existence and could have hardened her and made her cruel. she was just good. so good. and that's just that.

she was also a representation of hope. she gave Jinx herself, Sevika, even Vi, Hope that Jinx could recover, that she could be brought back from the bottom, back to sanity, back to happiness. she raised Jinx's flare at the rally, the flare that represented Jinx's hope in her sister, and gave the people of Zaun faith in Jinx and their power as a collective. she gave Jinx and Vi hope of having a family again. she was this little ray of light that convinced people to continue.

and, as I've said, her death was Powder's death. she literally became Powder. she had Jinx paint her hair, and she paralleled powder to a T, and she was everything Powder was. and she brought Powder back out in Jinx. and now she is dead. and Jinx will slip back to what she was (like how she did, very briefly, when Sevika told her that Isha was taken), and be undoubtedly worse than before. whatever remains of Powder within Jinx is truly gone now. I don't think there is a single thread of her left. I think from now on, all we will see is Jinx (though I do think she will be different. Jinx had said Jinx is dead, just like Powder was. so I think whatever she will be now, will be interesting).

and all along, you knew she was going to die. she was too good. too perfect. to be allowed to live. but you hoped against hope that you were wrong, and you could tell those around her did too. you hoped she would escape the fate of Powder. you hoped she would escape the fate of Jinx. escape the fate of Zaun itself to die or be changed. and Isha could never change. she could never become a Jinx or a Vi or Sevika or any of the people we see out of Zaun. so instead she had to die, it take all of the change she created with her.

that is the very cycle of Zaun itself.

and the other part of that, is the inherent feeling that she died far too soon. her story, her arc, all of it, felt cut short. you expected it, but it felt too soon. and that too, was the beautiful, yet tragic, point.

there was no reason. there was no reason for her to die, not as she did. nothing will come of her death, outside of Jinx's insanity. no one will gain anything. Piltover and Ambessa put her in the position to die, but they have only shot themselves in the foot. but Isha's death has no real impact other than making those around her hurt. it didn't summarize her arc. it did not move the story forward. if anything it regressed the story back by cutting off Jinx's development.

and she was a child who could have done so much good, simply by existing. she didn't even have to do anything. just by being by Jinx's side, she was doing good. and I know as she grew, she could have done amazing things. but the curse of being a Zaunite and someone close to Jinx (cause girly can't have shit) got to her. she died before her story could even start. you knew that. you could see it. you feel that anger. you feel like it came too soon.

and now this little sweetheart cutie patootie has left behind her unfinished story. she left behind Jinx and Sevika and even Vi. Jinx will lose her mind again. Sevika will lose both of her girls. Vi and Jinx will lose the threads of family starting to form around them. another flare of hope for Zaun has died.

[d8nielaa]

can you write a jason schmidt x reader story :)

Reader goes to college in California so she has not been able to see him perform in the outsiders and that of course makes him sad but he understands until one day she decides to surprise him and he sees her when he is doing stage door.

if not i understand!! thank youuuu :)

Authors Note: yes ofcc anon! im a little hesitant to write and post this because i know how people are when it comes to writing about real actors and celebrities. im a little scared cause the other day i got some really degrading messages for the brody fic but, i think ill be okay because I have posted more than 5 Dan Berry fics sooo

I’m Here

Jason Schmidt x fem!reader

I didn’t want to leave New York, I love that place with all my heart. But I knew if i was gonna go to college, it had to be out of state. I wanted more than just tall skyscrapers and noisy streets. I wanted more space, and to meet new people. So when i opened my acceptance email from CSUN, i was thrilled. But then, i remembered that I’d be leaving Jason. Before previews for The Outsiders.

Now, i was second guessing my decision. But it was already too late. My bags were packed and the ticket was booked, I’d be staying at the dorms they have over there. It’s gonna be hard. The busy schedules and different time zones, we’d barely have time for each other.

But i was determined to make it work. I would stay faithful and keep Jason in my heart. All i could do was hope that he did the same. Which he did. We would call every chance we got, to which we always expressed our feelings and how much we missed each other. Which was enough to keep me going, but recently, I’ve been missing him more. Way more than I should be.

So, i booked a ticket and packed my bags for a week. I was going back to New York to see Jason.

It was around 4 am when i left, my flight left at 7. I made it on time and bordered my flight, which i never thought I’d be able to do alone because i hate flying.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After about 5 hours and 30 minutes later, I made it back to New York. Back home. I was able to get a very last minute ticket to tonights show, so I quickly dropped my stuff off at a hotel and made my way to the theater. Where I would see Jason again.

Yes it has only been a few months, but you can't blame me for missing my boyfriend. You'd feel the same.

I got to the theater, giving the usher my ticket. He handed me a playbill and escorted me to my seat. A few minutes later, the show started.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The show was amazing, everything I had expected it to be. Jason's singing and acting..Gosh it just blew me away. I have never been so proud of someone like that before. Jason was one of the most talented people I've ever known, and I'm glad he's my boyfriend.

Once the show ended, I quickly made my way to the stage door. Jason's friends/coworkers slowly began coming out. Emma Pittman remembered me, and pointed me out to Brent Comer, who smiled and hugged me over the barricade.

"Jason's gonna be so happy to see you, he misses you like crazy." He said, patting your shoulder before moving on to the next person.

Daryl Tofa, also remembered me.

"Yooo, y/n/n! Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you" Daryl said, hugging me over the barricade, just like Brent and Emma had done. I smiled, hugging him in return.

"I think Jason's comin' out right no-" He was cut off by the sound of the stage door opening and the fans at the barricade screaming. Me and Daryl both looked and saw Jason, who was ready to sign a load of playbills.

However, when he turned his head and saw me, everything changed. Daryl backed away as Jason practically ran up to me, hugging me tightly against the barricade. I hugged him back, despite the slight pain that came from the metal bars being pressed against me.

Jason seemed to notice this, and held onto me tightly, pulling me up and over the barricade with the help of Daryl. He put me down on the floor, hugging me tightly as tears came to my eyes. I of course hugged him back, not really caring if the girls at the barricade were recording this interaction.

"I'm here Jason..I'm here"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note: Heyyy guyss!! yay another upload! I got another fic coming soon and I'm sorry for the slow uploads, school has made me so tired and im actually crashing out 😋

[gojoscloset]

“Hey! Are your requests still open? If not , feel free to ignore this one!I read your last geto angst , and I just loved it .Could you do a Geto X reader where reader killed herself because she couldn't bear being a sorcerer? And maybe the effect this has on Geto?

Again , feel free to ignore this, but if you end up doing it , then thank you!

- JuJu”

Requested Geto Suguru x reader angst!

Warnings: pure angst no fluff ! Mentions/implications of reader suicide! Grieving, nothing but sad stuff man! Also not proof read, literally did this at work

Ily thank you for requesting bby! Also readers! Please read notes at the end because I have questions on how tumblr works LOL please send help

“We’re thinking about going out for dango and maybe karaoke afterwards, wanna come?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to sit this one out”

“….you shouldn’t just lock yourself away in your room All the time. It’s not good for you, you know !!” Shoko waved a finger in a stern yet playful manner. Geto let out a breathy chuckle, a small smile following after, however the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Shoko noticed the unauthentic smile but said nothing as she didn’t want to pry, there was no need to. She already knew the reasons why Suguru would hide away in his room, they all knew.

“Yeah I know I know. But I've been really tired lately, you know I don’t do well in the heat.” He tugged at his collar in attempts to cool himself off.

“Well you’re more than welcome to join us if you change your mind!” Shoko playfully slapped him on his shoulder as she walked by “and respond to the group chat from time to time dummy, we miss you!” She gave him a knowing smile and was out the door in a flash seeming to be in a rush, Suguru simply waved and watched her figure flash out the entrance.

A warm breeze blew through the open window and into the now empty classroom. Geto stared out the window and listened as the cicadas' song rang around him, filling in the silence of the vacant room.

It was his first summer without you.

The first summer since your suicide.

Everyone took your death pretty hard, but it hit Suguru the hardest. It was evident to everyone that the dynamic the two of you had was a strong one, a special one, nearly as attached to the hip like Satoru. Whenever it wasn’t Satoru and Suguru it was Suguru and y/n. Whatever free time he had away from his best friend he would gladly give to you, no questions asked.

You brought out a softness in him that he thought he lost long ago, you were the sun that made him glow like the moon.Your kind demeanor and attitude was refreshing not only for him but for everyone you graced with your presence. You, unlike many others, still had life in your eyes and had faith in humanity. Despite the things life threw at you, including hurling you into the sorcerer lifestyle, you believed that things would change for the better eventually. Many called it Naivety. But you called it hope.

You could only imagine how much of a shock it was to everyone once they found out about your fate. It was very hard to believe that someone like you would do that to yourself, so much so Suguru refused to believe it was suicide and wanted to further investigate the situation. In his mind there was no way someone like you, the literal sun, would have suicidal ideologies.

But everything lined up, letters you left behind for certain friends and family members spoke of things only you would know.

Suguru experienced many deaths and losses but he was absolutely blindsided and crushed by yours.

Another gust of wind snapped him out of his trance. He walked to the window, closing it gently and locking it up before moving back to where he was seated. He looked around the classroom, bright orange rays of light seeped in and adorned the room.

“Golden hour” he whispered to himself

-

“Hell yeah it’s golden hour! Take a selfie with me!”

You flipped open your phone, going straight for the camera. You fixed your hair in the reflection of the screen before flipping it around and huddling closer to Suguru.

“What the hell is golden hour?” He looked into the camera as you took the photo, trying his best to comply with your wishes. The camera snapped and you flipped the phone around, immediately a face of disappointment replaced your happier one.

“ this would’ve been a cute picture if you didn’t look like that! Tch…men” You pointed at the photo, his face looked uninterested and confused. He leaned in to take a better look at the photo. You playfully glared at him the whole time he examined the selfie.

“What do you mean? that’s just my face”

You burst into laughter and shove him away.

“Shut up! You’re much cuter than.. that!” You flashed him the photo again and pointed at his side of the photo

“And golden hour dummy! You know, when the sun sets and everything is orangey and golden, hence the name golden hour. It makes your photos look really good…well… sometimes” You both laugh at the playful jab.

—

Suguru chuckled quietly to himself and looked at your old desk, tucked away in the corner of the classroom, still embellished with beautiful bows and wilted flowers that no one dared to throw away. Paper cranes from your best friends with lipstick stains scattered on the seat, blessings and goodbyes scribbled on the desk itself. No one believed in vandalizing school property but for you there was an exception.

He grabbed his items and quietly left the vicinity, which was something he dreaded the most because everything in the outside world brought him back to you, but nothing was the same. Golden hour wasn’t as bright and warm, the songs the birds sang seemed out of tune, ice cream didn’t taste sweet anymore even if it came in your favorite flavor.

Suguru wondered a lot about how things could have been different. Naturally as one of your best friends he took part of the blame, beating himself up for not being able to read the signs ahead of time. He wished he could have been more attentive when you complained about the lifestyle, or when you would go quiet after missions. The little things he didn’t pick up until after it was too late weighed him down like a pile of bricks were attached to his back. He stayed up night after night, losing sleep and even losing weight over the guilt and stress of not having you there with him.

On his worst nights he thought about meeting you sooner than expected. He always told himself it was in theory because he ‘would never actually do it’ but the thought was enticing on the harder days.

Today being one of them. But Suguru couldn’t do it, because that’s not what you would want. He knew you would want him to go out and live life happily like you once did, seeing the world through a colorful Lens, so he attempted to from time to time.

“What dango place are you guys at again?”

He texted the group chat and almost immediately was bombarded with responses from his companions who have not heard from him in what seemed like months.

Suguru placed a hand on your desk, careful not to smear or smudge any of the writing your loved ones left for you. “Remember when you said time heals all wounds?” He began speaking to you in hopes you could feel him and his energy wherever you were. I sadly don’t think that’s true. I miss you and golden hour isn’t the same nor as pretty without you. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon” he smiled and gently tapped the desk with his knuckle as if to say goodbye

He made his way to the door and he swears sometimes before he leaves he could feel you in the room with him, even if it’s just for a few seconds.

Hope you liked it love thank you for requesting! Sorry it’s short, stuff like this makes me v v v sad LOL ❤️

Requests are currently closed because I want to push out a bunch of drabbles my brain has been thinking about lmaooo

Also question:

Was looking through my ooooold tumblr, terrible idea by the way and I noticed I got shadow banned really early into that account, what the heck did I do? Lol

Are there tips not to get SB ? What to avoid? Certain tags? Idk but please lmk if you know I’m still new to this technically LOL

Thanks in advance 🫶🏼

[viaviv124]

My partner @kaihoney and i cooked up a lil something for all the Solomon x Simeon shippers.

Veeeeery slight spoilers just for context bits but like it's stuff brought up in Lesson 15 so idk.

So, angels aren't exactly allowed to date humans, right? Well it just happens a very specific angel with already an offense under his belt fell for a human and said human felt the same. Being the faithful angel he is, Simeon openly brought it up in front of his father, thinking maybe Solomon would be an exception considering his status in both the Devildom and Celestial Realm. Well, he wasnt. And considering this is Simeon's second offense the punishment was even harder. This time he didn't just slip down a few ranks, no, this time he fell entirely. He was cast down to Devildom, now a demon. Lucifer was there to steady him through the first rush of panic, as Barbatos saw what would happen and told Lucifer to be the one to greet him.

A room in the House of Lamentation was cleared for him, now a brother once more, and Solomon stood by his side as much as he could. This was much appreciated, considering the wreck he was the first few weeks, maybe months. Simeon was usually known for his calm composure, but now? He's panicked, paranoid, emotional, easily irritated, cries a lot and despite the people around him he feels so lost and alone. Ironic, he thought, it used to be his job to guide lost little sheep and now he's one of them, helpless. Simeon is desperate for Solomon to stay close and reaffirm his feelings for him, he's lost everything he's known for this love so it shouldn't be all for nothing. Solomon's calm nature helps him a lot.

I also have this piece of dialogue in my mind, the context being s conversation with Luke once he's more adjusted and grounded:

"i cannot say truthfully that i don't regret my actions. It hurts and i doubt the pain will ever fully fade, it will take a while until i can smile and laugh in earnest again. I do love Solomon or this would've never even happend, but love can only get you so far through everything. A single reciprocated feeling was able to take everything i've known from me, that is a fact. I'm the only one to blame for this predicament, i know the rules more than anyone and have suffered punishment before. It'd be foolish to blame anyone else, especially Solomon. All i can hope is that this love will last at least for a while so this wasn't was for nothing."

On the topic of Luke, yeah he just lowkey lost his dad to the creatures he despises the most and it messes it up. The other angels don't make it exactly easier for him, too. Yet despite him being a demon now, Luke cannot stay away from Simeon. Because that's still his guardian, the one always there for him, the one he views as a parental figure. But this entire situation is so painful for him too and the other angels' mocking is just cruel. Once at a breaking point Luke would consider falling too, to be with Simeon again, but he tells him he shouldn't. Simeon tells him that they need an angel up there advocating for everything Diavolo is trying to do, the peace and alliance between the three realms. Things have gotten better but Simeon's situation is proof it's not as good as it needs to be, so Luke needs to continue the work he did up there. Only reluctantly Luke agrees, quietly mumbling a "but i'll always look up to you, okay?" before leaving for the night.

