#I never met the guy who died so no judgement

[estellamiraiauthor]

Remembering that time when I was employed as an expendable nobody at a huge international company and one of their Big Shots just randomly died in a freak accident while on vacation and thinking like… that’s not the be-all and end-all of life?

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

[kyouka-supremacy]

The thing about how Atsushi deals with Akutagawa is. Atsushi has always been terrified of retailing against his oppressors: to him, his oppressors were always in positions of power that he found impossible to rebel against. Akutagawa, on the other hand, was the first person Atsushi met who was socially accepted to fight back against. Akutagawa was presented to him as the big bad guy, everyone's evil enemy. Atsushi's got personal beef with him for how he treated Kyouka (which is very important for Atsushi, because if he never had it within him to stand for himself, at least he can stand for others). The person Atsushi looks up to the most repeatedly and unapologetically mistreats Akutagawa. Then mistreating Akutagawa must be allowed, right?

It's truly remarkable how despite the guess one would take judging from their good side / evil side affilations, more often than not it's Atsushi going for Akutagawa's throat than the other way round. Sure, Akutagawa threatens to kill Atsushi all the time– but that's exactly the point‚ he never actually follows through‚ and his real actions actually end up telling us his intentions are quite the opposite (re: “I won't kill you today because you look miserable” *saves Atsushi's life* *saves Atsushi's life* *dies to save Atsushi's life*). On the contrary, Atsushi's ALWAYS trying to attack Akutagawa both verbally and physically. Remember that time in chapter 51 when Dazai was keeping them separate? Back then, Akutagawa very much wasn't the one actively trying to attack the other. Not to mention the “You fight 'cos you want to be feared– that's far more worthless in my book” and of course the “It's no wonder Dazai-san chose to abandon you and disappear”. There's even the “if a fight is what you want, then I'll take you on” like lmao, of course you will. The thing is, Atsushi has always found it socially acceptable to retail against, loathe, fight and hurt Akutagawa no-guilt-attached like he never had the chance to with any other abuser. Please keep in mind how thanks to Dead Apple we know that the only other time Atsushi ever fought back someone who was hurting him, it was a most instinctive and involuntary reaction that ended up with him killing them and which gave him several trauma and unresolved self-hatred and feeling of guilt for life.

But hurting Akutagawa, that's peer approved. And it sounds quite cruel, and Atsushi is a fundamentally selfish character, yet it must have come off as so refreshing and even liberating for him to finally have someone he can openly hate, someone he could drop the facade of the polite, harmless guy in front of. That's why I can actually find it believable that Atsushi would, very subconsciously, look forward to fight against Akutagawa; as a way to let off steam, you know? A chance to finally stop acting and start behaving like his true self, determined, brave, protective, a bit of a prick. Not to mention, fights against Akutagawa seemingly always end up as a self-esteem boosts for Atsushi in a way or the other. That's why I wonder: if Akutagawa is the only person Atsushi can be himself with, if he's the only one he can act natural around without feeling he has to put up a front for; what about when Atsushi will stop hating him? Which doesn't sound that unlikely, I mean, after chapter 88 and everything. I'm not saying he's going to forgive Akutagawa for everything he's ever done but like... The perception Atsushi has of him must have changed to an extent, his judgement shifted at least a tiny bit. Then, Atsushi will be left with only one person he can freely be himself with, and he doesn't even hate him that much anymore. Just thinking about that.

[brightlyburningstar]

heres why i think runt is going to die in e11 of wonderlust

(spoilers for the past couple episodes ahead)

ok so before i get into the lore reasons of why lets look at this logically

according to the update stream on the jrwi patreon, the crew said they filmed e1-7 when they met up in person in april and we KNOW that e11 was filmed prior to the deadplate stream in july. now we are in NOVEMBER and according to the patreon update they had only filmed up to e13 in OCTOBER.

So, the calendar looks like...

April : 1-7

May - June : 8-11

July - October+ : 12-13+

now why would they take THAT LONG to film more. Grizz talked about how the group is/was busy and had other projects but also remember that in that time period of the summer, judgement was filmed (i would think at least) and Charlie (who's talked about most about being busy) IS IN JUDGEMENT so maybe JUST MAYBE they took time after runt died to process it and figure shit out. i remember this one grizzly Patreon post talking about how seriously he takes character deaths and how after a character died he takes time to think about what to do and such things so POSSIBLY GUYS THIS COULD TOTALY BE THAT. not to mention the deadplate stream comments than grizz and bizzly kept making about dead rats and runt.

anyways in cannon why she could be dead

runt is heavily mentioned to be chronically ill. whether is the cough she had in the beginning (which I'm not sure if it was grizz getting over being sick or smth but who knows) or the leg bracers she very obviously has something wrong with her health wise. then she breathed in a fuck ton of smoke and then while having fucked up lungs and everything was thrown into a cold environment she has never been exposed to before. these factors alone could cause somebody to yk not be in the best shape but also remember she just broke out of a prison and was INJECTED/STABBED WITH A TRACKING COLLAR AROUND HER LEG. AND SHES BEEN ON THE RUN FOR THREE DAYS WITH LITTLE TO NO BREAKS TRAVELING ALL AROUND WONDER. ALSO MAYBE THE BITE FROM THE MITE IN E1 GOT INFECTED OR IT HAD SMTH IN IT THAT IT INFECTED HER WITH??? there's so many different things that could have done this and i'm genuinely considering rewatching the whole show and taking notes on everything to figure this out. anyways if u guys have anything to add feel free to. sigh.

[cryptidorchid]

The other day I read the-somwthing’s life series analysis of the Scott-Joel rivalry. And so I decided to write my own analysis on Scott’s view of Joel, which was inspired by “I think [Scott] sees Joel as some sort of embodiment of senseless murder” from the-somwthing’s analysis

Scott Pretty Consistently Thinks the Worst of Joel

From the very start, in Third Life, Scott sees Joel as a force of destruction mostly.

Third Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 40:09-40:14 After they find out Joel burned their wall and tried to kill Scott Jimmy: We need a reason why he’s done it Scott: The reason is just because it’s Joel. I don’t know what you expect.

After Joel burns down his wall and tries to kill him, Scott explains Joel’s behavior as just an inherent fact of Joel. Joel causes chaos and destruction. That is just who Joel is to Scott.

This perception of Joel never changes throughout the Life Series.

It shows up in Limited Life.

Limited Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 7 - 26:42-27:05 Scott and Pearl walk upon Joel fighting the Clockers Scott: Hi, Pearl Pearl: Hello! Scott: We’re just watching this? Pearl: Yep Death messages appear saying Joel killed Grian and Scar Scott: Oh, Grian was slain by Jo- gasp Joel: Oh, no! Gosh! Scott starts shooting at Joel Scott: Joel, you killed Grian? Joel: Guys, guys, guys, guys! Scott: Joel! Scott lands the killing shot against Joel Pearl: Joel’s about to be out of the season. That’s why he killed Grian Scott: Oh

In this case, Scott assumes that Joel killing a teammate was a betrayal and joins the fight against Joel at least partially because of that. Scott is like the king of self-sacrifice plays but he didn’t even consider that Joel’s situation could be the same. This implies to me that Scott still doesn’t think Joel can be trusted not to attack the people around him, no matter how close with him you are.

It comes up in Secret Life too.

Secret Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 8 - 6:32-6:40 Joel: I’m good, I’m good, not up to anything mischievous in any way whatsoever Scott: See, the thing is: Even if you weren’t red, you always are up to something mischievous. Nothing has changed

Scott literally says nothing has changed! I could not make this up! Scott is just constantly suspicious of Joel and always has been.

And this manifests in an interesting way in Double Life.

In Double Life, Joel and Etho die while playing a fishing rod game with Grian, Pearl, and Impulse. Scott goes to collect their stuff and put it in a chest.

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 4 - 24:25-24:32 Pearl: It wasn’t intentional! It wasn’t intentional! Grian: I’m sure they’ll understand Scott: You’ve met Joel and Etho, right?

Scott saying this, combined with him collecting Joel and Etho’s stuff for them, paints a picture of Scott trying to appease Joel.

For one thing, him collecting Joel and Etho’s stuff is incredibly strange for Double Life. When Ren and BigB died near Scott, Scott ran over to steal their stuff, not give it back. When Joel and Etho died the first time, Scott laughed about it because they had been “gloating so much and stealing from everyone.” But now that they’re red, he’s suddenly quite helpful to them specifically.

For another, Scott must think Joel is especially unreasonable since Joel has no reason to be mad at Scott here. Scott was totally uninvolved with the fishing rod game. In fact, he was the one person (as far as I remember) arguing against it. So, the fact that despite all that, he still felt the need to appease Joel and Etho, really implies that Scott sees Joel as both unreasonable and violent and that he’s scared of that.

(He also said Etho but I don’t know that Scott has enough negative interactions with Etho to make that judgement so I think he’s just lumping Etho in with Joel, especially since I can’t remember him ever talking about Etho this way outside of associations with Joel)

This leads me to my next section:

Scott used to be Scared of Joel

Scott's reaction to Joel and Etho going red implies that, by Double Life, Scott is scared of Joel. Honestly, that tracks.

In Last Life, it is so clear that Joel, specifically Third Life Joel, is Scott’s image of a scary red name. For one thing, Scott has an intense aversion to the idea of red names having dogs.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 5 - 17:38-17:47 Scott: Oh, there’s a dog here. Whose dog [...?]? Do we kill the dog? Pearl: I don’t wanna kill the doggy. The doggy hasn’t done nothing wrong. Scott: But what if it’s, like, Joel’s? Or Grian’s?

He finds one (1) tamed dog in the wild and wants to kill it just in case it’s Joel’s or Grian’s. Pearl convinces him not to in this instance, but when he finds a pack of dogs in a bunker, he kills those. He doesn’t even know either of the red names have dogs at this point.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 5 - 25:50-26:07 Scott: We also stumbled across Grian’s secret bunker that had about 40 wolves. There should now be about 4 because I burnt them all alive. Martyn: Good job Mumbo: That's good Scott: Some of them tp’ed to him, so he does have some. I'm trying to find when they're not at their base, so I can go in and finish the job

He’s so insistent in this killing all the red names’ dogs thing that even after killing a bunch of them, he wants to go back and take out the rest. Granted, dogs have attacked people a lot over the course of the Life series; you might think this response is reasonable, until you remember that in Third Life, Joel’s dogs (and Joel for that matter) killed no one. They were totally ineffective. This is not the most logical fear to have.

