#and call me crazy but i think that killing KIDS is wrong and the ones who tortured them were fucking wild for that

[beanghostprincess]

the whole "doflamingo has always been evil" thing doesn't sit right with me. idk. maybe it's because i think the environment during childhood is what shapes someone's personality, especially if there's a traumatic experience. and call me crazy, but perhaps being raised in a world full of supremacists and classists with an extreme god complex can affect your views on the world and yourself at a very early age. and perhaps i'm being a bit insane here, but, like, idk. maybe being fucking tied up and tortured and seeing everything you love burnt down to ashes while a whole town tells you you're evil for your mere existence could make you develop a hatred towards them. and, wow! maybe i'm saying something wild, but if you're taking care of your little brother and an older man tells you you're the chosen one to create a fucking mafia and he boosts your god complex to an insane, unhealthy, and almost grooming-like extent, of fucking course you're gonna end up like doflamingo.

but idk, call me crazy.

[aro-kai]

Tags from @tadpal bc they were just too on point:

The show was so incredibly biased towards Rohan. Objectively, they fucked over the Dunlendings. Even the book seems to imply it??? But the show was so--even the differing visual portrayals were awful. And the super European take on the cultures shown was also.....Ugh

(it's a world where the author has openly admitted in the appendices that the cultural aspects he's chosen are largely "translated" for the worldview of a modern English audience from an unknown original text) (there are so so so so so many ways you can take this) (and this was one of the worst ones tbh)

Alright, I was holding off for journalistic integrity but now that I've seen the WotR film I can make posts about it without restraint.

Jesus christ the racial politics of this film are atrocious. Some character might as well just tell Wulf 'not to play the race card'. Wulf is a liberal snowflake who blames racism for all his troubles and can't pull himself up by his bootstraps and he is also brown-skinned and obsessively pursues our PORCLAIN white dainty-drawn female protagonist with both romantic and murderous intent. Oppression of dunlendings by the Rohirrim exists only in Wulf's head apparently, though it can be tasted in every spat 'dunlending' perjorative that comes from Helm or Haleth's mouth. But Hera has absolutely no racism within her of course! She refuses Wulf because she doesnt want to marry anyone and Wulf just assumes it's because his dunlending blood disgusts her, so entitled of him!

But also maybe the racism is '''justified'''? If it exists? Which it doesn't! But IF it did, don't worry because ONCE AGAIN all the dunlendings are just greedy, clutching, unwashed, skull wearing, violent barbarians with no unique culture to speak of and no reasons to be making war on Rohan except to sieze what isn't theirs (ignoring the fact that it totally was theirs until Rohan seized it from them and OH BOY are we ignorin' that) And the only dunlending we see not frothing at the mouth for violence or showing any introspective depth at all is General Targg who is the mouthpiece with which we get to hear 'the girl (Hera) is right' whereupon he is promptly killed by Wulf.

Oh but of course, what else could Helm have done? Freca was some greedy FAT man (boy does everyone love calling him fat, happy to lean into THAT aspect of canon) whose lands were too prosperous for his own good (hang on isn't keeping your lands prosperous the platonic ideal of lordship?) And he called a 'Witan' (no he didn't, he came to one of the regular councils of lords that Helm called himself) just to make a scene about how Helm was going to marry Hera to a lord of gondor which is bad because Gondor has some nebulous hold over Rohan so Hera should marry Wulf instead (literally none of that, Freca simply asked Helm to wed his daughter to Wulf, his son, a completely normal and legitimate political strategy to secure a better relationship with the King's family since Helm already mistrusted him for having dunlending blood. Freca is a lord of Rohan, he is rich, he traces his ancestry back to King Freawine, this could not be a more reasonable suggestion in canon.)

SO OBVIOUSLY Helm had to get angry and call Freca fat again (true he did do that) and THEN claim that Freca only wanted his throne (there was never any suggestion of this in the books, it was just the offer of marriage which insulted Helm) to which Freca answered "Old kings that refuse a proffered staff may fall on their knees," and Helm is like okay lets take this outside.

And now THIS change is actually so important in understanding the extreme nature of the Rohir/Helm favouritism that is the main focus of this film. In the film Helm pretty much immediately takes Freca outside, he reassures Frealaf that Freca just needs to be shown his place, this is the only way to settle the matter, if he doesn't embarass him here then Freca will try to take his crown and slay his family apparently, his hunch ig etc etc. Freca punches Helm three times in full view of the whole of Edoras including Freca's two men who came with him, then Helm punches him back and he is knocked out cold and dead by the time he hits the ground. Film!Helm does not realise he has done this and tells Freca to get up, Wulf realises his father is dead and threatens Helm with revenge, swords are draw against him which he tries to calm before Wulf attacks him. Helm incapacitates Wulf, his sons draw THEIR swords and Helm exiles Wulf for drawing his sword on his king. Messy right? Like not a good thing to do, generally brawling with your lords is a bad idea full stop, but if you fear for the lives of your children then idk maybe it's excusable? And then it's just an unfortunate series of events right? And Freca was rude and insulting to a king in his own halls, heat of the moment etc etc

I feel so comfortable in telling you that Helm murders Freca in cold blood in the books, fully intending that to be the outcome.

He does not take him outside initially, Book!Helm tells Freca that this marriage dispute isn't important and they will deal with it later. And then;

When the council was over, Helm stood up and laid his great hand on Freca’s shoulder, saying: "The king does not permit brawls in his house, but men are freer outside"; and he forced Freca to walk before him out from Edoras into the field. To Freca’s men that came up he said: "Be off ! We need no hearers. We are going to speak of a private matter alone. Go and talk to my men!" And they looked and saw that the king’s men and his friends far outnumbered them, and they drew back. "Now, Dunlending," said the king, "you have only Helm to deal with, alone and unarmed. But you have said much already, and it is my turn to speak. Freca, your folly has grown with your belly. You talk of a staff! If Helm dislikes a crooked staff that is thrust on him, he breaks it. So!" With that he smote Freca such a blow with his fist that he fell back stunned, and died soon after. Helm then proclaimed Freca’s son and near kin the king’s enemies; and they fled, for at once Helm sent many men riding to the west marches.

(Appendices, 'The House of Eorl', emphasis mine)

I think we can all agree that forcing someone out of your city, isolating them away from their fellows with threats of violence, telling them you will break them, killing them in one blow and then proclaiming their kin your enemies and forcing them to flee to escape a murderous pursuit, is pretty clearly premeditated murder. There is not much nuance here, Freca tresspassed over a line with Helm that Dunlendings are not allowed to cross and Helm killed him for it.

And listen like, the description of this whole story within the appendices is barely more than three pages. This is not an obscure missable aspect of the tale, nor is it outside of what rights they had to adapt. The choice was made, actively, ONCE AGAIN by the Warner Bros cinematic universe makers, to drastically alter book events in order to sand down any immorality within Rohan's narrative, especially where the Dunlendings are concerned. And in the end the only 'mistake' Helm is allowed to learn and grow from is some nebulous and trite 'not believing enough in his daughter' schpiel, which needs to be the subject of a whole 'nother post actually.

And what's agonising is they COULD have done it like they were so close, there are multiple moments where me and my friend watching were like struck!! With grief! Over how impactful this moment could have been if only the racism actually existed as an acknowledged theme in the story. If only it was something Hera had to come to terms with, if only IT was the true driver of these horrors to the point where it's Avatar, Hera's father, a man who loves her and whom she has loved all her life, turns into a cold icey ghost of brutality, far more vicious and barbaric than the people he so reviles, and reveals to her the terrible truth of his actions and motivations. It's agony I tell you.

Anyway I did not like the film.

[murderofravens]

DUSK TILL DAWN

pairing: hwang inho/young-il/frontman x fem reader.

warnings: age gap (reader is 20, inho is in his late 40s) slowburn. oral fixation. thigh riding. plot with porn. yearning. sexual tension. canon compliant. slight infantilization. no y/n used.

summary: he promised that you will make it out alive. he will make sure of it, no matter what it takes.

word count: 6.5k

BABY I'M RIGHT HERE & FLY ME TO THE MOON POSTED!

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

please ignore any mistakes.

as you wipe the blood from your face, the reality of your situation sets in. you never thought you'd get used to the smell of blood— much less the sight of it. or the texture. and now you're covered in it. the white of your uniform splattered with crimson, the metallic smell of it almost overwhelming. in a situation like the one you're in, you can only laugh. the mere sight of blood used to make you feel faint; make you want to throw up because you're squeamish. now you're covered in it from head to toe.

it's not yours. it's of the people they shot dead during the second game.

you barely remember how you made it out alive. the second one was all thanks to your team— thanos and nam-gyu were the closest to your age, and teaming up with them worked in your favour. your age and gender was a liability to the others, but they were kind enough to take you in. or perhaps they were thinking with their dicks. would it really matter either way?

but with the way they act, you're not sure if you want to continue being in a team with them. especially since thanos keeps trying to woo you with his poor rapping skills. they're way too loud and reckless for you, and you're scared they might get you killed. they're not willing to give up the game anytime soon, either.

then there's the first game— you're alive, because of 456. that crazy man who supposedly had played the games before. if it wasn't for him pulling you behind his back, you would've left the premises in a cardboard box. especially because you fucking sneezed as soon as the doll turned back.

since then, you've decided you don't want to play this game anymore. 456 has been desperately trying to change the other's mind— but they're greedy and insistent. you pressed the cross for his sake, and for the others, and for yourself. hell, you can live in debt, but what use is that money if you die trying? you're not that much of a hard worker. you value your life above anything else.

you walk over to their team— 456, and his two loud team members. another man is sitting there— player 001. the one who ruined your chance of going home on the first vote. he seems ordinary, but you know of him because you saw him beat the shit out of thanos. that was another reason you decided to abandon that team— you could not be seen with a bully, or a loser. as you approach him, you give him a slight nod of acknowledgement, which he returns. you turn your attention to 456, and thank him profusely for what he did for you. he's kind, you'll give him that. you like kind people.

"if you don't mind me asking—" a voice interrupts, and you look over your shoulder. it's player 001. he looks at you curiously. "how old are you?"

"old enough." you retort cheekily. he doesn't look amused as he cocks his head to the side.

"i'm curious as to why a little kid like you would compromise herself for money."

that shuts you up. you're offended, to say the least. who is he to call you a little kid? the entire team also looks on, seemingly baffled. the question makes sense. you're sure you're the youngest out of all players. and people can tell because you look it too. you don't really know how to respond, so you just look on with a frown, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"forgive me—" he lets out an awkward chuckle, "i didn't mean it the wrong way. i'm just worried."

you give him an uneasy smile, rubbing the back of your neck. the others go back to their conversations, and you shrug. he shoots a glance towards gi-hun before sitting back down and shifting slightly, as if making room for you. you take a seat beside him. there's silence before he glances at the symbol on your jacket— the cross.

"i'm sorry." he says with a small smile, looking straight ahead, "you wanted to go home but you had to continue because of me. i put a kid in danger."

"i'm not a kid," you huff softly, straightening up, "i'm twenty. but yeah, you should be sorry."

you give him a small smile to ensure he knows that the last line is lighthearted. he seems to understand and returns it.

"dont worry about it," you sigh, fiddling with the zip of your jacket, "im sure you had your reasons. just like i have mine for coming here."

"and your parents?" he asks. he's so polite, it warms your heart. polite and soft spoken. and visibly tough. probably some officer, you think, judging by his skills you previously saw.

