#i kinda regret drawing so many bikes

[jaybirdhitman]

So a couple of us on the server came up with a Racer AU and it's been plaguing my mind since. Here's the First set, 5 bikers; Sunflower, Nova, Sunspot, Sombra and Sandman.

AU is based on the lovely fic Ghost in the Machine by @venomous-qwille who was gracious enough to let us play in the little sandbox in the corner of their world.

Bonus Sanii Akira Slide and Flag guy Harvest doodles under the cut. Just some Sillies

[shawtyblackwell]

los monkees notesssss just so there’s some kinda context if i keep drawing them

ok so if the monkees had 1 more season that’s the vibe of this

they will promise you that they’re actually a band, but life gets in the way

modern day maybe even near future but probably not ours, same mishmash of past aesthetics being shilled to them in their world too

age range 23-29(?)

mike

miguel “mike”, miki used to call him “blanco” before they were friends for sure

went to high school w/ miki, bouncing back n forth from texas and cali... they know almost too much abt each other, daria n jane type beat but like if u actually watched the series all the way thru, they speak to each other in inside jokes. there’s an album of polaroids of them somewhere for sure. ppl who even noticed they were there called them “emo cheech n chong”. too many assume they’re a couple.

sleepwalks, isn’t (currently) a danger to himself but his actions raise questions

possibly has a weekend child “chrissy”, babymama passed away. takes babes everywhere with him when it’s his turn, apple of his eye. looks at chrissy sleeping and tears up type shit.

missing his right ring finger

the one with a car : rollin up in his jeep grand cherokee 2002. never takes the car seat out. chrissy and davy share it.

secretly relieved when babymama passed, he’s gay and everything went too fast. guilty as hell - not over the gay thing but she was one of his best friends and they probably should’ve stayed that.

wants to write. envies peter “just doing shit” so easily, how davy can pick up things so naturally, and how colorful miki’s attempts are (even tho He inspired Her awh)

peter

“shotgun”/“toe-head” (towhead)

studying art therapy, just starting practice

touchyyyyyyyy, loves touch

hair goes down to his ass, plaything of everyone

from a very hands-off family, from the opposite coast, born in germany. had reverse culture shock when he went west, everyone found him odd but he loves where he is now. he was told back east that he would “fit better” out west.

can drive but doesnt, bikes everywhere, you’ll see him hauling ass like anywhere

crushes on each of his roommates in a cycle, they don’t usually last long, something they do will snap him back to reality

more of a hippie (but knows better) than a freak, him n miki are fascinated with each other. will hook up from time to time.

has street medic training but literally only brings it up when it’s relevant thank god

micky

“miki”. might be short for “monica” but it’s anyone’s guess including hers. her grandmother started calling her miki bc she refused to call her “junior” and it stuck.

“gangbanged” w her cousin for like, 2 minutes, got a reputation somehow .. wasn’t Bad just kinda weird and stories got out of hand.. ‘stabbed’ a classmate with an ice cream for calling her a ‘half-breed”. couch hopped for another 2 minutes. this was in high school.

more of a freak (also knows better) than a hippie

VOCAL FRY.

“beauty mark” is a tattoo, she doesn’t regret it but wouldn’t do it now

first born daughter syndrome, probably has panic disorder

stuffed animals, no one knows why this surprised them

currently working a “vintage” whatever that means anymore style restaurant as a waitress, only there for the uniform

has a “bad leg”, wears a brace

likes to chill at her dad’s grave, has fallen asleep there

has been in the area the longest and never met a stranger so sometimes “knows a guy” or someone will know her. “ALWAYS GETTIN CAUGHT W THAT MEDICINAL… MILKIN SITUATIONS I GOT CEREAL.”

annoyed at “califórnia fever” Still being a thing but makes exceptions for her roomies ofc

outside of friends/family, she’s very quiet with rbf, she only goes crackhead mode around mike n her sisters or when she’s acting (and she usually has to be high). when she’s On like it’s normal around davy n peter, theyre honored but can’t figure out why

david

“davy (baby)” / “big stuff”

is taking to them much better than he thought

adopted, he’s tryna put things together.

still very theatrical like in og series, surprisingly not obnoxious abt it bc there’s a charm there or smth and he knows to turn it off.

works at horse rescue. works part-time assistant dance instructor on occasion. both jobs are too perfect for him and everyone is aware of that

allergic to celery, thinks this is common in the US as well.

KNOWS he’s cute

feels like he tags along, bonds with miki over the feeling and having a temper. he watching the decades channel with her when they can pick it up.

him when he learns miki knows how to fight/likes to dance: “😯……….😃”

looks up to his friends a lot honestly. he’s their baby and is happy just to at least group of weirdos who actually care abt him. supportive of their endeavors and tastes, especially bc he’s still figuring himself out. first one to text them “new [artist u like]!!!!!!!!!!”

[thou-crusty-batch-of-nature]

Say you won’t let go

pairing: sirius x reader

request: hey sweetie! congrats on 100, you deserve them all and more 💞 Can i request a sirius x reader with prompts 4&5 from the “goofy” list? thank you

requested by @angelinathebook

4. "I drank far too little alcohol too listen to this."

5. "I hope you know that my name isn't actually darling."

A/N: I LOVED WRITING THIS SO MUCH!! thank you for requesting! I also kinda fell in love with Sirius… oopsie! let me know what you think

thank you my dear friend @slytherinquill for helping me out❤️❤️

party | prompt list

"No Lily, you don't understand! He is a bloody git!" you tried to explain to your best friend, who wasn't convinced at all. "How dare he think he is entitled to have any girl he wants?" 

"Well, he is quite charming!" Lily cut in. 

"Oh shut up - you have James! Besides, he is highly overrated!" you started. "Good thing girls can't leave reviews on boys, otherwise all of his would sound like '⅕ Would not recommend. Experienced severe heart aches.'" 

"Here we go…" Lily sighed. 

"He is a womaniser, Lily! I thought you were a feminist, where is your spirit? Those poor girls, getting their hearts crushed one by one..." you went on as you sat down with your friend at the enormous tables from the Great Hall. 

Thing was, you knew better than anyone else how that type of heartbreak felt like, after all, you were one of those girls. You have been irremediably in love with him since you can remember, however, you've always been too shy to admit it. When girls started taking an interest in him in fourth year, your friendship slowly drifted apart. And that broke your heart more than you could imagine. 

It did hurt at first. You felt that sudden drop of your stomach, the kind of panic you face when you know something bad is going to happen. You know, when you're riding a bike and it wobbles? When you think you'll fall - that's the feeling. 

Then it was the pain; that searing, excruciating pain that travelled through your whole body. That stayed longer than you expected. Now, in your seventh year, you felt ready to move on; you had to. Still, your breath hitched every time you saw a new girl standing next to him - it was the constant reminder that you were never going to be good enough. 

So you turned the page. The heartbreak became hatred - well, as much hatred as possible, for you still had a soft spot for a certain marauder. But of course, no one knew that. 

"Good day to thou, fair damsels! Lily, thou dost takest my breath away! Y/N, how met!" shouted James, who was entering the hall. He kissed Lily's hand then sat down opposite us. "How do you feel about a small gathering tonight in the common room?" he asked nonchalantly. 

"Are you serio-kidding me James? A party?" asked Lily. "The NEWTS are next week, why not just wait a bit?" 

"Lily's right, I'm really behind with my studies. Think I'll pass this one." 

"Now, now, darling, you wouldn't want to be the party pooper! Live a little!" Sirius joined, taking the seat next to you. 

"I 'live' every week! Also, I hope you know that my name isn't actually 'Darling'." you retorted. 

"Of course I know that, darling! It's just that you are as much of a darling as I am Sirius!" You sent a death glare to Lily who was snickering, unfazed by the situation. 

"I'll see if I can make it." you said instead of a goodbye, then left. You could swear you saw Sirius' face fall.

xxx

"Are you sure you want to study all night?" Marlene yelled from the bathroom.

"Yeeeees. It's the second time you ask me in 10 minutes! I'm not going to change my mind!"

"And are you sure you don't want any of us to stay with you?" asked Lily while touching up her make-up. She looked stunning in a short emerald silk dress which brought out her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm certain. Now you girls go make some girlfriends jealous!" you joked. "You look fabulous!"

Two hours later you finally gave up. You couldn't possibly study for two reasons: one, the music was blasting way too loudly and two: your mind kept wandering to other places - for example, what your friends were doing. Or should you say whom?

You decided to head for a quiet place to revise your last chapters for Transfiguration. You slipped out of the common room without anyone noticing, and soon found yourself in one of your favourite places, the quad. You didn't even have the time to make yourself comfortable, when you heard a voice. 

"What are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same question." you retorted. 

"Why weren't you at the party?" 

"Why do you care? Did you get bored of the flirting and decided to try your luck on me? Or did you just remember that I exist?" 

"I drank far too little alcohol to listen to this."  Sirius smiled grimly, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Why do you hate me so much? We used to be friends. What happened to us?"

"Well, for starters, you put your precious bimbos above our friendship. And you started breaking every one's heart, including-" you took a sharp breath. That was close. 

"Including what? Tell me!" he whispered softly, stepping closer. 

"Including mine." You grabbed your things and left. You hadn't realised you were crying. 

xxx

Two weeks passed as a breeze, along with your only distraction: the NEWTS. You used to study with Lily, James and Remus every night in the library, and it was the only thing that kept your mind from wandering to that particular night. 

He tried to talk to you, but you shrugged him off every time. You knew you'd cave in if you let him speak. You knew that since that night, the spark you thought was extinguished has been threatening to become a fire. 

You were a liar. And you kept lying to yourself, until all those feelings came tumbling down even stronger than before. Still, your mind tried to reason with your soul. If only you could stop your heart from beating faster every time you saw him! 

"So, are you guys coming to the party tonight?" you heard Remus ask. You had no idea how the house elves managed to prepare such a delicious pumpkin pie! You also didn't know the question was intended for you until you lifted your gaze and saw everyone staring at you. 

"I guess, yes. Why not?" you quickly answered. 

xxx

You were starting to regret your decision. You were sitting on a couch between two couples who were sucking their faces, holding a far too diluted drink in your hand, watching how everyone but you was having fun. Lily was off with James in a broom closet somewhere, Remus was talking to a Slytherin he was paired with in Potions and Peter was dancing his worries away on the dancefloor. You had to give him props, Peter was the best dancer you've ever met. 

