#Send victims I mean volunteers

[washed-octopus]

Hey kids!

Are you looking for an easy way to make money? Come to my evil laboratory it's normal and safe

[luulapants]

Adding into the discussion of the incarcerated young people fighting fires in California:

I can think of no place worse than prison for emotionally stunting or regressing a person or for dismantling their ability to make good decisions.

You take an adult or child who maybe has exhibited some antisocial behaviors, right? So you remove them from whatever community and support network they have, put enormous financial and logistical barriers between them and any communication with that community. Incarcerate them hours from home in a place not accessible by train or plane with narrow visiting hours that conflict with people's work schedules, and maybe you're fighting to prevent in person visits at all, maybe you got a kickback from a company selling expensive video call visits so people can't even hug their kids when they drive 6 hours on a Wednesday to see them. Get a kickback from a phone service provider that's going to charge extortionate prices for every minute a person spends talking to their loved ones, and if the state passes a law saying you can't do that anymore, pivot and go after the mail. Subvert USPS. Get a kickback from a company that'll give prisoners shitty scans of letters or refuse to deliver it because it was flagged for drug contamination by a machine with a 70% false positive rate, force them instead to send texts at extortionate rates through their proprietary app.

Put them in an environment with a bunch of other people with social issues and force them to compete for resources. Give them no mental healthcare. If they are victimized by other prisoners, punish the victims with solitary confinement. Transfer people around so they can't form meaningful long-term friendships. Tell them that once they get out, it will be illegal for them to talk to any of the people they meet here.

Hire guards who have no qualifications other than a willingness to be a modern day slave overseer or the ignorance to not realize that's what it is, give them complete control over every aspect of other people's lives and tell them those people want to kill them and that any object can be covered in drugs so dangerous that touching them can kill. Allow the guards to traffic drugs into the prison with impunity. Have the guards discourage racial mixing because racial conflict in the prison means the prisoners won't join up against the staff.

You do all of this and you ask if a 20-year-old, who's been in the system since 14, is emotionally mature or psychologically healthy enough to choose to risk their life in exchange for slightly better living arrangements.

You take someone who has probably made some bad decisions, right? And you put them in a place where every detail of every day is decided for them: what they eat, when they eat, when they sleep, where they sleep, what clothes they wear, who they talk to, where they work. Or maybe you give them big decisions that have no right answer. Maybe at the start of the day, you open the cells and they have 10 minutes to decide if they want to be stuck in their cell all day - no shower, no recreation, no library - or go outside and be stuck in genpop all day - no napping, no alone time, no escape if someone is hassling you. You let them decide if they're going to eat breakfast at 3am (because there's too many meal shifts) or sleep in and spend their precious commissary funds on toaster strudel (they have no toaster) or sleep in and not eat even though you're barely giving them 1000 calories a day. You let them start to make decisions about how to spend their day, then you put them on lockdown, take all those decisions away.

You do all this and then you ask if anyone who's spent time in this environment has the decision-making skills to choose to risk their life in exchange for slightly better living arrangements.

All of the incarcerated firefighters in California are 18 or older, and all of them volunteered, but there is no world in which they were adequately prepared to make that decision.

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞

part one - part ii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Everything seems to be going right and life seems amazing, at least to the others..not for you.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ this came to me as I was running a high fever, stop judging me..i also needed a charles fic here, No lando in this one yet, Charles ain't a real good partner and google translate is my bestest friend

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charlesgirlies

liked by 456 others

charlesgirlies Charles and Zoë in y/n's story today 🥰

view all 189 comment

cahlossainz oh

chilisainz oh my god I'm dead 😭

↳ bott_ass bestie same

charles16 she needs to keep feeding us dad Charles please!!

leclerc_16 volunteering to be his baby mama

lanlan Zoë is just the cutest little bean 🥰

↳ charlesgirlies she is! 🥰

lanlan lil cutie like her mom :)

charlesgirlies and her dad!

charloslesainz y/n living my dream life 😭

landoscar I just know zoë has Charles wrapped around her finger

yukisan didn't know y/n and charles were together let alone have a kid 😂

↳ clsixteen have you been living under a rock? It was a big scandal when they were seen together 5 years ago?? 😭

yukisan I'm new so i dont have all the lore, just thought they were friends because they both come from Monaco 😅

leckerkcharles y/n the predator and her victims

mrsleclerc love that there's still people in the comments being mad about them dating 💀

↳ carlandooo for real it's been 5 years people and charles is not little sauber Charles anymore 🤡

charlesgirlies people be acting like y/n is 40 years older than charles

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y/nusername

📍 Sicily, italy

liked by charles_leclerc, noellepicard and 369,989 others

y/nusername babes big day out 🏖

tagged: noellepicard, manon_roux

view all 1,111 comments

noellepicard she's a little mermaid 🧜🏻‍♀️

charlesssss I can't, she's the cutest 😭

charles_leclerc princesse ❤️

↳ charloslesainz stop it, he's such a girl dad imma throw up

hamilt44n man is made to be a dad honestly

manon_roux lucky to have the prettiest girls in the world with me 🥰

↳ joris__trouche je n'ai pas reçu mon invitation? (i didn't get my invite)

y/nusername probablement parce que je n'en ai pas envoyé :) (probably because i didn't send one)

joris__trouche comportement inacceptable (unacceptable behaviour)

charles_leclerc Joris est une des filles maintenant 😂 (joris is one of the girls now)

y/nusername Je devrais lui acheter une mini-jupe et des talons hauts pour nos prochaines vacances :') (should buy him a mini skirt and some high heels for our next vacation)

manon_roux j'aimerais voir cela se produire 🤣 (i'd love to see that happen)

joris__trouche j'aurais l'air sexy et tu ne peux pas le nier (i'd look sexy and you can't deny it)

sharl16 no idea what they're saying but I agree 😭

landoscar her little feeties 🥺

leclerc_16 am I the only one who finds it strange that they haven't been together this summer break?

↳ carlosleclerc they were bestie, they spend time together with friends in Monaco last week..they're both on their girls and boys vacation..pretty normal

leclerc_16 oh I've missed that part..still something feels off

carlosleclerc I mean y/n gave birth to their daughter not that long ago and its probably not the best idea to fly with a new born/baby all around the world. I'm sure they're fine..

leclerc_16 mmm you're probably right, would hate to see them split up though

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly and 327,888 others

y/nusername juste toi et moi à l'infini, petite fille 💗 (just you and me to infinity, little girl.)

view all 1,222 comments

noellepicard 😍

yourmumsuser mes anges ❤️ (my angels)

charloslesainz 'just you and me' doesn't sit right with me lmfao

↳ thurthur my god it's just a caption 💀

landoscar for real they're always reaching for things

thurthur they always trying to start shit and it's getting annoying and repetitive

clsixteen never seen such a cute kid 🥰

francisca.cgomes need to meet her soon!

↳ y/nusername your always welcome!

bananaclerc cutest little bunny 🐰

manon_roux mon lapinou ❤️ (my bunny)

joris__trouche mon petit monstre ❤️ (my little monster)

↳ hamilt44n stop this kid is so loved 😭

sainzleclerc feeding the delulu fans with that caption

↳ charlesgirlies it's literally just a damn caption!!!

sainzleclerc I know but the crazy charles girlies haven't seen them together in a while and don't forget Charles hasn't mentioned zoë in a while.. things add up in their heads 🤡

charles_leclerc mes princesses ❤️

↳ y/nusername 🥰

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

let me know if you want to be taken off the taglist

[lovely-parasite-04]

Iced Coffee, Detective?

Agnes!Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Prologue of ?

SUMMARY: One of the victims of Westview goes a little further than everyone else to be nice to the town hero, Agatha Harkness, or Detective Agnes O'Connor. She doesn't know what she's getting into when the Detective asks her to come in for "further questioning."

WARNINGS: Mention of murder (its only like a sentence), Agatha being Agatha

NOTE: This is mostly experimental because I hardly ever write and when I do, it never sees the light of day. However, I am In Love with Agatha, and I never see anyone write much about when she was under Wanda's spell. The experimental part is that this is meant to be comical and reader doesn't immediately start out with a big fat crush on Madame Harkness. It's also more on the simple side in terms of plot. I'm posting this first little bit to see how people enjoy it, and if it gets a lot of attention, I'll try to write more.

"Large Americano for Agnes?" I shout from my corner behind the counter, swiftly setting the paper cup down as I see the familiar brunette make her way towards me. I turn to begin making another order, but stay put to ask the older woman, "Any new cases, detective? I heard you on the phone over there talking about a lot of work to get back to. "

Agnes (Agatha) takes a large sip of her iced coffee, testing the flavor and swallowing, before responding with, "I'm not supposed to talk about the investigation and I don't entertain rumors about how the victim passed." She barely made eye contact with me, but I'm shocked she didn't immediately leave after receiving her order. She is usually in a hurry to get her coffee and go.

"Oh... of course. Sorry." I have no idea what she heard me say, because I didn't mention anything about a victim. I know I don't necessarily have to play along with her delusions like I do; most people simply tell her to have a nice day and direct her towards the door, but I can't help but be fascinated by what she is going through.

Seeing it from the outside, anyway.

I was among the rest of Westview during the Scarlet Witch's spell. Just the thought of it sends a shiver down my spine. Losing control of everything but your mind can be terrifying, wanting to say something but saying something else. Being frozen in time until you were needed for a plot point for a completely deranged woman. Losing track of time and wondering if it will ever end.

Agatha Harkness had been a town hero, stopping Wanda Maxifmoff and freeing everyone in Westview. But now she was stuck in the same spell with no end in sight.

Her Nosy Neighbor character lasted for about 2 years and everything seemed to be normal. She would gossip with her closest neighbors and those who volunteered to check in on her and bring her groceries, and she pretty much kept to herself. However, her characters have started to derail into different "genres". The first shift the town noticed was around Christmas last year. She seemed to be acting out a Hallmark movie, following around this one guy while pretending she was just bumping into him and trying to show him the "true meaning of Christmas."