"that's what i need the money for." you sigh, leaning back against the bunker. "i need enough money to establish myself. continue my studies. bring my mom and my sister to come live with me. settle off my father's debts because he's a coward who decided to pass down his sins onto his daughter."

he raises his eyebrows, and you take a sharp breath. there's a moment of silence between you two— you think for a moment, and feel your eyes get slightly glassy. you're not going to cry in front of a stranger. you put on a brave face. "if i die here, my mother—"

he stares at you silently, before putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, interrupting your cursed sentence. "you'll make it out alive."

the doors open, and the staff comes in again. they reveal the number of players left, showcase the money that each person would get, and then the voting starts again.

this time, player 001 doesn't disappoint you. he goes first, and clicks on the cross. the hope it gives you eventually shatters as more and more players begin to vote in favour of continuing the game. you see 456 get increasingly agitated as he begins to make his way towards the front of the crowd. before he can speak, he's interrupted.

001's voice rings out loud and authoritative, and worried. he reprimands the voters in favour, calls them out on their selfishness.

"we'll all die if we keep playing!" he chastises the crowd urgently. "you have to survive first, or there won't be a next step—"

"there's no next step for us!" he's interrupted by player 100. a stout old man who had been at odds against 456 since the start— you remember him having 10 billion won in debt. it makes you snicker. he eggs on the crowd. "with that money, we won't be able to pay our debts. we need to play one more game, then the money will increase to 240 million. with that we can pay atleast a little of our debts! isn't that right!?"

"you're going to die trying!" you snap, making your way to the front of the crowd. you glare at player 100, at all his little supporters cheering at the back. "your greed is going to get you killed. how can you be so confident to say that you'll survive the next game? what if you die?"

"you shut up, young lady!" he hisses, mouth scrunching bitterly. "is that how you speak to your elders? your brain is too small to comprehend real life problems. we can't continue with our lives with that little money!"

"continue your lives?" a laugh bubbles out of your throat. "look at that greying head of yours, you barely have a life ahead of you! why don't you let us live ours?!"

that seems to have ticked him off, because he quite literally turns red as he takes a threatening step towards you.

"what did you just say?"

"i said—" you step forward, shooting him a challenging glare, "you're too old to be playing children's games. vote wisely and let us go home."

he lets out a snarl before trying to lunge at you, but you're pulled back as player 001 steps between the two of you. like a wall. he looks at the old man, eyes cold, his voice low. "that's enough."

since the incident with thanos, nobody has really tried anything with 001. it's obvious enough they're intimidated by him, and they don't want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. 100 doesn't either, with the way he collects himself and steps back, embarrassed. you look over 001's shoulder, make eye contact with the old man and shoot him a taunting smile. you know it's childish, but you've resented him from the start.

before the old man can say anything, player 001 drags you to the side where you can't argue with people anymore. and the voting continues.

"you can't talk to people like this," he says lowly, gaze focused on the crowd. staring at something that you can't figure out. "you never know what they might do."

you huff bitterly. you know what he means.

"i don't care. i fucking hate bullies."

"potty mouth." he chastises, but theres a smirk on his face. he's teasing. you chuckle.

"remember you need to get out of here alive." he repeats, looking at you with an intensity that is almost terrifying. "you can't do that if you keep this up."

"jeez, okay dad." you joke, rolling your eyes. your words make him smile lightly.

"thanks for having my back there." you tell him sincerely. he looks at you for a bit before nodding in acknowledgement.

the voting ends, and they announce that the games will continue tomorrow. it makes your heart drop.

that night, you feel uneasy when you try to sleep. your clothes stick to your skin, and the side of your face keeps itching. with an irritated grumble, you get off the bunker and walk over to your new friend's side. you squint your eyes before looking for 001— and when you find him, you gently shake him.

"are you sleeping?" you whisper.

he opens his eyes, wincing slightly before sitting up. his voice is hushed as he responds, "not anymore. what is it?"

you bite your lower lip nervously before reluctantly asking, "will you go to the restroom with me? i'm kinda scared to go alone."

he blinks at you, confused. you continue out of sheer desperation.

"those guards just stare weirdly with their weird little masks and it makes me nervous." you hope your voice doesn't shake as you speak. "last time one of them kept knocking on the door while i was in the washroom and it just— scared the shit out of me. and my face is itching and i really need to go. please?"

he listens patiently. for a moment you think he'd decline but he just sighs and nods, and you cheer just a little as he steps out and follows you to the door. you bang on it, loudly telling the guards that you need to go. one of them opens the sliding window, and then immediately opens the door. it makes you feel strange, because usually it takes a lot more effort to convince them. either way, you're grateful.

you know your better option would've been to take one of the girls with you, but the sad fact is you haven't had the chance to get friendly with any of the female players yet. and for some reason, player 001 makes you feel a sense of safety and security that is almost strange— you feel at ease around him.

"i'll be in the men's room," he tells you, and you nod. he shoots a glance to the guard standing outside the women's restroom before walking away. you quickly go inside, and the first thing you do is splash water on your face.

you quickly clean the blood off your skin, holding back the urge to cry. you scrub at your cheeks till you're sure you can scratch the itch away for good. your nails dig a little too deep, and a little blood oozes out of the scratches on the side of your face. you clean that too, and then try to scrub the splatters of blood off your t-shirt. it's white, and you have no soap— so the stains remain. a faint reminder. you take your time, and anticipate the knocking— but it never comes.

you look in the mirror, at your tired face and sunken eyes, before giving yourself a nod and stepping out. 001 is waiting for you outside, looking to the side. he gives you an odd look as you step out, before walking alongside you.

"are you alright?" he asks gently, concerned. kind as ever.

you look at him again, give him a nod. "thank you."

when you two reach the room, he returns the smile with one of his own.

as you make your way to the bunker, he grabs your shoulder, "why don't you start sleeping on our side?" he says quietly, "join the team. there's a bed near mine. you won't feel so scared that way."

you blink, trying to see his face in the darkness. the offer is enticing— and most of all, it warms your heart.

"really?" you ask hopefully.

"really." he says kindly.

you follow him to the bunker, and he covers the railing with his hand to avoid you getting hurt as you bend down to get into the bed. he looks at the slightly wet patches on your shirt— blinks before getting a bedsheet and putting it over you. "get some sleep. we got a game to play tomorrow."

you smile softly at him. as he turns to get into his own bed, you grab his hand. it's warm against yours— big and rough. you don't allow your mind to drift that way. it's not right. he looks at you, gaze questioning.

"thanks again," you say softly, "it means a lot to me."

he leans down a little to ruffle your hair before going back to his bed and laying down. you close your eyes and drift to sleep— unaware that he stays up, thinking.

breakfast is boring— bread and milk. you sit on the bed, scowling. player 456 is surprised as he sees you there, before you two share understanding smiles. you bow a little and he bows back before going along with his friend. 001 comes to sit by you then, munching on his own breakfast.

"i miss home," you mumble, "how am i supposed to survive on just this? it's not even chocolate milk."

001 laughs, "don't worry, you can have whatever you want once you get out of here."

"will i?"

he looks at you, raising his eyebrows. you take his silence as a cue to continue, "im scared i'll die in here."

he looks down, before shifting to be closer to you. "you made it this far, didn't you?"

you look at him, voice getting shaky. "and what if i dont make it till the end? what if i die here and my family thinks i abandoned them? i don't want to die. i haven't even lived my life yet."

his expression is hard to read. "you'll make it out of here alive," he tells you with conviction, "ill make sure of it."

your lips wobble as you stare at him, and he smiles before poking you in the nose. "finish your food. you need the energy for the next game. we'll make it out alive, then we'll try to get the voters on our side and go home. sound good?"

you snort, rolling your eyes before nodding. "sounds good."

he gives you his bread then, tells you to eat more. when you protest, he sends a warning glare your way— the one with a quirked eyebrow and a knowing gaze. you roll your eyes, and happily eat it.

you were hungry. perhaps he can tell things like that. you're just grateful.

today, you decided to be a little rebellious. when you first joined the games, you used to spend a long time in the bathrooms— analyzing, looking for a way out. during that time, you'd discovered that one of the screws in the ceiling vent was loose. you hadn't really bothered checking it before, but since it's daytime and you have some time before the next game, you decide to explore.

your hairclip works— the screws were not tightly fixed, so it unscrewed easily. you'd contemplated checking it out last night, but you didn't want to take any risks, especially since player 001 was with you. so now whatever you do, the responsibility will be yours.

when the bathroom gets empty and all the women leave, you pull it down and try climbing up. it's moments like these that you can pride yourself on your agility— work that usually required two people, you could do alone. with one leg on the flush and the other on the top of the cubicle, you climbed up, scratching the side of your arm slightly before finally getting in the vents. you groaned to yourself, and then started crawling inside. there were two ways to go— you chose the left one. you looked down, trying to understand the layout of the place where you were practically held hostage. you keep crawling, making sure not to make too much noise before finally seeing a place through the gaps that you hadn't seen before— you carefully remove the screws and pull it apart.

the place looks empty. the walls are all sorts of pink and green. you put your head down and look both ways, seeing a door at the end of the hallway. carefully, you climb down and lower yourself to the ground with a thump. your shoulder hurts a little. you stand up, and aim for the door. as soon as you begin walking, you hear footsteps. it's as if someone splashed cold water on you— you realize the grave mistake you just made. guards walk here with guns, and you made the impulsive decision to explore a dangerous place like this by yourself?

you look around, running towards the other end of the hallway. the footsteps get louder, and as you look over your shoulder, something grabs you. out of reflex, you go to scream, but a hand clamps down on your mouth, and your back collides with a hard chest.

"shh, it's me." the voice hisses. your wide eyes look up, scared, before realizing who it is.

player 001.

your chest heaves as you break out into a sweat, a tear rolling down your cheek. he keeps you in a tight hold, looking to the side, your breath dampening his hand. the footsteps suddenly become faint, as if walking away. your breaths sync together, and after a moment, he relaxes.

he takes his hand off your mouth before harshly twisting you to face him. his voice is hushed but angry, "what were you thinking?!"

"what are you doing here?" you whisper shakily at the same time.

"everyone was back in the room except you. i came to find you!" he chides, eyes hard. he shakes you slightly, "do you really plan to get killed like this? is this how you want to die? can you go one moment without being a reckless brat—"

his words make you want to cower in on yourself.

"i wanted to find a way out." you try to sound assertive, but your voice betrays you. your words come out panicked, "I wanted to help and— fuck— i got you in trouble too— you shouldn't have come looking for me! fuck— how are we gonna make it out of here?"

he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut before looking at you tiredly. "the game is about to start. we'll mix in with the crowd when they leave, i doubt they'll notice."

"are you sure it'll work?" you ask. you hear a faint announcement. the game is about to start.

he looks up at the speakers, alert. he grabs you tightly and drags you away with an air of confidence. "let's go."

you don't encounter any guards on the way back. it's strange, but you figure it's because they're all preparing for the next game. player 001's plan worked, because you two mixed in with the crowd, and the guards didn't notice. one of them turned back to look at you, and you panted, staring back at him. your heart raced, but you felt the presence of 001 next to you, and you felt at ease again. the guard looked away.

"i told you to stop being reckless." he says quietly, looking at 456 and 390, before looking back at you. your legs hurt from climbing so many stairs. "what would you have done if they found you?"

you swallow the lump in your throat, staring up at him intensely, eyes glassy. he saved your life. "i guess you stopped that from happening."

he clenches his jaw, his gaze flickering up and down your face before looking away. "i won't always be there to save you."

you look away, heart dropping. "thank you, 001."