You did your best to ignore the burning stare you felt at the back of your head. You knew who it was, how could you not? Those piercing gray eyes have haunted your dreams, you've tried countless times to forget them. You wondered why he wasn't with a girl: by that time, he would have already been in his dorm, doing gods know what. If you were to think about it, quite some time passed since you last saw him with one. 

He stepped in front of you. "Y/N, can we talk?" he asked. "In private?" 

"Yeah, alright," You didn't know if that was the alcohol speaking or you were just too tired of beating around the bush. You stood up, sensing the wariness in his voice. "Are you alright?" He looked lost and… shy? Sirius Black was shy? 

"Yes, yes-I will be." You walked in silence to the Astronomy Tower.

"Y/N - I - I will get straight to the point. I have never in my life met anyone like you. I like you - screw that - I love you. So there’s that. I think I'd miss you even if we'd never met. I love you without knowing how, why, or even from where." he jabbered, nervously running his hands through his hair."And I know you may hate me, but I just wanted you to know that while I still have the courage to tell you."

 "Sirius - I don't know what to say." You stopped for a few moments, trying to find the best response. "We only ruin ourselves and love the wrong people. You broke my heart so many times." A tear slid down your cheek, and you pushed away Sirius' hand as he tried to wipe it. "The more girls I've seen you with, the more it hurt me. And I tried to deny my feelings, to hide them." You slowly raised your voice "How can I know that I'm not one of them? That I won't get my heart broken after two days?"

"Let me tell you something. This, right now, at this moment, is all that matters to me. I love you. And I have loved you for a while" he cupped your cheeks in his hands, and this time you let him. "I know I was a fool, and I fucked up. But I've never been more sure of anything in my life: I love you."

You took a big breath, trying to calm yourself. "I love you too. Truth is, I've never felt like this before." you revealed. "But love doesn't make things nice, it ruins everything. In the end, it will always break our hearts."

"We aren't here to make things perfect. We are not numbers. And we will never have what James and Lily have! It's just not us!" Sirius admitted."But I would do anything for you, Y/N. And I hate myself for ever hurting you more than you can imagine." 

You hugged him and you felt his arms draw patterns on the small of your back. All you wanted to do was to live in that moment forever. 

"Can I kiss you now?" 

You smiled through your tears. "You are such a dork!" 

You melted in a kiss more wonderful than the sun that began to rise. 

Taglist: @futurewriter2000​ @puppycat714​ @booksbeforebois​

[slowly-writing]

Part of the Family: Part 8

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Part 1  Part 9

Word Count: 2635

You’re still feeling antsy later that night and you can’t fall asleep. You had texted MJ for a while, but it was late and you didn’t want to keep her up all night. You decided to grab a snack around 1am and saw the TV in the common room was still on. You walk in to turn it off only to see your mom sitting on the couch. She’s staring off in a daze, obviously not watching the movie that’s playing in front of her.

“Hey mom?” You call softly, drawing her attention. “Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, everything’s fine sweetheart,” she smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I can tell something’s wrong, you don’t have to tell me what it is but I can sit with you, if that’s alright?” She smiles, a bit more genuinely this time, and pats the spot next to her.

“I’ll always say yes to time with my favorite teenager,” she says and you chuckle softly. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and you sit in silence for a while. You’re half paying attention to the weird action movie when her voice draws your attention. “We had a really hard time on that mission.”

“In Sokovia? What happened?” You ask and you feel her arms tighten around you.

“A lot. It got really bad. I didn’t think we were gonna make it out.” You stiffen slightly and look up at her to see her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I thought it was over, and all I could think about was that I was leaving you alone again. Wanda, she has these powers. She made us see things, our greatest fear I guess. She didn’t know what she was doing, she thought she was on the right side. But I saw you. You were all alone again and scared and then it almost happened. One mission and you almost lost your whole family in one fell swoop.”

“I wouldn’t have made it,” you say softly as her tears start to fall.

“I like to think you would. But these missions…they’re not a joke, y/n. Things get dangerous really fast. All you want to do is help, use the gifts you have for good, and I love you for it. Seeing your face when you came back from that first mission, I think that was the proudest moment of my life. Knowing that my daughter was so happy to be able to help people, I like to think I did something right to help you become that way. In that moment, all I wanted to do was send you on every mission that I could, see that joy in your eyes and see the good you could do in this world,” she smiles at you as she wipes the tears.

“So many of our missions are running in and out of bases with barely anybody there. We knock a few people out, grab what we need, and leave with barely a scratch. I forget how dangerous this job is but then I go on missions like this and I remember what we’re really up against. I remember it’s not always Hydra agents who think they’re saving the world or stupid kids who think on the right side of the fight they know nothing about. It’s people who are truly evil, people who want to destroy this world and will go right through us to do it. I remember why I didn’t want you to go on missions in the first place.” Her voice cracks and you take her hand.

“When we decided to go down with the ship… I hated myself for leaving you alone, but it was okay. Because at least you weren’t there. None of us were coming home, but you weren’t part of that. You’d make it out. That’s why I don’t want you out there. I need you to be okay.” She finishes and you sit in silence for a few moments before you respond.

“I know you want me to stay safe, mom. And I get it, but that isn’t a choice I can really make anymore. I was talking to dad earlier, about what these…powers I guess, have taken from me, and it’s a lot. I can’t be normal anymore and that sucks. If I could flip a switch and get rid of them, sometimes I think I would. But I can’t, so here we are.” You say softly.

“By any semblance of logic I shouldn’t be here. Some scientists in a lab decided to play God and I’m the product of it. That shouldn’t have happened, but it did. I somehow got here and got in a position where I can do a lot of good. And that’s a really scary spot to be in. I think all of us can agree on that. No matter what the moment was, we all had a moment where we questioned if we were right for this job. If we were good enough to be what people think we are,” you say, trying to put into words the thoughts that have been swirling around your head since Fury showed up all those years ago.

“None of us know when our time is going to come. I could walk outside tomorrow and get hit by a car, and that could be it. Well… I don’t think a car could do it, a train maybe,” you joke and you hear your mom laugh lightly. “My point is, we don’t know what’s waiting for us, but we do know we can do a lot of good before it comes. I didn’t ask for these powers, but I got them, and when you can do the things that we can do and you don’t, and then bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

“When did you get to be so smart?” Your mom teases and you smile, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I had the smartest Avenger as a mother, a little was bound to rub off on me.” She smiles and kisses the top of your head.

“You going out there still really scares me,” she says softly and you smile.

“It scares me too. Anytime any of us put on our suits and walk out the door I’m afraid of what’s waiting. But if we let that fear stop us, then those guys win. We can’t stop everyone, and one day one of us is bound to go down. It’s just statistics. We can only cheat death so many times before it catches up. But if they don’t go through us, they’re going to go through a lot of innocent people who can’t do anything to stop it. I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t live with myself if I let that happen.”

“I get it, I’ll let you go on the next mission,” your mom says and you laugh. “I love how much you care. Never let go of that, love.”

“I’ll do my best.”

xxxxx

“Hey Wanda, so as you saw I kinda don’t have my bike anymore and therefore I can’t drive us to school today,” you say sheepishly at breakfast the next morning. “It’s like 5 miles, we can jog there if we leave soon, get some extra conditioning in? I don’t really know if your powers work that way but-”

“That sounds good to me,” she cuts you off with a smile and you nod, calming yourself down a bit. Maybe it’s the leftover emotions from the day before, a lot happened, but you’re still really antsy.

“Hey mom? Can you pick us up after school? I don’t wanna make MJ walk that far,” you ask her and she pauses.

“How long have you been driving her around on that bike without a helmet?��� she asks and you wince.

“Since...uh, since you started letting me drive it to school,” you say softly and she rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, y/n? And you never got pulled over?” she asks in disbelief.

“Well…I may have gotten pulled over once but when the cop saw the last name on my license he apologized and let me go?” you say and Tony immediately starts laughing.

“He apologized?” he asks through his laughter and you nod.

“Perks of the entire NYPD respecting the hell out of your parents and also being simultaneously terrified of both of them.”

“So, really this is your fault,” Tony says to your parents who both glare.

“How is that our fault, Stark?” Steve asks.

“Well, you’re the ones who adopted the kid and made her famous,” Tony says and Natasha rolls her eyes.

“Not like we had much of a choice. We avoided it for as long as we could,” she says and you furrow your brow.

“I’m going to choose to ignore how much that makes it sound like you regret adopting me,” you say softly and your mom immediately jumps up and walks over to you.

“No, y/n. That is not at all what I meant. I was talking about everybody knowing who you are. I have never for a second regretted adopting you, okay? I love you so much.” You nod at her.

“I guess you couldn’t have dad carry me away from movie theaters forever. Anyways, about that ride?” you ask, wanting to change the subject and she smiles apologetically.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I leave for a mission in a few hours,” she says and you nod looking at Clint.

“I’m going with her,” he says and you sigh.

“Dad? Can you pick us up?” you ask.

“Sorry, doll. I have a meeting with Fury this afternoon.”

“Tony?” he shakes his head.

“Bruce?” He makes a similar gesture and you groan.

“There’s 800 people living in this tower and not one of them can pick me up from school?” you hear Wanda laughing and you glare before she covers it with a fake cough.

“You run a 2 minute mile and bench press 600 pounds. Pick her up and run here, lazy,” Clint says and you roll your eyes.

“I may just do that,” you say getting up to leave.

xxxxx

“Hey, how are you doing today?” MJ asks as you jog up to school and you smile and pull her into your arms.

“Is it too cheesy if I say better now that you’re here?” you ask and she rolls her eyes.

“Yes. It is much too cheesy, so don’t say it,” she says, but you can see how she’s smiling slightly.

“Got it,” you say softly before heading inside. When you walk through the doors you see Flash standing in front of Peter and you immediately glare. You’re getting really sick of his games. You see Flash push him and Peter stumbles into a row of lockers, trying not to give away his powers. In reality it probably had very little effect on him, but that’s not the point. You storm over and grab the straps of Flash’s backpack, slamming him against the lockers he just pushed Peter into. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t beat the shit out of you right now, Thompson,” you growl and his eyes go wide. “Please, you always have something to say so why don’t you tell me why you deserve to walk free after how you’ve been treating Peter? That kid has been nothing but kind to everybody here, so tell me, why should you get away with how you treat him?”