(Also, I find it funny that the amount of dogs has increased from the last time he told this story to Lizzie, when there was only 30 dogs)

More than that, Scott is unusually gung ho about the whole murdering dogs thing. No one is as insistent about it as him and most people will show some guilt or disgust about burning dogs alive.

The second thing Scott seems to be worried about a lot is someone coming to burn down his walls.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 2 - 4:32-4:35 Scott: I won't use a wooden wall. I learned my mistake last time

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 2 - 17:27-17:31 Scott: Jimmy, did you not learn last time not to do wooden walls? Like, I want to burn these down for the sake of it

And to be fair, unlike the dogs, Joel burning his wall actually had an appreciable negative effect. It makes sense that Scott would be wary of having to rebuild his wall again just because someone had a flint and steel. But he never stops bringing it up, even after Last Life.

Double Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 3 - 16:57-17:01 Scott: I know you're probably thinking, Scott, what are you going to build the wall out of? It has to be something strong and not flammable. No, I'm building it out of wood. Is it a smart idea? Probably not, but I'm still doing it.

Secret Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 1 - 23:21-23:26 Scott: Anytime I build anything out of wood, I just imagine Joel coming and burning it down

So, Scott worries about red names having wolves and coming to set his base on fire, both things that Joel did in Third Life. I could talk about why this is: Joel was the first person to try to kill Scott or attack his base in Third Life. Joel was again the first person to attack him in Last Life and, this time, succeeded right before becoming the first red name. And then Joel stayed a red name for nearly the entirety of Last Life. It makes sense for Joel to seem like the largest threat for the whole of Last Life.

So, it makes sense that, going into Double Life, Scott would be wary of Joel coming after him again. And in Double Life, Scott was basically proven right because Joel is the only person who murders him (one of them was by killing Pearl but same difference).

And Joel managed to kill Scott by chasing him down. Which becomes a bit of a pattern. Joel kills Pearl (and Scott by proxy) by chasing her down. Joel chases Scott and Pearl across the server twice before eventually killing Scott. And then when Limited Life happens, Joel starts chasing Scott to try to kill him again.

In Limited Life, Scott basically admits that he’s scared of Joel specifically.

Limited Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 6 - 23:40-23:49 Scott: The way I currently stand is the only person I’m really scared of is Joel. Joel is the unhinged one who will just kill me. Pearl and BigB, I feel like I can just kind of run away from.

He specifically says he’s only scared of Joel. To be fair, he’s naming Joel out of a list of, like, three people that he thinks might be a threat. Because he’s on good terms with the Clockers and TIES, he has a deal with Jimmy, and Grian is still yellow, which leaves three people.

But I do think that his explanation sheds some light on why Scott is scared of Joel specifically. Joel’s “unhinged.” Joel could attack at any moment. Joel will “just kill.” Other people hesitate to kill. Other people feel guilty. Other people can be persuaded to stop. Other people can be avoided when they try to kill him. Other people Scott can just “run away from.”

Which I feel was exemplified best when Joel killed Pearl in Double Life (which is ironic that it’s not even one of the times Joel killed Scott directly but honestly, I feel like that makes the moment even more potent for Scott because Scott was totally helpless in this situation, he could not have avoided that death), because Pearl went to give Joel back the chestplates she stole and he kills her without hesitation and later yells,”You think YOU’RE UNHINGED, PEARL?” Joel neither hesitated nor felt guilty about killing Pearl, even when a lot of people would hesitate to kill someone just over stolen items, especially if the person was trying to give the items back. And I think that’s what really scared Scott about Joel, a fight with Joel was very hard to avoid.

In Limited Life, Nosy Neighbors weren’t particularly violent so as long as Scott didn’t start it, a fight with them was easily avoidable. Scott eventually struck a deal with Jimmy so Jimmy can clearly be persuaded. Team TIES were hard to avoid a fight with but even after killing Scott, they let him join them in their attack on Bad Boys and Scott made the time back up in kills, so they’re not hard to work with (Honestly, even when they were trying to kill Scott, they were kind of apologetic about it). Even Grian was easier to avoid a fight with than Joel, because Grian relied on traps and tnt, meaning if you avoided walking into one of his traps/under him when he was on Skynet, his threat level diminished by a lot and you could basically walk up to him without much fear. Meanwhile, Joel often attacks Scott on sight, chases him down, and won’t be deterred. Joel being out to get Scott specifically and unrepentantly violent about it made him scary.

However, I think Limited Life killed a lot of that fear when Scott killed Joel 5 times and Joel killed Scott 0 times.

And sure, Scott has killed Joel before. He took Joel out of the series in Last Life, but even when Scott permakilled Joel, it wasn’t triumphant so much as it was stressful.

Last Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 9 - 32:24-32:27 Right after killing Joel Ren: Yeah, well, that was just carnage all around Scott: That was scary

Limited Life was different, because for the first time, Scott had fun killing Joel.

Limited Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 7 - 22:41-22:56 Joel is walking up a hill while Bdubs and Scott approach from the top of the hill Bdubs: Hey, Joel! Joel: Oh! Hey, guys! How’s it going? Joel turns and runs back the way he came. Scott laughs. Scott: Hi, Joel! Good! How are you, Joel? Joel: Just fine, fine, fine. Just fine Scott: You sure? You’re feeling fine, Joel? Scott starts shooting at Joel Joel: I’m feeling fine Scott: You feeling great? You sure? Bdubs: Are we killing him? Scott: I kind of want to after everything he’s done Bdubs: Let’s do it! Okay!

In this kill, it immediately starts off with Scott taunting Joel and then he and Bdubs only start chasing Joel because Scott wants to. This kill is purely for fun and while chasing him, Scott continues to taunt him (“There’s pufferfish around here! Be careful\~”) and after killing him, reiterates that this was for personal satisfaction (“That felt good!”).

And when it came to his other kills on Joel, he seemed fairly happy about those as well. In all of these kills, Scott never seemed scared or worried. Joel tried to kill Scott multiple times and never succeeded. Scott tried to kill him and succeeded 5 different times (There's also the fun role reversal of now Scott's the one chasing Joel in a couple of these kills). It’s hard to be scared of Joel after that. Ultimately, Limited Life changed the game for Scott because fighting with Joel became less scary and more fun.

Which leads into Secret Life, where Scott isn’t as scared of Joel anymore so he feels comfortable acknowledging the fact that Joel has it out for him personally.

Secret Life - Scott’s POV - Episode 9 - 7:00-7:03 When Gem brings up an alliance with the Mounders Scott: I mean my main issue was Joel so if Joel's going to choose not to go for me...

It’s easier to accept a rival/nemesis when it doesn’t feel like a constant threat on his life, but rather something that he can handle easily. Which is where they are now: Scott’s just not that scared of Joel anymore.

[skullsandp0tions]

the life of an outlaw is a lonely one.

(Javier Escuella x John Marston.)

CW: Alright guys so there is a lot of kissing here, and so much fluff. There’s mentions of body dysmorphia, anxiety attack, body mutilation mentioned but not committed, comfort, slight suggestive themes towards the end. And, Divorced! John Marston.

Writers note : I wanted to update my writing style a bit since I haven’t been writing for quite a bit so I’d appreciate any feedback! Also, I don’t have the ability to reply to comments or messages sadly but that is currently being dealt with !

Enjoy.

The life of an outlaw is lonely when you feel out of place. The occupation or lifestyle isn’t exactly known for its happiness and love, usually labeled as countless negative words. Whatever you can think of, chances are the outlaws have been called it.

John never intended to be an outlaw, sure his dad was an ass who died in a bar fight and he never met his prostitute mother, he got into the gang early in his life but he’d never planned to be there. As a kid he wanted to work with people, but he went the entirely opposite way. Waking up was a chore, looking himself in the mirror much worse. Having to see the scars etched into his skin on the body he couldn’t recognize, paired with the dirt under his nails and bags under his eyes, was exhausting. He always threw on the same-ish clothes, hoping they’d cover up the parts he couldn’t face, the parts of his body he’d want to carve out with a hunting knife if he could. He’d found that the black covered him up best, so that’s what he stuck with.

Javier was one of the few in the gang who seemed to notice when he was off, even if John never actually spoke about it. He tried to just pretend it was his shitty sleep schedule fucking him over but Javier knew. And John could tell. He could see it in the way the Mexican would glance at him in between his guitar strumming, could feel it in his rough palms when Javier would pat his shoulder. But unlike the usual condescending feeling that would build in his gut, Javier’s worry felt different.

There was no laughter or mocking, no judgemental glances or annoyed scoffs, just attention. And worry. It felt weird, distant, uncomfortable in its very own sense of the word. But at the same time it felt comforting, like a kind of support he wasn’t used to, the kind of support he hadn’t felt in way too long if ever.

Arthur and Dutch would try and help in their own way but it wasn’t the same . It wasn’t Javier. They could pat his back but they didn’t leave their hand on his back as if leaving a hand print etched into his spine. They didn’t put his head on their shoulders and just let him stay there. When the two of them comforted him it felt forced, awkward even. But Javier did it as if it was like breathing, as if comforting and caring for him was the easiest thing he’d ever done. And it was.

To Javier holding John was like breathing. Being allowed, no, honored to hear his breathing even for a second while he kept his head on his shoulder felt like finding an entire bag of gold bars. It was like listening to the melodies he could strum with his guitar when he heard him talk.

———————————

As the morning sun pushed its way onto the sky , bullying the moon aside to reclaim its place, John was sitting on his cot. The tent surrounding him like barriers from everything outside, but also stopping anything inside to get out. A safe way to start his morning. But even so he kept his gun by the cot on the ground, letting him quickly grab it if needed. Getting onto his feet felt like swimming up to the surface of the ocean, not that he’d know what that felt like. Sluggishly walking to the mirror in his tent, getting a short glance at the unrecognizable face in the small reflection as he put on his black everyday over-shirt, looking down at his body as he buttoned it up at the very top.