It was funnier to watch than any actual Hallmark movie I had ever seen. The guy was married with a family, and continued to tell Agatha as such until she shifted again. That was when I made the observation that in Agatha's delusions, she doesn't always hear exactly what we say. It's like her brain can't comprehend anything that doesn't fit the little world she's made, so it makes something else up entirely for her to play off of.

I'm also convinced that she is controlling her delusions now. Maybe not intentionally, but I no longer see the hold Wanda had over her. Maybe this spell that Agatha is under is different from ours. She has no control of her mind. We only had control of our minds.

I feel bad for her, and I'm really intrigued by her as a person in general - I mean she's a fucking witch from 1690's Salem - so I steal any chance I get to talk to her. It helps that she is a regular at the coffee shop I work at.

Back in the moment, I need to move to the other end of the counter to finish this new order, and I'm positive she'll walk away once I do. I simply say, "Have a nice day!" And start to step away when she surprises me again.

"You knew her, huh?" Holding the coffee close to her chest and mouthing at a straw she slipped in while I was lost in thought. She follows me around the counter, not bothering to mutter anything to the other customers she runs into along the way. Her whole focus is on me.

"I...knew who?"

She heard me that time, giving me the full name of someone I'd never heard of before.

"Oh, her? Yea. Yea, me and her go way back."

  I'm a sucker for improv, okay? What's the harm? Even if she found out I was lying, she can't hurt me. She lost all her magic. Right?

"If you don't mind, I'd like you to come with me back to the prescient, so I can ask you a few questions about the girl and the nights leading up to her death."

Well, fuck. My boss would never let me leave for this. A real cop, sure. The town cook? Absolutely not. "I'm sorry, detective O'Connor, I'd have to wait until I get off work."

"Relax, hon." She said condescendingly "Let's just wait until you get off work -" What a great and completely original idea, Agatha. "I'll give you my card and you give me a call later today, okay?"

She proceeds to hand me an index card with the name Wanda gave her, Detective Agnes O'Connor, above a phone number. On the back is her house address. All handwritten.

  Bless her heart.

  "Okay- I hope you don't hand these out to everyone..." The last part was more of an outside thought, and thankfully Agatha didn't seem to hear it anyway, waving over her shoulder and exiting.

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

[useless-catalanfacts]

Now it's been a week since the floods, but we must remember that the damage is not nearly over. It will take months and years for the affected families to recover. And that's not counting that 215 people have died and 78 are still missing. Many homes, streets, fields, schools, etc are destroyed. I'm glad for all the solidarity we've seen this first week, but they are going to be needing help for a long time to recover.

All the local organizations are thankful but for some days have been asking for people to stop sending them objects (tools, clothes, food, etc) because the collection points have so many that they can't manage them and they don't even need so many of some things being sent, for this reason there are storehouses full of materials that they don't need but people keep sending and some volunteers are having to stay there to coordinate the stuff that arrives instead of being where they're needed. So, please, don't send any more things unless you are coordinated directly with a local association there that asked for a specific thing. They say that the most useful donations now are money and not any more food nor second-hand objects. (Again, thank you very much because this overwhelming response speaks of the goodness and solidarity of everyone who immediately reacted by sending things! but let's do it in a coordinated way with the affected people to make sure it's useful).

Also, recently some well-meaning people have been sharing fundraisers to help the victims, but some of these posts seem to be made by outsiders compiling what they found on Twitter, which ended up spreading fundraisers that belong to far right-wing groups, the Catholic Church, and to associations that aren't well known in the area.

If you can make an economical donation to help these people who have lost everything in a day, these are some trustworthy associations:

Fundraiser by Fundació Horta Sud. This is a foundation created by many local associations of the Horta Sud area, one of the areas that has been the most impacted by the catastrophe. It's a well-known foundation that brings together many local associations. This and the next one are the fundraising that is most recommended by people on the ground working on immediate needs.

Casals i Ateneus dels Països Catalans (federation of social centres of the Catalan Countries) has many social centres in the affected areas and is coordinated with trade unions to provide immediate needs. The bank number for donations is ES74 3025 0002 4614 3344 7057.

Fundraiser to help small family-owned farmers (farmers are one of the poorest segments of population in our country, families own a small plot of land and they're very threatened by big corporations, they're at the forefront of fighting for climate and the rural communities' traditional way of living with nature). The fundraiser is created by the International Centre of Rural and Agriculture Studies (Centro de Estudios Rurales y de Agricultura Internacional). This is the fundraiser shared by trustworthy Valencian associations that work in favour of rural communities and traditional cuisine, such as Tasta'l d'ací.

Fundraiser for the grass-roots cultural associations and cultural heritage guardians, organized by the Federation of Local Studies Institutes of the Valencian Country, the Coordinator of Local Studies Centres of the Catalan-Speaking Countries, the Federation of "Ateneus" of Catalonia, and the Ramon Muntaner Institute. Many local archives, centres of local studies, "ateneus" (social and cultural centres with an important task as a library for the community and as historians of the area, among other cultural activities) and other cultural associations headquarters have been destroyed. They are very important for the memory, history and culture of small areas. To write articles about the history and legends for this blog, I very often use work published by these local study groups, because most of the time they are the only ones working in detail on the historical and cultural heritage of their hometown. Here is the information on how to donate, as shared by the organizers:

Translation: Let's help the Valencian cultural and heritage associations affected by the 2024 floods. You can send your donations to [the bank number] ES98 3159 0066 91 3048828523 Or the BIZUM code 10586 (starting on 7th November 2024). You can send the receipt of your donation to: solidaritatcultura@fedinespv.org.

You can find more associations that are collecting donations in this document by Suport Mutu DANA València.

Thank you very much for caring.

[crazyyluvr]

Ahhhh that Jason fic was so good! I loved how you write him so stern and caring!

I was wondering if you could do another Jason fic where reader is sort of working herself weary, maybe she feels like she has something to prove especially with how powerful everyone is so she’s been volunteering for watches and missions and helping hedge and just everything she can around the ship and she starts to crack a bit so everyone tries to get her to take a break but she’s super stubborn and no one can except Jason on like his third try she finally gives in and rests?

(Like when he told Hazel to eat in your last fic, sort of that vibe it makes me weak in the knees!)

Overworked, Underappreciated (by the gods)

pairing: jason x gf!ares!reader

summary: Jason notices you're overworking yourself again, and despite him and everyone on the Argo II trying to tell you to take a break, you never really sit your ass down until he finally convinces you to do so.

genre: angst/comfort

wc: 2.6k

warning/s: cursing, fem reader, she/her pronouns, overworking, jason being stern, stubborn reader, mmm godly father issues, breakdown

note: thank you for your request anon!! i hope it's fine that i made this one kind of a continuation of this oneshot, but it can be read seperately. enjoy!

oneshot under the cut :: not edited

Jason always admired your hard work and determination.

Sure, you were constantly aggressive about it and telling everyone to fuck off if they complimented you on that, he still considered it one of the countless things that he loved about you.

But of course, there were times where that hard work and determination would lead to something unmanageable, like your tendency to overwork yourself.

You were an expert at hiding it, but Jason knew that beneath your tough and angry exterior, you always felt like you weren't giving enough despite giving a little too much already. You were a daughter of Ares, and your godly lineage didn't grant you much except for anger issues.

You weren't as good with weapons as your siblings. You definitely weren't as good at anything as Clarisse, your half-sister and your dad's favorite kid. Actually, all your other brothers and sisters had at least some sign that Ares acknowledged their existence. You on the other hand got nothing except that you could reach your boiling point seven times faster than the average person.

They have to thank Jason for being there to calm you down, because they all don't just feel like, but they know that if he wasn't with them, the ship would have sunk two days in the water or air.

They never really expected you to be the type to give all — and I mean, all your energy into whatever you need to do.

Replacing the ripped sails after a battle with some pirates? Step back. If not, you'd just push any one of them out of the way and grab the new sails from them and replace it on your own. Frank was a constant victim, despite being the burliest of them.

A large tentacle wrapped around the ship? They don't dare to think about chopping it into pieces before you came in, sword weaving through the monster like it was made of clay. Percy steps out from below decks to give the monster a little chat but slips on the blood it left in its wake.

Zeus/Jupiter decided to fuck around with them and send a lightning bolt striking almost right beside Percy? You'd immediately push him into the nearest demigod's arms and put out the fire yourself before the water boy could even process what was happening.

Even the simplest tasks around the Argo II, like cleaning the stables, rearranging the medbay, cleaning up the kitchen either after a meal or after the ship was constantly swaying and made a mess of fallen plates and food, you'd curse someone out just for trying to grab a broom or open their mouth to tell you that they can do it instead.

Jason was no exception to this treatment, and he didn't expect to be; he just wanted to make sure that you knew your limits as well as he did.

"You're low on medical equipment," Hedge grunted, stepping into the small dining room one afternoon while everyone was eating lunch. "I'm gonna go restock it."

Today was a slow day for the eight demigods, and they were grateful for it. All they had to do was the usual chores before they could chill anywhere on the ship.

Which is why no one was surprised you were the one who wanted to break the mundane routine. "I'll go with you," you huffed, standing up with your plate in your hands, maneuvering around the short half goat man to put the dirty dish in the sink. "I'll make sure your stupid fur brains doesn't get the wrong shit."

"Us satyrs are damn good healers, mind you!" Hedge bleated angrily.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah with colored leaves and rituals and shit."

Before Hedge could retaliate, Annabeth stepped into the conversation. "You should rest today. I can go with Hedge and help him pick out the right items."

"No need, Brains," You shot her down. "I can do this. Are you suggesting otherwise?" Your voice raised threateningly, making Annabeth raise her hands in surrender.

"No, but I —"

"Good." You turned back to Hedge. "Let's go before you get more dirt on floor I just mopped, old man."

You left the room without waiting for the satyr to follow. Hedge muttered colorful insults under his breath, moving to exit the dining as well before Jason stopped him by asking, "Coach, can you watch over her? She's been working constantly these past few weeks, and she hasn't really caught a break."

Hedge rose an eyebrow. "Can't you do that yourself? Aren't you her boyfriend or something?"

"I tried, but it's hard to convince her," Jason sighed, leaning back in his chair exhaustedly. "Just — look out for her, yeah? And don't tell her I told you."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Hedge waved him off. "It'll be my head."