“Y/n it’s okay,” you hear Peter saying next to you but you don’t back off.

“You see that? Even after the way you treat him he still comes to your defense,” you say, your voice dangerously quiet as you push him harder into the lockers. He’s too afraid to even speak.

“Y/n, calm down,” you feel MJ put a hand on your shoulder and you exhale slowly.

“If I EVER catch you messing with him again, you and I are gonna be right back here. And you won’t be walking away next time. Do I make myself clear?” you say and he nods, “I said do I make myself clear!”

“Yeah-yes. I’ll leave him alone,” he says and you hold him for a second, trying to convince yourself to let him go.

“Good. Now stay the hell away from my family,” you say, dropping him after a few seconds and he immediately runs away. You turn around and see everyone in the hallway staring at you and your breathing starts to pick up again. Your eyes flit around until you find the familiar brown ones that never fail to calm you down.

“What do you need?” MJ asks quietly as your eyes meet.

“I need to get out of here. Now.” She nods her head and grabs your hand, leading you towards the bathroom and closing the door behind you. You immediately sink down against the wall, pulling your knees up to your chest and holding your head in your hands, trying to control your breathing.

“Hey, look at me,” your eyes shoot up to where MJ is crouched in front of you. “Just take deep breaths with me, slow deep breaths. There you go, you’re okay y/n. Everything’s okay,” you let her voice calm you down as you catch your breath.

“Okay, I’m okay,” you say, moving to get up but she takes your hand.

“Just take a minute, there’s no rush. Just give yourself a minute to calm down,” you nod your head and she sits with you until you’re ready to go to class.

xxxxx

“You’re kidding me, right?” MJ asks and you raise an eyebrow at her.

“You wanna walk 5 miles?” she shakes her head, “Didn’t think so, hop on.”

“This is ridiculous,” MJ says as you crouch to give her a piggyback ride. You had put your homework in Wanda’s bag and stashed yours in your locker so it didn’t get in the way.

“Well it’s our only option until I get my bike back, speaking of there’s a motorcycle shop on the way home, can we stop and buy a new helmet?” you ask and they both agree.

Twenty minutes later you’re slowing to a stop in front of the tower, “see it wasn’t that bad!”

“Everyone was staring!” MJ argues and you roll your eyes.

“I’m Black Widow and Captain America’s kid. People stare at us no matter what we’re doing.”

“Whatever,” MJ says taking the black helmet out of your hands, “I’ll give this back to you next week, okay?”

“Uh, sure. Why?” you ask a little confused.

“You’ll see,” she says with a smirk and you just shrug before unlocking the door.

xxxxx

“I finally got the bike back,” you say, spinning the keys around your finger, “you don’t have to be embarrassed anymore.”

“About damn time,” MJ teases pushing off your locker, the new helmet in hand. “I brought your helmet back.

“Oh no, you can have the new one, I’ll take the old one,” you offer and she rolls her eyes.

“Stop being chivalrous for five seconds and look at it, Romanoff-Rogers,” she says shoving it towards you. You turn it over in your hands and see your shield on the back.

“You painted this?” you ask and she nods with a grin. You smile at her briefly before pulling her by the waist and crashing your lips into hers. She freezes for a second before placing her hand on your neck and kissing you back.

“Finally!” Peter yells and you pull away.

“You have really shit timing Parker,” you groan before looking down at MJ.

“I guess that means you like it?” she says with a smile and you grin.

“I love it,” you say before pulling her in again.

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @freerebel @prizmix-and-friends

series tag list: @hannahsairwave @niquey-salvatore @ibe-anne

[quickspinner]

April Kisses - Day 20

More April Kisses

29. Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force.

It was strange, patrolling with someone other than Chat, but Chat was out of town and Luka had the most freedom in his schedule, so tonight Viperion ran beside Ladybug. He kept up surprisingly well, all things considered, and they ended up at the Eiffel Tower, looking out at the lights of the city from the shadows between the girders. 

It felt quiet, without Chat’s usual teasing. He’d mellowed some over the years but he still had a tendency to chatter. Viperion was humming very quietly, but that was it. Ladybug leaned forward a little to look at him. 

“What are you thinking about so hard?” she asked him teasingly. 

“Nothing,” Viperion smiled, turning his head to look at her, the distant expression melting away as he focused on her. “Just thinking about a girl. Lame, right?” 

“Not lame,” Ladybug said, smiling at him. She came up beside him and leaned on his shoulder. “Is this a friend girl, or a more than friends girl?” 

“Mm, an out of my league kinda girl,” he replied, still smiling.

“That can’t be true,” Ladybug protested. “Viperion, you’re a great guy! It’s part of why I chose you.”

Viperion didn’t bother to argue. “She’s not the type of girl who’s swayed by greatness. Not this kind, anyway,” he gestured to himself. “The famous kind, I mean. Can’t exactly ask her what she thinks about the whole superhero thing.” He winked at her, and Ladybug giggled. “But, ah, she’s so sweet and so kind. She’s always going out of her way to help others even though she’s incredibly busy.” He sighed, staring dreamily at the lights once more. Viperion slipped his lyre from his back, drawing his fingers idly across the strings. “She’s so smart,” he said, his fingers moved automatically to a melody that sounded vaguely familiar, though the sound of the lyre was still foreign to her compared to Luka’s familiar guitar. “She doesn’t always have a lot of confidence but there’s no one I’d rather have in charge in a crisis. She thinks on her feet. She’s resourceful.” Viperion’s song grew a little more aggressive as he remembered that day at the studio. 

“Is she pretty?” Ladybug asked, folding her arms and shifting her weight to the pillar he was leaning on so that he could move his arm freely. 

“She’s so much more than pretty,” Viperion chuckled. “I mean, yes, I think she’s pretty. She’s got the sweetest smile and her eyes…but she’s also vibrant and alive and...there’s just something in her that—” He paused playing and put his hand over his heart. “I don’t know, it just speaks to me.”

“It sounds like you’re in looove,” Ladybug sing-songed, nudging him. “You should tell her.”

“I...tried, once,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “Years ago, actually, in my usual, complicated way. But,” Viperion sighed, “I mostly did it because I wanted her to know how special she was. She was in love with somebody else, so I had to accept that and we stayed friends.” 

“Oh, Viperion,” Ladybug said sadly, straightening up so she could face him. 

He stowed the lyre and took his weight off the wall, folding his arms. “Yeah. It’s all right. I wanted her to be happy. I couldn’t even hate the guy, he was nice. Maybe not ready to be in a relationship, though. They got together for a while, but it didn’t last, and now...” He shook his head slightly. “Now I don’t know what to think. I’m still as in love with her as I ever was, but…you’d think, if she wanted me, she would have said something by now. She has to know how I feel, so…” 

Ladybug looked away, something sad and regretful in her gaze. “Maybe she thinks it’s too late. I mean, how many guys would wait around that long for a girl? Especially someone like—” she darted a guilty look at him, and he smiled to himself. “S-someone who probably has lots of other options.”  

“Mm, that’s true,” Viperion chuckled, unfolding his arms and leaning back again. “She doesn’t think very highly of herself, I’m afraid. I could be saying all this to her face and she’d still think I meant someone else.” 

Ladybug giggled. “Are you sure that’s a girl you want to be chasing?” 

“Definitely,” he replied without hesitation, his eyes taking on that faraway look again. “She’s brave and selfless and caring, and there’s not a single person like her anywhere in the world.” He smiled at his feet. “Believe me, I looked.”  

Ladybug smiled, caught in the dreamy way he stared at the metal in front of his feet. “I think I like it when you talk about her. You look like she makes you happy and that’s nice to see. What else?”

Viperion tilted his head to look up at her in a way that was very familiar and very Luka. The last time she’d seen that look they’d been barely more than kids, as he sat astride his bike in front of her parents’ bakery with his guitar across his thighs, the strings still vibrating as the last of his song for her faded away. Her heart began to pound. 

“She looks good in red,” he said softly. “Although honestly, I prefer the pink.” 

“Still?” she whispered, more shocked by that than the revelation that he knew who she was. His eyes went to her lips, which were suddenly trembling. “Even after she was so stupid for so long?” 

“She followed her heart,” he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his mouth as he turned towards her, shoulder still leaning on the pillar. “That’s not stupid, it’s admirable. Just because it didn’t turn out doesn’t mean it was foolish. If things not working out with your first love makes someone stupid, then there’s a lot, and I mean a lot, of really dumb people walking around Paris. That’s what second chances are for, isn’t it?” 

“Well I guess...you would know, huh?” she tried to joke, weakly, because he was still staring at her lips and she was suddenly having a very hard time looking away from his. She was startled at how close they were—she wasn’t sure whether she had moved toward him or he had shifted towards her. Maybe both. 

“I’ve had some experience, yeah,” he replied, that smile quirking his mouth a little more. 

“So...you could teach me?” she breathed, inching closer. 

“I think you’ve already learned the important things.” His head dipped towards her and his bangs brushed her forehead. 

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Like, not being afraid to take that second chance?” 

“Are you?” Viperion asked, gaze flickering between her lips and her eyes.

 “Not with you,” she whispered, still focused on his mouth. 

Neither of them could have said who moved first, but it hardly mattered. Once their lips met they melted together it didn’t matter at all who had started it, who had been waiting and who had been unsure, who had traveled the world trying to move on and who had been stuck in Paris wishing he hadn’t. It only mattered that they were in the same place at last, holding the same feelings. All that mattered was their lips moving together, their arms wound around each other, the tiny gasps for air they made as they tried to keep it from ending. When they had to break at last they stayed close, foreheads pressed together, his hands on the small of her back and hers against his chest. 

“You know when I imagined doing that it was always without the mask,” Viperion said, running his thumb along the bottom of Ladybug’s mask. 

“Really?” Ladybug giggled. “When I imagined it there was sometimes the mask.”

“It’s the fangs, isn’t it,” he grinned, winking. “The ladies love the fangs.” 