[sastielsfandom]

Can The World Stop For A Small Moment?

The radio was played low, Sam had no clue what was playing, Castiel messed with the channels until he found a song he liked. It's remained on that station since then and Sam only knew two of the songs so far.

He didn't mind though, Castiel seemed content, listening to each song, taking them in, most likely memorizing them.

Sam just drove them through, they were far from the bunker right now, took a case that was a day, nearly two, away. Castiel insisted on them checking it out, it was a poltergeist that nearly maimed Castiel.

Oddly, it didn't ruin Castiel's cheery state, it may have increased it. Something about humanity and near death experiences that Sam didn't quite understand despite the ex-angel's explanations.

In his mind, Sam was calculating the route, if Cas sleeps for a bit, Sam could keep driving and they could switch. If they are really trying to make it back so soon, if not... There's motels coming up that he's sure they could manage to secure.

"Sam?" Castiel asked, bringing Sam back from his mind.

Out of autopilot mode.

It's a good thing cars were sparce, "Yeah, Cas?"

"Can we stop for a little while?" Castiel asked, wearing a hopeful look that Sam couldn't crush.

"For the night?" Sam asked, they weren't that far from running into a motel of some sort, long car rides aren't for everyone. Sam knows that better than most, it truly isn't too much to stop for the night.

Castiel shook his head and looked out the window, "To see the stars."

"Ugh, yeah," Sam said, frowning as he tried to spot some, he tilted his head and looked for any cars, finding none, "actually, hold on."

Turning the car into the next lane and off the road, going further away from the upcoming town.

"I thought cars remained on the road."

"It's better for them," Sam admitted, "but we can take a detour, it's easier to see the stars away from all the lights."

-------------------------------------------------------

After a bit of driving, they found a spot where they could see the sky clearly. Sam got out of the car, Castiel followed his lead. They sat outside on the car, looking up, letting the car rest as they did.

"Thank you, Sam," Cas said, "It may seem silly to ask to see them when I've been here practically as long as they've stood... But..."

"It's different now?" Sam asked, "With your new perspective of life?"

"Yes, it is." Castiel said, looking at Sam, ignoring the redness that ran through his face, "A lot of things are."

Sam thought that was an understatement, being human is no easy feat, especially being thrown into it like Castiel was.

He looked over at his friend and shook his head, taking off his coat, "Here, take this, you shivering is making me shiver."

"What about you?" Castiel asked, accepting the coat.

Sam waved him off, "I'm wearing enough layers to keep warm, I'm okay."

Castiel put it on and held it close to him, a new wave of emotion capturing him, a thing that tended to happen around Sam. Every act of kindness, any friendly gesture caught Castiel off guard. In a way too difficult to understand or explain.

Castiel snuggled into the coat with a sigh, "As much as I miss being an angel, I'm glad I got to see life the same way you do."

"Really?" Sam asked, he's seen the damage it's done to his friend. The nightmares, the scars, the vulnerability that was never there before. He can't imagine how Castiel has such a good attitude towards it.

Castiel nodded, "Yes, for many reasons, but I've discovered a new respect for your faith," Castiel said, "it's so easy to lose hope as a human."

He looked at the stars that twinkled above them and reached a hand up, "But there's moments like this where you can pause, and everything seems possible..." He had to hold onto them when he had no one, "but those moments fade. Yet, you still have so much hope."

"Well," Sam said, "what else do I have if I don't have hope?"

"I don't know." Castiel wondered, he feels like there's a lot more to Sam than his faith but words failed him to explain it to the hunter.

Instead, they fell into silence as they looked up, watching the lively sky. Letting their thoughts fade away, their worries put on hold as the sky grabbed their attention for a moment.

It was a good night to wish for hope, and so Castiel did. And maybe that's how Castiel ended up holding Sam's hand in the cold, and only broke away when they entered the car. Which quickly was rejoined once they were both settled.

Or maybe that was from Sam's prayer for courage to the stars. Knowing Castiel could slip through his fingers at a moments notice now, and he didn't want to live with regrets.

Maybe it was a combination of the two. All I know is when they laid their heads to rest, they only needed one bed.

[lichfucker]

yesterday (march 22) was the one-year anniversary of oops all dwarves' first session.

this is the first campaign I've ever gmed. I've run one- and two-shots aplenty, but this game is the first that's endured. it wasn't easy to get to that place; oops all dwarves saw a couple different iterations before it settled here, in this world, in this system, with these players, with these characters. with this gm.

besides a two-shot I ran for the reforged crew, I was the only one of us who had ever played savage worlds before. we were all far more familiar with 5e, but that system didn't work for us, for what we wanted from this game. did I think savage worlds was the perfect system? not necessarily. but it's the one I was most comfortable running. I didn't want to spend months of my life trying and failing to find something better. I was sick of waiting for someone to hand me the campaign.

in all things I do, and in dwarves particularly (with regard to starting the campaign at all), there's an element of "if you want it done right, you have to do it yourself." but I haven't done it myself. the best of this game is not what I have done myself. I sat down with my players in january of 2022 and said, "here's a homebrew world I've been working on since 2017. I know everything about one corner of one continent. let's start somewhere I know nothing about." and we built the city of Reverie, its geography, its culture, three thousand years of its history. my players made the decisions that I keep coming back to, again and again, whenever I need the world to feel alive. and I always need the world to feel alive.

what could have been a silly game of crime and poor impulse control and delayed adolescence and instant gratification has instead become a story about self-determination, about independence and interdependence, about personhood. about identity. about community. about devotion. about love.

maybe you're Fix (it/its, played by @kingfisherkink), a twelve-foot robot built during the technological renaissance of the 3300s when artificial intelligence was discovered. maybe you were built to serve as an assistant to some rich entitled bastard. maybe your ownership was passed down through the family for two hundred years until the world finally understood that robots are people. maybe you lived through the liberation movement, and changed your name, and set up a mechanical/medical clinic in the small robot enclave the city carved out for you. maybe time has passed. maybe you've been around for five hundred years, now, and you're getting old, and your systems don't work as well as they used to, and sometimes your joints get rusty and sometimes the cuckoo clock in your chest won't stop ringing and sometimes your voice box shorts out. maybe you're a creature of faith. maybe you worship the god of community and protection and the equality of all living things, and maybe you worship as well the god of choice and privacy and healing. maybe you find an innocuous but sacred artifact in the midst of some petty crime, and it fulfills you, so you keep it in a place both hidden and reverent. maybe you want to have children. maybe you start to build them in secret, because making new robots has been illegal since 3561 on the grounds of it being unethical. maybe you plan to name them Change and Kind, in the hopes they will embrace those ideals. maybe you find a friend in some teenager who has nowhere else to go, and you have no idea the limits of what you would do to protect them. maybe it frightens you that you don't know. maybe you kill someone you'd been trying not to harm, despite how much you hated him. maybe you have to tell your friend, "I'm sorry, I can't do that for you, even if it would save your life." maybe you find out that the artifact you kept would have gotten someone else out of a fatal situation. maybe you have a one-sided rivalry with some other robot doctor, because everyone mistakenly believes it's better than you. maybe you're arrogant and selfish. maybe your altruism has always been arrogant and selfish. maybe you give up every last cent you have to pay the ransom of someone who doesn't like you and will never trust you. maybe you hope Change and Kind will be both of those things without exception, without hypocrisy.

maybe you're Archie (they/them, played by @travismatagot), a human kid on your own for the first time. maybe you were raised in a secret government facility and trained to commit espionage. maybe you don't have any memories from before they took you— maybe you were just too young, or maybe the experimentation and manipulation and conditioning they put you through to give you psionic powers got rid of the memories for you. maybe you were always a bit of an underachiever. maybe you turned eighteen and graduated and your handlers send you south to a new city on a new continent so you can do your work. maybe when faced with the freedom and choice and fear of being utterly on your own for the first time, you freeze, and you don't get off the boat, and it keeps moving, and you wind up in Reverie. maybe you wind up sleeping in a hammock in a mechanic's shop in the robot district. maybe you get swindled a little bit by a pair of tempestuous twins. maybe you start growing your hair back out to cover some of the magical tattoos on your skull, though you'll never be able to mask the tattoos on your face. maybe every time you look in the mirror for your entire life you'll see the evidence of the person you were supposed to be. maybe you learn to knit and make the ugliest vest your new friends have ever seen. maybe you run into someone from home— one of your peers from the program who always hated you, and she's advanced in the ranks, and she threatens to rat you out, and she doesn't understand how you can be so ungrateful for everything your superiors did to make you special. maybe you leave a to-go box full of tapas where you know she'll find it. maybe you do that a lot. maybe she asks for your help assassinating a well-known political figure, and maybe you say yes. maybe you've been saying yes to everything lately. maybe you've been saying yes a little too much. maybe you don't know what you like and what you want, so you might as well try everything and have everything and do everything. maybe you get some more magical tattoos even though you thought you wouldn't. maybe you go to a punk show to meet people your age but you don't talk to anyone. maybe you can read minds. maybe you never do. maybe you're consciously rejecting your training, or maybe you just forget about it. maybe you know people can be awful and cruel— you were raised by the awful and cruel to be awful and cruel— but maybe people have also been nice to you here. maybe you're waiting for the consequences to come. maybe there's a part of you wondering if they ever will.

maybe you're Brontide (he/him, played by @keplercryptids), a dwarf/air genasi grifter with lightning in your blood and glitter on your face. maybe you think that that description is wrong, because it doesn't mention your twin sister, and there is no accurate description of you that does not include her, because there is no you to describe without her. maybe you have never been anything but her hands. maybe you were born to be her scapegoat. maybe you can weather any amount of vitriol and pain so long as it means she gets away clean. maybe you know exactly what to say to gain anyone's adoration and forgiveness. maybe you apologize every day of your life, and never once feel sorry. maybe you seek out any spotlight. maybe you are loud and bombastic because if they're all going to be watching you anyway then you might as well give them a show, and you might as well learn to revel in it. maybe using your magic gives you migraines. maybe they're getting worse. maybe you endure it anyway. maybe you're good for nothing else. maybe you're visited in a dream by a witch who tells you that your sister's mind is her own and yours belongs to her, too, and maybe you're supposed to feel offended, but you don't. maybe that's good and right and correct. maybe you don't want to have your own mind. maybe you don't understand why you would want anything that couldn't be hers. maybe you would do anything for her. maybe she would do anything for herself, and for you by association. maybe people keep telling you there's a difference. maybe you don't care. maybe your sister lies to you. maybe she's never done that before, at least, not to your knowledge. maybe you beg and plead and cry for her not to do something reckless and stupid— she's the one who thinks, after all, who leaves you to be reckless and stupid in her absence— and maybe she doesn't relent until you fall apart. and maybe she does it anyway, and maybe you can't stop her, and maybe you're left utterly alone until you can cash in every favor imaginable, indebt yourself to everyone you know. maybe you even tell them something true. maybe they all help without hesitation. maybe that's never happened before, either. maybe now you feel beholden to the promises you've made. maybe your life is full of new things now. maybe your sister feels entitled to the aid, feels like she's earned every penny, insists you do the same. maybe you disagree. maybe for the first time in your life you disagree. maybe it's different this time. maybe you try to tell her that you were an empty husk without her, and all these people made the world right again by putting you back in her pocket, and surely they deserve some recompense for that. maybe she says they did it for her. maybe you say they did it for you, and for her by association. maybe you tell her there's a difference. maybe she doesn't care. maybe you don't know why you do.

maybe you're me, the luckiest gm, with the most wonderful party who meet every session with enthusiasm and curiosity and delight, so invested and so inspiring. maybe you're amazed a year has gone by so quickly. maybe your heart is full of light and possibility.

happy dwarfiversary. I cannot wait for the next one.

[picnokinesis]

hello!! :D I asked for a spoilerless preview of 13s seasons a while back on anon, and your answer really got me excited to finish my rewatch!! took me a while because uni doesn't allow for binging the way high school used to, but I just finished season 12 the other day! I've enjoyed chibnall's era more and more the further I got (season 11 still definitely isn't anywhere near my favorite, but liked it a LOT more than I did on my first watch, knowing the foundations it was laying), and I LOVED the first episode of season 13! SO much! I haven't gotten further but I really wanted you to know haha, it's fun, it's exciting, it's got awesome new characters -- I so wish chibnall had gotten into the groove a little sooner, because this is exactly what I hoped his era to be! imagine if we could have gotten 3 full seasons on the same level... ahhhh I'm super excited to watch the rest! especially since several of the episodes you mentioned were your favorites are from season 13 -- and the first episode isn't even one of them!

Ahhhh oh my days hi hi hi!! I am SO so happy that you've enjoyed s12 so much! I think s12 honestly might be one of my favourite seasons of doctor who (although there are a lot of excellent contenders), simply because it just inspired me so much. There's so much to dig into. And yesss I think s11 works a lot better in context of the rest of it, which is super interesting. Actually, honestly, it all works SO nicely as a whole unit, which is super satisfying - to me, at least - but I suppose that hampered it when everything first aired, because we didn't have the whole picture (but also, that is how tv works sometimes ksksk - there were and are a LOT of bad faith viewings of this era, and it makes me so sad because I know that the moment you dig into it you start to realise just how rich this era has been). But yknow, what you say about s11 is interesting, because I do know a lot of people who really love it exactly as it is and always have - there are quite a number of people who got into Doctor Who because of s11, so I think, whilst there are things I don't like about it, I reckon Chibnall did approach it in a particular way with a particular intent - and it worked for some people, but less for others. And like, in a similar vein, I've actually found myself defending Moffatt of all people lately, despite the fact that I really don't enjoy like, two of his seasons, as well as a lot of things that he tends to do. But it's because I think like....hm, I guess I've lately found it really helpful to remember that all the writers are just humans who are putting stories and art out into the world that they want to create, and are sharing it with us - it's never going to be perfect, despite how much we want it to be. And there's always something of value in each era, right? Each of the main showrunners we've had since 2005 have had strengths and weaknesses, and there's something about each era that I absolutely adore. That said, there's definitely value in expecting better in certain degrees - but then you get people making hour long videos about how the show sucks now and I get so tired skskks

BUT YEAH sorry for rambling, your ask just got me thinking thoughts - much more importantly, you've got THE REST OF FLUX TO WATCH ahhhHHH have FUN!! War of the Sontarans is next and oh my daaaaays i love that episode SO much (I literally said as much earlier today and my coworker was like 'yes taka i know you love that episode' SKKSKSKSKSK SO. YKNOW) but honestly I just adore Flux. It's got such classic who vibes - I've started watching some classic lately and it's so funny seeing what inspired a lot of the structure/style of Flux (like the STUPID CLIFFHANGERS oh my days we need MORE of those). So I really hope you enjoy the rest - and the specials too!! Eve of the Daleks and The Power of the Doctor are soooooo much fun :D Please feel free to let me know what you think when you've watched it all, if you'd like to! I'd love to hear your thoughts/what your favourite episodes of thirteen's era as a whole have been! <3

[station-aspenville]

Chapter 3.