The coach left without another word.

"I'm worried about her," Percy confessed, Frank and Piper nodding in agreement. "I tried asking her if she needed help yesterday, and she almost bit my head off."

"And you would've thought that she'd learn by now to stop herself when she starts to overwork again," Leo commented.

Hazel sighed. "If she doesn't give herself time to recharge, she's going to shut down."

Jason simply played around with his leftover food, deep in thought. "Yeah..."

—————

Thank the gods you returned without any issues besides the usual profanities exchanged between you and Hedge. He left soon after that, claiming that he had "business elsewhere," and said that they should get going on their journey without him.

They left the day after that. They knew he'd make his way back to camp eventually.

The streak of calm continued, even as the Argo II departed from the sea and launched into the air. There weren't as much monsters that showed up to annoy them like flies hovering in their ears.

You and Jason were on watch that night. Thankfully, there wasn't much of a threat in the clouds, so Jason just sat down on a random crate while you paced around, playing with the straps of your leather breastplate.

"Hey, you can sit down for a while," Jason said, watching you go to and from the large wooden post in the middle.

You scowled at him in response. "We're supposed to be on watch. If we relax, we fall asleep. If we fall asleep, monsters attack. If monsters attack, the others could get swept up in that shit knowing how stupid they are."

Your concern for your other crewmates was evident despite how much you tried to hide it by insulting their abilities.

"Sweetheart, its okay," Jason said, still trying to convince you. He wasn't feeling all that tired, which is why he could cover for the both of you. You, on the other hand, looked like you were going insane, the dark half-circles under your eyes apparent even in the weak and diluted moonlight. "You can for now. I promise I'll wake —"

"I can't rest!" Your voice cracked slightly as you whipped around to face him, your eyes wide with a wildness that caught Jason off guard and made him stand up in concern. "I... I just can't..."

You tried to walk away, but your knees collapsed from below you. "Woah careful!"

In a flash, your boyfriend was by your side, barely being able to catch you before you could fully crumple to the ground. "Easy, easy..."

He tried to put your arm around his shoulders so he could lead you to sit down on another crate, but you pushed yourself away from him. Being unable to support yourself, you fell down on your ass.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, moving to approach you, but you put up your hand to stop him.

"Fuck off, I don't need help," you said, trying to sound angry, but all Jason could hear was your exhaustion.

"Hey, stop being stubborn," Jason frowned, stepping towards you and putting your arm around his shoulders successfully this time, despite your protests and your struggles to get out of his iron grip.

"Fine, just — just put me down there," You gestured to the crate he was sitting on previously. He was originally going to bring you down to your room, but judging from the glance you gave him from the corner of your eye, you could still snap his arm in half if you wanted to.

And so, he obliged, making sure that your feet barely touched the ground as he basically carried you to your destination. He gently set you on the crate, making sure to stand close in front of you so that you wouldn't try to bolt.

"Explain," he said, crossing his arms and peering down at you. You turned your head away from his gaze, and he realized how vulnerable you looked: your eyes were darting around in a desperate attempt to stay alert, but they constantly glazed over, unfocused. Your hands were now fiddling with the strings of your hoodie, their movements slow and groggy. Your upper body was even swaying.

"I..." You started, but sighed and looked up at him. "It's stupid."

Jason's brows furrowed even more at your dismissal. "You almost collapsed from exhaustion. There has to be at least a valid reason for you to compromise your health like that."

You wanted to clamp your jaw shut, but Jason's intense glare made you open your mouth and speak. "You want to know? Fine, I'll tell you. Everyone relies on me — besides Twitchy Fingers — to do what is needed to keep this ship afloat by making sure it doesn't get completely destroyed by the Tartarus-spawn. Every time someone tries to do my job for me, I don't want them to because what if they fuck up and something bad happens? That's gonna be my fuck-up too. I —" You looked away again. "I just can't relax knowing that some bad shit might happen and it'll be my fault."

"I think you're underestimating how well the rest of us can do," Jason said lightly, chuckling a little as he tried to make lift the atmosphere up a little. It didn't work. "We can't do as well as you, of course, but we can manage."

"Oh please, I know damn well how good the rest of you are," You hissed, catching Jason off guard with the anger behind your words. "You all got your own skill sets that your godly parents planted in you that you got to fucking nurture. Even Annabeth, who doesn't have any actual powers, is more of a smartass than all of us combined."

Jason opened his mouth to retaliate, to say that you're downgrading yourself too much, but you didn't let him speak as your voice rose. "And what in the Tartarus did I get from my shitty dad? Fuckin' — fuckin' anger issues, that's what I got. Everything I'm good at — my fighting, my speed, everything — I did that. Ares gave me none of that. That was all me.

"And the moment I thought he'd actually look at me, that he'd acknowledge that I was his kid besides when he claimed me seven months after I came into camp," Your voice got louder still, cracking a little as your eyes got mistier, "is to pay a little visit to Frank in his Roman counterpart."

You stood up now, your body fueled with anger and frustration and other emotions that can't be described. "You wanna know the real reason why I work myself to the brink of exhaustion every time I do what I do, Jason?" Your smile looked maniacal. The few tears that escaped the confines of your lashes didn't really help. "It's because I don't fucking deserve to stand among you. I don't deserve to be on this quest. I don't deserve to be called a 'hero' when we return home as your godly parents shower you with love and attention while mine just thinks 'oh, my kid survived? I had a kid involved?'"

Your body was shaking, but you were done. You fell back down on the crate, holding your head in your hands.

Jason blinked, processing your breakdown. His own chest was contracting painfully as the weight of your words settled in his brain and his heart.

You were feeling this the entire time? Why didn't you say anything?

Your body flinched as you tried to contain a sob, snapping Jason back to reality.

He sat down beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. "Oh sweetheart," he sighed sympathetically. "It's okay to cry. Cry as hard as you need."

Jason expected you to push him off of you again, to tell him to not be stupid and to try and bottle your emotions up again. He hoped you wouldn't.

And you didn't. Instead. you took your face out of your hands and planted it on his shoulder, your own shoulder shaking terribly from your suppressed sobs. "Let it out," he cooed, and you didn't hesitate to drown your sobs on the fabric of his t-shirt, subconsciously moving even closer to his body.

He wrapped both his arms around you as he fixed his position, his upper body now almost fully facing you to give you more comforting hug.

He stroked the back of your head and whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you let all your pent-up anger, frustration, disappointment, and just overall sadness. He even planted light kisses over the parts of you that he could reach; your neck, cheek, temple, crown.

It took you a little while for your sobs to turn into little hiccups, but eventually, you were able to calm down. Jason didn't mind that his shoulder was soaked from your tears. He didn't mind that his spine was stiff from being in a slightly uncomfortable position for a period of time. He didn't mind that you were feeling weak and stupid.

Because even after all that, he still saw you as the strongest and most powerful person he knew.

"What about we go back to my room and rest?" Jason suggested softly. You lifted your head in protest, but Jason pushed it back down to his chest. "I'm sure Hazel and Frank are having trouble sleeping from the good nap they had earlier. They can cover for us."

"I don't want to burden them," You said weakly.

Jason immediately shook his head. "You're a burden to no one on this ship, okay? They won't mind. And besides, it's not weak to ask for a little help once in a while. No one thinks you're weak."

You looked up at him. "You sure?"

Jason nodded, smiling softly. "Absolutely. From what I can see, you're the strongest person here."

You raise an eyebrow. "You sure there's no bias there?"

"Yes I'm 100% sure," Jason said seriously, before breaking into a smile when a breathy laugh escaped your lips. You don't do it often, but Jason loved your laughs. They were always genuine, and Jason would do anything to make you laugh again.

"So, what do you say? Let's go to my dorm," Jason said, supporting you when he felt you moving to stand up.

"You better not do anything weird to me, Grace," you threatened, but there was no heat behind your words.

Jason smiled softly, leading you back below decks. "Never."

He left you in the dorm before he went to convince Hazel and Frank to cover their shift, promising that he'll make up for it. They didn't care. They were just happy that you were finally resting.

Once the blonde boy returned, he found that you were already curled up under the sheets, face relaxed and breaths coming out of you evenly. His eyes softened fondly at your peaceful and stress-free features.

He flipped the light switches, blanketing his room in darkness as he navigated under the sheets to join you. He gathered you up in his arms and curled against you, sighing in content.

"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered against your head, placing a small kiss on the back of it as he felt sleep slowly invade his vision. "I love you."

[angel122sthings]

Hi, given what your first post appears to be I’m going to explain some tumblr etiquette and I apologize if you think this is rude. It’s not meant to be. Don’t use tags to post negative things in, use a neg tag instead.

I’m also because you tagged Shubble going to take the opportunity to address some things you said on your post.

1. Why would she ever have posted or streamed with visible bruises? As someone who has been a fan of her for years, I don’t think you are aware of how little she streamed when she was the uk. She also most of the time was wearing long sleeves.

2. Any marks on Wilbur should be considered completely unrelated to the situation as neither of them have mentioned them as relevant. Wilbur’s had a chance to respond he never mentioned them, anything else is speculation and not fact

3.it was a vlog not a stream, and she did not sound angry in it. She was asking for keys.

4. Thé ace jesus is a joke from her community. She didn’t invent it. It is also completely unrelated and irrelevant.

5. They were in a relationship, well yes it is her responsibility to take care of her cat. Her problem was he’d offer and then go back on his word.

6.you can be in a long distance relationship and not feel distant that is a thing you can do if both parties put the effort in

7 she said it was consensual to begin with and that the biting wasn’t the problem. The problem was he was hurting her by doing it at an increasing frequency. To the point where they needed a safe word which she used and he didn’t let go. The safe word revokes consent. Also consenting you bring bit not the same as being hurt

8 we have no actual idea if she supports either Catie or Freddie as she didn’t actually make a comment on either one

9 there may be a reason why everyone stopping being friends with him, and that isn’t her fault

10/11/12 She told people to stop doxing and sending death threats on three different platforms. He is the one who had no response to that. She told people to start and told people to block anyone who was doing that. She is not responsible for the actions of other people

13 mental health issues don’t excuse abuse.