"call me young-il."

you look up at him, blinking back tears, quirking an eyebrow as you two walk. "only if you allow me to add 'sir' at the end of it."

he chuckles, eyes crinkling. he has such a nice laugh. "why's that? respect?"

you nod, giving a little bow. "respect is very important in my culture as well. so thank you for saving my life, young-il sir."

he grins a little and pats your head. you thank him again, and decide you like him enough. so you tell him your name.

he tests it on his tongue, and you quite like the way he says it.

the next game had to be the most terrifying so far.

it was called mingle, and you had to run to the rooms in groups according to the number announced. things like these were where you got scared— where you had to group with people. in dangerous situations, you know people usually only look out for two types of people— themselves, and the ones dearest to them.

you were not dear to anyone here. you really should've interacted with more people.

the platform rotates, before the number is announced. six. your eyes widen and you frantically look around, but young-il is faster. he grabs you and drags you to the room with the rest of the team. you pant as the 30 seconds pass, and then look out the window in the door to see how many people were left— quite a few. your eyes widen as the red guards move forward with their guns raised.

young-il leaps forward and covers your eyes with his hand before pulling you into himself as the gunshots ring out— you flinch and shudder at every single one, breathing sharp and your entire frame trembling violently. when there is silence and the doors open, you look up. young-il gently lets go of you, looking around. he's panting too, and you look at him with the most crushed look on your face before he meets your gaze. he can tell what you want to know— why would you do that?

"you shouldn't have to see all this." he says quietly, adjusting his jacket and putting a little distance between you two. 456 pats your shoulder and makes sure people are okay before moving out. you just look at young-il for a while, but he simply looks around, seemingly lost in thought. as if fighting a war within himself. you wish you knew how to reassure him like he did with you, but you realize you barely know anything about him.

the entire floor is painted with blood. the sight makes you want to vomit. you walk carefully, but your foot slips in someone's blood and you begin to fall over. 456 catches you. "are you alright?"

instinctively, your gaze tries to find young-il but he's standing away. his head is lowered.

"yes, thank you." you give 456 a smile, before assuming your place on the platform again.

you play a few more rounds. you're lucky enough to have someone to team with each time— young-il and 456 don't let go of you even once. but then the voice runs out again, and they announce the number 3. this time, 456 is dragged along with the old woman and her son. you look around frantically, and meet young-il's panicked gaze with your own. you begin to run towards him, but two people grab you and drag you towards one of the rooms.

thanos and nam-gyu. you shriek at them, clawing at their arms and trying to run back out. what if young-il doesn't make it? what if something bad happens?

this time, you have no one to cover your eyes or ears. thanos and nam-gyu talk shit within themselves, and you look outside the little window, flinching with every gunshot ringing out, trying to pinpoint if it's young-il's body falling to the ground. you can't help the light sob erupting from your throat, and thanos chooses the wrong moment to come bother you.

"watcha looking for, señorita?" he laughs, poking your side, "is it your old man? did he finally—"

you turn to him and punch him in the face. he falls back and groans dramatically, rubbing the blood running down his nose. nam-gyu rushes to his rescue, giggling. they're both high as a kite. the doors open, and you rush out before they can bother you further.

you look around. 456 is with the rest of the team, but you can't find young-il. frantically, you look towards the dead bodies, heart pounding against your chest and head throbbing. suddenly, there's cheers from your team, and you look up to see young-il walking over with a bright grin on his face.

you don't know what compelled you to do it. you were acting on your emotions— overwhelmed by the relief you felt on the sight of his face. before you can even stop, you're dashing towards him and crashing into his body, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

he's shocked, that much is obvious by the way he tenses slightly. but then he returns the hug, wrapping his arms around you and placing one hand on your head, gently patting. "i told you we'd make it."

you choke on a soft sob, nodding, burying your head further into his chest, as if ready to climb inside him, "i thought you—"

he shushes you softly, voice gentle as he runs a hand through your hair. you can feel his heart racing against his chest too. you wonder if it's for the same reasons as you. "i'm okay."

you wish the game ended there. but there was one more round to go. as you rotated on the platform— the moment you were dreading finally happened as young-il predicted it. the number announced was two.

you were ready to die there. things seemed to happen in slow motion— 456 took his best friend 390, 149 was dragged by her son. you didn't get the chance to see who took who next, because young-il had grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards one of the rooms. there were only fifty rooms— the first one you two got to was taken. he dragged you to another with a mere ten seconds left.

you sighed in relief as you got in, before seeing another man was already there. he was shaking in fear, and you jumped at the harshness of young-il's voice when he ordered him to get out. when the other player refused, young-il lunged at him and put him in a headlock.

your eyes widened and you stepped forward, panic stricken but he looked right at you and called your name, "close your eyes!"

you flinched. you looked at the man, then at young-il, before squeezing your eyes shut. you slid to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest as soon as you heard a 'crack' before opening your eyes.

the player was dead. young-il cracked his neck.

the timer finished at that exact moment, and young-il crawled over to you before pulling you into his chest. the gunshots rang out, and you flinched, sobbing.

young-il killed someone.

"i had to do it," he whispered against your hair, holding your head against his chest, "we both have to make it out alive. i had to do it. you know that right?"

you wanted to believe him, you really did. but in that moment, you felt scared of him for the first time.

the doors opened, and the game finished.

while you wanted to revel in your victory, the incident during mingle had rattled you to your core. the others checked up on you, especially 388 and 456. young-il maintained some distance. you could feel like he thought it's what you wanted. but you could really use his comfort. you just don't know how to talk to him again without being nervous. you force yourself to relive your previous interactions with him— he's still the same young-il who has saved you and comforted you countless times.

he did what he had to do to ensure your survival. that wasn't something you could hold against him. not when both of your lives were on the line.

the voting this time was just as challenging. you made your way to the front of the crowd, praying that they'd choose wisely this time. you need to go home.

one of the players in the old man's team showed you the finger before clicking the 'o' button. the action made your eye twitch, and you grit your teeth before straightening up to attack that guy and scratch his face off, but a hand to your chest held you back.

if looks could kill, young-il's glare could've sent that guy home in a body bag. as the votes in favour of continuing the game increased, you pushed his hand off you and addressed the crowd, "have you all lost your fucking minds?!"

their chitter chatter stopped and they looked at you. you clench your jaw, "after losing so many people out there you still want to play? what the fuck is wrong with you people? are human lives that invaluable to you?"

player 100 steps forward, insufferable as always. "don't you see how much money we're getting for each person? it could settle our debt! we can't give up after how far we've come."

"you're gonna die!" you snap, pointing at him, "you could take this money and go home and be happy instead of risking your life for something that is not assured to you! why won't you listen?! i want to go home!"

the others in favour of terminating the game start chanting with you, a string of 'i want to go home' echoing across the room.

player 100 glares, urging his own team to chant against you. he looks towards young-il, yells something along the lines of, "look after your fucking kid!" before the barell of a gun presses against the back of your head. the whole room freezes, and so do you.

"disruptions against a democratic vote will not be excused." the robotic voice calls out. for a second you think this is it. you look at young-il. if you die here, you'd prefer the man who saved your life to be the last person you see. he glares at the guard, his jaw clenching. the guard lowers the gun and steps back and you let out a breath of relief.

you immediately saunter over to him, gritting your teeth. the vote is a tie— and they announce the next voting to be held tomorrow.

456 says there's about to be a fight. the rest of the team got busy setting up a barricade— and you didn't get the chance to talk to your player. you knew his concern though, when he made sure to especially hide your side of the bed with two mattresses.

you play with the hem of your shirt as you sit in your bed by your lonesome. your food sits by you, untouched. you dont feel like eating. the weight on the bed shifts, and young-il appears into view.

"you're not eating."

you swallow the lump in your throat. "i don't feel like it."

he contemplates, eyes lowered before he looks at you again. "im sorry you had to witness that. I don't want you to be scared of me."

you want to cry. "im not." you whisper, "you.. you had to do what you had to do. to save us."

he blinks, nodding.

"back there, i thought that was it. it's over." you chuckle bitterly. "but you saved me again. you acted on impulse. i could never resent you for it."

your eyes are bloodshot as you look at him again. fat tears roll down your cheeks, and he frowns. he sighs before leaning closer, brushing the tears away. "why are you crying?"

"i wouldn't have survived this far if it wasn't for you." you whisper, voice cracking. "promise me you wouldn't abandon me. promise me you won't die."

his gaze softens. he's silent for a bit, his hand coming to rest on your knee, "i promise."

you sniffle, wiping your tears away. a small smile appears on your face, "i punched thanos."

"thanos?" he frowns, confused before raising his eyebrows in recognition, "ah, the loud kid with the purple hair?"

you nod proudly. "he said something like 'did 001 finally die?' so i punched him."

he laughs heartily— face scrunching cutely, eyes crinkling. he shakes his head fondly before ruffling your hair again. "attagirl."

it makes you blush slightly and you smile, looking down at your lap. he grabs your dinner— the roll sitting next to you and unwraps it, taking out a piece before holding it out, "eat."

you snort before leaning forward and taking a bite. he looks at you for a while with that faraway look in his eyes, before wordlessly continuing to feed you the rest. the words go unsaid. 'what are we doing? why are we so comfortable with each other?'

some sauce sticks to the corner of your mouth. he raises his hand to hold your chin, his thumb gently wiping it off. your breath hitches.

neither of you protest when his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, gaze focused on it like he's hypnotized. he's thinking, mindlessly feeling the plush texture of it.

you've always been impulsive. especially in situations where you shouldn't be. it happens so naturally— how your lips part just slightly. and maybe he's impulsive too, because his thumb slips inside, and his breath hitches as soon as your lips wrap around his thumb.

his gaze raises to meet yours— and you blink almost dazedly. his thumb presses down on your tongue, and he calls out your name in the softest voice.

"i'm too old for you." he whispers, shaking his head in disapproval.

your eyes flutter, and you lean forward, grabbing hold of his wrist. he pulls his thumb out, and you almost whine in protest. to your utter delight, he replaces it with two of his fingers, and your eyes almost roll back as you crawl forward till you're situated on his lap, mouth stuffed with his index and middle finger. you suck on them enthusiastically. they're long and thick and perfect and you don't want them out of your mouth ever again. it elicits a soft moan out of him— and if you could put that sound on repeat for the rest of your life, you'd be happy.

he pulls his fingers out and grabs the back of your head, pulling you close till your foreheads press together. you try to lean forward, to capture his lips with your own. he chuckles slightly, eyes closed, playfully rubbing his nose against yours. you whine.

"so impatient." he whispers, and then his lips are colliding with yours. it would be embarrassing if someone were to catch you two like this— more so for him than for you. thankfully, the others are busy strategizing for the night, and are not looking for either of you.

you moan softly and he bites down on your bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. it's desperate and reckless and so full of spit— it makes you whimper into his mouth and he pulls you further into himself, as if telling you to shut up. his experience is obvious in the way he kisses, and you follow his lead. unknowingly, your hips start gently grinding against his thigh, and he lets out a soft hiss. he pulls away slightly, strings of saliva connecting your mouths. he licks it away.