I haven’t heard from Alistair for the past week. Despite that, I still have been checking the radio everyday since the last broadcast, in hopes of hearing his voice. I did so partly out of boredom, and partly because I’ve begun to worry about his well being. It wasn’t my conscious attempt at caring about him; after all, he’s nothing more than some kid I've never even seen in my whole life. Yet, the warm “Hello, Aspenville!”, I heard this evening, came as a relief.

- I feel like I owe you an apology for my absence. - said the boy on the other side of the radio - The past week didn’t offer us any new information worth sharing with you, therefore I saw no point in even starting an audition. If I’m being honest, I began to question the very point of what I’m doing.

Alistair seems to still take himself way too seriously. This poor boy is too blinded by his own hopes and delusions to see that what he’s doing is nothing more than playing a game. He seems to believe that the faith of Aspenville lies in his hands. Do you really think you can save the world, Alistair?

Or perhaps I’m actually the one in the wrong…

- Luckily - the boy continued - I’m not coming to you empty handed today. What I managed to accomplish, in the past couple of days, may not be a lot, and I can’t blame you if you find it rather underwhelming, but I’m proud to say that it surely gives us hope for the future. Let me tell you about everything that happened lately:

I’ve spent the past week searching for answers. Day and night, I’ve been focused on one thing and one thing only - the truth. It wasn’t an easy search. I managed to find my dad’s phone book, containing the full list of numbers belonging to his former researchers. I have to admit, looking through my dad’s belongings after the late events wasn’t a pleasant experience. I try not to think about my parents. Looking back and getting stuck in the past would bring no good to my research, in fact, it would slow it down. After all, I’ve been told multiple times to always value reason over emotions.

I made multiple calls over the past week. Both to the research centre and the individual researchers themselves. It didn't take me too much time to realize that contacting the right people isn’t nearly as difficult as getting them to actually hear me out. Most of them dismissed my calls right away, the few who didn’t thought I’m crazy and hung up after realizing that they’re talking to a 17 year old. Perhaps I was crazy. Perhaps I still am. Perhaps me trying to find a way out of our current situation is actually a sign of pure insanity. None of that mattered to me. As long as I can help someone with my actions, I couldn’t care less. 

Being viewed as a particularly immature teenager, who has too much time on his hands, by the very people who I considered to be my only hope wasn’t helpful. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I smiled purely for the sake of not raising concerns, and for that matter, I couldn’t even cry. Just laugh; laugh at the absurdity of this all. The world is absurd, the calamity (the public named it that, I never liked this term) and for all of it, my research is absurd. I questioned everything. I doubted myself. I became paranoid and then so very tired. And then a miracle happened. When I reached my lowest, I found what I was searching for. I finally found the truth - a young researcher by the name of Virgil Montgomery.

- I would love to eventually get Dr. Montgomery to talk with me on this program, however, from what I’ve noticed, he’s a rather shy person, and I don’t want to put pressure on him - Alistair continued - For now, I’m going to share with you the details of our research via radio, and we’ll see what future brings us.

He sounded ecstatic, I could just imagine how much all of this meant to him. After all, despite all the difficulties he had encountered, he managed to find someone just as passionate as him. Or perhaps just as insane. I’ve begun to question whether his research was actually child’s play, as I initially thought.

- Oh listeners - the enthusiastic voice spoke again - you have no idea how wonderful it feels! To finally have someone listen to what you have to say… I used to believe that credibility isn’t for me. Not right now, at least. I used to think that you gain a voice once you enter adulthood. Before that you can listen to what the elders have to say and obey them quietly. You may question what they say, but you’ll never be able to voice your concerns. It’s just like trying to scream under the water - no one can hear you. Since drowning is silent, without a solid voice to take a lead, this entire town is doomed to go down, and then - maybe the entire world. If Virgil Montgomery is the brain willing to help humanity overcome this crisis, I want to be the voice giving him a means to do so. As far as I know, he also knows how terrible it feels to be looked down on and ignored because of age or an uncommon approach to the problem. Well, it’s all in the past now. Isn’t it beautiful how both of us can help each other in helping the world?

I understood where Alistair’s excitement came from. Having an authority figure listen to what you have to say may feel like a blessing at his age. However something about all of this felt rather bittersweet.

Prioritizing his research, no matter how important wouldn’t it be to him, over his own emotional well being is something I can never consider admirable. Avoiding what brings him anguish, instead of trying to cope with it, seems like a rather foolish choice, one that might end in tragedy at that.

- I can’t say that I agree with every idea proposed by Dr. Montgomery - Alistair continued - in fact, we tend to disagree on quite a lot of matters. For example, Dr. Montgomery is very much in favour of the sunflowers theory, the one claiming that Strangers tend to be drawn to sunflowers, which I’m very much against. He claims that based on our current research this is the most logical explanation, however something about it just doesn’t sit right with me. I can’t even say why, it just feels terribly wrong…

Alistair seemed to get rather upset whenever the topic of sunflowers was brought up. It wasn’t difficult to understand why. With how much meaning those flowers held in his life, it was reasonable for him to get upset whenever his view of them as a symbol of joy and childlike hope was challenged. If he wants to actually contribute to finding a scientific explanation of the current situation, he would eventually have to let go of this nostalgia. I think it’s clear to see that Alistair tries to approach every problem with sheer cold logic, the same way as the people he admired growing up did, however he tends to get lost in his emotions while doing so. There’s nothing shameful about being a sensitive person, yet in his position this dissonance should be considered a fatal character flaw.

- During our last talk Dr. Montgomery mentioned working on some big theory, something that might possibly entirely change our perception of this situation. I don’t know about you, listeners, but I’m very excited to hear what he had been up to. I’ll make sure to keep you updated with every new information I receive. Both of us share the belief that in order for this program to be a trustworthy source of information we can’t hide anything from its audience, therefore I’m going to be absolutely transparent about our research. 

I’ve noticed the sun beginning to set, and at that moment it occurred to me that I don’t actually want the broadcast to end. I missed Alistair’s voice and I didn’t want to wait another week to hear from him again; especially considering that the news he’ll have to deliver likely won’t be of pleasant nature.

- On a different note, I decided to work on making the radio station’s atmosphere more welcoming, since it doesn’t seem like we’ll be leaving it anytime soon. The small garden in the building’s backyard looks nothing like the one from my childhood; aside from a few sunflowers here and there - which as you already know are nothing uncommon around this area - it feels rather empty and neglected. I want to change it. Not only would it help to make this place feel more like home to both Neil and myself, gardening would aid me to occasionally focus on something else than our current situation. Who knows, perhaps I’ll even be able to harvest some fruit and vegetables as a food supply. This morning I found a package of narcissus seeds while looking around the station building. Since it’s early November, they most likely wouldn’t bloom if I planted them now, but I’ll make sure to do so as soon as their season starts. I was never a huge fan of those flowers, however now I think I’m beginning to like them.

Hearing Alistair get excited about flowers right after discussing his research on beings possibly serving as a threat to humanity, felt oddly innocent; almost in an unsettling way.

- Anyway - he went on - I feel like I’ve begun to ramble again. Goodnight, listeners, hopefully we’ll get to hear from each other again soon enough!

Sleep well, Alistair.

[fratresdei]

Nonreligious Thoughts on Hope

Content Warning: mental illness, religious upbringing, hopelessness

When I was in the thick of my religious upbringing, I remember feeling very apathetic about hope. It felt like a "pie in the sky" carrot dangled in front of me; a cheap response to the problem of suffering. I felt like the god of my Evangelical Protestant education was saying, "I know I hold all of the cards, and I could either fix everything now or show you the grand plan that will make all of the universe's hardships make complete sense, but I will do neither of those things. I will, however, give you a brain developed enough that you will want both of those things. But here's...um, hope! Go ahead and hope your little heart out that I've got everything under control. Those systemic forms of oppression that could be fixed by both human action and divine intervention? Sprinkle some hope on it! Confronting the entirely excruciating and life-altering reality of death and grief? Fingers crossed it'll feel better after you're dead! Good luck, love you, mean it girlfriend *kiss kiss*!" As someone who neither had the strength of faith to find comfort in this attitude nor the ability to make peace with the problem of evil (more on this in the 1st link in the comments), I was never particularly moved by hope.

1 Corinthians 13, while an unmitigated banger, did not do much to sway me. In verse 13 it is written, "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." Steeped in Evangelical Protestant doctrine, I understood the importance of faith and love. Faith was the magic word you had to utter in order to gain access to the exclusive heaven club, and love felt like an inherently worthwhile enterprise. Hope though? Hope seemed like a less certain version of faith, but perhaps a more honest one. Faith seemed like the surer face one would wear to address the public. If your factory was on fire, and you said to your employees, "We have faith that this will never happen again," that hits differently than, "We hope this doesn't happen again." Faith felt like a more transcendent, spiritual knowing, and hope felt like a gentle consolation. And in Evangelical Protestant Land, calling your spiritual practice a mere consolation and not Truth™ is an unforgivable sin.

As was true about many aspects of Christianity, I was only able to appreciate the value of hope once I had some distance from Christianity. So, for your enjoyment, I have compiled my nonreligious thoughts on hope. I welcome your disagreement.

What is Hope?

Biological Survival. Hope is the drive that keeps a species alive. It is our sustained push to continue being, despite our undulating moods. Cheetahs have hope that they will catch prey (and the prey has hope that it can escape or hide). Parents have hope that they can successfully have and raise a child. Sunflowers have hope that if they face the sun they will receive nourishment. I have hope that if I eat lunch it will give me energy. When I experience symptoms of mental illness, I have hope that I will eventually feel better. Without the pressure of an overarching ontological narrative, it can be easier to see and receive hope as a morally-neutral tool that serves a function. This understanding of hope is comparable to that of desire found in the book of Genesis and as understood by Jesuit theology (more on this in the 2nd link in the comments).

Sometimes Rooted in Capital "B" Belief, but Not Necessarily. Another freedom of a nonreligious approach to hope is that you get to choose what is helpful and discard what is not. In certain belief systems, wherein believing the correct things is more important than virtuous outcomes, hope is nonnegotiable. Moving into a more religiously-nebulous space, however, allows for the freedom to choose between what I will call Absolute Beliefs and functional beliefs. With an Absolute Belief, whatever interaction you have with that belief must be based in the conviction that it is definitely true, and any thought to the contrary dismantles the whole thing. With functional beliefs, there is more room to look at a belief and openly say to it, "Believing in you is helpful and serves a purpose, and if you end up not being true, the benefits will still be there, and that is enough."

Hope Can Hurt. Hope can fuel our survival, and survival can pave the way for our flourishing. However, when the object of our hope is proven false or futile, it can be disastrous. While hope can serve a function whether or not the specific hope is realized, this is not always the case. This frequently occurs in the form of a faith crisis, broken trust, disillusionment with a government, organization, community, cultural norm, or even yourself. When our hope eggs are placed all in one basket (often through no fault of our own), and these things fail us, the results can be devastating.

An Idea for Functional Hope. So if you take a functional approach to hope, how do you cultivate hope in a way that feels genuine? In the face of the heat death of the universe, what good does hope do? Is hopefulness a neutral trait or a virtue? Does maintaining hope cultivate individual and communal morality, or does it just make coping with oblivion easier? Perhaps the key to finding a sustainable object of hope is to find an amendable object of hope. Finding an amendable object of hope could mean finding an object of hope that you respect enough to let it be what it is without forcing it to become something that it is not. This can be tricky for those of us that are used to Absolute objects of Hope, because if we cannot trust our hope object to remain unchanging, how do we have hope in it? And if all our objects of hope are constructed, does this not quickly plunge us into nihilism? Maybe. But even nihilism makes space for joy and life-affirming, lovingly-created meaning. Even hope. So selecting in what to have hope could be just as--if not more--important as having hope at all. But also maybe not.

When Hope is Not Necessary. If there is value in having a living, breathing hope that is open to change and recalibration, perhaps there is value in having more things in which to have hope besides, well, hope. Humanist author Julian Baggini writes, "...when there’s nothing to hope for, there is often nonetheless something to celebrate. And when there’s little or nothing to celebrate, there is something to respect. Sometimes hope just isn’t the thing we should be looking for, but that does not mean in its place has to come despair."

So I think hope is always available to us. And if not, there's still hope.

Thank you for chewing on this with me. I'd love to hear your thoughts on hope in the comments. If you're interested in exploring these questions in a spiritual direction context, schedule a free session through the link in bio. What's spiritual direction? Find out at the 3rd link in the comments.

[numetaljackdog]

what i'm listening to 3/2024

spot.//yt

Limp Bizkit - Pollution: got this played on my local radio station bc i got connections

DC Talk - Jesus Freak: i have become OBSESSED with this christian rap rock (kind of) band. couldn't explain it very well myself but i think they're really fun and super silly. i've been listening to this particular song for quite some time now but it's only recently that my full obsession has developed and i've been getting other people roped into it too..... i'm just spreading the good word 😁

Whitechapel - The Saw Is the Law: had this one stuck in my head something FIERCE these past few weeks. just that crusher chorus line is so fucking good, I never was a huge whitechapel fan but they go hard when the mood is right. played it at work and everything

The Smiths - Bigmouth Strikes Again: cumming all over myself i love the riff and the melodies and there are some real good lines despite very few lyrics overall... admittedly that squeaky chipmunk harmony is pretty goofy but when the rest of it is so good who even care.

Faith No More - Midlife Crisis: i like this one more and more every time i hear it. a friend of mine introduced me to this and it's been stuck in my head relentlessly ever since. also definitely goofy as fuck but i love the kinda hardcore-type vocals mike patton throws into the verses, especially in the live version and the big swelling bridge. a song like this makes me get why people talk about faith no more as "proto-nu metal" or whatever..... fred durst would do some shit like this <3 also got this played on the radio station

Butthole Surfers - Cough Syrup: i don't like this band as much as i wish i did, though i've certainly got plenty more listening to do. def some stupid lyrics here bc it's the butthole surfers but i actually really really like "i can't talk so i guess i got nothing to say." something about that one

Third Eye Blind - Jumper: it's back! i think i've expended all the words i have about this already but man what a good little pop song

Breaking Benjamin - Skin: great example of how enjoying breaking benjamin is more about hearing the loud guitars and the unique syllabic experience of ben's weird as hell enunciation than it is about anything original or lyrical. what the hell is this song about i don't know. but it bangeth mightily. this also stands to represent that i and mine have been listening to a fuckton of bb lately

Elliott Smith - Cupids Trick: a dear friend of mine has put me on that elliott smith shit fairly recently and i think this is my fav from either/or... the riff so good and it's catchy and has a really dark punchy sound compared to the rest of the record (which is also real good! but just different)

Gorillaz - Cracker Island: heard this on the radio a ways back and instantly came all over myself and said "omg who is this is this the new sound of the summer????" and then looked it up and saw that it was a band i already know that's been around for decades ^_^ but it's just a banger and they found one good hook and punched it up to 11!!

Kittie - Eyes Wide Open: KITTIE BACK???? and with a rager O_O <me when my eyes are wide open. lol. not much further commentary here i'm just excited for the new record and i hope it's good and not bad

Enon - Window Display: my experience continues of getting into this band at the pace of a tortoise or perhaps a snail. p sure this is like the biggest song from them and. it good! they just have a tastey sound and i like the vocalist's delivery

Lamb Of God - Redneck: been on some metalcore shit too and like groove metal and shit and it hardly gets better than lamb of god. i feel like i haven't often properly appreciated them but what a consistently banger band. and this one just has some cool catchy parts that have been in my head since like high school. JUST! ONE! TIME!!!!!

