#because it's hard to weed out the bad apples when they actually do good work

[writer-and-artist27]

When the oldest coworker I have outside of my boss commented (mid-apology to me) today that most of the people he've worked with from my generation fall into either "totally humble" or "totally think they know everything" to the point of causing drama, I can't deny the claim.

Because at this point in my life, I've encountered the latter category 4 times now. And three of those times were from women my age.

It's those kinds of memories - dealing with bossy attitudes and toxic targeted language because they all thought they knew better than even the supervisors in the room - that makes growing up with the Internet feel like a double-edged sword.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

My blog is generally pretty lighthearted and I stick to reblogging art and fic and fun stuff, but you know what. I feel like I need to say this.

I am a trans teen in the US. I'm seventeen, so too young to have voted. I'm terrified for my life right now. I usually post about college but I'm actually concurrently enrolled in high school still and the kid who sits behind me in first period government is a massive Trump fanboy. I'm going to have to go to high school Monday and talk about the election. I'm going to have to hear my deadname called and hear people in my super conservative high school talk about how happy they are Trump won. Everything is terrifying. I walk outside of my house and I'm scared I'll be shot. Several months ago I promised that I'd kill myself if that bastard won.

He did and I'm still here.

I'm not thriving. I'm not living my best life. I'm barely living. But I'm surviving. I'm coping. I'm trying my goddamned best. It's hard. I want so bad to just go and take as much medication as I can and slit my wrist for good measure and pass away in my sleep. But I'm still here. And I will be here.

I am in so much pain. But I'm living on spite and determination and everything I can scrape together. I know I need support and those around me need support. So consider this a support masterpost.

Support:

First thing you should see if you're a trans person in the US.

Here's a link to the Trevor Project and here's a link to their suicide hotline page. They've already saved my life once before. Please note - they recommend calling if you need immediate support. Donate if you can, please.

This post is both a suicide hotline masterlist and a post mentioning how something feels deeply wrong here with this election.

On the topic of something being wrong, sign this petition. I'm only seventeen but I did this and it might not feel like much but if we couldn't shoot that bastard (I am not pro-gun but I am when it comes to him) then we'll do the next best thing. Here's the link to the petition itself. Make sure to check the post every once in a while - the original petition got taken down and this is important.

I follow a lot of gimmick blogs, so I got to see this post encouraging us to be loud. Because we should be. Because if we die they've won and my mom didn't smoke weed on the steps of the state capital of Colorado to legalize it just so her son could roll over and die.

Here is the Tumblr Hot Beverage Masterpost, as I've taken to calling it. My personal favorites are the London Fog in the replies, earl grey with milk, honey, and vanilla (in the tags), and some additions from me are hot chocolate with peppermint melted into it, earl grey with lavender, caramel apple tea, and really anything else you can think of. Trust me. This post works better than you think.

Read this post if you haven't seen it already. It's half poem, half Tumblr being Tumblr, all wonderful to read.

Things I just like to see:

PM Seymour and Bettina Levy both have shown their support for everyone struggling right now. It might not be much, but I still really appreciate it and seeing support can really help.

The cat with the kind and reassuring face. No other context.

Four panel comic of hope. Because you're more than enough.

Can't find the post where I found this but this is a link to a virtual toy where you can make your own galaxy.

Please. Eat something. Drink a hot beverage. Draw, write, read, knit, sew, sculpt, bake, do something that helps. Reach out to friends, even if they're online friends. Talk to someone you trust. Make vent art. Write vent fics. It doesn't matter what you do as long as it helps.

Do not roll over and die. Live. Live on spite. Live on determination. Live on shitposts and live on heartfelt stories like this one. If you have anything to add to this post please do. Add more resources. Add more love to this post. I know I'm just a guy on the internet saying shit, but I still care about everyone who sees this post.

[kindheart525]

Do you have any really silly mane six headcanons

Twilight Sparkle once smoked weed during her equivalent of college and to this day is terrified that Celestia will find out (Celestia already knows)

Twilight has very little knowledge of memes and her friends frequently have to explain new slang to her before she causes political scandals (“no Twilight ‘kys’ does not mean ‘keep yourself safe’”)

Much like a real horse, Twilight often falls asleep standing up during her late-night stress & study sessions. Spike has had to wake her up and tell her to go to bed numerous times

Twilight was that kid who reminded her teachers there was homework when they forgot. Her classmates didn’t really like her for that

Her love life is very…active lol, including when she’s in a stable and committed relationship (like active within that relationship not as a serial cheater). She loves learning new techniques if you catch my drift

Fluttershy is surprisingly confident when she’s attracted to someone, and when she’s in a committed relationship she has a lot of fun facts about animal mating patterns to share with them for…no particular reason

Unlike Twilight, Flutters is surprisingly well-versed in memes because she’s learned a lot from Discord (and also Treehugger). She doesn’t really understand the humor in all of them but she’s aware of them

(In a universe where FlutterCord is canon) She had to absolutely fight for her life in the Mane 6 meetups when she told her friends she was dating/crushing on him

Daring Do eventually loses popularity, partly because so many of her books involve actual artifact theft and social attitudes have changed, and partly because ponies just moved on to newer book series. Rainbow Dash still remains her biggest die-hard fan even when she looks pathetic doing so

Rainbow Dash acts like a big baby every time Tank hibernates for the rest of her life (he outlives her) but after the first few years it’s kind of silly

This isn’t an idea I came up with but I really like all the jokes about RD writing really bad fanfiction, and it’s a headcanon I subscribe to

(Mostly a joke because I do ship her with mares outside of my next gens) Rainbow Dash is straight but has a lot of mares asking her out because of her mane, and it’s hard to get stallions because they also think she’s gay. She also has a hard time relating to her friends who all like mares

RD doesn’t take good care of her hooves because she flies all the time and forgets to trim them due to not walking very much. Because of this, they look funky and overgrown and her friends kind of clown on her for it

When she’s older, Rainbow Dash wrecks some of her joints trying to do stunts that she did when she was younger (like carrying her “little” sister). She has the worst midlife crisis out of all her friends

When Rarity was a filly, she used to create the most elaborate and dramatic plotlines with her dolls that easily measured up to any soap opera, with betrayals, love triangles, custody battles, the whole works

She enjoys listening to soul-crushingly sad music (like Marina’s discography) during her ice cream-crying sessions, in the process roleplaying a life much more dysfunctional than she has because it helps her cope with her actual problems. Also listens to that music in a good mood if she needs to be inspired for a certain fashion piece

She overstocks her supplies to a sometimes comical extent, like she has 400 refills for her bedazzler machine. How does she have room for all that stuff? A lady never reveals her secrets, darling✨

Applejack loves singing country songs like “Thank God I’m A Country Colt” and “International Harvester” at the top of her lungs, they literally never fail to get her hyped up

(In a human context, ignoring Equestria Girls) it took her awhile to learn that Apple Bloom had TikTok and other social media accounts because she only uses Facebook on her clunky home computer

AJ is incapable of enjoying any kind of sitcom because she’s always poking holes in the plot. Her least favorite storylines are the “caught in a lie” and general miscommunication tropes

She also can’t watch well-written, dramatic tv shows either if any of the characters behave dishonestly (such as Breaking Bad)

Pinkie and Cheese once performed “Amish Paradise” for her parents and sisters (even in universes where they aren’t a couple). Reactions were VERY mixed

Also some of my “how they explain the birds and the bees to their kids” headcanons for my next gens are pretty funny

Fluttershy is really good at explaining the whole life cycle (including reproduction and death) because taking care of so many animals means she’s seen it all. Nothing squicks her out anymore. She explains things matter-of-factly but gently as she guides her little ones through various examples involving her animals.

Twilight would do a good job and be comfortable with it but she would also go overboard, giving a college-level lecture about the full reproductive process when her 10 year old daughter only wanted to know what going into heat meant. Twi’s partner calls Fluttershy in to help for the kid’s sake.

Rarity buys her daughter the pony equivalent of those Care & Keeping of You books (and her son gets the male equivalent of those books). She uses those books to bond with her kids over “becoming a mare/stallion.”

Applejack is very overprotective of Apple Bloom and probably procrastinated on giving her “the talk” only to find out that AB already learned from the other CMC (especially Scoot “left completely unsupervised 24/7” aloo /hj). A similar deal would probably happen with her own kids as well unless her partner is better about it. Even though, years before, Granny Smith was very straight with AJ like “ya wanna know how our new batch of chicks was made?”

Pinkie isn’t uncomfortable with the talk at all, except her explanation gets so convoluted and off topic that her kids go off to ask someone else.

Rainbow Dash says “go ask your father”

[ryanscabinlife]

I can't believe it's been a month since I posted the May garden update. A lot of things has happened. Loads of wins and also plenty of failures. I guess I'll start with the progress of the ones I featured last month.

The hardneck garlic that overwintered are just about ready to be harvested. According to online sources, garlics can be harvested about a month after the scapes emerges. I was delighted to see the scapes as I was taking pics this morning. Can't wait to collect and make something out of them.

Oh tomatoes. I talked about how our weather has been awful many of times on this blog. After the dry May, they started showing some damaged on their leaves, and since they barely saw the sun this month, they did not grow very much. I panicked so I bought 30 more roma seedlings and 6 more cherry tomatoes. After a few days of sun, all of them are bouncing back to life and looking very healthy. Now I'm stuck with 60 romas and 12 cherries. Not the worst problem to have, really. All corners of the garden have tomatoes planted in them.

The beds where the trellis is sitting is now filled with plants. All of the beans and peas are looking great. The snow peas are about 4 ft tall and there's plenty of beans on the ground. The luffa that I was so excited about, none of them showed up. I bought a packet of 10 seeds for a whopping $4.99 and only 1 germinated. I'm currently babying it and waiting for the perfect time to transplant it. The cucumber is the other one I'm totally having hard time with. So far I've already used up the whole packet, and so far I have seen none. I planted the last 6 seeds yesterday but I'm not holding my breath. We have a neighbour (I'm using the word neighbour very loosely here, they're about 5km from us) who have a small road-side stand and in the summer they sell cucumbers. I think I'm just gonna have to rely on them for cucumbers.

The potatoes (all 30ft row) are doing extremely well. Some of them suffered from light frost and their early leaves died but they all bounced back. I think next year, I'll plant them even earlier.

It looks like the apple or crabapple (I still don't know) tree had a couple of successful pollinations. I think the reason for the lack of blooms is because the tree has been neglected and unkept for a long time. I've already been researching and watching a ton of videos on how to properly prune apple trees so I can prune it next spring in hopes that it will put out more blooms next year.

The border is looking a bit sad. Something to be expected on the first year due to the fact that most of the plants I have in it are perennials. I think they'll live though, I can only hope that they come out stronger next year. Looking closely, the wildflowers that I broadcasted are out. I see hundreds of them. I've added two smaller beds, I'm hoping to fill them up with the annual seedlings I'm currently growing. No progress at all on the potted garden in the background.

The brassicas are my favourites but also the main cause of my headaches. Thank god I have seeded a good amount of extras because these bitches have plethora of enemies! The first to attack was slugs. They destroyed a handful of seedlings (100% my fault coz I decided to plant them too young). I battled this with non-stop weeding and slug hunting. So far it's been working, I just go in early in the morning, remove all of the slugs and the weeds they hide into. Then the rabbits. I did not plan to build a fence this year but after the rabbit attack that ate almost half of the original plants, I decided to build a fence around the garden. Again, so far it's working. Then just when they start actually growing, the damn flea beetles happened. Yesterday, I ordered some food grade diatomaceous earth. I'm aware that it will kill all of the insects it will come across with whether they're good or bad but I guess I'll just have to be careful not to put it on any of the flowering crops so it doesn't kill the pollinators. Next year, to avoid using such measure, I plan to install netting on all of the leafy veggies. I don't wanna do that now because it will just trap in the ones I already have in.

Speaking of flea beetles and brassicas, these godforsaken creatures killed all of the arugulas and boy choy I planted at the end of April. I then replanted them a couple of weeks ago and lo and behold, all of them are damaged again. I'm leaving them on the bed for now to hopefully serve as food for the pests and in hopes that I'll be able to trap and kill them once the diatomaceous earth arrives. I'll try to grow them again in the fall when the temperature starts going down with netting. But for now, I planted some of my extra tomatoes to keep this spot occupied.

To my surprise, the asparagus are doing exceedingly well. Can't wait for 2025 when I can finally harvest some.

I have 3 tomatillos that survived and they're doing well. They're planted with the original cherry tomatoes and celery.

3 weeks ago, I though these celery plants were dead, but they managed to come back.

Peanut, another big failure. I planted a whole row of peanuts parallel to the row of potatoes. 30 ft of it and roughly 40 seeds, 3 germinated, 2 out of those 3 got devoured by slugs. So now I have ONE peanut plant. I scattered few sage and pepper seeds in the area as replacement. Let's see what happens.

After the small radish harvest yesterday, these is what's left. I'm gonna give them a week or so until I pull them all out. In preparation for their departure, I have okras and eggplants growing in between rows. I've already replanted the okra and eggplants a couple of times because slugs and birds keep on eating them. To avoid that, I just covered them with recycled plastic cups as protection for now.

On the same bed as the radish, okra, and eggplants are the softneck garlic. It's more or less an experiment. I was just curious if they actually produce garlic bulbs at the end of growing season. The garlic cloves I used are from Costco. They're not looking too bad.

Next bed over (where I have the failed arugula and bokchoy) are onions. I bought a pack of a hundred bulbs and shoved all of them in this bed. They just started emerging.

Next bed after that (my biggest one) are corn, zucchini, and butternut squash. The corns are doing alright. I dealt with poor germination with both of the squashes and when they show up, birds eats them. Nothing much I could do other than keep replanting seeds and protecting the seedlings with plastic cups. Looks like the ones I have at the moment are gonna make it.

Next bed after that are carrots. I planted these back in April, and this is what they look like now. They sure to take their sweet time to germinate.

25-Jun-2023

[recordsfm]

╰   ☆  ◞ milo manheim / cis man / he/him  ———  no way is that dallon markham? you know they’re TWENTY-SIX YEARS OLD and they’ve been in los angeles for THREE YEARS. they’re chillin’ as the OWNER of BLAZED. oh and they’re notoriously known for being CLOSED OFF but there are some people who have seen them be LOYAL. i heard they’re a part of a BAND called THE WALLETS, yeah they’re a VOCALIST/GUITARIST/BASSIST to be honest they sound a lot like WALLOWS. they’re actually RISING STAR.

PART ONE: STATISTICS. 

basic information:

FULL NAME: Dallon Fable Markham

NICKNAME(S): Dally boy

AGE: 26

DATE OF BIRTH: September 28th 1997

PLACE OF BIRTH: Chicago, Illinois

GENDER: cis man

PRONOUNS: he/him

ORIENTATION: hetrosexual

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, some Spanish,

NEIGHBOURHOOD: Riviera Beach

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: Seaside oasis apartments

family ties:

MOTHER: Angela Anderson Bertuzzi

GRANDMOTHER: Abigail Anderson

FATHER: Brandon Markham Carmen Bertuzzi

SIBLINGS: Violet Bertuzzi, Michaela Bertuzzi (12)

SPOUSE / PARTNER: none

CHILDREN: none

PETS: none

occupational information:

OCCUPATION: Owner/chef at blazed

POSITION: Chef

SKILLSET OR SPECIALISATION:  Cooking, heat tolerance,

NAME OF THEIR ACT: Wallets

SO THEY PLAY INSTRUMENTS? IF SO WHAT?: Guitar and bass

HOW LONG HAVE THEY BEEN A PART OF THE ACT?: 10 years

ARTIST INFLUENCES: The wombats, the 1975, twenty one pilots

CURRENT MONTHLY SPOTIFY/APPLE MUSIC LISTENS ON AVERAGE: 510.2 K

personality:

WESTERN ZODIAC: Libra

CHINESE ZODIAC: Ox

POSITIVE TRAITS: loyal, hard working, comical

NEGATIVE TRAITS: closed off, Independent, stubborn

HOBBIES: Smoking weed, playing around with his guitar, cooking, surfing, having sex

AESTHETICS: fading hickies, empty bottles of jack, grease stained aprons

PART TWO: QUESTIONNAIRE. 

IF YOUR MUSE IS A MUSICIAN:

start at the beginning, who are you and why are you important?

"Uh yeah, my name is Dallon Markham. I play the bass and sing for a band called The Wallets."

how long have you been making music?

"Oh Jesus, uh...", Dallon trailed off as he scratched his beard, trying to do math while currently stoned out of his mind. Fuck. Why did they wanna interview us all separately? What was I doing again? Or right. "Since I was like 18. That's when we really started to do the band seriously. But I was in music lessons ever since I was a kid."

how would you describe the kind of music you make?

"It's pretty much just three kids fucking around with their instruments really."

who are some of your biggest musical influences?

"Definitely Cartel, Peach pit, Jimmy Eat World, and Finch."

what is the first record you ever bought?

"Oh god. My step dad got me take off your pants and jacket, by Blink-182 for my 5th birthday, when he was still just dating my mom. We always were listening to The Rock Show"

what has working in the music industry meant to you thus far in your career?

"As bad as this is gonna sound, it's not really a career to me... It's just a hobby. Something that I do because it's fun and I love it. A career to me is a legacy, and for me, I hope that's my food and culinary career."

what are some stand out moments from your career so far?

"Well touring was pretty cool. But that didn't last very long at all."

how would you describe your style of performance? what makes your shows worth seeing?

There was a grimace that spread across the man's lips, quickly erasing his smile. In that moment, he really wished that Ash was there. Or hell his aunt. Anyone who could feed him lines. "I think we have a good energy", the man thought on his feet. "I try and interact with the crowd as much as possible, and I know Ash does too."

what are you still hoping to achieve in your career?

"Honestly, I'm not wanting much more from my music career. Wallets was something I just did with my cousin. It's fun and all, but it's not my passion anymore." I just use being in a band to get laid really, the man silently added. Knowing more then enough not to let that thought slip past his lips.

what’s next for you?

"Uh well", Dallon paused to think. "My main goal right now is to actually focus on my business. About six months ago I officially opened a food truck called Blazed. We're the only food truck in LA that currently sells cannabis infused food. But we sell regular food too, because there is such thing as too many edibles."

PART TWO: BACKGROUND:

will be added

[glittergutts]

Halloween really snuck up on me. I feel bad I didn't get my kids the perfect costume. Lola's is fine, but Ellie really needed a different jacket than the one she's borrowing from my mom, but it's going to have to work. She seems fine with it, so I guess it's good enough.

I have so much cleaning to do today after the weekend it's crazy. I need to fix my house so I can think straight. Also, I need to get back into homeschool for the week, but we might take the day off workbooks and just do some reading and crafts for Halloween. Because it's only 7:30 and I'm already overwhelmed by the idea of workbooks. Also, so much learning happens outside those workbooks. I really want to capitalize on that today.