"come on, sweetheart," he whispers, one hand coming down to help your hips grind against his thigh, "make yourself feel good— that's it, that's my good girl."

you moan softly, and his free hand clamps your mouth shut. he speeds his movement, clenching and unclenching the muscle of his thigh, guiding your hips to move faster against his lap. it's been so long since you've masturbated— and this is unarguably the hottest situation you've ever been in, with the hottest man you've ever seen. so you're already close. you cry out into his hand, your voice muffled. he understands what you mean and lets you move on your own speed then, pulling your head into the crook of his neck as he whispers soft words of praise into your ear.

the moment he calls you his good girl again, you cum. he muffles the sound with his hand, squeezing his eyes shut before he looks at you intensely. you collapse against him, slightly sweaty, your hands holding onto his shoulders as you cling to him. he runs his hand through your hair, breathing sharply. it's a small moment of bliss in the hell you've found yourself in.

soon, the lights go out, and dread settles in your stomach once you feel his body tensing. player 388 pulls one of the mattresses back slightly, hisses a quick "get under the bed!"

and the next game begins.

A/N: this was incredibly fun to write. i love writing him a little soft and fatherly, so deal with it. i might write a part 2 for this, if anyone wants that. this idea has been in my head for a while. i love him so, so much. this fic is my baby and i truly hope you guys like reading it as much as i liked writing it.

tags! @carolinevoight @lovers-roq @wildtigerlili @menabuser16 @deadlyobsessivfennec @watasinekoru @hanakokunzz @cowuies

[kleefkruid]

Guys, I had one of the weirdest 15 minutes of my life yesterday, as if some higher power put me in a jar and shook me around for a very short time and then let me out again.

But before I can tell the story I need to quickly make sure everyone has the context: Kotelet, the stray I took in had 2 bigger kittens and was super pregnant. These are the cutlets 1.0 and 2.0, you’ve mostly seen the second gen as they were born with me. But the two initial kittens went to Danny. They were very wild and we tried to socialize them, but in the process unfortunately one of them got out and was lost forever. This was way back in the beginning of August. The other kitten became Dietzel and recently Danny adopted one of the 2.0 gen to keep him company since we sadly never found the other kitten again… Okay keeping that in mind I can tell my story.

Yesterday around 2 I left my house to go to Danny. While waiting for my tram I was texting someone who is coming to adopt the last kitten. This combined with the nose cold I’ve been having made me a bit inattentive, and I got on the wrong tram. Not too big of a problem, bc this tram also travels close by Danny, I just had to walk one kilometer. A 15 minute walk. What could happen in that time right, I’ve done this route so often.

I get of the tram and I cross a bigger intersection. Open sky above me, as is typical for an intersection. Light goes green, I’m on the crosswalk. Suddenly, and with a loud slap, a pigeon drops dead on the ground in front of me.

I look at the pigeon. I look at the clear sky. I look back at the pigeon. I look back up. I notice the cables of the tram that go over the crosswalk, and realize it must have flown into the cables, and was killed by electrocution. At least it died instantly. Not a bad way to go for a pigeon. One moment it was going “weeeh I’m a bird”, next thing the lights went out.

The crosswalk light had turned red. Normally this would be immediately be followed by irritated honking, but as I make eye contact with the driver perpendicular to me, he also points at the cables and we exchange some “crazy right??” looks while I hurry to the side of the road.

“What’s it called again when people tell fortune by looking at birds?” I think, (it’s Ornithomancy) “the ancients Greeks did it, I remember it from the Odyssey… sure hope it’s not a bad omen!” I imagine a Greek augur predicting a war or whatever when a bird drops straight from the sky and someone going “is that bad?” I chuckle to myself, just a tiny bit nervous, and I continue my walk. Not long to go now.

“Pigeon dropped dead in front of me” I triple text Danny “Crazy. Electrocuted by the tram infrastructure. Super dead in an instance.”

A neighborhood cat cheerfully walks by me. I automatically lean down to pet it, can’t cross a friendly cat without saying hi! It’s a teenage tuxedo.

WAIT.

The cat looks at me. It has a little white moustache. It starts sniffing my boots like crazy.

Could it be…

Squatting on the sidewalk, I go in my pictures folder and frantically search for pictures of the cutlets 1.0 The cat leans against me. I find a picture where the kitten has a distinctive black mark on the back of its otherwise white socks. I stare down.

On the back of its legs it has a distinctive black mark.

“You got to be kidding me” I say. “Sniff sniff” says the cat. He headbutts me again.

I am 350 meters from Danny’s door. Obviously I don’t have anything with me. A car drives close by. I gotta do something, so I pick him up. And he lets me. And I just start walking.

After a 100 meters, he wants to go down again, so holding him in a sitting position, I grasp his hind legs with one hand, like they hold wild birds when ringing them, and my other arm goes across him to squeeze him against my chest and I hold his front paws. He meows a little and bites me so very lightly. He just kinda presses his teeth against my skin to communicate he’s not impressed by my action, but that’s all. He’s still pretty tiny after all.

I ring the doorbell, and Danny buzzes me in. “Bring a carrier!” I yell trough the speaker. “What?? Why??” “Just come down!”

He opens te door and looks confused. “Is that Kotelet??” is his first question, as they look alike. “No, try again” I say. Now Danny’s eyes go wide. “No. It’s not possible…”

It’s been more than 3 months. Danny just starts crying out of shock. I start laughing. Both losing it in different ways about the absurdity of the situation.

We’re in Danny’s living room. The little guy is eating all the wet food he can and promptly passes out. We just stare at him. The other cats are peeking in from the bedroom. I look at its white paws, all grey from the street. He purrs. We sit in silence, kind of forgetting to blink.

“Did you see my text about the pigeon that dropped dead in front of me.”

[surftrips]

SWEET NOTHING

pairing: luke castellan x reader

summary: y/n comforts luke after he sees percy claimed by poseidon.

word count: 600+

a/n: y'all i know. how many more morally grey characters can i write fics for? i couldn't help it, he's so bf in the first two episodes so this takes place in a world where he’s done nothing wrong <3

You watched as your boyfriend’s face changed after seeing the newest camp member, Percy Jackson, claimed by his father, Poseidon. 

Luke wasn’t one of the unclaimed kids, but he might as well have been. His relationship with his father Hermes was a strained one, but he pretended like it didn’t bother him. 

But now, it was hard not to notice the sadness and frustration that had clouded Luke’s face as he watched the trident appear above Percy’s head. Before you could go over to comfort him, he had already run away from the scene. 

You decided to give him some space, figuring that he had gone back to his cabin. As the other camp members slowly dispersed, you looked around for Annabeth. 

Upon laying your eyes on the dark-haired girl in the crowd of people, you beckoned her over. 

“Hey! Did you see that?” she asked you, excitedly.

“Yeah, that was crazy!” you admitted. “How’d you know he was Poseidon’s?”

“I’ve been watching him.”

“Of course,” you smiled. Luke had told you about Annabeth's desire to find “The Chosen One.” 

“Wait- where’s Luke?” she asked, as if on cue.

“I was gonna talk to you about that- I think he ran back to his cabin.”

“What- why?”

“I think he had some feelings about Percy being claimed, if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh,” Annabeth replied, putting the pieces together. 

“Yeah, I’m giving him some space right now, but do you have any advice on how to approach this? I don’t want to upset him any more.”

“Look, Y/N, you’re his girlfriend. Just do your best to comfort him and I’m sure he’ll start to feel better.”

“I know, but you’re his sister! You know him best, what if I say the wrong thing?” 

“You can’t say the wrong thing. He loves you, Y/N. He just needs to see that someone is there for him.” 

“Okay, thank you, Annabeth,” you gave her a hug before heading in the direction of the Hermes cabin. 

You were relieved to find that the other campers had not gotten back yet. You gently pushed open the door and found yourself facing your boyfriend’s back sitting on his bed. 

“Luke?” you called out.

He turned to face you, hastily swiping at the tears that had fallen onto his cheeks. 

“Oh, sweet boy, come here,” you ran over to take him in your arms. He let his tears fall again, and your heart broke seeing him like this. You knew that he acted brave all the time, but deep down, he was hurting.

“Hey, it’s okay. Just let it out,” you attempted to calm him down. 

“Why doesn’t he care about me?” he cried.

“Baby, it’s okay. He doesn’t matter, alright? It has nothing to do with you.” 

“Yes, it does. Percy killed a minotaur and broke Clarisse’s spear and his dad just came swooping in.” 

“Look at me,” you pulled away to lift his face up. “You are so, so special. Anyone that knows you can say that. Hell, you’re the best swordsman in this camp. But you know what else? You’re kind, and caring, and you have all this compassion in your heart, despite it all. If he can’t see your worth in that, then that’s a reflection of him, not you.” 

Luke didn’t say anything, instead he worked on catching his breath as you continued to rub his back and lay kisses on his forehead. 

“Thank you,” he said after a moment, still sniffling. 

“For what, baby?” 

“For seeing me. And staying.”

“To know you is to love you, Luke Castellan,” you gave him another kiss, this time on his lips.

[acid-ixx]

gets fucking stabbed by damian and my last breath still be like "it's not his fault ! he is ten and was raised to be murderous since he was born ! kid entered a household where everyone ignores my existence, i don't blame him for assuming that to be the norm and acting evil to me so that he assimilates to his new environment ! bro literally went through the worst all his life so of course the way he expresses himself is harmful to others !"

and then i get stabbed again lol

— masterlist !

OH MY GOD PLEASE 😭 the gaslighting yourself is real, i'm telling you.

unfortunately, the reader's toxic mindset of justifying everything your family does is a common scenario for every time one of them fucks up; only in the past though. the present chapters will have you slowly realize just nothing really is ever your fault. that you've never once been in the blame for the actions of your youngest brother.

but right now, i want to focus on why you just seem to let damian go about his own crazy path of targeting you. and it's either it's because you have nothing, nobody else to fight back with you, or it's purely because you allow him to.

to destroy you, to make you suffer, to make you learn that you have no place, or standing in the family. and if you do have a place, it is at the rock bottom.

this is what damian is taught: the weak should be eliminated before they fester into some type of unnecessary cancer.

you're weak, when he first saw you, when you first approached him with your tail tucked behind your legs and an invitation to hang out together with the scent of cookies wafting in the air— he knows that it is you who will make him weak.

you give him temptations to be a child, he's raised to fight against it. he ignores the unwelcomed feeling of wamth that blooms in his chest, those are feelings that gets you killed.

so it's how the story goes: he brings his sword up to your neck, and sways his hands swift enough to make a small cut to ensure that the first thing you associate him with is fear. and for someone vulnerable like you, it doesn't take much before you quickly submit to the prospect of your place beneath a trained assassin like him.

he ignores the sudden pang of his heart and the aching, gnawing dread that chews at his mind at the memory of your widening eyes and the wobble in your steps.

it's already damaging enough to have the youngest be introduced and immediately accepted into the family, but it's worse when he's significantly younger than you, a boy nearly half your age; someone you've always wanted to have, to care for, to help raise and cherish... despises you from the start, before you two even formed a connection.

someone you once called your younger brother, now became an enemy in opposing lines in a place called home.

what would've been fine-tuned jealousy towards him because he was given everything in a silver platter turned into shame that you couldn't even face him, not right after he threatened to kill you, no... and especially not after you've convinced yourself that if you couldn't even prove your worth for a young boy like him, then you really have nothing good to offer.

you give him the autonomy to think it's alright, that due to his upbringing, alongside your naive brain always justifying that your other siblings are right, and you are in the wrong— he was given every opportunity to torment you when you even go as far as being in the same room as him.

and i have my receipts on why you're just like that; all in the grace of low self-worth and self-esteem. past you reasons out that it's because it's always your fault.

you couldn't even find a way to save your mother, you couldn't even establish your place in the manor, you couldn't comfort bruce when he was still not over jason, what more could you be when all you see damian as is a young, broken child like you? that behind that veil of threats and weapons ready to attack you, is someone you knew could've been different, if he was raised right...

if he'd given you a chance to help nurture the softer, more humane part of him.

you've always wanted a younger sibling, not only from back when you were just with your mother, but also when you were introduced to the manor. because not only did it mean that you'll know how your mother felt when she raised you, but because you thought you'd have somebody by your side throughout the silent torment you've went through.

and when you're graced with one, who doesn't even consider you his older sibling; you let it be.

you let him be himself.

damian wayne, demon's granson, the son of the bat.

so many titles he's called, but never one where he's your younger brother.

it doesn't help that you justify his past, because the man you idolize, dick, does so too whenever you try to complain. his excuses are never out of malicious intent to have you suffer further— it's just that he never once actually considered you as important enough to bat an eye on, like how the rest of them treat you.

because you know that even dick has his limit towards the youngest member of the family; he just never reaches it when it comes to you.

so if you have a person allow another to act terribly towards you, but have another, a friend or family, who teaches you that it's not right, who fights by your side; it wouldn't take long for you to also learn how to defend yourself then. you'll gain confidence that you're at least not alone, that your actions are completely valid.