Insane Clown Posse - Halls Of Illusions: my friends and i have been indulging in what we're calling "fucked up friday" which sometimes includes icp as a soundtrack. still want to listen to the full album with people at some point. but anyway i never took too too much notice of this track until a friend put it on and i realized how good it is. and frankly kind of saw-coded w it

Drowning Pool - Tear Away: kind of not great but the chorus glued itself to me. sort of the death toll of nu metal giving in to the way of the post-grunge ballad but man this vocalist was damn solid!

Victoria Monét - On My Mama: proof that i haven't completely exited the pop listening sphere. i still got todd. go watch the top ten of 2023 for a review

Rai Panesar - I Don't Give a Shet (IDGAS): okay this is a stupid joke song. i think. but i like to imagine it's sincere. like i like to imagine the dude that made this thought it was actually pretty cool and had fun making it. i'm scared to find anything else out about him bc it might ruin this hope that i have

Theory of a Deadman - Rx (Medicate): SUCKS. but kind of fascinating. how the fuck did theory have a hit in like 2017 or whenever this came out. by making a hip hop country rock song about doing drugs. oh okay

The Revivalists - Wish I Knew You: adding this alongside cigarette daydream in the canon of "indie band has relentlessly catchy pop hit that i listen to a bunch and attach memories to but actually think kind of sucks ass." i heard this in a restaurant a while back and went omg it's crazy by gnarls barkley i love crazy by gnarls barkley despite not really having very strong feelings about crazy by gnarls barkley but well these are the things we think to ourselves. so i kept waiting for the part where he goes does that make me craaaaazayyyyyy.... but it never came!!!! every chorus would just end on nothing and then move on to the next verse. i got edged by this song until almost the very end where i finally figured out what song it actually was and then got that stuck in my head but i'm still bitter! motherfucker! and also i don't like their band name. what exactly are you reviving 🤨

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

You are by far one of the best writers I've seen on the site. Especially with The Chosen. I was really hesitant to read any fanfiction on it, since I wasn't sure if that would be appropriate, but reading your made me feel so much better. You keep it so accurate and respectful, it's truly wonderful. Now, I'm obsessed with your writings and desperate for more! I'm so glad you have taken to writing for this TV series, and I'm very grateful you've done it is such a great way.

I know your requests are closed right now, but when you are open I have two-three ready to go. Until then, I'll read what you put out.

Additionally, I wanted to say that I REALLY loved the John the Baptist angst one, I wish that went on forever and I got so many more moments and details. I normally don't like angst without a happy ending, but I loved this fic. I think it's because it wasn't an unhappy/sad ending. Not really. There was still love and hope and the knowledge that what they get and where they will end up will be greater than what the could have on earth. If you do feel inclined, I would love to encourage you to expand on this. What would the reaction be to his death, what happens to her after that? What does she do while he is away? Did they ever confess their love? What was going on before Jesus came to be Baptized? So many thoughts and questions on it.

Anyway, once again I would like to say amazing work and I look forward to seeing what else you put out. Thank you!

Sincerely,

Your number one fan

Oh dear friend, your comment brings tears to my eyes ❤️ Thank you so much for your sweet words, they mean so much!

John the Baptiser has so much potential fic-wise. Since I love writing angst, the tragedy in his story as well as the hope that constantly shines through in spite of it all makes him one of my favourites. At the moment, I have a one-shot in my request list with some domestic fluff for him. However, there is so much that can be done. I feel like (Y/n) would be a very patient significant other, very aware that his calling always goes before their personal relationship, so she'd definitely be a woman of great faith and would get along with Jesus as well. (Y/n) would be friends with both of them during their childhood and Elizabeth woudl always tease her son about his crush on you, because John definitely had one.

Their relationship would be so wholesome regardless if they ever confessed to one another or not. If they do indeed confess, they would quickly reach a mutual understanding of the compromises they'd have to make on their earthly relationship in favour of John's calling.

(Y/n) would support him in his ministry as much as she could. Even if this includes being worried sick when he disappears off the face of the Earth every so often. After all, despite their understanding, she would be concerned nevertheless, for John has a tendency to upset important people.

Quality time between the two would be unrushed. In her presence all his worries and tension just fade away. She'd cook him a decent meal since he needs these nutrients, draw him a warm bath and once relaxed, they'd chat about everything that is going on in their lives.

When John heads for Herod's court, they are both aware that there may be no way back now whilst saying goodbye, but both of them hold onto their Hope.

After John gets arrested, (Y/n) goes with Andrew to visit Machaerus, where John tells her that God will always have the upper hand no matter what happens. He says she should not be anxious about him, because God will always be there.

The followers of John who visit Capernaum also have a message for (Y/n): A repetition of what he had said in Machaerus, as well as a goodbye. She gets an inkling that it might be the final message John will ever send her.

And once (Y/n) finds out he's dead? Oh, she'll be inconsolable but find comfort with Jesus. I can totally imagine them sharing all of their memories about John with each other, and Jesus would be so patient and understanding with that bittersweet pain. Smiling and crying at the same time, reminiscing on the past and hopeful for the future. I am aiming to open the requests again in a month from now, and you're allowed to send in as many as you want! ��

God bless! 🙏

[sapphire-weapon]

Hey, I'm the original 25 y/o anon and respectfully, I feel that you may have misunderstood my ask. The comparison to narcissism is a bit uncalled for, though maybe that wasn't your intention. I don't 100% agree with everything you've said, but I do understand where you've come from. I do still firmly believe that no, there is no official timeline. That's silly in my eyes. Not everyone is handed the same deck with the same privileges, experiences and opportunities. Everybody also faces curveballs too and many of them. Does that mean that they can't achieve happiness and make the best of themselves, despite arriving later to things compared to their more privileged peers? No, of course not. I've done the work and proven that to myself this year. Despite the poverty and years of trauma, I'm finally going to college to study something I'm deeply passionate about and learning to value myself and seek out healthier relationships. I'm my own evidence to prove that life doesn't have to become jaded and meaningless, just because age may be unconventional accoridng to stereotypes and capitalism. With respect, I'm sure you weren't intending to invalidate others nor throw out insults! I'm sorry to hear about your friend and her issues with having children. That's a very unfortunate thing to happen to her and I hope she finds fulfilment elsewhere if necessary, I just wanted to clear up any misunderstandings if there were any and I wish you a wonderful weekend. I really enjoy your blog and RE takes + information! Thanks for taking so much time to answer questions for newer fans.

Also, just to add, I don't accept being painted as naive. My life has been LONG lol and I've learned a lot the hard way. I am an experienced adult, but I may have wrongly misinterpreted you too! No hard feelings at all, just clearing the air and I hope I haven't accidentally brought negativity to you or your ask box, it wasn't my intention. Just wanted to share my new found lease on life, which I think everyone is deserving of.

So, just as like a blanket statement: if I'm responding to an ask, I'm only directly addressing the asker. My "it's narcissistic" comment wasn't meant to retroactively apply to you -- only to the person who left the ask implying that having a worldview that's anything other than "you can do anything at any point" is pessimistic.

In truth, I don't know why you sent the original ask or what you were responding to, because I've long since made peace with where I'm at in life and the opportunities I've missed, which is why I only talked about the saying in a general sense instead of having a more pointed conversation.

The "no official timeline" thing is something that I think is good to have in the back of your mind when you're looking in retrospect/reflecting on your life. It's not a good thing to carry around with you pre-emptively. "So you got to shit later than society thinks is normal lmao w/e who cares, you did the thing and that's what matters" is way different from "You don't have to do this right now, fuck it, there's no official timeline" -- and the latter is the mindset that I was addressing. It does encourage learned helplessness by reinforcing someone's avoidant tendencies. That's why I don't like people reaching for that as a platitude by default.

And that's also why I made it a point to say I was using a generalized, ubiquitous "you" in my response to your original ask -- because I don't know your story, so I wasn't responding/can't respond to your situation specifically. All I could do/did do was respond to the impulse to tell someone "don't worry about it, you don't need to do a thing right now."

My response to that will always be: If not now, when? And if there's actual barriers to entry for a thing, my follow-up question will be: Are you making a good faith effort to break through those barriers, or are you just building up a wall of excuses that you can hide behind and feel safe?

I will always encourage someone to act rather than wait, because I have watched too many dreams fall apart and had too many friends get saddled with regret as a result.

I don't really wanna eat up any more real estate on my blog with this stuff, though.

[angelofrainfrogs]

Spend the Night: Ch. 11

~Coauthored by @zeitghest~

Fandom(s): Five Nights At Freddy’s: Security Breach

Description: The familiar melody of Grandfather’s Clock chimes through the echoing halls of the Pizzaplex…

Charlie wakes up in her Puppet’s vessel yet again with one goal in mind: to stop William Afton’s reign of terror for good. She enlists the help of Glamrock Freddy, the emphatic leader of the newest iteration of the Fazbear Band. But there seems to be more to this bear than meets the eye—and the same goes for the mysteriously familiar kid the duo find tinkering with animatronics down in Parts & Service.

With some help from friends new and old, Charlie’s journey into the bowels of the Pizzaplex will unravel mysteries none of them ever expected. 

Rating: T

Read on Ao3

I've been patiently waitin' for someone to take the bait I made a couple of enemies, that's the game that I play… I'll take one bite, one And I'll take one bite, one bite, one

~One Bite by Rockit Music~

It was a trap. Of course it was a trap.

As Monty receded back to the golf course, Gregory dug through his cargo short pockets. Going through the cards and examining them, his eyes widened and he knocked against Freddy’s inside hatch.

“Is he gone? Freddy, come look at these!” he hissed with a sense of urgency in his voice. Maybe it was proof that there was still a little good in Monty, giving them a clue to help them and all. Or it was just another part in his game…

Freddy didn’t have nearly as much faith in Gregory that Monty actually meant to help. The gator’s demeanor distressed him greatly. Gone was the rowdy but endearing bassist who wanted nothing more than to make sure kids had fun with him and felt safe doing so. When Monty was himself, though he might cover the feeling up with loud, distracting laughter, it was clear he hated when children were scared of him. He didn’t ask to be built with such an intimidating stature and teeth, after all.

But now, to willingly—gleefully—invite a child to their probable death at his hands?

It was almost unbearable for Freddy to think about.

Thankfully, Gregory’s voice cut through the bear’s musings before he could get too lost in them. After peering through the window one last time, Freddy opened his stomach hatch and released the boy. “Yes, he is gone for now; you may come out.”

Gregory jumped through the opening, landing into a squat on the ground before righting himself. He held the security passes in hand, flaring them out for Freddy to see the potential “clues” placed upon them.

“I know you don’t want to hear this… But I have to go fight Monty,” Gregory said with the confidence of someone that could’ve easily towered over the gator.

Was he scared? Yes—he was scared shitless.

But he would most certainly die in this place if he didn’t at least try to get the upper hand when he could. With his flashing camera, Gregory was fairly confident in his ability to outsmart Monty... if the gator had been himself, that is. As usual, with the deck stacked against him Gregory would have to wing it and hope for the best.

“Absolutely not.” Freddy’s response was immediate and unquestionable. There was no way he’d put Gregory in that sort of danger. “Let us see what this ‘clue’ might be—then we can make a plan.”

He began looking through their old access cards but couldn’t find anything strange on them—no hidden words or symbols. Blinking in confusion, Freddy added their latest Mazercise Pass to the pile. Then, it hit him.

“Oh—oh no…,” Freddy murmured, eyes wide as he stared at the colorful plastic card. His mental map of the Pizzaplex connected the dots as to why Monty left this pass in place of the one they wanted. His mind worked frantically to process everything as he simply stated: “He wants you up on the catwalks…”

Gregory scoffed. This guy planned on dropping him from all the way up by the ceiling, didn’t he? Not only was it unoriginal, but despite its mediocrity it managed to send a shiver up Gregory’s spine. Monty was just going to watch him splat, and that would be it.

Gregory tried to debate with his stubborn metal guard, telling him: “I’m way faster than Monty! Plus, I got this neat camera! Y'know, unless you have a better idea…”

Though he’d love a taste of revenge for the way the gator jacked up his face earlier, Gregory was hesitant to do it alone. That smashing neon light was no joke, and the shattering glass had sliced easily through his fleshy cheek. The memory only reminded him of the damage Monty was capable of.

“I… Let me think.” Freddy absently ran a paw through Gregory’s hair as a comfort to both of them. As long as the boy was still alive and breathing, they were both okay.

After a moment, Freddy gave a resolute nod—he had a semblance of a plan. It wasn’t airtight and it put Gregory in far more danger than he wanted to risk, but it was the best he could come up with.

“Alright, here is what we shall do,” the bear started, pulling Gregory in to rest against his side as he explained. “There is a vent in Mazercise that leads directly to the catwalks over Monty Golf—hence our new pass.” He picked up said card, then handed it to Gregory to pocket with the rest of them.

“You will need to crawl through the vent on your own,” Freddy continued, hating the idea more as he said it aloud. “However, there is a way for me to reach you—there should be an emergency fire escape ladder attached to the catwalks. Once you find it, unhook it and let it drop to ground level. Then I can climb up and help with Monty.”

No need to mention how painstakingly long it would probably take for the half-ton bear to climb the ladder without risking it snapping under his weight. Freddy was going to make it up there to save Gregory, and that was that.

The hug Freddy imparted to Gregory was certainly comforting for a short while. However, as Freddy went through the hastily thought-out plan, Gregory realized why he’d been given this sudden physical affection. They would be separated for some time, and this separation could lead to injury or even death for the human should things go wrong.

So, he squeezed onto Freddy. He’d pretend to be brave until he actually felt courageous enough to let go. No matter how daunting it seemed, Gregory would convince himself that it was all possible—that everything would work in the end.

After all, they never showed the kid dying in the movies…

Eventually the boy reluctantly let go, offering his fierce protector a shaky smile. “I understand the plan, Freddy. Let’s not waste anymore time.”

The bear nodded, taking his hand once again. Thankfully the Fazcam had a carrying strap so Gregory was able to slip this over his shoulder and let the device rest against his hip. At least he wouldn’t be totally defenseless, though this brought Freddy little comfort. He swore there was something important about Monty and the Fazcams that was relevant to their predicament… but he couldn’t remember this little detail among the bigger issues and strange, pseudo-emotions crowding his mind.

The pair trekked back through Monty Golf, now extra-cautious for the gator. However, Monty seemed to have disappeared—at least from ground level. A glance upwards showed the catwalks that were to be their battleground, though Monty himself was noticeably missing. Still, the mere thought of Gregory being all the way up there without Freddy even for a little bit made the animatronic cringe.

Gregory was able to comfortably rest a hand on the top of the camera, ready to pull it forward and snap at anything that moved. Just because they couldn't hear or see anything yet didn't mean Monty wasn't watching. Past the flood lights outside the attraction, now bathed in the bright neon of the Pizzaplex hallways, the gravity of the situation was falling heavier on Gregory’s shoulders.