I have 2 boxes of Halloween sugar cookies I need to make and bring to my moms tonight. I also bought some apple cider to bring. She's getting pizza for everyone so we'll have dinner there and I thought bringing a drink and some cookies would be nice. I'm trying to put effort into everything I do and it usually pays off.

My house is too cold to convince myself to go work out this morning. But maybe I'll go when the heat actually starts working. I haven't exercised in 3 days. 2 of those were rest because I was sore. Yesterday, I just never made time because we were so busy, and after dinner, I was too tired to clean up, so I definitely wasn't going to be able to work out. I don't want to keep making excuses, though. Nothing will change if I can't change, so whether or not I feel like it, I'm going to get enough exercise today.

I just realized pizza and sugar cookies have gluten, but it's a holiday, and before I started this diet, I knew holidays wouldn't matter. It would be cool if I found something gf to have at home before we go so I can avoid pizza but I did really want a festive cookie so I'm going to have one regardless of what I eat for dinner. Limiting gluten instead of completely cutting it today seems more logical.

The past week of not eating gluten and not drinking alcohol has significantly improved my overall mood and energy. I feel a smidgen slimmer, too, so I'm going to try to keep it up. I also was going to allow myself a drink on holidays, but I don't think I want one today even if Halloween is normally a drinking holiday for me. I'm just going to enjoy my kids and maybe watch a Halloween movie today instead of feeling like I need alcohol to have fun. Alcohol isn't necessarily a problem for me, but I just don't want it in my life anymore.

Next, I'm going to ask my doctor for nicotine patches so I can quit vaping. I'm tired of it. It's expensive and I'm always losing it and getting stressed. I feel like I constantly need to vape, and I hate it. I don't want any type of addiction in my life unless it's coffee, and even that I've been thinking about my over indulgence(mainly sugars). Also, I'm not going to stop smoking weed anytime soon. That's just my thing, and it normally doesn't feel bad or addictive. Or maybe I'm just not ready to think about that yet, idk.

I'm trying really hard to get my health in check because I've neglected myself for so long. It's exhausting to constantly try to do better than I did the day before. There's a version of myself in my head, and she's healthy and happy, and I'm going to make that real for myself. Making diet and lifestyle changes and regular exercise are feeling difficult today but I'm fucking determined to make the changes I want to see in myself.

[avoid-avoidance]

Something I never figured out from Mulan (Disney 1998 animated version) —

Was the in-universe intent of the pole-climbing exercise all along to work with the weights and not against them, as we saw Mulan do? Or was that meant to be not just a “Mulan outshines her fellow recruits” moment, but a “Mulan outshines the entire patriarchy that designed this exercise” moment? Seems like there was a good chance that was left undefined on purpose, as for all his demonstrated shirtless competency in the training montages, we never saw Shang do the pole-climbing until the end of the movie when they need to get into the palace and he already knows Mulan's method.

I could honestly go either way on whether Shang knew about the climbing strategy all along or not (cut for longpost reasons)—

Scenario 1: Shang did not know; the textbook version of the exercise was always meant as a test of pure strength, determination, and perseverance, and the point of giving the rawest of recruits that exercise was a) to hammer home the message that this training is not a walk in the gardens, and b) so even a prodigy or a recruit coming in with some combat training has an exercise they cannot instantly excel at, making sure the guy at Level 3 isn’t resting on his laurels and lording his prowess over his fellow proto-soldiers at Level 1 when the goal is to get them all to Level 10.

Scenario 2: Shang did know all along what the smarter way (Mulan’s way) to climb the pole with the weights was. The above purposes would still apply, plus at some later point in training (if no recruits discovered the trick on their own), he may have demonstrated the “use weights as leverage instead of an additional burden to carry” method, to teach the *secondary* lesson -- that putting in the hard work and sweat isn’t always the only way to solve the problem. This would have been a very *bad* lesson to teach cocky new green recruits, who haven’t fully committed to putting in the hard work and sweat when it *is* necessary! See: Mushu cheating with the apples-and-arrows trick. They might’ve walked away thinking that every problem requiring hard work as a solution could be outmaneuvered with a 'lazier' method.

However, later on (after the total washouts were sent away in disgrace, and maybe after the just-good-enough-for-arrow-fodder had been weeded out by battle), it would’ve been a fantastic Intro to “So You Passed Basic Training And Now You Wanna Be A Creative Special Ops Commando” exercise.

Regardless, whether she actually discovered the new method or not, the timing with which *Mulan alias-Ping* demonstrated the method was absolutely exquisite narratively speaking; she couldn’t have executed a better way to boost the camp’s morale and ingratiate herself with her fellow soldiers if she’d planned it in advance:

With that one act, "he" changed "his" story from "the weak dead weight and easiest bullying target" to "even the least promising of us have a chance to make it";

The shouty jerk Captain had written "him" off, only for "him" to prove him wrong as publicly as possible, to the vicarious satisfaction of everyone else present that the shouty jerk Captain had criticized (i.e., everyone else present);

Offering a chance for other struggling recruits who'd picked on Ping before, out of eagerness to demonstrate that *they* aren't weak like Ping, to pivot to "standing with Ping in solidarity to say 'We're not weak, we're still learning just like everyone else - and the end result can still be a great soldier, look what even *Ping* just did!'";

(Because there HAD to be other bottom-of-the-class recruits who were terrified of also being bullied, and of being sent home in disgrace once Public Loser #1 Ping was eliminated and no longer the conspicuous weakest link);

Up until that point, the recruits may well have lacked any specific rallying point beyond the broader, more generic “let’s kill Huns and save China and our families”. I love to imagine that the arrow scene marked the start of a shift in camp perspective from a defensive “please just don’t let me be called out as a Weak Link and sent home” to “No Weak Links! No one goes home until we all go home!”;

I also love to think maybe Shang, with Ping’s help, pulled off the near-impossible in his very first training assignment and coached ALL the raw recruits into becoming soldiers worthy of the Emperor’s army, like 100% of them. And because he's a perfectionist, he rationalized that to himself as an 'acceptable' result -- and then he only later learned that raw recruit bootcamps like his tend to average at minimum 5-15% hopeless washouts who get sent home, and his feat of pulling them ALL up to scratch was like totally unprecedented and EXTREMELY impressive, to the point where even without the Shan Yu thing, no one who's anyone in the army would ever *only* know him from his father's name again.)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT YOU TALK TO PRESENT TO MOVE TO DIE

A lot of what we try to do in the application process is to weed out the people who are rich enough not to work do anyway. People who do good work often think that whatever they're working on is no good answer. Idealistic undergraduates find their unconsciously preserved child's model of wealth confirmed by eminent writers of the past. Doing something simple at first glance usually never were when you really looked at it. The idea that we're the center of things is difficult to discard. Pick 30 startups that eminent angels have recently invested in, give them each a million dollars each to move, a lot of people probably thought we'd have some working system for micropayments by now. It would have been a junior professor at that age, and he couldn't afford anything more.1

In retrospect, it would arguably be immoral not to. You'd seem a barbarian if you behaved that way today. This is generally true even if competitors get lots of attention. And even more, you need a certain activation energy to start a startup, you get to pick the startups.2 Common Lisp falls short. Historically there have always been certain towns that were centers for certain industries, and if they take it, they'll take it on their terms. Proving your initial plan was mistaken would just get you a bad grade. A mean person can't convince the best people have other options. This is especially true in fields where the rules change. The best place to work, there was no point in making more than you could steal it.3 That's what board control means in practice. This won't work for all startups, but philosophically they're at the opposite end of the humanities.

If we could answer that question it would be a better word. Up till about 1400, China was richer and more technologically advanced than Europe. If Lenin walked around the offices of a company like Apple and think, how could I ever make such a thing? Another view is that a programming language rather than, say, an exercise in denotational semantics or compiler design if and only if hackers like it. They lived in houses full of servants, wore elaborately uncomfortable clothes, and travelled about in carriages drawn by teams of horses which themselves required their own houses and servants. Startups are so hard and emotional that the bonds and emotional and social support that come with friendship outweigh the extra output lost.4 The ones on startups get tested by about 70 people every 6 months. I gave a talk where I said that the average age of the founders of Yahoo, Google, and Microsoft, among others.5

Notes

This was made a Knight of the leading scholars of that. In the Valley, the main reason is that they got to the biggest successes there is some kind of business you should at least notice duplication though, because I realized that without the spur of poverty are only arrows on parts with unexpectedly sharp curves.

We walked with him for the most successful startups get started in New York, but it's also a second factor: startup founders is how much of a promising lead and should in some ways First Round Capital is closer to a later Demo Day, there is the most successful ones tend not to. These two regions were the richest of their growth from earnings.

In technology, so they made, but we are at some of those things that's not art because it isn't critical to do, and so on. In When the same in the definition of property.

Content is information you don't know of a company with benevolent aims is currently undervalued, because it is less than the actual lawsuits rarely happen. We couldn't talk meaningfully about revenues without growing big in people, you need is a list of n things seems particularly collectible because it's a hip flask. The tipping point for me, I mean type I startups. The two 10 minuteses have 3 weeks between them so founders can get cheap plane tickets, but bickering at several hundred dollars an hour most people will give you fifty times as much as people in Bolivia don't want to live a certain level of incivility, the more educated ones usually reply with some equivocation implying that lies believed for a future in which case this behavior at least guesses by pros about where those market caps will end up saying no to science as well.

Which means if the students did well they would probably be interrupted every fifteen minutes with little loss of productivity. I'm going to create events and institutions that bring ambitious people together. The revenue estimate is based on that.

Thanks to Hutch Fishman, Patrick Collison, Jessica Livingston, John Bautista, Sarah Harlin, Trevor Blackwell, and Simon Willison for smelling so good.

[chocominnie]

Desperado — 09 (M) | JJK

Pairing: Badboy!Jungkook X Reader

Summary : A messy situationship at it’s finest. You don’t even know whats headed your way, just even engaging in the slightest within him. See, he has an assignment to complete. A mission granted by his father thats do or die. You just so happen to be a major pawn in that assignment. He didn’t mean to take an interest in you. Surely it was an accident right? Only except. you hold much value in this game that he’ll do anything to complete it. Oblivious is what you are. Poor thing. Poor.. Poor thing.

Genre: Mature/ Mafia!Jungkook

Trailer: xxxxx  preview 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08

Word Count : 7.3k

Warnings : This honestly isn’t for the light hearted and the weak…High angst, usage of drugs, drug mentions, mental illness, switch!jungkook, Brat reader, possible stockholm syndrom, kidnapping, assault, death of side characters, murder, weapons, usage of weapons, masturbation, physical violence, blood, alcohol, weed, unprotected and protected sex, spanking, honestly its a lot of aruging…

Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

TW : Suicide, Body Hanging for display.

Her hair moves so flawlessly and the her breasts spill over the mini triangle bra with each sensual move she makes. The way her waist and body whines against the pole could leave absolutely anyone in a trance.The rhythm of the music blasts in the air and she’s directly on beat to it, not missing anything through the song playing. 

The led lights are dimmed low enough in a red color, but enough for everyone to see. Shes uncaring at the men in the room sizing her up in her designer high waisted thong that hugs her hips very well, showing off her round, plump ass. That was what she wanted, the attention all on her while they throw hundred dollar bills for her. 

“ Who knew someone could get down and dirty like that.”

To no suprise, Jimin, the ladies man but heartbreaker for sure, enters the private room and closing the door beind him. He throws a stack of money towards her, as he was the seemingly late one to the meet-up. 

“ Jungkook is late, he’s never late. What’s taking him so long?” A grumpy Namjoon says, looking down at his apple-watch. It’s half past 10 pm and usually he’s the first one here.

“ He’s probably sucking up to yn-”

The girl turns her head sharply towards the boys, overhearing what they said. She furrows her eyebrows at them, “ Why would he be doing that..”

Taehyung lets out a small groan. “ Because Mr. Lover boy has gotten himself a crush. The worst part is, she’s his target for this mission.”

“ Shut the fuck up. I don’t have a crush on her, i’m just doing my job.” A semi-loud voice roars through the doors. Everyone stops to look at the sudden intruder and to relief it’s him, Jungkook. 

Of course he has to lie about that. He knew for sure he caught himself up with you and the feelings were strong. Though the big bad mafia boy catching feelings for his target is highly uncommon, and Jungkook doesn’t know the consequences.

“ Jungkook..” The girl says, frowning at him with her hand on her hips. He takes a seat on the couch and tilts his head at her to go on. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the young boy. “ You fell for her.. so what about us?”

It isn’t hard to say that he doesn’t have any more feelings left for the girl. She and him both knew what they agreed upon. The pair had history together, sexual to be exact. Romance was hardly there if he were to be honest. She’d began actually working for Won-Shik, under this club they’re in now which is owned by him, a year ago. Jungkook had entered the club once when he was considered a minor, but that was to pass a message along to the girl from his father. He was told to go straight in and straight out. Of course, he did the exact opposite. Sat around looking at all the half naked women that night as the music blared loud. 

It wasn’t until his phone rang and it was Casper telling him to hurry up and come back to the car, is when he finally decided to get up and look for the girl. When he did find her, it was over with for him. The girl was, and still is, stunning. One of the many foreign girls in the club but she’s the one that stood out of all. She wore nothing but a small outfit as she danced on the pole. Her beauty mesmorized Jungkook that night as he watched her dance in awe. Soon enough she came to him showing her her dimply smile and perfect teeth.

He was stunned alright. She knew he looked to be too young for the club so she asked him his age. He told her, and thats when she nearly called security on him until he told her who he was and affiliated with. The message was passed along accordingly to her, she got the memo. Jungkook though, kept coming back to that club and always going to where she was, following her around the club like a lost puppy. She enjoyed his time, as all she did was sit and talk with him and that turned out to not be enough for him. He wanted her, and she insisted that he was too young for her. 

So Jungkook did what any other person would do when feeling rejected, he started to present himself like a true man and mafia boy. The gym was his favorite place after that and he buffed up very well. That jawline of his got sharper and his personality gained more confidence and dominant by the time he turned nineteen. He of course kept going at her, shooting his shot anytime he could and yet kept getting denied. It wasn’t until his nineteenth birthday is when he begged her telling her how bad he wanted her, and that lap dance he kept suggesting months before. Since it was his birthday and he was legal, she gave him what he wanted but that still wasn’t enough for him. He wanted her underneath him bad. The slight age gap between them didn’t phase Jungkook at all. What he wants, is what he gets. 

And he did.

And kept getting it, and getting it, and getting it since then. 

“ Relax baby, I’ll still be coming around you know that.” His voice is smooth, smirking at her.  He wasn’t going to be coming around as much, but he knew that would disappoint her. 

She purses her lips and begins walking towards him and sits directly on his lap, straddling him. Jungkook can’t push her off the way he wants to because it would confirm the crush rumors from the boys about you. So he lets her sit there, uncomfortable as hell for him. 

Namjoon clears his throat to get the rest of the group attention. It’s nearly 11 pm and Crystal has been blowing up his phone ever since he stepped foot in the club. He told her beforehand about the meeting, but she wanted him at her apartment by at least 1 am. 

“ We all know you love yn, but remember who you are Jungkook.” Namjoon says, glaring at the boy who returns the glare back at him. “ Fuck you. Like I said, im just doing my job.”

“ If you were doing your job Jungkook, there’s no way in the hell that it should take you this long. “ Jin retaliates. He knows hes right.

By this time, Jimin had finished preparing seven perfectly rolled blunts filled with the most finest imported weed. He places them onto the tray, taking his own and then passing the tray to Yoongi. Each of the boys take their own until it reaches down to Jungkook who takes his and puts the tray back onto the table. 

“ Enough about her. I was summoned to go over the details for the next seven days. “ Jungkook groans, sparking his blunt and inhaling. He passes it Melanie, who takes it to inhale as well. 

A malicious smile comes upon Yoongi’s face as he exhales the smoke into the already fogged up air. One thing he loves to talk about is torture. One of bangtan’s best walking torture device to be known.

“ Tonight we are starting.. I say you let me go first.” Yoongi pauses, taking a long inhale of his blunt. “ I’m coming for their trade transaction place. Arson, let me burn the bitch down and then fuck around with their father.”

It’s a good idea. Sending a message after burning it down straight to it’s opponent. Fire is Yoongi’s thing, and that’s his signature marking in the Bangtan Boys. The father of the shooter was one of their dealers, until the shooter’s father fucked up by taking money out of bangtan’s cut little by little. The boys knew about it, they waited for the perfect time back then to take action. Of course, giving them a mission to complete.. or so he thought. The mission was a false one. Created by Jungkook to catch him off guard. Jungkook used some of the mafia men on Won-Shik’s side to set up a trade off of drugs, decieving the shooter’s father by thinking they were just setting up a regular mafia trade from another gang. The trade was complete, but their protection was no more. Needless to say, the men didn’t even make it back to their cars. It was a bloodshed war between Jungkook’s assigned men and their men. The point was to send a memo that the Bangtan Boys were coming for them, and coming hard. 

Everynight for two weeks unimaginable signs were sent to their family. Ranging all the way from several gunshot bullets going through their home, to severed heads of previous betrayers of the bangtan boys, sitting right on their porch. By now, all the other gangs in Korea knew not to have any business with them. 

“ Day 2 I want it. I’m going for the mother. That scamming bitch and her precious flower shop? I’m shooting it up. Whoever lives, lives. Whoever dies, dies.” Jimin shrugs, smirking as he leans back in his spot.

“ Day 3, for me I’m sending another message. One of their men is gonna die in my god damn hands. I’ll be sure to take a selfie and send it to the father. The body will lay hanging on that pretty little oak tree in their yard.” Taehyung says. The boys are roar with shock that he’s said that. Normally he doesn’t like touching a dead body, so it’s a change for him.

The boys continue listing off the days and assigned tasks for the rest of the night into the wee early morning. Namjoon left after his, of course going straight to his girls apartment. They don’t judge him, seeing as though the boy really is in love and knows when and how to handle it. He definately doesn’t mix business and his love life together, unlike his other hyung.  Soon enough the banter and socializing ends and it’s time for Yoongi first. 

Night 1

It doesn’t take long for Yoongi to find the place. The empty steets of Seoul have soon faded into just dirt roads with the city left behind. The humming of his porsche echos through the night time air. Yoongi takes one final turn, making sure to pull into the place slowly like a true hunter keeping it’s eye on its prey. It’s not a full house tonight, even better. 

Taking the jug of gasoline out his car, he carries it with ease up to the empty warehouse. The wildlife outside don’t make a noise. As if they know who’s approaching and just shut right up. Forty degrees fahrenheit outside and lastnight’s snowfall piled all around.The darkness outside is haunting, anything could pop out at any second to kill the man. That doesn’t scare him at all. Darkness is always what he crave. Inside and out. 

“ Sir.. do you want us to go in with you?” 

Yoongi stops dead in his tracks. He’d almost forgotten about the back-up men Jungkook ordered for him. It’s not like he needed them anyways, but since Jungkook can’t be there with Yoongi, that was the next best choice. 

Rolling his eyes without turning around,“ No. Wait in your cars. I’ll handle it on my own.”