... but if you have an entire family that couldn't even scold the boy for leaving a scar on your neck, who brushes his mean comments about you aside, who isolates you even further with malicious words that you know becomes crueler when targeted at you—

then you have no basis for what is right, and what is wrong.

and that makes your authority, your trust in yourself dwindle like your already crumbling relationship with all the others the further you try to fight back.

that's when you learn what it's like to give up, all over again. if you accept his vidictive insults, if you know your place to turn back if you see him in the same room, if you knew from the start that sometimes trying doesn't equate to succeeding; then it'll at least numb the pain that comes after.

for the entirety of your life from when damian was introduced, that was how you coped—

but your life after the manor, after damian matures and learns softness, about empathy (that he's buried long ago during his training from when he was all but a toddler) on your situation; reading your journal entries because he still felt entitled to due to some hidden, twisted trait of possessiveness... that's an entirely different story.

would you still be as understanding as you were back in the past towards him? would you still force yourself to love the demon you saw as just a little boy? or would damian finally understand that it's too late to turn back time, to correct all his mistakes?

either way, if you were capable enough to change (at least, in his eyes), becoming an independent person (you think, huh? your place is at the manor), then maybe you could give him a chance too, to fix your relationship and build a bridge to an even stronger one.

one where you could finally baby him, like what you've desired. one where he could feel vulnerable, when he learned that it's valid to feel weak— it cuts back to the previous points: you make him weak.

and when he's out to find you after going through every single diary, every entry, after deducing that there's still a small spark in your that'll forgive him if he tries; he refuses give up any sooner if it meant replicating the same warmth he felt when he stood by your presence.

so... you wouldn't want to leave your youngest brother waiting for you, don't you?

after all, it's just like what your entries told him, right? this is what you always wanted, right?

a/n: everyone is entitled to their own feelings about how i portray damian and mc's relationship!!! i love how all of you guys have different conflicting reactions to this. it's all so complex for me, how damian sees you as someone who's weak and makes him weak (he's just a stubborn little guy), and you, who sees yourself in damian, alongside the added desire to just have someone to care for (because you want to so badly honor your mother's memory), and that person also caring for you is ARGH!!?!

i apologize for my long rambles (if anyone wants me to cut back on posts like this, just tell me), i'm sure everyone is anticipating chapter 5 and possibly (soon) chapter 6 (since the drafts, not the final work is becoming too long). but right now, all i could provide are my depictions of the reader's relationship with every member of the family. i love to churn scenarios where it feels like you're actually part of the family so i'm actually manipulating all of you guys to become attached to the characters too, just to add an extra layer of angst, hehe...

[jujuprincesinhasofia]

because Stranger Things did not say

“you shouldn't like things because people tell you you're supposed to" in s1,

"Nobody normal ever accomplished anything meaningful in this world" in s2,

"Instead of dating somebody because you think's gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around?" in s3,

and screamed "It's forced conformity. That's what's killing the kids! That's the real monster." in s4

for people to assume a character's sexuality and use it as an argument to say there's no chance a ship is endgame, ignoring countless parallels with canon ships (crazy together, lost you, hand holding, screaming for the name, running to apologize, sleeping in the hospital, characters sacrificing their feelings, looking at lips, and more)

the show is called stranger things, its about NOT being what's considered normal, it will NOT have the boy and girl who met at 12 and kissed a few days later when she didn't even know what she liked be endgame if they don't work their many problems out (for example mike lying in the monologue)

but ultimately, its a show for the "nerds and freaks," it's a show for the "I'm not like your other friends. And I'm not like Nancy Wheeler"

it's about realizing that "I may be a shitty boyfriend but turns out I'm a pretty damn good babysitter" and that being "Platonic with a capital P" with a girl can be "bitchin" too

it wont be mileven endgame until el knows who she is without almost dying for more than one episode and without a boyfriend. come on, why do people want her to get proposed to at 18 when "there's more to life than stupid boys"

the show is about making "when you’re different, sometimes you feel like a mistake" people "feel like she’s not a mistake at all. Like she’s better for being different."

and well, if "fruit on your pizza is gnarly, you say? Well, I say try before you deny"

update abt posting a similar on reddit: people are surprisingly nice!!! im happy to have been proved wrong. 6 upvotes, a respectful comment saying im reaching, and not banned!!

update two: some downvotes :(

update three: some very mean people, some very nice people!!!!

update four: some are confusing, but no one cussed me out yet, im still happy bc of that nice person who doesn't even ship byler

update five: i got removed and called a very awful person lmao, it lasted an hour

[whyareyoulookingatmelikethat]

twisted sprout x distractor reader x twisted cosmo?

bonus points if reader's a little overly cocky and gets Got (maybe we get like. kidnapped or something. whatever you think would fit best in the getting got category [: )

...no this isn't inspired by me doing stupid stuff while distracting and getting punished for it. why would you think that noo /j

[20]: In The End

Not much to say right now. Not in the best mood after something happened, but I still hope you enjoy.

You were known as the chaotic one of the group.

Reckless, mischievous, you name it.

Honestly, no one really knew why you were the distractor, but they just went along with it because who else did they have to distract?

So here you were, skipping your way along the dark halls, your mood completely cheerful despite the disturbing sounds of the monsters chasing you.

The smile on your face was as bright as it would be on a sunny day, strangely enough.

You weren't one to strategize either. The instant you found a speed candy on the floor? Eat it in an instant.

Chocolate bars? Sounds good! Bottles of pop? Sure thing! No saving whatsoever.

You were literally the embodiment of idiotic.

And you liked it.

What was wrong about being stupid? Everyone is, so might as well come to terms with it.

You giggled, rounding the corner and making a U-turn around the twisteds.

Some say you’re confusing. Some say you’re drunk. Some say you’re crazy. (Which you are, but focus!)

You had the most positive,(Yes, even more positive than Poppy) yet deranged look on your situation, is what people said.

You didn’t care if there were monsters chasing you. You didn’t care if you were possibly going to die soon. After all, if you're going to go out, might as well have a little fun while doing so!

No you weren’t suicidal, just…you tried to make the best of your situation.

Was this place causing you to go insane? Probably. Who wouldn’t, after seeing their friends die in front of them one by one?

Ah, you remember now. Vee being mauled by Twisted Pebble, Boxten’s bones being crushed by Twisted Goob’s grip, Astro being killed by…well, Twisted Astro. Or who you like to call, the leech.

Their deaths were so traumatizing, you say with absolutely no emotion whatsoever, like you’re being sarcastic, but you’re not.

What reason would you have to be?

You didn’t really hate anyone here, not Vee or Glisten with their pride, Rodger with his nosiness, or even Shrimpo with his yelling. He had good reason to be bitter.

You heard a screech behind you, a warning. With practiced grace, you twirled around the easily avoidable tendril sprouting up from the floor, not even staining your shoes with the black ichor.

As you skipped on, avoiding a swipe of a smaller black claw, you wondered how the twisteds were even dumber than you, to the point they would just run around in circles after you and not even cut through the middle. They also wouldn’t jump or step over obstacles, nor knock them aside. They reminded you of homing missiles, but worse.

They acted as if a bean bag was a brick wall, and it was funny, yet extremely confusing. It bugged you to the point of insanity.(Not really, you're still sane but you know)

So you entertained the thought that maybe they were all blind. Their eyes were blood-red, so it would make sense that their vision is messed up, but that doesn’t explain how the amalgamation that was once a sweet and loving dog could now see you across half the entire floor, but couldn’t see you over a colorful kids table, despite towering over you.

It didn’t make any sense. It was like every single obstacle ever was an invisible wall for them. And you thought you were dumb…

You hummed, breaking out of your train of thought. Your eyes widened as you came face to face with a wall, smacking straight into it.

You could feel a headache beginning to form as you fell backwards towards the ground, hitting your head on the painfully hard concrete. You could hear the slightest crack and you cried out, immediately curling yourself up and hands shooting up to your head.

It…felt warm. Weirdly warm, and sticky.

Oh.

You already knew what it was.

You pressed down hard on your scalp as the twisteds closed in on you. You’d go out quick, at least.

The only thing you saw before it was all gone was two blurry faces staring down at you, hissing and groaning filling the air.

[askew-d]

you know what’s crazy? how lan xichen defended jin guangyao saying that though the world had many misconceptions about him he still trusted his character just to have that affirmation thrown at his face — no, it’s not even about the naivety of it that makes me laugh, it’s about how he was the person to have seen lan wangji’s grief, had seen his persistence in raising a kid on behalf of wei wuxian, had seen his trials and his willingness to be beside wei wuxian regardless of the world telling him that the guy’s evil. he’s seen it firsthand.

all the while he probably must’ve pitied his brother, uniting with the sects to kill wei wuxian nonetheless, because he didn’t believe in the patriarch’s innocence. it’s that unconscious patronisation that makes it all the more ironic. and the fact that it was exactly jin guangyao’s actions that led to wei wuxian’s downfall.

i know lan xichen’s a good person, but it’s obvious that him and lan qiren had judged wei wuxian countless time throughout it all, and not only because he was ‘tainting’ lan wangji. i was quite annoyed when he called wei wuxian ‘his only mistake��, because, in fact, lan xichen was the one who mistakenly believed in the biggest villain, so he doesn’t have any room to talk. he committed three mistakes: by his perspective of lan wangji and wei wuxian’s relationship, of wei wuxian’s evilness and in his sworn brother as a whole.

it’s more than justified that he took his time in seclusion. it takes a while to come around such a massive mistake (did he think that too, when he saw his brother doing the same all those years ago?). not to mention that it must’ve been a big blow to realize that nie huaisang wasn’t the person he thought he was as well.

this parallel just came to me and i had to rant it so. i know it’s obvious, but yeah. don’t get me wrong, i just think lan xichen having this bit of a ‘fate’ is so good to the novel. brilliant move, mxtx, brilliant move.

[mcflymemes]

INDIANA JONES AND THE LAST CRUSADE (1989) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary

i hate these guys.

this is a new experience for me.

it happens to me all the time.

you lost today, [name]. but that doesn't mean you have to like it.

may we go home now, please?

i've got a lot of fond memories of that dog.

he sticks out like a sore thumb. we'll find him.

does anyone here speak english?

what are you hiding?

archaeology is the search for fact, not truth.

forget any ideas you've got about lost cities, exotic travel, and digging up the world.

we do not follow maps to buried treasure, and "x" never... ever marks the spot.