14 a plane ticket is far more expensive than hair dye or thrifted clothes. Having the money for hair dye does not mean a person can afford constant plane tickets.

Anyways, I hope you have a good day. If this isn’t the response you wanted to this post again I apologize use better tag etiquette next time.

Sadly this may have come off way more rude than you intended to be. I have stated this is something I have found proof and put together what I have heard. Seen. And talked about. She told you to stop and not interact than DNI. I never said mental health was even a EXCUSE. Mental health with never be an excuse for abuse. she supported Catie and even have stated it before. Catie was influenced by her coming out when she could have gone to court and gotten more money than she did through live streams. She never supported Freddie and that was shown. They both stated that it was consensual and the people she said may have witnessed it had stated that they never saw anything. They quit being friends with Wilbur because "support the victim". Wilbur was busy during their relationship he had no time to contact her unless it was in his free time he never even had time to stream as much with his music carrier so she should have been prepared for days without messages from him but she still complained. Never once was it stated that he had volunteered to take care of her cat. Her cat is her cat. I repeat it is HER CAT. Ace Jesus isn't only disrespectful in Christianity (your comparing her to jesus which goes against some unspoken rule. She can never compare to him.) but also for the lgbtq community. She was yelling it is heard in the background yet again his keys are his and he would have the right to refuse her his keys she probably didn't like that. The marks on wilbur during the relationship are very much proof that she may have abused him. Woman abusers are less than men abusers but that doesn't mean that they aren't manipulative and persuasive he may have never come out to say something because he would be scared of her ruining him. They wouldn't have just showed up in the UK streams. There are more streams even at twitchcon she wore short sleeves and nothing is showing like she said my conclusion it that during the relationship she was verbally abusive and physically abusive. In his music in MSR he had many lyrics about how abusive she was and how dismissive she was.

-Angel122sthings

("She didn't deserve to meet the technoblade before his death. Even her blood is useless to the blood god he would never except it. And I mean never.")

-❤️my wonderful baby boy James ❤️

(You can never insult my child.)

[pommunist]

Yeah, exactly! You'd think they'd be glad Léa brought up these issues! You'd think that if Quackity was so upset about his workers being mistreated, he would thank Léa and probably also talk to all his other workers to find out if there's more problems he didn't know about!

But instead we get the repeated statements about how we shouldn't listen to the leakers and how leakers are the reason why he can't talk to his employees and volunteers so it's actually their fault that the communication problems aren't being fixed

And now everybody's like "of course it's bad what happened to Léa and the other admins, but they shouldn't be leaking things because that just makes it difficult for Quackity to fix the problems :(" and these comments are just getting increasingly victimblaming, as if Léa was actually the main obstacle to improving the conditions of the workers

- 🐧

Even without talking about thanks or anything a « don’t send hate to the people speaking up » would have probably done wonders, because the harassment i’ve seen towards the different people who shared their stories, especially Lea, is insane.

People need to understand that loving something should means that you want it to be the best version of itself. And sadly it sometimes means you have to point what’s wrong with it so that it can be fixed accordingly.

The main threat to the qsmp now isnt people « leaking » things by pointing out its flaws (i’m using that word loosely because we could very well be talking about an illegal situation here and even if it doesn’t end up being recognised at such, people were still abused and exploited), it’s the fact that the necessary steps towards improvement don’t seem to be taken.

And on the human side of things I have a very hard time seeing people trying to pick the admins stories desesperatly trying to find things to doubt, or trying to find any thing to excuse Qstudios. And I’m just a random qsmp fan so I can’t even imagine how discouraging it must be to see this when you’re a victim or someone who had to see their friends go through this.

[bangrychannie]

Stray Kids Time Travel/Time Loop fic recs

Hello! It's been about a week since my last fic rec post so I wanted to post some more. This one is time travel/time loop themed! There's a surprising amount which is great bc it's one of my favorite tropes. Mostly Minsung with one Hyunlix!

If you know any that are not on this list PLEASE send them to me

When the Morning Comes by bitsori (Minsung | 1/1 | 32,047 | explicit)

“You're new,” Jisung proclaims. Minho snorts. “Am I?” “Well, I've never seen you here before.” “Because you know all of their wedding guests?” Jisung has to laugh. “I know most of Hyunjin’s side,” he says. “Well obviously I’m a friend of Seungmin’s.” Jisung pauses to stare, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Yeah,” he plays along. “But you’re new.” Minho chuckles. “You keep saying that. What does that mean?” “I mean that you’re new. Here. Today. New. I’ve experienced this wedding over thirty times now and—” his breath hitches because he really just said that out loud, but there’s an immediate flicker in Minho’s eyes that has him exhaling with relief. “Oh. Well.” alternatively: In which Jisung gets stuck repeating the day when his best friend gets married, only to meet a brand new friendly face a month into the grueling experience.

Ugh what a good fic. I'm sure you've all read this before but if not, you're welcome

After the Rain by bitsori (Minsung | 7/7 | 34,238 | Teen and up)

Jisung blinks, slowly taking in his surroundings. This isn't right, he thinks, rubbing his eyes open, forcing his vision into clearer focus. The ceiling is missing the collection of glow-in-the-dark stars he had stuck on there when he first moved in, not to mention the wallpaper color is all wrong. This isn't his room—heck, he realises as he rolls around the mattress, it doesn't even feel like his bed. The realisation sinks in and he shoots up to a sitting position. “What the fuck?” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes more furiously and looking around, almost expecting his surroundings to morph into something more familiar. They don't. In which: Jisung and Minho find themselves randomly switching lives, one day at a time, with no logical rhyme or reason that explains why.

Inspired by Your Name so you can imagine how it goes. Another fantastic story by bitsori (they have so many)

Sugar is Sweet by velooscuro (Hyunlix | 11/11 | 60,049 | explicit)

Minho needs guinea pigs before he can launch his time tourism company. Jisung is whipped enough to volunteer himself and Hyunjin for the job. Felix is very confused as to how two strange men can just appear in his broom cupboard out of the blue. Time Travel!AU wherein Jisung fucks everything up, Minho fixes everything, and Hyunjin and Felix are victims of it all.

This one is more traditional time travel and very cute the whole way through.

don't put off till tomorrow by Erbi (Minsung | 3/3 | 65,665 | Explicit)

“Hannie,” Minho exhales. “What did you see?” And Jisung can’t deny it anymore, not with Minho looking at him so openly, so sincerely waiting for his answer. Communicating to him that he’s not going to judge him, that he’s just going to accept whatever it is Jisung says. With a single fragile breath, everything he’s been keeping only to himself, the truth that’s been terrorising him, floats in the space between them. “I saw you die. Three times.” or: Jisung's night of venting at a bar quickly spirals when he meets a beautiful stranger with orange hair who doesn't pull any punches. Unbeknownst to him, the spiral goes much further than he might have anticipated. And he may not be the only one affected.

I'm pretty sure I recommended this in the last post but it's so good I'm putting it again. Genuinely one of the best pieces of literature that I've ever read

after the moment (with you) by alicexbunnyx (Minsung | 1/1 | 8,674 | Explicit)

“Jisung. I’m going to sound crazy, but time is frozen. I thought it was just me here.” Minho knows his name. He wasn’t sure if that was the case. With all the watching from afar Jisung does, he thinks that surely that’s the only thing his gorgeous neighbor knows about him. “You’re not crazy,” Jisung says matter-of-factly, “I’m going to sound crazier and say it’s my fault.”

This is time travel adjacent but I had to include it on this list because this story is adorable. Chef Minho is one of my fav things everrr! Also I think this is the shortest fic I've recced so far so sorry if you like one shots lol

It's Raining Somewhere Else by FutureLikeJicasso (Minsung | 1/1 | 8,010 | Teen and Up)

Nothing ever happens in Jisung’s town. Ever. So when the wide-eyed stranger Jisung fishes out of the pond in the local park claims to be a time traveller, well, could anyone really blame him for wanting to believe in something? What someone like Minho wants in a town like this - with a person like Jisung - he can’t really be sure, but he’ll take what he can get while it lasts. After all, even if Minho -was- a time traveller, why would he come back? ...unless he could sense that Jisung would maybe, slightly, kind of desperately like to see him again?

Another short and sweet one :)

kaleidoscope mind by vmnsie (Minsung | 1/1 | 30,421 | Teen and Up)

“You said you’ve been stuck for months. How many?” Minho eyed the ceiling, counting with his fingers before replying, “Last time I checked, it was the sixth month. So, I think it’s been… eight months now? I’ve kept track of it until…” He looked at Jisung, who was still waiting for the rest of the sentence without reading between the lines. Minho sighed, “Until I met you.” Or, Minho is stuck in a time loop and finds comfort in knowing Jisung is always willing to help him—even if he ends up forgetting about him every day.

This one is probably the angstiest on this list but I still luv it

one day to fall in love (countless ones to love you) by whatifidbeenthatauthor (Minsung | 1/1 | 22,018 | Mature)

Minho stopped in his tracks. He turned to face Han Jisung. He looked unbothered, still going on about his way. “You didn’t say Hi,” Minho said, forcing the voice to come out of his throat. “You always say hi, hyung.” Jisung turned to look at him, a smile playing on his lips. He looked amused. Minho’s mind wasn’t keeping up. “Today’s different, I guess,” Jisung shrugged. “I went with a variation.” Minho would have found him insufferable, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to process the frustrating sensation that usually accompanied Jisung’s presence. Minho blurted out something that might have him sent to a madhouse. “No. I’ve lived today six times. You- you always say hi, hyung.” He felt crazy. More than usual. Jisung laughed. “What the fuck,” he said, and Minho knew he sounded insane, but could this kid please not be so arrogant? “Me, too. I thought I was the only one,” he continued, and he changed Minho’s life. *** Minho's life is boring, predictable, borderline uneventful. Until he gets stuck in a time loop. And, with him, his friends' friend, Han Jisung, a crazy dude who's only into skating. And whom Minho doesn't necessarily like.