Even when he pulled on his pants he didn’t look at the mirror, trying to extend his peace of mind for just a bit longer before finally looking into the reflection and sighing. The scars on his face were still there, not that he expected them to randomly vanish with a good nights sleep, but it was a nice thought. His gray eyes stayed glued to his face, his hand moving up to slowly touch the scars on his cheek before sighing and laying the mirror down on the barrel and grabbing his brown vest and then stepping out of his tent. The morning sun cascading across his face as he put on his hat.

The camp was bustling with faint conversation and laughter, the usual loud voices lowered to let the camp members who still were sleeping, continue to do so. It was nice to not be deafened by Sean’s loud cheering or Bill’s yelling. Though he knew that would change soon enough. As he sat down at the campfire it felt like all eyes. including his own, were on him. As if even breathing was a crime.

“Y’look like shit, partner” Uncle spoke, chuckling as he drank a part of his beer despite the early hour. John scoffed in reply but the sinking feeling rose in his gut regardless. Did he really? Sure he looked shitty always but did he look shittier than normal? With one shared glance from Javier, John got back up, walking away from the campfire. He tried to make it less obvious that he was genuinely bothered, but it seemed to have been noticed anyways as someone struck uncle on the back of the head. He didn’t know where or how far he went, but he stopped when he could no longer hear the voices at camp. Slowly he sat down by the riverbank’s edge, close enough to see the way the water rushed beneath the rising sun, but not close enough to be able to touch it. If he got too close he’d see his reflection, and that wouldn’t do him any good.

His breathing already felt like a challenge, like someone had his lungs in two iron pipes, not allowing them to expand far enough. He was getting dizzy, everything was spinning, his hand gripping his shirt after tearing off his vest to try and get some more room to breathe. But even that did nothing. And the lack of air freaked him out further, he even tried to splash some water in his face but even so he felt like he was drowning. Was he dying? Was this really it?

“Hey, hey Cálmate” The sound of a very familiar voice struck his ears, but he couldn’t bring himself to look towards the sound or think about who it was, too busy trying to get his brain to work with his lungs. He needed air.

The feeling of Javier’s arms wrapping around him caused him to tense, Javier saw him? He could see his pathetic panicking? This was so embarrassing. He attempted to shove the Mexican away from him but only got met with a tighter grip.

“you’re not pushing me away, Compañero.” he spoke almost sternly, and for the first time in whoever knows how long , it didn’t piss him off. No, instead John moved his hand from his rapidly beating heart to the back of Javier’s shirt, the grip almost threatening to break the fabric.

“I can’t- I can’t breathe-“ It felt pathetic to speak with such a broken voice and such desperation, but Javier didn’t judge, and john knew he wouldn’t. Which was why he was even talking or letting him help in the first place. Abigail was the only one John had allowed to see him like this, the only one he allowed to hold him. But now there was Javier.

But Javier didn’t say anything. Instead he put his hand on the back of John’s head, cradling it against his shoulder, his other hand rubbing John’s back slowly. He didn’t say anything. Why didn’t he say anything? Was he disappointed?

He didn’t seem disappointed, he wasn’t tense or sighing, not trying to tell him to ‘man up’. He just sat there and listened, rubbed his back and just nodded.

“I’m here”

Javier more-so whispered. John didn’t realize at first but Javier had pressed his lips against the top of his head, and despite the initial feeling of confusion, he didn’t mind. He’d think he’d be disgusted like the usual man at the sight. But he wasn’t.

If anything it felt nice, warm even. But he didn’t need Javier to know that. And before he even knew it himself, he was breathing slow and steady, in the normal pattern like he normally did.

But he didn’t want to move, and Javier made no attempt to move either. Just holding him as the sound of the riverbank slowly flowing beside them. It was nice, paired with the morning sun and slightly chillier air felt like a warm bed.

“Better?” Javier asked after a moment of silence, but John couldn’t bring himself to speak, instead nodding slowly to reply, to which the Mexican chuckled. “Bueno” The Mexican replied with a small sigh.

“you kissed me head” John eventually spoke, his voice slightly gruffer than usual, yet still low. Almost as if uttering the words would make the situation actual, real.

“Sí. Did you not want me to?” Javier replied reluctantly, making sure to question the other man’s words. The lack of a reply made him uncomfortable. Had he offended him? John was one of , if not, the most important people in his life. “I don’t know.” John finally whispered, and Javier felt himself ease up slightly. So he didn’t hate him.

“not sure? Did it feel bad?” Javier questioned, his hand on John’s back mindlessly continuing to stroke slowly, keeping the soothing action going despite there no longer being any need for it. “No” He whispered once more, and Javier couldn’t help the butterflies forming in his stomach. It was nice to not have to worry about disgusting him. Hopefully it’d stay that way.

“Good, then I’ll do it again” Javier replied, kissing John’s head once more and earning a small sigh, causing him to smile even wider. “¿Bueno?” he teased slightly, his hand on John’s back pausing a bit as he leaned back slightly, making the other man look at him. Javier took note to John’s slightly rosy cheeks and his smile grew slightly teasing.

“What?” John questioned with a frown, his embarrassment growing at Javier’s staring. He felt his body burn once more. He knew he was ugly but the staring and almost mocking expression on Javier’s face made him want to run away and hide under a rock for the rest of his life.

“John. Can I kiss you?” The question caused every thought or automatic action his brain was producing to halt, gray eyes wide as he stared at the Mexican man. “What?” he quickly questioned, needing to make sure he heard him right. But even if he wasn’t 100% sure, his cheeks and the tip of his ears grew rosier, the feeling of Javier’s hand on his cheek only making it worse. “Sí, can I kiss you?” Javier repeated as if his question was nothing different from asking how his day was, but to John it was like getting hit by a truck of ‘what if’s’ and embarrassment. But also flattery. Javier wanted to kiss him? Out of all the women in the world- and men obviously, Javier wanted to kiss him.

Javier took John’s silence as slightly endearing, seeing the cogs turn behind his eyes, which made him smile slightly softer. At the silence, despite his morals (which he lacked), he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his friend’s lips, smiling as he felt the other man practically melt into it. Javier took it as an added bonus to feel John sigh against his lips. He took the chance of moving closer to him at his compliance, feeling John’s hand on his hip.

Javier had kissed a lot of people, always been the one in control and never wanted it any different. But feeling John’s lips against his made something in his brain crack. A sigh leaving his lips when he felt his back get pressed against the grass, lips slowly molding and moving against the other’s as he gripped the back of his shirt, forcing him to stay close. John had only ever really kissed Abigail, and some girl in an alley behind the saloon in valentine, so feeling Javier not only kiss him but enjoy kissing him was like being handed a trophy for being amazing. As they broke apart, John remained above Javier, his upper arms on the grass beside the Mexican’s head as they caught their breath, a string of saliva connecting their lips.

“Eres tan guapo” Javier whispered breathlessly,

(ts: you’re so handsome)

and despite the fact that john didn’t understand his words, he felt himself get hotter all over again. “Translate” he spoke shortly to which Javier chuckled, arms wrapping around John’s shoulders and pulling him back down. The Mexican managed to flip them over so he was straddling John’s lap, hand ghosting down his clothed torso.

“you’re so handsome” he repeated in english, causing John to flinch slightly. Handsome? He looked like shit , how was he handsome? That coming from Javier was either a ton of bullshit or the biggest compliment ever. Cause Javier? Javier was handsome. Especially now, on top of John, with the morning sun cascading across his face and his lips slightly agape in a small smirk. John swore he could die right then and there.

“I’m really not” the words caused Javier to pause. “Yes, you are.” he spoke almost sternly, leaning down slightly. “If you weren’t, i probably wouldn’t have kissed you” he spoke, placing a chaste kiss to John’s lips before he could argue with him. Then moving his lips to his scarred jaw, kissing over the old wolf scars and then down to his neck.

“Especially with these scars.” Javier spoke against his neck, causing John to tense slightly. “I’ll kiss all of them til you believe me , cariño” Javier spoke against his neck once more, reveling in the way John sighed at the feeling of his open mouthed kisses.

“I’ll show you just how handsome you are”

[running2reanimation]

Interview

Knowledge is power.

Aqua leaned against the counter, bored out of her mind. Never a good sign when, three hours into an 8 hour shift, one has nothing left to do.

Other than wait on the late night customers, of which there was… one.

That Purple guy who’s been coming in with Mr. King. The one who would be about Gold’s age if Gold hadn’t…

When had he come in? And it was interesting that he was alone for once. That was a first.

He approached the counter with a bag of chips and a bottle of one of those fancy lemonades.

“Good evening, thank you for shopping at Wants, did you find everything you were looking for tonight?” She put on her customer service voice and bright smile.

“Not quite.”

Oh please, oh please don’t hit on me…

“I wanted to know a little bit more about King, if you had the time.”

She narrowed her eyes, “What did you want to know?”

“Just… stuff, I guess. He doesn’t talk much about himself, or his life before he met me and I guess I’m just curious as to why.”

“And why are you asking me?”

“You are literally the only other person he really mentions or talks about from before. Does he not have other friends?”

“I mean, he might’ve had some work friends, but Mr. King’s always been a loner.”

“So is King his last name then?”

“He doesn’t have a last name, I don’t think. Gold didn’t have one so I assume Mr. King probably doesn’t either.”

“So what’s with the formality?” He opened up his chips as he leaned against the opposite side of the counter.

“I’ve known him since I was in diapers, but I guess it started when I went to grade school and I thought Mr, Ms and Mx were how all kids referred to adults that weren’t their parents, I guess it just stuck,” She sighed as she realized he’d gotten her talking against her better judgement.

“Was there ever any Ms, Mx or Mr King the second?”

“Haha, he’s been single for as long as I’ve known him.”

“So then where did Gold come from?”

“He had a partner before I was born, apparently she died giving birth to him. I’m not surprised he wouldn’t really mention that, technically I only know it because my mom told me.”

“…” Purple’s expression went dark for a moment before he opened up his lemonade, “You were one of Gold’s friends, right? What was he like?”