They both laughed quietly together. Ladybug laid her head against his shoulder as she giggled and Viperion wrapped his arms tighter around her. “Are we done with patrol?” he asked softly. “Because as much as I enjoy seeing the city with you...there’s someone I’d really like to take out tonight.”

“What if she wants to stay in?” Ladybug asked, reaching up to play with a lock of hair at his temple. 

“I’m sure I could be persuaded,” Viperion chuckled. “I was never very good at saying no to her anyway. I was hoping to meet up with her in, say, half an hour?” 

“You’d better get going then,” Ladybug chided him. 

“Right.” He cupped her face in one gloved hand, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “Good night, Ladybug. I’ll see you soon.” 

She smiled, and he let his hand fall and began to turn away. Then he hesitated, pivoted back, and caught her around the waist, leaning in to kiss her one more time. Ladybug rose up on her toes gladly to meet him. 

“Okay,” he breathed as they separated. “Maybe I thought about it once or twice in the mask.”

[likeamattoutofhell-archive]

Money - Alain & Matty

Alain and Matty do some dirty business, the Babineaux dogs are good boys, a certain katana-wielding slayer-killer gets lightly roasted... and sold out, for cash. You know what Pink Floyd had to say about that stuff.

The sun had disappeared west of White Crest, signing the beginning of Alain's extra hours. And yet, he was not on his way to the nearest mausoleum tonight. Alone in his garage, he was taking care of a client's bike as he waited for Dave's contact to appear. Music played on the radio although he was not paying too much attention to it. His thoughts were elsewhere. Asking him to trust a vampire was really asking him a lot, and if he had not known Dave for a long long time, he would have never contacted the damn undead monster which was about to arrive anytime. At least, that was if the damn thing was able to respect a set date for a meeting. 

Tidying up his workspace, the hunter then moved the bike back to the side and threw his glove on the workbench, picked up his phone and headed to his office to reheat his dinner. He replied to Evelyn's texts, took the lasagna out of the microwave oven and headed to his desk. Orion's snout reached for his owner’s hand, but was dismissed to his basket. Alain knew too well that this was only a ploy to get a bite of his food. “You have food in your bowl,” sitting at his desk, he kept the door to his office open to have his eyes on the front door. He could have gone to the vampire’s place, but knowing where he lived was enough information, and he didn’t care much for visiting it, although he was intrigued. Matty, if this was even his real name, did not sound anything like usual vampires : full of pride, arrogant, like the world was owed to them just like the gift of immortality was. Seeing someone approaching from where he stood, the hunter called out “come in,” and pushed away his half empty plate.

Oh, this was a bad idea. Not that said idea was his. Obviously. Matty slunk along through the dark, well past regretting… a lot of things. Not that that mattered much, when you were not just stuck, but entirely fucked, between a rock and a hard place. Or a leech and a slayer, as the case was. But. If this all went how it sensibly ought to, there’d be no going wrong, exactly. Would there? One less scary motherfucker in White Crest. One less scary motherfucker in White Crest who knew way too much about Matty for his personal comfort, seriously. At least he could add… some garage, to what he knew about this guy. Garage Babineaux. A detail to throw that old bastard’s way, when the time came. Remained to be seen if this dude was Babineaux himself, but. Who the fuck else but the owner would be hanging around a place like this, after closing time? 

Someone who had the imagination to look around a garage and see plenty of opportunities to be an intimidating son of a bitch, maybe. Opportunities like monkey wrenches, power-lifts, tire irons, and blowtorches. All solid choices, so far as scare tactics went. 

As were the fuckin’ dogs. Catching the invitation, Matty pushed himself into the glow of the garage, and stiffened. German Shepherds. Two. Oh, no. No, thank you. With a thick, nervous swallow, he dragged his eyes up to the guy sitting between them. “Uh. Hi.” God, he hadn’t been this close to one of those damn dogs since… a long fuckin’ time, but. Still. Matty inched nearer, swayed to a stop. He’d come sober. Not, like, all the way. Obviously. But as much as he could stand. Functionally on edge. “We’ve - we have a mutual friend, right?” Friend, yeah. “Dave? Just… making sure.”

Sitting back in his chair, Alain looked at the vampire, starting by looking at their hands, then their face. Only after this did he take time to take into account the man’s general appearance. Not exactly what one would expect from your stereotypical vampire. Good for him, because he hated those even more. Standing up from his office chair, he left his office to stand in the workshop, a couple meters apart from the vampire. The dogs followed behind, although they were more curious than in the mood for a fight, even if they could not hear a heartbeat coming from the vampire, and had been trained to lunge at such monsters. Alain had trained them for this, and they were ready for his order, although such an order would not come, not tonight. He had no interest in killing Matty, as long as he proved to be useful.  

Shoving his hands in his pockets, the hunter remained silent for a couple more seconds, a frown appearing on his face right as he started talking: We’ve - we have a mutual friend, right? Dave? Just… making sure. The odds of Alain being a different person were low, weren’t they? Instead of replying, he sighed and blinked slowly. Right. “Do you have what I asked ?” Motioning toward a paper bag on the workbench, he then crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

Yeah, that had been… yeah. Stupid question. Seriously off chance this wasn’t the dude he was after. But if he was gonna get punked - and he had been, before - might as well get it over with quick. Not that there was much Matty could hope to do but play through, when these douchebags felt like having a bit of fun. A lifeline was a lifeline, and shit as it was, that’s what the hunters of White Crest amounted to: blood he didn’t have to kill for, hurt for, bite for. Or, well. The means to get it, in theory. Fuck, why couldn’t this asshole have just gone down to the meat counter, or something? Even that was better than having to hit the Night Market himself, knowing how many slayers were watching. And how many things like him were skulking around, down there. 

 Speaking of. He dipped a hand into his back pocket, and waved a bit of paper, folded up. “Mhm. Took some looking, man. Slick son of a bitch, this guy.” Not wrong. Matty had stayed put, as the slayer moved. And the dogs. He hesitated, then took a cautious step towards the bench, his payment. “You mind if I, uh, count that out, before we get down to the details?” 

“Huh uh,” at the vampire’s request to count the money, Alain sighed and blew heavily through his nose. “If I wanted to screw you, you’d be dead already,” he commented, raising his eyebrows as he looked to the ceiling. “But suit yourself,” taking a seat on the workbench, he looked down at his two dogs and smiled at them, tapping his leg to get them to approach him. 

"You know, vampires usually don't sell out their own kind," you could not trust them, but within their species, they usually were knit together and this was what made hunting them so hard sometimes. If newly made vampires were easy to dust, as most of them never had to get in a fight in their whole human life, the same couldn't be said about the older ones and while Alain could enjoy a fight, he'd rather have it happen at the Silver Bullet than in a cemetery.  Killing vampires was not fun, and he treated it as such. Whoever was responsible for killing those slayers would know the same fate as many vampires before him. This much he knew.

Alain glanced over at the vampire and tilted his head. "Do hunters usually pay you in blood?" If so, he really would have to have a word with Dave, although nothing stopped him from dusting dear Matty once he would be done with the other vampire. "So, those pieces of information ?"

You’d be dead already. They always said that kinda thing. As if it was any comfort, at all, come on. As if his new pal, here, wasn’t plenty likely to stake him for the hell of it, when this was done. But. Not a point he was about to make. “Right. Totally.” Matty threw a fragile smile across the garage, and helped himself to the envelope. Counting fast. Because yeah, it fuckin’ suited him. Bad enough this bastard had dicked him around about the price, in the first place - he didn’t want to walk away underpaid, to boot. Blood didn’t come cheap.  

Neither did his extremely dangerous so-called job. A dry, sour sort of laugh shook out of him, there, as Babineaux (presumably, anyway) started to poke. No, vampires didn’t tend to do what he did. They tended to chew open your neck and drink you dead. “Yeah, well. The fuck do I owe those freaks, huh?” The money looked to be all there, but. He’d be damned if he didn’t go all the way through, just to be sure. Tossing a bit of hair out of his face, Matty hazarded a glance at this slayer, and his dogs. “And yeah, they do. That’s kinda the whole idea? The deal. I eat, stay outta trouble, and save you people some legwork. It’s symbiotic, or whatever. Everybody comes out better off.” Like hell he was gonna mention that more than a few of them were happy to short the snacks, and make up the difference with substances. Which worked out, most of the time, but… didn’t seem likely to earn him any points, here. 

He waited on the delivery until he was sure, to the last bill - not taking his time, exactly, but. Not about to miscount. But, there it was. To the dollar. “Alright. So. You’re looking for this.” Matty dipped two fingers into his back pocket, holding up a sharp sketch. That motherfucker’s face, from the alley, as clear as he could remember it. “Don’t have a phone, or whatever, so. Best I could do, media-wise.” He set the drawing down the bench, and took a step back. Liked his distance. “He’s old, like I said. Enough that he can go to mist, real quick. Likes to use that, in a fight. And a - a fuckin’, you know…” what were they called, even? “A samurai sword, or whatever. Put that right through Evgeni Sidorov’s chest, I saw it. If you knew him.” Possible he hadn’t. Hunters were in a niche business, sure, but. White Crest was crawling with these fuckers. Understandably. “Your guy has something he uses to break the bodies down, after he’s done. But, first, he takes their teeth. Yeah.” Matty reached up, pushing his upper lip aside with a thumb, indicating the canines. “Big on souvenirs. Sounds like he’s got a real pile of the things. And he jogs. At Hanging Rock. Around eight, most nights.” Sliding a little further away, Matty watched the shepherds, watched Babineaux. “Definitely this Friday. Heard him talking, at Teeth. Seems like the kinda dude to keep a pretty tight schedule. Places to be, slayers to melt, I guess.” Another slinking step, towards the door. “Speaking, uh, of which, I should… get going. If we’re cool.” As cool as they could possibly be. So. Asphalt in August, in, say. Houston, maybe. 

“Or you could feed on animals like a normal person? Those blood bags should be going to humans who need them. People don’t donate blood to save dead people like yourself,” he looked at Matty, and his nose scrunched up just a little as he kept staring at him. If Alain was more than aware that animal blood was not exactly as suitable as human blood, he did not care much about it. Even if the “feeding on human beings and causing them harm” part was bad enough, it was the fact that they could spread their disease to others that made them such a big problem to him. Moreover, some vampires had their heads so far up their asses that they considered becoming one of them to be a gift, a blessing. 