70% of all archaeology is done in the library. researching. reading.

we cannot afford to take mythology at face value.

help me get us out of here.

are you kidding? i made all that up.

she talks in her sleep.

try not to talk.

give me your other hand. i can't hold on.

i can get it. i can almost reach it.

[name], let it go.

those people are trying to kill us.

i didn't know you could fly a plane.

our situation has not improved.

i'm as human as the next man.

i'm like a bad penny, i always turn up.

throw down the gun or the girl will die.

no! don't shoot!

please do what he says!

[name], what are you doing here?

head for the fireplace!

why are you sitting there resting when we're so near the end?

don't look at me like that.

i would have done anything to get it. you would have done the same.

i'm sorry you think so.

i'll never forgive myself.

thank god... it's fake.

look, can we discuss this later?

i came here to save you!

look what you did! i can't believe what you did!

i'll never forget how wonderful it was.

you have chosen wisely.

did you intend to leave us standing on the doorstep all day?

now look, i've gone and caught a sniffle.

don't take that tone with me!

this is the second time i've had to reclaim my property from you.

that belongs in a museum.

why are you trying to kill us?

my soul is prepared. how's yours?

what have you brought?

i'm sorry about your head. i thought that you were one of them.

you came back for the book?

is that what you think of me?

who gives a damn what you believe?

follow me. i know the way.

i find that if i just sit down to think... the solution presents itself.

in this sort of race, there's no silver medal for finishing second.

we didn't talk. we've never talked.

what are you complaining about?

you could go down in history.

you're going the wrong way.

the pen is mightier than the sword.

are you crazy? don't go between them!

my reputation preceeds me.

it would make me very happy.

shooting me won't get you anywhere.

we're well out of range.

you call this archaeology?

we are on the verge of completing a quest that began almost two thousand years ago.

we're just one step away.

since i've met you, i've nearly been incinerated, drowned, shot at, and chopped into fish bait.

we're caught in the middle of something sinister here.

you're a great deal like your father.

how dare you kiss me.

leave me alone. i don't like fast women.

you say this has been just another typical day for you, huh?

you're meddling with powers you can't possibly comprehend.

if only i could have been there with you.

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 2

Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader

Part 1 here

smut will be in part 3, don't worry :)

“Y/n!” Maggie practically tackled me as soon as I walked through the gates, followed by the others. 

“The hell you been?” Daryl grunted with an angry expression, refusing to hug me. 

“He’s been out looking for you everyday since you left.” Maggie clarified. 

I pushed him playfully as I walked by. “You knew I’d be back, I told you I didn’t want to be found.” 

After all the hellos and welcome backs, I finally made it back to my house, thrilled to be alone again. That was too much. 

While unpacking my things along with some of the items I stole from the cabin, I noticed my picture of me and Glenn was missing. No, no, no. Please tell me I didn’t leave it. It was the only thing I had left of him. 

A knock on my door distracted me and I went to answer, finding Rick on the other side. 

“Hey, heard you were back. Just wanted to come say hi.” 

“Hey, its good to be home.”

“Listen, a lots happened since you left. You need to know about the Saviors. They’ve been here a few times already. They’re scheduled to return tomorrow.” Rick’s hand rested on his hips as he looked down. “I thought you’d wanna know.” 

I forced a smile. “Thanks for the heads up.”

I closed the door and exhaled a breath. It’s a good thing they’re coming tomorrow. I need to meet this asshole and learn his ways. Learn how to destroy him and what makes him weak. 

I settled back in, had some dinner, and decided to read some of my book. When I opened the page, the corner was dog-eared and at a place I didn’t remember reading. 

Oh my god. I have never in my life dog-eared a page…..

Should I be relieved that I’m not crazy? Or sad that my mystery man left without saying goodbye? It doesn’t matter. I reminded myself and went upstairs to go to bed. Stopping in the doorway, my jaw dropped at the empty space where my bed used to be. Not even a pillow left behind. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. 

Maybe I’ll kill them all. Not just Negan. Fucking pricks. 

I slept on the couch downstairs. Luckily I still had that left. I woke in the morning to the sound of a loud, obnoxious voice outside. It sounded familiar. I didn’t bother changing out of my sleep clothes or brushing my hair before heading outside. I couldn’t let them think  I was scared or hiding. If my plan was going to work, I needed to be assertive. 

I quickly joined the others, who were standing around Rick and that’s when I saw him. Negan. His back was turned to me, but I knew it was him because a baseball bat rested on his shoulder. He was wearing a leather jacket, and his hair was black, slicked back, and…. Oh god. 

That can’t be… 

I suddenly felt sick, like I could faint any moment. 

“Reeelax, Prick. We’ll be in and out in no time.” He patted Rick’s shoulder before waving a finger in a circular motion and signaling his men to start their routine intrusion. Negan whistled, spinning on his heels before instantly locking eyes with me. His arrogant smirk faded into regret the moment he saw me. I turned away, quickly walking back to my house.

“Shit, wait.” i heard him call from behind me.

I ignored him and made it all the way to my porch before his hand grabbed my wrist and spun me around. 

“Baby, please. Listen.” 

“I am not your Baby. What the hell is wrong with you?!” I said through my teeth, jerking out of his grip. 

“Please, just let me explain.”

“And if I don’t? You’ll just forcefully break into my house anyway! So sure! Come on in.” I spit out furiously as Negan followed me into my house. Two of his men were already inside, lifting my couch. 

My hands flew up. “Oh, great.” 

“Put it down.” Negan ordered his men who gave him a funny look in return. “Are you deaf or fucking stupid? Put. It. Down. This house is off limits.”

“Yes sir.” They obeyed, setting my couch back down and awkwardly left. Negan and I stood in silence for a moment before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a picture. It was the one of me and my brother and I felt my throat closing. 

“When you fell asleep that night, I carried you to bed and found this on your nightstand. I knew you looked familiar, but once I realized..” He paused, looking up at you. “..I felt so guilty. So I left. And I haven’t stopped thinking about you once. Baby, I am so sorr-”

I laughed loudly, cutting his sentence off. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes so I looked up at the ceiling to hold them in. "You cannot be fucking serious right now. You murdered my brother, in the worst way possible, and then you have the nerve to give me a half ass apology?!” I scoffed, shaking my head. 

He set the picture on the end table and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Alright, what’s it gonna take for you to forgive me? You want me to get down on my knees and beg?” He walked closer, towering over me. 

“Yes, actually.” 

His smile widened as he looked back and forth between my eyes, but I remained serious. He shook his head in disbelief, but finally gave in. Leaning his bat against the back of the couch, he kneeled in front of me. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Please, forgive me.”

"Let me bash your head in. Then I'll consider it."

An uncomfortable silence filled the room and he nodded towards his bat. 

"Fine, go ahead." He whispered.

"Wh-what?"

"Go ahead, doll. Bash my brains out, if that’ll make you feel better." 

I walked over to the bat hesitantly, not taking my eyes off of him. When I stood in front of him again, I looked down at the bat in my hands - the same one that killed Glenn. My tears spilled over the wood and I dropped it like it burned my skin. 

My knees buckled beneath me before Negan caught me, pulling me close to him and adjusting us so that he was holding me in his lap. I sobbed into his chest as he held me tightly, stroking my hair while his chin rested against the top of my head.

"Goddamn it, doll. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t say it enough. I wish I could bring him back." Negan sounded as if he was crying himself.

I let him hold me a moment longer before I shoved him away and stood up. "Please just go. I don’t want to see you again." 

He looked at me pleadingly as he stood, and for a moment I let myself imagine his sincerity until my gaze returned to the floor and he left without another word, taking his stupid bat with him.

2 weeks later...

I’ve fully betrayed myself. Thinking of Negan like he was the only man to exist. My days ran together, and the more time went by, the more I missed my brother, and the more I resented myself for fantasizing about the man who took him from me.

The loud rumbling of engines vibrated my ears as I washed shampoo out of my hair. Stepping out of the shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and approached my bedroom window, moving the curtain slightly.

Rick's back was facing my window while Negan stood in front of him. I remained still, trying to listen to their conversation and also to avoid drawing attention to myself in the window. 

Sensing my stare, Negan's eyes darted up, instantly meeting mine. I couldn't look away, being frozen in mix of emotions that I didn't know was hatred or lust. Or both. 

A smirk appeared on his face, causing Rick to turn and look towards the window, making me quickly drop the curtain and step back. I brushed my hair, threw on some shorts and a tank top and headed downstairs. As soon as I reached the bottom, there was a knock on the door. My heart raced and I scolded myself on the inside for smiling, quickly replacing it with a frown. Get a fucking grip.

I opened the door, probably with too much eagerness. "I thought i told-"

Oh.. it's just..

"The hells going on with you and Negan?"

"What?" 

"Ya heard me."

I stared at Daryl confused and shocked, not understanding where this sudden confrontation was coming from.

"Nothing! Nothing is going on, what is that even supposed to mean?" I looked past Daryl to find the Saviors' truck already gone and it felt like a punch to my gut.

"I saw that little exchange from your window. Not to mention his last visit when he kicked the saviors outta here." Daryl’s hands rested on his hips and luckily no one else was around to hear his little outburst. This was the most I’d ever heard him speak. 

"Daryl, where is this coming from? How could you seriously think I could ever have an interest in him after what he did?!"

Daryl’s head dropped. "Glenn made me promise if anything ever happened to him, that I’d look after ya."

Tears filled my eyes. 

“We care about ya. Just trying ta keep you safe.”

"I know." You smiled sympathetically before Daryl turned to leave. "Wait.. they left quickly this time. What did they take?" 

"You should know. He only went to your house."

I frowned, closing my front door and suddenly the air around me felt different. I looked around for any trace of him, but it seemed the only thing he left was a pit in my stomach and a faint trail of leather cologne. I was getting ready to head upstairs when something caught my eye from the kitchen table. A rose, lying next to a folded piece of paper.

Meet me at our place tonight. We need to talk. 

Part 3 here

tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires

[oimitocat]

MIND ME | HC

txt ot5 (separately) x gn!reader

reacting to reader with dark/trauma humor + implied past suicidal tendencies + implied past trauma + coping with humor + therapy sessions + idol au! + implied eating disorders

a/n: literally fair warning, if you can’t handle it, move on. this is fiction but with real life tendencies.

—HUENING KAI

one day you had to do your therapy session over the phone due to your busy schedule. kai had come in to sit with you as your session was close to an end. the basic “see you next time, call me if you need to chat or have questions” thing goes on and then you hang up.

he’s comfortable in your bed, you crawl in to cuddle with him.

“anything new?” he asks, he’s always so caring, so tender.

“nah.” then you pause, smiling.

“what is it?” he asks, “why are you smiling?”

you shake your head, “just remembered this joke i made to my therapist.”

“a joke?” he asks, curious.

you watch him, smiling at the mess of his hair. “so like, i use to self harm-“ his eyes widen a bit, yet he quickly fixes his expression, “-and so she asked if i still do it and i joked and said ‘no i have alcohol now’…” you sigh, “she didn’t laugh.”

and you bust out laughing when kai purses his lips, unsure if he should cry or find it funny either.

“y/n!”

“kai! i don’t drink! be for real!” you cackle as your cuddle him, easing his worries.