“I was his best friend. He was… funny and charming, everyone at school loved him. He was always helping people and was always willing to go the extra mile for someone. But he was also very… reckless and impulsive. I had to talk him out of a lot of dangerous things growing up.”

“When’s his birthday?”

“King’s or Gold’s?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Uh, Mr. King’s birthday is April 3rd, and Gold’s was… December 3rd.”

“Huh, both on the third of the month, what a coincidence.”

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have remembered Mr. King’s if it weren’t for that. I don’t think he ever really celebrated it.”

“…And the anniversary of Gold’s accident?”

“Oh, that’s coming right up, on the 21st.”

“Ah, that explains that then,” Purple said cryptically, crumpling up the empty chip bag and straightening up to go.

“Wait! It’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Purple shrugged, draining the last of his lemonade and tossing the bottle in the bin.

“…How did you meet Mr. King?”

Purple looked at her thoughtfully as he held the door open, debating what to say, if he should even say anything at all. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and he couldn’t quite read her expression beyond that.

“Not to go into too much detail, we met when we were both in some really bad places in our lives. And we both helped pull each other out of it. Now we’re just trying to figure out our new normal, y’know?”

Aqua nodded, “I guess I get it. I was just worried you were… using him, I guess.”

Purple couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It had really been the other way around, but he wasn’t gonna tell her that, “If I was using him, I sure wouldn’t have admitted it just because you asked. It’s nice that you’re worried about him though.”

“Just… be good to him. I’m sure he’s done some awful things while he was grieving, but he’s a decent man.”

“I know. Thanks for the answers, Aqua. See you later,” He stepped out the door and into the night, leaving Aqua tangled in her memories for the night.

[apphiarothowrites]

Modern MAS Musician Au ]

this has been poking my brain, will I ever write it who knows?

Ace Punk Rock; Machine gun Kelly- very mainstream and adored for his music

Sabo alternative punk; YUNGBLUD - less mainstream but very popular in the UK and with lgbt/marginalized groups

Now Ace and Sabo have collaborated and have some.. feelings but that ain't gonna be looked at too closely cause both of them are focused on their careers. Anyway they end up getting contacted by Whitebeard records (a huge deal, Edward newgate was known as the father of rock for a reason)

SO they come in and are met by Newgate himself, Basically the deal is they are to collaborate in a album to re-launch Di-Angels Return.

Now for those who don't Know Di-angel or for those who were fans Marci Diangelo was a HUGE deal back in the day. Like Joan Jett mixed with Lady gaga. The woman was the beginning of the punk rock scene, aggressively making out with both genders for paparazzi and generally being an absolute menace. Ace and Sabo of course say yes, (Sabo was inspired to start his own music career by her and Ace just thinks she's neat.)

Anyway the day comes where they are supposed to meet Her, Di- Angel, Marci and of course Sabo is kinda fanboying and Ace may or may not be very jealous cause come on, she was hot back in the day but she's in her 40s now. Instead of the busty blonde who once screamed into the microphone about flying away. They are met with a blonde man in a leather jacket.

"Uhm, excuse me?" Ace wants to be irritated but damn the guy is smokin hot. "We were supposed to be meeting Di-angel here."

The man blinks sleepy blue eyes, "yeah, I know."

Sabo bites his lip eye twitching, "You- Marci, we are meeting with Marci Diangelo, the singer."

The blonde man sticks a cig in his mouth, the corner quirking up. "Just said, I know. But you obviously are a bit behind the times." The man stands towering over both of them, "I go by Marco now, call me Marci again and I'll send you both through the door got it?"

Oh shit, fuck yeah, this is GOOD SHIT right here raccooon.

Ever since Pops suggested relaunching Di-Angel, Marco's been nothing but a roll of anxiety in human skin. While their family was fairly accepting, and the punk-rock community as a whole generaly was too, the larger scene is...well. Not quite the same. With most of the people of Marco's generation reacting across the entire spectrum from acceptance to hard rejection, Marco honestly didn't think it would be a good idea.

Yes, his voice and range dropped by a few octaves. Yes his old favorite dresses didn't fit the same any more (not that he wanted to put on most of them any more, just the shiny leather number but he had to get it tailored for the new dimension of his chest and hips). Yes, he's different now and that difference is something that he's gotten shit for from people he thought were friends and something that people he thought hated him were supportive of. It's been a roller coaster of strangeness and that was before Pops suggested relaunching his music career.

He left music because he knew the reactions would be. Mixed. once things got off the ground for his transition. Music never left him-Pops has multiple videos of him humming melodies and tapping beats from doctors' offices and one in a hospital bed-but the scene? He assumed the scene left him well behind.

Then Pops came to him with this insane idea and told him that these two young pups, rising stars and rough diamonds the both of them, were jumping and chomping at the bit. Marco didn't know what to think. He told Pops he'd reserve judgement until they met, but even then the hotcold churning in his stomach of anxiety was steadily eating his confidence of this whole thing working.

Then he meets them and despite the fact that neither of them knew who he was now, they were adorably eager just as Pops said. And, just as Pops said, they're talented if a bit raw. Unrefined, somehow. Both have a similar feel-rough voices in a slightly high medium range, but what really grabs Marco's attention is that they both actually play. Something that's fallen out of fashion in newer bands, that their lead vocalists know what to do with a guitar in hand, they both pick up an axe during the experimental jam session and they aren't too bad either. They know classic riffs and stings, whole lead lines from classic and punk rock staples.

Then something of a miracle happens. Ace picks up a bass and smacks out a fairly simple beat on 5, jumping octaves, and Sabo picks up Marco's old stage piece and. Oh.

That's the lead and bass of "I Feel Fine" and Marco's nothing if not a perfectionist for the classics. He grabs the mic they rigged up for his studio, coughs to clear his throat, and-

Ace does something to the bass beat, a lick or two to change things juuuuust a little and Sabo slips a few 16th and 32nd notes here and there, little twangs to change the key down a half step and suddenly its not The Beatles any more, it's something a little rougher, a little less refined, it's something from the back alleys of a queer bar that Marco used to dress butch for where he got called a good man for the first time. It's like being in love, if love were a dirty suckerpunch and a cigarette after-if love was two men who might not always be men-if love was a little less straight.

That ends up being the second song on the album a year later, a fucking Beatles cover that rockets them right to the top of the charts in multiple countries and forces Marco back into the spotlight no matter how much he tries pushing the younger stars forward and blames them for the majority of their sound. Three vocalists who trade off is definitely strange, especially since Marco is....well, not 'Marci' any more.

But it works, somehow Pops' insane idea doesn't explode in their faces, and if there's maybe a little charged something that happens in the limo ride home from their first awards show, something that's been building for months and months over heated eye contact and falling asleep on each other in the studio and appreciative whistling during the set and costume set-up of music videos, well.

That's their business and nobody else's. And if that charged something results in Ace stumbling down into Marco's kitchen in the middle of the night only to scream at Thatch who's in the tradition of making Marco breakfast after award shoes (started before Di-Angel and 'Marci' ever got big), who then screams right back at him which draws both Sabo and Marco down to see what the goddamn noise is about. Well.

That's also their business and nobody else's. (yes Thatch even you, get the fuck out of my kitchen, goddamn-yoi)

[charlesdesvoeux]

terror rewatch time!!! i'll be using this post to comment on ep. 1 "go for broke" block the tag terrorwatch2 if you'd like :-)

(instead of clogging up you guys' dash I'll just post all my little notes here under the cut):

interesting thing that crozier requests an ice report, and they could've just fetched mr. reid and given it very straightforwardly and objectively, with no fuss. but sir john decided to make it a social occasion, a dinner with the officers, which I think is a tiny but interesting way of illustrating their different priorities (even if we haven't met Crozier yet)

the chat between hickey and the boys is a nice way of introducing the class structure within the ship, and we see hickey already has ideas of questioning this very structure which of course culminate in something very interesting later on as all these boundaries of class and propriety blur as they get closer and closer to doom

"as I climbed the ladder I was thinking of caesar crossing the rubicon" james you're unbearable (affectionate)

i'm thinking about franklin's choice to get David Young to erebus when they could have just sent stanley over. is it lack of trust in Dr. MacDonald? does he not want to inconvenience stanley with having to go to another ship in the cold- instead exposing a sick boy to the cold air of the fucking arctic and dismissing the concerns both crozier and macdonald raise about what this could mean to his health? either way it means that david young died away from his friends who could have provided some comfort for him as he passed.

"after one glance from him I have to remind myself I'm not a fraud" that's exactly what made them so antagonistic to one another at first... when James sees himself through Francis' gaze he's afraid, he's afraid that his construction of the mask of Commander James FitzJames will come crumbling down. but the thing is- it HAS to. it has to come down. they have to reach the end of vanity, the end of all illusions and pretense in order to see clearly and try to survive. and the worst thing is, jfj does reach the end of vanity- but he does not survive.

"you love your men more than even god loves them" "for all our sakes let's hope you're wrong" is this the only moment of self awareness for franklin??? i can't remember any other from my first watch. sir john doesn't love them, not really- his supposed affection is frankly quite shallow and only present when it doesn't inconvenience him. it's not love, it's a performance of "love" that hits traditional beats (affability, a cheery tone etc) but is entirely hollow.

john franklin is a VALOR STEALING BASTARD

goodsir telling david young "you may be a warning of things to come".... it came true in more ways than one.... what with him having both the lead poisoning and the vision from the shaman alerting them to leave...

david young dies: no mother or father will welcome him into heaven; his sister is on the other side of the world; his friends are on the other boat. but at least he may console himself with the promise to see the passage first, and the certainty to have died for the economy.

love the visual parallel established between collins removing the ice from the propeller and goodsir removing david young's organs in the autopsy

the scene where franklin makes The Worst Call™ is so interesting in terms of the dynamic between him, crozier and fitzjames but also. he was never gonna listen to crozier. crozier doesn't fawn over him, doesn't put on the performance of reverence- he's a relentlessly practical man. it wounded franklin's pride. so even in face of what appears to be a very sensible plan he simply will not yield to crozier's judgement. and thus sir john's pride and hubris knocks down the first thing in the rube golberg machine of doom of the franklin expedition.

goooood the way hickey puts up the two fingers at tozer and then hurriedly changes it to a thumbs up. i love you ratman <3

francis' withering look at franklin in one of the last shots. jesus fucking christ

[llycaons]

ep41 (2/2): cleansing really is that beautiful

jgy is really good at turning his genuinely unfortunate circumstances into sympathy points to skirt around responsibility. I do feel bad for him, I do understand his position. but he's not the only person here without power, and he's certainly only looking out for his own skin

and like nmj says, he's doing all this - crying and lying and manipulating - because he wants to keep a high social position. no other reason. and he admits it!