“You know, some of us don’t have an eternity to spend on Earth,” he commented once Matty was, at last, done counting his payment. Picking up the piece of paper from the bench, he raised an eyebrow. Wow. Even if the drawing was far from a bad one, was this truly the best he could do? Not that it mattered much what the fella looked like. He had never needed photos to know if someone was a vampire or not. And so, he did not comment, and instead listened to what he had to tell. Still, at the mention of samurai swords, he couldn’t hold back a scoff. “It’s called a katana,” he corrected him. This wasn’t the reason why he had laughed. The idea of someone who looked far from Japanese, owning such a sword, sounded extremely tacky to his ears. “How original,” another comment. Still, he had taken note of the mist. This part worried him more than the fact that this vampire seemed to idealize samurais. Evgeni. The name sounded familiar. He had heard it before, right after that hunter disappeared. He never spoke with that guy, but that did not change a thing. Vampires had no business killing slayers, no right to defend themselves. They were abominations, and they had to be destroyed, each and everyone of them. “Souvenirs, huh?” Wouldn’t be the first or the last vampire to feel like they could do whatever they wanted to their victims. “Right.” He rubbed his hands, fingers stretched out. That part about Hanging rock and schedules screamed coup monté but he did not make any comments. He half expected Matty to tell me to show exactly at 3am next. Alone. With no weapons. Surely he would have to be careful, but this would hardly be his first time against an old vampire like that one, and he had a few tricks up his sleeve if things didn't go quite as planned. “Of course. Places to be, people to scare and harm,” he waved in the vampire’s direction idly. “If this goes well, I’ll see you soon. And if this goes wrong, you won’t see me at all.”

God, he could kiss Nic. If he weren’t, you know. A hunter, and generally terrifying. But - at least he didn’t pull this kinda shit. Like Matty didn’t know. Like he didn’t care. His eyes would’ve rolled, if they weren’t too busy keeping a sharp watch on this slayer, over here. “You think they stretch to blood bags? Fuck, man. Comes in a jar, half the time. Outta morgues, or some shit, I don’t know…” The other half, well. Yeah. Blood, for the living. Feeding the dead. The only reason he didn’t crumple more, under the weight of that, was - there just wasn’t much left to wring out of him, at this point. “I take what I get, alright?” Sounded tired, there. Because he was. Didn’t matter that none of it was his fault. Didn’t matter to hunters, at least. 

He shot a look across his counting, still flicking through the envelope. No comment. Yeah, supposed-Babineaux did look like he was getting up there, for a guy in his, you know. Line of work. Which meant he was a special kind of scary. The sort with experience. Matty couldn’t speak to the ravages of time, or whatever; missed those, lucky him. So goddamn lucky, totally. The crack about the katana - apparently - sent a smirk sneaking over his face, a more than half-nervous snicker chasing after it. “Right? Like Blade, or some shit. Couldn’t believe it. Fuckin’ asshole…” No, he didn’t want to think about whatever this maniac went killing with. Didn’t see anything too obvious lying around - besides crowbars, maybe - and it was plain enough that the slayer was sharp as hell. Had to be, to make it to his age, doing what he did. So. Matty wasn’t going to push the intel-gathering. Instead, he nodded, vigorously. Souvenirs. It’d almost seemed like too much to throw in, but. Babineaux had bit enough, at least. Enough to seal the deal, and let him go. 

Not without a parting jab, but. Honestly. He’d heard worse. Thought worse. Appearances, though. These people, in Matty’s experience, they liked to see it hurt. And it still did, so. Wasn’t hard to cringe, believably, on his way out. “Something like that,” he sighed, thinly. Remembering that face, this place, the pant and whine of those shepherds, sprawled around their owner’s feet like… like something out of a painting, old-school hunting dogs, ready to lurch for a fox. Never seemed like a fair fight, but. As if fairness had ever been the point of anything like that. Of anything, period. Whatever this turned into, it wouldn’t be his problem. “Happy hunting, yeah?” Slipping through the door with a creak and a flat, tossed-off wave, Matty took a deep, shaky breath of the dark, and started walking. Fast.

[darlinrogue]

There wasn't any going out to look at the stars. Not when it was raining hard enough to turn the city to a blur. No problem, though. Virote was fine being draped over Adam in bed, wearing a silk slip that barely had a hold on his body. It was a movie night and Chungking Express was one of his favorite films, but he couldn't keep his eyes off Adam. Couldn't keep his arms from around him ❝I like you... So much,❞ he said. ❝I daydream about you. Morningdream about you. Eveningdream about you.❞

Morning Dreams

Vi and Adam 

Too much weight today, Adam decided. Too much weight, too many reps, too long a run. Some combination of all three impounded upon a week of too much. The second work-out in the afternoon with the extra dose of cardio totally blew him out. After a strong shot of whiskey, Adam was physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically, religiously, personally, dead to the world. An ache settled in the base of his shoulders. Spread through his hips and thighs, then bottomed-out in his feet. Even his toes hurt. A hot shower dispersed some of the pain but failed to unravel the knot. Like Adam was a clockwork toy wound-up a little too tight. When he awoke in the morning the worst would come to reckon. Rolling-out of bed, he’d grumble with regret, and yet he still wouldn’t miss a set. Eat chicken for breakfast like he was supposed to and set out for a run. Adam wouldn’t take off the pounds from the bar. He wouldn’t shorten his distance. Couldn’t say why. Adam was training. Couldn’t say for what. Just training, pushing limits, getting faster, getting stronger, getting leaner, and maybe a little meaner. Less body fat, more muscle, and it would all work, for something. 

Something that he was working for.

Because as fast as Adam was now, the champion was faster.  

Adam grunted, a low noise of acknowledgement situated deep in his chest. He shifted and dug his elbows into the mattress. The mountain of pillows piled behind his back and shoulders susurrate as he leveraged himself up. Adam grew-up on old box springs but Vi lived in style and on comfy beds. Which did nothing for motivating Adam. Rain pattered against the roof and streaked the windows. Shadows flickered on the far wall. The movie played on, ignored, on the silver screen. A succession of colors and images, blurred by his heavy eyes. It was the film Vi liked so much--they’d see it again, at some point. Hopefully, Vi didn’t want a plot synopsis later. Adam yawned and he splayed his hand against Vi’s back. Thin arms wrapped around his mid-section with shocking strength. Vice grips of two-fifty pound men were weaker than Vi’s hold. There was no thinking about going anywhere or doing anything. Which was fine, perfectly fine. Even if Adam’s heart ticked with thoughts that were not present in his current exhaustion. He dipped his chin and pressed his nose against Vi’s hair. Smelled shampoo and flowers, something sweet, fruity, tangled with the natural musk of oils, sweat, and people smell. 

“What about night dreams?” He murmured. “Twilight dreams, dawn dreams, Midday Dreams, uh, shit, high noon dreams.” Kinda made him think of like, an old Western stand-off where instead of drawing weapons, the combatants had to imagine up something creative first. Which was an idea so dumb he found it funny. Adam chuckled, “You must have boring dreams if I’m running through ‘em, Vi.”

The other night, Adam had a dream that Ultra Tito got out and he had to spend like three hours looking for his stupid dog. Even put posters up on the telephone poles. Except Adam wasn’t in the plain suburban he called home. Adam was marching through the neighborhood an old friend from grade school lived in. The one where he fell off a bike and skinned his knee to high hell. And also, old Jimmy Valiant was there, providing words of wisdom Adam forgot. Something, something, about taking the recycling out. Shit, he should call Jimmy-- and take the recycling out. Adam was having dreams about the fossil that trained him, recycling, and his dog. Or, maybe it counted that his thoughts were drifting a little too often to movie night with Vi. When he was in the middle of dead lifts and bench presses. Damn inconvenient ‘cause he kept losing count. And he wasn’t fixating on the cinema.  

Adam played his fingers through Vi’s hair. Black locks like silk, iridescent, refracting pink, blue, red, from the TV screen. Vi, warm and draped over his chest. In retrospect, Adam had no clue how he got here. It kinda happened like it was supposed to. Which was crazy because Adam had no clue where he was supposed to be or even doing. Stuck on this Island of his own making, all bridges burnt. Yet, here was Vi, who arrived by some miraculous and confounding design, draped across his chest like he kinda belonged there. Actually, Vi’s chest now, property of Vi. Like, seriously, how the hell did Vi get here? Adam slid back down against the pillows, sore body protesting even the slightest muscle twitch. He used his hands to adjust Vi’s weight so he could breath easier and then closed his eyes. A couple wiggles and Adam was well burrowed in the pillows.  

“We should have... grits, in the morning,” Adam muttered. Not apart of his diet but whatever, cheat day came like once a month and he was feeling homesick.  Make ‘em with milk and salt and black pepper. “With, bacon.”

Adam had the feint hope, as he drifted asleep, that he dreamed of bacon. Or Vi, who was definitely better than bacon.  Not titles he’d never win or oceans to broad to build bridges.  

[nortnaibz]

"Bother My Askbox?" now,, what if I sent you 1-50 🤔 as a treat!! Haha just kidding.. unless. RETALIATION BITCH BOY

JFLKHSAFHDLFJDSKJF that is going to take me a hot minute 2 answer my dear but i will do the ones i haven’t already answered. just for u, gayass.

1. what color are your socks?

don’t have any ^-^ thems my feet

answered 2 <3

3. what is something you regret in the past month?

well there is a lot but not buying halloween candy sooner especially

4. do you believe in love at first sight?

nnnnnnope

5. when was the last time you wrote someone a letter on paper?

i always had to write thank you notes for xmas and birthday gifts as a kid so probably one of those? for an actual written letter it’s been at least a decade

6. how old were you when you first learned how to ride a bike? who taught you?

i......sighs i never learned how to ride a bike bc i went over the handlebars of one when i was like 4 and then never got back on one -_-

7. do you get along with your parents? why or why not?

complicated bc i’m the queer kid next question

8. what’s your favorite season?

fall!!!!!! even though we don’t really have it here

9. do you currently like someone?

well you know the answer to this sir......i’m perhaps a little gay for my girlfriend

10. have you ever used a ouija board?

yes i have on multiple occasions and nothing happened

11. what’s the last song you sang?

prisoner by dance gavin dance listening 2 it on repeat while i rank xd

12. what’s your favorite scent?

rain on pavement!!!!!!!!!!!