Another time loop one (have I told you I like time loops? lmao) and somehow they're all fantastic

Anyways that's all the time/time travel related fics I have! Like I said if you have one that you like that is not on here PLEASE send it to me I'm begging on my hands and knees.

My plans for the next rec lists are fantasy au, college au, demons, and fake dating trope

[anonymous525]

Headcanons for Nurse Ann because she’s scary

*note. I apologize for the choice of the gif. But this is important for later.

Her name was Annette Lusen, a village nurse back in the 50s-60s. She was quiet and hyper-focused with her tasks, as she took her duties seriously.

She volunteered for the post-sleep experiments in the name of science, to fully test the limits of a human body with demonic microbes inside them. She was their only test subject.

Because the demons originated from the Underrealm, this means that Zalgo could be able to communicate to anybody with the microbes. This included Annette. Every daily microbe injection, every physical test that put her body through harsh situations, her mental state gets corrupted by Zalgo’s voice. Despite all this and the scientists’s concern, she let the experiments continue.

When she grew out of control, she attacked every scientist except for a few, and was killed by security. The lab was left abandoned, until she came back to life. Zalgo’s power finally took her over, becoming an emotionless and cold being, seeking to fulfill her bloodlust… and to follow her dark lord’s commands.

Thanks to Zalgo, she is immortal. For long decades has she been a threat to those who seek balance, sending out her packs of demons to kill anybody on sight.

Since the experimentation days, her skin always fell apart, and the scientists had to sew her together daily, yet she never really cared. Now, she used the skin of her victims to sew into herself, able to make her more resistant to harm.

Her limbs are easily detachable and re-attachable. Cut an arm off and she’ll put it back in place. She also has a strong healing factor, so she usually leaves unscathed.

For her chainsaw, think of Ivy’s whip sword from Soul Calibur. It’s kinda used like that. She turns it on, then wraps them around her victims while the blades sliced and diced.

She is very strong and fast, you think a super zombie is gonna be all skin and bones? Good luck with that.

As Zalgo’s proxy, it is her duty to enforce his orders. To kill. To execute. To hunt. All in order to help expand his hellosh empire on the mortal realm. Anybody who shows weakness or hesitation will face severe punishment. And you best hope you don’t run into her.

Overall, scary zombie grandma. 10/10.

[marshmallowprotection]

Hi, i think i have sent this ask before, but I can't find it on your profile and I'm not sure now if I have actually sent it or not (if youre not answering for a reason or have posted it already and I can't find it, I am sorry for sending it again)

What would happen in a scenario where a child suddenly falls into post-Saeran-AE!Choi twins and MC's life? Maybe a kid (perhaps a girl? Saeran would be such a girl dad) who was in the Minteye and knows Saeran, or a kid who magically appeared on their doorstep, perhaps a lost third (half) sibling. I'd enjoy anything, if theyre not MC's and Saeran's biological kid and they meet when the kid is already above toddler age (I'm thinking around 6-12).

Thank you so much and have a great day!

Mint Eye didn't take in young children as far as we're aware. They target people who feel like they're at their wit's end, the lowest of the low, looking for a place that will accept them when the world won't do that. At worst, some of the victims are likely young adults, barely able to call themselves adults at all, considering Saeran was roughly 18-19 when Rika whisked him away from the cathedral. So, any idea of that nature is not remotely plausible to me.

The number of members in Mint Eye can be anywhere from triple to quadruple digits depending on the timeline you're in. There are more of them in Casual and Deep Story, whereas there's a smaller number in Another Story because she's still in the process of building the cult to the place it would be if MC hadn't been directly brought to Mint Eye. As far as the identities of the victims, like I said, you can assume the victims are across the board.

My assumption has always been a huge pool of people from the ages of 18-60, both in members and in people Rika has employed to help her run the damn place. Rika doesn't discriminate, she just... wants people who would follow her to hell so she'll never have to be afraid of people abandoning her for not being an "angel". Most of the people she's brought into Mint Eye come from the pool of those that she's encountered while volunteering and doing work for the RFA.

There is no common denominator between believers except "societal outcast" and "preys on the vulnerable". Either you're helping Rika hold people down because she asked for your muscles, creating the elixir at her side since she couldn't do that alone, or you're someone stuck in Mint Eye's system and can't get out now that you're trapped. It's... not a pretty picture.

Now, we've never had confirmation of this outside of assumptions and bare minimum game data, but it's widely assumed in the fandom that Saeyoung and Saeran have half-siblings. I don't believe that they have siblings that were fathered similarly to them, however. We are all familiar with how much Saejoong detests the "stain" both of his sons bring to his "picture-perfect family man" identity.

It's implied that he had a fling with Mother Choi somewhere near the start of his career in politics. We sincerely don't know the who, what, where, when, or why of it but we do know he wasn't deep enough into his career where he considered this a problem he couldn't just throw money at. He threw money at Mother Choi to keep her quiet, but he also had enough means behind him to have people follow her around just in case she slipped up and he could get rid of her and the boys.

It's hard to assume a lot of details here, but what I can say is he's not the kind of man to repeat something he considers a "mistake". I have assumed from the start that he married someone who fit the lifestyle of his career choice, a woman of status and means, who was willing to bow her head and have children with him to ensure her means of success as well. He isn't the kind of man who marries for love, we can tell that from how he scoffs at Saeran and MC in the RAE.

So, I think he has a marriage of convenience that works for him and his official wife. People assume he's a nice, orderly family man and it helps the bullshit he's trying to sell. He likely has one or two children he considers his as well. These children are younger than Saeran and Saeyoung, but as to how much younger, I don't know for sure. I would assume the oldest they could be would be younger than them by a few years, so think (14-17.)

I've considered how Saeran and Saeyoung would feel about those kids in the past. Saeyoung wanting nothing to do with them because they may be sympathetic to Saejoong. He doesn't hate them, but he can't risk being around anyone who might see Saejoong as a man who deserves anything but hatred. Saeran wanting to understand him to find closure is one thing, but he doesn't want to risk being told that Saejoong was a "good father" by someone who will never understand what he and Saeran suffered.

Saeran is far more willing to open the door to his half-siblings because he can stomach certain things his brother can't. He knows they experienced a different trauma from him, and he wants to be there for him if they want to be there for him. Saeyoung wants the door closed because he feels nothing but hatred for Saejoong, but Saeran is willing to crack open that door for other victims. It doesn't make one twin "better" than the other, it just shows they have a very different mentality on peace of mind. Good for them for establishing boundaries.

However, considering what I just mentioned about the kids Saejoong considers "legitimate"—I think they'll be okay as long as their mother isn't an entirely bad person, too. I don't know if the mother would be okay with the twins interacting with them, or if she would ever let the group interact in any capacity. I can't imagine these kids would end up in Saeran or Saeyoung's care, that's for sure! It's nothing on these boys, but they just earned established identities, and deserve time to exist freely on their own. No court would shove these kids at them.

However, I will say out of these scenarios, Saeran or MC can stumble across a child in a difficult situation. He already mentioned that he wouldn't mind adopting or fostering in the future if that's something you would be interested in! So, of course, if you want to imagine this outcome, you've got canon to back you up here. Saeran comes across as a girl dad, but even if he had a son, he would be the best boy dad, too!

I'd say there would need to be more specifics to say what would or wouldn't happen, but I assure you Saeran and MC would make the most wonderful parents together. Saeran sneaks them extra scoops of ice cream after dinner, MC pretends not to see that, Saeran gives them every blanket in the house to make a fort, and MC brings all the pillows so it's comfort, and so forth. There's no bad outcome here.

[ghostradiodylan]

So, it's one year after the night at Hacketts Quarry. And everyone's kind of freaking out because, that's what trauma does to you. So basically what would everyone do that night?

Also, thank you for keeping this fandom alive

Ooh this is a fun ask!

Sorry this took so long! I had to chew on it for a bit and then I forgot it in my drafts!

Okay, so it's August 22nd 2022. The moon is cooperating by not being full (it's a waning crescent, to be precise). It's also a Monday and it could be the first day of college/university for anyone going, but let's imagine they all go back a little later since that seems to be the case in the game itself.

We'll imagine everyone survived because otherwise there are fewer of them to talk about and everyone is way sadder. I think one thing they're definitely not doing is going back to Hackett's Quarry in some kind of misguided Until Dawn style return to the scene of the trauma trip. Even if the werewolves are gone, there's still a ghost out there and that's how horror movie sequels get made!

They might do a quick zoom or hit up the group text just to check in, but I don't think they'd necessarily all get together. It would be a little intense for an anniversary, I think.

Max & Laura are endgame, so obviously they're still together, and I'd like to imagine they'd plan a little getaway for themselves (preferably one where Max doesn't have to drive). They'd want it to be something completely unlike the woodsy setting they spent the night in last year. Maybe they'd book a nice hotel for a long weekend not too far from home, just to have a break. Or maybe they'd do something big like take an Alaskan cruise. (Can they afford that as two grad school aged students whose lives just got turned upside down a year ago? Probably not, but it's a nice idea! Maybe if there was a victim's compensation fund or they sold their story to Netflix...) Water all around means zero werewolves! Max will keep comparing their accommodations with those of the North Kill jail, as he will do on every vacation now. ("Look honey, the toilet's in its own room and not an open concept bathroom like the last place we stayed!")

Emma talks about how she wanted to go to the spa after camp in one variation of her scene in the lodge basement, so maybe she'd have a nice pampering session for herself. Mani/pedi, facial treatment, massage, then chilling at home in a fluffy robe and slippers. Kat @itscomingupaces headcanoned Emma acquiring a tiny dog postcanon, which I love, so she probably has a tiny dog in her lap too. Maybe she'd do a brief vlog to reflect on her progress over the course of the year, assuming her viewers have a general idea that something traumatic happened to her and it wasn't all covered up. She'd throw on a comfort movie like Tangled or Singin' in the Rain and get her beauty sleep.

Nick would probably like to forget this anniversary, but I doubt he'd be so lucky in just a year. He has a lot of guilt about the way he treated Abi, though he wasn't really in control at the time. He'd probably try to do something that made him feel good about himself, like volunteer work. I could see him working on a Habitat for Humanity house or walking dogs at an animal shelter. He's almost certainly apologized profusely already, but if he's living anywhere close to Abi, he might offer to take her to dinner. If not, maybe it would be a good time to send her a card. Or an email.