—CHOI BEOMGYU

“y/n, do you want to stay with me and keep practicing?”

“what? you’re saying i suck and need to keep practicing?”

beomgyu gasps, “no! what? i just- well the step we keep messing up! we should practice it!”

“so you’re saying i’m bad at it and you’re covering it by saying we both do? great, another thing i’m bad at.”

“what’s the other thing you’re supposedly bad at!” he argues, smiling at you.

“oh it’s a long list,” you say with a grin.

“as if.”

“no for real,” you pick up your water bottle, back facing his, “killing myself is number one. apparently i’m bad at it.” you shake your head before pausing.

“what?”

“i’m joking,” you say quickly, seeing the worry in his eyes. “beomgyu.”

“ah…” he just watches you, messing with his water bottle. “am i allowed to laugh when you joke like that?”

“if you want, i don’t care. would be preferable.” you pat his back, “let’s practice yeah?”

—KANG TAEHYUN

you were watching people getting their bones popped. it’s crazy what areas can be popped to soothe the body. yet you and taehyun were cringing and laughing.

“oh- ah!” taehyun flinches, watching how they popped someone’s neck.

“dude maybe i should go get my neck snapped.”

“don’t you mean popped?” he asks, smiling at your silliness.

you shake your head, “no. i mean snapped.”

taehyun rolls his eyes, “you wanna die or something?”

“always have.” and you get a smack on the arm, to which you laugh at. he knows your joking, and that makes you feel warm.

—CHOI SOOBIN

literally you love food. sadly the industry makes you develop a decently bad relationship with it sometimes. so, one day you’re eating sweet bread and go- “shit, i’m supposed to be on a diet for our comeback.”

“huh? why?” soobin frowns. “wait, really?”

“it’s okay, i’ll just starve until then, it’ll be like this never happened.”

“y/n, what?”

you glance at him while chewing, “what?”

“why the hell would you starve?” he eyes you, “wait, what does your diet consist of then?”

“coffee and antidepressants.” you joke.

“funny.”

“i know.”

—CHOI YEONJUN

it’s a task. literally, all of you are on a reality show and you have to fill out a questionnaire or something. you’re thinking on this question.

“what’s wrong?” yeonjun asks you while beomgyu and soobin make ruckus about what their answers are.

“i’m not sure what to put.”

“y/n, it’s basic questions.”

“that’s what my therapist said and then i was diagnosed a bunch of stuff.”

“the question is literally what’s your favorite childhood memory?”

“so about that, i don’t remember cus apparently — fun fact, when you experience some sort of trauma as a kid your mind blocks any memory during that age and time. i don’t remember shit,” you whisper. “what am i supposed to put? that my mom beat me with a spoon until i finished my homework?”

he stares at you, unsure what to do with that bomb drop. he knows you cope with humor, hence, “steal one of mine then.”

“bet.”

[ruthlessrps]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. - feel free to make any adjustments as necessary!

"what is the measure of a true hero?"

"will you listen to him?"

"lighten up, dude."

"i'll take it from here, darling."

"it was a nasty place."

"behave yourself."

"look how cute he is."

"he's strong. like his dad."

"keep those away from the baby."

"let the kid have a little fun."

"is this an audience or a mosaic?"

"there's the little sunspot."

"i regrettably have a full time gig."

"you'll work yourself to death."

"i know you know."

"did you cut your hair or something? you look fabulous."

"my fate is in your lovely hands."

"okay, fine, fine. i'm cool, i'm fine."

"how do you kill a god?"

"perhaps they've answered our prayers."

"that boy is a menace."

"he's too dangerous to be around normal people."

"he didn't mean any harm. he's just a kid."

"i'm warning you. keep that freak away from here."

"you shouldn't let those things they said back there get to you."

"i try to fit in, i just can't."

"i feel like i really don't belong here."

"i have often dreamed of a far-off place."

"this is where i'm meant to be."

"i know every mile will be worth my while."

"i would go almost anywhere to feel like i belong."

"it's the symbol of the gods."

"you're old enough now to know the truth."

"how do you become a true hero?"

"i will please the gods."

"you sure this is the right place?"

"haven't you ever had a dream?"

"come inside. i want to show you something."

"every single one of those bums let me down."

"dreams are for rookies."

"i'm different from those other guys."

"i'm too old to get mixed up in this stuff again."

"i'm down to one last hope."

"you're not exactly a dream come true."

"you'll have to do."

"now that's more like it!"

"you want a road test? saddle up, kid."

"not so fast, sweetheart."

"i'm a damsel, i'm in distress, i can handle this."

"what are you doing? get your sword."

"a hero's only as good as his weapon."

"is wonderboy here for real?"

"at least i beat him, didn't i?"

"did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?"

"are you always this articulate?"

"who are you calling a rodent?"

"he comes on with his innocent farm boy routine, but i can see through that in a new york minute."

"people here are nuts because they live in a city of turmoil."

"it seems to me that what you folks need is a hero."

"i have this terrible fear of heights."

"try to be a little bit more careful next time."

"i don't think we covered this one in basic training."

"you gotta admit - that was pretty heroic."

"he was so hot steam looked cool."

"everybody's got a weakness."

"there is nothing you can't do."

"it's great to see you. i missed you."

"you sound like you could use a break."

"i didn't know playing hooky could be so much fun."

"wonderboy, you are perfect."

"when i was a kid i would've given anything to be exactly like everybody else."

"you're the most amazing person i've ever met."

"when i'm with you i don't feel so alone."

"i would never ever hurt you."

"let's both do ourselves a favour and stop this."

"that's it. next time, i drive."

"no man is worth the aggravation."

"get yourself another girl. i'm through."

"i can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy."

"people are gonna get hurt, aren't they?"

"now you know how it feels to be just like everyone else."

"i know what i did was wrong, but this isn't about me."

"if you don't help him now, he'll die."

"people always do crazy things when they're in love."

[l0v3tast3]

Older!pervy!boyfriend!price was sooo vfhdhshsg. I loved it.

But he would probably 100% get you pregnant. And whisk you awy from your parents.

god DAMN you anons are gonna kill me you just keep coming up with better and better ideas (☆ω☆) also uwu thank you anon im glad you liked it :3 <<333

obviously, you can't blame the man for wanting kids. plenty of people do, plenty of people don't, and there's nothing wrong with either. so when he watches you coo at a baby that you pass by while out walking together, you shouldn't be surprised that as soon as you're back home john is pressing your legs into your chest to dig his cock that much deeper into you.

he's like a man possessed; you'll end up a babbling mess, weakly pushing at his chest and scratching at his arms, trying desperately to form the words to ask him for a break. john bends down to kiss your drool-covered lips and wipe away the tears of overstimulation from your cheeks. he murmurs soothingly that you're doing so good, that you'll look so beautiful with his baby, that he'll take such good care of everything, such good care of you.

john's hips slow their assault on yours and melt into a near-hypnotizing rock back and forth as a way of giving you a break. "already so gorgeous, how am i gonna handle you carrying my child, hm? y'think you're already pregnant, darling? mm, i know you're tired, i know sweetheart, we just gotta make sure. jus' one more, promise, bein' such a good girl f'me."

of course it's not "just one more". never mind the fact that he's in his late thirties and most men his age would have probably pulled several muscles by now. never mind the fact that he's cumming in you, buried as deep as he possibly can be inside you for the fourth time that night. none of that matters because the image of your belly round and your tits swollen and heavy with milk, you asking him for help because they're just so sore makes him feel drunk.

and sure enough, a couple weeks later when your period is late, the pregnancy test you take with a shaking leg comes up positive. john nearly cries from happiness when you tell him; he's over the moon, pretty much worshipping you, raining kisses all over your face and neck and hugging you and promising you everything you'd ever want and need. your parents don't take it nearly as well, so you end up moving in with him, to his even greater delight (he's already setting up the nursery by the time you manage to get all your stuff out of your old room).

john damn near makes the call to take a leave of absence before you even take the test, no doubt about it. he makes good on his promises and gets you everything you even mention you're thinking about (sometimes you think he's psychic because he'll get stuff you like before you even say anything about it). you'll never have to lift a finger. he claims it's so you don't hurt the baby, but he's literally taking plates out of your hands to put back in the cupboards when you're still in your first trimester.

when you start showing, john just goes fucking crazy. of course he restrains himself, but thank god your hormones are making you more horny too because the physical proof of you growing his child, your belly swelling and your breasts steadily growing heavier makes him feel like a teenager discovering porn again, constantly fucking horny for you.

tl;dr, john price will breed you literally as soon as you even give a hint of wanting/liking kids

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- one.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, arguing, jealousy, weed, brief mention of sex, reader gets caught with a vape at the airport 💔

w.c- 2,144

a.n- this is my first fic ever! and ofc with noah, who else? let me know how you like it! feedback is always welcome <3

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment.

"come on dude, hurry up before we miss the flight." nicholas' voice rang throughout my apartment. i groaned, zipping up my suitcase and running downstairs.

i started as the photographer for bad omens back in 2015 when they formed. i'd been friends with nicholas since we were kids, and he put in a little word to their singer about how he had a friend who studied photography and could help them out. so then i was hired.

little did i know, i would grow to loathe their lead singer, noah sebastian. he was a thorn in my side, always nagging and arguing over things where half the time, he wasn't even right.

nicholas and i got in the uber, heading to the airport. we were leaving for yet another tour. which meant yet another unbearable year with noah. we were meeting them there, and i was a little less than thrilled.

"penny for your thoughts?" nicholas said, noticing how i was zoning out.

"just thinking about how unbearable noah is. i am not happy about this." i sighed.

nicholas laughed softly, shaking his head. "you ever think that maybe that 'hate' is something else?" i looked at him, confused. "like what?" i asked.

"oh, i dunno, love? lust? whatever you wanna call it."

i looked at him like he just told me he killed my family. what a crazy thought. me? in love with noah? absolutely not. hell no.

"i would rather swallow shards of glass than date that motherfucker." i said, nicholas laughing at my words.

we soon arrived at the airport, meeting up with the others at the entrance. i made it my mission to avoid noah, which soon proved to be unsuccessful.

"nice shoes." he said sarcastically, walking next to me in front of the other three.

i rolled my eyes. "what's wrong with my shoes?" i asked, looking down at my dirty and worn converses.

noah rolled his eyes back. "you look like you haven't bought a new pair of shoes in years. i know damn well we pay you enough, you can afford them."

"yeah, i can afford them. but i don't want them." i said. "i'm perfectly fine with these. they're in good shape, just a little dirty."

"a little is putting it lightly." he said. "you look like you've gone through multiple wars in those things. buy some new damn shoes, please."

i ignored his words, putting all my things in a little tub as we began to go through security. when i went through the detector, they flagged me down and pulled me to the side, making me furrow my brows. i didn't think i had anything. i put everything in the bin. except... fuck.

i groaned as they pulled the vape out of my pocket, the others in front of me trying not to laugh at the situation as they gathered theirs and my items.

"we're gonna have to confiscate this, miss." the guard said, and i nodded. they gave me one last pat down before letting me go.

"nice job, idiot." noah said as i slung my backpack over my shoulder.

"do you have to make a jab at every mistake i make?" i snapped back. "no, but it's funny."

i huffed, starting to walk to our terminal, not in the mood for any more teasing or jokes.

"oh, come the fuck on." i groaned as noah sat beside me on the plane. "you had to have done this on purpose."

"sorry, princess. happened by chance." he said, starting to get comfortable.

i placed my head in my hands, mentally cursing everyone and everything for this happening to me before facing him again.