Yet, oddly enough, all he wanted to do was prove to Freddy that he'd be okay—even if he wasn't sure he would be in the end.

As they entered Mazercise, a loud voice came over the PA system. Chica's cheerful tone belted a prewritten script, making Gregory jump and grasp the Fazcam. Only when it was held in front of his body like a shield did Gregory realize she wasn't actually there.

“Everything will be alright, superstar,” Freddy soothed, placing a hand on Gregory’s back and gently urging him forward. The more he said it, the more he wished this statement to be true. A moment later they’d walked past the exercise room and into the second part of the attraction.

“The maze is controlled by a panel in the staff room,” Freddy began to explain, pointing to the room in question. “It may take us some time to figure out the correct configuration to get us to the vent, unless we can locate some instructions...”

Freddy stared at the maze for a moment, before giving a nod and stepping up to the first moveable wall. Using his animatronic strength he simply lifted the wall out of its track, effectively making a new path that would lead them to the vent without worrying about pressing buttons in the correct order. Putting the wall to the side, Freddy glanced back at Gregory with a grin. “However, I believe this way is much easier—do you agree?”

The destruction of company property brought a smile to the kid’s face. The corners of his mouth raised in an equally happy grin as he sauntered through the new path created for them.

“Freddy, why did they make you that strong?” he asked in wonder.

While he sounded impressed, there was a genuine need to know why on earth they felt the need to create a robot so much tougher than a person. Were they made that way to protect the children? Gregory didn't have any doubt that the shared strength of all the animatronics could lift a full bus. Still, there were no complaints as he told Freddy: “That idea was genius!”

“I honestly do not know why we are so strong, but it certainly proves useful at times!” Freddy replied, still smiling as he moved a few more walls out of the way without any visible effort.

Soon, they’d reached the vent. To Freddy’s surprise and immediate suspicion, the cover had already been unscrewed and was lying haphazardly on the ground. Despite management’s admittedly lax rules on some of the Pizzaplex’s safety measures, they would never allow something like this to happen during opening hours—it was too much of an obvious lawsuit waiting to happen.

“Someone has been here recently…,” Freddy murmured with a frown. The only ones who could fit through vents besides Gregory were: Charlie (clearly out of the question); the Daycare attendant (maybe, if he was in Moon’s virus-infected mode), or… Vanessa.

Freddy’s worry instantly increased at the danger Gregory was about to encounter. There were too many unknowns, too many things that could go wrong—

The bear crouched down, his expression caught between reassurance and concern as he held out his arms for what he hoped wasn’t their final hug. “Be careful, superstar. I will be with you again soon.”

Gregory threw himself against Freddy in another hug, wary of the Fazcam and careful not to damage his only means of defense.

“I'll see you soon...,” he assured, voice muffled against Freddy where he squished his face into his shoulder. If Gregory had any say about it, this would be just another embrace in a long line of hugs to come. After making sure the camera’s flash and power were on, he parted from the bear and started the next segment in his ever-treacherous journey.

Crawling through vents wasn't as discreet as they’d made it look in the movies. There was such a loud banging with every advancement Gregory made, he was surprised no one really heard it. Perhaps these vents were insulated to dilute the sounds of the airflow; that was his most likely guess.

Whatever the case, Gregory decided to hurry it up. There was no chance he'd leave Freddy to wonder whether or not he was okay by dawdling. He really didn't want to spend all that much time inside these places anyway. With barely enough light to see in the full darkness, his fear was that something small could be deftly crawling after him now...

As soon as the boy rounded a corner, Freddy sprinted back towards Monty Golf. He wanted to make it there as fast as possible so he'd be waiting for Gregory when he emerged on the other side of the vent. He was only waylaid by the elevator, its usually-cheery music now a grating sound that only heightened the animatronic's newfound anxiety.

Meanwhile, near the catwalks and just out sight, a gator laid in wait for his prey.

***

At some points, Gregory was bathed in darkness. This was when he’d scurry fastest, barely registering where he was going in his haste to just get out. Eventually, he saw the green glow of the golf course up ahead shining through the slats in the vent cover. Gregory automatically raised his watch to his mouth, before thinking twice about updating Freddy. Should they give away the other’s position with Monty or another infected animatronic around, it left either of them open for attack.

So, after pushing through the vent cover and watching it dangle loosely at its bottom right bolt, Gregory carefully let himself down onto the catwalks. At the far left corner of the winding platforms was a raised, extendable escape ladder.

Carefully, Gregory snuck towards it as he tried to be mindful of how heavy his feet fell on the grated metal tracks. Upon reaching the ladder, the boy pulled the safety pin free to unleash its length towards the ground floor, metal clanking making him wince. If Monty didn't know he was there before, he surely did now.

G̴̻̈o̸̬͌.̵͕̐[1]

The combination of the ladder being unhooked and the virus in Monty’s head stirred him into action. He was waiting in a “backstage” area just out of Gregory’s sight, and upon command he reached up and flipped a switch. This activated the infamous Hurricane Hole-In-One where children had to use air-powered guns to shoot plastic balls at a goal, which would then dump all the balls in a spectacular rainbow waterfall. The guns were scattered around the catwalks themselves and also attached to suspended ride vehicles that ran on a circular track around the area. Once Monty flipped the switch these ride vehicles came to life, and the gator wasted no time hopping onto one and clinging to the side at a jaunty angle.

Upon entering the main area and spying Gregory, Monty let out a deafening roar. He hopped down to land mere feet from the tiny child and in a pure, animalistic display of aggression grabbed one of the stationary air guns and literally ripped it off its foundation. Then he zeroed in on Gregory, a wide grin on his face as he pulled down his glasses to reveal crazed red eyes.

“Let’s rock and roll!” Monty shouted with a raucous laugh, and the chase officially began.

It surely was a dramatic entrance. The clanking and clattering of Monty landing on the rails was enough to bounce Gregory in place, the impact so jarring that his knees almost buckled from its force. Unwilling to stick around to see what Monty would do after destroying the airsoft gun, Gregory pulled himself up and turn tail to sprint away.

Not before snapping a quick picture with his Fazcam, though. Hoping to stun the gator and give him a few seconds of leeway, Gregory released the bright flash directly in Monty’s face. He expected the gator to freeze, maybe even stumble backwards and pitch over the railing himself—

But all he did was laugh.

Oh shit, Gregory thought, his breathing hitching as he darted away. The sunglasses! This camera wasn't going to do anything to help him as long as Monty had those stupid shades on!

There was only one thing to do, then. As Gregory slide on his side to make a sharp turn and aimed to put more distance between him and the blood-hungry gator, he screamed into his Fazwatch. “FREDDY, HE'S AFTER ME!”

Gregory didn't even need the watch for Freddy to hear his shout. The bear was already running towards the ladder, sparing a quick glance up to see Monty tailing the boy far too close for comfort. As Freddy grasped the first rung and began to climb, he called back: “I am coming, Gregory! Just keep your distance until I make it up there!”

Monty cackled wildly as he chased down the helpless child. He barely had any coherent thoughts anymore, only the intense desire to—

C̸̞̍a̵̚ͅt̸̜͗c̷̟̽h̷͚͊ ̶̦̾t̶̞̿h̵̞̍e̸̼͑ ̸̮͠b̶̯̀o̸̧͝ÿ̷̼.̸͇̉ ̸̬̾Ǔ̵̩s̷̗͐e̴̥͗ ̶̡͛f̵̱̐ơ̶̖r̵̜̿ċ̵̬e̴̢̓ ̵͓͘î̸͜f̵͙͒ ̸͠ͅǹ̷̺e̵͈̎c̴͈̈è̸͔s̷͉̍s̷̬̀ą̵̅r̴͓͒y̶͛͜,̴̠̽ ̵̗̿b̴̦͒ų̴̍t̷̥̒ ̵̽͜d̴͕̿ö̵̠́ń̶̫'̵̰̔t̴̪̒ ̷̭̂k̴̀ͅi̶̯̊l̷͓̎l̸̳̐ ̵̭̈́h̸͈͝i̵̭͋m̸̭̐ ̵̯̈́y̴͕̓ę̷̔t̶͔͌.̶̩͗ ̵̱̂G̵̹͒E̶͕̊T̸͍̊ ̷̰̑H̸̪̆Į̵̽M̸̲̂!̶͇͆[2]

To the gator's dismay, Gregory's tiny size made it easy for him to slip away. Monty might be fast, but his large frame was a hindrance in a long-endurance chase. However, the game was only just beginning and the gator had a few tricks up his sleeve.

When Gregory started to get away, Monty paused. It seemed like he was crouching down to take a rest, but this assumption was quickly disproved when he jumped, using his powerful legs to vault him over an entire row of metal track to land heavily in Gregory's path once again.

“Hey, little guy!” he sneered, arms outstretched as he moved forward. “C'mere and give your ol' pal Monty a hug, will ya?!”

With eyes wider than dinner plates and a high-pitched shriek Gregory fell backwards on his haunches, slipping on the smooth metal before attempting his escape in the opposite direction. It seemed as though he ran in place for a moment, and he could feel the back of his shirt tearing where Monty nearly grasped him.

Gregory wondered if jumping off the catwalk himself would be an easier out than whatever Monty had in store. When he could practically feel the swing of those bulky arms shadowing his every move, Gregory tried to calculate a leap off the metal framework. If he aimed for one of the deeper pools where those other robotic alligators were, maybe he’d live—

When he felt claws scrape his back grasping onto the scraps of his already tattered shirt, Gregory knew he’d lost his chance. He clutched the collar of his striped polo and begun to kick his legs, struggling as his feet lifted from the ground.

“Let go! Let go, please!” he yelled in a panic, desperately landing weak kicks to Monty's torso that didn’t even seem to faze him.

“No can do, little guy!” Monty exclaimed, turning Gregory to face him. He gripped the boy's shirt tight, completely disregarding the choking noises and pleading as Gregory urgently tried to escape. He simply laughed off the boy’s attempts to harm him, the strikes akin to nothing more than an annoying gnat buzzing around one's head. Monty held him up higher, his expression utterly feral. “I've got me a prize, and I'm not lettin' it go!”

“MONTY, STOP!” Freddy shouted, moving as fast as he dared. The ladder was holding his weight, but it shook the faster he moved and he didn't want to chance it breaking when he was so close—he was already three fourths of the way there. Just a little more and he'd be able to act.

Monty briefly looked over as Freddy called to him, though more out of annoyance than anything else. “Aww, shut up, Fazbear! You always ruin the fun!”

Still holding Gregory by the shirt Monty began stalking towards the ladder, his free claw outstretched and glinting in the glow lights. Freddy instantly realized what the gator was about to do.

“Gregory, his glasses!” he shouted. “Knock off his glasses and use the camera! Now!”

Gregory had to be fast, no matter how badly his vision swam and the blood trapped in his head hurt. He could feel his heartbeat in his eardrums as he let go of his shirt, feeling the cheap material rip further with his weight as he smacked the busted spectacles from Monty's snout.

When the plastic frames clattered to the ground, so did Gregory as his collar finally ripped from Monty's abuse. Landing hard on his butt, he let out a groan before adjusting and flashing his camera directly in the gator’s face. The bright light pierced the dark atmosphere of Monty Golf, engulfing the pair and capturing a candid snapshot of Monty—

—who’d been aiming his claws right for Gregory's face.

Monty screeched as the closest thing the animatronics felt to pain ripped through his head. He stumbled backwards, clutching at his eyes as the echoes of the camera light pulsed in blinding white.

“ARGH! Why you little—you took my fuckin' glasses!”

Through the haze of panic clouding Freddy's mind, the fact that Monty still cared more for his glasses than his actual eyesight made him wonder if the real gator was still in there deep down... That, or he was just completely insane. Either way, they could no longer appeal to Monty's morals—that was for sure.

With a final push of effort, Freddy soon clambered onto the catwalks and rushed towards the pair. Eyes locked onto their shared target, he was at Gregory’s side in a matter of seconds.

“Stay behind me,” Freddy commanded, stepping between the boy and the gator. As Monty began to recover, Freddy looked around for any way to stop him that didn't involve getting into a physical fight. Even with his fierce determination to protect Gregory, Freddy was hesitant to go hand to hand with those claws... Though of course he would if he had to.

At Freddy's request Gregory hid behind his leg, both knowing this solution wasn't permanent. When Monty's vision finally adjusted to the darkness again, Gregory waved the mangled shades he’d snatched from the ground.

“That's right!” he shouted, backing down the catwalk in an attempt to goad Monty towards him and give Freddy time to think. “I got your stupid glasses, nerd! You want ‘em? Come and get ‘em!”

Whether or not they truly had the upper hand was yet to be determined. Gregory vaguely wondered whether Monty, in his deluded obsession with the star-shaped shades, would think twice about jumping over the edge if he tossed his prized possession down below…

It was better than risking Freddy getting clawed open, for sure. Gregory could hardly feel the wide slice across his back due to the adrenaline, only the remnants of sticky crimson that seeped into the remains of his shirt.

Monty growled again, eyes wide with bloodlust so fierce he didn't even register who was in front of him until Freddy grasped him around the torso in an ironic bear hug. In response, Monty roared in the bear’s ear and screamed: “GET OFF ME! THAT KID IS DEAD MEAT!”

“NO, Monty!” Freddy exclaimed just as loudly, teeth clenched as he resisted the gator's strength with all his might. However, his feet started to slip backwards on the slick metal as Monty's bulk quickly overwhelmed him. Frantically, Freddy looked around for something—anything—that could save them—

And that's when he had a brilliant, if very risky idea.

“Gregory, can you still run?!” Freddy asked, though he didn't even wait for a response before giving his instructions. “Do you see that huge bucket with the flashing lights behind it? You need to fill it up! Use the guns around the catwalk and—Monty, stop resisting and stay still—shoot at the bucket! Trust me!”

He didn't have time to explain the rest, now solely focused on counteracting the gator's weight as he thrashed and snarled at Gregory. Monty was so lost in his madness that he couldn’t even process the others were discussing a way to take him down; he just wanted that little shit in his hands so he could rip him apart, voice in his head be damned.

Gregory had only just begun to register what exactly Freddy needed from him as he watched the scrabble with increasing horror. The distraction with the glasses allowed Freddy to grapple Monty, but the fighting gator wasn't giving up so easily. Rage barely contained within Freddy's arms threatened to break out and hurt all of them, so upon quickly locating one of the guns Gregory ran across the catwalks with purpose and direction.

After sliding in front of the closest turret, he took aim and fired for the Hole-in-One bucket. Every perfect shot rang out with an encouraging chime, the dings loud over the ambient music and the sounds of both Freddy and Monty struggling.

Based on how fiercely the bear was working to protect him, there was no doubt that Gregory wouldn't trust Freddy with his life at this point.

“Keep holding on! It's almost filled!” he shouted, moving onto the next gun and unloading its clip in near perfect succession. When the victory bell finally tolled, the heavy bucket began to lower.

Honestly a little shocked that Freddy was still holding Monty in place, Gregory screamed with concern pitching his voice high. “FREDDY! Drop him!”

It was a close call, that's for sure. The bear's legs were actually shaking with the effort of keeping Monty from rampaging after the child—if Gregory had taken even a minute longer, Freddy's knee joints would probably have snapped. However, victory was within their grasp and Freddy wasn't going to let Gregory suffer anymore at the hands of the rampaging bassist.