I find this argument so funny. like in fairness it's similar to the one that wwx brings up later but wwx and wn actually died and in wwx's minds, paid for their crimes already. jgy never did, and hearing him whine 'oh my god, I just killed a few people, are you're STILL bringing it up now???' is pretty funny

good point, jgy! nmj isn't entirely a bastion of flawless justice himself, but 1. he actually tries because he cares about it and 2. this conversation is about your crimes and diverting will not save you from him

oh, so poetic! so dramatic! look at that face!

OH DAMN!!!!!! CRIMSON PEAK MASTER COMEBACK

oh this is a good scene. correct response to 'their lives aren't worth as much as mine!' and a perfect example for people who genuinely think jgy is some hero of the working class. sorry, guys. he's only in it for himself and he;ll step on as many poor and margnalized people as he needs to in the process

bad manners, nmj :(

this was so cunty of him

idk I feel like there could have been a better translation for this

POINTING AT JGY!!! wow so yeah jgy is murdering him for no reason other than 'he kicked me out of the clan for killing his commander and yelled at me a lot :(' you would crumble into dust if you encountered a quarter of the hardships of the wens

holding baxia like that....

oh my god he's so off the rails

ohhh it that suibian I see 👀

okay this looks stupid but but it's my firm belief that this is proof wwx has at least a shadow of a golde core in his new body otherwise HOW COULD BE DO THAT

hiii sexy

it's so cute how he pulls himself up each step like that. he's so tiny!

and then all tucked out and flopping onto lwj's hand <3

so full of personality was this paperman that I forgot wwx had a real body to return to and I jumped when he reappeared on the screen. muppet effect

shoutout to lxc for trusting and believing his brother for this. you know if the situations were reversed lwj would glare him down for daring to suggest wwx was untrustworthy. and he'd be right but it's nice that lxc is so supportive

jin ling isn't easily intimidated, which is funny bc he keeps asking these perfectly reasonable questions like 'why are you trying to get into my uncle's bedchambers at night' and 'what is going on' and ignoring him/glaring at him doesn't work at all

oh you douchebag

I think su she's villainy is a bit dumb and jealousy is a weak and judgemental trait for a villain to even have but this shot makes him look like such a tool idc

personal highlights: I'm tired and I don't care much for nmj and jgy's situationship so let's make this short and sweet

meng yao's water carriers

meng yao's very smooth glide into a standing bow

meng yao's beautiful silver and white robes

meng yao deflecting questions about his intentions with "I'm just glad I...met...you 🥺'

nmj's side-eye to jgy during their brotherhood swearing-in

jgy's blatant and purposeful flirting

"I only killed a few people, can you PLEASE stop bringing it up still 🙄'

nmj yelling ASSHOLE and kicking jgy down the steps for saying he's better and more deserving than other people

sexy sexy suibian ♥

paperman!wwx going WHEW and flopping down onto lwj's hand very cute

[checkxmaster]

About the Muse: Chad Kaplan

[Bio and other information below the cut!] 

Type of Character & Fandom/Source Material: Canon character from the movie Resident Evil (2002). Will become canon-divergent in verses

Full name: Chad Kaplan

FC: Martin Crewes as Kaplan in Resident Evil (2002)

Race: Human

Age: Verse-dependent; Late 20s during RE, Late 30s by RE: Retribution

Sexual/Romantic Orientation: Heteroromantic/Heterosexual

Occupation: Umbrella paramilitary commando; UST (Umbrella Sanitation Team) member; computer technician; technology specialist; programming expert; electrical engineer

Family & Home Life: Chad is an only child of two doting parents he sees on a regular basis (or used to, before the world went to hell). He has a gregarious wife, Iris, whom he met when he relocated to Raccoon City to become employed by the Umbrella Corporation. Before that, he lived in Washington D.C., working for the FBI (all headcanons, heh). He and Iris have a good relationship. He respects and loves her very much and she encourages him whenever his confidence level is not where it should be. She thinks he’s just adorable, haha. Iris loves children and is an elementary schoolteacher in addition to having worked extensively with physically disabled children. In addition to have a degree in public education, she is also a registered nurse. (Note: I can remove Iris from his background easily enough, or in many verses she might have died in some of the initial outbreaks, if there is a potential for shipping.)

Potentially Triggering Material in Threads: Anything you’d find in a zombie apocalypse movie plus medical stuff, heh. So... death, blood, violence, gore, body horror, needles, medical procedures and equipment, surgery, monsters and mutated creatures, mind control, and mental health issues such as anxiety and panic attacks.

General Personality: Despite being an indispensable member of the team, having formal training, and being cleared by Umbrella to be in the field, Chad is a nervous soldier who often doubts his skills and second-guesses himself. He is much more at home at a desk in front of a computer screen than he is on a battlefield. At heart, he is a quiet, sometimes mousy, but morally centered man. He may not seem very brave - and may argue himself that he’s not - but when the shit hits the fan, he’s very much able to push himself through the most harrowing of situations, especially when the lives of team members are at stake. His biggest problem in the field is being emotionally affected by the injuries and deaths of others, especially if he believes they might be his fault. This can very easily cloud his judgement or cause him to freeze into inaction because he’s overwhelmed by emotion.

Negative Personality Traits: Kaplan is very insecure and unsure of himself. He doubts and second-guesses himself often, and there really isn’t a reason for it. He’s fully capable of doing his job, but when challenged, put under pressure, or nervous, he starts to doubt that he can, and then he makes foolish mistakes. So it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy fueled by his anxiety and insecurity. He’s very hardon himself and is very susceptible to patterns of guilt, regret, and survivor’s guilt. He can also be kindof a doormat, very often letting people take advantage of him or working himself to the bone when others don’t feel obligated to.

Positive Personality Traits: Although when pressure first starts to hit, he gets easily flustered and doubts himself, when things really get bad Chad had an amazing ability to push past his fear, anxiety, and insecurity through sheer force of will. It takes a lot for him to get angry or to get his back up about something, but once he’s pushed to that point, he becomes more assertive and highly productive. He’s loyal, empathetic, resourceful, selfless, helpful, and can be brave in his own way. He’s also just... a sweet, genuine, and nice guy in general. He’s never manipulative and doesn’t take advantage of people.

Background: 

Chad Kaplan is, first and foremost, a technical specialist whose expertise lies in electrical engineering, computer hardware and software, cyber security, coding languages, hacking, audiovisual utilities, digital mapping, and surveillance systems. Before being scouted by the Umbrella Corporation, Chad worked for the FBI as a computer technician in cyber security. He was not a field agent, however, despite receiving weapons training at Quantico. It was not until he joined Umbrella that he became a trained commando in addition to a tech specialist.

Once he did, he was placed on one of Umbrella’s Sanitation teams as their computer technician and technology expert. His teammates included: Rain Ocampo (marksman), J.D. Salinas (marksman; security agent), Olga Danilova (medic; security agent), Vance Drew (commando), Alfonso Warner (security agent), and James Shade, a.k.a. “One“ (team commander; security officer).

Although he is currently stationed at the Hive and works and trains within it along with the rest of his team and others, Chad was the only member of his team to live outside it, in the suburbs of Raccoon City However, due to the demanding nature of his job, he frequently stays overnight in the Hive if he’s pulling long nights and has his own dorm room on the employee housing floor just in case. 

What does the URL of this blog mean? (Because people have asked XD)

“Check Master,” was a nickname that Chad’s friends and fellow trainees gave him at Quantico when he was training for the FBI. They bestowed it upon him because every time he accomplished something he was proud of, he’d say “checkmate,” as in the chess term. Nowhere did he say it more than when he had gotten really difficult code written and working or when he had managed to crack a hacking puzzle. To this day, whenever he hacks into something and feels like he accomplished something, he still says it. So his friends started calling him “Check Master,” partly because of that habit, partly out of affection for him, and partly because he can be a pretty mousy guy but the nickname implies a large amount of confidence in addition to ability. So it’s a playful teasing sort of thing that just... stuck.

Potential Starter Ideas:

It’s probably easier to just view my rp verses post to get some ideas on when/where you’d like to fit your muse in, or we could chat if we’d be melding two fandoms together in a crossover.

Likely, the most versatile verses for Chad are going to be ones that take place before the first movie (before the Hive and Raccoon City Incidents), during RE: Apocalypse (the RC Incident), or later in the series for things set during RE: Retribution or RE: The Final Chapter. But again if we’re doing a crossover and melding two fandoms together, or we’re bringing in the games or the Welcome to Raccoon City movie, we can certainly chat to iron out a starting point and plot ideas. 

We can always take Chad completely out of his canon zombie apocalypse world and plop him into your muse’s world/setting too.

Fun facts:

Chad has a pet cat named Oreo (x,x,x,x). Although he lives off-site, sometimes he brings him to work in the Hive in his dorm room if he has a lot of coding to do and knows he’ll be at a computer for days. Oreo is exceptionally intelligent for a cat. He passes the “mirror test” (x,x) for a high level of self-awareness and sometimes seems to understand what people say to him. He also has a habit of standing up and walking around on only two legs, which some find creepy and others find hilarious. Oreo constantly interrupts Chad’s computer work at home, often laying across the keyboard or his arms while he is trying to type.

Oreo wasn’t just named because he is a black and white cat. He’s also named after Chad’s favorite cookie. Chad loves oreos so much, and is one of those rare people who can eat whole sleeves of them on a semi-regular basis and never seem to gain weight.

Chad really loves to play video games. He always wanted to design and code his own, but never got around to it.