13. what’s your favorite urban legend?

uhhhhhhhhh? i don’t think i know any

14. what’s a bad habit you have?

i have many but i’m super clumsy and not very aware of like where i am in relation to other things so i run into shit a lot

15. what’s a strange habit you have?

i wrap my earbud cord around my neck so it isn’t dangling and in my way when i walk places 

16. what’s the first instrument you learned to play?

if you wanna be technical i learned to play flute for a very brief period in 4th grade but i hated it. so guitar!

17. how would you describe your type?

uhhhhhhh good question people who are nice to me <3 and most men

18. would you rather stay in or go out?

for the most part stay in but i usually hit a point after awhile of being home too long where i Need to leave the house lol

19. what was the last thing you said to your mom?

bye after i called her yesterday lol

20. do you want to get married someday?

not traditionally but yes

answered 21 and 22!

23. what’s an embarrassing thing that happened this week?

i had to answer a phone call at work abt the pet section which i know nothing about and the lady was clearly kinda annoyed and when i told her we didn’t sell kennels in the store (and that yes, i had checked) she said thank you and i. didn’t say anything else. i like forgot to speak and she just hung up and i felt so stupid for it ksdfjksdfhjk

24. when was the last time you went sledding?

it’s been at least a decade iirc 

25. have you ever/do you like someone you know you can never be with?

yes........ *picture of norton campbell*

26. do people often mispronounce your name?

nope

27. would you like to live in another country?

absolutely! when this country inevitably falls apart in the wake of the 2020 election i will be contacting my stoner friends in canada and moving up there at my earliest convenience <3

28. do you like to watch ghost hunting shows?

i never have but i would probably find them entertaining

29. who was the last person you said i love you to? 

kei my friend kei my best friend kei <3 before that either my mom or my girlfriend lol

30. what’s something you’d like to be better at?

playing guitar!!!!! i wanna get back into it so bad i just don’t know where my picks are rn

31. have you ever stayed up to talk to someone who was sad? 

oh sure i have it’s been awhile though

32. what was the last thing you cooked?

scrambled eggs the other day ^-^

33. do you think you would make a good parent?

absolutely not and i will never have kids unless i decide to adopt after getting help 4 my issues and assuring that i could actually be responsible for another human life 

34. do you have trouble sleeping at night?

nah i have issues w waking up in the middle of the night sometimes but other than that i’m good

35. where is your best friend right now?

i don’t have one best friend one is at work one is in his home i presume and the other is at college <3

36. how long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

depends but usually like 20 mins? i don’t do makeup or anything so i can be ready in ten if i need to be

37. how late do you usually stay up at night?

until 10 or 11 lately!

38. when was the last time you cried and why?

uh good question i have shit memory but a few days ago over life stress probably lol

39. have you ever won a contest?

yes i won a costume contest in my elementary school when i was v little and i sort of won a contest to get my poetry published in my uh. sophomore year....summer between sophomore and junior year

40. can you draw well?

i can draw. the well is subjective ^_^

41. would you ever date someone you met on tumblr/the internet?

me n my girlfriend are long distance but i did not meet her on tumblr i think if i ever date someone on tumblr you all should require an essay from me on why it is an okay thing to do. i love my mutuals but some of the people on here...well you know

42. what was the last thing you ate?

snickers!

43. do you think you’re/you’d make a good boyfriend/girlfriend?

ehhhhh i mean i’m certainly better than i used to be but tldr no. but i have issues so take that as you will

44. have you ever had a near death experience?

as in i physically came close to death and survived, no. but i was in a car crash a few yrs back that if anything had happened differently it could’ve killed us

45. what do you think people think of you?

idk i have a hard time reading intention and like. opinions of me? i think everyone puts up with my shit and wishes they didn’t have to lol

46. what is your middle name and do you like it?

my middle name is rowan and i love it cause i picked it myself i have no other middle names and i never have <3

47. are you close with either of your parents?

nnnnnnot really!

48. do you like yourself?

well i am the sexiest motherfucker alive but also i hate myself. i’m incredible and deserve better but also am horrible and deserve nothing. i’m the best and the worst at the same time <3

49. state five facts about your appearance

uhhhh my hair’s red, i’m short as fuck, i have blue eyes, i always wear hairties around my wrists, and i uhhhhh like wearing long sleeves. does that count??

50. state 5 facts about your personality

hm well i have no idea who i am as a person but? i’m creative, i like video games, i’m a pessimist, i spend a lot of time thinking/daydreaming, and i’m gay! the end <3 <3 <3

[hag-lad]

Digging Deeper

Thank you to my radiant wonderful friend @alienfuckeronmain for sending me EXACTLY the type of self indulgent wind-down activity I wanted on this otherwise depressing weekend! If anyone else wants to answer FORTY-NINE QUESTIONS about themselves, I’m super nosy and will read it all! @fight-the-seether @ptolemyofchaos @butchwizard @metalbutch @nyndelion @comrade-ziltoid @leatherdear @kristalknobb Enjoy, friends!

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? I prefer black, but I always feel like I write neater in blue??

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? The city, but only if it has breathable air, green infrastructure, and decent public transit. So like... definitely no city in America lmao

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? The ability to quickly become fluent in another language! I’ve been struggling with Spanish for literal YEARS and it’s honestly pathetic. My brain is so stuck on English.

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? Look pal. If I wanna drink sugar, I’m gonna have a soda, not herb water or bean juice.

5. What was your favorite book as a child? I was OBSESSED with The Wish List, by Eoin Colfer (of Artemis Fowl fame). I remember being so fascinated by how dark it was?? It’s an afterlife adventure, where the main character has to escape purgatory by atoning for her crimes of robbery and fraud and whatever. I had a crush on her, so basically this book made me want to pursue a life of crime, even though it explicitly condemns crime and depicts Hell as a very real and horrible place. I was in like fourth grade and was super morbidly curious about Hell and the possibility of going there! Lol

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? Baths... but only when I’m not actually dirty going in. A bath is leisure, not hygiene.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would you be? 100% fae! I would build my dwelling within a sidhe mound, steal shiny things in the middle of the night, make bastardly little contracts for no reason, and cause harmless mayhem and mischief because mortals really are fools (go off, robin goodfellow!) Also I love mushroom circles and dancing in the moonlight.

8. Paper or electronic books? Paper all the way! I read much more content electronically, but it’s usually in the short story or article format. Books are much better in print, I think.

9. What is your favorite item of clothing? Probably my rust-brown overalls.

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I’ve always hated my name but no alternative has ever stuck, unfortunately. My name is Amy, and I don’t think it fits at all. If I knew I’d never have to correct anyone on it, I’d probably just change it to Amelia?

11. Who is a mentor to you? My little brother! He’s this genius musician, and he has taught me so much about song structure, polyrhythms, guitar technique, production tricks, all kinds of trivia that really deepen my appreciation for music and the LABOR that goes into it.

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? No, never, not for anything. I cherish my anonimity so much, I don’t even put searchable tags on this blog cuz I get an adrenaline spike from anxiety if too many people interact with me. I also just think fame is a fucking hideous construct. I don’t think it’s even slightly cool or desirable.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? No, I’m a fucking log. I can easily sleep for 12 hours straight. Thanks, depression!

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? No, actually. I’m very much in love, and it brings me lots of joy to do nice things with and for my partner! But romance feels very difficult for me to connect with. I’m super domestic, like, I love the idea of marriage but not necessarily a wedding, or a moonstruck romance or whatever. Those dramatic gestures feel very awkward for me.

15. Which element best represents you? EARTH. Specifically, like... dirt, or soil.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? I want to be geographically closer to my family. We’re thick as thieves, but we all live like 50 miles apart from each other. I miss my brothers and my parents so much, I feel so incomplete and depressed without them to hang out with, especially since quarantine.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? See above! Lol

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. When my little brother was a baby, he had this grey car seat with a folding mechanism which held his legs in place. It made a very satisfying clicking sound when the mechanism moved, AND when it was fully unfolded, it looked a lot like a Klingon battle cruiser. (Or so my five year old brain thought.) So! My older brother and I would take this seat out of the car CONSTANTLY so that we could unfold it and “sing” the Klingon theme music from Star Trek: The Motion Picture while we scooched our car seat battle cruiser across the living room floor, pretending to shoot phasers into the TV or the dining table or whatever else got in our way.

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? Gifilte fish, maybe?

20. What are you most thankful for? My family, including my wonderful partner and all the cats in our lives!

21. Do you like spicy food? Yes! But my tolerance for extreme spice decreases every year, unfortunately. So I can’t handle as much heat as I used to, but I do enjoy a good kick.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Lmaooo I made the regretful decision to PAY FOR a meet&greet with Fall Out Boy in like 2006, which was so fucking awkward and painful, I vowed to never approach that level of lame again.

23. Do you keep a diary or a journal? TONS! I’m an obsessive record keeper. Some years I journal more than others, and I’ve found that it is super difficult to keep up with it while working full time. But it’s absolutely one of my favorite hobbies.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or pencil? Pen for writing. Pencil for drawing, and math.

25. What is your star sign? Virgo sun, Aquarius moon, Scorpio rising 🙃

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Crunchy! A shallow bath in that milk is key.

27. What would you want your legacy to be? My artwork. I go through these aesthetic phases every year that I become super obsessed with/ focused on, and I’ve always meant to catalogue them in annual art journals, but I’ve NEVER FINISHED ONE! They always get pushed aside by the need to work, and I hate that so much. If I could just take a year off work and backfill all of my missed concepts into completed books, I would be so happy. But I literally have NO WAY to pay for that, absolutely none. I fucking hate capitalism.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I love to read, but finishing a whole book has been A STRUGGLE lately! Right now I’m chipping away at Tending Brigid’s Flame, which is a quaint lil devotional for the Celtic fire goddess. Very new agey, like cheesy Wiccan vibes. I love that shit!

29. How do you show someone you love them? Quality time!

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? Only if I have a straw. Ice touching my teeth kinda makes me wince.