With a sudden burst of reserve strength, Monty was roughly shoved away. Caught off-guard, the gator stumbled backwards to land heavily on his back... right underneath the dumping area of the bucket. As the rainbow waterfall of plastic and foam rained down upon him, Monty instinctively held his arms up to stop the pail itself from crushing him.

At first, his strength seemed to be winning out—to Freddy's absolute horror, the bucket actually started to move back up upon Monty's pushing. Then, weakened from the gator's previous running around and recent jarring impact, the floor underneath him cracked open with an awful screech. Monty roared as he fell, though this was swiftly cut off as his torso hit a thick, metal beam on the way down. The impact was at just the right angle that combined with his already-compromised physical condition, the gator's body literally snapped in half, endoskeleton and all. Freddy pressed his paws to his mouth in shock as he watched the pieces of his old friend land unceremoniously on a little stage far below.

Monty's top half twitched once, twice... And then, finally, the gator was still.

What a horrendous way to go. It was the same path that Gregory had nearly taken—though he was sure his death wouldn't have been so clean.

After bending the earpieces of Monty's gifted shades to fit better, Gregory decided to put them on. He saw it as a trophy now, something he'd swiped from the animatronic that'd nearly taken his life twice. He slowly approached his stalwart protector, adrenaline still racing through his veins in the form of trembling aftershocks. Eventually he slipped his arms around Freddy's leg, the hug meant to be a comfort to them both.

Monty hadn’t been broken without reason—it was necessary to keep Gregory safe after all. The boy just hadn't realized the damage it might cause Freddy to see that happen firsthand.

“You saved me...” Gregory had meant to say thank you, though it seemed he was star-struck in a way. Too overwhelmed from nearly meeting his demise and dazed by Monty's gruesome end to properly thank the bear, his gratitude-filled hug would have to do.

Freddy simply stared down at the remains of Monty until he felt the hesitant embrace to his leg. Gregory's words snapped him out of whatever mental spiral he was falling into. He could grieve the loss of his friend later—and besides, Monty might not be gone forever. He was a robot whose personality could be salvaged and uploaded to a new body. Gregory, however, wouldn't have been so lucky had he gone over the railing instead.

“Oh, Gregory!” Freddy exclaimed, the emotion in his voice so raw it even startled him. He bent down to pull him into a proper hug, holding him as close as he dared. The boy was shaking with residual shock, pliant in Freddy's arms for a moment until he eventually squeezed back softly. “I was so worried that Monty was going to...” He trailed off with a shake of his head, not needing to think about that possibility and longer. “But are you okay?! Are you hurt?!”

Freddy pulled back slightly to perform a health scan, visually noting the absolutely shredded state of Gregory's shirt as he did so. The most concerning thing was the gash to his back, though thankfully it was shallow and had stopped actively bleeding for the most part. Other than that, somehow he'd only escaped with a few more bruises to add to his growing collection. Once assured that Gregory wasn't in immediate danger of a medical emergency, Freddy pulled him back into his arms.

“We saved each other, superstar,” he murmured, one arm securely around the boy’s torso and the other hand resting comfortingly on his head. “And I am going to continue protecting you until I can no longer function—you have my word. I will not let anything like this happen to you again.”

It was over. The danger had subsided for now. So why were there tears in Gregory's eyes?

…He knew why. Gregory could feel the worry, then immediate relief in Freddy's voice. He wasn't just some computer program that Gregory could pick apart. He was his friend. Someone who only had his best interests at heart.

For the first time in forever, Gregory could feel safe. No, not only that—

He felt loved.

“I'm fine!” he said through tears as the shock wore off. Thank goodness for the oversized shades; they covered most of the wet tracks on his cheeks and would hopefully keep his da—friend from worrying himself further, lest Gregory wanted him to burn out a circuit from the stress.

“You had me worried there, Freddy!” he attempted to joke, his grip tightening against the bear’s smooth metal casing. “I-I need you around, so don't… don’t go and break d-down on me, okay?”

“Of course,” Freddy replied gently, a smile tugging at his facial joints. Gregory wasn't one to state his true feelings so blatantly, but the bear understood the implication behind his words: he felt safe and trusted Freddy to take care of him.

And, really, that's all the overly sentient animatronic wanted in the end.

“Now, how about we get that access pass and return to the security office?” Freddy suggested, his voice soft and calm. Since the threat was gone, he'd already returned to his usual friendly demeanor. “We can stop by the gift shop on the way and get you a new shirt.” His eyes twinkled with an almost mischievous light. “And as this is a special circumstance, I suppose I can let you have your pick of anything else you might like from the gift shop as well, free of charge—toys included.”

He couldn't recall where that plushie went that Gregory had for all of five minutes. It’d probably been lost in the chaos of the arcade. Freddy knew that toys weren't ample compensation for everything Gregory had been through, but he'd looked so happy with that plushie when Charlie handed it over... He couldn't help wanting to see that sparkle in his eyes again, if only for a moment before the next terrifying event threatened to take everything away from them once more.

Gregory could also use a soda. With his receding adrenaline and the sugar crash impacting him from those cupcakes he had earlier, he was quickly tiring out—though the promise of a new toy had him smiling again. Letting go of Freddy was hard, but the big guy did need to walk and guide them through the dangerous Pizzaplex without Gregory being cumbersome.

“Yeah! This shirt was old anyway; I need a new Freddy plush, too…,” the boy agreed, forcing the waiver from his voice. He let out a little huff, realizing they must’ve left his other stuffed toy in a past security office. Was it surprising that Gregory would honestly go back for just the toy and to resupply his Freddy merch addiction after what he’d just been through?

Probably not with the way he’d begun to idolize the bear.

It was a careful descent down from the catwalk. Freddy wanted them to make a beeline for the exit after snagging the card, but Gregory had to see the full damage. Monty was busted until wires were exposed and his eyes rolled freely, disconnected from their optical joints. Even the guy’s strong hands were snapped off, the glint of Gregory’s blood shining on the sharp metal...

With quick movements of a seasoned thief, Gregory snagged the claws, fitting one in each deep pocket of his cargo shorts. Hopefully Freddy didn't see the looting of his late friend’s corpse, or Gregory was sure to hear an earful from his guardian.

Freddy was too distracted with examining the damage to Monty's lower half to notice the boy’s scheme. The access card to the higher-level security offices was laying near Monty's feet, having been tucked into some hidden compartment during their encounter. Though Monty was too far gone to actually offer them assistance, the fact that he did keep up his end of the stacked bargain caused a sharp pang in Freddy's chest. Maybe deep down, the real Monty had still been in there...

Hopefully he could be restored and brought back to himself someday. Perhaps in time, he and Gregory would even be able to build their relationship that'd been ripped to shreds before it could really even begin.

But for now, it was time to move on. Taking Gregory's hand, Freddy led them to the elevator and out of the golf course. They both squinted upon entering the bright lights of the atrium, though it was a welcome relief to be out of the black-lit darkness of Gator Golf.

A few minutes later, they'd entered the gift shop. As Gregory distracted himself with examining the multitude of shirt designs to choose from, Freddy went to the snack counter and grabbed a few bags of candy and soda—his earlier health scan indicated high adrenaline and lowering sugar levels, which Freddy knew would come back to bite them both if they didn't keep Gregory sustained. Obviously real food and water would be better, but for the time being this would have to do. Who knew how much longer this night was going to last...

There were a couple of shirt designs that Gregory was interested in. Some neat color-block and a cool Chica-themed vaporwave pattern stuck out to him. However, he didn't want to mess up a shirt he actually wanted.

When Gregory spied a grey and black striped tank top, soft and strong feeling, he went and tossed his old and ripped shirt in the trash before slipping the new one on instead. If Gregory got blood on this shirt, it’d be much harder to see should it stain.

It was a hop, skip and a jump away from a nearby cooler. Without thinking Gregory called for Freddy in the offhanded way of a distracted child.

“Hey, Dad, can I have a soda?” he asked, wholly unaware of what he’d just said as he perused the choices of drink. It might be messed up, but Gregory's next choice would be the lemon-lime Monty flavor.

“Yes, of course you ca—”

Freddy's jaw hung open mid-word as he processed what Gregory just called him. But... that wasn't right. Surely Gregory hadn't been addressing him, an animatronic bear as—

Dad.

Although, seeing as they were the only two beings in the room, Freddy had to concede that he was the only one Gregory could have posed that question to.

“Of course you can have a soda—any kind you like, superstar,” Freddy tried again, and the grin on his face could rival the sun.

There were many implications of this new title that Freddy would have to process later, but he could deal with that in time. He wouldn't acknowledge Gregory's words directly unless the boy brought up the topic himself, just in case it had been a slip of the tongue. Personally, though it might be selfish to think... Freddy hoped it hadn't been a mistake.

Yes, it was a slip! One that Gregory was ready to be embarrassed by. He wasn't sure why exactly—maybe it was years going by without a real father figure to look up to that made him hesitant to relinquish any true, raw emotion.

When Freddy didn't correct him Gregory's face flushed, feeling warm as he quickly grabbed the soda. The happy accident seemed to make him smile anyway. Gregory would think he was acting so cool and nonchalant about it, but to Freddy he was simply a bashful kid averting his eyes as he grinned at the circumstances they found themselves in.

“Thanks!” Gregory said cheerfully, desperately needing the caffeine boost. Seeing Freddy actually looking proud of him was so much to take in, though in time Gregory hoped to get used to that feeling. After grabbing a new Glamrock-themed plushie from a shelf, the pair were good to go.

As strange as the scenario was, Gregory liked to imagine that Freddy was his father as they walked from the store together—that it was the end of a long, fun-filled day and he didn't ache from being batted around by angry robots. For once he’d pretend that he’d been picking up souvenirs with his dad, ready to head home and fall asleep while sitting shotgun in his car. In actuality, Gregory would hold Freddy's hand all the way to the security office with his eyes half-closed in simulated bliss.

Once they’d locked themselves inside the office again, Freddy had two immediate goals: patch up Gregory’s wound and charge his battery. He’d lost quite a bit of power holding Monty back, and Freddy was grateful Michael had the foresight to locate his manual charging cord in the midst of all this madness.

Speaking of the old ghost… as Freddy coaxed Gregory into letting him clean and bandage the gash in his back using a nearby first aid kit, the bear couldn’t help but wonder what Mike and Charlie were up to now. Had they been able to locate Michael’s “father?”

And what did their whole situation really mean, anyway?

Freddy and Gregory had been focused on such tangible goals as getting access cards and stopping rogue gators, they hadn’t had time to dwell on the night’s more existential questions.

[1] Go.

[2] Catch the boy. Use force if necessary, but don’t kill him yet. GET HIM!

***

Previous Chapter ~~ Next Chapter

Looking for more? Check out the Chapter Masterlist on Tumblr!

Or check out the entire Wires that Bind Us Series on ao3!

[btscontentenjoyer]

I am simply obsessed with both Jungkook and OC here!!!

"It’s usually not quite appropriate for a lady to travel alone with a man she’s not even engaged to; in your time, pretty much unheard of. But somehow, they trust you to not ruin your own future. They trust in true love, in your relationship.

Funny, because they have a lot more faith in you than you do yourself." I read that first paragraph and I was all 🥺🥺🥺 but then it quickly turned into 😔😔😔

"As you saw his armour cracking, you wanted to drop yours, too. His spiralling mind demanded arms around his body; some solace to alleviate the pain he’d been carrying with him for so long now." Please he's so precious and sad, I want to give him the tightest hug. I don't think I've ever been so on board about a man with questionable intentions so quickly, but there's just something about him that pulled me in from the beginning.

"But then, he licked his lip. Let his shoulders fall and said, “Her name is Suhana. And she’s an illegitimate child.” 😬😬😬😬

"You whispered, “I’m listening, Kook. Only I am listening.” 🥺🥺🥺 I'm glad he has someone kind like OC at this time to reassure him like this.

"In the matter of weeks, you had learned that affection isn’t a straight road, and that not every relationship leads to the same goal. Sometimes, paths diverge: some end in what you’ve always imagined about love; others are far darker.

Jungkook had turned love into something hopeful for you before he’d painted it black; and now that you were here, feeling the same sparks of hope again, its colour was slowly returning again." Again, I was just marvelling at the first paragraph because I found it beautiful and then I look to the next one and you hit me with the colour returning through hope and love and 😭😭😭 I really hope it does 😭😭😭😭 for two couples in fact.

"A pity. Who knows where Jungkook could’ve been today if he’d had proper company to grow up with?" Yeah :(( they could have been such good friends too under other circumstances.

"He kept shaking his head, and you kept sighing. You were on two different pages, but you both had in common that you were worried about the other." Cuteeee

"He was still gentle when his tender, mild voice, dipped in sugar, begged, “Sweetheart…” He needs to stop doing things like this for the sake of my mental health 😫😫😫

“Because,” he started. Gulped. Looked away from you and to his hands. “I’ve never known another way.” Yeah ☹️☹️☹️

“And it might turn out well,” you said, blinking quickly, “everything. For you, me… us. I don’t want to lose you, no matter in whichever way.” Keeping my fingers crossed for these two cuties.

"You might be sleep-drunken, but none of your slumbers will ever be deep enough to keep him from lighting up your veins. Not with his body wrapped around yours. Holding you like a guardian, keeping you close to his heart as you wish him to." This 💕💕

"In the light of the street lamps outside, you see him blinking. He’s biting his lower lip; despite the pain he’s caused you, you don’t think he’s faring any better without your fondness." 🥺🥺🥺 He's definitely not doing better than her yeah. Honestly, I see him going back to his old habits and sleeping with another woman as proof of just that. Clearly he was so affected by her rejection that he sought out the only relief he's ever known. It probably wasn't of much help though :((

"You can’t remember the first time he looked at you as though he orbited you. Like you shone a light into the darkness his heart inhabits. At least that spark of affection must’ve been real." 💕💕

“How did you cope with it then?” you ask." Oh I don't think she really wants to know.

“It hurt.” There’s remorse in his voice. He looks like he wants to reach out; and he sounds sincere. “I was talking about you.” Rid, you have such a talent for writing scenes that make me hold my breath the entire time I'm reading them. Reminds me of the way I felt when cmi OC asked Jungkook about Nara in his car.

"You need to push your negative feelings back. Your thoughts and your doubts. You don’t want to dwell on mistakes but find a way to heal him, and the two of you. Don’t want to think of other women, or the scheme that hurt you." Man, I love her a lot. I hope that she's able to dispel all of her worries and bad thoughts later 🥺

"But… What if the secrets his family hides are too big for you to endure? What if the intrigues are too ominous, too dark for your colourful life? Could you fight through them for him?" I believe in them <3

"Jungkook’s grip finally falls around you, and he straightens his back, ready to step out before he tells you, “Then let’s alleviate the pain.” Whew, I hope he really can at the end of all of this, OC doesn't deserve to hurt.

"He didn’t talk to him much, only barging in when he, to your surprise, rejected your idea to get separate rooms. It’d be cheaper to share one, he said." Mhmmmm, yep. Since both of them are so poor, you know.