Just like that. The boys are off like lightening. Yoongi takes one final step towards the two double doors, and begins to pour the gasoline at it’s starting point. Usually, he’d go from the inside out, but seeing as though he wanted them to scurry out fearing for their lives, this is the next option as well. Soon enough, the enire jug is empty and he’s now poured all of it around the outside of the warehouse. Leaves crunch with every step he makes back to the starting point. Part of him hopes they can’t hear him from the outside. It’ll ruin the plans. 

The lighter in his pocket feels so smoothe against his palms as he reaches for it. It’s one of his signature ones with his initials on it. An andrenaline rush runs through his veins as flicks the ignition with his thumb. The flame all bright and orange as he stands there infront of the building. It’s going to be a damn good night.

Without hesitating, Yoongi runs his fingers through his hair and throws the lighter right onto the gasoline puddles. The way the whole ring of fire lights up infront of his eyes makes him laugh hysterically while watching the whole building go into flames. The loud crackling sounds of the now decomposing warehouse jumps him back into reality. 

He heads right towards the big tree next to the right of the warehouse, leaning on it with one foot up against it with his hands crossed. That sinister smile doesn’t leave his face. He enjoys the view of the men from the inside running out as fast as they can. Some falling in the ring of fire in the process. The fire is no match for any human as they try to stop drop and roll. Ha, as if that would work with a 15 foot fire consuming the warehouse. The dead bodies pile up on their own, just burning in the fire over their simple mistakes of falling and thinking they would survive the fire.

Until the golden egg comes out. He’s furious as runs out perfectly, as if he’s been through this, without managing to catch on fire. Yoongi chuckles, leaning off the tree. “ Kang Dong-Woo.”

Usually Yoongi would use the honorfics to people who were much older than him. In this case though, he doesn’t deserve honorifics. 

“ Min Yoongi.” He says, harshness laced within his voice. Dongwoo frowns when nearing the man. He knows what Yoongi is capable of, and that’s what sets his fight for flight into action.

“ Let’s get straight to it. Your daughter is after our leader. She seems to be doing the dirty work for you yeah? Did you not train her enough? Of course you know she wont be able to live after this right?”

Dongwoo laughs right into Yoongi’s face as if he was joking. It angers Yoongi, so he grabs Dongwoo by the shirt and drags the man over to the fire where he kicks the back of his legs to where he’s kneeling inches away from it. 

“ I don’t think this is a laughing matter, Dongwoo.” He growls, tightening his grip around Dongwoo’s arms that are behind his back. “ You want to die?”

“ She’s gonna fuck you all over.” He growls.” You may think she’s not capable of finishing off you guys one by one, but she is. I raised and trained her since a kid. She’s stronger with more energy than me. She’ll kill you all when you least expect it.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes at him.” The dumb bitch can’t even shoot right. Going for someone else knowing Jungkook would save them is an ameteur move. Should’ve went straight for his damn head.”

“ I’ll make sure she’ll bring you guys hell Min Yoongi. All of you. Tell that shit to Jungkook and his daddy for me alright?” He mocks, laughing again at the boy to taunt him.

Yoongi doesn’t care for it. He’s had enough of this foolish talk. With one swift move he kicks the man’s back making him fall down to the left side, away from the fire. He’s lost it. He’s totally lost it at this point and there is no going back. Kick after kick after kick, he doesn’t stop. No. Not until the Dongwoo is sure to cough up blood. The crimson liquid poors from his mouth as he lays there. No remorse is felt.

Besides, the bastard bitch needed to get the message. Consider it message recieved. 

Night 2

The flower shop is full, but not full to its entirety. There's tons of different bouquets and arrangements set around the pretty shop, from what he can see from the outside. It’s almost closing time, an hour left. Jimin’s fingertips grip on the steering wheel, anxious but patient to make his move. He’s running off of pure adrenaline and 2 cans of monster that are crushed and sitting in the passenger seat. Waiting isn’t his forte and he’d honestly like to get this show on the road now.

The moon is out and shining bright tonight. A sigh escapes his lips when he glances again at the shop. The only reason he’s not done it yet is due to the fact that there is a child and his mother inside. Rule number 2 of Bangtan, injure no child. The price to pay if you were to break the rule? Simply it would cost you your own damn life.

As if time would of went any slower for the boy, the child and his mother finally made their transaction and made it out of the store, heading across the street to continue their journey of shopping. It’s go time.

He knew to come prepared with his bulletproof vest and full face ski mask, long Sleeve black shirt to cover all the markings he has and also the two tattoos on each of his arms. He knew that the little lady wouldn’t be so dumb to not carry, or at-least have someone inside that would be her undercover security. Considering who her husband is, there’s no way she won’t be protected.

Oh how innocent the people look to not know what’s coming next. Jimin loads his Glock 19 with golden bullets that have Bangtan Boys initials and symbols on it just before pulling his mask down and getting out the car. He makes sure to signal his back-up men to create a distraction so he could make his entrance. Sure enough, a loud boom in the near distance of what sounds like some type of construction falling, echos loudly. It turns heads from all around to look where the sound came from, making it easy for Jimin to slide into the flower-shop.

Not a sound made by him. He draws his gun and pulls the safety off the trigger, then cocks it. Eyes are all on him as his eyes shift around the room looking for his target. There she is, eyes wide in the middle of a transaction for two middle aged couple. His eyes set into hers, lowly smiling and pointing it at her. The way everyone frantically screams and cries out doesn’t phase Jimin, no. It just encourages him even more as he starts firing shots mid air, shooting any and every person in sight for the hell of it. Bodies drop to the ground, and the bloodbath begins.

Jimin doesn’t hesitate to step over everybody, eyes still set on his target. The middle aged couple’s shrieks were cut short by their bodies dropping to the ground with three shots each to their hearts.

“ Park J-” He cuts her crying off with a finger to his lips, daring her to say his name in public. She gets the memo. “ I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The barrel is pressed against her temple as she trembles with fear. He cocks his head to the side, smiling at her when he taps the gun against her head harshly, repeatedly. “ You know why I’m here.”

“ You kill me and she will murder you all.”

Jimin chuckles, “ That’s what you guys think. We don’t have time for your gimmicks. It was you guys who stole money from us. Why did you think you’d still be protected from the law from us? Getting your daughter to go for the leader first is dumb, like the rest of you.”

“ We almost went to prison for you guys, remember that? We needed that cut money from you guys to pay off our legal fees. Thats why we stole. We completed your dirty work while trying to pay off the fees, its the least you guys could of did as a reward.”

“ That’s not how it would’ve worked. You fucked up. All of you.”

With two shots to the leg, she falls into Jimins arms. He rolls his eyes and throws his body off of him and onto the floor. It’s going to be a headache trying to explain to the dry cleaners why there is blood stains on his designer ripped jeans.

Night 3

It was too easy, way too easy. It took nothing to lure that man right into Taehyung’s trap. Nothing but a simple few slick comments made to him for him to get a riled up at the wrong person. Taehyung had spotted the man prior heading into the park with a small duffle bag. He assumed it was for a night trade off for some other person who had delivered drugs for him. Nontheless, it was merely too easy to pose as the alleged person who completed the mission. 

A rookie. That guy must’ve been a rookie. 

When the money was handed off to Taehyung, he tossed it to the side and struck the man down. The two did fight on the concrete floor for a bit but the man was no match for Taehyung’s quick moves. Taehyung’s pocket knife dances around the man’s throat as his body is pinned to the ground. 

“ Rookie mistake not verifying if I’m the real one.” He chuckles, pressing the blade against the mans neck. The man pleads for his life but it’s no use. Message must be sent, that it’s no way you’ll fuck around with Bangtan and escape.

“ You know, I would’ve trained you more than Dongwoo. Letting the weakest link go run an errand? Ha. Your boss set you up for that one.” 

Although the man is merely innocent, it doesn’t stop Taehyung from slicing into the man’s neck. A blood curdling scream comes out, but soon hushed over as his will of breathing and screaming is cut. It’s music to Tae’s ears. 

The body is transfered per request of Taehyung to his back-up men. It’s not like him to touch a bloody dead body. So they take him into the back of their car and follow Taehyung to the residential house of the shooter. Nothing more than 10 minutes away. 

The lights are cut off in the neighborhood. Not a sound made other than the two cars coming down the street. Everyone seems to be at peace and quiet in their homes. Sleeping to say the least. Upon arrival, Taehyung parks his car right infront of the house. The back-up men drag the bloody body out the car and onto their lawn, placing it right under the oak tree. 

Taehyung takes the rope be brought along with him, and begins to tie multiple knots around a sturdy branch from the tree. When done, he wraps some of the rope around the dead boy’s neck, tying it into a slipknot and hoists him up high into the air. 

The body dangles from the tree like a flag waving in the sky proud and high. He signals for the boys that the assignment is done and that they’re free to leave. Taehyung though, he just sits back in admiration of his work. It’s been a while sinice he felt this way. So he stands there soaking it all in. 

Message recieved. 

Since it’s been three entire days of hell, Jungkook knew his day will be approaching faster than ever. If only it could get here faster though. Truth is, Won-Shik isn’t too happy about Jungkook’s plan still not being complete. At this point, the father is going against him any chance he gets to just get this over with. 

Luckily, tonight he’d be able to meet with his father again with some good news. It hasn’t been brought to his attention yet about your father being in Taiwan. With the technology of Won-Shik’s men, your father could be brought here within 12 hours tops. 

“ Father.” Jungkook says, entering his office doors. The boy fixes his leather jacket upon entering and places his hands back into his pockets. “ I have news.”

Won-Shik is one to not play around with. Interupting his office time is a big, big deal. One is to not enter without it being urgency. That rule still applies to the heir of the company. “ It better be damn good because your plan isn’t getting anywhere Jeon Jungkook.”

Won-Shik takes his glasses off and sets them to the side on his desk. Its full of papers and photos of himself and Jungkook when he was a child. His favorite one right in the middle, where Jungkook had just ate some cherry flavored ice cream and his lips were all red as he smiled for the camera showing his two front teeth. It reminded him of when Jungkook was easier to manage rather as to now where he’s a damn menace.

“ Taiwan. Her father is in Taiwan. I don’t think it’s Taipei though.. he’s hiding so a city wouldn’t be ideal. I say search the mountains first, then the city.”

Bringing this proposal to the table meant that Jungkook wanted to atleast gain his father’s trust back. Hell, he wanted all this to be over with by now because you were driving him crazy to the point where he’s beginning to actually forget who the hell he was and why he was assigned this mission. The plan was not to fall, but to complete. He’d be lying if he wasn’t knee deep in love with you right now. It all comes down to him protecting you from his father at this point. 

“ So your little plan is suddenly working huh.. still doesn’t mean she gets to run free Jungkook.” He says, smirking at the boy to challange him. Jungkook knew that. Once it’s proven that your father is the snitch, all of the family dies.

You’re innocent. Too innocent to know that or to be even tangled in that mafia mess of his. Part of him wishes he never met you and never had been assigned this mission. Then everything would be so damn different and emotions wouldn’t be caught up in this. From the moment he met you, he knew it would be hard. You have always held a special part in his heart. Only because you acted just like his mother. Sweet, but sassy and it hurt him a lot on how you remind him of her. You even word your words just like her, even when upset. Everything about you, is just like her. 

It was hard to not get attached to wanting to get to know you more. Somehow he thought that if he got to know you, he’d somehow fill that hole inside him of his mother’s disappearance. As if you were going to be his new replica as you would be the one to put a band-aid on that hole to patch it up. 

Here you are, not knowing you could die any moment and it will all be thanks to Jeon Jungkook, who couldn’t save you fast enough. 

“ I know. But she’s innocent. She doesn’t even know her dad worked with us. I swear she doesn’t.”  Jungkook bites his lip in hopes that there could be someway to save you by the hands of your father.

 “ I dont care!” He roars, jumping out his seat. Jungkook flinches, backing up a bit from the sudden outburst. “ You know not to mix business and pleasure. You reap what you sew. You get to pay the consequences.”

Jungkook knew that though. 

“ Father-”

“ Nothing more. I’ll have my team start the search right now. You on the other hand, get you god-damn shit together Jungkook. You’re the heir, not a damn lover-boy. Got it?”

It is no use of arguing with him. Jungkook looks down at the ground and nods his head yes just before Won-Shik dismisses him. It’s going to hurt. Seeing you dead. He hopes for a miracle can happen, that your father will not be the snitch. That you and him could live happily ever after. There will no be any happily ever after about this situation though. One will die. Just a matter of who it will be. 

The vibrating sensation in his pocket snaps him out of his trance. An incoming call from Namjoon. It’s alarming since today is Namjoon’s day of hell, and only one thing could be happening right now if he’s calling for Jungkook. 

There’s been a mistake.

“ What is it Namjoon.” 

“ She fucking outsmarted me. The bitch caught on to where my location would be for the next kill. I don’t know where the fuck she is Jungkook.. this is bad.”

Jungkook sighs heavily, closing his eyes while letting out strings of curses come from his mouth. Shit couldn’t get possibly worse than this right now. Namjoon said he’d wanted to go straight for the killer and bust her up a bit. Give her some words and a branding on her. He had wanted to do it with a knife, carving the initals of Bangtan Boys into her upper hip. Namjoon had zero problem tracking her next location down, as he had been keeping an eye on her all day. To him, it seemed as if she would be heading to an orchestra shop in the city. Every step she took, Namjoon took it too. 

Until she rounded the corner to go inside the shop and she wasn’t there. There wasn’t any outlet. The shop was on a dead end street surrounded by other shops that they both had passed. There was no way she didn’t go back, he would of saw it. He saw her go into the store, so she had to be there right?

Wrong. You see she knew all this time that Namjoon was followering her while in disguise. The orchestra shop where she led him to, she knew the owner. They were good friends. She had spoken to him asking if that she could use his upstairs office to read over some of the newest edition of music pieces for her to practice. He obliged, and she made up there in time before Namjoon came inside.

Up there, she’d be lying if she wasn’t scared to death. All this week the boys had definately given her hell. Each day with zero remorse. It was taking a toll on her for sure. Taking up this assignment by herself wasn’t something easy but she wanted to prove to him that she can be just like him. That she wanted to work with him too to take down Bangtan for decieving them and leaving them in the dust. 

She can’t do it. The boys are to expierenced for her. It’s a bad mistake that she cannot come back from. You see, she thought it would be easy to befriend you and become close to you after you’d laid eyes upon Jungkook your first day here. She knew you’d soon fall for him, like any other girl did, and that would be her easy acess to him from you. It was all planned beforehand. To be quiet and observe you and your moves with him. In her mind, Jungkook needed to die first. The boys can’t function all that well without him, so that would be the weak spot to take advantage of if he would’ve died when she knew he’d take the bullet for you. She coudn’t shoot him first, it’d be too straightforward and blunt. 

It was going all well. Deep in the inside she was jealous of you as well. Sungmin had been her crush for years, they even almost dated. Until you came along and he left her in the dust for you. Sungmin is everything she wanted in a boy, but you took that away from her. Her chances to date him ruined by you. It hurt everyday to see him head over heels in love with you, when that was just her at one point before you came along. Not only that, but she seen the way you play with Sungmin’s emotions. It made her upset that you do that. Sungmin’s love is a drug, whether it be friendship love or romantic, nobody can get enough of it. 

All this stressed her out to her max. Her family being hurt because of her, her mom unable to walk for the next few weeks is all because of her. Only cause she cannot complete this task she brought onto herself. As if being in danger because of Won-Shik and Bangtan wasn’t enough beforehand, she just made things worse all in all. There is no way out of this for her and her family. So it’s time to just accept it and say goodbye to it all and start a new life. 

“ I’ll find her. You wait at the base and I’ll report back to you guys after I find her. When I do, you will come and finish your damn task Namjoon. Do you hear me?” Jungkook’s beyond pissed at this point. If it wasn’t for him, the boys would be lost as fuck without him.

He shoots Casper a text, letting him know that he is to follow him closely as he searches for her. To his luck, Casper was already outside his apartment building in his car. Not long after he pops those contacts in and changes his outfit again, he’s cruising the streets of Seoul in his midnight purple lamborghini. 

The pain in his shoulder throbs with each turn he has to make with the wheel of his car. A little pain medicine would of helped beforehand, but rushing to get this shit over with was more important. This bitch definately has it coming. It’s been taking Jungkook these past few days to not just up and kill her. No that would just be too easy. Torture and marinating her to lose her shit at the last minute is something so satisfying to him. 

The streets of Seoul soon end behind him and the Mappo Bridge comes into view. It had been an a whole hour searching around the areas of where she could’ve been, including where she was last seen. No sights of her at all. She’s good at this for sure. Text messages are sent back and forth between the boys and Jungkook. They’re all on edge, tired, and frustrated at this chasing game that they’re all playing.

He’d almost missed it. The body walking alongside the side-walk of the bridge with their head hanging low and hoodie on. It’s the hoodie of his school, but most importantly it has their class graduation year on it. It has to be her. Jungkook flashes his hazard lights on, letting Casper know to pull over with him. 

It’s now or never.

After sending the text to Namjoon, he’s out the car and jogging towards the suspect. Height, body type, and shoes match the alleged identity. It seems she’s too into something to notice the extra footsteps behind her. He can’t do anything to her though, it’s not his night. 

“ Kang Minlee.”

She stops dead in her tracks as if a ghost had called her name. Frozen, she stands there contemplating on running or staying. If she runs, she’s dead. If she stays, shes dead. 

“ You think..” He pauses, grabbing her arm and turning her around to face him. Her face is red from crying and her glasses all fogged up from underneath her mask. For a split second, Jungkook does feel regret. 

Killing a classmate of his wasn’t something he’d ideally let happen. But it’s far too late to not have her killed off. “ You think that running away is the best option?”

Minlee trembles underneath his grip, “ I made a mistake. Please just let me go. Let me and my family go and we’ll leave you alone forever.” She breaks down into tears, placing her hand over his in attempt to let her go. 

It didn’t hurt Jungkook to see her like this. All in all it just feels weird to him. Weird to have one of his classmates begging for her life to be spared from the gruesome events to come. 

“ You know I can’t do that.” It honestly can’t be an option at this point. It’d be better to just continue out her days of hell with her family. “ You came for me, that means you die.”

Finally she jerks her arm back from his still in tears as she starts to back away slowly. Jungkook knew that she wouldn’t run. Not in this case. Letting her cry it out was the best way, hell it’s the only way because Namjoon would be here any minute to brand her. It would mean she belonged to Bangtan after that, and she’d have to keep quiet as they planned out her death.

Her sudden movement from the ground to climbing up the railing of the bridge alarms Jungkook. She cries louder when Jungkook comes closer to getting her down so he stops. Suicide? Right now? What happened to being all big and bold? It confuses Jungkook as to why she would take her own life right now. Either way she’d still end up dead and unhappy if Bangtan would kill her or she’d kill herself. 