31. What are you afraid of? Incompetance, doing a bad job, letting someone down, taking up too much space, being a nussiance, etc

32. What is your favourite scent? Incense! Especially cinnamon, dragon’s blood, and amber.

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? I always call people, regardless of age, by the name they ask me to use. Sometimes it’s a surname or title, usually it’s a first name. I’ll ask their preference if I’m unsure. But I definitely don’t default toward a surname, that’s weird.

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? COMPLETELY DIFFERENTLY!!!!!! The need for money rules literally every single hour of my entire life, and I hate it so much. I’m naturally nocturnal, but my job requires me to get up super early and sit in a car for 11 hours a day. I wake up at 5am, come home front work at 5pm, spend an hour or two trying to unwind, then go to bed and do it all over again. I hate my life! Really! I never see the stars, I never exercise, I am completely exhausted and burnt out all the time, and I barely get any quality time with my partner. If money were no object, I would sleep til noon or 1, make art and hike all day, ride my bike and stargaze all night, stay up til 4am reading and playing with my cats, and sleep like a baby. My partner and I would cook dinner for each other and watch Star Trek and collaborate on art projects and I would be so happy.

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean? Here’s my hierarchy: Private pool > ocean > public pool

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? I’d look around to see if anyone obviously dropped it and try to give it back. If I couldn’t find anyone, I’d exchange it for dollars and deposit that shit into my account!

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Of course!! Hundreds!

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? America is evil and needs to be destroyed.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? Lmao this is so cute. If you HAD TO HAVE a tattoo! I really wanna finish my damn sleeves, they’re literally 9 years in the making and barely half finished. But I’d also love more art on my legs! I DESPERATELY want Ziltoid in a lacy valentine heart on my thigh.

40. What can you hear now? Our fish tank water bubbling and my fan on full blast.

41. Where do you feel the safest? Home alone, doors locked, windows covered, lights low. I absolutely LOVE to not be seen or perceived in any way.

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? My fear of discomfort

43. If you could time travel to another era, which one would you choose? I feel like I’d want to be a teen in the 80’s and an adult in the 90’s. Does time travel work that way?

44. What is your most used emoji? 😭 or 😎

45. Describe yourself using one word. Defeated

46. What do you regret the most? Convincing myself that math was too hard or boring (or something?) when I was in middle school. I feel like I’m actually a pretty intelligent person who could’ve totally overcome that difficulty and gone on to understand all kinds of patterns and concepts which have eluded me to this day! It’s so frustrating to try and fight that formative self-concept, which now comes naturally but ultimately sabotages me. 💀

47. Last movie you saw? I made my partner watch Troop Beverly Hills, one of my childhood faves. It’s so fun! I love chick flicks so much.

48. Last tv show you watched? Deep Space Nine. Getting through the first season has been harder than expected. It’s actually my favorite Star Trek show?? (Orrrr maybe that’s TNG, ahh! It’s so hard to choose!) But season one is so baffling and awful! Why is there so much space capitalism??! And racism? And war? And drinking alcoholic beverages? #notmystartrek

49. Invent a word and its meaning. I used to call a single strand of curly hair a “curly quink” when I was a child. Therefore, a “quink” is a section of hair, usually a particularly cute or iconic one.

[itsswimmingtragedycollection]

The Dumpster Fire that is ‘The Order’

First of all, why is his show labeled as a horror? My humble guess is that it was intended for younger audiences?? I genuinely wanna know. Because, even if it was for teens, some blood and a few dead bodies does not a horror make.  Secondly, what the fuck? And I truly mean that.  I mean, the idea itself doesn’t sound bad at all. A college student joins a secret society and finds out his supposedly evil dad is the head of it? He’s also in a werewolf club that fights that same secret society? Sign me tf up. But the execution just takes a really weird turn.  From the get go, you kinda aren’t sure if the show wants to be takes seriously or not. And that question is never answered. Literally in the opening scene the letter changes from ‘we regret to inform you’ to ‘congratulations’ in front of Jack’s eyes and he has absolutely no reaction whatsoever to that peculiar development, which kind of screams ‘not to be taken seriously’ similarly to the whole ‘My evil dad killed my mom so naturally I’m gonna join a secret society, become someone important and powerful and eventually use that power to fight him.’ Who on earth plots a revenge along those lines? But then a second later, the plot falls back in the supernatural drama category.  To top it all off there’s a whole lot of ‘woke humor’ which most of the time comes across as cringe worthy edginess we’re all happy we outgrew after HS.  But, even if you could somehow get pas the not-so-subtle jumps from complete absurdity to realism, there’s nothing else to hold on to. No character, no relationship, no plot line we’re offered is strong enough to pull us in.  In fact. one of the most annoying things about The Order is that basically no character has a personality. I am 8 episodes deep (and I don’t intend to finish it because that’s how boring it is) and I still don’t know anything substantial about anyone. And can we take a second to just look at Jake’s relationship with Alyssa? What even is that? Are they flirting are they not, does he really like her or is she a means to an end, is she into him or his dad, why are they kissing and why does it look so uncomfortable, did they just cast two people with the least chemistry on purpose or is bad writing/directing? So many questions. If we draw a parallel between Jack’s progress with her and him being on board with the wolves, it makes even less sense. He needs how many episodes to decide to try and kiss her, but when it comes to dedicating your whole life to fighting bad magic, you go from ‘no way, you’re all insane, you made me kill an innocent man’ to ‘I pledge my life to the cause’ within two seconds.   Speaking of things that make no sense, I have to mention Jack’s ‘friendship’ with Amir. Don’t get me wrong, I get that we meet people and think to ourselves how that could grow into a beautiful friendship, but acting as if someone you just met is really your friend, and that odd flashback to like one beer they shared, when Amir was found dead, is just... I don’t even know what to say.  The Order as an organization is equally puzzling. Who are they? Why are they? What’s the purpose, what’s the goal, the mission? I can’t settle for just a group of magic users who follow strict hierarchies but kinda all look out for themselves and don’t really like each other that much. And occasionally sacrifice goats. And change people’s memories.(And they can revive a golem and ask it who made it, but the fact that Jack, who found out about magic like yesterday, sabotaged their spell somehow goes right over their magical heads. ) But essentially it’s for the good of the whole wide world.????????????? And the masks are what makes me think an 8yo came up with the whole concept.  If you thought the werewolf knights are any less confusing, think again. They hear noises when ‘bad magic’ happens and solve it by killing anything that moves. Heroes. Also, how do they know what they are supposed to do if they refuse to read anything? I mean, that’s not how a secret society, since that’s more or less what they are, works. Someone has to tell you, show you, teach you. Sure, you have the wolves inside you, but if you don’t know they speak a certain language, it’s fairly certain you don’t know a whole lot. And why is there only four of you? How can four knights take down an organization as big as The Order? Especially since their preferred method is violent murder, something that is not very subtle and does not go unnoticed for long, which basically ensures the rage of the entire Order falling on their heads before they even begin their so called mission. Once again: ????????????????? And what even does ‘bad magic’ mean? The term is so vague and abstract that I have a hard time understanding how can you form an organization that fights something barely defined. All magic can potentially be bad magic. What are the guidelines here? Help me comprehend.  The show also has a very odd relationship towards death. One can sort of ‘forgive’ the wizards and the wolves for being chill about it, but if someone was targeting and butchering people on your campus, wouldn’t you be at least a bit worried? We don’t see any students panicking, we saw one police officer, there were no measures taken by the college, unless you count turning Amir’s death into a bike accident. And just when you start getting used to being casual about it, Jack has a whole meltdown over killing someone the first time he turned. And then also his professor. But even that meltdown is not very convincing, since most of what he does is just screaming ‘I KILLED AN INNOCENT MAN!!!’ into the void, without a much deeper attempt to deal with that. Which is why I don’t get why the show even made an issue out of it.  I also don’t get Jack’s grandpa. Like not even a little bit. Because if you think about it, it’s not * that * unimaginable that a little boy would come up with the idea of joining a secret society to avenge his mother’s death, but it is * very * odd to imagine an old ass grown up who not only thinks it’s a good idea to direct your whole young life towards revenge, but encourages it to a point of making a detailed plan on how to do that, and basically spends your entire childhood grooming you to become a little rage fueled bundle of psychological damage. All of this is only scratching the surface of the mess that is The fucking Order, because the show is a giant entangled coil of nonsense and I barely knew where to start. It’s fair to say that the biggest buzzkill is failure to pick a direction and stick with it. You don’t have to look that close to see some of the influences. The biggest one being, obviously, The Magicians, followed by some Teen Wolf, there’s even elements from Scream Queens, a bit of Buffy, a pinch of the Craft, etc. Almost like someone decided to look up successful shows in the supernatural/fantasy/horror genre and just smash them all up together in hopes of making something appealing to the largest audience possible. Personally, as a * very big * fan of before mentioned The Magicians, I get the feeling that Netflix wanted to make something that could rival it, but better. Because TM is, dare I say so, one of the best, if not the best, shows of the decade. I honestly have not seen anything like it, that has the same platform, in literally a decade. If you have, please let me know. 

Whit the BDE, edgy, but in a good way, humor, strong political views, strong female characters, fun twist and turns that actually do manage to mix absurd with normal life in a magical, no pun intended, way, sexuality representation, but not in a ‘we just want to please the gays so they give us the views’ way, great male characters we wish we saw more of, compelling character development and so on. Tho the most likable aspect of the series is probably the take on overdone story lines, where they twist the narrative just enough for it to become actually relatable. We all are tired of super special chosen ones who save the world because they are soo special and specially chosen by gods to save the world and all the dumb boring unspecial people with their pure hearts and strong characters. And also find true love.  You see attempts at this within The Order on every turn, except that it doesn’t work nearly as well for them, precisely because they went for that AND MORE. More wouldn’t even be a bad thing if it was’t so all over the place that it just comes off as ‘WE WANT EVERYONE TO LIKE THIS, GIVE US ALL THE VIEWS, ALL OF THEM.’ I am very much inclined to think this is what happened, considering other stuff Netflix has put out there. (Mostly referring to endlessly stupid shit like YOU, which only has the intention of being controversial and attention grabbing, for the views. Tho they do have some fun shit too, don’t get me wrong.) So I guess what I’m trying to say is,  the though of making something like TM, is not a bad one,  I’m all for it, but you actually have to put a shit ton more imagination into it if you want it to work out. But that’s just my opinion.   