Abi has definitely channeled some of her trauma into her art, so she might take the day to work on a new piece, maybe something a little less based in realism and a little more based in emotion. Maybe she'd incorporate some mixed media or sculpture into it. I go back and forth about shipping her with Emma or with Nick (or neither, or both) but maybe she'd get a manicure with Emma if she's not getting dinner with Nick (she wouldn't be up for the full spa day, though, that's just too much of strangers touching her and talking to her). Or maybe she'd do both, though that would be a lot of doing for our little introvert!

Jacob & Kaitlyn have hopefully patched up any bad feelings stemming from Jacob sabotaging the van because as childhood friends, I think they'd want to help each other when difficult anniversaries like this one come up. I forget who originally suggested it but I now strongly believe the headcanon that they are longtime karaoke buddies and they probably go get a private karaoke room and scream-sing away their angst while getting really embarrassingly drunk. It's fine, they'll get an Uber back to Kaitlyn's and eat an entire pizza later.

Ryan would want to go pay his respects to Chris, Kaylee, and Caleb Hackett. He has very complicated feelings about the family and their role in everyone's nightmare a year ago, but he still has affection for them and feels a duty to remember them as they were when they weren't transforming into flesh-eating monsters. I think he'd want to go visit their gravesites back in North Kill, take them some flowers, and clean off the headstones if the other Hacketts aren't around to do it. I'd like to imagine that he and Dylan would have figured their shit out by then, but whether they're a couple or not I think they'd definitely be in touch and Dylan would probably offer to drive Ryan out there and keep him company if Ryan would let him (if they still haven't gotten together, they probably have some things to talk about).

Dylan picks up some food on his way home, takes an edible, curls up with his cat, and watches the original 80's version of Cosmos with Carl Sagan. It's got a retro futuristic vibe that's very comforting. Some people get anxiety thinking about the vastness of space, but Dylan finds it oddly soothing to think that his problems are actually very small in the grand scheme of things in an ever-expending universe. Ryan can come too, if he wants (he probably does).

[alwaysmypearl]

Haymitch and The Old There-before

So a little bit ago, I told @rosegardeninwinter (i think it was you) not to “get me started on Haymitch and his children”

Here’s the result of that sentiment, with an inspiration from my obsession with TBOSAS music.

You're headed for heaven

The sweet old hereafter

And I've got one foot in the door

But before I can fly up

I've loose ends to tie up

Right here, in the old there-before

17 years old.

Before mentoring his first pair of District 12 victims, his nightmares cycle between the light fading out of Maysilee’s eyes, and finding his mother, brother, and his girl covered in blood in his bedroom.

Maybe if he drinks he’ll fade to the old hereafter with them. The sweet melody his mom would sing to him as she hung the laundry or stroked his hair by the fire.

Snow won’t let him go yet, but he sure does have one foot in the door.

And I'll be along

When I've finished my song

When I've shut down the band

When I've played out my hand

When I've paid all my debts

When I have no regrets

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

25 years old

Something keeps him fighting for the usually measly Seam kids that get thrown in his care year after year. Maybe, just maybe, one will win. One will win and his job can be done.

He owes it to them. The only people he ever loved. Maybe their deaths will mean something if one of those kids can win.

He yells commands as he sits in a chair guzzling white liquor, watching the newest little one train with a spear. She’s good, but not good enough. A sword is buried into her chest on the second day.

Six die of dehydration.

Four of starvation.

He never is given any money to send to them, and he can’t use his own.

Two die from mutts.

One drowns.

One gets bashed in the head with a brick.

Another eats poison.

One falls off of a cliff.

One dies of infection.

He remembers all of their names. But this is the last year he will.

And I'll catch you up

When I've emptied my cup

When I've worn out my friends

When I've burned out both ends

When I've cried all my tears

When I've conquered my fears

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

32 years old

He’s no longer afraid to completely drown himself in drink. The 30 dead children he’s mentored fade from memory with each sip. There is nothing left. His heart is stomped down, his tear ducts are empty.

But something, just something, keeps him alive.

The small flicker of hope that something could change. That a tribute could come along and win. They might not radicalize the games, but at least he wouldn’t be a lone mentor anymore.

Despite being intoxicated till the room blurs on most days, he still pays attention. There are murmurs of revolution, but it is not time.

And I'll bring the news

When I've danced off my shoes

When my body's closed down

When my boat's run aground

When I've tallied the score

And I'm flat on the floor

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

40 years old

No tribute has had the power to catch his eye like this. A volunteer. A volunteer in District 12? A starving Seam child, no less.

And the boy. He’s strong, and his tearful eyes still gleam with a bit of charm.

Just as he was about to give up completely- as the murmurs of rebellion slowed and he faded more and more into oblivion, they arrive.

Not only do they catch his eye, but the eye of President Snow- and that drives him to seek revenge with his two embers: a charming bakers boy and a songbird turned hunter.

She reminds him of himself. Hardened by Capitol cruelty with only a mind of survival for herself and her family.

The boy, however, reminds him of his girl. Steady, but peaceful. Knowing every move of every person in the room. He cares about others deeply and has hope in everyone but himself.

So when the boy tells him he’s been in love with the hunter since they were kids, it stabs him with both grief and an idea.

He can work with this. He can create a story. He can make them catch the eyes of all of Panem. Create two Capitol darlings that could both distract and maybe tear down the entire system. But he can’t think like that. Not yet.

He trains them hard and with intention, talking about fires and food over breakfast, and finding water and knife skills over dinner.

But he still keeps them at an arms length. He found out a long time ago that the Capitol kills anything he loves.

But they slowly chip away at that distance.

The pride he feels when the girl fires an arrow at the Gamemakers could have melted snow.

When the boy captures the Capitol audience with just a smile and a joke about showers, he knows he’s a prideful mess of a drunk.

When they both survive the bloodbath at Cornucopia- they simultaneously run him ragged and make him feel like he can soar.

He told the boy to spice up the “act”, but he knows the girl loves him back. What can he say, she’s just like him.

He gets to do what he’s never done before- talk to sponsors and send gifts upon gifts of food and medicine.

He watches as they take the arena by storm with strategy, humility, love, and resilience.

But the further they get into the Games, the more he struggles to think of a way to save both of them.

The girl shows him that she really is like him, but maybe smarter (though he would never admit that) as she pulls out the berries.

He could have torn the whole place down out of happiness when they won.

But that all came crashing down as he realized he created what he creates best: people he loves who are hated by the Capitol because of him.

So then comes the endless dance of trying to protect them- because now the game of mentor really never ends.

They are both alive and in danger by his own hand.

When I'm pure like a dove

When I've learned how to love

Right here, in the old there-before

When nothing is left anymore

42 years old

Somehow, they all survived.

The guilt nearly killed him as the boy was tortured in the Capitol.

And when he watched the girl fade faster and faster without him and with a new monster instead.

He saw himself. He saw how he was broken when the Capitol used the love of his life to garner control.

That scared him more than ever.

So he fought for her behind the scenes in late night meetings, kept her fed and on meds, and held her when he was allowed to.

Had he not been able to focus on her and the war efforts, he would have faded too.

Because long gone was the charming bakers boy that reminded him of his girl.

When it was all set and done, the guilt of what he had put them through kept him alone in his own house. But as things grew warmer and all of them healed, he realized that maybe that’s what being a parent was. Astonishing guilt coupled with pride, longing, and the willingness to rebuild.

But what did he know? He wasn’t a parent…

So nearly 25 years later, when he’s old and grey, and a new little one starts asking questions, he has an answer.

“Papa Haymitch, the teachers at school started talking about the war. How did you and Mama and Daddy survive it?”

“Love, little one. Love, and hope, and a lot of resilience- the willingness to keep going and fighting for what’s right. Your parents taught me how to love again. And if we didn’t have each other, we wouldn’t have made it, precious.”

Right here, in the old there-before.

[writereleaserepeat]

Hear No Evil - Chapter 4

Previous // Next

CW: bbu, bbu-adjacent, pet whump, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization, dehumanizing intent by using it/its pronouns, ableism, food mention, starvation

[A/N at the end of the chatper]

Rowan spent fifteen minutes pacing in his hallway before he settled on who he would call. A lump lodged in his throat every time he passed by the box the boy arrived in - what was he even supposed to do with it now? - and his heart fluttered whenever his finger hovered over his chosen contact. 

“How are you supposed to help this victim recover if you can’t even make a phone call, you idiot?” Rowan chastised himself as he rubbed his palm against his brow. Rationally, making a call was the best way to get himself and his new houseguest some help. Rationally, Rowan knew that this had to happen sooner or later. But rationality hadn’t exactly been governing Rowan’s choices over the past two days. 

It took another two minutes of anxious pacing before he sat at the kitchen table, hit the call button, and heard the phone ring once, twice, three times and-

“Hey there, Rowan,” the familiar and ever-cheerful voice said, and it hit Rowan like a ray of golden sun. “What’s up, man? You doing alright after the liquidation event yesterday? I know those are hard on you.”

Rowan paused, took a breath, and closed his eyes. Now or never.

“Listen, Grey, I might have done something a little impulsive when I was there.” The entirety of his admission wasn’t quite ready to come to Rowan’s lips. All of a sudden his throat was dry, and his knee bounced beneath the table. 

“Please don’t tell me they clocked you,” Greyson groaned. Greyson - just Grey to Rowan - was the current Vice President of the Pet Liberation Front, North American Division. Greyson also happened to be Rowan’s best friend. They’d known each other since they onboarded at PLF together more than a decade ago, and although their paths had diverged, a common mission still united them. Grey had taken on pet liberation as his full-time job, and Rowan had stuck with the weekend volunteer gigs. 

“No, nothing like that,” Rowan said hastily. “No cops, no drama, no one suspected a thing. I even got all the footage you asked for. But I uh… I saw a victim there. He was just different, okay? I can’t tell you what it was, not exactly, but there was something about him that I’ve never seen before. I looked at him and I just- I couldn’t say no, so I- I rescued him. Cash upfront for a lifetime contract, signed on the warehouse floor, delivered this morning. He’s in my spare bedroom right now.”