He likes to play around with broken and dead machines (computers, cell phones, tablets, etc.) and rewire them to do what he wants. Seeing if he can frankenstein devices or change their functions to suit his needs is a hobby of his.

Chad is a huge Star Wars and Star Trek fan, but he prefers the older movies and show to the newer ones.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Fair Rosaline by Natasha Solomons

Summary:

This is a twist on Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet from Rosaline's point of view. Rosaline Capulet is on the precipice of being sent away to a nunnery for good, so she decides to take life by the reins while she can. In doing so, she meets Romeo and has a brief affair with him. But when Romeo's true colors are revealed and he turns his wandering eye on her cousin Juliet, Rosaline has no choice but to stop him.

Review:

So all the sex that takes place in this book is when Rosaline is under the age of 18— I thought this was worth putting out there right off the bat. This is also not a historical romance; it's closer to historical fiction, and really well-written historical fiction at that. The descriptions are lush and lyrical, and you really get a fuller sense of the Verona Shakespeare might have imagined (he was very taken with Italy as a setting, but never visited, according to Natasha's author's note).

I loved the characterization of Rosaline. Rosaline's mother has just died, and she's faced with being sent to a nunnery rather than being married off. For a relatively outspoken and forthright teenager (she's fifteen? or sixteen?), it's a difficult situation to accept, so her decision to take these twelve days before she's sent away and throw caution to the wind totally makes sense. I also really liked her relationship with Juliet as well as Tybalt. Natasha humanized both of them, and even if Rosaline/Tybalt as a concept was a little jarring to read, I was on their side.

What was a little more difficult to read was Romeo's characterization: He is written as a sexual predator. Like sure, he's smooth and charming in a way I never quite got into in Shakespeare's original work, but it did come across here (at first at least), but you read the way he behaves with Rosaline and it's textbook predatory behavior: the love bombing, the manipulations, plying her with alcohol before sex, "forbidding" her from seeing family, promising he'll marry her, etc.. I was shocked when Rosaline described him up close as having a few grey hairs, and I was like, how old is this man??

Romeo's sins don't end there either. His trifling with girls is actually a part of a wider, more horrific conspiracy. And Friar Laurence is involved 😬. By the end of the story, a lot of the events are carried out similarly to the original text, with Rosaline watching it all go down, but she's no longer a passive observer.

Overall:

I read Romeo and Juliet in 9th grade and didn't think much of it, but reading Fair Rosaline actually made me revise my stance on a lot of the actions characters in the book took. Now, I'm more inclined to give them some grace because they were teenagers. That too, teenagers facing some very grown-up decisions. Remember, Juliet was going to be betrothed to Count Paris, a much older man, in the original text. No wonder she took the leap with Romeo! Similarly in this book, Rosaline had just lost her mother, and was likely going to be sent to a nunnery for the rest of her life by her father. It actually makes sense she'd meet and sleep with a guy she just met because again, teenagers.

All that being said, it was.... definitely a Choice for Natasha to write Romeo a) as old as he was (we don't know how old he is in the original but he's definitely on the older end of the spectrum here) and b) turn a character that seems fuckboy-ish at worst in the original play into an absolute monster, one who knows exactly what he's doing. It's an interesting interpretation, because it turns a cautionary tale into one with an outright villain and his victims. I'm reserving my judgement on exactly what this sort of interpretation means in the broader context of Romeo and Juliet adaptations as a whole, but by itself, I can't deny it was a pretty great book.

Thank you to Sourcebooks Landmark and NetGalley for the ARC in exchange for my review.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Reaper and the Death Angel Prologue

In this post I announced two new series, this is the Jax x Reader one. It borrows heavily from the TV show Bones and characters for The Punisher. It will also take a lot of plots for these two posts 1 2

Series Masterlist

Warnings: The reader's Brother is described, but it won't have any impact on the reader's appearance (I don't want to spoil more). This is a Clay hate blog and it shows right away, a one sentence reference to sex offenders.

626 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged in this series.

You've spent most of your adult life in and out of war zones, and you've worked with the US military to identify terrorist and dead GIs. Sick of all the death and pain you chose to leave fieldwork and go back to historical research. When your little Brother leaves the Marines and settles in a small town, you decide to follow him. Will you find a home in your small, underfunded Musume job and your Brother's found family? Or will life with the Club just be another war zone?

"The new guy is starting today right?" Jax's voice moved across the garage into the office.

"Yeah, Samuel y/l/n. He should be alright if his references are anything to go by."

*************

The new guy was huge, big, tall, and board with biceps the size of tree trunks. He had sandy blond/brown hair cut into the traditional high and tight of the Marines. Light brown eyes and skin tanned from years in the Sun. He seemed overly zipped up, like the sky could start falling and he'd just shrug and find a way to fix it.

"You don't talk much do you?" Clay's voice was short and judgemental.

"I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea is all." Sam was still filling out paperwork when Clay spoke, he had only been there half a day and hadn't had time to get to know anyone.

Not a good sign

"Do you ride?" Jax's tone was neutral.

"Yeah, I've got a 1939 El Knucklehead at home."

"Shit, man! How did you come by that?" The garage had suddenly gone quiet. Tig was still starting with his mouth open.

"My older Sister y/n got it for me as a gift for finishing basic training."

More silence, and then Clay pipped in again.

"Some Sister, huh?"

Sam started shaking his head.

"Not really, she hates them with a passion, calls them 'machines of death and skin graphs'. The day after I got it she made me attend an autopsy of a guy who had laid his bike down after speeding without a helmet. Then she told me if she ever caught me without a helmet breaking or the road rules, she would give my organs to someone who actually cared about them"

"That's a bit harsh" ok, he really didn't like Clay.

"Not no bit, she just wanted to make sure I was mature enough to undersand the risks I was taking. She's always been very.... adult."

Clay seemed to accept his response, however he could tell that if you and Clay ever met, it would be icy at best.

"Wait, how did she get you into the morgue?" Juice was fast demonstrating he was the smart one.

"She's a forensic anthropologist." Sam was careful not to give too much away, you were a private person.

"Which is?"

Google it old man.

"She uses someone's bones to identify them and how they died if their bodies are too damage or decomposed to identify them by normal means."

Tig chimed in.

"That sounds fun."

A few days earlier

"Are you excited for your new job?" Sam could hear the occasional bang of gunshots over your voice.

"I guess so, why don't you tell me how your background check turned out?" his tone was affectionate but accusatory.

"Ok, they're clearly into some shady shit. But no sex offences or domestic violence convictions, not that the paperwork is anything to go by."

Crack

"Sorry about that, our mercenary babysitters don't really know what they're doing."

Sam wasn't worried, if he worried about you when you were overseas, he would never stop.

"One Mr Clarence 'Clay' Morrow and a Mr Piermont 'Piney' Winston served in the Corp in Nam, and one Mr Filip 'Chibs' Telford was in Ireland during The Troubles, no other former service members."

So the K-Bar on Jax's hip wasn't his.

"That's about it. I want you to make your own mind up about them so I'm not giving you anymore details."

Sam huffed.

"You can be very frustrating sometimes, you have the knowledge of everyone's shady dealings at your fingertips and you choose to use your power responsibility?"

"Yes, Sam. Make sure you iron your shirt when you go in, you want to make a good first impression.

Part 1

I hate this so far but it's going to take a while to develop the story I'm really sorry if the dialogue feels stilted.

[allegra-writes]

"Upside Down Soy Iced Caramel Macchiato"

Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Coffee shop AU

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff.

I usually steer clear from physical descriptions, but this is a special little something for the Decaf Coven, @amayatheowl @cocoamoonmalfoy @seolaseoul and @chaoticpete @bleh-bleh-blehs just this once, this is a brown eyed, brunette!Reader. If you prefer, you can read the Darklina version on AO3

MY MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

"Here, Ivan? Really??" Aleks raised an eyebrow, judgement clear in his voice as he glanced at the sign above their heads announcing the "Brewed Awakening" cafe, a new age, yoga friendly, law of attraction or some other hippie bullshit better suited for sunny, spiritual, hip Shu Han than for gloomy, cold, cynical, spartan Os Alta. And definitely not suited for the coldest and most cynical of Os Alta Business men, Aleksander Morozova.

Ivan shrugged, his stoic face carefully blank, as always.

"Fedya likes it. And they make a mean cold americano" 

Aleksander let out an sceptical scoff, but followed his friend inside, there was no time for arguing and no time to look for another coffee shop, their next deposition beginning in less than twenty minutes, so he would have to, as Fedyor would say, suck it up. He was under no delusions about the quality of the coffee offered at this place, in his experience, these kind of venues were far more concerned with decorations and ambience than with the grounds they used. 

Sure enough, the interior of the cafe looked like something out of a magazine, mismatched wooden chairs and tables artfully combined, royal blue couches on top of white plush rugs creating little cozy conversation spaces, empty cages hanging from the ceiling, candles in every available surface… 

There was a small queue in front of the mahogany counter. 

"Maybe we should leave, we'll be late"

"Non sense" Ivan replied, "if we have to sip our coffee on the way back, it will still be worth it, trust me"

Aleksander was about to protest, but the words died in his throat when a costumer stepped aside, and he saw her: Dark hair piled on a messy bun atop her head, warm coffee eyes and a smile that seemed lit up the entire shop, if not the entire city. 

His mother had told him legends when he was a little kid, fairy tales about the Grisha, seductive creatures of supernatural beauty that could control the elements at will, often leading men to their downfall with their bewitching wiles. As he watched her, shinning brighter than the golden Firebirds painted on the wall behind her, there was no doubt in Aleksander's mind that this girl was one of them, a sun witch, like Sankta Alina, who had bravely walked into the shadow fold and faced the Black Heretic, breaking the spell and turning him back into a man with a true love's kiss. 

The girl turned away from them to start making the drink for the guy in front of them. 

"Sorry!" She called back, "The other barista bailed on us, so it's just me today. If you can give me five minutes, I'll be right with you" 

Ivan made a face, opening his mouth to politely decline, but Aleksander beated him to it.

"No problem, take your time. We're not in a hurry"

Ivan frowned, but Aleksander was technically his superior, so he didn't say anything. 