"Now that you’ve stepped over the threshold of the room, however, you’re nervy. There is only one bed." 👀👀👀

“I could sing something to you.” Pleaseeeee he's so cute, I'm freaking out.

“Then. Can I hold you?” I'm. freaking. out.

“I do not,” he cuts you off, “I… I am a little selfish.” You almost hear it when he swallows. Maybe he’s feeling as fragile as you do. “…I want to hold you.” I'M FREAKING OUT!!!!

"Sure, there’s the fear of falling deeper into this mess; to lock him deeper in your heart and forbid an escape. Although it might be too late anyway." Fear of pain is so real, especially when the person's hurt you before. But sometimes it's worth risking it. And that goes for the fear of inflicting pain on the other person as well, because that's definitely something that can hold you back too.

"A slight whimper escapes you when he pushes against your body. Your fists clench, and when he notices, he’s quick to inquire, “Too much?” Aaah I love seeing the parts you've teased in the actual story and be able to put them in context!!!

"You thought you were water, cool as ice; and that he was fire, hot-headed and irresistible. You wanted to evaporate with him, but right now, you’re both burning.

Right now, you’re not steam but a wildfire.

He’ll leave you in ashes, and you’ll let him." I love these metaphors every time!

"You grimace. The agony is unbearable — love hurts worse when both hearts are involved but reality keeps pulling them apart." It does it does it does 😭😭😭😭😭

"He robs you of breath when he whispers, “Just you.” As he nuzzles your neck, you lose half your mind; devoid of thoughts when he adds, “And I won’t stop trying.” This man 👏👏👏

"Whenever it dawns on you how realities have broken you within weeks, your cheerful little self, hidden in the depths of your brain, recoils." Poor OC 🥺🥺🥺 she really is the kindest person and doesn't deserve any of this.

"He catches himself before the door finally opens; you’re glad you didn’t keep your fist any lower." Lmaooo

“Suhana should be back by tomorrow afternoon.” She says it casually, but… what is that? Something in her words. In her tone. There’s melancholy, something entirely new; peculiar. You ignore it for now. “You shall say hello then. As old friends.” All of this has me on edge and a bit suspicious, I must say.

"Suhana must be living the life that Jungkook craves." 🥺🥺🥺

"Jungkook grimaces; his face grows redder by the second. “Why am I upset? I— we came a long way. And you did not do a thing we agreed upon! You never do!” This argument is so interesting to me, I really wonder what he means by this exactly, because what have they agreed to do before? It does seem like a little bit of a disproportionate reaction to OC's mistake tbh, so there must be something more that's bothering him.

"And then, quieter than before, you question, “What else did we agree upon? Except this.” Exactly!!!

"He sighs. Your accusations trigger fury in him; you see it in his demeanour. Another glance towards you, eyes piqued; another warning, “Please shut up.” Ooooh he's getting reeeally mad now and yet she's not stopping, which she's honestly fully in her right to do.

“Fuck it.” ‼️‼️‼️‼️

“I mean it. I was,” he says. “And I am.” The way he keeps repeating it I- 👁️👄👁️

"You think he’s imagining something — seeing pictures he needs gone. It’s easy for you to assume such a thing, because you think you look the same when you paint a future without him." This. I'm. I'm seriously speechless.

"And the single word makes the grip around your hair tighter; he whispers a little, “How much longer were we supposed to wait?” before the silken softness of his mouth falls back on yours." The man is completely right!!!

"And perhaps you are ready to fight and endure for him. No matter what the truth may be; what the future might entail.

He, against you, with you, next to you — a cure." Hell yessss! Although I hope she keeps thinking like that later too.

"His body hovers over yours with his signature smirk — it’s a crucial part of him. You used to detest it; grit your teeth at its sight. But today, it relieves you, because you must admit that you missed it." The development!!! Love to see it!!!!

"His eyebrows relax, a smile gracing his features so fondly; something about your adoration, how you deem him unreal must be gratifying to him." I am actually kicking my feet and smiling right now.

"Or maybe, he isn’t used to feeling special. Because somehow, it seems that most of your words catch him off guard, no matter how devotedly you kiss him." 🥺🥺🥺 He is special though 🥺🥺🥺

“Yes,” he immediately answers. “Yes, I think there is.” A peck lands on the corner of your lips. “One where,” another under your mouth, “we can do all of this without hiding. As an official unit. And…” They should get married immediately. I'll officiate at the wedding, of course.

“Be careful,” he delivers delayed, caressing the skin of your limbs; starting at the legs, past your sides, delicately along your arm. “I am finding it hard to do so. So you need to be careful for me.” Wait that's so hot helppp

“What are you doing, hm?” he wants to know. He kisses the spot next to your eye, and it reflexively shuts; so adorable that he combusts. “Princess cannot get enough, yes?” That kiss 😫😫😫 hitting my heart and other parts of my body equally hard lol.

"You don’t know what the future will bring; pain and misery come suddenly. So this is all you can offer; a soft order, a plea to him to keep you sane." Exactly <33

"They were tender; they were fond of you. Their affection was genuine, but so was their pride. Perhaps they thought that asking for preferences was more awkward than having their way and finishing quickly.

But Jungkook isn’t only taking his time with you, but observing your reactions, too." Love to see that!!! Communication is key when you want to please your partner the right way (which you should probably always want to do). As a person who loves to talk everything out before doing it, not even only when it comes to sex, this is literally heaven lmao.

“Sweetheart,” you hear his voice. When he falls back next to you, his fingers settle under your chin, and he says, “Close your mouth.” Lmaooo sameee I feel OC completely.

“I draw. I paint… I need you on a canvas.” This?!?!??! He literally gets impossibly hotter every moment and I don't know how much more I can handle.

"Jeon Jungkook is weak, too — you’re eagerly awaiting his reaction to when you’ll replace those fingers with something else." Hehe so am I.

"But this time, you won’t let yourself stay passive; want him to beg, too." OC is so hot for this too. I don't know who to be more jealous of tbh.

“No,” you say, “better.” She's so hot!!!

"From what you gathered the first time, back in that room before agony striked, he will do it all — you know he will. He is the type to. And his fingers are twitching." He is this exact type, isn't he 😩😩😩

“Memorise those sounds, because you might not hear them again,” Jungkook says, and you look at him with raised eyebrows; his eyes are still closed. “This might kill me.” Lmaoo so dramatic.

"He enjoys the word pretty; for a full minute, he whisper-repeats it like a maniac. Swears and sighs; his exclaims stop making sense." Okay but as I've said before, that's literally my favourite word. And so now I'm laughing because I've done that before so many times just because I love the way it sounds. (Wish it was for the reasons that Jungkook is doing it for instead though lmao)

"So you press a palm against his stomach, still moving your hand up and down the shaft as you order, “Lean back. Calm down.” I love her!!!

"You place a hand under his jaw, looking at him attentively as he stutters, “I di–didn’t know you had it in you… To do such… a thing.” The fact that she has him stuttering!!! I am actually obsessed with OC, she's my new role model.

"He waits. Hesitates. He doesn’t trust you, and the suspicious look lights up your chest. You have never had this much fun in bed before." I was just going to say that this is one of the most entertaining smut scenes I've read. It's so fun and amazing to see OC like this. Like I'm actually in complete awe of her, just like JK is.

“You aren’t already tired, yes?” he teases. You would remark something just as cocky, but you can’t form a word. He’s far better at this thinking thing than you are. “Go on. You can do it.” Literally him stuttering and not being able to speak and his cocky self not being able to shut up are both so hot, I can't pick which is more lethal.

“Do you… compare to anyone, though?” I am totally convinced now that she doesn't.

“No,” he murmurs, shaking his head just a little. “This is me pouring all my desire into you.” He raises the leg he priorly angled, and kisses above your ankle. “All of what I feel for you.”!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“You… you liked this one.” Lmaooo understatement of the century.

“You can take it. Once more, my angel.” I will never not fold immediately when that term of endearment is spoken 😫😫😫

"The broken groans, the taut jaw. The hisses and the alternating tone. High and whiny first, deep and enticing later.

The beautiful arch-form of his upper lip, and the plumpness of the lower lip; both parted." That does sound beautiful, damn.

“It just hurts to be observed when I just want to be here. With you. The nights we spent away from balls were the only ones he didn’t see, and I felt… free.

Your guts twist. You hate that you’re the first to provide such a humane feeling; hate that he feels like a caged bird.” 🥺🥺🥺 I also keep drawing parallels between them and the cmi couple and I a hundred percent agree that this is them in a previous life 🥺🥺🥺

“He never lets us out of his sight,” you say, more a statement than a question." Honestly fuck meddling parents or guardians.

“Well, I…” He keeps staring at the ceiling. Blinks and gulps. Admits, “I do like to draw and paint. I wish to finish a big portrait one day.” I would die for artist Koo in any time period 🥺🥺🥺

“I wish I was better at writing,” you tell him." I'm trying not to let out sounds and wake up the whole house but !!!!!!!!!! it's them!!!!!!!

"You chuckle. He’s so warm against you; you should hate it in this summer heat. But he feels comforting. His touch and his encouragement are lovely." Comfort 🥺🥺🥺

“They glow!” you say; your pure, enthusiastic voice makes him laugh. “No, but they do. Why do they? If not for us to admire them. Some find them strange, but I find them wonderful… shows that everyone and everything is worth admiring.

That poetic gene again. You will never stop dreaming; and he will never stop adoring this quality of yours.” This is so precious!!!!

"He breathes hope into his lungs, quieter than before." I love that line a lot for some reason 🥺

"The reality that strokes of pencils paint is fascinating to you. Pictures taken from the mind and eternalised on paper; for someone who has never attempted proper art, creativity of such calibre is mind-blowing to you." Yupppp

"If you had the power to take everyone’s pain…" How many times can I say that she's too cute or precious? It doesn't matter, it won't be enough.

"Red-pink lips press together and then release. Jungkook has a dozen habits, but this is one you find oddly endearing; a smack of his lips, like he’s tasting heaven. The way he looked last night, too." This 🥺 This is why all of my reblogs of your stories are so long, Rid. How am I supposed to not point out every paragraph and little detail when I love them all so much.

"His dangling arms lift and he pushes his hands behind his back, supporting it. Now that he has confirmed the absence of your regrets, he isn't looking at you anymore. You wonder if there’s more that’s bothering him." There's always something bothering him, my sad boy :((

"For a minute, both you and her admire his appetite and manners. The constant praises as though she just invented strawberries herself. She glances at you; her eyes reveal that she deems you lucky, and you throw a proud smile back." One of his cutest habits 🥺🥺🥺 And OC is lucky of course, but so is he!

"The brief silence that follows is awkward; soon broken when she promises, “Oh, no. She won’t be back in a couple of hours, so I will rest just a little for now.” I have a feeling that she won't be back at all ☹️

“Because,” you say, carefully diving into the truth, “I am ready to do anything for you. I want to find my way back to you once and for all, and I want you to heal. And I need to separate him from you. For you to find a family member you can trust.” She wants to help him so bad and I love her for it <3

“If I spoke about an ideal ending,” you say, “then I think that would be it.”

“Good,” he murmurs; his whisper nearly matches yours now. “Good. I want it, as well.” They're so so cute!

“Maybe,” he agrees. “But I do need you, so I can understand what this life thing is. You lead a path to understanding. I’m not as strong as you, you see?” He angles his head. Beautiful even in his grief. “I wouldn’t have found it myself.” Stooooop, that's beautiful :')

"And suddenly, you do realise… It isn’t wrong to need anyone." Mmm, something I still need to learn properly, I think.

"A belief that crumbles just a bit later on. Suddenly and harshly." 😔😔😔

"So you state more than you ask, “She’s not coming.” Yeah 😔

"But tonight serves a bigger purpose. And all the habits you think you knew might come crumbling down; something might change this time." Aaaah I'm excited!

"Jungkook stares from the side; you’re too nervous to notice his fond gaze. You’re always soft-spoken, but the tone you gave your answer in is a melody to his ears." Cuteeee

"But you don’t fully understand her hint until you look at him. He’s beet-red, embarrassed; or possibly just liking your interaction. He looks at you like he’s dizzy.

So, so fond." This is so freaking cute, it has me scrunching my nose, smiling wide and everything

"Not because so many people are watching, but because this purity is a side of him that you’ve grown to cherish. The softness is reserved for you; the doting eyes blend out every light and shadow around you." 💕💕💕💕

“A true angel,” he nods. “You like everyone.”

“Do not call me that.”

“I think you are, though. Fell from the Heavens, but cannot remember.” Oh my goooooooood 🥺🥺🥺 This might be cmi couple in a previous life but in a life before that OC was an actual angel 🥺

"He, of course, doesn’t stop. Turns you in a circle, and then places his hand at the small of your back. Presses in as he says, “You shall get used to the name as you try remembering your celestial life.” Lmaooo he's got jokes.

"And just as quickly, he questions, “Do you reckon we’d meet again?” I'm actually holding back from screaming right now!!! And why are my eyes getting a litttle misty 🥺🥺🥺

"You laugh tenderly. He’s grown used to that sound — repeats it like a lullaby before he falls asleep." I love this line 💕💕💕

“I will be. I need to be until this is over, because it reminds me that I belong to you. Me,” he emphasises, connecting your foreheads. “Of all the hearts that exist, I want you to hold mine.” Eeeeep I'm kicking my feet under the covers.

"You put a palm against Jungkook’s back, and upon noticing the soft touch, his fingers unwrap just a little. Instead, his thumb brushes along your arm, a quiet gesture to signal comfort.

You have so much to say. His grip keeps you grounded; keeps your thoughts from combusting." Ah keeping each other grounded and comforted during a hard but necessary confrontation 🥺🥺🥺

"Maybe because a stranger’s absence hurts you more than a monster’s presence does." OC is so admirable!! I love her so much!!

"The rise of his heavy hand is sudden, and the gasps that sound through the room synchronised." Alright that's it, let me at him 😤😤😤😤

"You feel sorry for him." OC really is better than anyone and an angel because I don't really feel sorry for him 😬😬😬

"Despite his misdeeds and the lack of children you have, you think to understand what loss feels like. Fortunately not because you experienced it, but because you want to understand." Literally so admirable!!! That kind of empathy feels almost non-existent in people 🥺

"But at least for Jungkook, his family and you—

It’s over." My babies are free 😭😭😭

"Peonies, he said, signify healing, and to him, that’s worth far more than innocence. Perhaps, beyond that grave of hers, resting peacefully after a strugglesome life, she could heal alongside him." My sad bby boy, I love him 🥺🥺🥺

"A light smile tugs at his lips, and he says, “I have been trying. I finally gave up everything I needed to, so I could chase what I need to — rather than what I thought I might need.” I'm so proud of both of them 🥺

“But that’s not all there is, is it? My pain.”

“What then?”

“…You.” 😭😭😭😭😭

"At least, you get dangerously close to it soon, barely keeping your heartbeat at bay when he speaks, “I do not want to love alone.” You might throw up. Did he say what you think he said? “So I need to, yes.” This man!!!

"He was never the fire you thought he was before; now, he is. And thinking about it, with him, you grew so much wilder, too — a tsunami, two polar elements clashing." Again, I'm just so so proud of them.

"As you collide, you eventually meet in the middle — and evaporate to steam." Beautiful beautiful beautiful.