“Jesus Christ,” Grey muttered, and Rowan could picture his exasperated face from hundreds of miles away. The other man only continued after releasing a deep sigh. “You aren’t trained as a rescuer, you haven’t been assigned a rehabilitator, and there’s no way we can get him in for a medical work-up on such short notice. You're in way over your head with this.”

“I know, I know.” Rowan could concede that he fucked up, just a little, or maybe more than a little. But the boy was alive in that spare room rather than being burned to ash in the industrial cremator. That had to count for something, right?

“What’s wrong with him, huh?” Grey asked this over the sound of distant keystrokes, the frustration in his voice already dissipating. “You purchased him at a liquidation event, which means there's something they determined was defective, so this isn’t even a standard rescue case. Give me some details and I can try to connect you to a rehabilitator for emergency intervention. If you send me scans of the purchase papers - they should be in his box with the instruction manual - I can also open a rescue file in our system for him.”

Rowan let out a soft breath of relief. Grey had shifted into his rescue-oriented mindset, which meant that if he intended to continue scolding Rowan, it would at least come at a later time.

“I- I don’t know why he was sent for liquidation. He’s only been here for a few hours, and I’ve been too focused on not making a mess of things to figure it out. The WRU agent said that he had stopped listening to direct commands, but that’s all the information I got. He hasn’t reacted to a single thing I’ve said this whole time. Physically, he seems to be in decent shape. Walking, kneeling, any kind of movement, he had no problem. There’s the usual scarring and some fresh wounds around his cheeks, ears, and neck, but that’s it.” Rowan thought back to the deep wounds gouged into the boy's head, and again wondered what sort of torment would cause such persistent injuries. A shiver crept up his spine, but Grey cut in before Rowan's imagination could get the best of him.

“Hmm. Alright. It looks like our roster has one volunteer rehabilitator about five miles from your address, an Allison Herrera. She’s been with the PLF for four years now, and she’s assisted in more than ten successful rehabilitations with different rescuers in your area. I’ve sent her your contact information, and she doesn’t have any other cases at the moment, so you should expect to hear from her soon.”

“You are a miracle worker, Grey.” Unlike just a few minutes ago, Rowan was no longer in this alone. Help was on its way. Of course, as the rescuer, he knew he would have to do most of the work. The most a rehabilitator could offer him was guidance, advice, assessment. But by god, Rowan was going to take it.

Grey gave a soft, strained chuckle. 

“No, you’re the miracle worker today. You gave that boy a second chance at life, and that’s worth more than all the money in the world. I wouldn’t ever recommend doing what you’ve just done, but I know you did it with a good heart and good intentions.”

“Yeah. I just… I couldn’t let him go. Not this one, not this time.” 

Grey sighed again, and Rowan liked to imagine that he was smiling.

“Now get back there and try to settle your new houseguest in. Remember, it's firm suggestions, not commands, are the best to begin the transition process. Conversational tone, soft voices, lots of praise. Read through the PLF rescue manual, and then read it again. Allison will tell you more when you end up connecting.”

“Alright, I’ll do my best. Thank you, really. I promise I’ll try to call you at some point when I’m not in crisis mode.”

“Not holding my breath, bud. You just take care and keep me updated.” And with that, the line went dead, and Rowan was back on his own. 

---

Pet almost let one tear fall down its face as it soaked in the newness of everything around it. Kneeling was hard after so many hours in the box, but that was okay. Pet had done things that were so much harder. These floors weren’t even cement, so it thought maybe it could even kneel all day without its knees bruising. 

The food Master left was still just out of reach, and Pet's stomach was filled with the daggers of hunger, but Pet remembered Master’s words with gospel-like reverence. Don’t eat. So it didn’t. If this was Pet's first test in its new home, it would prove itself to Master, it would show just how obedient it could be.

Usually it was easy for Pet’s mind to grow empty, for it to submit to the nothingness, to surrender wholly to a place without pain. It wasn’t meant to think, it was trained not to. But today, Pet was struggling not to think. There was too much new. It was more frustrated than ever that it couldn't quite hear its new Master’s voice. It couldn’t tell if it was a scratchy voice, or if it was a soft one, or if it was a warm, deep roar. All Pet knew was that there were distant, muted words that floated beyond its grasp. 

If Pet was going to be good, it had to learn fast. Even if it didn’t have the exact words, it had to learn what Master wanted, and what Master expected of it. The better Pet anticipated its Master's needs, the less it got punished. A reliable pet was a good pet.

Even when it got hard to hear its old Master’s commands, Pet knew him well. Pet knew what time breakfast was to be prepared, how Master liked his floors cleaned, and which tools to offer up for punishment when Master was angry. It was routine, predictable, and even if it couldn’t hear every exact command, it was comforting to Pet. Every day was the same. There were no guesses, no surprises. Days and pain all bled into one another as the silence grew. Every day was the same, every ache anticipated. 

That was, until it was dropped back off at the facility for re-training. Discarded.

Not all of this new was bad. New Master smelled like no other Master that Pet had ever had - he smelled almost like bread fresh from the oven. The house had soft wooden floors, not cold tile, and the light came from soft, yellow bulbs. It was warm here, and the space was snug with narrow halls and close walls. It wasn’t particularly clean, at least not as clean as its old Master would have expected, but Pet didn’t mind. 

And since it hadn’t heard its new Master yell, then Pet thought that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t suffer much more pain today. The idea of punishment made its heart flutter uncomfortably in its chest. 

Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t flinch. Don’t think. Calm down. You belong to Master. Master can do with you as he pleases. You are Master’s property. Your only concern is to listen to Master, please Master, obey Master’s every command. 

Before Pet could try to escape to blissful nothingness once more, Master’s feet appeared in the doorway. They sidestepped the plate - still untouched - and came closer to Pet. It braced its muscles as subtly as possible, preparing for the inevitable strike. There was another mumbling of words, just as indistinct as before.

Pet stopped breathing when a hand touched its chin, ever so gently, and titled its face upwards.

---

A/N: Wow! Thank you all so much for the outpouring of love I have received for this story. I must admit I abandoned it back in October as my life got busy, but I have a total of fifteen chapters currently written, with more on the way. So yes, this work is continuing!

Reading the kind tags and comments so many folks have left genuinely brought tears to my eyes. Your kindness has been overwhelming in the best possible way. Thank you, and I hope you continue to enjoy!

I think I got everyone who asked to be tagged for this, but please ask if you would like to be added! Please let me know if you have been added in error, and you will be promptly removed.

Taglist: @honey-is-mesi @aswallowimprisoned @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @honeycollectswhump @rekiroyalstraightprincemaru @tragedyinblue @clairelsonao3 @octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @peachy-panic

[astralix]

Act 005 Do Better

Pretty Guardian ✶ Sailor Moon

Characters: Original Characters, Canon Characters-mentioned Rating: Teen, Older Teen Genre: Angst, Action, Fantasy/Magical Girl Song: “Starting Over” Originally from Final Fantasy XIII-2

Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, just my interpretation of the Zodiac Senshi, Sailor Phoenix and Sailor Ophiuchus.

✦✶✦

Losing ground, losing myself, Darkness comes alive I find myself at night and In daytime I hold on

✦✶✦

She started over and over.  One time it was because of her sister getting bullied out of primary school.  The second time was because her sister’s dream high school was in the Juuban area.  She was the golden child of the family, and there was nothing the girl could do about it.  She had to go with the flow.  It was not as if she made many friends either.  Her nose was stuck in a book or playing video games over the years.

She watched as her mother fawned over her older sister’s achievements, but only ever told her younger daughter, Emiko, that her achievements were merely “acceptable”.  Emiko tried reminding her parents that she should get rewards like her sister does for each of her own achievements.  However, they either could not afford it at the time, or they were running late and the store closed before they got home.  Sometimes, Emiko was told she had to surpass her sister or “do better”, but it seemed nigh impossible.

Her sister graduated with amazing grades in her subjects.  She was the Valedictorian in her year, while Emiko was maybe in fourth or third place.  Her sister went to private schools, while the family only had enough money to send Emiko to public schools.  It just was not fair, but there was nothing Emiko could do but come in last place for her parents and her sister.  If she got a terrible grade, she was punished, but if her sister got a terrible grade, her sister was told she should study more and that she tried her best.

Emiko merely held in her sigh when she was told that the parents found a good school for her older sister.  She wanted to go to whatever this academy was too, but her parents only saved enough for her sister to go.  Her sister wanted everyone to be proud of her, while Emiko wanted nothing to do with her family.  It would mean they were moving, and Emiko could not attend the middle school of her dreams.  She had wanted to board at the school just to get away from her neglectful and troublesome family.

Her family were not the only ones that sung her older sister's praises.  It was nearly everyone in a given area.  From teachers and important members of the town or village’s political climate, Emiko was stuck hearing her sister’s achievements and praises.  She would have to tell her sister their regards, and she did, diligently.  However, she hated doing so.

She had to do better.  So, she foregone friends and family outings to study and attend extra classes to get better scores than her sister.  She had to do better.  So, she attended various clubs and extracurriculars for her future resume and CV.  She had to do better.  So, she volunteered her time at various shelters.  She had to do better.  Until she could not decide what to do.

Emiko was deciding what to do to finally get the recognition she felt she deserved when she noticed a store had opened up.  There was a huge sale.  The sales were on items for more than fifty percent, which was strange coming from a store opening sale.  She was wary of the shop, but it seemed to have tantalizing specials on plants.  Perhaps…

She shook her head.  It was best she did not, because most of the time these sales were perpetuated by a henchman from an enemy beyond that of the solar system.  There was a little voice in the back of her head telling her would it be nice if her sister fell victim to one of those scams?  She took a deep breath, trying to determine when her bus would arrive.

Wouldn’t it be better if she was out of your hair?

Her eyes widened at the small voice getting gradually louder.

Wouldn’t it be better if you were the golden child instead?

She was horrified.

Admit it, you just want her gone!