"Really? Thank you-" The girls eyes' met Aleksander's over the pastry display case, and froze, doe eyes making her look pretty much like a deer in the headlights. Aleks' heart skipped a beat. 

The girl shook herself,

"Right. What- um… what would you like to order?"

"Just an espresso for me, and an iced americano for my friend" Aleksander announced.

"Zoya wants a soy latte" Ivan reminded him. 

"And a soy latte" Aleks repeated, obediently.

"Perfect. I mean, sure, right away. Just let me finish this Macchiato here and I'll… make them. For you." 

Aleksander felt bad for the obviously overwhelmed girl, but he would be lying if he said her flushed cheeks and nervous fumbling wasn't the cutest thing he had ever seen. 

The time seemed to fly as he watched her, dainty little hands dexterously turning nobs and levers and pressing buttons, until she finally stepped forward, presenting them with two drinks on the counter, but Aleksander only had eyes for her, and the way a single, rebel curl escaped her bun right under his attentive watch. His hand twitched with the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. And maybe, just maybe, cup her face on the way back, stroke those adorable pink cheeks, bring her closer to him, lean in and-

"What is this?" Ivan's stern voice tore him out of his daydream.

"Um, an americano and an upside down iced soy caramel macchiato…" The girl replied, "That- that was your order, right?" 

Aleksander's heart twisted inside his chest at the uncertainty in her voice.

"Yes, that's exactly what we ordered" He reassured her quickly, closing his mouth around the straw of his designated cup for good measure. The girl gasped, eyes zeroing on his lips, making the butterflies inside his stomach take flight. 

"Delicious" he declared, blindly handing her a bill that the girl distractedly took and stuffed into the register, eyes never leaving his. 

Ivan wondered if either of them had realized his boss had just handed her a fifty. Gruffly, he grabbed his drink,

"Well, we should get going now. There's an important meeting and we're already late" 

Taking his boss' elbow, he practically dragged him away as the barista girl waved them goodbye.

"See you soon" It sounded like a question. Aleksander threw her a smile over his shoulder,

"Very" he promised. Ivan was starting to think he had made a terrible mistake showing him this place…

…

There was a tall, handsome dark skinned boy next to his barista when he walked into the cafe the next day, poking her in the ribs and telling her something apparently very witty if the way she threw her head back laughing was anything to go by. Aleksander felt the strange impulse to bite his hand off.

However, his unexpected desire for violence left as suddenly as it had arrived, when the sunshine girl spotted him, her face breaking into an impossibly bigger and brighter smile.

"Upside down iced soy caramel macchiato guy!"

Aleksander beamed: she remembered him. 

Well, kind of. She still had his order wrong, but to be honest, Aleksander was too happy to care. 

"That's me" He laughed, "or, you know, Aleksander, for short" 

"Aleksander" She repeated, and he could have died right there and then. His name was probably the most common name in the entire Ravka, but it sounded different from her lips. It sounded special. "I'm Y/N" she offered him her hand to shake. He took it, and swore he could feel sunlight fill his veins where his skin met hers. 

"Y/N" he tried it, loving the sweet taste it left in his mouth. Sweeter than yesterday's macchiato. A throat cleared somewhere beside them. 

"Right" She seemed to wake from the spell first, "Same as yesterday?"

Aleksander nodded,

"Of course! That was the best iced macchiato I've ever had" 

Y/N smiled again, positively glowing as she made her way to the espresso machine. 

Yeah, Aleksander could drink overly sweet coffee drinks until he got diabetes, as long as he could see that smile every day for the rest of his life… 

[seita]

— reacting to your death. 

atsumu, osamu, kita, aran, aone, + futakuchi.

+ this is childhood friend!reader.

tw: major character death, grieving

note: i made your cause of death more ambiguous this time around...hope u like it!!!

part one | part two | part three (coming soon)

— miya atsumu.

atsumu doesn’t handle trauma well

he doesn’t have good coping mechanisms

he acts like everything is fine, lets all the hurt and anger build up inside him.

he turns volatile, insufferable to everyone around him because he refuses to acknowledge what’s happening, what’s hurting him.

+

osamu had noticed the alarming silence and misery in his twin’s eyes. everyone in their family and their friends all knew about your death by now, but atsumu refused to speak about it. he refused to tell anyone details or acknowledge the fact you were gone.

“how’d she die?” osamu finally asked one night. he had stood in the doorway, watching his usually lively brother cry into his hands -- completely unaware he was being watched.

atsumu didn’t answer and osamu sighed, “how did she die, atsumu?”

“shut your mouth, samu,” atsumu spits, glaring at his brother with red-rimmed eyes. the look held none of the fire it usually would. instead he just looked so heartbroken that osamu felt tears of his own pricking at his eyes.

he called you friend too but it was different with you and atsumu. you were best friends. and osamu knew his twin loved you more than anything, maybe even more than volleyball itself.

“just tell me...” osamu sighs, “you need to talk about it. so you can start feeling better.”

“i...” atsumu’s voice broke as he sobbed, “i don’t think i’ll ever feel better...not without her.”

— miya osamu.

he’s much more levelheaded than his twin but he still doesn’t know how to cope with things like this

he doesn’t have a particularly good support system around him

it’s not like his brother is someone he can have heart to heart talks to

nor does he have anyone else he can consider someone he can lean on

no one but you

so, like his brother, he lets it build up

but he doesn’t make it anyone else’s problem

+

he stood in the kitchen, moving on autopilot. his head was empty, all thoughts turned off to avoid thinking about you. because he knew that the second you came to mind, he would be in tears again. and his head hurt from crying all day yesterday.

it still didn’t feel real to him and he couldn’t bring himself to confront it. because he didn’t know who to turn to. you were the only one he wanted to talk to.

but you were gone.

and now he had no one.

his twin watched helplessly, completely unequipped to help as his brother fell apart at the seams.

“samu...” atsumu sighed, “you’re making one for her again.”

osamu froze, looking at the half-filled pink-themed bento he kept at his house so he could bring you lunch. he deflated and slowly put his hands down.

“right...” he whispered, “well...you can h-have this one then, yeah?”

atsumu nodded, choosing to ignore the way his otherwise stoic brother cried as he finished putting the bento together.

atsumu knew the food would taste bitter with the thought that it was meant for you and you would never be able to eat the food osamu so lovingly made you again.

— kita shinsuke.

contrary to what people may think, he’s not a robot

he tries very hard not to break in public

he doesn’t want his friends to see him vulnerable and broken

only two people have ever seen him like that; his grandmother and you

without you, he really doesn’t know what to do

he feels numb

+

he mindlessly stares down at his hands, calluses suddenly seeming interesting. he didn’t notice the eyes of his friends on him, exchanging weary looks to one another.

“kita...” aran begins but the captain doesn’t show any signs of having heard him, “i know you’re having a hard time, man but...”

kita looks up, blank eyes meeting his expectantly. aran finds himself unable to think of anything. kita was hard to read usually but even aran could see the heartbreak the captain was going through.

after his friends extended silence, kita looked back down and sighed. but he didn’t say anything. he couldn’t think of anything to say.

briefly, he thought about how he never had to struggle to tell you things. a lifetime spent by his side allowed you to easily read him.

when he looked up at his team, he was met with uneasy, curious gazes. no one would ever be able to understand him and know him like you did.

and now he had to figure out how to cope with that loss.

— ojiro aran.

he probably handles it the best

but inside, he’s falling apart

he just wants you there with him but he knows you wouldn’t want him to wallow in his misery and lonliness

but how is he supposed to do that when he just misses you so much?

he tries his hardest to work through it

but it’s just so hard

+

he didn’t even remember playing the game. it all moved in a blacked out blur. all he knew was that when the crowd cheered and his teammates clapped him on the back with wide grins, he couldn’t even muster a fake smile.

his eyes moved to the stands, hopelessly looking through the unknown faces in the crowd. every time he played, he allowed himself to feel a little shrivel of hope that you would be there.

he didn’t know why he let himself hope. he knew you were gone, dead.

his throat felt tight and he looked back at his teammates as they celebrated. he muttered about going to the locker room to clean up, completely ignoring the sympathetic looks in his friends eyes.

he knew that his wins would never feel the same again. not after years of celebrating each one with you since he was a child.

winning was only bittersweet without you there.

— aone takanobu.

heartbroken doesn’t even touch how he feels

hes not someone who has ever dealt with loss before. sure, his grandfather died when he was a kid but that was different. he was a kid.

you’re someone he’s had since he was a child, you went to elementary, middle, and high school with him

you were the only person he would ever openly call his friend -- his best friend.

death is unfamiliar to him and without you there to guide him through it, he’s lost

+

he sat on the train, seats on either side of him empty. usually you would be perched there, talking his ear off about some nonsense. he never minded, he had long since grown used to you filling the silence with your voice.

but now, he realized, that even though he never said anything, he never got used to the quiet. anxiety swirled up inside him and he hung his head, judgemental eyes of other patrons felt like lead weights on his shoulders.

usually you would glare at anyone who looked at him like that, making the gazes fall from him and freeing him. but you weren’t there now.

and he realized he had no idea how to function without you.

it wasn’t that he was dependant on you to live his day to day life.

you just made him happy.

and made it easier for him to breathe when you were there.

tears pricked his eyes as the words passed through his head.

‘i miss you.’

— futakuchi kenji.

he’s actually kind of a popular guy but there’s no one that compares to you

no one has seen him turn from an awkward adolescent into a confident man

he’s lost and sadder than he had ever been before

he really doesn’t want to believe it but there’s no way your parents would lie to him

but secretly he hopes it’s all just a big ruse

and if it were, he wouldn’t even mad -- as long as it meant you weren’t really dead

+

he opened his phone, a reflex. it was always on silent, which meant he always missed your texts and whatnot.

he went to your text thread and sighed as he suddenly remembered. your last text was from a week ago and he felt empty as he read it for the millionth time. he couldn’t bring himself to delete any of your messages yet, terrified that he would forget the funny things you’ve said, the sweet words of encouragement, or even a dumb meme you sent on a night you couldn’t sleep.

half of your friendship was memorialized in your texts.

and he can’t risk forgetting everything that he had left of you.

© all content belongs to seita 2021. do not modify or repost.