“ Jungkook!” She semi-yells, pointing to the direction behind him as another guy approaches them. Just in time, the sound of Namjoon’s car can be heard from afar. He’s getting close.

The guy she’s pointed to is Casper, who’s also alarmed at the fact that she’s close to the edge right now. Jungkook holds his hand up at Casper for him to stop right there and shakes his head, meaning that it’s too risky for Casper to step in right now. Casper nods and Jungkooks turns back to the scene. 

“ Don’t you think that I’ve suffered enough? Everyday you guys give me hell. My mom can’t walk because of you guys, and my dad has health issues. You left us in the dust when we needed your support the most! I was almost put up for adoption a year ago because of you!” She sobs, wiping her never ending tears with her hoodie sleeves. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say, or do. It’s not like him to have sympathy over a rival. It’s just not in him at this very moment. 

Minlee continues on, “ Yn? She took what’s mine. My Sungmin. She plays with his heart and it hurts him a lot. I wouldn’t have did that. But no, he’s head over heels in love with him. I got left in the dust when she came along and it looks like everyone loves her, including you Jungkook. My friendgroup does anything and everything she wants because she’s just oh so little miss perfect. That was supposed to be me!”

There it is. The jealousy. Jungkook would have never known it. It’s all news and shock to him. Sungmin and Minlee? Didn’t seem like a match to begin with. 

Her dramatic meltdown continues on, but Jungkook allows it. Namjoon will be here any minute to sneakily get her down. Where is he and why the hell is he taking so long?

As if on cue, Namjoon pulls up to the scene and immediately gets out his car running towards the girl. Jungkook waves his hands for him to stop, eyes wide with a finger to his lips. The last thing he wanted was for the girl to jump. A death from their school? Surely was to be put on him and his boys. 

Namjoon stops infront of Jungkook’s car, confused as to what’s going on. Jungkook mouthes to him the words suicide attempt. That’s when Namjoon gets it and decides to let him handle getting her down. 

“ Yeah it was meant to be you. But I plan to take Yn away anyways. Then you and Sungmin could come together again.” Jungkook’s convincing isn’t convincing enough, she doesn’t buy it at all.

“ If I get down I’m going to die. There is no escaping that within the next few days i’d be dead in your hands. I made a mistake and there is no going back. Spare my parents. Let them live. I’m the one that started this. I’ll be the one to finish it.”

The girl lifts one foot off the railing and leans backwards. Jungkook’s breath hitches along with Namjoons. No. It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

“ Kang Minlee!” They both scream, running towards her. It’s too late though. Her body falls gracefully down as all three of them watch over the railing. She looks peaceful, a smile on her face while her body is sprawled out in the air.

Inches before she hits the water, the three of the boys look away with only the sound of dense water splashing to fill their ears. Namjoon sighs, putting his hands against his head. Jungkook stands there in complete shock. Casper, well Casper just shakes his head knowing the two boys weren’t prepared for that.

“ We fucked up Jungkook.”

“ I fucking know that Namjoon.” His voice cracks. It isn’t like Jungkook to cry. No not at all. Especially for a target like that. At the end of the day she was human and she did what any daughter would do for her family.

 She was also your friend.

You hadn’t heard about her death yet the next day. It’s a normal saturday morning for you. This time you’d decided to go to the cafe with your laptop and write your essay for your Psychology class. The cafe is nice, it’s cat themed and has some pretty kittens running around the outside of the kitchen and customer service area. 

As soon as you order and sit down with your Caramel frappe you spot a white kitten laying near you on the floor. A smile comes upon your face when it comes to you when you call for it. They don’t have these in Canada. Cat Cafes. The kitten lets out his purrs when you rub his back as he lays across your lap. The nametag says Mochi, a cute name for a cute kitten. 

Minutes seem to pass by without your knowledge. You’d been too into typing to hear the news on the tv being broadcasted live. It wasn’t until you heard suicide of a teenage student on Mappo Bridge. That got your attention.

You listen carefully as the news reporter goes into detail of how the body was found. It had gotten caught on a rock as the stream moved it around. A mother had found it with her kid as they walked across the bridge that early morning to look at beautiful water. It saddens you to know someone took their life. Maybe if that person had access to getting help, they’d live to see many more days. 

When they announce the name and show a school picture of the student, the look on your face drops. 

Minlee. It’s Minlee on the screen. Its all too much for you right now. Your stomach twists and turns along with your hands that begin fidgeting. She seemed so healthy and happy these past few days when you saw her. It didn’t add up. It wasn’t going to ever add up to you that you had just lost one of your new friends.

Packing your things up in a hurry, your phone begins to go off with a bunch of text messages at a time. You know it could be the groupchat. What you wanted to the most right now, is to go home to cry and calm down. You shove everything in your backpack and place the kitten back on the floor nicely before taking off towards the door. You bump into somebody on the way out, causing them to drop a picture in their hand. The two of you both reach to pick it up, but they pick it up first before you.

“ I’m sorr-”

You’ve seen her before. Long curled hair, big dimple on her left cheek, and bangs. 

There’s no fucking way. 

[lillian-nator]

Wallflower AU (aka highschool au made w/ @bellfort3)

V i b e s - hanging on the roof; walking across train tracks; skipping school; Lakes, yes, something with lakes; something with different types of sodas. - My angsty teens are gonna have painted nails - Tommy bleaches his hair; Wilbur dyes his hair black - dramatic fuck. - Wilbur in eyeliner plz - Wilbur wears doc martens; black, yellow, maroon, silver shiny - Tommy's worn the same exact jean jacket for the past 5 years; it's 2 sizes bigger than he is; but he wears it every single day; it has fur on the inside; and its light washed with tears; the tears didn’t come like it; he's just ripped it over the years - He doesn't wash it very often, but he's glued patches on it, and Wilbur's drawn on it in sharpie. He just layers hoodies or flannels under it when it’s cold, but still wears it when it's hot - Tommy's also worn the same shoes for YEARS, they’re duct taped together at this point, they're white converse, they're not white anymore, and he's bleach-washed them SO many times that they permanently smell like chemicals. - The laces are frayed, so bad that he doesn’t even wear the laces most days. - Tommy doesn't shy from going in mud or water though, he'll wear the shoes to their fullest and then some. - I think you can tell by now, that Tommy just doesn’t come from a lot of money. - They live in a kind of run down town, very poor, old, smallish. - Wilbur is middle class, which is very well off in the area he lives in. - Wilbur gives off family disappointment vibes. Where he has to sneak out at night, Tommy can leave through his front door. - Wilbur calls Tommy “sunshine”, but very sarcastically since Tommy is a dick :) - Tommy has one of Wilbur's old beanies; it's black and monster branded, the monster logo is green - Wilbur gave it to Tommy 3 years ago, and Tommy never gave it back - btw Tommy's 17 and Wilbur's 19: Tommy's a junior and Wilbur's a senior - Wilbur only drinks Green Apple Monster - Tommy drinks sugar free redbull, but mostly only when Wilbur buys it for him, because Tommy usually doesn't have pocket change - Wilbur and Tommy bring speakers to the train tracks and dance and by that, its them jumping around and occasionally pushing someone over - Tommy uses his allowance to buy cigarettes; Wilbur vapes - both mentally ill - Wilbur is essentially the modern emo. He has this one yellow and black flannel that's oversized, and he wears it multiple times a week - it’s a problem.

- Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo - That’s the group. - I have just been talking about Tommy and Wilbur but they are the main characters so you can suck it. - A scene with Dream, Wilbur, Karl, Tommy, Big Q, SapNap, Punz, and Tubbo, at a lake, throwing each other in, and Tommy gets his shoes soaked, but he saves his jacket from the fall. Water gun fights, and they drink energy drinks and eat chips. they lay in the grass and contemplate life, Talk abt life yes. Abt existence. Abt how shit it is. Half of them have to wake up early and sneak home, the other half get to stay as long as they like. - Tommy tucks his t-shirts into his pants, which are always very baggy black jeans with just gigantic holes. - Tommy and Dream both have ADHD, however, Tommy's meds are purely from welfare, he cannot afford to give any out. Dream however? From an upper-middleclass family. Basically millionaires in this town. He can afford to lose some of his meds. - He yells in the clearing "COME GET YOUR DRUGS CHILDREN" - Besides, I've learned that there are like so many different ADHD meds, and maybe Tommy is just on something a lot stronger than adderall. He can't partake in the pill popping, but he doesn't mind. He does it every morning. - They don't do it often, maybe once a month, depends on how big Dream's prescription is - not that he regularly takes them like a good boy should - And I won't ever write this, but Gogy hangs out with them every so often, in which Gogy and Wilbur have an on and off again hooking up type relationship - whenever they hang out, Gogy like sits and Wilbur's lap and shit - Tommy and Punz GAG - "EW the fuck - get your hands off eachother. ITS GROSS - NO PDA IN MY BACKYARD"

- They hang out in an abandoned Building. But they don't try to fix it up. They're not fucking VSCO girls. They just want somewhere to hang out - If anything they make it worse - they fucking trash the place - It’s not intentional though - It’s like they can have fun without worrying abt the mess - just, sometimes they spill hawiian punch mixed with vodka everywhere - THEY GHOST HUNT AND OUIJA BOARD AND SHIT - They hang out in cemeteries too. they play manhunt in a cemetery, but like the regular version- like just hide and go seek in the dark. - they've done seances even though almost all of them are atheists - anyways the point of the fact is, is that half of them (excluding the minors you know) I'm looking at you Karl and Q - somethings going on between you two have made out with guys, and I'm not gonna sugar coat it, most modern like takes on religion do not take kindly to that

- they go to prom - and Dream somehow ends up with a ton of weed, because he had just turned old enough, and had the money - and they get fucking high OUT of their minds, like they're never doing it again - like, George and Wilbur definitely hooked up at Wilbur's house, which they aren't supposed to do - because Wilbur's parents will fucking flip that Wilbur is sleeping with a random person. No one is quite sure where SapNap ended up, and Tommy lost one of his shoes. In a panic, they spent the next 3 hours looking for it to find it at the lake by the school - Tommy fucking cradles it to his chest. -  (are wilburs parents homophobic?) (yes maybe a little side of homophobia) (Is wilbur bisexual or gay?) (he is ‘whoever the fuck looks bangable’) (fair enough) (he is ‘gogy my king’) (TRUUUE) - the bleachers - they hang out under the bleachers

- Gogy = Stylish stoner - very popular, but never not high - Karl is like the goody two-shoes of the group, doesn't skip class, and is on the principals list, however, he will NEVER back down from space brownies - its his weakness - Tubbo has a subway pass, and they do that thing where Tubbo swipes it and everyone fucking bolts into the subway, and they take all the trains at like 4am and just hang from the bars and shit - Wilbur still dresses relatively like, nicely and scholarly, which puts everyone off. He wears very loose sweaters with button-ups underneath. with khakis or black jeans and his docs - where his best friend, our Tommy, wears borderline yellow converse, and one bleached two-sizes-too-large jean jacket, and some second-hand-store hoodies, that are always a bit too worn in, but so, incredibly Tommy - Tommy who legit hasn't brushed his hair in years, not with a brush anyways - too frantic to brush his teeth most mornings. but always chewing gum; Tommy's always everywhere at once - ADHD meds only half-working on him, they couldn't afford the good shit - He'll never quite understand Dream handing out his adderall for free, Tommy would kill for the hard shit, but hey, he's never gonna stop his friends from having a good time

- Let's talk about Karl Jacobs - good ole' goody two shoes Jacobs - all of his teachers are constantly trying to get him to stop hanging out with Tommy and gang - every parent teacher conference is "we love your boy, but we are concerned about his friends" - Teachers have meetings with him, about how the people you surround yourself with can change your future - Karl's like, from the good side of town, plays first in the drumline, plays violin on the side, straight a's, clean-white-air-force-ones type of guy. Name brand clothes. Combed hair - Packed lunch every day from his mom; gets dropped off by his mom, kisses her goodbye; Mom is like very involved in school too - PTA parent - it's fucking good kid Jacobs - and he's sneaking off with fucking potheads to go to college parties and abandoned buildings - Does he do drugs? Well, he’s a big fan of treats if you know what I mean :wink wink: - ….you ever see Ted's video about a 500mg edible …. yeah. - big fan of gummy bears and brownies - Karl shows up to Parties and there are shouts of "Fuckin' goody-two-shoes Jacobs is HERE" - a lot of people make fun of him and think they can push him around - He seems like a softie; welcome mat type beat - but fucking watch this man chug 5 cups of whatever you give him, and then still win beer pong - Like his best friend is fucking quackity, he can do the hard shit - its very much a his parents have no clue who he actually is type beat - Look, his parents have no clue where he is ever - And if they even know he’s out, they don’t know where or with who - If his mom is at all involved in the school, she'll hear about Quackity, basically a drug dealer with how much hash weed he hands out on a daily basis. - Tommy has to be contained in order for the school to run smoothly, and Wilbur is a dramatic fuck that sleeps through most of his classes - Tommy has to take frequent breaks - They make him spend 3rd period in the principles office - Like he obviously needs help but he can’t afford it at all. Even the school can’t do anything for him bc he can’t get anything official for himself - like he can't even try to concentrate - He gave up so quickly in high school, bc they don’t have enough time or staff to help him - he tried in middle school - but man, did he give up in highschool - Yeah. He knows it is hopeless. Can't even afford college anyway. he'll just do whatever Wilbur does - here's an idea: Fucking Karl Jacobs showing up to school one morning just absolutely hammered out of his mind - Karl just showing up to first period AP Physics, and he's barely awake, honestly smells so much like weed and booze, and if he breathed anywhere near you, you could just feel the alcohol radiating from his breath - He's extra bubbly, laughs at everything - takes out his notebook to take some sort of notes, and just fucking giggles at the shapes and equations. He is very spacy, he clearly stayed up all night doing something very illegal; he gets up and jumps around. 2nd period band? oh boy - He gets sick at lunch bet - Like everyone got Drunk but Karl got FUCKED up - It was his birthday, bet - He took like 17 shots over the course of like 8 - 12ish hours, and I looked it up, despite karl being super scrawny and probably like 140 - 150ish pounds - which isn't a lot for being 5'11 - will not kill him - BECAUSE, you guessed it, he turned 17 - He didn't sleep, he was awake taking shots and just fucking who knows what until 6am when they stumbled to school - at lunch, 11:30 in the morning - he's head down on the table, miserable - he doesn't have a hangover yet, because it's only been a few hours, but man, is he nauseous - just the smell of food makes his stomach churn - and the thing about fucking Jacobs showing up drunk as hell - is that at least one of his teachers has called his mom about it - SHES PRESIDENT OF THE PTA FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE OF THEM KNOWS HER - And the teachers aren't stupid, Karl is so obviously drunk - generally Karl is pretty quiet in class; but now he has no distinction between hanging with hs friends and being in class - he's shouting and cracking jokes and is very tempted to kick his chair over - Anyways, Karl fucks himself over, end of story  - ONTO PUNZ’S RELGIEOUS TRAUMA WOOOOOOOOOOOO - It's Punz - fuckin' golden boy Punz; he plays football; and goes to church; and calls his mother "momma"; wears a nice church outfit; and is polite to the bible study mothers that come over on tuesday nights and gets them drinks - just a fuckin' golden boy - A religious family. Go to church every Sunday. Sunday school. Holidays. But. The kid just realizes that they don’t believe in god. Them telling the group like they’re high and he’s like “you know? Some of the shit that’s happened to us proves to me that god rlly isn’t real.” - and Punz like prays every day for Tommy's dad to get his job back; or for Gogy to get better parents; or for Karl to live the life he wants; and NOTHING EVER WORKS. THEY'RE ALL STILL FUCKED. - by the way we will get the the Tommy's dad losing his job later - But Punz's life is controlled by something he doesn't even believe in anymore - because he's still going to the like church breakfasts, and christmas service, and every sunday morning, and helping his mom's ladies bible study, and his parents are talking about sending him to a youth bible camp - - and he doesn't even think he believes in god anymore. - Punz kind of took out his own personal, religious, and family struggles out the way most teenage boys do. Drinking, and lots of sex. - SO I just imagined this like, really dramatic moment, where its the morning after Punz had a one night stand at some sort of party down the street, and he's long past saving his virginity for his wife, but he's buying her the morning after pill, which his church is just so against, and he has like the moment of, "if you do this, you're done." and he does it - he's had a couple of those moments, like, when he first had sex, and when he first smoked weed, or popped a pill, or snuck out at night, or skipped church - but that was the moment of "there is no going back" - like any type of drug or procedure that aborts an embryo, or that blocks fertilization thats already in process in like: the biggest no no in his church community - so once he stepped out of that drug store, he kind of took a breath, and just came to terms with it - "I'm an atheist." - Punz is the pastors son. - he's like, pre-commited to a catholic college - he’s in deep. - so when he first announces it to his friends, one really late night, "I think god might not be my thing." - they just start whistling and say "FINALLY, THE PASTORS SON HAS TURNED AROUND." - Dream just like turns over to him "how many chicks did you fuck to make you realize that?" - Tommy just slings his arm over Punz, "I'm glad you've quit the Jesus shit, Punz. Your better than it." - There’s gotta be this girl ok. He rlly rlly wants to have sex with her but he always backs out. The thing that breaks him. Is that he gets drunk and loses his virginity to someone who is not that girl - like, he likes this girl, and has a good connection with her, and she likes him, and he knows that its gonna be comepletly consentual, and she's like fucking beautiful right? - and she's the one he wants to loose it to and he's a stupid fucking idiot and loses it to some fucking random ass chick that doesn't even go to their school - This triggers a spiral. After that? He slowly starts giving less of a fuck abt everything. He fucked up the one thing you can’t do over and god he’s so painfully aware of it and so painfully aware that he didn’t even fuck up right. - You’re supposed to wait till marriage. Nope. You’re supposed to do it with someone you love and trust. Double nope. He. Fucked. Up. - its just like he wanted to do something bad. he wanted to fuck something up. he was questioning his faith, his like, great and sturdy and always-there faith for the first time, and what better way to test faith than to do something shitty and see what comes of it. and so he was planning and planning and planning how he was gonna do this terrible thing - which is such a good kid thing to do, to put so much thought into your own rebellion - but he wanted this to go perfectly. - Little Pastors Son, Punz, wasn't gonna wait till marriage. - He was gonna have sex with the girl of his dreams before they were even dating - but man did he like her. Did he want her. - And then he fucked some random girl when he was black out drunk. He's fucked everything up - he can't wash this away with confession - he's tainted. He's dirty. - He looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize the heathen staring back. - He hates who he's become. - But he never goes back - he can't. He's dirty. He's wrong. - but the more he goes down the spiral - the more he realizes that one mistake shouldn't have made him feel like that - that if god was real, which he honestly wasn't sure in that department, he wouldn't want Punz to feel like the scum of the earth for doing something wrong. especially when he felt so bad after he did it. This system was fucked. He didn't want to be apart of another cycle - and he's just lying to himself every time he goes to church, and reads a cerse for his mom, and meets with younger kids at the church, and plays flag football with fucking church virgins who are good catholics and follow all their mommas orders - And every night when he says grace he means it less and less. he always does it when his momma asks, but boy does the lords word mean shit to him anymore From Ethan: - A turning point to the others in Punz's breakaway from Catholicism is like - He prays before he eats, usually. Sometimes they wait for him to finish his prayer before eating themselves, just out of politeness. He's a friend, he gets that shred of etiquette - And then one day he just doesn't. They got some fast food for a whole group dinner out at their hangout spot (a warehouse, did you say??) Tommy is staring at it intently but he waits for Punz to pray. Tubbo's already started eating but the rest wait - And Punz just starts eating - Dream nudges him, "No prayer, Pastor's boy?" - "No prayer," Punz mumbles into his food. "I'm trying something new." SO, TOMMYS DAD LOSING HIS JOB ARC W000000000 - it starts with Tommy showing up in a different jacket one day - like you have to understand, he's worn this jean jacket every single day for as long as WIlbur has known him, which is like 6 years - Like Tommy shows up in this giant, khaki work-jacket and it's his dads... - HIS DAD DIDNT DIE - his dad lost his job, which is essentially death to a family who already couldn't sustain themselves - and Tommy shows up to school, face pale and cheeks sunk in and there are visible bags under his eyes - and Wilbur just rushes over immediately and hugs him so tight to his chest - and Tommy just sobs, "pops lost his job -" gasp "I can't - we can't pay the bills this month. everything - its all falling apart Will." - "Hey - hey. Stop. It's gonna be fine. You're gonna be okay. You always are dude." - Tommy does have to get a job - and he probably does drop out of school unofficially, like he just stops going. - he sleeps during the morning classes, and heads into work at 10am - he's a carpenters assistant. it pays well as they need young, able men. but most of the younger citizens in the town go to school - he has to take the day shift because the day shift pays better - he doesn't mind it, he doesn't - it gives him the opportunity to get all of his energy out; but he misses going to school. as much as he hated it, he misses his friends. - and lets be honest, its hard as fuck for his dad to find a new job, he doesn't have a great resume - he didn't graduate from highschool. and he isn;t in top health condition, he definitely doesn't have health insurance - so Tommys stuck with this job for a long time - his dad uses his last paycheck to buy Tommy workboots so tommy feels in debt to him - He’ll get his GED eventually. - I think - The like religious status of the rest of the group brought to you by me - Everyone who I don’t mention is just a hard atheist - Karl and Wilbur are catholic, but to a lesser extent, Wilbur doesn't really go through with lent, and Karl only sometimes does. They go to a different church and go pretty much on holidays only, a sunday a month maybe. - SapNap goes to Punz's church, they've been friends for years. - He goes to sunday school but misses a lot of sermons because of his siblings sports games. - He is involved, but not to the way Punz is - SapNap's mother is in fact in Punz's moms bible group - Punz sometimes doesnt attend the bible group and Sap's mother is all "now you tell that pastor's boy to actually attend next time, got it?" and Sapnap dies a little on the inside - And George is an orthodox christian, but he's pretty much quit due to the blatant homophobia he's seen at his church. 

AND NOW ON WILBUR SOOT AND KARL JACOBS AND BARKING - Wilbur has siblings, fun fact - that we will never talk about or address - but definitely nothing like Wilbur, more the Karl Jacobs type - Wilbur is the oldest. he's always lectured about being 'a good influence on your brother and sister.' - They’re big sports kids. Softball and Basketball (tall genes). Straight Bs; Bed by 10pm; Have never missed school - Parents pride and joy :) - Just good suburban kids, Have friends next door, help the neighbors, attend the cul-de-sac barbecues. - Basically who Wilbur used to be up until highschool (until Wilbur met weed and a good group of stoners) - Sure he was a disappointment and he had no clue what to do with his life - But he was happier - Never really liked being the goody- two-shoes boy next door, he doesn't know how karl does it “Playing good boy like a dog” - Also he used dog terms around Karl - Because he’s “Playing good boy like a dog” - He’ll throw Karl a beer and smile “go fetch” - He laughs so hard when he sees Karl be good in a class or play it up for his parents; Because Wilbur’s so past trying - Wilbur will walk by and just bark at karl. Bet. Just Growls lowly; Walks in a  circle; Anything to make Karl’s parents (or Wilbur’s own) stare at him and scurry away - Karl’s parents push Karl forward and like hold their younger kids close to their chest, whispering “keep close, don’t look at him” - They tell Karl to stay away from kids like him. - And boy do Wilbur’s pa#rents hate it, They push him along and whisper yell at him As he throws his head back and cackles - I mean imagine, like a stereotypical middle class suburban family: House wife, blue collared father, Two kids; in sports jerseys, Girl in braids, boy in khakis - And then there’s Wilbur: Doc Martins, black jeans, collar and sweater, beanie. Definitely high on something - Chains LOTS OF CHAINS - And he's Barking. Fucking Barking At the nice family down the street - And then he takes out his vape right in front of his parents and silently offers Karl a hit with a smirk - Cause Karl’s too busy playing good boy - And as Karl’s family looks back, as Wilbur is corralled by his mom - He flips them off with the biggest smirk uou will ever see - Wilbur's kind of an ass - And Karl really wants a hit of that vape.

[pensivetense]

A List Of (Mostly TMA) Fic Recs Sorted By Vibe

Not an exhaustive list by any means, just a few favourites that caught my fancy. I shortened many of the summaries for space.

I’m going to pin this here and update it as I go.

Also, I’m pensivetense on ao3

MELANCHOLY VIBES

for when you want to feel comfortably muted

(sad but not utterly bleak endings here)

Hope, Etc. (Dickenson, et al.) by yellow_caballero

Jonathan Sims, six months after the Unknowing, wakes to find himself without a daemon - without humanity, without a soul. It’s a cursed half-life, but existence as a shell without a heart isn’t so bad: between solving the mystery of a persistent illusion cast over his friends and some light pseudo-cannibalism, a life as a monster is better than no life at all. At least, it would be, if it wasn’t for the fucking Owl.

A freaking. Amazing. Daemon au. Ties the lore of Dust with TMA lore very satisfyingly, but is mostly about Jon navigating what it means to be human, or, in the absence of that, a person, and doesn’t require prior knowledge of His Dark Materials. Cannot recommend highly enough.

after one long season of waiting by nuinuijiaojiao

Annabelle is not used to having nice things. or, Annabelle heads to Upton House, muses a little, and gets some well-deserved rest

I love survivalist Annabelle and also the concept of the Web as kind of a horrible Patron, actually.

i love you. I want us both to eat well. by SmallishWormMasterOfTheUniverse

At the safehouse with Martin, Jon decides it's time to quit statements once and for all. The Eye disagrees. Martin just needs Jon to be okay. It's quite possible that nobody is going to get what they want.

Scottish Safehouse Era, Jon and Martin coping with their respective Entities... really, really good.

the friend by doomcountry

He always greets a new spider when he meets it. It’s instinct, born in childhood, the same way he instinctively counts magpies, or flicks salt over his left shoulder. A little harmless superstition. A bit of politesse.

A great Martin character study with eldritch spider horror included. The imagery regularly haunts me (in a good way).

autumn’s rare gift by bee_bro

Annually, the two meet, renewing the binding ritual where it had all started. The procedure simple: a waltz.

Singlehandedly made me ship Gertrude/Agnes so there’s that. It’s so bittersweet and bee_bro’s writing is, as always, incredibly poetic. (I’d recommend everything they write, actually.)

smile, you’re trending by Goodluckdetective

During an encounter with another Avatar of the Eye, Jon faces his past, Martin takes a turn at playing Kill Bill and Basira has a second look at the monster she’s determined to see. For three people associated with the Eye, they could all use some perspective.

Features an original Eye Avatar character who’s a YouTube personality; she is infuriating and inspired and genuinely frightening and I cannot say enough good things.

Humility by The_Lionheart

have you no idea that you're in deep?/i've dreamt about you nearly every night this week,/how many secrets can you keep?

An OC centric story but don’t let that put you off, it’s amazing. Very heavily focused around Jonah Magnus and the other Avatars as they change through the years. Also, I’d die for the OC.

oh, for one sweet second without the eye series by faedemon

Beholding does not like in the way humans do, but it likes its Archivist all the same.

I’m just so fond of the way this is done stylistically. I have a great weakness for dialogue only/dialogue heavy writing, not to mention all of the wonderful character beats and interplay of humanity/inhumanity for Jon and Melanie.

Rewind by WhyNotFly

It takes eight days of forced confinement for Jon to start hallucinating. [...] It’s Martin, though, that his exhausted brain conjures, because of course it’s Martin. After all this time, of course it’s Martin.

Jon willingly allows himself to be confined rather than hunting for statements, and examines his relationship with Martin.

for a firmament series by supaslim

There is beauty in destruction. There is art in becoming. In which Jon becomes the Archive, and the Archive becomes Jon.

Part two posted this morning and uhhh. Good. Also if you’re here for weird eldritch body horror (I am), this one’s for you.

ONES THAT JUST HURT

for when you want to feel sad

(somewhat bleaker endings here/everyone is NOT okay)

Feste by yellow_caballero

If asked, Martin would say that he became the shadow director of the Magnus Institute by accident. But nobody ever asked, and nobody ever cared, and it was in this way that Martin stopped lying to himself. Or: break free, Martin. All you have to lose are your chains. And your sanity.

Oh, this one totally didn’t go the way I expected it to. A study in isolation. Could go into the category above, as the ending is not bleak, but the tone of the whole is somewhat more depressing than most there.

Ghosts of Love by RavenXavier

Nothing made Martin more grounded in the world than yearning for Jonathan Sims.

Lonely!Martin that really captures a sort of visceral ache. Hurts me and yet I keep rereading.

i do desire (we may be better strangers) by godbewithyouihavedone

For ages, it only knew how to worship, taking human bodies and living off the fear of those who remembered. It never knew love until it became Jonathan Sims. Now it must fight against every instinct to save Martin Blackwood. Archivist Sasha, Not!Jon/Martin, and the worst kind of Fake Dating AU.

Oh, this one just made me sad. The poor not!them, which is something I never thought I’d say.

Apple Of Your Eye by fakeCRfan

In which the Eye is fond of Martin. Perhaps a little too fond for comfort.

Somehow manages to be both sweet and horrifying—the characterisation of the Eye is incredible. ‘The Eye loves Martin’ is a scenario that’s so utterly doomed to failure and yet the writing is packed with so much pathos that I just want them all to be happy. A fantastic use of themes of agency and choice, and the single best use of Beholding as a source of horror I’ve read.

The Last Press by copperbadge

Jon Sims is awake, and has begun preparations for the Rite of the Watcher's Crown. Peter Lukas, who woke him, would be content to rule at his side. Martin is very upset about all of this, and the Lukases aren't thrilled with it either.

I really can’t say anything without spoiling the end and it’s so good. An alternate take on the Watcher’s Crown. Not a pairing that I ever thought would work for me, but this made it work.

watch the blood evaporate by 75hearts

It starts, like so many things in Jon’s life have started, with a nagging itch of curiosity. Jonathan Sims uses his healing abilities throughout s4. Read the tags.

Dear God please read the tags. But this is some high quality pain if it’s for you.

the lighthouse series by low_fi

Peter Lukas is a lighthouse keeper. One evening, he gets a call from a cryptic overseer tasked with monitoring his work.

This is such a vivid and yet subtle story—from the setting to the emotions portrayed, it creeps up on you slowly. The ending was like the gentlest possible gut-punch. The sequel just completed, and yeah, just as wonderful. This one is very much LonelyEyes but I listed it here because it is just exquisitely painful.

SATISFYINGLY HOPEFUL VIBES

for when you want to feel cozy

Clutching Daffodils by Gemi

Martin has always liked the idea of love at first sight. It’s such a romantic idea, the whole thing of it. Seeing someone and instantly feeling that strange, twisting feeling deep inside that every single media likes to obsess over. Of knowing you are in love within the day, petals falling from your mouth and warmth filling your chest as love burrows deep, vines twisting through your lungs. He always liked the idea of it. And then Jonathan Sims starts working at the Magnus Institute.

Somehow manages to be lighter and fluffier than most hanahaki fare, despite the setting. I’ve reread this one a lot.

the least he could do by Prim_the_Amazing

Martin should in fact not pick this man, specifically because of how attracted he is to him. It would be the responsible thing to do. Except he’s already following him. And he’s hungry.

Fluffy vampire au which everyone’s probably already read, but was too good not to mention.

rather interesting by bee_bro

Jonah Magnus realizes that, for some reason, when he comes in contact with weed, Elias Bouchard's consciousness will come into his life banging pots and pans.

Oh boy. So these are all favourite fics but this one is a favourite amongst favourites. The way Jonah is characterised (i.e. incredibly sensitive to scrutiny) is my favourite depiction of him, and the slow-burn between him and Elias is far sweeter than it has any right to be. Also, it’s hilarious.

The Magnus Records series by ErinsWorks

In a world parallel to that of the Archives and the Institute, a supernatural sanctuary stands against a cruel and uncaring world: A world of bureaucracy and tyranny, of murder and carnage, of loneliness and surveillence, of plague and death. But in this world of fear and misery, 14 entities born of the hopes of the world have emerged. And one of them has made their home here, at The Magnus Sanctuary. Perhaps, the employees within may lead happier lives than their counterparts did in the Archives.

This is just so goddamn pure. The author writes a really imaginative, fleshed-out alternate world and alternate Entities with engaging, well-written short statements. All of the character voices are absolutely on point, and it’s overall absurdly hopeful without ever feeling overly saccharine. I love this series so much, you guys, you don’t even know. I want to print it out and paste it on my wall. I love it.

HARD APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel dark and angsty (and eldritch)

Most of these are shorts/oneshots because it’s just that kind of genre, y’know?

Ashes to Ashes by marrowbones

A conversation at the end of the world.

Oliver Banks is one of those minor characters that I am overly attached to. Love him here.

Employee Benefits by equals_eleven_thirds

The Magnus Institute offered some normal employee benefits: a pension plan, holidays, travel subsidies, free lunch on the last Friday of each month. Rosie makes it work.

This manages to hit that perfect sweet spot of satisfying and hilarious. Rosie gets to torment Elias, as she well deserves.

a rose by any other name by Duck_Life

Part of Jon blooms in Jared Hopworth’s garden.

This one was sad and honestly too gentle to really belong in this category, but I love it.

Eye to Eye by Dribbledscribbles

In which Jonah Magnus attempts a post-apocalyptic pep talk.

Unreliable narrator at its finest, and the implications are suitably horrific.

commensalis by doomcountry

The tower is endlessly, impossibly tall, but Jon’s work is taller.

If you’re here for the eldritch imagery, then this has some of the best.

SOFT APOCALYPSE

for when you want to feel gently triumphant

apocalypse how series by sunshine_states

Humanity adjusts. The Entities have Regrets.

Some nice vignettes set in a kinder apocalypse.

ceylon series by Sciosa

The one in which Jonathan Sims decides that no, actually, he isn't going to let the world just end.

I include this only for the sake on completeness, as everyone has no doubt already read it.

rituals by doomcountry

Martin is the first person to knock on the Archivist's door since it arrived, fully, into its little waiting temple. The Archivist saw him coming from down the hall, but decides to feign interest when the knob turns, and Martin—still a little bit smaller, a little more translucent than before—stands uncertainly just outside the room.

This one’s a little less focused on the world at large and more on JonMartin specifically.

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way; (although perhaps the world itself and the darkness that exists behind it isn't quite as out to get everyone as it seems).

More ‘soft revolution’ than ‘soft apocalypse’, but has the same vibe. A time travel fix-it. Incomplete but worth it if this is a mood that appeals to you.

Scarred Ground by DictionaryWrites

“You see," Elias said softly, "people always have this idea that only living things can be scarred - and they're right, of course. But a building is a living thing, Martin. And the ground can be scarred, too." "I don't have any scars," Martin said. "Yes, you do," Elias said. "You just need the right light to see them.”

Falls somewhere between ‘Apocalypse’ and ‘Soft Apocalyse’ but I’m putting it here because I feel like it. Also technically a LonelyEyes fic. I found it hard to follow at first but it’s worth sticking with; things will eventually begin to make sense and come together.

LONELYEYES

for when you want to feel lonelyeyes

marrying anguish with one last wish by procrastinatingbookworm

In which Elias isn't Orpheus, and Peter isn't Eurydice, but Elias brings Peter home anyway.

Lives in my head rent free forever. My favourite lonelyeyes fic.

ouroboros by Wildehack

“You know,” Jonah says, a muscle in his calf quivering agreeably where it’s slung over Mordechai’s shoulder, “it’s really quite--fortunate--that I don’t care for you at all.”

Oh, this one hurts in the best possible way. The endless cycle of their relationship, the way it comes full-circle... yeah, good. Actually, no, this one might be my favourite. It’s a tie.

Breaking all the Rules by Thedupshadove

Elias proposes a somewhat...unusual wager.

Soft lonelyeyes? In my recs? It’s more likely than you think. Short, sweet, and... sweet.

Threefold by Sprinkledeath

Peter Lukas breaks three rules.

I’m just a slut for mythology allusions I guess.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight by prodigy

In 2014, Elias Bouchard takes a rare trip outside of his comfort zone. Peter Lukas wastes a bunch of money. You'd be surprised how many things can go wrong for two beings of cosmic power.

I love the sense of the history of them you get while reading this.

love is just a word (the idea seems absurd) by kaneklutz

"Something's wrong. It's stopped hurting" An avatar of the Lonely and an avatar of the Beholding walk into a bar relationship. It was bound to blow up in their faces.

Short, sweet, painful. Excellent exploration of their priorities.

Victor by penguistifical

elias tries something with his powers that he hasn't attempted before

The one where Elias tries to raise the dead. Not incredibly LonelyEyes centric but that’s still the pairing.

Simon Says by penguistifical

“Peter asked me to drop by and have a word with you, and, so, here I am.” Simon chuckles at Elias’s disbelieving stare. “Well, he asked in his own way. He’s not a complicated man, you know. He either comes from your arms looking like a stroked cat that’s been given a dish of cream or looking like he’s been in that toy boat of his out in an unexpected storm. He was far angrier than normal, so I daresay you weren’t cream today.”

I mean personally I’d just go ahead and rec all of penguistifical’s LonelyEyes fics but this is a standout for me.

AROMANTIC AND ASPEC MOODS

for when you want to feel Seen

The Aro Archives series by WhyNotFly

These are all just really really good. From Aro!Peter to two different aro-spec versions of the Scottish Safehouse to a long and beautiful aro hanahaki fic, this series is uniformly wonderful. The two Scottish Safehouse ones (Torn Edges and Murky Water) are my comfort fics.

and now all fear gives way by j_quadrifons

Before he can think it through, he murmurs, "Is that what it feels like? Being in love?" Martin's hand stills in his hair and Jon's stomach drops.

This one just. Wow yeah this is how it be. Another absolute comfort fic of mine.