She clapped her hands over her ears to try to quiet this inner voice.

“That isn’t true!” she called.  However, her eyes widened when other students waiting for the bus home glanced over at her outburst.  She nodded, apologetically, and kept her head down.

What on earth was going on?  She must have been tired.  When was the bus going to get here?  She checked her cellphone again only to discover her reflection was smiling back at her.

Admit it, the reflection moved her lips to form the words but no words came out.  Emiko dropped her phone in fear.  The students waiting for the bus with her glanced at her again.  One of the boys picked up her phone and handed it back to her.

“Thank you,” Emiko said, and immediately pocketed her phone without another glance at it.  She must have been tired from cram school.

Yeah, that had to be it.  She glanced at the store again.

Still, she should take advantage of the sale should she not?  Then, again she should not.  It would be an obvious scan but maybe she could give her sister a good scare?  She balled her hands into fists and bit her bottom lip.

Nah, the sale would not be up much longer anyways.

Except, it was not.  The sale had been up for more than a week.  The voice in the back of her mind was getting louder with every day.

One day she had taken the bus, and decided to purchase one of the items on sale for her perfect sister…

[slashingdisneypasta]

Oh god... Oh God Slashing, my man, I just got this thought and I NEED to put this here while it's still fresh in my mind.

Ok so you and I both write Wheezy being handsome, yeah? Especially when he cleans himself up and looks like a cologne commercial without trying?

What if Wheezy was like the groups Harper and Smartass would be Buckman pimping him out? Yeah, Greasy is already throwing himself at women, though it's safe to assume that that doesn't make women swoon XD so if for whatever reason, the group needed to seduce somebody, Smarty knows he's gotta send in Wheezy. Oh I imagine Greasy would be miffed XDD

Your thoughts?

Omg! I'm imagining that scene in Atlantis where the team is trynna 'decide' who should go schmooze Kida and Mole (Greasy) keeps popping up like 'I will do it!', 'I am your man!', 'For the good of the team, I will do it!', until Rourke (Smartass) smacks Milo (Wheezy), who could not care less, on the shoulder and goes 'Thanks for volunteering', causing Mole Greasy to start sobbing XDDD

Anyway- I love this. Here's a

Wheezy Weasel x Fem! Reader x Greasy Weasel || Drabble

Plot: Wheezy is instructed to charm Y/N, the recently ex girlfriend of a powerful Mafia toon in town that they have had some trouble with for years, and get information out of her (Like where has he run off to?)- except Greasy has a huge Thing for Y/N and he's very insulted that he wasn't given this job, and now Wheezy has to deal with Manipulative Pervert antics.

Warnings: Greasy bring Oppertunistic (Seeing Y/N's heartbroken drunkenness as an In), and just like... being himself. Also I'm not sure if this is coherent 😅

Greasy Weasel's POV

"Alright, Wheez- "As soon as Smartass glances at the smoker he does a double take, scowling. And I dont blame him, el fumador looks like a disgraceful mess- but what else is knew really?? I roll my eyes, crossing my arms. "Fucken hell, Wheezy. Brush your hair. You're up." Here I set my jaw and repress the angry words I want to spit at them both- why does he get to have all if the fun??? I am right here-

Wheezy heaves the heaviest sigh known to man kind, like an absolute drama queen, smoke slipping out of his mouth, nostrils, and his eyeballs. Honestly you'd think that if smoke started to leak out of your eyeballs you may cut back, but no... and this is the man that the Boss thinks can charm the women. Tch. Imbéciles estúpidos. "Boss, really?... "

"Yeah, really. I'm not talking for my own amusement, am I??? Heck no. Wash your face." It is going to take more then that to make el fumador a member of society, but okay-

"I was really hopin' to like... take a back seat, on this one... "

I cant help the annoyed huff, I make at this. The boss gives me a dangerous side eye and Wheezy looks unsurely at me, as if he is some kind of victim in all this, but I refuse to look at either of them; Just merely whistle and look off to our other two comrads picking at something squishy in the gutter.

Smartass rolls his eyes at me, then returns his attention to Wheezy, his eyes hard and mean. "Wheezy. There is a pathetic, heartbroken woman in there," He points at the bar we're parked next to, where Y/N is, "with information, gettin' drunk- Get your lazy flat ass in there."

Smartass' beautiful description of her almost gets me hard (she's so vulnerable right now- if I could just get close to her- speak to her- aghhhh!) but while I'm standing stiff trying to calm myself down- Wheezy actually groans (Where I can hear him!) and hunches his shoulders (Where I can clearly see him!), before slinking in.

Grrrrrrr, this ungrateful, undeserving, selfish- "And, now, we play the waitin' game. Greasy, go down the road and get us some snacks, will ya?" Smarty suddenly thrusts a few bills in my hands. Qué? Do I look like your server?? "I'm gonna take a nap in the van. And dont forget the red vines this time, will ya?"

With that, the boss slinks into the back of our dodge and slams the doors shut behind him. I make a face after him for a few moments, insulted by his usual brash manner, before... an idea, occurs to me.

As Stupid and Psycho continue to play with gutter garbage nearby, I compose a plan.

Heheh. I can be back before Smartass wakes up.

~

Ahhhh, there's the bastard.

As soon as I walk in, I spot them. Y/N's hunched on her elbows by the bar, her eyes wide with delicious, innocent, vulnerable intrigue as Wheezy (A.K.A the bastard) talks to her.

I taste something terrible watching them, because admittedly el fumador is rather charming when he tries to be (And sometimes when he isn't. I think it has something to do with how relaxed~ he seems to be, all the time. I could never be like that, not even if I, too, smoked 17 packs an hour- ) and he does have nice eyes,.. but goddamnit, that old man is going down. I can do this.

I would say I'm apologetic for what I must do- but I am not.

"Y/N!" Her body jumps when I appear on her other side, turning around to look at me with pretty rounded eyes; A definite haze of intoxication behind them. A smirk slithers across my face looking down at her. "Funny to see you here!- I had no idea. And- with el fumador!.. of all people... How nice. Mind if I join you?"

Wheezy gives me a raised-eyebrow look from Y/N's other side, but I ignore him! ^^ "Grease, what're you doin'?"

My attention is only for Y/N- pathetic, pregnable, easy Y/N. She glances at Wheezy, before settling her attention on me again. "Um- sure! What are- what are you doing here?"

"Ohh, nothing much~ Gracias for allowing me to crash your night, hermosa. Very sweet of you."

Nervously, she gives a faint smile; Shrugging. "Ohh, its n- nothing... I wasn't doing much... " Oh, the adorable, heartbroken thing she is. She doesn't know we are perfectly aware of her break up from that dumb asshole she's been with, today. Or that we kind of caused it. Afterall, he didnt leave town for no reason... Of course she doesn't- I should play this subtly.

"Mmm... and where is your boyfriend, Y/N? Surely he wouldn't leave you alone in a bar looking so beautiful~... Unsavoury types may approach." At this, I do finally look at Wheezy, and he gives me a very unamused look in return. Oh, he has no sense of humour-

"More unsavoury than you?" Y/N suddenly snaps, eyes flashing knowingly at mean- oh. She's more clever than I thought. Okay. I see.

"... can I buy you another drink, Hermosa?" She's not nearly drunk enough.

"Greasy." Wheezy warns, again. But Y/N takes a deep breath and nods, and then he's looking surprised at her. "Are you sure, about that?"

She shrugs back at him as I order her another of what she was drinking. "... yeah. I um- Brick broke up with me, today. I could use a few hundred... thousand, drinks."

Aww... pathetic little thing. Just perfect. Wheezy catches me smirking as I finger through the bills Smartass gave me for red vines, having heard that delicious admition, and gives a sigh; Rolling his eyes.

"Sorry to hear that... " He lies, because he knew very well what happened with Brick today, just like I did. Looking tired as ever, though especially by me right now (I'd know that tone in his broken voice anywhere. That tone is alllllll my fault. And I'm honoured), Wheezy gestures to the bartender fetching me Y/N's drink. "I could use a drink, too."

"Don't worry Y/N," I nudge her with my elbow, settling in close to her, and give a wink. "I will be the designated driver for us. Feel free to drink all the booze you like~ "

Wheezy taps the bar. "Make that two, will ya? 'Nd put it on his tab."

~

2 hours later, Y/N's completely drunk and Wheezy may have dragged her bar stool ever-so-subtly further from me and closer to him, but I am the one with all of her attention. I have her exactly~ where I want her.

I just need to get rid of el fumador, somehow, then-

"YOU," That voice is unmistakably familiar, and I immediately go stiff as a plank. "GODDAMN MORONS."

Oh, infierno. This is not good.

Y/N's eyebrow raises, turning in her seat and almost slipping off of it- if it weren't for Wheezy jumping forward and steadying her. I'm busy stringing a good excuse together in my head... but nothing is coming to me... "Is that Smartass?"

"Yep, looks like the jigs up," Wheezy tells her, turning to me meaningfully. He knows she won't remember anything he says, now. "Eh, Greasy?"

I dont say a word, avoiding his eye. I'm still desperately raking my brain for a good excuse-

"The- the jig?? What- "

They sell red vines in here?? I just stepped in to go to the bathroom?? I needed a glass of water?? No, no, no-

"Eh, don't worry about it doll. How about we get you a cab and send ya home? Where are yer shoes?"

By the time Smartass reaches us Wheezy has helped Y/N to get herself together (His arm around her waist to keep her from tripping and her shoes in his other hand), my chances with her tonight are successfully diminished, he's ready to take her to the door, and I've still got nothing. Smartass looks sharply at him, and he gives a solemn shake of his head. "I got nothin' after all that. Talk to lover boy."

As Wheezy takes Y/N away, Smartass slowly does turn to 'lover boy', me; A very violent look in his eyes, and I hold up a finger. As if to 'pause' him.

... Absolutely no excuse has come to mind. My head is completely blank. Smooth, in fact, like a leaf. And that look in the bosses eye is making my bladder feel weak. "... I plead the fifth- "

"YOU PLEA- You're gonna plead for the use of your legs back when I'm done with ya!! Get in the van. Get- Go- I'm not gonna tell ya twice!"