I feel like my thoughts on this weren’t as articulate as I'd like them to be, but honestly nothing came to mind but praises and admiration for every paragraph I read. I know you were unsure about this story as a whole from the beginning, but it really did grow into something beautiful and I'm so glad and thankful for all of the work you put into it and that you decided to share it with us <3

candles & flames: steam | jjk (m)

chapter III: steam

Summary: As you travel to unveil secrets, you slowly, surely, find your way back to Jungkook. The final act starts now.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader ➳ rating:18+ ➳ genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au; angst, fluff, smut ➳ warnings: talks about hook-ups, arguing and fighting, tears, a very bad uncle, (mention of past) minor character death, jk is hurting, tension, misunderstandings, anger, a slap…, revelations; explicit sexual content: kissing/making out, grinding, brief cockwarming, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, tiddie sucking, he just loves her tatas, slow and rough sex, bits of sub!jk :D and then dom!jk, big dick jk, he comes on her tummyyy, some giggly sex, feelings !!, jk is very vocal, begging, praises, super brief pain kink (?), multiple orgasms. lmk if i forgot something :’) ➳ wc: 34.3k what the actual fck ➳ a/n: here goes the last one. thank you so much for all the love and support, guys. i adore you so much 👑🤍  ➳ a/n2: this is part 3 to my mini-series candles & flames !! find the mpost below<3

SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs

How long have you been sitting on the cushioned seat and forcing your drooping eyelids to remain open now?

Keep reading

[kaijime]

watch your mouth

includes. osamu miya x f!reader

cw. corruption kink, virgin reader/first time, osamu wants to breed u <33, dubcon, kitchen sex? [it’s in his shop so?], fingering, pierced dick [prince albert piercing], vaginal penetration, size kink, praise kink, tummy bulge, breeding kink, slight dumbification, creampie, thigh slapping?

wc. 3k

a/n. my piece for @seita’s corrupt-a-virgin collab, thank you for letting me join!!

osamu miya likes to think he follows a strict routine. he wakes up early, shows up for his job, works, and goes home, waiting for tomorrow to arrive and the cycle to repeat itself.

but ever since you've entered his restaurant, you've become a part of his routine.

he sits behind the kitchen counter, watching in admiration how you tend to the customers. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't staring at your ass, but it’s not a lie if he doesn't say it right?

"samu?" there's that nickname again, the one you deemed him ever since that interview for the part time job. "this customer says you forgot to give her a part of her order"

"no i didn't"

"yeah, look" you approach him with the receipt in hand, pointing to a small part of the inked writing. "see?"

he can't see. or at least he can't see the receipt. he's too focused on you, pressing up against him. he knows you're not at fault, but you couldn't be that innocent.

you couldn't be innocent enough to not know the things you were doing to him, the things you were making him feel, the urges that blossomed with every lingering look and longing touch you left on his body. you just couldn't be.

right?

yet, even when his idiotic brother dropped by his shop and shamelessly started flirting with you, you, it seemed like you didn't catch onto what he was doing.

"what's the freakiest place you've ever had sex in?" the fake blond asked, and osamu would've stopped him, if he wasn't curious to hear the answer for himself. still, he doesn't drive his full attention away from the counters he's been wiping, seemingly focused on the simple task.

you chuckled awkwardly under your breath. "that's inappropriate, tsu-"

"c'mon, tell me" he bumps his elbow against yours "can't be that bad"

"no i-... i've never uhm..." osamu can tell you're stumbling and stuttering to find an answer, so he lends you a few helping words.

"'tsumu” he calls "will ya stop harrassin' my employees?"

"'m just talkin' to her samu, no need to make a big fuss" he downs the last of his food and leaves, supposedly in a sudden rush.

it doesn't seem like it’s been hours since then, but the moon hangs low, and the crickets sing outside the window in spite of the late hour. despite the passing of time, not a single word has been said between you and your boss about the conversation you had with his brother, and every minute that passes only seems to thicken the tension between the two of you.

"shit" you mumble, mostly to yourself. you didn’t expect him to shoot up from his place, bent down searching through the lower cabinets.

"watch yer mouth" he says, an evident frown on his face, where he would once smile at you and nod in greeting.

"sorry" you reply, lip pouting slightly while you cleaned off your finger with a paper towel "just got a papercut" the blood tints the paper red and you wince at the stinging sensation.

"here" he holds out his hand to examine yours, even though you already cleaned most of it off, there's still a slight trickle of blood. he wipes it out with the towel he always hangs on his shoulder.

as he cleans your hand, he can't help but think about how it'd look so pretty wrapped around his cock. it would certainly bring more relief than his fist after all this time he's spent thinking about you while stroking himself late at night.

it’s not the first time thoughts like these cloud osamu's mind, but this time he's a little less discreet about it. he stares at your hand like he wants to devour it, and you'd be a fool not to notice it.

"samu?" you call out to his faraway mind, and he snaps out of his thoughs, loosening his grip around your hand.

"right" he mumbles, clearing his throat "sorry"

"thank you" you almost whisper, if he wasn't so close to you, he probably wouldn't have heard it.

he turns and goes back to the cabinets, thinking about what you answered earlier. you'd never what? had sex? were you that uncorrupted?

it would make sense to him, and it would help ease the pain of seeing you let his brother flirt with you like he wasn't even there, but those are all selfish reasons he wants to believe, and he's too scared to ask.

apparently not scared enough.

“what were ya talkin’ about with my brother” he asks, nonchalant as ever, making your breath hitch as you turned around hesitantly.

“we were just chatting” you say, the slightest purse on your lips that tried to relieve the nervousness of the conversation.

“sorry about that” he apologizes. “he can be annoyin’ sometimes”

“oh no, he wasn’t” you lie, clenching around the table cloth you held in your hands. even if the talk had been going smoothly, you still felt on edge after the question his brother left you thinking about. “he was really friendly”

“really?” his hands find comfort in his pockets, and if you’d looked close enough, you would’ve seen the slight smirk in his lip, one that indicates how eager he is to hear what you had to say. “then why didn’ you answer his question?”

if only you knew how much it mattered to him, to know if you were a pretty untouched virgin or not. osamu miya likes to go for girls like you, college girls who look for a quick cashgrab as a part time employee, innocent little girls who unknowingly fall for his charms and next thing you know he’s ruining them with his cock.

but you feel different, you feel delicate. like a pretty piece of porcelain he might break if he continues to toy with you under his calloused hands. yet, he can’t help but think about how perfect he finds your body. perfectly ripe and ready to be filled to the brim with his seed, the perfect age to be plump and round with a child. his child.

“does it matter?”

oh, it does, especially when he pins you against the counter and grips your cheeks between his thumb and his index finger. “samu?” you ask, displaying that innocent look on your face he’d grown to hate.

“i told ya to watch yer mouth” his hands roam down your body until they grab at the back of your thighs. “now jump”

“samu i- i’ve never done anything like-“

“i said jump” hesitant with your actions, you jump and wrap your legs around his waist as he settles you on the shop counter, where he takes off your pants and runs a finger over your clothes slit.

“please” you grip his wrist and beg in hopes for him to stop, but he slaps it away, pinning them behind you with his other hand. he slides your panties down your legs and plays with your clit, circling the nub with his fingertips and watching as your expression changes from one of fear to pleasure.

“please what?” his breath shudders against your neck, where he nuzzles his head and finds comfort in your scent. he slowly inserts a finger into your hole, scanning your face and searching for any signs of discomfort, despite him practically forcing you into this position.

you’re not strong enough to answer him, too lost in the way his fingers feel inside you. you’d been too afraid to do anything by yourself, but god did it feel so good when you gave yourself up to him, slightly bucking your hips into his thrusting fingers and arching your back into his frame.

he’s fond of every little expression you make, the bite of your lips, the clench of your thighs around his hand, and the tilt of your head, willingly granting him access to the skin, all for him to mark, bite and suck. all for him to claim as his.

“d’ya like it?” he asks, putting another one of his fingers to use inside your tight walls, feeling them clench and suck his fingers back inside every time he was close to taking them out.

“yes! yes! i-i... mmh!” you can’t even finish the sentence, not only because you’re sobbing and clenching around his digits uncontrollably at the foreign yet pleasurable sensation, but also because his lips suddenly enclosed yours in a hungry kiss.

he didn’t even have to put up a fight with you, pleased to find you let him do whatever he wanted with your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours in a passionate clash of lips, until he pulls away at the feeling of your hips wildly bucking against his hand, a sign of your inevitable orgasm approaching.

“feels weird ‘samu! ‘s-‘samu please!” the implication of your sensations being new to you made his cock strained against his pants, threatening the thick fabric of his jeans to snap if he grew even harder. the tight knot in your stomach finally snaps when he curls his fingers, sending you into ecstasy as your vision blocked out and you moaned uncontrollably loud.

still, after everything, osamu hasn’t forgotten where he is, and he knows his shop isn’t a decent place to lose your virginity. so he puts you down with shaky legs and slips up your panties, catching you before your trembling thighs can treason you and make you fall.

“do ya have a car here?” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter and puts a hand on your hip, guiding you over to the door which he locks before he continues to walk to his car. the dim lighting of the parking made this the perfect spot, if he were to fuck you in his car, no one would see it. but he has self control, or at least he tells himself that.

“no, my friend usually picks me up” he hums an answer and opens the passenger door to his car.

“i live a few minutes from here” he explains “wanna come over?” he asks, fully aware that he’s taking a leap of faith and you could just refuse him. but that’s not the case, and he’s more than happy to see you hesitantly get in his car and put your bag in your lap, covering yourself as much as you can since he ‘forgot’ to give you back your shorts.

the short ride to his house is awkwardly silent, and terribly torturous. his hand had found home in your thigh, and it had only sent an ache between your legs like you’d never felt before, prompting a clench from your thighs every so often.

he wasn’t lying, he only lived ten minutes away from his shop, but the distance seemed so much longer when his lingering touch would leave you high with the need for more.

“you ready?” he asks, holding the door open for you again as he waits for you to take his hand and get out of his car. he’s quick with hoisting you up and wrapping your thighs against his hips, carrying you to his doorway and leading the way to his room. there, he gently placed you on the bed and stripped off his clothing, taking off the apron he should’ve taken off at the shop, his shirt, his pants and—

“eager?” he can see the wanting look in your eyes, he’d be a fool not to notice it. his voice only startles you out of your thoughts, enough to make you stand up and take off your shirt as well, now fully exposed to him if it weren’t for the bra covering up your tits. there’s only so much he can hold back, but right now, with those pretty puppy eyes you unintentionally give him, he just can’t help it when he takes off your bra and slightly suckles at your nipple, circling his tongue around your perky nub and watching your face warm up in embarrassment.

he takes you to his bed again, this time while he plants kisses all over your neck. he’s hungry with the way he nips and bites at the skin, leaving a trail of teeth marks that would need to be covered up in the morning. in the morning, because right now, you couldn’t be bothered to care about anything else other than the way he rutted against you.

his cock already seemed big when he hadn’t taken off his briefs, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he slipped them off and rubbed his tip against your clit, right?

he was huge, thick tip dripping precum, with a girth that looked too big to be real, pulsing against your pussy. he positions it against your drooling hole, using your slick to lube up his tip and feeling— metal?

you sit up, leaning against your elbows to see the prince albert piercing that runs along his tip, metal jewelry threatening to slip into your pussy, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“i-it won’t fit!” you kick and shake your thighs around him, only for him to put your ankles together and fold your legs over his shoulder, pinning you down and slipping in the pierced head of his cock. you wince and gasp at the sudden stretch, silenced by his mouth clashing against yours, eagerly nipping at your bottom lip, desperate to drink in all your saccharine moans.

“good girl” he praises, slipping in inch by inch of his cock into your tight virgin walls “fuck- this tight little cunt is suckin’ me in, want ma cock princess? yeah? gonna stuff ya full of me ‘til ya can’t even speak, you’ll just be a dumb baby for me”

“hurts!” your words only drive him closer to shoving himself in one smooth thrust, but he holds back, he sees how much you struggle to take barely half of him, he wants to make this good for you to. he wants to make your first time your best time, the one you’ll remember and think about if you ever fuck another man. he wants to mold your insides to fit his cock perfectly, he wants to train you to be his perfect little girl who won’t find another way to get off if she doesn’t have his cock, he wants you to depend on him to always make you feel good.

“‘s ok princess” he leans down, folding you into a mating press as he kisses your neck and slips in the last of his cock, covered in a thin layer of white sheen. “my good girl, creamin’ around me” he mumbles against your ear while he starts a slow pace into your pussy, carefully rutting his hips into you, almost afraid he would break you. “so pretty”

“please!” you sob, tears stream down your face despite his carefulness, it would break his heart, but he can feel the way your own body betrays you, clenching around him and pulling him in for more of the delicious sensation of his cock dragging against your walls. “so big! c-can’t take it!”

“sure ya can, look” he puts a hand to your tummy, guiding you to do the same as he puts his hand over yours. there’s a small bulge, that appears and disappears whenever he thrusts in and out. “you’re takin’ it so well princess, keep yer hand right there” his other hand starts working tight circles against your clit, making you throw back your head at the sudden sensation.

“no! if you do that i-!”

“what are ya gonna do? cum? clench around my cock like yer doin’ right now every time i praise ya?” you fist the sheets to your sides, anything to relieve the aching between your legs and the tight knot that keeps forming in your stomach again.

“please don’t!” you desperately paw at his wrist, only to be slapped away and for him to increase the speed of his cock, rutting into your with more force. suddenly, the head of his piercing hits a different spot, one that left you gasping for air and arching your back against the mattress. “ah! right there- right there ‘samu!”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck ya right there?” he parrots, angling his hips at the same spot over and over, abusing it until he’s sloppily thrusting into you, on the verge of cumming and spilling all his load into you. “my pretty girl, moanin’ like a bitch in heat, all because i’m makin’ ya feel good”

“yes ‘samu! please please, please m-make me feel good! wanna cum, please!” fresh tears roll down your cheeks as you scream and beg for him, unwillingly rutting your hips against him as you cum around his cock, your high too much for your sensitive body as you whine uncontrollably when he doesn’t stop. you’re too overstimulated to say a word, gone too dumb on his cock to even realize that you’re babbling little nonsense words about how good you feel, and how much you want him.

“dumb lil’ thing” he says, giving one sharp, final thrust before he empties his load between your legs, deep inside you, careful not to move you too much in fear of his cum spilling out of your clenching hole.

he’s right, you are a dumb little thing, because as soon as he pulls out you’re desperately bucking your hips, blindly searching for him in hope he would fill up the sudden emptiness in your pussy, unintentionally spilling all his hard work between your thighs.

“no!” he grunts, slapping your thigh and grounding you to the mattress as you wince in pain, dark color blossoming at the skin where he’d placed the spank. “look what you’ve done, bad fuckin’ girl” he says, the sudden tone shift sends a tinge of fear all over your body, and you’re reduced to nothing but a kin to a stray puppy, a terrible look of guilt in your eyes, even if you don’t realize what you’ve done wrong.

“look at the mess you made” he mumbles, flipping you over and placing ass up “now i’m gonna have to fill ya up all over again”

©️ kaijime 2021 | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost