#i just needed those 4th of July shorts to complete it and I think I fd up by not getting them

[introspectionera]

ok everyone I’m sorry but I think I’m in fall mode now

[kirk-says-wah]

Hello hello ☎️

I have a request for you that is possibly a little silly or maybe awful? You decide.

Picture this: a 4th of July Party, at Jason's house, in 1992.

James (an idiot) is in the kitchen alone and tries to open a beer bottle with his teeth, but oh no! He breaks his tooth in the process! While the party is happening outside!

Please expand on this, how will they all sort it out? What will James do? Who will help him? Will he cry? I give you complete creative control.

anyway I love you and hope you're doing good! 🫂💖

Ahhh Julian!! *hugs you* thank you for the request! This was fun to write! I’m so sorry, this turned out sappier than I intended 😆💕

𝐓𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐢𝐥

Pairing: James/Jason

This party is shit.

Jason’s sound system is only half working, there’s hardly any girls, and someone’s already threw up in the living room.

James only came because Jason said “dude it’s gonna be the best fucking party you’ve ever been to,” and he doesn’t go to Jason’s house much, they always go over to James’ house. He also can’t resist Jason with those goddamn puppy eyes.

He’s cramped himself in the kitchen to grab a piece of alone time before having to go out and face the group. He’s not drunk but he’s fairly tipsy. Some shit techno pop is pounding the walls, and he wonders if maybe he should sneak out or something.

Or maybe he just needs to get more drunk.

The other guys are in the garden, mingling with the rest of the crowd, and James knows that he definitely needs to drink more if he wants to fit in. He’s never been good at making small talk. Even when he’s a fucking rock god. That’s always the downside to these kind of parties. He’s only good at talking about his band, but even then most people don’t really give a fuck.

He sighs, grabbing a beer from the fridge, fucking Coors Light, and twists at the cap with fingers.

The top doesn’t budge.

He frowns, tries again, but still it’s not going anywhere.

Great. This is just what he needs.

He tries to get his frustration under control and tries to flip the cap off to no avail, so he does the only thing he can think of.

He brings the beer up to his mouth, tries to pry the metal top off with his teeth, when all of a sudden there’s a resounding crack, and his mouth goofs the bottle, a sharp pain emanating through the front of his teeth.

Shit. Shit fuck shit shit bastard.

He puts his finger in his mouth, swipes over the front set of teeth, only to find one considerably shorter than the rest, the edges jagged and broken.

James takes in a deep breath. Okay maybe this isn’t as bad as he thinks. Maybe no one will even notice.

He puts his beer on the side before going back into the main room, twisting between swaying bodies until he’s in the bathroom.

There’s a couple kissing in there, but with one wave of his hand they’re out of there quicker than lighting. James smirks to himself. Sometimes he loves the power he holds over people.

He locks the door before finally standing in front of the mirror, ignoring his unkempt hair. He lifts up his top lip with his fingers.

Yep. It’s as bad as he thought. His front tooth is so short it almost looks like it’s not there, leaving a dark hole.

He swears, drops his fingers before giving a feigned smile.

Nope that’s no better.

He sighs, white knuckling the sink. He tries to think who he can go to to help him.

Lars won’t be any help. He’d just laugh at him and cause a scene.

Kirk isn’t much help when he’s sober, but he’s already mostly drunk so he’d be no better.

Which leaves him with Jason. Fuck. Jason will probably laugh too but out of the three of them he seems the most proactive and will hopefully be a little bit more concerned.

Now James just needs to figure out how to get his attention without opening his mouth. He needs to do it before the fireworks go off because Jason will just get distracted.

He takes one last look at his busted tooth before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom.

The house is mostly empty as he makes his way to the back door, and he keeps his lips firmly shut, can’t help but let his tongue prod at his broken tooth.

He passes Lars and Kirk, sat with their girls by the beer kegs, and Lars waves him over but James just ignores him. He can deal with their bitching later.

He spots Jason at the top of the garden, sorting through cassettes, and he quickly jogs over to him.

Jason smiles, lets his fingers fall from the box he was digging in, and springs forwards, obviously drunk. His hair falls around his face, his tshirt tight against his chest.

“Dude, what the fuck’s wrong with your face?” Jason asks, noting the deep frown wrinkling James’ forehead, but James doesn’t want to talk about it out here. Everyone will see, and he’s not gonna make a fool of himself. He’s James Fucking Hetfield. He’s not a fucking pussy, and he certainly doesn’t chip his teeth on beer bottles.

The rough edge of his tooth says otherwise.

He roughly grabs ahold of Jason’s arm, sinks his fingers into his jacket before dragging him back to the house, ignoring the questions Jason shoots his way until they’re finally in the bathroom.

It’s empty, luckily, and he locks the door behind them, turning to see Jason perched on the edge of the tub. His cheeks are pink, eyes glazed slightly as he sways on the bathtub, the overhead light highlighting the flush up his neck.

“What’s up, man?” he asks, head cocking. “You can’t fuck me in the middle of the party.”

James hopes he’s joking, but his mind momentarily flashes back to a party a few months ago where Jason had pressed him against the wall and sucked on his neck hard enough to leave a bruise that people kept pointing out.

James grinds his jaw, tries to bring his mind to the present and not get hard, and finally works up the courage to speak.

He hovers his hand over his mouth, covering the offending tooth, and says “don’t fucking laugh.”

Jason squints, face sobering a little.

“What’s going on?”

“Just, promise me,” James pleads. He already feels humiliated, and he doesn’t want anyone making him feel like shit, least of all Jason.

“Fine I won’t,” Jason says, standing up now with an edge of concern.

James looks at him for a moment before sighing.

He gingerly pulls his top lip up, exposing his chipped tooth.

Jason’s face cracks and James scowls.

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m not laughing,” Jason says, but he definitely is, laughter bubbling up in thick waves as he tries to suppress it.

James quickly pulls his lip down, crossing his arms.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me,” he complains. “It’s not my fucking fault.”

“Well, who punched you?” Jason asks.

“My beer,” James says, feeling a bit stupid. “I couldn’t get the lid off.”

Jason bursts into another fit of laughter, wheezing loudly, and James feels shame creep onto his cheeks.

“Forget it,” he mumbles, turning to leave, but Jason just grabs his arm.

“I’m sorry,” Jason says, voice even now, and he steps into James’ personal space, though there’s still a smile dimpling his cheeks.

“No you’re not,” James says, doesn’t look at him, and Jason sighs.

“It was just a shock,” Jason says, lets his hands wander up onto James’ shoulders. “You’re still beautiful to me.”

James blushes, ducks his head a little. Fuck, he really can’t get all sappy when they’re at a fucking party. But still his legs go a bit weak. Fuck Jason.

“We can go and fix this now,” Jason says, reaching up to push James’ hair from his face. “No one will even know.”

“But your party,” James says, finally looking at Jason.

Jason just shakes his head.

“You’re more important,” he says. “Especially when you look like you’re gonna cry.”

James scowls and punches Jason’s arm, and Jason giggles.

“Cmon,” Jason says, cupping James’ jaw.

He leans forward, expecting a kiss, and James rolls his eyes before leaning forwards, pressing his lips to Jason’s.

He can’t help but open his mouth after a moment, their tongues intermingling, until Jason yelps, pulling away.

“What?” James asks, breathless but concerned.

Jason prods at his tongue before he says, “your tooth is sharp.”

James can’t help the laugh that filters up through his throat at that.

It seems like it’s not the end of the world after all.

Jason gets his chauffeur to drive them to the emergency dentist, and he’s not in there long before they’ve fixed his tooth. It looks like nothing ever happened.

They manage to slip back into the party unnoticed, just in time for the fireworks, and James stands close to Jason, lets their hands thread together, covered by the sleeve of his jacket.

[hopeymchope]

"Mahjong Ronpa" is now live in English!

The Riichi City/Danganronpa crossover event, officially titled "Mahjong Ronpa," is now live in the English/North American version of the Riichi City app.

There IS a playable storyline here — it's not just a matter of some crossover characters being thrown into the standard game. And this story is, frankly, pretty wild for DR fans.

We play as Naegi, naturally. After awakening in the bizarre new environment of the Riichi City game, he finds he's lost a lot of important memories. But... not the same ones he lost in DR1.

Because this crossover takes place AFTER the events of DR1, and events/terms herein keep trigging vague recognition in Makoto's mind.

Which means it's pretty goddamn wild that some, er, decidedly deceased characters from DR1 are present and alive here. But... it's ultimately not like crossover events are strictly canon, so we probably shouldn't think too much about it. It's just really fun to TRY and fit this into logical continuity.

I suppose we could always just take Monokuma's claims about them traveling across space-time at face value, though?

The short of this story is that because of how this city and its inhabitants are hyperfixated on Mahjong, Naegi is quickly forced to learn the game and enter a tournament if he wants to earn his way towards getting home and/or figuring out how he even got here. After the tournament's semi-finals, though, he falls unconscious. He then awakens in a mahjong parlor room alongside Kyoko Kirigiri, Celestia Ludenberg, and Riichi City character Kanade Kokura (a blonde with two pigtails who is a fashionista/model... HMMMMMM). Makoto's momentary relief at seeing familiar faces is short-lived, because Monokuma appears on a monitor and tells the quartet that they've already completed the final game of the tournament — they've simply lost those memories. If they ever want to leave this room, Monokuma says they need to investigate it and determine who earned 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th among them. Since everything in this city revolves around Mahjong, he wants to see the grand despair of the person who learns they already lost but can't remember how it happened. ......................... Okay? Seems a little small-time for you-know-who's usual plots, but whatever.

The gameplay loop of the event requires you to play the main Mahjong tournament games to earn Monocoins, use those to get gifts from the MonoMono Machine, and then gift those items to the four trapped characters in order to help them complete an investigation and unlock Truth Bullets. Each one lets you participate in a "Match Debate" to discuss and determine the results of the game you've all forgotten. There's plenty of original DR1 soundtrack music to keep you in the mood.

AAAAAND that's pretty much it! I'll probably post more about this stuff as I get farther and unlock more scenes. The event is running through July 30th, 2024. Good luck out there.

[do-it-jakey-baby]

Fourth of July - 365 days later

Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content, teasing, profanity, drinking

18+, MINORS DNI

Unlocking the door to the cabin, you step inside and breathe in the familiar scent. It had been exactly one year since you were last here. One year since your life changed completely.

You felt a sense of nostalgia wash over you, reliving all of the memories that these walls held. The good, the bad, the ugly. If you listened closely, you could still hear the echoes from nights spent wasted playing board games and poker. The next thing you hear is the pitter patter of two sets of paws clicking across the hardwood flooring.

“Rosebud, Hendrix!” You call, lowering yourself down into a squat so you could fuss over the two dogs. The door creaks and you look up to see him struggling through into the foyer, with a crate of beer tucked underneath his arm and bags from the store littering the rest of the space available.

“Baby, you don’t need to carry everything in.” You giggle, rising up to help.

“Ah, ah. Do you see these muscles?” He smirks, setting the bags down and lifting his sunglasses up into his hair, giving you a glimpse of those sweet, caramel irises that you’ve come to adore so deeply.

You walk over to him anyway, taking his face in your hands and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Have I ever told you I love you?”

He sighs, smiling down at you. “Hm, I don’t think you have. Maybe just refresh my memory?”

His hands wind around your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kisses you again.

“I love you, Samuel Kiszka.”

“I love you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Get a room!” Jake snorts, coming in through the door behind you.

“Nice to see you too, Jake.” You chuckle, peeling yourself away from Sam to open your arms out for Jake.

“How’ve you been, sweetheart?”

“Not too shabby. How’s furnishing the new place going?”

He rolls his eyes. “Painful.”

The conversation gets cut short when Josh and Danny come barrelling through the door, both greeting you with outstretched arms. You help them get their things inside and then sit down in the living area to catch up. Truth be told, there isn’t much to catch up on. You had uphauled your life pretty quickly to move to Nashville when you and Sam made things official, so it was just like the old days back in Frankenmuth all over again. They were essentially on your doorstep, but due to the band’s schedule you didn’t see anywhere near as much of them as you did as an adolescent. They were all adults now, each with individual lives they had to attend to. Still, you made it a point to hang out whenever you could.

“Hey, remember this time last year when you and Y/N hated each other? Boy, did that trip change things.” Danny chuckles, elbowing Sam in the ribs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just glad I grew a set of balls and told her how I really felt.” He looks to you, taking your hand in his.

You decide to retire for the evening early, knowing that the next day would be full of carnage for the 4th of July celebrations. You get yourself ready for bed, washing your face and completing your skincare regime. You’re midway through brushing your teeth when Sam saunters into the bathroom, clad only in a pair of boxers with tiny palm trees dotted across them. He pulls his toothbrush from his travel bag and begins brushing his teeth, scooting in next to you at the vanity. He turns to you just before you’re about to spit, swiping some of the toothpaste dribbling from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his finger and deposits it onto your nose.

“Sam! I just did my skincare!”

“Oh yeah, what are you gunna do about it?”

You cut your eyes at him and he swiftly spits into the basin, then darts out of the room. You quickly clean yourself up, then sprint after him. When you enter the room, he’s hidden very inconspicuously under the comforter. You throw it back, jumping on top of him.

“You’re gunna regret that.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” You smirk, then lean forward and take his earlobe into your mouth, nibbling gently on the flesh. You know full-well that the action is like cryptonite to him.

He audibly gasps, his hands flying up to grasp onto your waist. You drag your hand down the length of his torso, stopping just shy of the waistband of his boxers.

“Don’t tease.” He huffs.

“You should have thought about that before your little stunt back there.”

You palm him through the thin fabric, feeling him squirm beneath you. You kiss a trail down his neck, feeling his throat constrict as he swallows thickly. You dip your fingers into his waistband, pulling it down slowly until he springs free. You lower your head, pressing kisses into the delicate skin around his groin. His hand tangles into your hair as he stifles a whimper.

“Baby, please.”

You look up at him, your mouth dangerously close to where he wants it most. You maintain eye contact with him as you stick your tongue out and slowly glide it along the length of his cock, swirling it softly around the tip. He bucks his hips up, but you move backwards.

“Tsk tsk.”

“Fuck.” He hisses. “God damn, please. Please.”

You lower yourself back down, taking him into your hand as you let a long trail of spit leave your mouth. He throws his head back as you begin sliding your fist over him at an agonisingly slow pace. You rub your thumb over his head, which causes him to buck his hips again. This time though, you take him into your mouth. He whines as he hits the back of your throat, the grip in your hair growing tighter. You lap your tongue at his base, relishing in every noise that he’s making. You peer up to find his eyes half-lidded, his mouth parted, and sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. The image before you alone has your mind going feral, arousal rushing to your core.

My turn.

You release him with a pop, an audible huff leaving Sam’s lips. You lift up from the bed, removing your clothes until you’re fully naked. You crawl on top of him, raising up onto your knees when you get to his torso. You hover over his head and look down at him.

“Be a good boy and eat it.”

You watch as his eyes roll back into his head, then his hands find your ass and pull you down onto him. You gasp as he does exactly what you’ve asked. In fact, he doesn’t just eat you, he devours you wholly. He flicks his tongue over your clit with such ferocity that you’re already tumbling towards your climax.

“You- you’re. Fuck. You’re doing s-so good, baby.” You pant, your nails digging into the headboard above you.

You begin to absentmindedly grind into him, chasing your imminent release as the pressure builds sky-high. He seems to enjoy this, so you continue to rotate your hips. He suctions his mouth onto your clit, sucking on the swollen bud with fervour.

“Sam, fuck!”

Your mind goes blank as you plunge into the deepest depths of pleasure. It radiates over your entire body, engulfing you completely. You steadily drift back down to earth to see Sam gazing up at you. You lift yourself up and lay down on top of him, your chest still heaving.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers.

Still, after a whole year has passed, he manages to make you blush. “So are you.”

“So, beautiful girl. Can I please fuck you into this mattress now?”

~

After a sweaty night spent tangled together in the bedroom, you both rise for the day in search of coffee. As you walk into the kitchen, Sam pulls you into his arms and places a kiss to the top of your head.

“There’s the happy couple.” Josh beams at you from his seat at the table, a newspaper spread in front of him and a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Josh, you look like a Grandpa.” You giggle, making your way over to the pot of coffee on the counter.

“Just keeping up on current events.” He winks.

“You do know you can do that from your phone?” Sam sits down next to his sibling, gently elbowing him.

“I repel all technology, brother. I hardly use the thing.”

“Yeah, I know. You can barely text me back.”

You spend the morning making preparations for the evening. It was the usual course of action, a BBQ down at the lake and copious amounts of alcohol. You notice that Sam seems a bit on edge as the day rolls on, but put it down to the lack of sleep. You start getting yourself ready, applying some light makeup and brushing your hair up into a ponytail, curling the ends and your bangs to frame your face. You pull out the cute romper you’ve been saving for the occasion from your bag. It is made from white cheesecloth, but with a corset style waist that cinches you in perfectly. You slip on your converse and spray on some perfume, then you’re ready.

You all traipse down to the lake, carrying bags filled with food, beer, and most importantly, fireworks. Rose and Hendrix come flying past you, chasing each other around in circles. As you watch them frolic together, you begin to set up the camping chairs and blankets, making up a cosy space for everyone to chill out on. Jake takes to the grill, popping the cap on a beer as he flips the burgers and hot dogs. Josh busies himself setting up the fireworks, like the pyromaniac he is.

“Who wants the first dog?” Jake calls out to the group.

“Shotgun!” Danny shouts back.

When the food is ready you all sit round in a circle, soaking up the last of the evening sun. Being here with them, your family, you feel so content and at peace with the world. Watching the brothers bicker and laugh together is such a special thing to witness, you’re so grateful to be a part of it. The bond that the four boys hold is beyond anything you’ve seen before. They’ve gone through thick and thin together. Heartbreak, grief, and the rocky road that is the rise to fame, but they’re still the same people they were before all that. Still the boys you knew, with the same morals and values. You realise in that moment that this was never about being home in Frankenmuth, because home isn’t a place, it’s a feeling. It’s the people that surround you with their love, the people that are there through it all.

You look up at Sam, tears welling up in your eyes. He meets your gaze with a soft smile, as if he’s thinking the exact same thing. He turns to his brothers, giving them a smile, then stands and extends his hand out to you.

You take it in yours, letting him pull you up onto your feet. “Where are we going?”

“Just for a walk.”

You get down to a secluded section of the lake, no one there but you and Sam. It’s so peaceful, with the whirr of festivities muffled in the background. There’s a gentle breeze which licks over your sunkissed skin, the delicious scent of coconut sunscreen and freshly mown grass carrying through it. You can see a blanket spread across the ground in front of you, with a bottle of Champagne and two glasses perched atop. Sam motions for you to sit down.

“Sam, what is all this?”

“Well, it’s a special occasion. Our one year anniversary.” He gives you a shy smile. “I have some things I’d like to say, if that’s ok?”

“Of course.” You breathe.

“One year ago, I accidentally let slip that I’d been in love for you since the moment I met you. In the moment, I was fully kicking myself, but now I’m so thankful that it happened. It brought me to you, in a way I could have only dreamed of. This year has been the best year of my life, having you by my side. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve had the pleasure of knowing, inside and out. You look insanely gorgeous tonight, by the way.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don’t think you’ll ever truly understand how much you mean to me, but I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you in every way that I can. I love you, and I’ve planned this since that day a year ago. I’ve always known, and I hope to god you have too. So…”

He stands, pulling you up with him. He then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. He lowers himself down onto one knee and gazes up at you, the stars in the sky shining brightly in his eyes.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

Your hands fly up to your face as he opens the box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. There is a stunning marquise moss agate in the centre, with tiny diamonds adorning the band. It’s perfect.

“Yes, a million times yes.”

He places the ring onto your finger and stands before you, tears welling in his eyes. You fall into his arms, your own tears streaming down your face as you hold onto him. He kisses you softly then spins you around, coming behind you to hold your waist.

“Look up.”

As you glance upwards, the sky erupts with fireworks. You both watch the brightly coloured flashes together in your little bubble, bound together as one. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, and you swear that this is the happiest moment in your life so far.

The last firework that lights up the night sky explodes into the shape of a love heart, and you feel Sam squeeze you tighter. You turn to face him, tears glistening in both of your eyes.

“Forever.” You whisper.

“Forever.”

[gwenxmorenoarchive]

Time: a week or so after the rave

Where: Cemetery

What: Gwen talks about her current feelings

Warnings: mentions of death, cemetery things, anxiety

With the changing of the seasons, Gwendolyn had dug through an unlabeled box full of little decorations. Most of it was tiny little candles that needed new batteries, though a few bundles of different colored fake flowers were scattered about in the box. She felt unsure if she wanted to label the box as if it sealed its fate completely. Two years after his death, she still thought as if he was going to come back. She knew it was a silly thought. She knew that this box would forever be a box for him and that the label really didn't matter. Yet, she hated the permanent feeling of never changing the box.

She spent the morning picking out different flowers, fixing any weird bunched pieces from being stuck in a weird angle. Then she moved to make sure all her candles worked. Next in her tote bag were a few little pumpkins and fall decorations. Afraid of things getting knocked over, she rarely did anything too large or bulky.

Gwen debated for a while about taking Beatrice with her. Though the small blooming of something in her chest told her the answer she needed. This time she'd want to go alone. She'd want to be able to say her feelings and what truly needed to come out in the privacy of her father's church.

The drive was short and quiet. The closer she got to her husband, the more nervous she became. Her hands gripped the steering wheel just a little bit tighter as pressure from anxiety planted itself on her chest. Maybe this was all dumb, but she couldn't help the thoughts as she worried about what he might think. Or maybe what God would think about her.

Her legs felt like jello as she got out of the car, tote bag swung up on her shoulder. Still, she pushed through her anxious feelings and made her way up into the cemetery and to her husband's grave. Decorations from the 4th of July were still in decent shape. She easily moved them out of the way before taking out a small handheld broom to brush any debris from around his gravestone. "I know I'm a little bit early for autumn decorations, but I wanted to make sure I got these out here. You remember last year; we were too busy with Beatrice I just about missed Christmas as well." Of course, she knew there would only be silence in response.

"She's doing good. She's been loving those little baby puffs that melt into your mouth. I swear that's all she wants to eat now." One by one she slowly put out the candles and decorations. She took her time, thinking about the placement. Also buying her more time to delay talking about what really mattered to her. The blooming.

"I don't know why I keep thinking you're going to come back. Everyone says it's part of the whole grief thing. It's just weird sometimes. It's like some days I completely forget about what happened and that you'll come walking through the door." Her throat tightened painfully as she blinked back the tears threatening to spill.

"I... I just want you to know that I'm okay. I'm doing better... There's... There's this guy I've been bumping into every now and then. And he seems really nice and kind..." Gwen paused as she tried to get in a couple of breaths. The tightening in her chest and throat made it more difficult to even breathe let alone talk. "I don't know what's going to happen... I.. I wanted to tell you that I don't think I've smiled this much since you left me."

Shaky hands finished the decorations and the lights were flickering on as she flipped the switch to keep them on. She didn't know what she was more scared about -- her budding feelings for Rhett Harris or what her dead husband would think about it. She pulled her knees up to her chest, hands gripped tight. Maybe that would stop the shaking. Maybe that would make the guilt go away too. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She whispered, resting her head on her knees as she let the grief overcome her once more.

[obviouslygenuinely]

Babygate Analysis/Conclusions: A Non-Larry Perspective

(Image Credit: Hollywood Life)

I'm prefacing this post with a few disclaimers:

After some consideration, I chose to write this without factoring in Larry whatsoever. No Larry-related points, proof, or speculation in any way. This is solely analyzing babygate from an unbiased perspective. 

I don't claim to know the entire truth. It is impossible for any of us to know.  What I conclude is based on direct evidence, circumstantial evidence, research, and analysis.

I am willing to discuss opposing views. I’m happy to talk about the topic in a civil, kind, and mature matter. I will dismiss any discourse that is aggressive, immature, and so on.

I did not include every single opinion/conclusion/piece of evidence I found. I condensed my thoughts as much as possible (and this is still a novel-length post). There are so many more points I can think of. However, babygate masterposts cover all of that; I’ll link to some of those at the end.

The conclusion points aren't in a very specific order. I aimed to list related points one after another. Aside from that, it's not in order of "hardest to weakest" evidence.

Please read “Author’s Notes” for additional clarity/input. They interject thoughts/etc. that I feel are necessary to include. 

Lastly, I included links to every source I cited in this post. However, I did not tag the Tumblr users. I’m not sure if they are comfortable with having Babygate questions/comments directed to their blogs. If you are a linked source and want to be tagged, please let me know! 

My Initial Reaction To Babygate

In February of 2020, I received several messages on LateToLarry requesting that I analyze something called “babygate”. I had no idea what babygate meant at the time. 

I learned what it meant, and prior to any research I felt the theory was so absurd. I also felt uncomfortable analyzing it because I believed I’d feel bias as a single mom. The idea of discussing a random child in depth initially bothered me, too. I declined to analyze it last year.

However, I did a LOT of research over time. My opinion has changed significantly. Below, I’ve shared my main conclusions and analysis about babygate. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy my post! 

1. No Paternity Test Was Performed Prior To The Pregnancy Announcement

Louis was/is a prominent celebrity and has a current net worth of $70 million. From legal, financial, and practical standpoints, it makes no sense for him to choose not to get a test. 

It’s unheard of in Hollywood and the entertainment industry. Any sensible team -lawyers, PR reps, managers, advisors, etc. - would not just go along with it. They are employed to protect his career and image. 

The Opposing Views

A. “Briana/Louis didn’t want to risk miscarriage with prenatal testing.”

Non-invasive testing is completely safe for fetuses and pregnant women, so there’s no medical reason for the lack of testing.

B. “Louis chose not to get the test done because he wanted to be a father and was invested in the pregnancy/parenting.”

Time has shown that this is not true. Louis does not have custody; there was a brief custody case in 2016 that led nowhere. He does not have a consistent or prominent role in the child’s life.

Conclusion

There is no logical reason for the lack of paternity testing prior to the announcement unless Louis knew he was not the father and all parties knew this to be true.

2. There Was No Confirmation Of A Paternity Test After The Birth

I’ll keep this section fairly short. A quick Google search returns dozens of conflicting reports. Many of them state that Louis demanded a paternity test shortly after birth. Other reports state that he has never pursued a paternity test. 

Here are a few examples:

“Louis Tomlinson not interested in paternity test” - Business Standard

“EXCLUSIVE: Louis Tomlinson Demanded a DNA Test “As Soon as the Baby Was Born”” - InTouch Weekly

“Louis Tomlinson: No DNA Test Needed ... Positive Freddie's His Son” -TMZ

“Louis Tomlinson & Briana Jungwirth: WhyHe Had DNA Test Done on His Newborn Son” - Hollywood Life

This Twitter thread discusses TMZ reports that - as of 2020 - no DNA test was done.

Conclusion

There is no reliable confirmation that Louis pursued a paternity test. The media cannot come to a general/factual consensus.

Again, there is no reasonable explanation for the lack of paternity testing unless Louis knows he is not the father of the child. 

3. The Conception-To-Birth Timeline Is Inconsistent/Unreliable

Pregnancy and conception as a whole can be rather confusing; timelines from conception to birth are unique to each person. Having said that, Briana’s timeline is full of glaring inconsistencies that don’t add up. 

I’ll begin with this timeline based on bulletprooflarry’s post and my own research. Dates I’ve added myself include linked sources:

May 5th, 2015 - Louis and Briana were first seen together in public.

May 6th to May 31st, 2015 - Briana and her mom followed baby-related social medial accounts.

May 12th, 2015 - Louis and Briana were pictured together in public.

July 3rd, 2015 - Louis is seen with Briana’s brother in Hollywood.

July 14th, 2015 - The first pregnancy report is published.

August 4th, 2015 - Louis confirms pregnancy on GMA.

January 21st, 2016 - The child is reportedly born.

Based on the dates above, these are the possible dates/milestones for her pregnancy:

Scenario A - If conception occurred on May 5th, Briana was 37 weeks and 2 days pregnant on January 21st, 2016. This is considered an early-term birth and about 26% of births occur at 37 weeks.

Scenario B - If conception occurred on May 12th, Briana was 36 weeks and 2 days pregnant on January 21st. This is considered a late-term or late premature birth and about 10% of births occur at 36 weeks.

These dates matter because Briana’s alleged hospital stay was not consistent with a premature or early-term birth. She was pictured in public - healthy and holding a baby carrier - within one week of giving birth. 

(Image Credit: Daily Mail)

(Image Credit: larrysbbrbb28)

If she gave birth based on the dates above, it’s extremely unlikely that she or the baby would be out in public so soon.

Below are screenshots of an additional timeline from an archived Tumblr post. It provides excellent points about more timeline inconsistencies: 

The main inconsistencies and red flags are bolded in the post. It supports the unreliable conception timeline, and it also mentions my next point - the official pregnancy announcement. 

The post above mentions that the Jungwirth family followed baby-related accounts before Briana could possibly know she was pregnant. Here’s one screenshot from skepticallarrie proving it:

I’ve also seen several posts that show inconsistencies with the size of Briana’s baby bump. Unfortunately, the most reliable post no longer exists. You can view a web archive of Briana’s pregnancy photos, but most of the image links are broke. 

The only post I have saved is a web archive of a long babygate post. The beginning of the post contains photos showing discrepancies in the size of Briana’s baby bump. 

The Opposing Views

“Pregnancy looks different on everybody, everyone recovers differently, etc.”

Yes, this is true and a valid point! As a woman who has gone through multiple pregnancies and two live births, I truly understand this argument. 

However, the sheer amount of inconsistencies are what make this a red flag. There are too many unreliable and contradicting points to brush this off. It goes beyond the point of “well, each person has a different experience”.

Conclusion

There are a few conclusions/scenarios I believe you can draw from the information above:

Briana was pregnant prior to meeting Louis.

Briana was never pregnant in the first place. 

Both are valid to consider, but I personally believe she was never pregnant. 

(Author’s note: My calculation for dates are based on the date of alleged conception. Most due date calculators, by default, use the date of a woman’s last mentrual period - LMP - to provide estimations.

I also used Date Duration Calendar for my calculations. Accessible due date calculators only allowed me to input dates from 2019/2020. Depending on the tools and dates you use, your mileage may vary.)

4. The Announcement Itself Was Highly Unusual

This point ties into the first and third points. I don’t consider it a major piece of evidence, but it’s noteworthy due to the other points. 

So, there are a few reasons why the Good Morning America announcement stands out. 

A. If Briana got pregnant on May 5th, then she was approximately 10 weeks pregnant when the first pregnancy report was published. This also means she was approximately 13 weeks pregnant at the time of the GMA announcement.

If Briana got pregnant on May 12th, she was approximately nine weeks pregnant at the time of the first report and approximately 12 weeks pregnant at the time of the GMA announcement.

B. The public announcement on Good Morning America raises a lot of questions. I’ve had multiple issues embedding the video; the bolded link takes you to the GMA announcement on YouTube. 

Anyways, these questions/thoughts - disregarding any Larry theories -  come to mind when watching the video: 

This is a segment for promoting/discussing their album/music.

The baby announcement is the sole non-album/music related topic that is mentioned during the segment.

The announcement is not organically worked into the segment as a natural talking point.

Louis’ reactions - such as bringing the microphone to his lips and not talking - is very unlike his standard interview demeanor.

The male interviewer and the band members have noticeable facial expressions and body language that suggest discomfort, stress, or awkwardness. 

A post by skepticalarrie draws similar conclusions. Her post is much more detailed than mine, and I highly recommend reading/viewing it. 

(Author’s Note: I’ve touched upon this on LateToLarry and will make a post here eventually, but body language and facial expressions are valid. They’re valid to the point that they are used in court cases.) 

Conclusion

My conclusions here are twofold. One is that: 

Announcing a pregnancy - especially a celebrity-related pregnancy - this early is extremely uncommon and unlikely.

The announcement itself seems out of place and very forced. 

This particular point, to me, is not extremely strong evidence. I still think it’s worth keeping in mind and is relevant to other points here. So, I’ve included it either way.

5. Briana Posted Stolen Pregnancy/Baby Photos On Social Media

(EDIT: I wrote this piece before the recent release of Briana’s alleged ultrasound and don’t have time to add it. It’s pretty strong proof and can easily be found in recent babygate posts.)

Babygate posts often point out that Briana and the Jungwirth family used stolen/fake pregnancy and baby photos on social media. It’s a well-known topic that’s often discussed. 

I’m condensing this section to a few examples. I encourage additional research if you’d like to see more. 

A. This Tumblr post shows stolen baby bump photos that Briana’s cousin Ashley posted on Twitter: 

B. This Tumblr post and Twitter post show a stolen baby photo that Briana posted on Instagram:

(Author’s Note: Since I was not active in the fandom at the time, I am relying on information from other blogs and social media posts. I vetted my sources pretty well, but any false information is my own mistake.)

Conclusions

The only word that sums this up is “suspicious”. Using stolen photos of a pregnant woman/baby is not necessary if you are legitimately pregnant. That’s really what it boils down to. It lends to the conclusion that Briana was never pregnant. 

6. Photos And Videos Of The Child Are Heavily Altered And Manipulated

It is indisputable that many photos and videos of the child are heavily manipulated to alter his appearance. This goes beyond filters, lighting, and angles. 

Several detailed posts show the manipulations; here are some examples:

A web archive of all Photoshop evidence from tellmethisisnotlove

An in-depth post from genuineconspiracy that includes detailed photo evidence.

A video post from freefreddiereign that shows Photoshop evidence based on photos the child. 

There is no doubt that his facial features are frequently altered. This is easy to conclude using any free software that detects Photoshop. As a photographer myself, I can easily spot the manipulations.

(Author’s Note: I know that directly discussing the child is controversial. When I first heard of babygate, my initial reaction was discomfort about analyzing a child.

I quickly learned/concluded that his family members are responsible for heavily putting him in the public eye. All content I’ve used for research is based on the family’s posts.

Still, I have personally chosen not post pictures of the child, but the links I am sharing contain photos/videos of him.

Additionally, I used FotoForensics on photos of myself prior to writing this. It was important to me to feel absolutely certain about this point. I’m fine with sharing my own FotoForensics images if anyone is curious.)

The Opposing Views

A. “Freddie looks like Louis in pictures that aren’t Photoshopped.”

Parentage cannot be based on whether or not a child looks like his mother/father. I understand the viewpoint, but it’s simply not evidence. Additionally, thinking the child looks like Louis is a matter of opinion. 

There’s also the fact that appearance means nothing overall. Science backs up this statement very well. Examples and references:

“How can children from the same parents look so different?” by HowStuffWorks

“My Baby Looks Nothing Like Me: A Genetic Explanation” by FamilyEducation

Additionally, here is a personal anecdote. I have two sons close to Freddie’s age. One of them looks exactly like his father and nothing like me. The other looks exactly like me and nothing like his father. Despite how they look, they are both of them are our biological children. 

Conclusion

There is no reasonable explanation for altering the child’s appearance - particularly to make him look more similar to Louis. 

I cannot think of a single argument as to why the Jungwirth family would do this unless they need/want the child to look a specific way. 

7. Johannah Deakin’s Official Obituary Does Not Mention The Child

When looking into babygate, I read the argument that the child is legitimately Louis’ son because he is listed as her grandchild in Internet-based obituaries and announcements. 

I also read the counter-argument that Louis’ mother’s official newspaper/print obituary does not mention the child.  I recall seeing proof, but I did not save it at the time. I did some research and this appears to be true. 

The Doncaster Free Press is a local weekly newspaper in Doncaster, and it published an article about the funeral. The article is NOT an obituary itself, but it does list her obituary details. The publication does not list the child among the surviving family members. 

If a mistake is made regarding these details, it’s typical for newspapers to post a correction addressing a misprint. Upon further research, the Doncaster Free Press did not issue a correction at any time. 

(Author’s Note: I lost my own mother and am personally familiar with how local obituaries are written. Immediate family members - i.e. spouses and adult children - provide information regarding surviving family members.) 

Conclusion

The conclusion here is straightforward. Louis and his family chose not to include the child in his mother’s official obituary. This strongly suggests that he is not legitimately related to Louis. 

My Opinion-Based Conclusions

Update: After some consideration, I am saving my opinion-based conclusions for a separate post. I originally intended to include them here; transparency is important to me.

Unfortunately, the section became rather long and took away from the main post points. So, I’ll be working on a post that’s just my opinion-based conclusions. In the meantime, feel free to message me with any questions. 

Final Thoughts

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my post! I appreciate the interest expressed for it, and I hope it lives up to expectations. 

Again, I want to reiterate this is:

Not an all-inclusive post; I narrowed down my findings to seven points.

Not a masterpost on babygate.

Purposely omitting any potential Larry-related points to remove bias. 

I’ve reread this quite a few times, and it’s as error-free as possible. If you spot any mistakes/errors, I’m completely open to making corrections. Just kindly let me know. 

This list contains references/research about babygate that I consider the most reliable. It includes Larry and non-Larry related Babygate content.

Tumblr posts tagged with babygate by Tumblr use genuineconspiracy.

A web archive of babygate posts by Tumblr user tellmethisisnotlove (her account was deactivated by staff).

Tumblr posts tagged with babygate by darkrainbowlouis.

Tumblr posts tagged with babygate by skepticalarrie.

Lastly, if there’s interest in an opinion-related post or Larry-related post, I’ll consider writing them. Feel free to let me know as you all did with this post. 

Thanks!

Amy (obviouslygenuinely/latetolarry)

[cockasinthebird]

There’s a lot of things that Billy Hargrove loves about 4th of July. How loud the fireworks are, the chance to set something on fire without reprimand, barbecue food that reminds him of beach parties back home, beer just tastes better for some reason, the summer heat, and how scantily clad everyone is.

Guys with their exposed muscles, girls in their tiny bikinis.

Billy walks through the far too inebriated crowd spread out across the quarry, a beer in hand that is quickly warming up in his sweaty grasp, seemingly aimless in the way he looks at everyone who greets him all excited, then clearly disappointed that he didn’t stop to talk past pleasantries.

No, Billy is on a hunt; a hungry wolf looking for one specific lamb, no other temptations can match the urge for one pretty boy’s attention.

And he finds Steve Harrington, dressed in shorts too revealing and a top that ends just by his navel, leaning against the hood of someone’s car. Three girls in short skirts and bikini tops standing awfully close to him, listening intently - or at least pretending to - as he smiles all friendly and gestures with his red plastic cup to really emphasise whatever he’s saying.

Envy isn’t a thing Billy experiences, nah, definitely not, he reminds himself as he takes too big a gulp of his beer, yet it stirs sourly in the sudden pit of his stomach. They’re not dating, so he has no right to feel jealous about anything going on in front of him currently.

Yet when Steve leans in to whisper in one girl’s ear, causing her to giggle excessively and bash her eyes at him, Billy’s heart beats all wrong, fingers tightening around the neck of his bottle. It triggers that good old fight instinct in him, the one that used to make him throw fists with Steve before that handsome brunette dared kiss him.

Nothing’s been the same since- fucking Harrington; Billy was perfectly fine before that, completely, and now? Now he can’t stop thinking about their first time. Their second time. Their third. Fourth.

And what their fifth time might be like. Not that he’s keeping count, of course. Not that he’s anticipating it. Or thinking about it. Dreaming about it. Hoping…

Like a magnet to metal, Steve turns his head and his eyes lock right onto Billy’s, looking drunk but aware of how he’s being leered at. Something in his hooded gaze tells more than it should, like a confession to curiosity, answering questions that haven't yet been asked. At least not in so many words.

Billy takes a long swig of his beer, emptying the bottle and throwing it off to the side, then lets his eyes wander down - far enough for there to be absolutely no doubt what he’s thinking about, and from the way Steve smiles next only shows, “Message received.”

When Steve kicks off of the hood and moves to walk away from his little fangroup, one of the girls grabs on to his arm, with pleading eyes and a slight pout she says something Billy can’t hear, pressing her arms together to accentuate her tits, and Billy honestly can’t blame Steve for looking down at the inviting, soft flesh for a few seconds too many, before making up an excuse that sets him free.

The disappointment on all their faces feeds Billy’s narcissism immensely, and it shows in the grin that cracks across his face. Ah to know that he’s the first choice of princess Stevie’s desire, it washes away all that doubtful jealousy with warm waves of aroused excitement.

Steve stumbles just a slight bit as he approaches Billy, inebriated and smiling. “Hey Hargrove, got a smoke?”

Billy teases with his tongue out, biting down on it with shiny teeth, and oh the thrill when Steve’s eyes dart down to watch Billy wet his lips and appetite. 

“Sure I do,” he says with the most suggestive grin. “But not here, otherwise everyone else will want to bum a smoke, too.”

Not an actual concern, but a plausible excuse to get Steve alone.

Twigs bend and snap under Billy’s heavy footfall, and perhaps he didn’t think this through, walking in the forest in flip flops. Every time he turns to look behind, Steve’s still there, following with his eyes cast down to calculate every step before taking it, brows knit and eyes squinting in concentration.

The music is still audible at this distance, but all the lights from cars and bonfires have been obscured by trees.

Billy can’t imagine anyone bothered following them all the way out here, and since he can only hear the faint pop music and Steve stumbling near, decides that, yeah, this is far enough. 

Steve goes to slump against a tree, looking at Billy who fishes up a pack of cigs. “I didn’t actually follow you out here to smoke.”

“Oh really?” Billy chuckles deep and shoves the pack back into the pocket of his swimming trunks. “Just thought it’d be more courteous of me to offer you some anyways, but-”

One finger hooks itself on those red trunks and drags Billy closer till he lands close against Steve’s heated body.

“Eager, huh? Ah-” Billy hisses as Steve grinds their hips together, proving that he’s already sporting more than half a chub.

“I’ve been thinking about you for hours,” Steve admits with a slight slur, fingers working at the drawstrings of those red shorts. “Just waiting for you to show up, always fashionably late, wanna make sure everyone sees you, right?”

“Nothin’ wrong with liking being noticed,” Billy drawls with his nose pressed against Steve’s cheek, pursing his lips just enough to offer up light, almost chaste, kisses. “I’m more than worthy of the attention, don’t you think?”

“I do,” a whisper, and Steve turns his head to meet those gentle lips, just to then feel the breath of a moan graze his sweaty skin as he wraps his fingers around Billy’s girthy cock.

It teeters on the edge of uncomfortable, how stern a grasp Steve holds on his dick, the awkward movement of a clammy hand, but Billy grows hard quickly nevertheless, leaving him cursing and groaning.

“Fuck baby, ah-h…”

Steve smiles all too self-satisfied for doing such a half assed job.

With both arms extended above each of Steve’s shoulders, Billy braces himself against the tree, and when they kiss again - tongues dancing to the distant rhythm - he can taste absolutely every single sip of alcohol Steve’s had tonight, and Billy’s convinced it makes his own head spin a little.

“I want you so bad, Billy,” Steve whines all horny and pathetic into the embrace of their lips.

“Then turn around,” Billy’s voice is rough, demanding, confident, and he takes a step back to free up some space between them.

Steve lets out a shuddering breath at the chilling air between where their sweaty bodies had been connected, then swivels on his heels till his palms land firmly against rough bark. He pushes out his ass, serving it up on a silver platter, gazing over his shoulder to catch how Billy’s smiling all wicked and wild.

Billy runs his hand down the exposed bit of Steve’s back, where his crop top and shorts can’t reach, skin warm and soft and slightly damp from the summer heat. He dips a couple of fingers beneath the elastic waistband.

“Dressed a bit like a slut tonight, pretty boy,” he hums pleasantly and pulls at the shorts, just to let go and have it snap back, loudly.

An oddly delighted gasp escapes Steve. “Just for you.”

Billy’s hand had wandered down to caress a soft cheek, going further down to tease the skin just beneath the leg of the shorts.

“You really that needy and desperate for my attention?” His lips part in a grin, exposing sharp teeth that he licks across; a little predatory show that Steve absolutely notices.

“That’s not all I’m desperate for.”

Steve stretches out his arms proper and pushes himself against where Billy’s cock is rock hard, eliciting a groan followed by two hands grabbing all too hard onto Steve’s hips.

With his grasp bruising, Billy keeps Steve still as he ruts himself against the plush of Steve’s ass, both of them moaning as he slips and slides his full erection in the crevice between cheeks.

“Ah- Billy- please please please, I need more,” Steve whines with his head hanging low.

Billy chuckles, like rolling thunder in his chest, as he leans forward to bury his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, one hand slipping around and down to cup at Steve’s aching prick. He strokes it through the shorts, following the entire length up and down, Steve whimpering and panting and thrusting for more, as a wet spot forms by the head.

“God, you’re so wet and hard for me, baby,” Billy drawls, biting, kissing, sucking his way up Steve’s neck, marking him with his attention; make everyone know.

Thumbs hook themselves on the waistband to pull down the shorts just past the curve of supple cheeks, keeping his weeping dick trapped still.

“No underwear?” He brings his tongue to lick a sloppy line up Steve’s neck, nosing at the back of his ear, then breathes out hot, “Such a whore.”

Steve inhales as if to speak, to respond, but unadulterated lust occupies his mind like a thick fog, and all that comes out is a slight, erotic, “Fuck.”

And Billy brings his hand up to those pretty pink lips, pushing his way in without invitation, just to feel Steve’s tongue eagerly wrap itself around the two digits, letting Billy roam free in the wet heat till his fingers are dripping, spit running down his palm and wrist. Steve’s always so sloppy and obscene and greedy, which is what Billy loves about him.

He brings those slick fingers between them, down to circle around Steve’s rim, teasing with the tip applying just enough pressure for it to be agonizingly inadequate, making Steve whimper as he tries to move his hips in hopes of more.

Billy’s not a bad guy per se, at least not towards Steve anymore, so he gives his princess what he’s begging for and slips in a finger, smooth and easy, as deep as it goes, and he can feel how Steve trembles with delight. Relentlessly so, Billy pulls the finger almost all the way out, before plunging it back in again - setting a quick pace, but Steve’s hungry.

“Ah-h, more, Billy,” he moans with his head thrown back, mouth wide open to allow out every single lascivious little sound he has in him.

“Ssshh,” Billy hushes where he’s quick to lean in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “Be quiet and I’ll give you what you want. Can’t have people hear you and come looking for us.”

“What’s the matter, hmm? Ah- afraid of getting caught with your pants down?” Steve laughs but in a low manner, ultimately proving he’s following orders.

And truth be told yes, Billy is afraid to get caught like this with another guy, but that just makes this all the more thrilling. So without words and choosing actions instead, he with his one free hand covers Steve’s wide open mouth before pushing a second finger into his soft hole.

Thankfully so, for the way Steve moans in utter glee vibrates against the palm of Billy’s hand.

“God you need it so bad, huh princess? Need my cock in you?” his voice thick with wanton and self-restraint.

Steve mumbles out in agreement.

It doesn’t take long before he adds a third finger, and there’s an immediate ecstatic response from Steve, who suddenly can’t help himself as he reaches behind to grab Billy by the wrist and tries to push him in deeper.

“Such an impatient little slut tonight,” Billy barks out in laughter and curls his fingers. He can feel every single muscle twitch and tremble at it, and the way Steve keens makes his own hard prick throb with desire.

“Mmh, ah- please, Billy, fuck me,” Steve tears his mouth free from Billy’s grasp, lips wet with drool.

“Lucky for you I brought lube and a condom with your name on it,” Billy snickers as he reaches into his own back pocket for the small packs, when Steve complains,

“N-no, no condom, please,” he pleads all pathetic, twisting around till their eyes meet through the darkness. “I want to feel you inside of me, nothing between us.”

Billy doesn’t have to think twice about that. The condom was a nice courtesy on his behalf, so that Steve wouldn't have to walk around with cum dripping down his thighs, but if he wants it so bad…

With one hand he undoes the drawstrings of his shorts, with the other he holds the little silver pack of lube up to his teeth as he tears it open. The liquid is warm from the summer heat as he pours it on his steely cock, moaning as he strokes himself a few good times to cover up properly before lining up with Steve’s eager entrance.

“Yes, ohh,” spills from Steve’s open lips as Billy enters him; the fat, blunt head stretching him out nice and wide.

And Billy keeps pushing in, inch by inch till they’re flush together, Steve sandwiched between Billy’s broad frame and the tree where his nails dig into the bark.

“You got such a nice, tight ass, pretty boy. So perfect for my cock,” Billy growls into Steve’s ear, teeth scraping against the shell of it as he stands as close as he can get.

Steve doesn’t have command of his own words at this moment, he can barely even hum out in agreeance as he’s overcome with blinding lust.

Slowly at first Billy pulls out before sliding in in one smooth movement, out again and in as he carefully increases the pace to the rhythm of Steve’s moans. He’s starting to learn the pattern of the sounds Steve makes when he’s getting thoroughly fucked. A certain whine when he needs more, harder, faster. A deep, guttural groan when it’s all just perfect. A string of high pitched curses whenever Billy rams into his prostate. 

And the way Steve clenches tighter than any pussy Billy’s ever had whenever he’s close is almost gorgeous in a sense. With his eyes closed and forehead pressed against Steve’s shoulder, Billy thrusts into that indescribable heat, feeling how every muscle needs his cock, milking and massaging him, urging him deeper and deeper.

“Arrh fuck, feel so good.” He grabs on to Steve’s hips with both hands, pounding into him with ardent fervor, leaving poor Steve with the responsibility of covering up his own mouth.

Blame it on the liquor or Billy’s expert fucking, if he do say so himself, no matter which it has Steve cumming in near record time with an obscene, loud whine as he bites into his hand in an attemp to fight back his impulse to be heard.

It feels like magic, the way Steve’s climaxing body sucks Billy in, every single muscle convulsing around him.

“Yes, god, just like that, oh Steve I’m so close,” he groans out, strong and throaty, slamming in harder to get what he needs now that Steve has gotten his.

He leans back, one hand on Steve’s shoulder, pushing him against the tree as he pounds as hard as he can, staring down at where his girthy cock gets swallowed so eagerly, grinning at the oh so satisfying sound of skin slapping together almost violently so.

“Ahh fuck, Billy,” Steve whines, somewhat euphoric, somewhat sore, all together enjoying being used so easily.

“That’s right, bitch, say my name.”

“Billy!”

“Yes.”

“Billy-”

“Shit, yes, arh--” 

He cums with what feels like an explosion of ecstasy in his groin, radiating out and up his spine to flourish in his chest as he fills Steve up with every last bit of energy that he has in him; a pulsating, slick heat that he buries himself in to the base of his throbbing cock.

But he doesn’t linger. As soon as they’ve both caught their breath he pulls out, well satisfied with his work as he slaps Steve’s ass lightly with his tongue out between teeth, chuckling at the little yelp that comes with it.

“Jesus, Harrington, that was fucking good,” he says as he puts himself away again in his swimming trunks.

Truth be told he wants to stay. Hell, he even wants to cuddle a bit, but it’s too soon to tell if Steve wants the same. No matter the answer, Billy isn’t sure he wants to know. Instead of thinking too long about what could be, he fishes up a cigarette and lights it quickly so that the smoke may fill the emptiness inside.

Steve’s a whole mess still. Basking in the afterglow, slow to pull up his shorts and turn around, just to steal the cigarette from between Billy’s lips and taking a drag himself.

“Really good, yeah,” he breathes out in sweet relief, then dares to ask, “What now?”

Like it’s a fucking invitation for more. To open up. To tell the truth. Every possibility flies through Billy’s mind all at once, but he plays it safe,

“I could use a drink.”

[christinesficrecs]

I needed a distraction from yet another hateful week so here we are!! With this Beach AU reclist that is obviously no longer that! 🤦🏻‍♀️  

Also, there are some 4th of July fics here if you’re feeling picnics and bbqs. And summer camp fics here if that’s more your thing. 

A (Sort of) Fairytale by briecheesie, daunt | 25.8K | Mature

The summer after senior year starts normally enough, with the gang spending their final months before college together at the Martin family's lake house. Then Jackson stumbles onto the burial ground of a witch's ex-husband, Stiles is magically turned into a fox, and things somehow manage to get worse from there. The gratuitous Princess Bride references are only of moderate help.

Kissing the Shoreline by theroguesgambit | 12K

Stiles doesn’t want just any summer fling. He wants Derek. And Lydia is determined to help Stiles get him.

The Newlywed Game by Captain_Loki | 19.5K | Mature

Stiles is (still) single when the pack's getaway to the Caribbean comes by (oh misplaced optimism); lucky for him Derek is committed to being uncommitted and even after all these years is still powerless against Stiles' unique forms of persuasion.

Cue a romantic getaway for two: sun, sand, and sarcasm abound...and the two roped into competing in the Resort's version of the Newlywed game. Only it's completely obvious it's going to end in disaster. Probably homicide.

Most probably homicide.

Plot twist: It doesn't.

Livin' La Vida Loca by jadore_hale, stomachaches | 16.3K

The one where Stiles answers a newspaper ad to be the Hale family's new pool boy and has a hell of a summer.

Wild and Reckless Breeze by GotTheSilver | 15.7K | Mature 

In which Stiles is killing time working at a bookshop, Derek buys a lot of Chuck Palahniuk and they start hanging out, much to the confusion of Scott and the Sheriff.

hey asshole by everchanginginks | 15.6K | Mature

The Hales moved in next door more than a year ago and while Cora and Stiles became fast friends, Stiles has yet to meet his best friend's big brother, Derek, who’s been attending college in New York. When Derek comes home for the summer he makes less than a stellar impression. And vice versa.

To Navigate Your Seas by alisvolatpropiis | 26K | Explicit

Derek is a beach bum/surfer; Stiles is his new neighbor. Feels ensue.

The Lawn Ranger by Snowjob | 47.8K | Mature 

In which Derek is an adolescent werewolf with a penchant for chocolate bunnies, and instead of the dream summer of lazing around the house playing video games and nibbling on his hoarded supply of easter candy his mother makes him get a job.

In which Stiles is a showoff jock with a broken arm and an embarrassing crush who can no longer push the lawn mower around the yard.

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Beach Trip AU  |  Steady Like The Tide  |  tumblr ficlets

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He’s too busy waxing poetic in his own head about the surly – dreamy – dude holding the sign for the hotel to notice Scott already making his way over. He pauses halfway when he realises Stiles isn’t following him, turning around and eyeing Stiles curiously, “Dude, come on, the guy’s waiting.”

Stiles snaps himself into action and pushes his cart carrying his suitcases over to where Scott’s introducing himself to Stiles’ future husband.

“-And this is Stiles,” Scott is saying just as Stiles arrives next to him.

“I’m Derek,” the guy replies gruffly, folding the sign up and tucking it under his arm. “I’ll be taking you back to the hotel.”

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"You’re all headed out to Oklahoma in a week.”

Derek snaps his head up, stares at him in horror, “No, boss.”

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“I haven’t done weather since college,” Derek protests.

Boyd snorts again, presumably because he’s thinking back to the time when Derek and the weather last collided and he…. well, did the guy into the weather for a brief, wonderful, terribly foolish time. But, Boyd needs to shut up before Derek punches him on the nose.

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So…” The man was at the door to a shed now. “The previous owners left everything, so I think there should be everything you need. But let me know if you need me to pick up anything, or if you prefer, you can buy it and I’ll reimburse you…”

“Everything I need?” Stiles repeated. He had obviously missed something.

“You know.” The man smiled again, a little more cautiously. He was looking at Stiles as if he were a bit mentally-challenged. “To clean the pool.”

“To clean the pool,” Stiles repeated. He looked around. Then he looked down at himself, taking in his stained shirt, cargo shorts, and raggedy Converse.

“Oh!” he said. “Because I’m the pool guy.” And that’s not what he meant to say at all. He meant to say, “You think I’m the pool guy.”

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Stiles and Scott get summer jobs at the exclusive Seawolf Beach Resort, and the last thing Stiles expects is to start taking surf lessons from the hot lifeguard.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

June Prompt #4- Melt

A PASSING THROUGH FLASHFORWARD

A/N: I think of all the characters that I write, Ryan is the one that I would most want to spend my summers with and you are about to see why. I have MISSED writing this man, so when I got this request I was so excited and knew almost immediately what I wanted to do with it. This takes place about five months after Ryan stays with you in your empty apartment in Denver during that snowstorm... ** Happy 4th of July American friends! ** I hope that if you are celebrating, you’re having a (safe) blast!   

Request: “Fireworks” & “Ice cream/ Popsicles” from @suchatinyinfinity

WC: 1.7k 

Warnings: Ryan’s tongue has a mind of its own

It was summer, you knew that for sure, and you were just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. Outside of those facts though, things got a little fuzzy. It was easy to lose track of things like markings on calendars when you were on the road. Since joining Ryan last winter, you typically measured time in terms of weekdays, paying attention only to when you were supposed to be where and how long you were staying. It was simpler, counting days in batches of sevens and passing time in increments of Mondays, than it was to know which of the twenty eight to thirty one days of the month it was. 

Is it Wednesday yet? No? Then we don’t have to worry about being anywhere. 

Not due in Portland until the weekend, we still have some time. 

Two more Tuesdays in town before we need to get to the train yard. 

Days tended to melt into one another, especially in the heat of the summer, even more so in the small towns that the two of you most often frequented. The pace of life in those places was naturally slower, unrushed, daylight stretching pleasantly thin until it twisted into twilight without you even noticing for how leisurely the change occurred. That was one of the things that you liked most about your new life- it was lived on no one’s time but yours, and you were happy to live it sticky and slow, licking the sweet drippings of the day from your fingers each night as you fell asleep.

Getting to fall asleep with Ryan only made it that much sweeter. Whether you were crashing on a friend’s couch, camping outside, splurging on a motel room or sleeping under the stars while the rails rumbled beneath you, there was only one feeling that beat laying your head on his chest each night, that eclipsed drifting off with his strong arms around you, and that was waking up in that same position. The sound of his steady heart beat, his quiet breathing, the warmth of his skin through his soft tee or pressed directly to your own made for the only way that you wanted to start your mornings, no matter what day of the week it was.

It's Sunday. I think. 

Before you could spend too much time thinking about it, your train of thought was completely derailed. Your mouth dropped open as you sucked in a breath at the sight of Ryan’s tongue darting out to swipe away a splotch of thick orange syrup from the meaty part of his palm beneath his pinky and a rush of heat swept through you that had nothing to do with the Midwestern summer temperatures. 

Oh… damn it, Brenner. 

He’d walked over to the trash cans just a few feet away from where you were sitting to throw out the wrappers and wooden sticks from the popsicles that you’d just eaten, some of the sugary residue clearly getting on him in the process. You bit your bottom lip as he switched to his thumb, turning his hand over to suck at the knuckle and grinning as he finally brought his eyes up to catch you watching him. Teeth flashing as his smile widened, he dropped his hand to his side to treat you to your favorite view, unimpeded happiness making his bearded cheeks go round as a laugh started brewing in his eyes before you heard it filling the thick, hot air. 

“What are you lookin’ at, Junebug?” The tip of his tongue poked out between his lips again as he closed the distance to where you were. 

You swung your legs to hop off of the rest stop picnic bench that you were perched atop, his guitar case and your packs lined up on the seat. “Oh, I think you know what I was looking at, Ryan.” 

He chuckled, dropping his chin and using one hand to remove his hat, the other to comb his thick, unruly hair back. “Yeah,” he let out another small laugh as he tossed his hat to land in the spot you’d just vacated on the green table. Both hands free, he reached for your waist and you closed your eyes, inhaling deeply in through your nose as he tugged you close enough so that your hips bumped into his. When he spoke again, his voice was low and lazy and it made you dizzy.  “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

You reached up, right hand automatically going to the hair at the nape of his neck. Pointer finger coiling around the curls that were getting longer there, you let your other palm fit to the slope of his neck where it met his shoulder, and using both points of contact for purchase, you lifted yourself onto your toes. “I’ll bet you have a very good idea,” you muttered through your smile, pressing your own still fruit flavored lips to his. 

The small squeaky whimper that you made as his tongue entered your mouth couldn’t be helped, the chill from the ice pop still lingering like you knew it would. He hummed into the kiss as one of his large hands moved to cradle the back of your head, the crook of his thumb matching the curve of your skull to perfectly hold you in place. He let the tip of his cold tongue run along the underside of your top lip to draw another gasp from you, causing you to tilt your head and curl your fingers more tightly in his hair. Ryan deepened the kiss and it was enough to make you temporarily forget where you were, let alone what day of the week or month or year it was. 

When he did end it, he kept his lips on yours for a few extra seconds, and you could feel the warmth return to his mouth as he took a breath. “That what you had in mind?” 

“Mmm,” you nodded, the tip of your nose rubbing his as you sunk back to your real height. “That’s exactly what I had in mind, Brenner.” Another laugh escaped you as your hands fell to his shoulders. “Was that orange or tangerine?” 

He returned both hands to your hips, fingers squeezing with light pressure. “I dunno, what do you think?” 

You narrowed your eyes and scrunched your lips to one side in mock speculation. “Nondescript citrus,” you decided. 

That earned you an even bigger laugh, Ryan pulling you into his chest to wrap you in his arms just as a pair of headlights pulled into the lot, the truck they belonged to sounding off two short honks. “My favorite,” he pressed the bridge of his nose against your temple as he spoke, then kissed the spot behind your ear and let you go, right hand lacing with yours. “C’mon, Junebug, that’s our ride and we got a train to catch.”

He bent down to pick up your pack, handing it to you while you reached for his hat. Ryan slung the straps of his bag over his left shoulder, then grabbed the handle of his case. When he turned to face you, you were ready with his hat, sticking it on his head as though the whole routine had been choreographed. 

It kind of has. 

Just like the days running together without your notice, the ways in which your life with Ryan filled out and changed and fused with his habits and quirks happened little by little, in rest stop parking lots, in back seats of cousins’ friends’ trucks, in the corrugated steel cars of trains that carried them across the country. 

Jimmy’s buddy Al had dropped the two of you off near the train yard just as darkness fell, his tires crunching over the gravelly dirt that lined the shoulder of the road as he pulled a U-turn to head back towards town. The two of you quickly headed to the train that Ryan had picked out days earlier, climbing aboard and passing your things to one another with the same ease that you’d picked all of the items up with, getting your belongings and yourselves into the car with plenty of time to spare before you felt the click and jolt of the wheels turning and pulling under you. 

You used the time to get comfortable, situating your pack next to Ryan’s so that you could lean back against them like pillows, his arm winding around your shoulder as you both stretched your legs out in front of you. Once you really got moving, the train picking up speed, the breeze cooled you both down, and it was almost comfortable enough to forget that it was the middle of summer. It was a clear night, not a single cloud maring your view of the stars. 

You were about to point out a certain constellation when a burst of red sparks exploded in the distance followed by a loud boom. Two more rockets went screeching up into the dark sky before popping and lighting up blue in the wake of the red sparklers still floating down. 

“Fireworks…” you realized aloud, as to your left, farther on the horizon, you noticed more of the colorful explosions going off. 

“Mmmhmm, it’s the Fourth of July, Junebug.” Ryan confirmed, pointing out a third batch that had just cropped up over the top of some tall trees. “Best place to watch the show,” he adjusted his position so that he could lay back even more, getting a better view. “Get to see ‘em from all the different towns we pass through.” You settled down so that you could have the same vantage point, Ryan’s fingers running up and down the inside of your elbow. 

“Best view,” you agreed with a sigh, then turned to kiss the underside of his jaw. “With the best company.”  

It was absolutely gorgeous, the whole blackened sky erupting in pops of radiant light. You knew that hundreds of people were watching the various displays put on by the different townships from here to Omaha, but as you lay back next to Ryan the borders between towns melting away as streaks of color and smoke and light pierced the night, it felt like the show was only for the two of you. 

.

.

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Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags for a certain character or series, please feel free to let me know! :) 

Tags:  @something-tofightfor @suchatinyinfinity @malionnes @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @dearmarii @fific7 @traeumerinworld @obscurilicious @luminex3 @vetseras @blackbirddaredevil23 @paracosmenthusiast​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​

[nctinfo]

[TRANS] Johnny & Jaehyun’s interview with W Korea May 2020 issue!

Today was a day where we borrowed the cinematic imagination of the 1996 film <Romeo and Juliet" directed by Baz Luhrmann and created two Romeos. Both of you portrayed the 'Modern Day Romeo' well, how did you think the shooting went? Johnny: It felt like we came out to play. The setting too, it felt just like any small town in America. When I was leaning against the bed during the shoot, I danced excitedly while holding a bunch of grapes (laughs). Romeo, I think, is someone who is honest with his feelings and who wants to achieve love till the end. Thanks to this, regardless of what others might think, I had fun during the shoot. Jaehyun: From the Hawaiian shirts with palm trees to leopard print belts. Above all, the outfits were bold. The point of today was to act like someone who plays around and has always worn this kind of style. There was a scene [in the movie] where Romeo flips over the white blankets and plays around with Juliet, but it wasn't easy [to portray that scene] because of the blood that rushed to my face (laughs).

It’s a shame we don’t have a Juliet today. If you were to summon Juliet right now, what outfit would she appear in? And what do you imagine would be the first thing she says? Johnny: A simple outfit would be nice. For today’s shoot I was wearing a white short sleeved t-shirt and cream coloured jeans, so Juliet would have a similar vibe and would say ‘Are you doing well?’ filled with affection and excitement. Jaehyun: She’d appear in a white t-shirt and blue jeans. With a short ‘I missed you’.

There are two male leads in the movie <Romeo and Juliet>. There is Romeo who is a romanticist with rich emotions but who is hesitant in front of love, and there is Tybalt who is a calm strategist but sometimes emits fiery charms like a bulldozer. Between the two, who do you feel like you're similar to? Johnny: I think I'm similar to Tybalt who wants to be like Romeo. I'm the type of person to carry out something immediately when you decide on it. On the other hand, I want to learn from Romeo's attitude to be faithful and honest with your feelings the moment you fall in love. Jaehyun: I'm the opposite of Johnny. I think I'm Romeo who wants to resemble Tybalt's calm and analytical side. Normally, I'm the type to follow my feelings rather than reasoning, so if I had to choose between the two, it would be Romeo.

If some day your story gets made into a movie, what song would you want to be played in the ending credits? Johnny: On bright sunny days like lately the mood is refreshed and tender. If the movie will be about me in spring, then Mac Miller’s ‘Circles’ would be nice. If I ever get to make a movie in the future, any Coldplay song would be good. Coldplay’s music feels like home, music genres come and go, but in the end when I need stability I always seem to turn to Coldplay. Jaehyun: In my own movie, first of all I don’t think we need a post credit scene (laugh). I’ve always cherished Chet Baker’s ‘I fall in love too easily’. It’s a tasty song that you can listen to on repeat with an empty head, without thinking anything. Chet Baker’s trumpet performance and voice always strangely draw my ears in.

The title song 'Kick It' of your 2nd full album <NCT#127 Neo Zone> that was released in March actively incorporates the identity of cine kids hero, Bruce Lee. Taking over Bruce Lee's baton, is there a movie protagonist who you want to express musically? Johnny: Exactly two people come to mind. First, Brad Pitt from the movie <Fight Club>, I want to try a song with a strong beat with a fighter's unique fiery temperament. It would be great to incorporate the shocking twist of the movie. The other is Will Smith in the movie <The Pursuit of Happiness>. It's a 'life' movie I want to give five stars. No matter what twists and turns, it's a movie that eventually ends with a happy ending. It would be nice to sing [a song] with a message that even though it's hard now, you'll be happy in the end. A slow ballad would suit that, right? Jaehyun: Even though I acted as him today, Romeo would be fun [to express]. It would be a song that shouts love, but it would be perfect if it contains everything from joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure like in the movie. When I think of James Dean in the movie <Rebel Without a Cause> I imagine music that puts together spicey funky beats based on the old sounds of jazz bands. Recently I'm really into jazz, soul, and R&B, so a band sound is essential.

Even if it's not someone who everyone knows like Bruce Lee, is there someone you two consider to be a hero? Johnny: I don't really express it well normally, but my mom? I'm an only child that was born late, so I always stuck to my mother when I was young. Looking back, I think my mother was a person who sacrificed herself to her family but still valued her happiness. I want to resemble the way she always lives consciously while having fun. It was my mother who taught me how to feel and enjoy every moment. My mom often told me that the experience of 'trying' something is important. For example, I spent my childhood in the United States, and no matter what, we always celebrated the independence day, which is on July 4th, with family and watched the fireworks. On days when the moon was bright and full, we'd be outside watching it. Thanks to this, I think I've grown up as a person with rich emotions. Jaehyun: my grandmother. Despite nearing 80 years old, she had been a dancer until recently and is now retired. She doesn't miss the broadcasts I appear on and watches everything, and after the broadcast ends, she will always send me long KakaoTalk messages with feedback. Because she's a dancer, there are times when she points out my fingertips and neckline but in general, she tells me what kind of mindset I should have when it comes to life. I always get advice from teachers and people around me, but strangely, every word from my grandmother seems to really pierce me. [She tells me] Don't mind others, live enjoying everything you can take on. I still hold [those words] close to me.

It's been quite a while since the first stage you did in the name of NCT 127. What was the driving force behind you during this long time? Johnny: fans, members, family. Looking back, it seems like it was people that led me. Fans are the 'reason' for me to do something. The members are my companions who walk together for this reason, and wouldn't my family be my roots. Having a place to go back to is a completely different story. I think it's family that shows me that I can fall sometimes and that I have somewhere to go back to. Jaehyun: I was able to endure my trainee days purely because I liked music. It's the same now. Of course, our fans who like our music and who come and watch our stages are a great strength too. One difference is that, until now, I relied on the people around me and tried to lean my body on the 'crew', but I seem to have found a driving force within myself recently. I give myself strength by pushing myself or complimenting myself, that's how I find enlightenment within myself. In this sense, as a human, I feel like I'm going through a time of maturity.

If you could go back in time, what would you tell yourself if you could pat yourself on the back right before going up on the stage for the first time? Johnny: ‘Have confidence. Even if your spirits fall, work on everything’. I don’t know how it might have looked on the outside but my state of mind now seems to be very different from then. I’m much more free now. I kept telling myself that I’m nice and confident, and now I think I am able to stand confident like this. I don’t know why I only saw the flaws in the past. Now, rather than trying to make up for my weaknesses, I tend to focus on maximising my strengths instead. Jaehyun: ‘Do what you want, what you think is right and what you like. Of course I know you’ll do fine, but it would be nice to be a bit more daring.’

What are 3 adjectives that describe you? Johnny: Energetic, romantic, selfish. The last word I chose because I think in order to make another person happy, I need to be happy myself and only when I have a sense of security I can care for other people. Jaehyun: I like classic stuff so first of all, classic, continuous because I always try to learn and grow, and firm in terms of trying to remain as stable as possible.

What were you born with, and on the other hand what weren’t you born with that you’re trying to achieve? Johnny: Seems like I was born with curiosity. Like I’ve mentioned before, my mom has influenced me a lot. On the other hand I want to make passion my thing. Sometimes I look at the members when I’m lazing around. Everyone has their ‘one passion’! Jaehyun: Ever since I was little I would always fix the TV at home whenever it broke down. I think I’ve been born with dexterity. I seem to be good at sports, but I really need flexibility (laugh). I also want to break up with my short lived resolve. To speak, I lack persistence a little. When I really like something or if I have a clear reason to do it, my body moves. If there’s neither, I fall into the swamp of one short lived resolve to another. (laugh)

As a listener of <NCTs Night Night>, a show that was hosted by the two of you in the past, I think you were compassionate and were counselors who had shown more empathy than other people of your age. Today, let's write the concerns of you two. What's your biggest concern now after passing April 12th, 2020? Johnny: Although it's a little embarrassing to say it in words, my biggest concern these days is how to be a strength for the fans who we can't meet because of the recent situation. Most importantly, I don't want to be distressed and spend this time more meaningful. Jaehyun: What the heck to do at home! I'm the type to be very active. Nobody can go outside so I'm working hard in trying to find something I can do home alone. I've watched movies, listened to music and cooked, but I can't help but still feel the itch [to do something].

When you watch your web variety show <NCT LIFE>, you two are often seen standing in the kitchen. Is there any dish you want to make for that one precious person in the future? I wonder what the specific recipe is and what the mood of the day will be like. Johnny: First of all, I wanna make breakfast. Omelets are good to eat in the morning. Omelets are well made when you think 'even though it's bad, it's good'! Stir-fry onions and bell peppers until they become sweet, then sprinkle some pepper to finish it. The time would be good at 09:30 am when the sunlight is strong enough to see the dust. That precious one would be sitting in a chair (laughs). The table will be set with cutlery and two cups of coffee. So that you can open the morning in a relaxed and simple manner. Jaehyun: Samgyetang and stir-fried pork, is that too native? (laughs) If I had to choose one, I will pick the stir-fried pork that was also complimented on <NCT LIFE>. Sometimes only red pepper paste or red pepper powder is used for the sauce, but I tend to use both. It would be great if there was a pretty plate with fruit too, it's the perfect dessert.

Even if it’s not a cooking moment, what’s the time, place, thing or person that makes you the most gentle? Johnny: From noon to 2pm. I feel the most peaceful when the sun is shining at that time. I don’t really care about the place. As for a thing, a scented candle that I have received as a gift while filming <NCT LIFE> in Thailand. For people, anyone! Jaehyun: Late night nearing the dawn. I really like watching the night view. I think the Han River could make me the most gentle. Personal things like earphones or speakers. Being together with family would be nice.

As a person and as a musician, what time do you think you’re going through? Johnny: I always feel like I'm at the starting line. Even when I do the same thing, I have to have a new mindset in order to grow. Jaehyun: It’s a slow process for humans but I seem to be slowly becoming more mature. As a musician, when the time comes I’ll be looking from a distance thinking I’m making ‘my own’ thing.

Translation: Alex, Esmee @ FY! NCT (NCTINFO) | Source: W Korea Scans — Do not repost or take out without our permission!

[jay-and-dean]

Firefly  Chapter 3 : Nine and Twelve years old

By Roonyxx and Jay-and-dean

Pairings : future Dean x reader ?

Summary :  40 years in Hell, but he didn’t spend all this time all alone, he had her.

Prepare to know what happened during those years Dean never talks about. To immerge yourself in Hell, only lit by the mysterious kid growing here…

And to see some of your favorite villains again : Crowley, Lilith, Lucifer… And also Sammy and Jack…

Serie Warnings : Hurt!Dean, Hell (torture, even if we tried to not give it graphic descriptions, creepy demons, blood, violence), swearing, angst, future fluff and smut.

This story is in both Reader’s POV and Dean’s POV

Wordcount : 4880

Note : This is our second collaboration. We can’t both edit the same post, so we decided we would post 1 chapter/2 each, like we did for Same.

We both worked as much on this story and it’s the result of both our brains but also both our hearts.

Please, if you want to show love for this story, don’t forget we were together in this.

This story will be around 10 chapters and we intend to edit it every Saturday if nothing delays it.

Firefly Chapter 1

Firefly Chapter 2

Jay’s Masterlist

Roonyxx Masterlist

—————————————————————————————

3.

Reader’s pov

She sighed, putting the notebook down on the marble table.

“Once more” the demon ordered, weirdly scratching his chin, or rather the skin of a middle-aged lady that didn’t suit him. “I want you to know this by heart.”

“Why” Y/n frowned. “What is the point of all that ? You’re not even a real teacher ! You make me learn things that have no sense !” 

A wicked expression appeared on the demon’s face, betraying him despite that ridiculous disguise.

“Oh I’m begging you little shit, disobey again. Punishing you is the only good part of this stupid job.”  

“You’re not allowed to hurt me” she smiled with contempt. “Crowley would end you, and Lilith…”

The demon suddenly got up, grabbing her by the hair to throw her where the chains were. Immediately tying her like an animal in a circus. She tried to fight him, already regretting her words.

“I’m allowed to cage you.”

“No no no…” she instantly begged.

Last time he had done that, he left her chained for four days and no one showed up, he was the only one coming every day.

         But today, she was going to know if Sammy told John about the college letter. After several bad days in a row (days when Dean couldn’t talk, wasn’t in his cell or she couldn’t get there), she couldn’t resolve to be locked again.

“Let me out !” she groaned. “Let me out or I SWEAR !”

But the demon kept smiling, seeing the now warded chains redden without breaking.

“Please…” she finally begged, falling on her knees. “Please, I hate those chains.”

“Prime numbers” the demon just stated coldly. “Until two thousand.” 

“Two” she swallowed, looking down. “Three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen…”

          She limped in the corridor, holding on to the bloody walls with tears in her eyes, and Mister Teddy Bear against her.

         After making her start again ten times, the demon had thrown the keys at her with a satisfied smile before he left. But of course, he had given them all but one : the one holding her ankle ; just to laugh, thinking at her false hope.

         And after tugging at it furiously for an hour or more, something had finally broke. Not in the chain... but in her ankle. 

         Dean’s cell wasn’t so far now, she would make it. And she would be brave and heal, just like he did, every single day. She turned left and limped to his cell, a cold sweat dripping down her back, and finally pushed the door with a light smile.

         Her smile faded.

She was too late or too early, or Alastair just lost his temper again. Almost nothing was left of her friend. Blood and guts, pieces of bones....  

For the first time in her life, she looked away, turned around on her purple foot and left a tear fall on her cheek. Hell was an unfair place and, for years, she had just accepted it for was it was, because she knew nothing else… But now her child innocence was slowly dying, and her hate growing.

She sat on the corner of the room, making herself as small as possible, her back on what was left of Dean, holding her teddy bear against her. 

She could wait.

After a while, she could hear the little whimpers that left his mouth, a sign that he was back together.

She turned around to see him : He was panting, his clothes clung to his sweat drenched body. His eyes were still closed, not ready to face her yet, if he even knew she was there. 

She took her injured ankle and heaved it up off the ground to turn completely to him, a hiss leaving her mouth. It wasn't totally healed yet, which made her frown. She was used to injuries only lasting a few minutes, an hour eventually… But this one was bad.

His eyes opened, he probably heard her. 

“H-hey Firefly…” he sounded hoarse. 

She wiped her tear and tried to give him her best smile, but she couldn’t. Hell was weighing down on her more and more every single day, she now saw how wrong it all was. How her friend suffered every single minute down here.

“Hey…” she said a little bitterly, as she waved the arm of Mister Teddy Bear. 

His eyes raked over her, but he didn’t really seem to see her yet. They looked void of anything. He heaved himself up with his arms, his back now resting against the wall. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and opens them again. His pupils adjusted to the darkness that surrounded them. He once again took her in, frowning when he saw her cradling her foot.

“Y-You’re hurt ?” He sat up more, his hair sticked to his sweaty forehead. 

She shrugged, she would heal anyway. It’s nothing compared to what he is going through. For the first time in her short life, she thought of the act of torture, for real, not just like something that existed and filled her world, but like something absurdly cruel… Before she could really come to any conclusion, he spoke again, his voice worried like it was more important for her to be hurt, like for him, it was just the way it was… Was it ?

“Does it hurt ?” he questioned her.

She shook her head no. It did hurt, but she didn’t want to worry him, she just wanted to know more about Earth and try to take his mind off everything.

He let his head rest back against the wall.

“Where were we ?” He still had some trouble breathing, she could see it in the way his chest moved. “Oh yeah. The college letter, right ?”

She nodded, yes ! Was Sam gonna tell their dad or not ?

“Right…” he took a deep shaky breath, and she couldn’t say if it was from his body still being broken, or from that weight on his chest, he always seemed to have when he talked about his father. “So at first Sammy didn’t tell our dad, because well, he knew dad wouldn’t like it. He knew I didn’t like it.”

Of course he didn’t, she thought, he needed Sam. And being alone with his father really didn’t seem fun… For a second, she wondered what would life be with a brother or a sister. But she will never know, her own father made it very clear that her “accidental” life was enough bother. 

“I didn’t want Sammy to leave” he continued. “He’s my baby brother. I gotta look out for him.”

He fell silent suddenly, apparently strangled by emotions, a tear rolled down his face. Her own stomach felt tight, the love Dean felt for his brother always moved her deeply.

She moved a little closer and put her teddy bear in his lap, she knew he felt lonely. It was part of the torture, the loneliness… She felt it too. 

He wrapped his hand around the small, dirty bear with a tender smile, almost amused.

“Thank you.” He looked down at the bear as he continued. “He is the reason I’m here, you know. Sammy died and I… I couldn’t let that happen, so I made a deal. My life for his. I would do it again in a heartbeat. He deserves a happy life.” 

And he didn’t ? 

He was tortured every single day, just because he saved his baby brother ? That sounded… wrong.

She knew a few reasons people would give up their soul. Money, success, fame... She never understood why those reasons exactly, these things didn’t mean anything down here. Those souls, they never lasted long on the rack.

But sacrificing your own soul for Love, those were the good people, the ones that really didn’t deserve to be here. Dean was one of them.

She looked up at his face, his eyes were watching nothing in particular, but she could tell by the thousand emotions passing on his face, that he was lost in his memories.

“Sammy loves fireworks” his thumbs brushed over the blood stained tummy of the bear. She frowned at him.

“Do you know fireworks ?” He finally looked at her.

She crossed her legs, noticing her foot was healed, and shook her head no. It sounded a little dangerous to her.

“It’s a tube filled with chemicals and when you light it on fire, it shoots up in the sky and makes a colorful explosion. Many people use it to celebrate a holiday” he half smiled. “Fireworks can be blue or red, gold, green, any color you want.” He reached over to give her bear back. She took him and placed the broken toy back in her lap.

A smile came upon her face, that sounded like something she would like.

“I hope you can see it one day, well night, you can only see it at night, because light only shines in the dark. This one time I got a whole box of fireworks, i was like 19 maybe. Sammy was 15. We had some rough hunts, one after the other and I could see it was wearing down on Sam, and it was the 4th of July.”

She didn’t dare telling him she had no idea what it meant, she was used to know only a part of what he was talking about. 

“Dad forbid it, but I disobeyed. I wanted to make him smile, he was so happy…” he smile faded. “I wonder how he is now. ”

She wanted to get him fireworks, she wanted to make him smile. No, she had to make him smile, if it was the last thing she did.

“Sorry, I was talking about the letter, I just… I just remembered night sky and...” he swallowed. “At least Sammy can still see night sky, stars. You never saw stars, Firefly, right ?”

She gave him a light smile, that seemed to make him curious. 

“Did you ever see the sky ?”

“I…” she started but didn’t finished her sentence. 

How dangerous was it to speak ? For him ? For her ? For Crowley and all the “people” she knew even if she hated them all. They had made her swear.

She looked around and turned her ankle to make sure it didn’t hurt and wasn’t broken anymore. Then got up on her feet.

It was the very first time since she knew Dean, that she saw him totally healed and, above all, not chained. His body just got whole again so it was free from the iron nightmares.

She took a deep breath, and thought hard for a second : What if Alastair came here and… What is the worst that could happen if she got caught breaking Hell’s number one rule ? They would torture him… They already did that the best they could. They would probably lock her up and never let her out… 

She looked at him for a long time, searching his confused face.

“Are you okay, kid ?” he asked in a frown.

“Come” she finally answered, offering him her tiny hand.

Dean’s Pov  

He stared at her palm, trying to process what she just said. He had never escaped this room, and the few times he got out of it, a demon just took him just next door, for unknown reason. 

“You…” he said but she just kept offering her hand.

Dean was scared. He was terrified even. Years of constant torture and humiliation had made him extremely sensible to threats ; and right now, all he could think of was Alastair’s voice telling him he hadn’t done the worst he could do yet, that some places in here could make him say yes in a heartbeat, but that it was funnier this way.

He hesitated. Alastair would be furious if he found him out… But her eyes were shining, and her hand didn’t shake at all. Something so strong was radiating from her. 

He got up, and just being on his feet felt weird now. No chains, no broken knees… His hand reached hers and she closed her surprisingly soft fingers around it, smiling so wide her pretty teeth showed.

The first three or four steps he took felt extremely weird, like his body remembered how to be active, move… There was something so alive about walking.

After balking a second before the door frame, he finally got out of his cell, led by the little girl in a fancy night blue dress, that seemed to fear nothing.

“Where are you…” he started.

But she turned to him, cutting him with panicked eyes and a finger on her lips. Then she shook her head “no”, making it clear that they had to be silent.

Dean was thorn. His eyes kept roaming everywhere, and yet he didn’t want to see anything. Hell was not just a word now for him, and the screams and begging was slowly triggering some serious panic attack deep inside of him.

His hand started to sweat.

The little girl stopped in her tracks, frowns and turned to him. Her big eyes searched his face, she obviously could feel how bad he was. She tugged at his arm making him bend a little on her, never letting go of his hand.

“You stay silent” she whispered close to his ear. “You never leave my side, I know the way…”

It somehow helped. 

He had no idea who she was, but what was sure was that this tiny lovely ghost knew what she was doing.

They kept walking and he started focusing on her, and only her, forgetting the arms trying to reach them and this horrible smell of sulfur, forgetting the burning hot and the freezing cold…

The way she moved was totally amazing, fast like a rabbit then careful and slow like a hunting cat, stopping to hide behind a column before a demon even showed up, like she knew Hell’s clockwork perfectly. And it calmed Dean a little : watching her move was like watching a dance.

After long minutes avoiding many dangers, they entered a very long corridor with no doors but an incredible cathedral ceiling. Dean didn’t think he would see anything like this in Hell, anything somehow beautiful… But his Firefly was really like a beacon in the eternal night. 

“No demon” he whispered.

“No…” her little voice answered, echoing on every tall walls. “This place is empty and useless, they say.”

“Useless…” he repeated, not really understanding.

At the end of the corridor, a huge door appeared, high like a house, thousands of symbols carved on it, and two huge marble gargoyles guarding it.

“They lost the key” she whispered even lower, guiding him to the door.

“What is on the other side ?” he asked, his breathing short with a mix of fear and hope.

She stopped, and suddenly let go of his hand to plunged her small fingers in the hole where the head of her teddy bear should be. She bit her lip in concentration, searching in the foam.

A little smile appeared on her face, and she started pulling at something. 

A key.

She took it out cautiously, blowing on it a little to take off the foam dust stuck on the weird yet beautiful key. It was way too small for the giant door, and yet, she got on her tiptoes to reach the little lock he hadn’t notice.

The little girl looked behind her a last time before she made one of the huge parts of the carved door move open. 

“Come” she said.

Carefully, he slipped inside the room and his breathing got stuck in his lungs while she slowly closed the door behind her. 

The room had no ceiling. It was made of four black walls that Dean wasn’t even sure were there because of how dark it was. And above them… The sky.

The shadows of trees and and leafs in the night and between them : the stars. Exactly like he remembered it. It must have been a peaceful night of summer, because the temperature was perfect, no burning hot and no painful cold… Just a soft breeze was gently caressing his skin and he could have swore he could distinguish the thousand characteristic smells of nature, of a forest.

A tear rolled down his face, falling in his ear as his chin was up, eyes glued to the sky, the stars and the moon.

It was like the room was both in that forest and out of it, or under it, like his Firefly and him were in the bottom of a well, open on the universe.

He felt her hand wrap around his wrist and turned to her for a second. She was as fascinated as him, her big wet eyes reflecting the moon, and her hand shaking a little.

“What is this place ?” he asked, but she only shrugged, never looking away from the crescent moon. “That’s where you saw the sky, Firefly” he understood.

She nodded.

They stood here, close to each other, her small hands holding his wrist on her right and the key on the left. Tears rolling down his face, and shaking his chest in silent. Not another word was said.

After a moment, she slightly tugged at his arm, and his heart sank. How could he go back to torture now ? How cruel was it ? But he couldn’t let her get in trouble, and maybe… just maybe one day she could take him here again.

He wiped his tears and followed her without a word. The second she closed the door behind them, the harassing heat was back, and the dreadful smell was the only thing surrounding them again.

She closed the door behind her and hid the key back in her teddy bear, making sure it was on the bottom of it. Before she could start to walk back to the horror of his cell, he turned her small body to him, and sink on his knees to hold her. 

“Thank you” he breathed out. “Thank you so much.”

Her skin was cool despite the suffocating heat, like it didn’t affect her at all, and no sweat was on her soft arms or back. 

She hugged him back hesitantly, wrapping her hands around his neck, and he felt her nose shyly closer to his skin, like she needed to know how his skin smelled.

He let go before her, and get up on his feet, murmuring something about going back. She took his index finger and led him like she did on their way here. 

Dean was lost in his thoughts. About life, about Earth, about the sky and the stars, memories of not appreciating it enough, of that time he told Cassie that just watching the sky was boring…

That’s why he didn’t feel her finger let go of him in an instant. 

“Dean winchester !” a horrible demon voice groaned. 

He looked up and started shaking. The beast was wearing it’s real form, twice taller than him, with horns coming out where his eyes should have been, and extremely long claws at the end of his too big fingers.

“How did you get out !” the demon half yelled.

Dean looked around : Nothing. No clue of his Firefly presence, or that she even was there once. 

And while the beast was dragging him by the arm harshly, he wondered if it was possible that his mind was beginning to make things up... 

            Alastair was furious, even angrier than he ever was. Hitting his face again, he kept asking :

“How did you get OUT ?”

But Dean didn’t open his mouth, not once.

When that demon that had found him entered, holding the little girl by the neck, Dean had two really strong contrary feelings at once : The infinite joy of now being sure he didn’t dreamed that, and the devastating pain of seeing her struggling against that giant monster. 

“Boss, we found her hiding. You think she might have helped him ?” the demon said, making the walls tremble.

“Oh yes she might, I’m pretty sure she did…” his torturer answered with a wicked smile. 

Y/n’s pov 

The demon dropped her to the floor of the cell. 

“Oh girlie, you are in so much trouble now.” 

She saw Dean cowered against the wall, already bruised and bleeding. Arms wrapped around his body to protect himself.

He tsked his lips in a way only he could, making her shiver, and hold on to her broken toy.

“Leaving your room AND taking my pet,” an eerie grin showed his yellow teeth, “You’re in for it now.” He motioned with his two fingers to the demon to handle Dean.

She couldn’t let that happen, it was her fault, Dean shouldn’t pay the price for her disobedience. She ran to stand in front of Dean.

“No.” She said, looking up at the monster, challenging him.

 He laughed at her and she clenched her little fists and planted her feet. She knew she couldn’t stop the torture, but right now, she couldn’t let it happen. The smell of his neck still clear in her mind, the sight of his happy tears falling on his face…

“You’re gonna stop me, child ?” he bent, to face her, his long sharp teeth inching towards her face. 

She held her head high, looking him in his black eyes with rage and took a step forward, the demon moving backwards. Her breathing got faster and she felt her anger burn her skin. 

He looked down at his feet apparently surprised that with every step she took, he moved more backwards, his long nails scraping over the floor, leaving deep crescents behind. He reached his arms towards her but he couldn’t reach her, like there was an invisible wall between them. 

Waves and waves of fury pulsated through her, making her feel tall for once, making her feel strong… 

“I-Impossible” he gasped.

Her grin grew wider, her hair started floating around her again. 

But it didn’t last... 

A immense power violently slammed her back into the wall as Alastair stepped forward. She fought back the best she could but he didn’t even break a sweat.

“You’ll need a whole lot more juice to over power me, girlie.” 

He stood straight before her. His power crushing her, her breath cut short. His grin made her feel sick as his eyes travelled over her with contempt. 

Her eyes widened when he grabbed her bear clutched tight in her hand from her.

“NO !” she yelled.

Her arms fought his power, reaching out for him, but with the flick of his wrist she was pinned against the wall once again. She was fighting him with everything she got. Eyes a flare, vibrating from the power inside of her. 

She could see Dean in the corner of her eye, he looked… scared. Was it of her ?

“You disobey, you pay.” Alastair said as he held Mister Teddy Bear, his eyes turning white as he set the bear on fire.

“N-No…” tears rolled down her face. 

Her stuffed friend was the only thing that fought her loneliness, her only true friend, they had been through so much together.

As she started sobbing, seeing the quick fire of Hell turning Mister Teddy Bear to ashes in seconds, she felt her heart sink in her stomach. Her nights would be so much lonelier now with no one to hold. But her days too, everything would be empty. 

The light in her eyes died down as did the flame. Mister Teddy Bear, reduced to a pathetic heap of dust…

“Stop crying, you’re nine years old, that’s too old to have a toy.” 

Alistair patted his hands together to get rid of the black ash. But in his hands was not only ash. Shining on the floor, a little reddened by the flame : The key. His eyes widened.

“Where did you get this?!” His hand grabbed her by the throat, his power pushed down on her, making the wall behind her crack under it’s force. “WHERE ?”

“L-let her go” Dean coughed, his breathing short, but Alastair ignored him, and the other demon stepped on his chest.

She kept her mouth shut. She had snatched it off of Crowley one day when he had pissed her off, hoping it was a key to one of her chains. But it didn’t fit… 

It looked different from a normal key. It was gold, a circle with a hook on top of it and three long teeth that looked it would never fit in any lock. But if Crowley kept it, it had to be important. So she tried every lock of Hell. 

“You STUPID girl, you just earned yourself an eternity of chains and horror” he sneered at her.

“It already is my life” her tears had stopped by now. 

This key seemed like a big deal, Alistair was not one to lose his temper so easily. He put it in his pocket. Turned his head toward the beast crushing Dean’s ribs with his weight.

“Take Dean to my room, it will be one Hell of a session” he winked towards the bloody man struggling to breathe, toying with his prey, as the demon dragged him out.

Y/n didn’t wave this time, her eyes fixed on the pile of ash on the floor.

“And you” he fisted her hair, making her look up at him. “Let’s give you a taste of real Hell.”

 ___________________________

               She walked carefully in the corridor, holding her long, puffed-out muslin dress up to keep it away from the blood and dirt. 

The cold air was biting her wide cleavage, upper back and neck because her hair was held in that tight bun. She could feel the freezing gold at her wrists and neck, and hanging from her hair. Her shoes were tight and high, she hated them.

Her steps resonated against the stone walls, but she knew no demon would be around.

She needed to see him, just once, since they had played with her like a doll since this morning, and she didn’t have a second for herself.

When she pushed the door, he was held by chains again, but whole, curled up in the corner, his clothes seemed to have been mostly burned, and a heavy smell of smoke was making the air barely breathable. 

“Dean” she said.

He looked up and his face lit up, his widened eyes reflecting her fancy appearance. 

“You look like a princess” he groaned with a voice still croaky.

“You won’t see Alastair tonight” she assured him.

“Is there a party ?” he scoffed, visibly bitter like he somedays were. “Have fun.”

“No one will visit tonight Dean” she repeated again, not knowing what she could add to that.

Then she turned around in a light sigh. He had every reason in the world to be that bitter, there was nothing more to say. But the second she was going to pass the door, he spoke again :

“Don’t let them hurt you, Firefly. You fight back if they touch you…” he cleared his throat. “You look amazing.”

  She entered the ballroom with that indifferent pout on her face she kept there all the time lately. Her sad feature hidden behind that disillusioned mask she wore every single day.

The room looked like the throne room of a rich castle, and all the demons were hiding their vileness in human bodies, dressed fancy, with smiles on their faces. But they didn’t fooled her. 

They stepped aside to let her enter, turning toward her in whispers. She walked in, her back straight, her hate making her back shiver under the noble lace.

“There she is” a voice came from the crowd.

And the first demon of all, in the body of a tall blond lady appeared, she was the only one wearing a dress more sophisticated than her own. 

“Lilith” Y/n curtsied slightly, clenching her jaw.  

The demon took her face brutally in her hand to look at it with contempt and nodded slightly.

“Maybe you’re right, Crowley” she admitted, letting go of her face and turning her back on her. “Maybe your accidental offspring could be a bride or a toy for our Lord when he rises.” she turned to Y/n again to look one last time from head to toe, and muttered low. “But I’m glad I won’t be here to see that.”  

When Y/n turned to walk far from that evil shrew, she came face to face with Alastair, and goosebumped appeared on her skin.

“Happy twelfth birthday, Girly” he smiled and she swallowed the angry lump in the throat.

“Y/n !” Crowley called, probably trying to get her away from his own enemies like he always did, not to protect her, but to avoid the humiliation of seeing the Ace in his hand being despised by anyone stronger than him.

She turned to him, but felt Alastair’s hand grasp her wrist harshly. He bent next to her ear and she could smell his fetid breath.

“I hope you die.”

Next Chapter on @roonyxx​‘s blog

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[escxpiism]

triggers: drug use & drugging implications, suicidal ideation (and serious consideration!), grooming (especially july 4th!!!!!!!), kidnapping/captivity (ofc)

infection, not a phase

“ for all the times you let them bleed you, for a little peace from god you plead. ”

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

it would be a lie to say she hadn’t thought of luke’s untimely death time and time again. for all she had been told -- for the amount of times she’d been told she shouldn’t think of it as ‘untimely’ -- it remained degrees beyond difficult. he was, in many ways, her savior. but the thoughts and memories now resurfaced with a passion.

for what a terrible person she was. what she had done to repay him for the favor she had asked for. what she had done when he’d given her so much. when he’d risked himself for her.

june 13th, 2013 ; 8:43PM - 11:13 PM:

who could she turn to ? she couldn’t relent and go back, not after what anna said after allen finally took it too far. finally went past the point of no return. there was no more pretending he could love her, not after the shake’s confirmation. she couldn’t turn to a friend. they knew her friends far too well. she couldn’t turn to her boyfriend. they knew him far too well. they would all be the first and last places they would check -- assuming they would bother to check.

there was one person who she knew she could always seek refuge in. but whether he was accepting guests at that hour or not, caring for his ailing father as he was, was a gamble. but considering for too long would risk someone close to them seeing her. considering for too long would risk a return before she was truly ready. so, for the first time in years, she acted upon impulse.

rapping on the door, that familiar face came to open it. and she already saw concern in his eyes -- concern before she said anything. perhaps that was what tears generated. concern. empathy. there was a lingering pause before he finally broke the silence that she couldn’t bring herself to. “ do you need to come in ? ”

she nodded in response. need. perhaps he did know her as well as she hoped he did. after a moment’s consideration, she asked, “ am i... is your dad... ? ” and he shook his head. because he was concerned. whatever that meant, he was it.

“ no, he’s fine. he’s asleep. ” how many days of sleep did he have left ? his eyebrows furrowed, closing the door behind her. “ what... what happened ? ” and then, in the most responsible voice he could muster, “ why didn’t you go to one of your friends’ ? ”

“ that’s where they think i’m gonna be. she told me. ” and it would be easier, but she couldn’t admit defeat.

he huffed, frustrated with himself for his weakness. “ it’ll look bad if people find out i let a sixteen-year-old stay the night. ”

“ but, no -- they would have to understand. i... you didn’t have a choice -- i came to you, he hurt me. and it’ll -- it’ll just be tonight. i promise. ”

a pullout couch. blankets layered on top of each other. a sympathetic half-smile. sad. concerned. but who was he concerned for ?

“ thank you, luke. i promise -- i promise it’ll just be for the night. and i can... i can say i was in a park or something. ”

he nodded his head, that same sad smile plastered on his face. those same concerned eyes. a swollen heart. “ you know, i think you’d like santa monica. ” what beautiful parks his neighborhood possessed. he then offered a few pats, restraining himself. “ have sweet dreams, alice. ”

it was a pretty little disguise. a lozenge, wrapped in a pretty little pill ! it would be so easy. stay on that rooftop, drown in the bottle. finally be the fool who fell. or choke on her guilt as her breathing slowed beyond what she could control, allow her heart to sink in. she was there. right at the ledge of masters’ rooftop. sitting on it. legs dangling over the city. and they were in her hand. one... two... three... there could be more if she wanted.

how funny it would be. be the fool who finally falls, credit to the reason so many fools went up there in the first place. she set the bottle down. held the railing beside her with one hand, rings clanging against the metal.

august 29th, 2013 ; 3:47PM - 9:08PM:

she had gotten him wrong. beyond a wolf in sheep’s clothing -- everything off about him had always seemed nothing but endearing to her before. everything that made him a menace now simply made him so captivating before -- his penchant for keeping secrets. but what were the other secrets he kept ? who else had he had, dancing under his thumb ? who else had he enchanted, only to destroy in the end ? or was she special ? as he always said -- as she didn’t want to believe anymore. or maybe she did, but no longer for the same reason.

the keys had been dropped, a clang he didn’t notice beyond her yelling. to which he reminded her that no one could hear her. and no one was looking for her. because she was safe with him -- all reports she sent back implied safety. a wavering voice, perhaps, but one her sister wouldn’t recognize. not when they barely recognized each other’s regular voices ( something alice had tried to change one too many times, but to no avail -- if, by some miracle, she was found... what would be the use ? ) his back was turned, ever the warden in every sense of the word. but what good warden would drop the keys and not so much as realize it ?

although they were mere feet away, it was with great hesitation that she bent down to collect them. but it was with great primal urge that she rushed to him, to the door, and jammed the key inside. a click. freedom in sight. her only obstacle now in front of her, blocking her every move. overpowering her. taking her wrists as she tried with all her might to fight him. to push him out. but he stood like a rock.

“ i do everything for you. ” a calm statement. “ and this is how you repay me ? ” and it was with unfortunate ease that he forced her back into the cellar. recollected the keys. shook his head in disappointment -- disappointment in himself.

he disappeared. and how close she’d been... the closest she’d ever gotten. a collapse. how weak she was. every level -- too weak to fight through him, so weak she’d turned to him, so weak she’d let herself fall for him. so weak that he called her special. her first chance. her only chance.

...

some hours later ( she assumed ), he reentered. with a sigh, he extended an olive branch: a glass of water. and when she began fading ( this was new ), he began a slight spiel. “ i’m so sorry, alice... but you had to know this would be coming after a stunt like that. ” a promise to still shower. a promise to still take care of all necessities. but with something new, something important. “ i wish i didn’t have to do this. ”

and when she regained complete consciousness, one hand was cuffed to a metal pole within the cellar.

all hopes of escaping left her mind.

“ this is your life now. i’m sorry. ”

this wasn’t her life. this wasn’t the life she deserved. just as that wasn’t the ending he deserved. but perhaps this was the ending she deserved. a mess of broken bones, nearly unrecognizable. by the time they finally found the right person to identify her, be they one of her sisters or joey or phoenix or adri, it would be too late. they could only keep severed remains for so long -- or so she’d heard.

and pills may be too peaceful. falling asleep. not waking up. but watching death near her, watching it come straight to her from 600 feet or so. everything slowing down. her memories flashing. memories of him. memories of where she went wrong. memories of who she once was. memories of a life she once lived. memories that made her strong and memories that made her weak. memories of how everything started.

march 1st, 2013 ; 5:14PM - 5:24PM:

a neighborhood gala to ring in the honorary start of spring, a common one thrown by the adams. the show they put on was always beautiful. the perfect family, close on all fronts. for that one night, they were like the fantasy family sitcoms. she played the mini-mother, as did her sisters. they were all to act humble as their parents shared their latest achievements and accolades.

but there was a new face in the crowd this time.

“ as some of y’all may have noticed, richard wasn’t able to make it tonight. i know we’re all keeping him in our prayers... ” a moment of silence, as if he was already dead. “ but let’s all give a warm old welcome to his son and caretaker, luke johnson. he came in all the way from california just to help his dad and our friend, and if that ain’t the type of hospitality we’re looking for down here, i don’t know what is. ”

he smiled. he raised his champagne flute. he mouthed a ‘thank you’ as the inevitable clapping began. because to be introduced in such a fashion by anna adams was nothing short of an honor.

alice felt a draw to him. his silent charisma alone. and she did one thing she would always regret, for one reason or another: she walked towards him in his tan suit.

she, as she was taught in all etiquette courses, extended a hand. and he took it, shook it. and there was an immediate moment of connection.

“ i’m luke. ”

a laugh. “ i think everyone knows that after my ma’s introduction. it’s a real honor, y’know. ” she met his eyes. “ i’m alice. ”

so what was stopping her in that moment ? she’d done it before. she could do it again. and she could succeed. because, from so many feet above, there was no turning back. there was no stomach pump. there were no bandages and stitches. all there was was concrete and the onlookers of a city that never cared. from 600 feet or so above, there would not just be broken bones. there would not just be maiming. she was too close to the night sky for that.

she tilted forward, gaining a better view of the streets and all the passersby in the moonlight. the harmony of honking taxis and screaming pedestrians. the light show of times square somewhere in the distance and the neon sign of the adult shop that situated itself in front of the building. ‘open. 24 hours.’ it blinked, green and red.

july 4th, 2013 ; 7:45PM - 10:00PM:

“ i know you’ve got other traditions you’re used to, ” luke began, desperately attempting to spread out a picnic blanket, “ but i don’t think you’ve ever gotten to see fireworks from this high up, have you ? it can be a new one. ”

they didn’t have a cook-out. he just bought in-n-out. it wasn’t like home. and maybe there were aspects of home that she didn’t miss, but the annual neighborhood cook-out was one thing she truly did. even if she had to pretend her family was something it wasn’t, it was always so nice. mingling, talking to the neighbors, catching up, talking about the firecrackers ( and it was always the michaels’ kids setting them off, which was something to talk about all on its lonesome ! ). “ is this how you spend all your fourths ? ” she asked, turning to luke as he continued fighting the wind.

“ mhm. ” he nodded. “ usually i’m alone, though. ” he took a break from his battle with the wind to look her in the eyes and offer that same sad smile he had so many nights ago. “ i’m glad i’m not this year. ”

when he finally conquered the picnic blanket, punctuated by an ‘aha!,’ he was quick to set the bag on one corner and himself on the opposite. he patted the corner next to him  and she took a seat. oh, how she would be lying if she said it wasn’t a beautiful view. so high up, she felt as though she was above the entire state.

she sighed, unsure whether it was one of disappointment or content. perhaps both. but, looking at the sky as the sun set, she met his eyes and mirrored his sad smile. “ i’m glad you’re not alone this year, too. ”

and there they sat, making idle chit-chat. how was work? how was your day? only a few more months until your birthday. wasn’t your birthday exactly a month ago? i know you miss your home, but this is for the best. i know you miss your dad, i’m sorry. what were your childhood fourth traditions? do you miss them? how did you find this place? when did you start coming up here? i’m glad i could share this with you. i’m glad i could be here.

9:45PM came with ease, barely realizing any time had passed since they first sat down. the crackles in the sky were their only hint that the show had started at all. “ you know what we do every year down back home ? ” alice asked, body facing luke, eyes facing the sky.

with an enchanted smile, he shook his head. “ no -- what is it ? ”

“ so, during the show, we’ll say something like ‘that next firework’s’ some neighbor’s name. ” she shrugged. “ it’s a little dumb, i know, but... it was always a fun way to pa- ”

“ this next firework is alice, ” he interrupted. green and red shot into the air, a quiet crack. “ like that ? ” he asked, turning back to her with a smile -- a real one.

she returned that real smile and nodded. “ like that. ”

“ you had a pretty firework, i’m a little bit jealous. ”

“ well... this next firework’s luke. ” and into the air went a loud blue and purple explosion. “ see ? you got a pretty firework too. ”

and into the night they went, naming fireworks after each other until the show was over. until they deemed the finale them.

if it were the daytime, perhaps she would have had an audience by now. she was putting on her very own show, wasn’t she ? after all, if she couldn’t go to prison for him, the least she could do was join him. why had she let him do it alone ? why had she taken the gun ? and why did it only have one bullet ? something so off about that single bullet.

october 26th, 2013 ; 7:11PM - 7:14PM:

she failed. she had chosen the keys in favor of his overdosed body. but what a good actor he had been. saline solution. just saline solution. ( or perhaps he was bad, but she was too out of it to realize. )

whatever the case, it had been some hours. maybe some days. before he reentered for anything other than the average schedule. open door. close. lock. tuck away. “ i need you to know that i’m not a monster, ” he prefaced, withdrawing a vinyl copy of stevie nicks’s ‘bella donna’. “ i’ll bring down the record player with dinner. ”

she cocked her head to the side. a gift. remorse ? perhaps. but he had done this before, and all she’d received was an apology.

“ i wouldn’t starve you out on your birthday. happy seventeenth. ”

march 10th, 2014 ; 11:09PM - 11:15PM:

the last date she remembered was christmas. she had lost count since. how many days, weeks, months it had been, she wasn’t sure. he would still take her out of the room for extended periods of time every now and again. and for that, she remained grateful. he would never let her leave. she knew that. but at least he created illusions.

the door opened. it did not lock. it did not close. he stood in the doorway. he walked over. she said nothing. he looked into her eyes. she saw sadness. she saw fear. she saw happiness. he was always hard to read.

he took the keys from his pocket and undid the handcuff. it was hard to process. a free hand. an open door. the only obstacle was, once again, him. but her automatic response was not to run. he set the keys down on the island. “ can you stand ? ”

she could. she did.

“ i know the end is near, and i don’t want you to remember me like... that. i want you to remember me like this, or like the guy i was when we watched the fireworks. do you remember that ? ” he began, that familiar sad smile accompanying his question. and she nodded. “ i’m going to close my eyes and stay here for ten seconds. do whatever you need to do, ” he stated, sliding the keys in her direction before covering his eyes and beginning to count down from ten.

this was her chance. her first, true chance. she slowly slid the keys off the table, taking five of the numbers in his countdown to do so. but she didn’t move any further. why didn’t she move any further ? it was as though she was paralyzed from the waist down. would she miss this ? would she miss him ? was this truly all she knew now ?

was this her life now ?

when he uncovered her eyes, saw her still standing there, that sad smile returned. “ you should’ve gone, alice... but thank you. ” he gently took the keys from her again. “ i’m sorry, ” he stated as he attached the handcuff again. “ i’ll make a good breakfast tomorrow. ”

and she slid down the pole, unsure of what had just happened. but as he tucked the keys back in his pocket, she heard them clang against another piece of metal.

there weren’t just two obstacles.

there was only one obstacle now. but it was one she always had such difficulty beating. she could never get her feet to move when she wanted them to, not when it was important. so there she remained, the very edge of the ledge, feet against the side of the building. one push off. one stretch of her legs.

another ‘pill.’ round it out. numb it. move forward. an inch away. perhaps she can be seen now. perhaps she would be like those movies. a crowd gathers in morbid curiosity. everyone both does and does not want her to fall.

and how close she was. until the nightshift remembered the roof. and there was a comprehensive list of people she would always refuse to traumatize: one of whom was sal.

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

[prince-of-elsinore]

On the Weechesters that could have been

Or, Supernatural has a flashback problem

So, I've been thinking a lot about Dean's confession ("I didn't know what I would've done if I didn't have you," "it was always you and me") and how it shapes my view of season one and my pre-series headcanons. On the one hand, it really only confirms what we could already infer, but on the other, it enshrines as canon, beyond a doubt, just how big a deal the events of the pilot were to Dean, how much he wanted and needed Sam in his life. Meaning Dean already knew back then that Sam was it for him. It's possible he didn't fully examine or accept this until after Sam had left, but either way, the groundwork for that need was laid in their childhood. Despite various complaints Dean has voiced over the years (either jokingly or seriously) about having to look after Sam, all he wanted at 26 was to have his brother at his side again, and that could only arise from true affection and attachment--and yeah, an unhealthy dose of codependency.

And we know the affection and codependency run both ways, even if it wasn't as explicitly stated on Sam's part, especially in season one. Personally, I trust Jared Padalecki to understand Sam best, and he's said that Sam's happiest moment was committing to getting back on the road with his brother--despite the fact that back then, Sam's assumption was that he would return to his normal life after they found Jess's killer. Jared has also said something to the effect of "Sam loved his father and brother so much he had to leave" which definitely reframes his decision to go to Stanford--because of, rather than in spite of, his love. How to make sense of these statements? They only track if Sam really is just as smitten (in the platonic sense) as Dean. In spite of whatever resentment he had towards Dean, he loved him (keep in mind, the deeper the love, the deeper the potential resentment) and, importantly, liked him, and was intrinsically tangled up in him. Everything Sam does and says makes perfect sense if you accept that Sam loved his family, but hated hunting. Of course he's upset that the father and brother he loves and needs go out and risk their lives all the time. He's right to be. And of course he would be especially upset that his brother doesn't even try to imagine a different life for himself, that he takes their father's word as law despite the damage it does to Dean. And, when Sam finally does leave, it hurts him that Dean doesn't try to understand his decision because it would shake Dean to his foundations to consider that Sam might be right, let alone to consider following him out of the life (as I believe Sam would have preferred, though he probably knew it was a lost cause). Dean can only see it as Sam abandoning him, even though for Sam it was always about leaving hunting, never about leaving his brother. Sam wanted nothing more than his brother on his side, by his side, and it broke his heart when Dean seemed to choose John over Sam. The tragedy of the Stanford split is that Sam and Dean each thought their worst fear was confirmed--for Dean, that Sam didn't need him, and for Sam, that Dean hated him--even though this really wasn't the case.

So, why this digression about the old Stanford grievance and the boys' headspaces in the pilot? Because I wish so much we got to see how they got there--and the flashback episodes, for the most part, do not show us. In fact, there's a frustrating pattern of flashbacks that don't really corroborate this textually-supported characterization of young Sam and Dean. Almost universally, the flashbacks concentrate on the brothers in isolation from each other, either physically or emotionally (or both). That's not to say that they're all bad episodes or that they don't reveal other important information about Sam and Dean. It does, however, give an overall skewed impression of their "normal" as kids, and presents something of a paradox in considering the Winchesters' childhood. We see, textually, that the brothers must have been extremely attached to each other growing up, beyond just Dean's sense of duty to look after Sammy (which is hammered home again and again, and again...), but this isn't the impression most flashbacks give. Let's take a closer look:

1x18 Something Wicked--Sam is too young to be much of player. It's all about Dean and his sacrifices/responsibility for Sam--all important stuff, but aside from Sam offering Dean the prize in the cereal box, there isn't much evidence of actual affection between them. Dean appears only put upon--fair enough for a young kid given such (way too much!) responsibility, but it's to the complete exclusion of any potential positive emotion, even fondness, for Sam.

3x08 A Very Supernatural Christmas--This flashback is the exception, and it's why it's my favorite! This was a crucial moment for the brothers in their young lives, when they chose each other over anyone else. Sam trusts Dean, not his father. Dean tries to put on a nice Christmas for Sam because he feels it's his job, yes, but he then experiences genuine gratitude when Sam gives him the pendant. They lean on each other. They comfort each other. In short, we see the why and the how of their relationship. I wish every flashback accomplished what this one does.

4x13 After School Special--The focus is mostly on Sam and his relationship with Barry and that English teacher, with a big emphasis on Sam's dissatisfaction with his life. That's super important, but I can't think of any moment between Sam and Dean that reads like anything other than pretty average brothers... which they are decidedly not. The episode drives home the diverging desires of the brothers more than anything.

5x16 Dark Side of the Moon--Not strictly a flashback episode, but we do glimpse important memories in Sam and Dean's heaven. Dean's 4th of July memory is iconic for a reason--it's one of those rare moments we really see why these brothers feel the way they do about each other. They're having actual fun together--the only time we get to see young Winchesters doing that! We all know which of Sam's memories were in heaven, though, and how that made Dean feel. Now, it makes sense that Sam would cherish moments when he was getting away from The Life, but the fact that the writers again chose to prioritize this (beat a dead horse, one could say), over showing a single good memory Sam had of the family he supposedly (actually, really!) loves, feels wrong and motivated solely by the plot's need for more artificial brother drama. Could anyone really blame a casual viewer for believing that Sam doesn't love his brother as much as Dean loves him? And yes, one can make excuses--Sam probably had lots of heaven memories of Dean that weren't shown! Zachariah was messing with them!--but it's still on the writers to make that clear.

5x23 Swan Song--I'm including this one for the flashes we get of little Sam and Dean in the Impala. These are beautiful moments, but it amounts to telling, not showing: we get toy soldiers and legos, and a brief shot of Sam and Dean carving their initials. What we don't see is the impetus behind that action. We are essentially told how to feel about these things. (Don't get me wrong, I think it's still a really well done episode and I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel exactly what it wanted me to feel--I'm just pointing out a pattern.)

7x03 The Girl Next Door--Dean is only present as a voice on the other end of a phone call (do we even hear him? Can't remember. Don't think so). Oh, and Sam has doubts, yet again, about hunting monsters. Hm, I think we've been here before. Sam has an instant connection with a girl he just met and he seems ready to put her before his family. I get that he doesn't want her to die, which is sympathetic. But again, one would be forgiven for thinking he does not care about--or even actively hates--both John and Dean. Maybe he does hate them a little bit in this moment, and wouldn't that be interesting to explore? (Cue Jared saying Sam had to leave because he loved John and Dean so much! He couldn't stand the thought of it all turning to resentment! It makes so much sense!) But, alas, the episode just doesn't go there.

9x07 Bad Boys--This time it's the Dean show, and we get to see Dean finding happiness away from his family, even if he needs some time to warm to the apple pie life. Okay, cool to know this about Dean. And the moment at the end is interesting, and gratifying for brothers fans, since Dean doesn't seem pulled back out of a mere sense of grudging obligation to Sam--he gives such a genuine, loving smile when he sees him. He wants to go back to Sam. But it's just a gesture, telling rather than showing again. We don't know why Sam makes him feel that way.

11x08 Just My Imagination--The only brother interaction, over the phone, doesn't reveal much about how the brothers feel about each other, though it does hint that Dean would ultimately come down on their father's side when John and Sam were at odds. Dean asks John, on Sam's request, to bring Sam along on a hunt, but he doesn't press the issue when John refuses. If anything, this leaves me more curious than ever about what the good in their relationship looked like, if Sam was so often disappointed by Dean's kowtowing to their father.

Sully seems a bit like English Teacher 2.0, encouraging young Sam to figure out what he wants for himself and reject the family business. I think it's quite well done and sweet, actually, and it's nice that in the end Sully actually thanks adult Dean for looking after Sam (how rare for anyone to acknowledge that), and Dean likewise comes to appreciate Sully. In the flashbacks, we learn that Sam was eager to join in hunts when he was little, which is interesting and sad when you think about how that changed. Already, though, he must feel pretty ambivalent, because he's seriously considering running away at the same time. Ultimately, Sam chooses his family--articulating that what he wants is to be with his dad and Dean--and rejects Sully's message of self-determination. He makes the decision that may not be best for him, but he's motivated by love. It seems in character, and hints at the claustrophobic pull of the Winchester family. Yet again, though, we are left to fill in the blanks ourselves about why Sam wants to be with his dad and Dean. In fact, the motivations for his two apparently conflicting desires--to stay or run away--are never very clearly laid out. We don't know what, specifically, Sam doesn't like about the hunting life, when part of him also wants to hunt, and we don't know what it is about his family--what good memories, desires, or needs--that draws him back to it.

15x16 Drag Me Away (From You)--It's unfortunate that the young actors had no chemistry whatsoever, but the script also didn't do them any favors as far as displaying their dynamic. Dean has a moment of vulnerability (if you squint) over Sam thinking about college, but aside from that, it's almost amazing how little the brothers interact, given that they're staying in a motel together, on their own. What a missed opportunity. Can you imagine if the episode had focused even a little more on Sam and Dean, rather than on their interactions with those other random kids? If it had given us just a fraction of the relationship "A Very Supernatural Christmas" managed to show in such an understated, poignant way? You wouldn't know these brothers liked or loved each other from this episode. When Dean said "We made a good team" I was honestly baffled because they barely did anything together. You could argue Dean was reaching with that statement because he was desperate, but again, there's nothing actually shown to back that up.

Ultimately, what these flashbacks show can all be true--it doesn't negate what we know about Sam and Dean from the show's present. Of course, like any brothers, they teased and annoyed the hell out of each other. Of course they had vastly diverging desires for themselves and their lives--that's sort of the premise of the show and characters in the early seasons. These aspects of their relationship are true, but these aspects are not the whole story, which is why it's frustrating that almost every flashback focuses exclusively on these things. From the flashbacks alone, you might think Dean is only about "protect Sammy" (and later, "order Sammy around") and Sam is only about "I hate my life (and by extension, family)." Most of us could tell all along--and the finale confirms--that there's another story underneath this one, though, of two brothers who are soulmates, destined to find each other like magnets again and again.

But this requires the astute viewer to do a lot of legwork in characterizing the brothers' childhood dynamic beyond what's shown--partly as a result of some logistical and practical issues (especially with child actors), to be sure, but mostly of lazy writing. There's a difference between respecting your audience's intelligence enough not to spoon-feed them every detail, and expecting them to pick up the slack and make excuses when your characterization and plotting is inconsistent or one-note. This is far from the most egregious example of this in Supernatural, but the finale had me thinking more closely about what is canon for the pre-series era, and it drove home how much it applies to the flashbacks.

So what would I have liked to have seen? What it comes down to is interaction between the brothers. The only flashback where we have both brothers in equal focus, interacting with each other rather than outside characters, is "A Very Supernatural Christmas." It's impossible to show the progression and significance of a relationship when you consistently show only one side of it at a time (or don't even focus on said relationship when both parties are in the same room--looking at you, 15x16). Sam and Dean are the heart of the show, and they should have--together--been the heart of the majority of flashbacks. It's not that Sam wasn't a lonely kid, but as Dean says to Sam in "Just My Imagination": "You had me!" Of course, Dean's memory is skewed--he isn't thinking about all the times he went off with John on a hunt and left Sam behind, and hell, even when Dean was supposed to be babysitting, we know from "Plucky Pennywhistle's Magical Menagerie" that he sometimes dumped Sam. But I can't believe that Dean is totally wrong, either. Sam and Dean must have been each other's best--only--friends, living the life they did. What we see rarely looks like friendship, and it certainly doesn't track as a basis for the codependency we see in the series present, starting with the pilot. That didn't come from nowhere, though.

I would have loved to have seen that first hunt Sam went on in Milwaukee, after he left Sully. I would have loved to have seen Dean, proud of his little brother becoming a hunter. Or Dean, looking out for Sam on a hunt (and treating Sam's peril like a bigger deal than he does in 15x16, where it barely phases him). I wish I'd seen the moment that made Sam reject a future as a hunter, after his initial excitement. Did something happen on a hunt? Was it the violence of it? The brutality against a monster with a human face? Or the peril? Was there a moment when Sam's life was in danger? Or perhaps, a moment when John's or Dean's was, that scared Sam even more? I wish I'd seen Sam grappling with how leaving hunting would mean leaving the family he loves. I wish I'd seen him mention it to Dean, try just once to convince him to try a different life, and get shot down. I wish I'd seen more of the Dean who wants to give Sammy the world, struggling with the increasingly impossible task of balancing Sam's wants and needs with John's orders. Dean, caught in the middle of their arguments and torn apart by it. Sam, hurt when Dean doesn't back him up. Dean, terrified that Sam might actually follow through with that college pipe dream. Perhaps all of this would have been indulgent (not to mention difficult to film, with the right child actors and JDM), but even part of it would have allowed for some nuanced characterization.

More than anything, though, I would have liked to have seen a few more of the good memories, because they are actually important to understanding the characters and the story. It's not about fluff; it's about showing rather than telling. What are the good memories that made Sam love Dean and even his dad? Sam's anger towards their father is all the more compelling and believable if there is a fierce love underneath the layers of resentment and betrayal. And you know what's even more sad than a kid whose dad didn't make it home for X occasion? A kid whose dad did come home, just once, and the kid who enshrines that one perfect memory because they don't realize how messed up it is that it's such a rarity. Or, if it wasn't John making it home for one holiday, maybe it was the one time Sam remembers getting John's approval in some way--it could be any number of small things. The good that a character holds onto, no matter how small a scrap, says a lot about them. And the same goes for Sam and Dean. Where was Sam the social outcast, wanting but struggling to fit in, grateful that at least he doesn't have to put on a pretense of normality around his brother? Dean, feeling the same, though he'd never admit it? Dean, talking Sam up rather than tearing him down? How they felt safe, comfortable, only with each other? Even if they both had to act a certain way to earn the other's approval or admiration, that act must have felt worth it for the reward. Where was the Sam that looked up to and tried to emulate Dean, and the Dean that cherished that more than anything? Where were the moments of fun, the contentment Dean felt when he managed to put a smile on Sammy's face? The small acts of rebellion that united them, however briefly, against both their father and the world? The fireworks scene has to do so much heavy lifting all on its own, in the face of all the flashbacks that repeatedly give the opposite impression.

People are complex, of course, and we're fortunate to have two such complex characters as Sam and Dean. Both the good and the bad of their childhood, and their relationship with each other, are true, but the writers chose to emphasize one side much more than the other when it came to the flashbacks. As much as I'm a believer in the power of the audience's imagination and of transformative works, it is still up to the writers to guide that imagination in a certain way. Unfortunately, in the case of the flashbacks, that guidance is off-track and unbalanced at best, and negligent misguidance at worst. The story of Sam and Dean only makes sense with a more balanced picture. It only works if it really is about two brothers who love each other more than anything. It only makes sense if there's much more to their childhood relationship than we were shown. Now that the series is over, we won't be getting any more flashbacks (unless prequel series? Unlikely haha), so we're left to fill in these gaping blanks on our own. At least the finale gave us some good crumbs to work with.

[marcilled]

5 years

It was 5 years ago today that a humble little minecraft server first opened its gates. 5 years ago, I started @quixol​ with a team of 8 friends. Today, only 4 of those original friends are still on our Staff team, and the server is a shadow of its former self.

There’s a lot I could talk about with Quixol, but before I get into it, I just want it to be known that this is a highly personal post from me. This isn’t an official announcement, but seeing as I’m an admin, it’s definitely of pertinence if you are someone who is a part of the Quixol community.

If you’re new to following me, or just don’t know what I’m talking about: Quixol is a trans-friendly minecraft server started by me and a few pals back on November 16, 2015. It’s primarily populated by folks from here on Tumblr, and is an LGBT+ only community. Over its 5 years, it’s gotten over 1600 unique players. And... Well, there’s a lot of history that took place during and after that, I can’t hope to summarize it here. You can see more on the about page on our blog.

So, yeah. Today is the 5-year anniversary of Quixol. Pretty big deal! And... we have nothing in store for today to celebrate that huge milestone. Pretty big bummer. The prior 4 years, the anniversary was the single biggest celebration of the year. We typically tried to schedule large server updates to coincide with the anniversary, just to make it feel that much more special. So, on the day that marks a whole half-decade of being online, why do we have no plans? It’s a long, complicated story. I’ll only be able to tell you my side of it. Everything written below is from my perspective, and doesn’t necessarily reflect how others think or feel.

Regardless of the lonely feeling on the server now, I just want to say, I’m really glad I could host such a fantastic community for so many years. Thank you everyone who has made the past half decade so special.

Long retrospective below (plus, discussion about Quixol’s future):

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Where to begin... All I can say at the start here is, don’t expect anything coherent, I typed this up while sleep deprived just the night before posting this, without much forethought of what I’d say in it. I just feel I need to get these feelings off my chest before I can mentally move on, you know.

Before I delve into this, I just want to put this sort of disclaimer at the top here: Despite how gloomy I make things sound throughout this post, Quixol is and was an amazing place, that I’m so glad to say I got to play such a pivotal role in. I wouldn’t trade my time here for anything. It’s been an honor to serve as an Admin over such an incredible community. I’ve seen countless new friendships forged, plenty of laughs and fun times to be had... I’ve even known several couples that met through their time on Quixol, I’ve known several people that came out or discovered more about their identity/gender/sexuality while on Quixol. It’s a great community, despite its flaws, and what we did over these past 5 years is nothing short of spectacular. I’m forever thankful for everyone who helped make this place as special as it is- you’ve all been such great friends. Thank you.

While I may speak a great deal about some of the lowest lows that happened on Quixol, you better believe it had some of the highest highs as well. Keep that in mind, so you know why I’m spending this much time and effort to commemorate this server that I’ve called home for so long.

I’ll start here with a rough timeline of Quixol... I’ll even include some screenshots for you all.

Old World (Nov. 2015 - Mar. 2017, mc 1.8 - 1.9)

Quixol began back in 2015 like I mentioned- whitelisted at first, but moved on to being unwhitelisted at a later date (I believe it was summer of 2016). Hundreds of people joined after the whitelist was removed, in just the first month or so. We owe that initial success to how much our blog post about the server got shared around, it served as a nice advertisement for the server. It was only posted to tumblr, so everybody who joined then was from the same sort of social sphere of 2016 tumblr. It was pretty lively, and we made lots of friends very quickly. A lot never logged in again after the first initial burst, but a fair amount stuck around.

The server started on minecraft version 1.8, which was before the end update that introduced elytra & all the controversial combat changes. Most people never even saw the server on this version, though, since it was still whitelisted when we updated to 1.9. The world we used back in 2015-2016 eventually got deleted at a later date, however we did provide an archive of this old world to download, it’s... somewhere on our blog, you can go find it if you poke around a bit. (Assuming the download hasn’t been removed from the website I uploaded it to, which would make sense since it’s just 20 gb sitting on some server doing nothing).

While there was plenty of merriment, there was also the fair share of drama. I can’t even hope to recall all the drama that happened in 2016, but one of our og mods got banned completely after the rest of the staff sort of woke up to the realization they were incredibly abusive. There’s lots of other stuff that happened then- I wish I could tell the “full tale” as it were, but it would be so long-winded that almost nobody would bother to read. Plus, my memory isn’t very good, so I would need to dig through old blog posts, discord messages, screenshots, etc etc to jog my memory... way too much work.

Protos (Mar. 2017 - Nov. 2018, mc 1.11 - 1.12)

2017 came around, and that’s when we updated the server to 1.11 and created a new world (Protos). That update happened on March 26, 2017- I remember because march 26th is my birthday, and the other staff made a cute little celebration for me on that day and I literally cried from how happy I was. It was the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a long time. (God, I miss those times.)

A lot more happened during this time period, and honestly I’d consider the period in which Protos was our main, active world to be the most consistently active the server has ever been. It wasn’t always exploding with activity, but the people who joined and played during this time were consistent. And we had a relatively consistent influx of new players.

There was a lot more drama that happened during this time... More staff members left, mostly of their own accord (but never on a wholly positive note). Drama amongst some of the veteran/long-time players, arguments over how to interpret and enforce our rules.

Regardless of the troubles, I’d say this period was overall quite positive for Quixol. We even brought in our first batch of new staff members during this period.

Ghalea (Nov. 2018 - Present, mc 1.13 - 1.15)

I believe late 2018 was when we updated the server from 1.12 to 1.13. We rushed the update to this version quite a lot, which was a shame since it ensured the server had an egregious amount of bugs to work out, and lots of missing plugins/functionality. With this update, we made another new world (and, our current main world): Ghalea.

Regardless of buggy behavior, we managed to hit what I believe is the all-time peak concurrent player count we have ever gotten, which is something like 54-56 players playing at the same time. The server chugged so hard, I’m surprised it didn’t crash. All of those parties were so stressful to put on, but at the same time, incredibly fun and fulfilling to see when lots of people showed up and had a good time.

Funny, though: despite the success of the server, 2018 and early 2019 are the closest the server has ever gotten to absolutely tearing itself apart from internal staff drama. By early-mid 2019, several staff members ended up getting banned one after the other. So that left us with very few staff by that point (only 6 active staff, myself included, if I remember correctly).

2019 should have been a great year for Quixol, seeing as it was what many people referred to as the “minecraft renaissance”, “the great minecraft revival”, etc etc etc. However, the drama amongst the staff, coupled with drama in our personal lives, and just an all around lack of staff members to kick things into gear, resulted in a pretty lackluster year compared to the previous 4 years.

Despite all of that, we worked tirelessly to complete our greatest project yet, Chroma Park, just before our 4th anniversary on Nov 16th, 2019. It took a whole team of builders to complete, and several months in preparation/building.

With such a grand project completed, you would expect it would result in a flurry of new activity on the server... unfortunately, it ended up being almost the opposite. Because we called upon our “build team” to help with it, (several talented veteran players who volunteered their building skills), nearly all of our active players suffered some serious burnout after the major project they just completed. Lots of people just weren’t feelin’ up to minecraft anymore... And, that spelled the beginning of the end, really.

The culmination of this was that, going into 2020, activity on the server just... plummeted. Then, we all know what a shit year 2020 turned into. That just furthered feelings of burnout. I made another personal post about this, back in April- explaining why I had been relatively absent from the server for a while. It goes into more detail about the “hiatus” at that time, what caused it, why it continued so long, and how my personal feelings were at that time. Give it a read if you want. It even goes more in-depth about some of Quixol’s former staff, and how toxic behavior from them may have negatively impacted the community (especially in 2018-2019).

So, basically nothing has happened on Quixol in 2020... I took the time to update the server from 1.14 to 1.15 back in July, just so that the server was on a more stable version of minecraft- but all the effort poured into that resulted in basically nothing happening. Barely anyone even noticed, because it was such a minor update focusing on bug fixes. I hoped it would get the ball rolling again, but it just wasn’t enough.

While I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel just yet, I decided it was for the best if I put any plans on the backburner for a while, and focus more attention on building infrastructure back up again. I spent some time researching sysadmin stuff, and looking into upgrading my PC. I set up a new discord bot that we’re currently using on Quixol, & have in a few other discord servers I’m active in.

Then, I got tossed one of the most difficult months of my life in a long time pretty recently. It’s very recent/fresh, but suffice it to say, a decent chunk of what made it such a horrible month was related to drama within the Quixol friend group, particularly... me being a shitty friend. I made another post about this a while back, but I won’t link it since it’s a bit vague and not super relevant to what I’m talking about here. Just know, September this year pretty much demolished any feelings of hope I had for continuing work on Quixol.

So, that leads us to... Today. The 5th anniversary of Quixol.

Where did it all go wrong?

Now that I’ve laid out as quick a summary of the past 5 years as I could, I want to talk about some of the mistakes we made along the way. The people that made Quixol what it is, and how that history always seems to tie me down.

To tell you the truth, saying that “it all went wrong” sounds horribly pessimistic to me. Sure, I felt pessimistic going into writing this, but... Just looking back on everything we’ve accomplished, there’s never really a point where it “went wrong”. Moreso, Quixol has had its fair share of flaws baked in from the very beginning. But, perhaps those flaws are what made it what it really is. I can’t go back and change the past, and neither can you. Perhaps the best we can do is just accept Quixol for what it is, and acknowledge its shortcomings while allowing ourselves to feel happy about the good memories we do have.

While I’m not going to cast away every pleasant memory I have of Quixol, I must admit I find so many of them tainted and forever changed, just because of how many people entered this community, made their stay known, then left or were cast away on a sour note. There are countless people that were a huge part of Quixol, of my life, my friends, that I don’t speak to anymore. People that hate me. Maybe even some that I hate.

If I go back and think fondly of those times, I remember how the people in those memories largely don’t think fondly of me anymore. I remember all of my mistakes, all of the ways I could have avoided that outcome. All the ways I could have worked with those friends, to work out our differences, to just fucking communicate. Sure... some of those friends, there was nothing I could do for them. Nothing I could do to make things work. But, all the same... it stings, thinking of everyone I used to know. Not knowing who is still a friend, or who simply has no need for me anymore...

So much of Quixol’s history is tied up in knots this way. Complicated webs of emotion, suffocating in the tethers to its past. So many things built on the server, just wasting away, never to be touched again... New players won’t even know it. They don’t know, can’t know the history behind those blocks that were placed. It sounds a bit silly talking about it this way, but that’s how it feels to me. There’s real history behind each of these blocks, all of the little farms and structures and silly signs. So much of it, nobody even knows. But it wears on my heart, knowing all of that history, and feeling so disconnected from it. Feeling cast away by the people who forged those memories.

It’s a disconnect that’s always hurt, to me. Maybe I’m just too sentimental, nostalgic. Maybe I cling to the past too much. But it feels impossible to ignore... So much of what made Quixol what it is today was left there by people who want nothing to do with me, us, anymore. What does that say about Quixol? About me...? About our group?

There’s a lot I could say about this, but it’s stuff I’ve mentioned before. I hang on too tightly to the past, and am often too critical of my own mistakes. But, sometimes the past is just the way it is, and there’s not much that can be done about it. Regardless, I find myself feeling regrets about every little thing that went wrong, and thinking about where all those people are now... Maybe one of them is even reading this right now. If you’re out there, hey. We can still talk. I’m not going to hold a grudge on you forever. It’s ok.

My influence

Since Quixol began in 2015, I’ve tried my best to be nothing more than an “Admin” of Quixol... not the “owner” or “lead admin” or “founder”, just “admin”. I hoped I could encourage the other admins to be leaders in their own rights. While each of the admins we’ve had has been great leaders in their own respect, I feel that every one of them has been, unfortunately, tied down by my influence to some extent.

In most aspects of life, I’m a very timid, indecisive person. I’m incredibly anxious, and lack confidence to a worrying degree. However, a different side of me can be seen in the safe, comfortable environment that Quixol provided for me. Surrounded by friends and people who I felt really got me, I became comfortable enough to show some level of confidence in myself... In all honesty, for a long time, I was never able to recognize this self confidence for what it was. I really was not, and mostly still am not, used to feeling confident in myself or my own abilities. Like, at all. So when I actually feel good about myself, like I actually know what I’m doing... Well, for a really long time, I didn’t even process it as such. I just felt like I knew the right answers, and that was it.

On Quixol, this often manifested in a specific way... Being proud of my own knowledge & skills with minecraft, I would insert myself into any discussion about Minecraft, the server, or just anywhere I could, and offer up my knowledge, opinions & help. This hardly sounds like a problem, but... The problem was just in my unwavering presence. I was everywhere on Quixol, you couldn’t escape me. I dominated the space with my presence. Not that I interrupted people (usually...?), I just would try to put myself anywhere a conversation was happening, assuming it was, like, appropriate for me to do so on some level.

Whenever I chimed in with my thoughts, eventually there became this sort of air of almost... superiority about it. This feeling that my word was “final”, or that I had some layer of expertise on everything, and that if I said what you said was right, that was a pretty good indicator you were on the right track. I didn’t pretend like I was infallible, and I don’t think anyone ever saw me as that. But the perception was generally that if Vivian says it, that holds weight to it. Perhaps this is somewhat unavoidable of a staff member, but... it was this way even amongst the staff.

I never really realized that I was creating this environment within the community, because it happened rather slowly. But as things moved along, other staff began to pick up on this (perhaps subconsciously). Including even the other admins. Quickly, my own insistence on doing things a Specific Way, became “the Right Way” to do things on Quixol... Whether I intended it or not.

Now, this is something I didn’t know until quite recently, but I actually have OCD (undiagnosed, but it’s glaringly obvious to me at this point). My ocd comes out in minecraft, and specifically Quixol, quite a lot. I have very ritualistic ways of doing things, whether it be while building a project in-game, to managing specific parts of the server- we have a very detailed format in which update logs are written, and I have very specific rituals related to updating plugins on the server, taking backups, etc. Even just the way I play survival minecraft has sorts of rituals in a way, like specific patterns in which I place torches. I’m not too educated on ocd, so excuse me if I’m using some terminology of this wrong, or if I’m spreading some sort of misinformation about it. This is just my experience.

Anyhow, with the extremely regimented way I manage things on the server, coupled with my constant presence in things, you can understand how this might lead to other admins, who have their own mental illness issues, to become very averse to doing a lot of admin-related duties. After months and months, years, even, of this sort of stuff... and... yeah. That leads to where we are now.

With my selfish behavior in the past, I’ve unintentionally created this staff environment where people are reluctant to make their own decisions, show their own creativity, etc. And that must feel incredibly frustrating if you actually want to do something to make a difference on Quixol...

I’m not even accounting for all the times I’ve butted heads with the other staff before, either. While much less frequent, I’ve definitely had arguments with folks in the past. And with the great amount of influence I hold over the server, it takes a lot of courage to stand up to what I say.

I’ve always resented that I hold this position of power over everyone else, and tried many times to address it. However, I don’t think I ever quite had a full picture of why things were this way. Now, I think I understand it better. Sadly, it feels too little, too late to make any significant changes without uprooting pretty much everything we have set in place already. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m being too pessimistic here... But, this is how I feel at the present moment.

I’m sincerely sorry to any current or former staff members, who have wanted to do something great for Quixol, but felt they could never convince me to go through with your idea... Or who felt pushed away from doing something they otherwise would’ve liked to, just because the attitude I gave, the environment my presence created, made you feel like you weren’t good enough or qualified enough to do it. You are good enough. I’m so sorry that my actions made you convinced otherwise...

I will say, this sort of mindset of mine, that I have to be the Most Right about anything relating to minecraft, or any hyperfixation/special interest of mine, has caused problems elsewhere, too. I talked about this in another post I made. I’ve only really come to realize all this stuff within the past few months, but I’ve been a really terrible friend to a lot of people. I never even realized until recently just how often I struggle with empathy, and how that’s colored so many of my friendships. Needless to say, it’s affected things on Quixol before, sometimes without me even realizing it.

My influence over the community also means if anybody’s relations with me in particular ever become marred, it must inevitably result in them leaving the community because there’s simply no escaping me. There’s not really anything I can do about this, though, aside from doing whatever I can to become a kinder, more

I’m far from a perfect person, and my imperfections seeped into so much of what made Quixol what it is. However, it’d be silly to suggest that I’m the singular reason that Quixol is flawed, if anything, that would be another form of arrogance- assuming that I singlehandedly shaped the way Quixol took form. No, it was always a team effort, and every single staff and community member held great influence of their own.

The Future

This part is probably why many of you clicked on this post... You want to know what’s going to happen to Quixol. You likely noticed I’ve been referring to Quixol in the past tense a lot in this post. Honestly, I’m not sure why I did that, it just felt the most natural to type it that way. But, I will be honest- the future of Quixol right now isn’t looking very bright.

This is a personal post, so I don’t want to deliver any sort of formal announcement about plans for Quixol here, especially since I haven’t run this post by the other staff before posting it.

For the past 2 and a half months, I’ve been taking a very long break from Quixol. Much greater than any previous break of mine... I’ve neglected to even log in for weeks at a time. I still keep an eye on the discord server, and check the mc <-> discord bridge channel to see which players have been logging in. But I have little to no motivation to play, even just casually.

While I’d love to give you some fun cool news about how this hiatus is ending soon and I have a million and one projects planned, that simply isn’t the case. I’ve gotten to this point where I’m rethinking everything about myself, who I am, and what I’m doing with my life. Surely, I can’t dedicate all my time and energy to running a minecraft server for the rest of my life, even though I do care deeply about this community. But at the same time, it’s not really my call to shut down Quixol, and I’d hate to pull the plug just because of my own lack of motivation.

So, for the time being at least, you can probably consider Quixol to be on a sort of “indefinite hiatus”. I am generally the one to update plugins, do major server updates, etc., and I likely won’t be doing any of that any time soon. I fully entrust the other staff to handle that stuff if they really want to, and I’ve expressed that to them already. But as things stand, nobody else seems to want to pick up the torch right now. Shit is rough for pretty much everyone, and we’re all equally burnt out. We’ve all grown up quite a lot since Quixol began, too. So... Don’t expect anything anytime soon.

If there are any updates, they’ll come in our Discord server first.

As for me, personally... I just need time away from all of this. It’s clearer than ever to me that I have a lot of personal problems I need to work on, and I think that the cozy safe environment provided by Quixol didn’t challenge me enough to really address those issues. I need time to focus on myself & my own growth. At the same time, I also feel like I need more experience being a part of a team, instead of just running the show. I’m not getting the kind of enrichment I need from running Quixol, so I’m trying to turn my attention elsewhere.

I’m doing this not because I want to abandon you guys, or because I feel like I want/need to move on from this community. It’s just... Something I need to do, for myself. And I’ll still be around, I’m still gonna be posting to my tumblr & twitter and stuff, and you can still reach me on discord. I’m just focusing my time elsewhere for once.

What does that mean for the future of Quixol? I don’t really know yet. But, for now, it’s not going anywhere. It’s just... also not changing anytime soon. Not even a little bit. I’m sorry to give you this disappointing news, but I hope you all understand.

I miss the good times on Quixol, too. I really do. Maybe we can share them again sometime? Who knows...

For now, that’s all.

It breaks my heart that we don’t have anything glitzy and glamorous to do to celebrate Quixol’s 5th anniversary... But it would be asking far too much of the staff to set anything like that up right now. Maybe we can have some sort of celebration later...? I dunno.

I hope you’re all staying safe & healthy out there. Thank you so much for reading this. I love all of you.

Happy birthday, Quixol.

[jikookuntold]

Did Jikook have a fight? Part 1 of 3

Disclaimer

In this post I'm going to talk about the possibility of a romantic relationship between JM and JK. If you do not support them romantically or you are not comfortable with shipping real people, then this is not for you.

***The embedded codes I used for videos don’t work in tumbler app. If you want to watch all the 15 videos I added to these 3 post please open the links in browsers using these links: part1   part2   part3  ***

I'm not trying to shade any member, devaluate any ship or degrade the bonds between members. I love all the ships in BTS and it's not hard to see how deeply they love each other and how their friendships are strong and beautiful.

But when it comes to Jikook, things are a little bit different…

I used watch analysis videos for a long time and I have watched and read analysis almost for every ship and I know how this kind of analysis can go wrong.

But not every analyse is bad or wrong. When you analyse everything based on an assumption like “A/B ship is real and B/C ship is not real” you will go wrong for sure but if you do an unbiased analyse to see what’s going on in a situation regardless of any hypothesis and assumption, you can have a good and beneficial results.

I need to quote this from somewhere to show my point in a better way: 

“When people who analyse data are biased, this means they want the outcome of their analyse to go in a certain direction in advance. Occurs when the person performing the data analysis wants to prove a predetermined  assumption. They then keep looking in the data until this assumption can be proven.”

Anyways, there is always an amount of delusion in every analyse related to ships because we can see only a little part of idols' life and we are not allowed to judge them only based on the parts they show us. So we always have to consider that most of these observations and analysis can be invalid and the conclusions based on them can be completely wrong

And this analysis here is not an exception

This is the first analyse I’m doing and I'm not trying to prove anything, these are just my opinions and you are free to accept or ignore them.

But what made me do this analysis?

As a die-hard ARMY and a Jikooker who is following every BTS content for 2 years, I’m very familiar with Jikook’s dynamics and I know they always had ups and downs which is pretty normal and natural.

FYI I’m a grown woman and not that kind of fan who start to say “Oh they broke up! They fought bluh bluh” as soon as the act distant or interact with other members. I believe the way they act in public is affected by many factors and we don’t know all of those factors. 

But in the first days of July 2019, I felt some kind of change in their interactions and I started to believe something has happened between them. I had this thought in my mind those days but I didn’t dare to share them with anyone because it was a personal feeling and hard to explain. Yet I discussed with some of my close friends in GCs and a friend who were in all four concerts of Japan tour and they did agree with me but I didn’t have enough evidences to prove my point and you can’t jump into the conclusion based on a few little unusual incidents.

So I shelved my theories and forgot about them for a long time. But recently, after release of DVD’s of 5th Muster and Japan SYS tour along with some RUN BTS episodes and other contents, I thought maybe I wasn’t totally wrong and there was something going on between Jikook those days.

But what was it and how did that happen?

For start, we have to go back to May, the time when their SYS world tour started.

Jikook were super loud in America. No one can forget the Rosebowl concerts and the famous ear sucking moment. Jikook went to a movie together at L.A and their V Live at New Jersey was a blessing for Jikookers. Also RUN BTS episode 89, 90 and 91 were recorded in New York and one of the best Jikook moments happened there.

In Brazil Jimin got sick and Jikook were kinda quiet for a while. In London they were seen together touring the city while Jimin was with his friends and it wasn’t necessary for JK to be with them but he was. Run BTS episode 91 to 94 were recorded at London and they were literally glued to each other during those episodes. 

Paris concerts was a Jikook feast and when they were in city of love, they went on shopping together and when they were back to Korea, they were looking so close and couply. Maybe the most memorable thing that happened in Paris, was Taehyung’s V Live where he literally exposed Jikook with his words and face expression.

At this point Jikookers had no doubt about them and we were waiting for more and bigger moments which did happen not long after. If you have followed Musters of Seoul and Busan and did watch the DVDs, you already know that Jikook were literally inseparable through Musters and gave us lots of moments, on stage and off stage.

After Musters, BTS stayed in Korea for couple of days and they did plenty of shootings and recordings like Army Zip, RUN BTS episode 95, 96, 97 and 98.

If you watch the content made at this era you can see Jikook were super flirty and can never seen separated. They were always together finding a way to touch each other and that's why we got lots of cute moments from these contents.

But in July 4th, the day when they were heading to Osaka for Japan SYS tour and their Airport photos and videos came out, I noticed a very different vibe in Jikook interaction (if there was any interaction) That was the day when JK started wearing modern hanbuk for the first time and Jimin’s hair was very short.

Anyways, Jimin and Taehyung were the last members arriving at the airport and despite the whole lovely vibe they had in June, he and JK were looking very much distant.

Not to be that person but Jimin’s face was looking different, eyelids puffed without any signs of happiness. Anyways, don’t forget that he had neck and back pain those days and the reason for his uneasy expression could be just the pain.

Everyone was surprised by JK’s new style and he was smiling and looking happy reacting to them but when I saw J-hope caressing his hair for no reason, I felt a different atmosphere and started to think that something is not right.

Part2

Part3