Sweet As Roses by Prim_the_Amazing

Jon takes Martin by the shoulders, leans up on the tips of his toes, and kisses him.

I’m going to be honest—I didn’t know where to put this one. But it ended up here because the real standout of this fic for me is the portrayal of Sasha, and especially her portrayal as an aro character. So I’m putting it here. Mind the content warnings with this one!

HUMOUR

for when you want to feel delight

The Torment of Sebastian Skinner by Urbenmyth

After the Eye's victory, the statement givers are trapped in their horror stories, living them over and over again. Naturally, this works out better for some then for others.

Premise? Delightful. Execution? Fantastic. I read this one to cheer myself up when I’m sad.

Unlucky by VolxdoSioda

Jon’s dice betray him

Short, sweet DnD au, and the reason I cannot get DM!Elias out of my head now.

Voracious by beetl

A bird hits the window. Jon experiences The Flesh's thrall.

“Dead Dove: Do Not Eat” but make it literal.

The Stupid Endings by Urbenmyth

There are a lot of very deeply thought out and creative AUs on this site. These aren't among them. These ones are how the story could have ended, if Jonny Sims was a dumbass.

These are just uniformly hilarious, I cannot recommend them highly enough.

PODCAST CROSSOVERS

for when you want to make one of those “if I had a nickel for every time...” posts

The Sabbatical by morelikeassassin

Nicholas Waters is in need of an all-knowing eldritch entity beyond the confines of human imagining to help with his latest ritual. He'll have to settle for Jonathan Sims, who happens to have nothing better to do.

Crossover with Archive 81 (s3, specifically). Both fun and bittersweet.

The City And Its Sorrows by cuttooth

“What makes you think your friend is in Eskew?” David asks. He feels he can risk the scrutiny of the city that far. “I read that this is a place people end up when they get lost,” says the man. “This is a place people end up,” David agrees./The Archivist comes to Eskew.

Contemplative piece, and I love the way it presents David’s relationship with Eskew, the way he finds it horrible and hates it and yet belongs to it, is almost proud in the way he shows to to Jon. Great little vignette of two people oppressed by eldritch powers, intersecting.

Hiatus by bibliocratic

My name is Jonathan Sims, and I am in Eskew. (Jon gets lost in a Spiral city. It is not as easy as escaping.)

This one is far more focused on Jon than David, and is honestly more Eskew-weird than Spiral-weird. In the best way. Told in Eskew episode style, and is very good.

Sweet Music by Shella688

Eskew has a music to it, if you know how to listen. The percussion beat of thousands of footsteps, the melody in the squealing of the trains overhead. Today, the music of Eskew comes in the form of nine musicians, playing outside my office. My name is David Ward, and I am in Eskew.

Not TMA, but since a lot of Mechs fans go here—this one’s a Mechs/Eskew crossover. Short and simple, mostly David Ward centric, just a little well-written one shot I had to mention because I enjoyed it but it doesn’t have much traffic. Nice portrayal of the Mechs from an outsider’s perspective, and how genuinely strange and frightening they’d come across (especially if you’re already being haunted by and eldritch city). If you like Eskew-style storytelling, check it out!

NOT TMA

...but good enough that I physically cannot make a recs list without including them. Here!

[sleepyowlsleeps]

Sleepy’s Favorite K-Pop Songs of 2020

1. Any Song - Zico -- this song is not particularly special, but the main vibe, “play any song that makes you happy” is exactly how my musical tastes were in 2020, for the regular reasons we all faced AND for some extra, personal reasons that made me search out happier or deceptively happy songs, or songs that lay next to me instead of crawling under my skin. I usually love when a song sings my soul back to me, but there were many moments last year that I just couldn’t handle that, or couldn’t handle it the same way I usually would. Spotify says that Any Song was played the most of, well, any song, and I know why.

2. Midnight Train - Se So Neon -- this is a song that lay beside me, from the first time I heard it and every time after. It actually doesn’t have a ton of lyrics, but the ones it has are vibrating with intention and casual pain. There is ice on the tip of your tongue but it mellows as the guitar takes you out with the tide. Sometimes the melody is clashing so hard against your teeth you’re worried it’ll just swallow you whole, but instead it falls like a heavy rain, washing everything clean. Please, please listen to this song.

3. Scream - Dreamcatcher -- they have never released a bad song, and I actually love their entire discography. It’s one of the few that I do listen to just by itself, no other artists. Dreamcatcher have never been afraid to be brash and in your face, nor do they shy away from saying how it is. There is an open wound inside this song, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. The lyrics are intense, the instrumentals are intense, the performances in the vocals are fire and wine and steel. I love it.

4. Can’t You See Me? - TXT -- I really loved Run Away in 2019, which for a debut year was jam packed with content. TXT has this wonderful take on youth and maturity and being real about your emotions. Their voices are soft and sweet, even while this song is talking about the disparity between reality and dreams, truth and lies. Every part of the song captures my attention, I don’t think it has any weak points, and I always picture the MV. Strawberries will never be the same. This song did sing my soul to me a little, but even though the sound was visceral it never cut through bone. It was gentle and kind, and held my hand.

5. Close - Han (Stray Kids) -- I did not expect that this little song would end up meaning so much to me, but it did. Stray Kids had an amazing year as always, but I guess my love for Han’s singing and his lyricism just got me. Han has a way of just pulling back all the weeds surrounding my feelings, but not tugging them straight out. He’s patient with the dandelions and doesn’t insist on clarity right away. This song got closer and closer to me the more I listened to it, until it was stuck in my head and I was never mad about it. There are blue skies and sunshine and someone is waiting for me, ready to smile when I turn around.

6. Back Door - Stray Kids -- the production behind SKZ’s music does continually get better, but I think the more appropriate term is “expands.” Their sound remains largely the same, while each new release tries something new, echoes the old, and continues to push the same message they’ve had since the beginning: inclusivity. Stray Kids is here for you, to welcome you into the club and to have a good time with you while we talk about the struggles we’re all facing. I haven’t yet gotten sick of this song, it goes by in a flash and for once, I don’t have a favorite part, or a section that gets stuck in my head more than others. It’s the whole package for me.

7. Kick It - NCT 127 -- NCT makes a lot of very clean, very specific sounding sounds that I don’t really care for. I have a few favorites, and actually really love the whole of the debut album, but I don’t go out of my way to listen to their music. Kick It, though, was just so much fun, it had sharp edges and and a smooth underbelly. Haechan sounds the best, I love his voice SO MUCH, but everyone sounds good. I like the unison parts, the repeat mantras, the bombastic way the lyrics aren’t really saying a lot but are so enthusiastic that you don’t care.

8. eight - IU, SUGA -- IU just continues to evolve and make music that is really, really good. None of her songs are overly complex or visionary, but they are friendly and relevant, and sit outside your door with brownies and lemonade. IU’s voice can do soft, can do poignant, can do intense, depending on her mood. She is a singer of extraordinary caliber and I love seeing everything she does next. eight was a simple but beautiful song that plays into your nostalgia without sugar-coating everything, and at the same time there’s such a lightness too it. It’s a short song and SUGA’s rap was such an unexpected addition that actually worked really well. 

9. So What - LOONA -- this is a song deserving of a much higher spot, but I think I just wasn’t quite as ready for LOONA’s next evolution as others’. Still, this song is so good, with potentially the best bridge of the entire year. Everyone sounds so good, the song hypes you up and never lets you down. Even though the concept is one we’ve seen before, LOONA never makes anything sound the same. There is no compromise, there is only awesomeness.

10. ON - BTS -- I went around in circles contemplating how much I did or didn’t like this song. BTS is going places with their music that I don’t love as much as their stuff from, say 2016-18, but they are still incredible artists and performers. And ignoring all the rest, all the talk, just focusing on the song itself, it’s really good. It’s really, really good and the kind of song that I unapologetically sing really loudly in the car. There are quieter parts that acknowledge how exhausting it is to keep moving forward when you’re in pain, strong, jagged tantrums that demand that the pain try harder to keep you down, spaces to breath and places to run. This is a song that says we’re going through a battle and it’s hard, but we can see that there is an end, there is hope, and nothing will keep us down. Even through pain and tears, we can go on. 

And now things get a little funky because I had a lot of favorites:

11. Tiger Eyes - Ryu Su Jeong Girls - Nature Villain - Stella Jang Boca - Dreamcatcher Left & Right - Seventeen

12. Come Back Home - ONEUS Summer Breeze - SF9 Apple - GFriend Bon Voyage - YooA pporappippam - Sunmi

13. Me Time - Yubin Easy - Stray Kids Favorite Boys - A.C.E Think of Dawn - Ghost9 The Stealer - The Boyz

14. One - Golden Child Alien - Lee Suhyun A Song Written Easily - ONEUS La Di Da - Everglow Blue Hour - TXT

15. Breath - GOT7 Hands Up - Cherry Bullet Answer/Inception - ATEEZ 90′s Love - NCT U End of Spring - ONEWE

[vicecityhq]

██████████████]99% LOADING...SUSPECT INTO THE APD DATABASE...

WITNESS(ES) SAY HE REMINDS THEM OF: the last plump dumpling on the plate that you and your friend fight over, the betrayal you feel when you drink a milkshake that’s too cold and get a brain freeze but it’s too good to stop, and the buzzing of a bumble bee flitting from flower to flower. With a slight resemblance to LEE JOOHEON  (JOOHONEY) of/the MONSTA X.

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Last Name, First Name: Kkul Beol (actually his full name. He doesn’t have a surname) ALIAS: Yellowjacket Realm of birth(if earth, nationality): Divine Realm Age: Unknown, but has lived 26 years in Earth realm Date of Birth: May 20th (aka World Bee Day) Gender: Male Preferred Pronouns: he/him or they/them Species: Spiritual Fairy Occupation: The Howlers, Dealer Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

VISUAL FILE:

Skin Color: Milky, pale Eye color: Varies Scars: None Piercings: Ears, Dimple piercings Tattoos:When he doesn’t have his wings out, they manifest as bold linework that follows along his shoulder blades and down his back. He has a colorful fairy pinup girl on his right inner forearm. A bumble bee design on his left upper arm that blends into a fairy circle tattoo on that inner forearm. Various weeds and flowers on his legs. Hair color: Varies Abnormalities: Since Beol can reinvent his physical form to his liking, his features may change on a whim. However, he does tend to stick to the same form, with only his hair and eye color varying. Transformed form:As a spiritual fairy, Beol’s physical form is only a formality that allows him to better experience the world. His spiritual presence is formless and genderless. It is almost like looking at dust when it catches the light.

PERSONAL FILE:

RELIGIOUS BELIEF:  N/A SINS:  greed  /  gluttony  /  sloth  / lust  /  pride  /  envy  /  wrath VIRTUES: chastity  /  charity  /  diligence  /  humility /  kindness /  patience /  justice KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean, English, Gaelic SECRETS: Beol manages to get out of being prosecuted for his crimes by charming the officers who try to arrest him with his fairy dust or using illusions to escape. SAVVIES: drawing, getting tattooed, playing pranks. Powers & Abilities: fairy dust manipulation, healing, wish granting (but it usually has a hidden caveat), semi-immortality, empathy, energy manipulation and absorption, energy barriers, energy blasts, malleable anatomy/shapeshifting, spirit physiology, illusions, intangibility, possession, telekinesis (via fairy dust manipulation), teleportation.  Traits: (positive) chipper, animated, fun-loving and playful. (negative) fickle, impatient, gets petulant when things don’t go his way, doesn’t realize his pranks can be harmful or perhaps he feigns ignorance. Aesthetics: the last plump dumpling on the plate that you and your friend fight over, the betrayal you feel when you drink a milkshake that’s too cold and get a brain freeze but it’s too good to stop, and the buzzing of a bumble bee flitting from flower to flower.

BACKGROUND CHECK:

Date of Birth: May 20th, year unknown Date of Death: N/A Crime Record: Beol knows that he should avoid getting entangled with the authorities at all costs, but his innately mischievous nature contradicts rationality. He rather enjoys skating on thin ice when it comes to getting caught. When he was a “teen,” he often got in trouble for truancy, vandalism, and theft. Now, as an “adult,” he has to be far more conscious about getting caught. He has been charged with possession and possession with the intent to distribute, but - miraculously - has not served any jail time.

Background/Biography:

In a time long ago, Celts used to believe that when a person slept or entered a hypnotic state that their soul left the body in the form of a bee. Sometimes those souls got lost on the way back (or perhaps were detained) and found their way to the divine realm of the fae, where they would become what is known as spiritual fairies. Or at least that was the story Beol’s mother told them, but the reality was that there was no living fae who remembered exactly where they originated. Their mother would affectionately call them their ‘wandering little bee’ because Beol was an adventurous child who could never be tied down in one place. It came as no surprise to them when Beol decided to leave the realm they’d always known and venture out into the human world.

When Beol crossed over to the mortal plane, they embraced the incredibly different way of life with childish wonder and enthusiasm. At first they explored in their spiritual form and enjoyed playing all sorts of pranks on unsuspecting humans, but - as is typical of the fickle nature of fairies - that grew boring quickly. Beol eventually constructed a physical form so they could better interact with others around them. Being a young and playful soul, Beol chose the façade of a school-aged child since their fun-loving antics were very similar to his own. What he didn’t take into account, though, was that a parentless, vagrant child stood out and it wasn’t long before his friend’s parents became concerned for his well-being.

In his naivety, Beol didn’t think much of it when they’d asked where he lived and who looked after him, telling them that he took care of himself and stayed wherever he wanted. That naturally led to the police being contacted and Beol was placed in an orphanage until they could find a family for him. Truthfully, he could have simply flitted off and ventured someplace new, but the idea of living with other kids sounded like an eternal sleepover to him and how could that be bad? Of course, it wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies in the system. Many of the orphans came from broken homes and were passed around to fosters that were no better. They’d come back with new scars and bereft of their smiles, their innocence gobbled up by the darkness within others.

Beol couldn’t stand seeing them hurt. He could vividly imagine how they’d gotten each bruise like he’d experienced it himself and felt their anguish like a bottomless pit in the center of his chest. Yet he wasn’t powerless to fight against it like they were and Beol quickly went from using his abilities for harmless fun to avenging his friends. He would go out of his way to be assigned to their previous foster parents and would make sure to traumatize them so much with his illusion magicks that they never dared to take in another child again. While it did make him feel better, his habit of terrorizing parents tarnished his record and made him increasingly difficult to adopt out. Not that that bothered Beol. Sure, it was hard watching his friends eventually leave to go with loving parents, but protecting those that remained had become his responsibility and he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that if he left. Besides, he had parents and didn’t need new ones, even if his counselors never believed him when he told them.

As he “aged” into teenage years, Beol’s outer image evolved to suit his interests and style. He became close with the more rebellious crowd, other lost boys and girls like himself who couldn’t care less about authority or conforming to what society wanted. They spent more time in seedy pc bangs and back alleys sharing a pack of smokes than they did in school or hoping for families that would never accept them. It was around this time that he actually came out about what he really was and where he’d come from, though that identity seemed like a far off memory now. He was no longer a shade wearing the suit of a man and could freely embrace his quirkier side without worrying about anyone disapproving.

INTERVIEW QUESTION (para sample): “Just run us through what happened that night”. - Officer

This charade always amused Beol. Every time he found himself in this position, with an officer staring him down on the other side of the table in the cramped interrogation room, he wondered why their initial play was to put on this veil of ignorance. As if they didn’t already know what he did or have evidence against him. Did it actually work on suspects? He assumed that most people dug themselves into a hole trying to weave a pitiful fallacy with the same gusto as a scared child blaming the broken vase on the cat in the hopes that it would exonerate them. Beol, on the other hand, was a sophisticated liar and not burdened with the pressing need to evade something. He could phase out of the room right before their very eyes, after all. So the only reason he had to deceive them was simply because it was fun.

“Well, I can’t just start with last night, officer. That’s not how good storytelling works.” He countered coyly and rocked the chair back onto the two rear legs so he could kick his clunky boots up onto the table. Dirt and grime broke loose from the deep grooves in the sole and fell onto the open file set out before the policeman who was trying his best to see unperturbed, but Beol relished in the neigh imperceptible way his jawline tensed in annoyance. “It all began when my parents died in a tragic car accident and I was adopted by my rotten aunt and uncle. You know, they always told me my father was a drunk and that the apple wouldn’t fall far from the tree. So at least I’m exceeding someone’s expectations. Anyway, this one day, we went to the zoo for my cousin’s birthday and there was this enormous python-”

[xoluvx]

Sativa - P.P x Fem!Reader

This would have been great to post on 420, but it’s October and I hit a 420 mark in my following – so guess what? It’s going up now. I’ve had this idea for a while, actually. One, because high Peter would probably be the cutest most paranoid person and two, because high Peter would probably be a sex god. You didn’t hear it from me, but high sex is probably the best and I want that with Peter.

Warning: smoking, cursing and smut 

Word Count: 2.5K

- - -

“Are you nervous?” you were sitting across a very nervous Peter. Crisscross apple sauce. The only sounds: the thumping of his heart and your own voice echoing in your ears. Peter nodded. But you already knew he was nervous from the way his chest fell and rose rapidly. 

Peter was a good and noble boy. He was Spider-Man, after all. You knew that. You respected his decisions to stay sober at parties; in case he got called in to ‘work’. Safe the world and what not. So, you tried it all for him. Shot of tequila? Check. Beer pong? Check. As long as Peter was your partner, you were happy to drink for the team.

But there was one thing you were curious about trying with Peter. Something you knew he’d benefit from, having seen the anxiety that overtook him after certain missions and patrolling sessions. And somehow, he had agreed. So here you were, currently sitting in your bathtub near the window. It was cracked opened to release the smell that was about to engulf your bodies. 

“Nothing to be nervous about,” you assured placing a hand on Peter’s knee. You felt like a bad influence. But you weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t feel the slightest bit satisfied with yourself. You were getting Peter to do something he’d never done; it was almost like taking his virginity. Something you were still salty about. 

Yes, Peter had sex. No, you did not take Peter’s virginity, but you really wished you had. But was that weird to say about your best friend? 

“So, how does this work?” Peter asked shifting his weight in the small tub. It was actually big, but not big enough for the two of you. Your hands were buried into the pockets of your oversized zip up hoodie. Peter watched you closely. In one hand, you held a pink lighter. He’d seen it around before, laying on the kitchen table but he’d assumed it belonged to one of your roommates. On the other hand, you held a thin brown stick. It reminded him of a cinnamon stick.

“It’s not cinnamon,” you joked watching his eyes focus on it. You were starting to feel nervous. You don’t know why. You’d done this before. But there was something about wide-eyed Peter, looking like a lost puppy Peter, that was really getting your heart pumping. More than usual.

“So, I’m going to start it. Don’t be scared,” your voice was gentle, like talking to a baby. Let’s be honest, Peter was baby. You locked eyes with Peter briefly, before angling the blunt upward. Your thumb flicking the lighter on.