[heyyyharry]

Drivers License

(inspired by drivers license by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.5k

And you're probably with that blonde girl Who always made me doubt She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

This song is so sad and it made me cry so I had to write something about it 🤧

.

.

.

“I love the song.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N chewed on her bottom lip, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “But?” she asked her producer, who was on the phone. “You don’t sound like you love it.”

“Of course I love it, Y/N. It’s just–” Came a pause. “Do you really want this to be the next single?”

“What do you mean? You love it but it’s not good enough to be a single?”

“It’s too good, Y/N,” her producer said. “It’s very...personal.”

“That’s why I want to put it out, Gray. It means a lot to me.”

Gray was quiet for another moment. “The media and his fans are going to come for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Alright. I’ll call you back.” Gray sounded defeated but she could still sense a smile as he told her, “Good job, kid,” before hanging up.

Y/N put her phone away, tossed her head back and heaved a sigh. She was well aware of the trouble she’d cause by releasing this song. It’d be like showing the whole world her diary. She’d written plenty of songs on her previous albums about her relationships, too. There had been witch hunts simply because the men she’d written songs about had fans who worshipped them and refused to see them as anything less than perfect. She wasn’t perfect, either. If she were perfect, she wouldn’t have written a song about an ‘almost’ relationship. She’d know her worth and not have chased someone who didn’t and would never want her. She knew that now. So this song would be the last thing she’d give this person. The last goodbye that she never got to say.

.

.

.

“What are you smiling at?”

“Nothing.”

“Let me see,” Y/N giggled and tried to grab his phone as he pretended to fight her off.

“Alright, alright.” He laughed, reached out to turn the music in his car down and handed her the phone. “It’s the memes your fans made about you not being able to drive,” he said, suppressing a grin.

Her jaw dropped. “I hate you!”

“I’m sorry. It slipped out,” he said, laughing again. She could listen to his laugh on replay. She loved his music, but his laugh had to be her most favourite melody. “To be fair, you talked a lot of shit about me in that interview, too.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she scoffed at the smug look he was wearing. “At least I didn’t tell the whole world about your imaginary friend that you had until you were thirteen. You spilt my secret.”

“Not a secret anymore.”

She playfully smacked him on the arm. “My lawyer will hear about this.”

He pouted, pretending to be upset. “Guess we’ll never work together anymore.”

“Acting is not for me anyway.”

Y/N gave Harry back his phone. He took it but didn’t break eye contact as his brows knitted. “Stop saying that. You were great in the movie.”

She rolled her eyes sarcastically. “Oh please, have you been on the internet?”

“You mean my fans’ reactions, right? Just ignore them.” He breathed. “I mean, I love my fans, but they could be too much sometimes. Just look at all my previous relationships. I can’t even breathe around a female without them sending her death threats.”

“Yeah,” Y/N let out a nervous laugh, hands folded together resting on her knees. “Speaking of relationships,” she ventured, “are you talking to someone new?”

She wasn’t looking at him yet she could feel the heat from his gaze as he told her, “No. I already told you, Y/N. Right now there’s just you.”

Harry turned, putting both hands on his steering wheel. Was he nervous as well? Had she ruined the moment by bringing this up?

He took a deep breath, confirming her assumption. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

It was the same line he’d told her times and times again, and she wished she could just tell him how much she loathed it. And since she couldn’t say anything, she just nodded and focused on the rings on her fingers.

“I do care a lot about you, though,” he added, his voice heavy with emotions.

Her friends had told her that men would say things like this, and most of the time they barely meant half of it. However, she’d known Harry for years. Their relationship had only changed since they’d been cast for the same movie earlier this year. She was confident that she knew him better than her friends or anyone else. Surely, he’d meant all the things he’d said to her. The problem was, he just wasn’t ready for a relationship.

“And I don’t want to lose you, Y/N,” he said, now looking at her again.

She turned slowly and met his thoughtful green eyes. She offered a single smile as a way to tell him she wasn’t upset, even though she was, a little bit. “I don’t want to lose you, either,” she admitted.

His dimples reappeared. “I feel like it’s rare for people like us to find a connection like this, and I’ve never opened up to anyone the way I have to you. But I think now isn’t the time for us to take the risk of ruining this. Right now we’re still trying to figure out our own lives, you know?”

She nodded again, not knowing what to say.

They sat quietly for another moment, and it was he who broke the silence. “How come you never learn to drive?”

She could feel her cheeks glowing red. “I never had to drive myself.”

She’d been famous since she was fourteen, so she’d always had people driving her places. Whenever she told anyone that reason, they’d either call her spoiled to her face or give her a judgemental look that made her feel self-conscious. She didn’t have a dad or siblings, her mum didn’t know how to drive, either, and she was too afraid to ask anyone to teach her for she feared they’d judged her.

“I could teach you.”

Y/N whipped her head up and blinked blankly at him. “Really?”

“Of course,” he chuckled. “I have a cousin who didn’t learn to drive when he was young because of his anxiety and I taught him. I could teach you.”

Trying to hide her excitement, Y/N smiled. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened even though he was the one doing her a favour. It was moments like this that reassured her that he wasn’t like the other guys who’d broken her heart. “When you got your driver license,” he said, “you can drive up to my house on your own.”

“We can even go on road trips,” she said happily, already imagining the many scenarios in her head.

He seemed equally elated, which made her heart swell. “Yeah! Wanna do it now or–”

“Let’s do it now.”

“Yeah, okay.” Quickly, he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. She climbed into the driver seat and watched him settle into the passenger side. That afternoon was the first time she’d learned how to drive. She would always remember that.

.

.

“Y/N, you’re up next,” said one member of the backstage staff who handed Y/N her mic and ran off to check on the backing vocalist.

Y/N felt her heart thumping in her chest as she clutched the microphone to her chest and sucked in a deep breath. She looked to her right, peering at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She looked beautiful. The makeup team and her stylist had spent three hours on this look and made sure that she was flawless.

Would he be watching the show tonight?

Had he even listened to the song?

It got to number one on the iTunes chart today. He must have listened to it. If not, he must have heard it on the radio or someone must have sent it to him. The whole world knew the song was for him, and everyone was talking about it. So even though he didn’t care anymore, even though he was happy with his new girlfriend, he must be wondering. Because when she’d heard that he’d written a song about her, she’d been so excited to listen to it. So could it be that he was wondering as well?

“This is Y/N performing her latest single DRIVERS LICENSE!”

Y/N took a deep breath as she got a nod from the stage director. She stepped out, soaked in the stage lights while the audience applauded and cheered for her. She stood at the centre of the stage as the band started playing and the noise in the audience died down. As a habit, she searched the front rows for his face despite knowing with every fibre in her body that this would be the last place he’d be tonight.

I got my driver's license last week

Just like we always talked about

'Cause you were so excited for me

To finally drive up to your house

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

She could see it even now. Them driving through the quiet night. From her house to his and back. Just the two of them. The kisses they’d share at stoplights when there was no one else around. The way he’d place his hand on her thigh just because he wanted to. In retrospect, she should have realised that he wouldn’t ever do that to her in public. Their relationship, if she could call it that, had been almost nonexistent. Maybe that was why it’d been so easy for him to move on. You couldn’t feel remorse leaving behind something that didn’t exist. How unfortunate. It’d been real to her.

And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs

'Cause how could I ever love someone else?

She’d thought to herself that if he could write a song about someone he’d never dated, it was worth staying with him despite not actually being with him. She could not expect that a few months after that song had come out, he would be seen driving around with another girl. The girl he’d told her was only a good friend. This girl was older and perfect in every way. Y/N wouldn’t choose herself either if the choices were between her and that girl. But she couldn’t bring herself to hate the girl. It wasn’t the girl’s fault that Harry had chosen her. And it wasn’t Harry’s fault that Y/N refused to see the red flags through her rose-coloured glasses.

And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Y/N wrote this song a week after she’d got her drivers license. She’d blast sad music in her car and cried as she drove past his house, wondering if he was still up and thinking of her whenever he saw headlights passing his street. The heartbreak had been confusing to her as they weren’t even together. It was funny how the whole world had believed in them, except for him. He’d told her he loved her, so why weren’t they together now? He’d said he wasn’t ready, so why was he holding hands with someone else on the street? Was it because of her? Was it something that she’d done? Was there something wrong with her? Why couldn’t he choose her? Y/N had pondered over those questions for months until she came to accept that there didn’t have to be a reason for someone to leave you. They simply lost feelings or found someone else. No one owed you an explanation.

Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

For months, he'd been a ghost living rent-free in her head. She saw him in every face and every crowd, and she could even, in this moment, hear the sound of his laugh somewhere in the audience. She could hear him telling her he was proud of her, that everything would be okay. And the worst part was that, without her, he was still doing fine. He wouldn’t see her everywhere he went. He wouldn’t think about her when he was lying in bed and couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t wonder if she missed him. Because he didn’t miss her. And he would be saying the same things he’d said to her to his new girl.

Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe (Ooh, ooh)

There on the stage, she received sympathetic looks from the people in the front row as she cried her heart out to the lyrics. He might be at home this moment, watching the show with his new girlfriend, and seeing her cry on live television. Would they laugh at her together? Would he turn to his girlfriend and say he was sorry for how he’d treated Y/N and promised to never hurt his girlfriend the same way? The most heartbreaking thing, Y/N thought, wasn’t him leaving, but seeing him treat someone the way she’d wanted to be treated and realising that he’d been capable of doing it all this time, just not with her.

I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine

How you could be so okay now that I'm gone?

Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me

'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

Putting all her feelings into this song had made everything seem so much simpler and clearer. And at the end of the day, Y/N believed that the whole purpose of songwriting was to get closure. Perhaps, one day, when she listened to this song again, she wouldn’t be sad anymore.

Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

.

.

.

“Good job, Y/N.”

“Thank you.”

“Love the song! You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

Y/N faked a few more smiles then shut the door of her dressing room and slumped into her chair in front of the vanity.

All alone, she looked right at her reflection and took a deep breath.

Her phone buzzed and lit up with a new text message.

Harry: Congratulations on your no 1 :) xx

She pondered over the words, picked up her phone, and deleted his contact.