"i'm saying this now, and i better not have to repeat myself. i'd like to have a nice, calm, and quiet flight. if you bother me, i swear to god i will punch you. got it?"

noah snickered and gave a mock salute. "yes ma'am."

i sighed, putting on my headphones to block out the noises of the other people around me and closed my eyes.

a couple hours later, there was a tap on my shoulder. i sighed deeply before taking off my headphones and facing the culprit. noah, of course. "what?"

"do you have snacks? i'm hungry."

"no, idiot. why would i have snacks on an airplane? ask the flight attendant."

"i don't want to do that." he said.

"then starve or something, i don't care." i replied, moving to put my headphones back on.

"but y/nnnn!" he whined, shaking my shoulder like a toddler. he was doing this on purpose to piss me off.

"don't touch me with your gross hands" i said, pushing him away.

"then get me snacks."

"get them your damn self." i shot back.

noah rolled his eyes. "can't you do something for somebody else for once? you're so damn selfish."

"you're calling me selfish because i won't get you a snack? do you hear yourself right now? you sound like a child." i said.

"whatever, will you please call the flight attendant for me? the button is on your side."

"no, do it yourself." i said stubbornly.

"come on, you can't press a button? i don't want to lean on you to press it." he said.

i rolled my eyes, pressing the button. "there, happy?"

he rolled his eyes back, the flight attendant approaching him. of course, he had to flirt with her when she came up. when did he never flirt with people? she wasn't even that pretty, why was he doing that? surely he could do better. i mean, i'm better.

woah, what? i can't be thinking that. i hate him. hate him more than anything. i'm not jealous.

i kept repeating that to myself over and over again, trying to convince myself that the words were true.

i'm not jealous. i'm not jealous. i'm not. it's fine, it's whatever.

but as the attendant left, i found myself speaking again.

"seriously?" i asked.

"what?" he replied, feigning innocence.

"do you have to flirt with every girl you see? she's not even that pretty."

"aww, is someone jealous?" he teased.

i rolled my eyes, grimacing. "you wish. i would rather swallow glass than be with you." i said, repeating the words i had spoken to nicholas just hours prior.

"the feeling's mutual, princess." he said, giving me a wink.

by the time we made it to our hotel, i was exhausted, frustrated, and hungry. throughout the entire flight, noah would not stop bothering me. asking stupid questions, flirting with girls, jabbing and poking me and other things of the sort.

i went to my hotel room, which i would be sharing with nicholas, doordashing some food and laying on my bed.

"how was the flight?" he asked.

"how do you think?" i replied. "i swear, when i find out who booked the tickets, they're getting an earful."

nicholas bit his lip, trying to hide his laugh, but not doing very well. i looked at him with furrowed brows before it dawned on me.

"you bitch! why would you do that to me?!" i yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

"because the tension is unbearable! you guys need to resolve your issues and fuck already." he said, catching the pillow in his tattooed hands.

i grimaced at the simple thought of doing anything with him. "gross. never. it's not happening." i said.

"you say that now." he said. "how about we make a bet?"

i raised my eyebrow, motioning for him to go on.

"if anything, and i mean anything happens with you and noah, i get $100. kissing, cuddling, sex, whatever."

i shrugged. should be simple enough, right?

"alright. what's in it for me?" i asked.

"if nothing happens throughout the whole tour, then i'll do whatever you want."

"oh, you're gonna regret saying that." i laughed. "be prepared to lose."

he smirked, holding out his hand for me to shake. i shook his hand, and then there was a knock on the door. that must be our food.

i got up, going to open the door and accepting the food from the worker before closing the door and setting it on the bed, giving nicholas his items and sitting down cris-crossed on my bed.

"so, where's the first show?" i asked.

"about an hour or so from here." he said, and i nodded. we were in Ohio right now, so it was probably in Columbus or some place close.

"sold out?" i asked as i took a bite of my food.

"almost." he replied. "if it's not sold out by tomorrow, i'll be surprised. tickets are selling fast as fuck."

"that's good." i said. "you guys have progressed a lot in ten years. that's really fucking good."

nicholas smiled softly. "yeah, i'm just glad we made it this far. when we first got together, we all just thought it would be a fun little pass time and play a couple shows and make a little extra money. never thought it would be this big."

i nodded. "i'm proud of you guys, though. it takes a lot of talent to make it this far."

the two of us talked about random things as we ate our food and watched whatever we could find on the shitty hotel TV.

when we finally went to sleep, i closed my eyes and forced away the thoughts that maybe, just maybe, nicholas could be right.

the next morning, nicholas' 6 am alarm woke the both of us up. we had to be up early the travel the hour to the next city, and it took multiple hours to set up the stage and instruments for the show. i woke up, doing my usual morning routine and pushing away the thoughts of noah that suddenly wanted to flood through my mind. i grabbed my suitcase and nicholas and i walked out to the elevator, heading to the tour bus when we got to the lobby.

the tour bus wasn't the fanciest thing in the world, but it was still pretty damn nice. and of course, being in a bus full of boys who also happened to be stoners, the familiar scent of weed flooded my senses when i walked onto the bus. i put my suitcase on my bunk (which of course just so happened to be below noah's for some god forsaken reason), before sitting down on one of the couches in the back area in front of nick and jolly, and beside noah.

even though i hated him, i always ended up gravitating towards him in any situation. when i was scared or upset, i'd be next to him. we had an odd relationship for two people who claimed they hated each other's guts. on multiple occasions, we had been caught cuddling in our bunks or on the couch. we had these brief moments where every other feeling faded away, leaving just the two of us to do whatever we wanted. we were never sexually active with each other, but there would be an occasional make out session or peck on the lips while we were cuddling. if i was in trouble, i would immediately go to noah or nicholas. they were like my safe places. somewhere i could go to hide away from the world. and just as soon as it began, it ended. we would immediately go back to fighting and hating each other within the next hour. it was a rollercoaster, but it's what we had gotten used to over the years.

nick passed the joint to me and i took a couple hits before passing it to noah, who unusually declined. "woah, you good man?" jolly asked.

noah hummed. "yeah, just thinking. not really in the mood." he said, leaned back against the couch with his hands laced together in his lap. he looked focused, like he was thinking really hard about something. i'd make sure to ask him about it later.

soon, we arrived at the arena. it was empty, save for a few stage workers and other people wandering around. i unpacked my camera backstage, turning it on and checking all the settings as i walked backstage and towards my area in the front of the barriers, humming to myself. i wasn't paying much attention until i collided with something, falling backwards with some sort of liquid all over me and my camera on the ground.

i cursed, not paying any mind to the person who bumped into me and grabbing my camera. it was covered in coffee and the lens was broken. completely unusable. it was completely fried and wouldn't even turn on. "fuck!" i yelled, running my hands through my hair. no camera meant no pictures. no pictures meant a very, very pissed off noah.

"what the hell happened?" a voice spoke, snatching away my attention.

[cherryrikis]

BETTER LUCK TOMORROW - two ! case file

pairing : nishimura riki x reader

synopsis : after being in the wrong place at the wrong time, you (as well as your friends), were framed for the death of your brother and disappearance of your boyfriend. you all had no hope. no job, no money, none of you were even allowed to graduate. at least, until a stubborn kid on a dance scholarship suddenly acts as your savior, riki helps clear your name all for the sake of a school project.

this episode contains the following : 0.7k wc, statistics of ppl going missing but idk if it’s accurate, talking about bodies (once), mention of killing/death

previous | masterlist | next

[2024.9.30 - y.j choi / m.j kim interview : contacts #3 & #4]

contacted list : s.y kwon (1), j.y sim (2), y.j choi (3), m.j kim (4)

RIKI : are you okay with this interview being recorded and transcribed, especially in the event of these audio clips possibly being publicized?

YEONJUN : yes, i don’t mind.

MINJAE : [nods]

JUNGWON : minjae, sir. we’re gonna need you to verbally agree into the mic.

MINJAE : yeah. i’m fine with it.

RIKI : how did you feel about being assigned to the lee-park case?

YEONJUN : it was kind of a big break for me. if i solved, or, partook in solving this case, i would’ve been given better assignments and more opportunities. i kinda had a bad reputation for accidentally letting minor criminals go, but this really got the department to trust me more. i just wanted the respect, that’s all.

RIKI : minjae?

MINJAE : obviously because of the strike at the city hospital, they were short on paramedics. officers have to know medical basics, so we had a lot of our team volunteering at the ED. i was supposed to be one of them. but then your friend killed your other two friends, and we were so short staffed that they gave this crazy case to the departments rookies. i wanted no part in this, but i did feel satisfied after lee was brought down.

YEONJUN : [speaking to minjae] [inaudible]

MINJAE : [speaking to yeonjun] [quietly] don’t tell me to leave high school drama in the past. you didn’t even know why [inaudible] — between me and that group.

JUNGWON : can we bring the discussion back into the group, please?

MINJAE : i’m done here. don’t think i’m not watching you two, especially since you’re still going to school with my sister.

MINJAE : [he gets up and leaves the room]

JUNGWON : yeonjun, are you still available to answer more questions?

YEONJUN : of course, but just a few. we’re supposed to be expecting a big call in about an hour. sorry about minjae by the way. i know he has something against your friends, but im not sure what he has against you two specifically.

RIKI : all good. but, this is something i’ve been meaning to ask. why was jay’s body never found?

YEONJUN : yeah, uh.. the thing about that. jay park was a very unique case. heeseung lee, he was found dead within the first two weeks. only 3% of people stay missing for over a week, with much less chances of being found dead. that alone already had the department spooked. but jay.. 1% of people stay missing for over a month. yet jay was never found. ever.

YEONJUN : over a year after we first received the call, we had to legally declare him as dead. we just didn’t have the resources to keep looking for him. you know how bad crime is in los angeles.. but, i tried. he was so young, i wanted to keep looking. but the department couldn’t afford to.

RIKI : i’ll have to ask you about that part off the record. but, just one last question while i still have you. i notice you kept checking your walkie. why was heeseung’s cause of death never publicized?

YEONJUN : i.. i don’t..

YEONJUN : [sudden distinct noise via walkie talkie, calling his name]

YEONJUN : ah shit. this is the call we’ve been waiting for. i’m really sorry about that last question, but i’ll try to get back to you on that! [he reassures before rushing out the room]

JUNGWON : alone again.

RIKI : wait. do you remember the rules the teacher gave us?

JUNGWON : yeah, why?

RIKI : and you know how she said under no circumstances should we contact any families directly involved?

JUNGWON : you can’t be serious, riki. we are not talking to yn. i don’t get why you’re so obsessed with proving her innocent.

RIKI : because there’s no way it was her. i know yn, she couldn’t even kill a spider. you really think she’d kill her own brother and boyfriend? she loved jay and you know it.

JUNGWON : it’s always the ones you least expect it to be, you know how it is. maybe we didn’t know her as well as we thought.

RIKI : you may not want to talk to her, but i do and will. if you don’t want to help me then so be it. but when i’m done with her, i’ll contact sunghoon —

[ 8:23 of 8:23 recording ]

taglist ! @jiiyen @prettiestgirlontheplanet @hannicorpse @wonsboo @murazbae @stilesks @soobinbunnie5 @blvengene @r1kification @gyuvision @goldenmellow @ariluvssssss100 @who-tf-soddhi @mmurazz @jaemified @strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @heartheejake @hoonsdrnkdzd @wonkixo @yangjungwonnie @tya0