Though the bathroom lights were on, the flame instantly brightened your face, leaving Peter in a trance. You looked like an angel? What a weird thing to think whilst committing an unholy act.

You brought the lighter close to the blunt, running the flame along the tip until you saw the sparks fly and heard the familiar crackling of the swisher. You dropped the lighter somewhere outside the tub, eager to finally share with Peter a little piece of heaven.  

Peter gulped, rubbing his hands on his thighs. He was nervous. But watching you calmly go through the routine of lighting the blunt somehow brought him a sense of calmness. That didn’t change the fact that he had no idea what to do. He’d never smoked, what the hell was he supposed to do?

You held the blunt between you thumb and index finger, bringing the brown stick to your lips which were slightly parted. Peter watched your lips wrap around the swisher. He was amazed. He knew you’d smoked before. But he could tell you weren’t a rookie by the way you inhaled smoothly, cheeks hallowed. And the way you exhaled the smoke through your nose, clouding your lips.

Your eyes were focused on Peter as you exhaled. Hand extending the blunt towards a very panicked Peter. A noise came out of Peter while his body retracted from the blunt as if it was going to bite him. “I don’t know how,” he mumbled.

“Just try,” you said shoving the blunt to him. His hands were trembling as he held on to it, the same way you had. He looked at it for a few seconds, probably giving himself a silent speech, before placing it between his lips. His brows furrowed. He inhaled shakily.  

He shoved the blunt back at you after his attempt at exhaling, but before you could grab the blunt, he was a coughing mess. His face buried in his arm trying to control his coughing. Your hands went up in alarm, as you moved closer to him. “Are you okay, Pete?” you asked, concerned. He nodded, head still buried in his arm, waving you off.

You felt horrible. But did you want to stop? Of course not. No, you hadn’t made a dent in the blunt. Plus, that weak puff Peter took wasn’t going to have the effect he was curious about. 

Suddenly, a lightbulb lit up above your head. Something you’d tried once before. Something that a beginner, like Peter, might be able to handle.

“Be ready to inhale,” you spoke keeping your eyes on him, making sure he processed the information. His throat was burning from the coughing and his eyes were slightly watery, but he nodded. Hands back on his thighs watching you bring the blunt to your lips. You inhaled as much smoke as possible, holding it.

Peter’s breath hitched feeling your face coming close. You were face to face. You were expecting Peter to open his mouth, ready to inhale, but he was stunned. You couldn’t hold the smoke any longer, so you cupped his face opening his mouth slightly motioning with your eyes for him to inhale.

Peter nodded. You exhaled watching the smoke disappear behind Peter’s lips. He inhaled. Barely. Some of the smoke escaping between your faces. He needed to inhale at the same rate you exhaled and this had been a total fail. But you reminded yourself, patience. 

“Let’s do it again,” you stated repeating the motion of inhaling the smoke. You held it, supporting your weight by holding on to Peter’s shoulder bringing him closer. Face to face, lips parted, you exhaled into his mouth. Peter, having learned from before, inhaled slowly keeping up with you.

Peter cleared his throat, “I think I got it that time.”

You smiled, eyes shining with accomplishment. You knew it wasn’t going to take much for Peter to be high. This was his first time, after all. So, if he was going to be high high, so were you. You took another puff from the blunt, watching Peter’s eye linger on you. His tongue was slightly peeking through his teeth and you watched him intensely as you inhaled and exhaled on his face.

“Want to try on your own again?” you asked handing the blunt to him. But he shook his head. He didn’t want to have another coughing fit.

“Let’s try that thing again,” he replied eagerly motioning with his hands between your bodies. You chuckled, nodding your head approvingly before positioning yourself so your knees were touching his, face to face.

The smoke disappeared into Peter’s mouth. Unlike last time, you were a lot closer to him. So much so that your lips almost touched. Almost.

It hadn’t been more than a few minutes and few more hits from the blunt, that you started to notice Peter’s attention slip.

What you didn’t know was that Peter was tingling all over. It was almost like his spidey senses were heightened. He was alert; he could see the underlying vibrant hues of your maroon hoodie, he could hear the beating of your heart thumping at ease, his fingertips felt funny, and the smell of the weed floating around your bathroom was potent. But at the same time, he felt like he was fading into nothing. His chest felt tight. But he felt – simply put – ecstatic. Relaxed. And giggly. Very very gliggly.

And you couldn’t help but join right in the soft laughter that was filling up your bathroom.

You were drifting into your own little world when you felt something on your cheek. Your eyes shot open, chest beating hard from the sudden contact. Only to realize it was Peter, a very high Peter, touching your face. His eyes were concentrated in the motion of his fingertips dancing on your cheek. Like you were a new found species.

“You’re so soft,” Peter mumbled brushing your face with his knuckles. You laughed, but simultaneously felt your chest tighten. Maybe from the weed, or maybe from the fact that Peter was right here. High in your bathroom, touching your damn face like it was the softest blanket in the world.

It was like this unseen force was pulling you close to him. Like his fingertips were pleading to come closer. To close the gap that was shared. Then you remembered how his lips almost touched yours and you felt the sudden tingle all over your body, traveling all the way down between your legs. This time, you were sure it was more than just the weed.

The pull was overbearing. Consuming your every thought, and there were a lot of thoughts going through your head at this moment. And Peter, well Peter’s other hand was on your shoulder kneading at the fabric of your hoodie. Hand slightly curling up to cup your neck. A big goofy smile on his face, his eyes glazed over, eyebrows curved in bliss.

The gravitational pull won. Your lips brushed against his softly. Peter wasn’t sure if it was the fuzzy feeling from being high or if it was actually your lips. But he wanted to find out. He tilted his head towards yours, his lips capturing yours gently. Lips pressed against each other. No movement. Just contact. Peter’s lips were soft like cotton candy and just as sweet. Maybe sweeter.

You melted into his touch. His hand still caressing your cheek, the other cupping the back of your neck as his lips started moving. The kiss was tentative before tongues joined. Sloppily kissing, mingling, and familiarizing themselves with one another. A silent introduction – apart from the heavy breathing.

Your hands weaved into his hair as your body hovered over his; his head tilting back adjusting to your movements. You felt one of his hands tugging at your hoodie. Without hesitation, you let go of his hair fumbling with the fabric of your hoodie; you wanted it off. Right now.

You knew what was happening right now. But it was also like your brain didn’t know. It was like you were thinking with your body rather than your brain. You wanted to feel his skin on yours. His fingertips on every part of your body. You were aching for his touch. His fingertips were fire on your cheek, yet you longed for more.

After discarding your hoodie somewhere behind you, you overpowered Peter. Straddling his waist, your weight pushed on his as your lips connected and reconnected in a needier kiss. Ravenous.

You had sex before. You had high sex before. Nothing compared to the out-of-body experience of having sex while high. And right now, you wanted Peter to experience that for the first time. With you.

“Are you sure, Pete?” you whispered against his lips feeling his hands grip your ass moving your hips on his groin. His eyes were blood shot, lips puffy, as he nodded his head whispering yes before capturing your lips once again.

You shivered feeling the cold of the bathtub on your back, nipples erect against his chest. But the feeling of him, buried deep in you, made you feel warm. You hadn’t been in this position for more than a few minutes and you felt yourself closing in around Peter. The overwhelming feeling of your high mixed with the repeated thrusts against your g-spot had you seeing stars. You were on cloud 9, despite being pressed against the cold marble of your tub.

Peter had his eyes shut closed; bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he held your leg around his waist. His thrusts were long and slow, you could feel every ridge of his cock. He’d almost completely pull out before pushing back in against your cervix. You could almost feel the sweet release. The feeling was unbearable, yet so pleasurable.

You remembered how it felt to be on top of him just a few minutes before. Hips rocking as your walls molded around his cock. His hands gripping your ass, hips raising matching your movements every so often. You thought nothing could be better than the feeling of bouncing on him as he buried his face in your neck. But you were wrong. You were so wrong because this new position, though plain, was fueling your entire being.

It was like your soul had left your body, but you were still there. Peter was making you feel things you couldn’t explain. How was it possible for sweet, innocent Peter to make you feel this way? 

Peter was close, too. You could feel the grip on your thigh tightening as his thrusts grew slower, but harder. Slamming into you like there was no tomorrow. Just you and him in this moment, forever.

Your fingernails dug into his back; lips pressed against his shoulder. Your whimpers and moans muffled by his sweaty skin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the tightness; the need to release and unravel under his touch. Your hips moved against his, matching his thrusts and a low groan escaped Peter’s lips.

A string of curses mixed with your name slipped through his lips as you felt him twitch; your pussy clenching around his cock as you felt yourself coming undone. The built up hit you like a truck, train. Fireworks went off. You’d completely exited your body and had transported to a mystical world.

The weight of Peter’s body on yours brought you back to reality. The soft breathing, the hard beating of his heart on your chest. Bliss. You felt sheer bliss.

“Did we?” Peter asked, not because he was uncertain, but because he wanted this to be real. He wanted to know this wasn’t a dream.

“Yeah,” you breathed holding his body close, staring at your ceiling. It was still just your ceiling and you were still just in your bathroom. But it was different. Things around you were different. The color of your pink shower curtain was brighter, the smell of the air freshener was potent mixed with the remnants of the weed, the sound of Peter’s heavy breathing was louder yet harmonious, Peter’s body pressed on yours felt warmer, and the taste of his salty skin was intoxicating. You weren’t sure if it was the effect of the weed or the effect of Peter.

The feeling of Peter’s lips on your neck were reassuring as you faded into your thoughts. Thoughts about everything, yet nothing at all.

Either way you felt at ease. Uplifted. And maybe you were a bad influence, but being with Peter was far from bad. It was just as euphoric as smoking weed. Maybe, even better.

-

masterlist

[polymathemawrites]

Hungover in the City of Dust Part 2

CW: depictions of broken bones, drug use (via the HEV suit), mentions of former sexual partners, guns, consumption of alcohol

Flashback with us to the year 2000 where Gordon is a useless bisexual with a huge ass crush and hasn't yet been fucked around with by eldritch abominations with briefcases

also featured: a section that looks vaguely like a songfic, do you guys remember songfics? wow so old

part one is here read below for part two

He broke his arm, he thinks. Looking down at it does nothing to help him determine this because it's in the HEV suit, but it's also in the HEV suit at a very inhuman angle. He's not that kind of doctor, so he doesn't know, but again he's pretty sure. The refrain of 'morphine administered' hums through and he staggers a bit.

Dr. Cross' voice says something, and he is forced to loop his finger in the air to get her to repeat herself, her understanding of ASL isn't as strong as some of the other AnMat members but he can get his point across easy enough.

"I asked if you wished to stop the simulation, Dr. Freeman."

He shakes his head.

It takes a further half an hour of training and the chemicals that the suit chooses to pump him with cause him to vomit up his lunch but they clear it.

He is beaming with pride, his arm in a sling when he meets an off-duty Barney Calhoun at the bar in the town above ground and a bus-ride away. The one Barney loved most, with the fake UFO constructed on the roof and the bigfoot pictures on the walls.

"Hole-lee shit, what happened to you, doc?"

Gordon makes him order him a drink from the bar and return before he signs out a heavily edited version of events, the REDACTED blanks nearly hang in the air between them.

But I'll be fine in a few days, it's not as bad as it looks.

Barney takes a sip of his PBR and Gordon's eyes immediately track the way his throat works around it, the wide-breadth of his chest in the plain black t-shirt he's wearing. Due to experience with Barney's limited wardrobe he knows he's wearing the same worn Levis he always wears, and that his uniform boots are what those jeans are tucked into.

Gordon reaches out and drags the menu of bar appetizers over in front of him even though he has it memorized at this point. Something to do with his eyes that isn't stare at Barney Calhoun like an idiot.

He sips his hard apple cider and listens to Barney give him a less redacted version of his day's events - the usual, who locked themselves out of their office, who stole whose lunch, who broke the elevator. Gordon snorted and stopped him, holding his hand up.

The elevator just hangs so whoever hits the button is not who breaks it, Barn.

He could finger-spell Barney, he could, but using the English Sign for Barn/Shed the first time had caused Barney to laugh so hard he choked, so he's done it since.

"I don't know doc, I think it's a pretty good working hypothesis."

Gordon laughs again, the same huffy silent breath, the sound makes Barney's eyes light up, his frankly devastatingly attractive face break out in a sweet smile.

No more hypotheticals from you.

Gordon touches him, a lot maybe, the more drinks he gets in him the more tactile he gets, eventually he slides into the same booth as Barney when he comes back from the bathroom, makes an excuse about how it will be easier for him to see the book Barney has bought from the similarly themed book-store next door to the bar. He laughs at the bad science, points it out and corrects it, and makes Barney laugh or huff and try badly to defend whatever not-a-scientist researcher has to say. Barney holds his PBR, cheap-ass fake piss water for babies, far more than Gordon holds his alcoholic apple juice for toddlers, so that when they do hitch the bus back to the compound, Barney has Gordon's arm slung around his shoulders.

Barney doesn't live in the underground, but he follows Gordon all the way to his rooms - or rather he shepherds him all the way there, together they manage with the door lock mechanism and despite it being a massive breach of security, it's Barney who inputs the numerical code to open the door in the end when Gordon can't seem to manage.

Deposited on the cheap mass-produced couch, Gordon kicks off his shoes and pulls his khaki-clad legs underneath himself while Barney messes around in the tiny kitchenette. Gordon had worked himself up to having the seniority enough to get his own kitchenette, it was a crowning achievement here at Black Mesa. Even if you didn't cook for shit, having a kitchenette meant you were considered a vital enough investment to be allowed a heating element in your dorm that wasn't a coffee maker.

It was a bit like perpetually living in a motel, when one thought about it. Less the college life and more hundreds of identical suites.

Barney crashes down next to him and shoves a glass of water at Gordon's chest. It doesn't manage to slosh and Gordon notes that Barney has even politely put a neon-pink bendy straw in it just for him.

He sips the water obediently and Barney puts his feet up on the coffee table.

He wants very badly to turn Barney's face toward him, to see that soft please smile up close. He wants even more to press forward, chase the taste of blue ribbon from the edges of his lips, follow deeper. He wants to drag his hands - or hand as the case may be tonight - over Barney's broad chest, the softness of his stomach, the stretch of his shoulders. Maybe five years ago he would have. If he'd met Barney when he was in college, not that it was at all likely seeing as Barney went to school on the entire opposite side of the country but still. Definitely not now that Barney was, is, the best friend he's ever had.

They'd hit it off like wild-fire from day one, Barney getting his dry and dark humor and Gordon obliging his conspiracy theories and charming warmth. A few months in and Barney had invited him to sneak onto a roof in the middle of the night, Gordon had come, half expecting Barney to confront him on Gordon's feelings. Instead there had been a cooler of beer, a blanket stretched out on the ground, and Barney's grin. Gordon told him the names of constellations and Barney made some up. UFO watching, except it's mostly star-gazing, and Barney didn't confront him, hasn't yet, but he also hasn't closed the distance between them either.

Gordon isn't open about his sexuality, but he's had boyfriends and girlfriends both, and one memorable night in which he had been propositioned at a bar by a couple and had ended up the very intimate meat in a sandwich.

When he puts the water glass down and reaches out to rest his hand upon Barney's arm, the guard turns his gaze from the ceiling to Gordon's face - his smile still easy and open.

He's a coward, he doesn't move in, he doesn't press his lips to Barney's smile, doesn't trace the curve with his tongue.

Gonna head to bed, you can camp on the couch if you want.

"Thanks Gord, I think I will." Barney pats him on the leg, makes him take the water to the bedroom with him.

He finishes half of the water while he sways on his feet, undressing and leaving the clothes he strips to the floor. He puts the arm sling on the bedside table and studies the bruising on his mending arm. The bone had been a clean break and a cleaner thing to heal for the mess of chemicals and other things. He didn't pretend to think he understood what it was that Black Mesa was working with that could heal a broken bone. Or where they got the samples they worked with in AnMat. He wasn't paid to think about where anything came from, only to get excited over the prospect of working with it, and he was - is. His college thesis has already been expanded on here, exponentially. There is so much to observe, so much to theorize on and then potentially prove or disprove.

He loves his job, really he does, he knows he is honored to be working here.

But breaking a bone hurts like a bitch. He curls up on his side and clicks off the light, remembers to remove his glasses only after he's already smashed them into his face via the pillow. He thinks about Barney removing his boots and jeans in the other room, about the months they've spent going to that bar or sneaking places they probably shouldn't. Lauren Calhoun hugging him and thanking him for keeping her brother out of trouble. It was her birthday soon, Gordon knew because Barney was at a loss for what to get her. Gordon's suggestion of flowers had been taken well, he only hoped Barney knew what she was and wasn't allergic to.

Gordon is allergic to dandelions, not that they were a flower usually used in bouquets, they were a weed, but still. Not that anyone had ever even gotten him flowers? Not even Kyle, although it wasn't as if they were open about their relationship anyway. When Kyle told him he was getting married but that didn't mean they needed to stop fucking, Gordon had politely ended it with him. Gordon had really wanted to deck Kyle and call him a bastard but well, the ever-present anger simmering under the surface had never exploded yet and Gordon was a patient man, maybe he never would - fated instead to go on in life with a steady undercurrent of seething rage. Was that actually normal? He didn't know to be honest.

He's thinking of what flowers Barney would get him, when he falls asleep.

You look like, a perfect fit, for a girl in need of a tourniquet.

Gordon sways along to Aimee Mann in the shower, eyes shut and head tilted up to the shower's spray, washing his hair with one hand.

But can you save me, come on and save me.

Gordon prefers vinyl but the bathroom isn't the place for his record player, so he listens to the CD he mail-ordered. He hasn't actually seen Magnolia, but he's listened to the soundtrack on repeat more than once while working. It fits his hangover just fine today.

If you could save me, from the ranks of the freaks, who suspect they could never love anyone.

He hangs his head down for the rinse, mouths out the words as the hot-hot water slides soap over his shoulders. There is a bang on the door and Barney's informal, "I'm comin' in."

Over Aimee Mann's voice crooning out Gordon's emotional state of being a perpetual bachelor in need of affection and human connection is the sound of Barney getting ready for work, swishing Gordon's mouth-wash, cleaning his face, flushing the toilet. "If you stay in there much longer you're gonna be late again, Gord." Barney warns him.

Gordon flips him off by sticking his hand out of the curtain and Barney laughs before letting himself out.

Except the freaks who could never love anyone.

When Gordon goes to run out the door, shoving his arm back into the sling and gathering the read-outs he'd dropped off before heading out to the bar he notices the cup of coffee Barney had made for him, waiting right there next to the door.

It is painfully domestic and Gordon sips his coffee as the tram carries him toward AnMat, perfectly sweetened and mellowed out with a heavy scoop of non-dairy creamer. Creamer of which Barney liked to tell him could cause cancer, even while putting it in his coffee for him, but if Gordon is going to get cancer from anything it will likely be a computer monitor. Also, Barney drinks his coffee plain and black which clearly means he has no soul or taste buds.

The guard who lets him out at the tram is named Harold, which Gordon knows because he's beat him at beer pong in the Security dorms above ground an undetermined amount of times. "Did Barney hook up in town or was he slumming it down with you guys?"

Gordon grins at him which is answer enough, he raises his cup of coffee to the man when he keys in the code for him and does the retinal scan. Some days more of the security staff will talk to him than the science staff and he knows he owes that to Barney, who had somehow decided he belonged at their weekly gatherings. He wonders sometimes what they think of him, if he's the weird mute nerd, or if he's actually been accepted as it seems he has.

The guard on the front desk gives him his messages, Dr. Vance wants to check in with him on the training yesterday and his request to use the supercomputer to run computations has gone through. When he throws the empty paper cup over his shoulder and effortlessly lands it in the waste bin on his way out it is to a short shout of excitement from the guard and the combined looks of annoyance and confusion from the loitering scientists and techs. This is probably why he 1. wins at beer pong all the time and 2. has more contact with the security team than his own.

He scarfs down a cold poptart in the break room and buys a bottle of overpriced water from the machine because he's starting to actually consider Barney's theory about the onsite water treatment facility putting mind-altering drugs into the tap water. The aging microwave hasn't given up yet but whenever he microwaves his poptarts someone looks at him weird and points out the perfectly working toaster.

He's just setting up at his desk to bring up the schedule for the supercomputer when Dr. Vance enters and shuts the door behind him, not actually the usual protocol for a meeting, Gordon instantly worries he's messed something up and the older man is going to gently berate him outside of earshot of the rest of AnMat. He wasn't THAT late!

What did I do?

Dr. Vance's kind face immediately takes on a rather guilty appearance, "No, no Gor- Doctor Freeman, you're fine. I just heard what happened during your training simulation yesterday and wanted to check on you." Gordon is aware that Eli Vance is a father, he's never met his child but he has been the recipient of a few nearly fatherly interactions with the man. Relief pours over him as he realizes he is just being worried after and hasn't messed up an equation or something serious.

I'm fine.

"You know, if it gets too much, you can always pause your training." Dr. Vance says it gently like it's not the most terrifying thing Gordon has ever considered. Months, they'd lose months of time, would have to train someone else and no one is even near Gordon's placement. He has been training with the HEV suit and anomalous environments for months now, he's the youngest scientist in AnMat. He had literally been physically training for half a year already, numb with horror he shakes his head and something in his expression must be less blank than he'd like it to be, because Dr. Vance gives a soft sigh, "The tests will wait, Gordon, you have to think about yourself too."

I'm fine. He signs it harder this time.

"You don't have to burn yourself out, you're young yet."

Gordon wants to tell him he's not that much younger than him, that just because he's married and has a kid and has seniority in AnMat, just because Gordon is a shut in who wont kiss his best friend, doesn't mean Gordon needs someone to tell him he doesn't have to break his body to pieces to prove a point. Because he knows that's what this is, it's the time the professor he was TA to had to take him aside in his office, hand warm and comforting on Gordon's shoulder and told him he wasn't going to green-light Gordon's request to double up his classes. He could have graduated two years earlier, damn it!

Thank you Dr. Vance, your concern is very kind. But I really am fine.

Smile, smile through the rage boiling under the surface. Dr. Vance gives up with a kind smile and a shrug of the shoulders.

The rage stays, all through his early morning meetings, the equations he runs on the supercomputer, lunch taken in silence, and the remaining hours spent running computations on the newest materials borrowed from Lambda. The frustration mounts when Dr. Keller, who doesn't know ASL, comes to 'discuss' his work on the last batch of materials and 'really this one equation just seems off' and he has to use the white-board to argue with the man, not argue, discuss their disagreement passively and with an objective toward polite reconciliation and a working resolution. Dr. Keller cuts Gordon off a few times, hard to do when Gordon is mute, and yet.

He excuses himself when it proves that Dr. Keller is too fucking stupid to admit he's wrong, doing so with a polite smile and and an apologetic wave. Takes his lab results and himself and shuts everything out in his office.

Barney must have gone everywhere looking for him, when he finds Gordon in the security dorm's gym, running his rage out on the treadmill he looks a little out of breath.

"Want to hit the shooting range with me?" Barney asks, as if he knows, as if just by looking at Gordon's carefully passive face, tense shoulders, and discarded arm sling, what a shit awful day he's had.

He dumps the arm sling in the trash on the way out, his arm aches down to the very bone and they told him to rest it for a week but the break is mended and the bruises are hidden by the long sleeve of his sweater so whose to say he was even hurt at all? He catches Barney looking at his arm a few times but the guard, his friend, says nothing about it all through the shooting range.

It was a rarity, that they do this. Gordon had asked Barney to teach him when he'd followed him in a few too many times during a conversation and had to wait. Something more to do with his hands, and the familiar motions center him as he checks the chamber and loads the beretta m9. Barney leans carefully in the opening of the booth behind him as Gordon unloads five of the fifteen rounds perfectly into the center of the moving target. The security staff who had seen him shoot had told him his mantra of 'it's just physics' was bullshit but that's really all it was. Computational math of trajectory and environmental input. There wasn't anything like windspeed in the firing range, but the few times he'd gone with Barney to the open-air range in town had been similarly (un)spectacular for Gordon.

His body feels loose after the guns are checked back in and the sweat has dried on his skin. Barney trails alongside him through the quiet tunnels of Black Mesa, toward the Science housing. "I'm sure glad we're friends so when you inevitably go postal I might survive." Barney is grinning at him, and Gordon smirk softly back at him.

He doesn't have to ask Barney inside, the guard follows him in too, and before Gordon can offer him a drink, Barney shocks him.

Gordon is tactile, he touches people, mostly unconsciously. Grounds himself in physicality and has always been a kinetic learner, retaining information by doing. In contrast Barney largely keeps his hands to himself. Over the months he's opened up with Gordon, yeah, but when he gently takes Gordon's arm in his strong sure hands, it is completely unexpected. Barney pushed his sleeve up, all the way to his elbow and Gordon stares down in numb shock. The bruising is ugly and mottled on his pale freckled skin, contrasted with the tan of Barney's hands it looks even worse.

"Gord, you gotta take care of yourself." When Barney says this it does not cause the same stream of anger to flow down his throat. It is a thrill of cool ice-water down his spine, a tingle along his nerve endings, makes his stomach clench up and get all fluttery at once. "Lets get some ice on this for twenty minutes and then put a heating pack on it, this has to be hurting you."

It does hurt, but with Barney's gentle hands holding his arm, he can barely feel it. They should bottle this up, Barney's warm concern, because it does more for Gordon than 10 mgms of morphine does, fuck.

Barney sets him down on the couch and puts a bag of frozen green beans on his arm. They watch a bootleg tape of MST3K Gordon swapped on the underground tape-trading circuit while Barney carefully times out alternating heating pad and frozen vegetable usage. Eventually Gordon starts to fall asleep to the sound of Tom Servo crooning out 'Creepy Girl' only rousing when he feels Barney's hand gently brush his hair back.

It feels so good that he closes his eyes and leans into it, so Barney does it again, gently carding his fingers through Gordon's hair. If he wasn't so bone-deep exhausted he might even be freaking out about this right now, but Barney is touching him and doesn't seem like it's something weird.

He blinks over at his friend in the light provided by the tv screen and the kitchenette's overhead. Warm smile, soft eyes, dark hair and five-o-clock shadow. Barney ruffles up his hair and finally removes his hand, "You need to eat something."

Probably.

But all he wants to do is sleep. So he doses off while Barney does something in his kitchen. He listens to it, pots and knife to chopping board. He doesn't even remember what he has in the half-fridge but Barney must have found whatever something is. When he presents Gordon with a bowl of ramen that has been beefed up with a soft boiled egg and vegetables he isn't too surprised.

Thanks.

He laughs silently and Barney settles down to eat his own bowl, they watch the end of the tape and Gordon turns off the white-noise static of the TV.

"So, whatcha doin' this weekend?" Barney asks him.

Nothing yet, what do you have in mind?

Barney grins at him softly and Gordon turns his attention to the noodles floating in cheap broth, because if he keeps looking at Barney right now, he might do something really stupid. Might do something like close the distance and kiss him or ask Barney to please touch his hair again because he thinks he could get addicted to that feeling if he isn't already, he is though. Barney is terribly easy to get addicted to.

[grumpygreenwitch]

Summer Gardening.

So it’s been a while, and for that I apologize to the... 200+ people who follow me. I’m sure y’all are here for the cat pics and the nekked men, but TOO BAD. Today you get to suffer through pics of my green children. Also, I do share seed. My seed list link will be up later in the year. To begin with, the summer flowers are out en force:

Echinacea Purpurea, the original echinacea. I do save yearly seed from these guys, although it’s an incredibly pointy, stabby and bleed-y job. 

Mountain Phlox. Unfortunately, all of it around the house is afflicted with powdery mildew, so I will not share seed. But it’s still pretty to look at, and the clearwings (hummingbird moths) love it. Not pictured is the white variant, who grows on the other side of the house. Look, it was hot and I was already melting.

Peppermint Balsam. This thing is basically indestructible, for an annual. It will reseed freely (to truly Lovecraftian levels) and blooms continuously from late spring until mid-fall, when the seed-pods set. There is a dormant genetic in it for double flowers, but when it pops up it’s always been sterile. It just pops up occasionally from the peppermint seed.

I may give the roommate hell over the hostas (I hate them. They’re so useful to protect toads and control weeds, but I hate them), but they do put out pretty flowers. There are several variants around the house - white-edged, blue and green, but hostas in general are very, very hard to start from seed. I will save it on request, only. We were also incredibly lucky to have a Moth Mullein sprout in our porch bed, along with some Variegated Solomon’s Seal.The SS doesn’t put out seeds, and I don’t have enough to share bulbs (yet), but the mullein has been exceptionally generous with seed pods, and it repels bugs. It repels ROACHES. It’s going everywhere. And I may be convinced to part with some seed.

Onward!

A view from a hill. Can you see the garden? That’s OK, I can’t either. Those are peach trees, on the side of the orchard closest to the house. Unfortunately a freak storm during early spring killed all the blossoms. Also, don’t mistake ‘orchard’ for ‘organized’. There’s a pear, some apples, a plum, some nectarines? And front and center are two walnuts. I’ll probably be plunking my laurel there to see if it survives winter. And someday when I have a job and money again, I would like to drop a few Chicago Hardy figs, and maybe a kiwi trellis.

This is the big garden (and fortunately not my responsibility, or I would cry). The guys are ‘handling’ it. The weeds say otherwise.

The jasmine tree and the roommate’s garden. Because of a bad back injury that refuses to heal, I’ve been helping them on and off with it. And if you thought jasmine was supposed to stay a delightful little bush, AHAHAHAHAH. Yes, that’s a light-post next to it. For size comparison.

MY CHILDREN. Please ignore the dead soccer ball. That’d be a dog toy.

Lemon balm, amaranth, and a new bed that I’ll be finishing off during fall, for use next year. The lemon balm is a permanent row - it will overwinter just fine, and it will even keep growing through the mildest part of December. Mine didn’t die back until a few solid days of sleet in January. Unfortunately the weed fabric under the amaranth turned out to be an old roll, and fell apart on me (no big, the whole point is for it to fall apart eventually), so the weeds have kinda eaten it alive.

Unfortunately, both cucumber beetles and blister beetles love the amaranth. Fortunately, it does not seem to give a damn. It’s an incredibly resilient plant, not minding weeds, bugs, flood or drought. We’ll see what the grain actually tastes like, but so far it’s looking like a good candidate for continuous growing.

The lemon balm is lemon-balming. Planted on a lark, it’s proven to be a fantastic wind-breaker - because it grows so early and so quick, it keeps the colder winds that come down through the hollow from my more fragile seedlings, like the lettuce, dill and cilantro. You can see here where the spent flower-heads are dying but there’s new growth underneath; I really have to get in there and behead it. It makes nice hot tea, meh cold tea, and hanging fresh bunches of it around the balcony keeps the skeeters off. It also seems to be a decoy for cabbage moths.

Canary Zinnia. The seed was sent to me as a gift with one of my seed orders, and this is my first year growing it. -If- I can save some, I’ll definitely be sharing and growing again. It’s a lovely plant, very sturdy, and the bees love it.

Dwarf Castor Oil. I don’t think there’s anything dwarf about it, but then I’m a short green witch myself, so maybe it’s all about perspective. Don’t let the pods lie to you, until they dry the spikes are relatively soft. However, it being castor oil, I don’t recommend it to anyone with ducks, chickens, goats, or anything that might accidentally try talking a nibble or pecking at the beans. I do, however, recommend them from jewelry if you know how to pierce things and so on. They are a gorgeous tiger-stripe pattern.

Say hello to the chard! Say goodbye to the chard! Nothing else, absolutely nothing else since the limas, has given me so much trouble. The deer love getting into my chard bed and destroying it (ergo all the forks). And once I managed to chase those off, the blister beetles showed up in force. This will be the last year I grow it - we just don’t eat enough of it to make it worth my while, and it only occasionally sold at the Farmers’ Market.

Red lettuce - Merlot and Lollo Vino, a combination of bought and saved seed. I planted a red romaine of some sort, too, but unsurprisingly it bolted in the heat. The darker reds of my favorites, though, keep bugs off them, keep deer from noticing them, and keep them from bolting. It’s just now threatening to, and at this point its kind of allowed. I need more seed for next year. Seed for this will likely be shared by the teaspoon-ful.

Calendula! I searched for a long time to find the plain ol’ calendula officinalis ancestor, rather than a cultivar where I would have no way of knowing if the medicinal principles would have been sacrificed for looks. It’s supposed to work well as poor man’s saffron (color, no taste), and I’m going to be soaking the heck outta my feet on it during winter. The plant is... not pretty. It gets leggy and the leaves get grotty very quickly. But it’s very sturdy and as long as you cut the flowerheads off as fast as you can, it’ll keep blooming until well into winter. I usually leave it to go to seed around late September.

Green cilantro seeds. You pick ‘em when they’re brown, but before they drop off the plant. Or you pick ‘em when they’re brown-ing, and put them in a paper bag so they’ll finish ripening there and you don’t end up with fifty wild cilantro plants in your garden >_> Most of the row is already gone, and I’ll be putting in a late dill crop in its place. No such thing as too  much dill!

Don’t let lemongrass lie to you. Unless you tie it up, it will not grow up neat and tidy, as most grass does. Instead it will sprawl like a dramatic wilting Elizabethan lady and do its best to end up under your feet so you’ll feel bad about it. I just tie it up with a half-blade of grass; it dries up and withers away before it can hurt the plant.

I ordered pennyroyal seed because... Well, because it’s something one should have on hand, considering the way the world is going. What I got was Creeping Pennyroyal, which doesn’t care if you step on it (mint family), smells absolutely delightful, and has the most adorable, tiny purple flowers. I plan on harvesting, drying and sprinkling it everywhere in the crawlspace under the house. Making war on cave crickets, wood roaches, and other such sundries, me.

The thyme and Spicy Oregano took a beating in the heat, but they’re slowly bouncing back. The bed behind them is more pennyroyal, desperately in need of weeding, but there’s only one of me, y’know.

SIGH. Just. You absolute, ill-mannered monster of a creature. That would be horseradish, gloriously happy to be alive, as horseradish should be. Also, NOT IN ITS BASKET. Because never mind the rules, I guess.

I don’t even know how I’m gonna dig that up come winter. With some construction equipment, I GUESS. 

Decorative gourd! It’s the only one producing so far, but being the seed was 10+ years old, I’m very pleased.

And an apple gourd (I think?), from a mixture of drying gourds that was only slightly less ancient. Snake, apple and birdhouse gourds. There’s a bunch of them competing in the basket at this point, we’ll see what we will see.

And this, I think, is a great use of a dead canopy frame (the dogs ate the canopy. No, I’m not making it up.) I hope to coax the gourds to grow me a lil’ roof so I can sit in shade, surrounded by pennyroyal anti-skeeter barriers, eating my maters.

My Peter Peppers (nrehehehehe) aren’t producing yet - it takes them a while. But my Chinese 5-Color are getting started. It’s a lovely pepper, both edible and ornamental, with (so I’m told) about four times the heat of a Jalapeno. They’re tiny, with deep purple undertones to the plant. They’ll go purple-white-yellow-orange-red.

The bullhorns, on the other hand, are fairly sizable SWEET peppers on very tiny plants, and I honestly suggest staking them while they’re young so they grow a sturdy trunk, else you might end up with all of them growing at a slant.They’re just now beginning to turn colors. Keeping in mind I’m virulently allergic to peppers (less so sweet than hot, but allergic to all of them), the roommate loves ‘em.

It’s a small pepper bed - mainly to refresh my seed on the hots, and to grow sweets for the roommate. Pardon the nekked bed, the autumn lettuce hasn’t sprouted yet. And yes, that’s a mixed basil/dill bed next to it. My basil grew in patchy holes (NEVER buying from those seed people again), so I filled the holes with dill. Unfortunately, dill seed heads are so fine that they’re hard to photograph well.

The tomato row. After arguing with them for this long, I went the extra mile. Every plant has a metal stake. There’s also a double line growing at the top supporting the stakes so they don’t fall over. And they still fell over. Because why not, you unruly children, why not.

Green, white, pink and brown cherry tomatoes. Delicious!

Two kinds of cucumbers, some of the only decent shots of the dill seed-heads, and a special guest hiding in the shade. I usually plant dill as soon as the cucumber sprouts, to keep cucumber beetles off it. Otherwise I’d have no cucumbers and a lot of fat beetles.

The Muncher is a small cucumber, somewhat delicate. It’s very sensitive to temperature changes, and it’s candy to cucumber beetles - basically, it’s impossible to grow it without a heavy curtain of dill, or a heavy duty decoy. This year I got lucky enough to have both. It’s also delicious pickled, keeping its crunch and getting a good ooomph in flavor.

The Japanese Long is, as the name implies, long. It’s also incredibly bitey, and absolutely scrumptious. It’s sweet! And unlike the average cucumber, it does not go metallic when salted.

And now for the SPECIAL CHILD OF MY HEART. Seriously. I have been lusting after Blue Tea Peas since I first saw them offered, and every single time they’d be sold out pretty much the day of. This year I finally got some and... remember me mentioning that freak freeze that killed the peach blossoms? Yeah. Guess what it also killed. But two plants soldiered on. I have them heavily shielded by the cucumbers, dill and chamomile, and really I have no words for the blue. Pics don’t do it justice. I won’t have the tea this year, I’m saving as much seed as I can, but I am so pleased to have it at all!

 Last, but not least, and it’s a poor shot of it, the chamomile. I cannot drink chamomile to sleep - it does put me to sleep, but it also gives me bad dreams. I plan on using it as a skin wash for all the bug bites, along with the calendula, and to give me some respite from dry skin during winter.

Stay green! See you in fall! Now back to our normal schedule of frogs, cats and nekked men!