[hiyo-silver]

Dear Blue Birb, - Buzz and Woody

Summary:  The losers all go to Stan's Halloween party donning very fitting costumes, with Eddie and Bill matching as usual. Bill drinks to drone out Martin's voice, later seeing Stan making out with a girl from school and promptly going home.

Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 + ao3

Taglist:  @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @s-tanleyuris @yooonbum

The night of the party comes, the amazon packages of Eddie and Bill’s costume pieces trickled in slowly through the week and thankfully they all come on time for the night of October 31st. Bill looks himself in the mirror with his cowboy hat and spurs, the cow print definitely something he’s not used to but makes for a good costume.

“There’s a snake in my boot,” Bill says to his reflection, trying to match the accent and vernacular of the iconic character, the movie of his late elementary school aged self. He tips the hat and leans back to rest only the heel of his right foot on the group, giving a sly smirk and an attempt at a wink. Okay, maybe he just won’t wink at all tonight. He rolls his eyes at himself, picking up his brown faux leather jacket from the bed. Eddie hates this jacket, Bill had purchased it at a thrift store, Eddie could scream for hours about how bad and unsanitary that decision was, but Bill still likes the jacket.

He slips it over his shoulders, starting his way out of the room and down the stairs in his comically clompy boots. He purposefully scuffs his heels all the way down the driveway to the street where his car is parked. He turns his music up, a Halloween playlist Richie made way back in fifth grade. It’s basically iconic now, another loser tradition to listen to around the season of candy and tie-dyed looking trees.

The low grumble of his motor serves as a comfort at this point. His car always sounds like it has the lungs of a smoker, not unlike his Grandma Lou who he only sees around summertime when she and his grandfather come up from Bangour. He drives down the street, it only takes a while to arrive at Bev’s. A small scowl tempts him when he sees Martin on the porch with her already. He promised he’d be nice, he always keeps his promises. But he doesn’t usually make promises he isn’t sure he can keep. Beverly begging him to be kind was just too much to admit defeat to.

The bubbly redhead climbs into the back seat with Martin. Thank God the boy took the hint and follows her into the back instead of deciding the front would be a good spot for him. Bill probably would die if he needed to sit up front with Martin. His skin already crawls when the teen speaks to him, he really hates feeling so mean but he knows it stems purely from his discomfort, the feeling of unsafety. For all he knows, Martin could tell anyone at any time, and Bill simply cannot have that.

“What song is this? It sounds straight out of 2011,” Martin asks, his tone more critical than Bill feels ready to deal with. He glances back before starting the car again, only realizing then that Martin’s costume includes nothing but a short black dress with words taped all over it, not even to mention the scraggly looking fake white beard hooked over his ears with elastic.

“It is from 2011, it’s a playlist one of our friends made several years ago, it’s legendary, and no, I won’t turn it off,” Bill says, his own tone short and frustrated, he doesn’t really like his plans to change. He’s clung to his friends for a reason. They have always been kind and there for him. They care for him a way his family simply doesn’t, by now he can admit it. And Martin Addison does not have anywhere near the right to change any of this, he’s only an asshole that Bill needs to keep happy so his own private information stays private.

“Alright,” Martin sighs, lifting his arms at the elbows in defeat, nobody really expects quiet Bill Denbrough to snap on them, especially when the losers are around. Usually, if Bill is going to scold someone or be rude, he makes a point to keep that away from his friends. They’re too positive a piece in his life now to want to taint that with his sour attitude.

Bev raises her eyebrows, giving him a look through poking her head up to be visible in the rearview mirror, giving him a disappointed look. Bill would be fine if she was mad, but disappointed is what he can’t deal with. “We’re picking Mike up next and then Ben on the way back in the direction of Stan’s place,” he changes the topic, not knowing how else he could possibly diffuse the situation.

“Alright, Billyboy,” Bev sighs. She doesn’t appreciate his avoidance, he could have apologized. If only she knew how Martin had been to Bill in private, maybe she’d understand the seemingly random aggression coming from her fellow redheaded friend.

Bill turns the dial up for the music to play louder, rolling his window down a crack, thinking briefly about taking his hat off to feel the wind in his hair, but decides against the possible hat hair situation he has going on. He presses harder on the gas pedal, the car humming louder and the air whipping in through the window with a choppy sound that Bill is so used to that he hardly notices. He likes the feeling of the wind in his face and coursing through his hair. It’s a main reason he always pumped his legs so hard on that old bike of his, now gathering dust in the garage, subject to being the base of many spider homes.

He rolls up in front of Mike’s farm, the radio playing loudly being enough to signal Mike to come out. The boy comes out in a scarecrow costume, a bright orange face paint triangle drawn onto his nose, a green circle on his right cheekbone to be a patch of fabric. It honestly really does look really cute on him, the colors stand out bright on his skin and it looks especially good on him.

He cringes a bit at seeing Martin in the back and hearing how loud Bill is playing the music, he immediately knows what’s up. He slides into the passenger seat up front with Bill, not liking Martin much himself. Hopefully Bill can help him not have to deal with him through the night. Ben and Eddie and Stan and Richie all seem not to mind Martin, it’s only Mike and Bill who are bothered, and Mike doesn’t even know why the latter is bothered by him.

“We’re gonna go get Ben now, you sure Stan will appreciate your costume scaring away all the birds in your yard?” Bill jokes, nudging Mike in the arm teasingly before he turns back to pull out of Mike’s driveway. Pulling out of this driveway is genuinely a skill, seeing how long and bumpy it is, but with Bill often being the losers’ driver he’s definitely mastered this skill. “I do like the costume by the way, it’s cute on you,” Bill smiles softly.

“Thanks,” Mike says with his own happy smile. Halloween is one of the losers favorite holidays. They don’t need to be cool on Halloween. “Ah, we’ll have to tell Stan not to worry, I look too friendly to scare anything off,” he says with a very Mike-esc smirk. Mike has an easy smile to go along with, having smooth teeth and a little gap between the bottom two. It gives his smile the most contagious aura among the losers.

“I wonder what Ben decided to dress as, I can assume you can already tell what Eddie’s gonna be,” he chuckles to himself, keeping his eyes on the part of the road that his headlights illuminate. He’s a careful driver. The stutter he had as a kid was apparently caused by a car accident when he was three years old, or so his mother always ingrained into his young head up until the point when she felt she no longer had to warn him, he was hardly into double digits when he understood the full danger of two things, cars and pedophiles.

“Probably something cute, I think it’s kinda funny, as kids we always wanted to be scary,” Bev chuckles, though she shouldn’t be talking in her flowy short white dress and angel wings. She’s seen the pictures of the young boys in their vampire and zombie costumes, bottles of fake blood and latex, wanting to scare some other unsuspecting kid in a way that would have Eddie pissing himself at that point in life. “It’s like we always wanted to be older but now we just want to grow downwards. Taxes are gonna be so lame next year,” she says, her voice far away and wistful.

Martin, being the kiss-ass he is, immediately starts laughing at the joke, it wasn’t even much of a joke but he’s trying so hard to impress her that he’ll take it as one to please her, she looks confused for a moment but his hyena cackle draws her in, bringing out her own giggle to the sounds of the car.

Bill finally pulls into the driveway of Ben’s bungalow home, waiting for the boy to come on out, his form covered by a thin linen sheet, holes cut for his eyes so he can see. It’s the most classic of costumes, sounds exactly like something Ben would do. This isn’t the first year he’s worn this costume. This was obviously a fresh sheet but it’s the third time (not consecutively, Ben decides that would be just sad) that he’s donned the same persona on the night of October 31st.

“Happy Halloween!” he says brightly as he slides into the backseat of the car, lifting the sheet so he can talk without the white fabric muffling his words. He lets his sheet fall again before buckling into his seat, pushing Bev into the middle seat next to Martin.

“Happy Halloween!” Bill returns, “Who’s ready to go party until we regret it?” he smiles to his crowd in the back seat, the company of his actual friends diffusing his anger about Martin, just as he’d hoped they would. He’s always grateful for them, but especially in times like this.

“Yeah!” the group choruses as he finally pulls out of the Hanscom driveway to bring the group to Stan’s place. This is their first year not going trick or treating, but surprisingly not their first year with plans to go through with getting shitfaced on the night of spooks and ghouls.

The outside of the Uris residence is not often decorated for the Halloween season, Andrea always makes jokes about how she’s “too good of Jew” to decorate the home with such things only about a month off of the start of Hanukkah. It’s entirely a joke though, she and Stan just have never been the type to decorate the outside of the house, it would never get taken down in that case. It would be too exciting to put up but taking it down would just fill the mother son duo from their holiday high.

The gang files all out of the car, stumbly and laughing enough that they could probably be taken as already drunk, but it’s only the attitude they have around each other. Bill takes the initiative to knock on the thick door, already hearing the beat of music inside, Bill knows they’re late, it’s in his brand to drop his group off slightly later than he should, it just means the party has already started.

Stan himself comes to the door, his dark hair slicked back with gel that makes it shine in the light of the chandelier in his foyer. His leather jacket holds a similar glisten. He’s dressed as a greaser, which totally makes sense, considering his recent love for the book The Outsiders, and damn does he look good like that with his olive-y toned skin and hazel eyes.

The group shoves their way in at his invitation, Stan himself sliding to the side to make way for them, the most of the party going on in the living room. Youtube is up on the television playing music, currently on some iconic pop song of the last two months. The teens in the living room are grooving around to the music, a few with cups in their hands, reeking of alcohol and disappointment. The cups aren’t even the iconic party red solo cup, they’re actual glasses from Stanley’s kitchen, he’s never been much of a party thrower and aside from the alcohol, he didn’t know what else he was supposed to provide for his guests.

Bill goes off on his own already, Stan’s home is more than familiar to him, he’s been here quite a few times. He grabs a green plastic kids cup that he’s probably has owned since his childhood. Bill doesn’t trust himself with booze and something glass, he’s sure to drop it when the beer goggles kick in and he loses his balance.

He pours himself only a bit, he knows he’s a lightweight, he hardly drinks. He’s what many of the kids would call “mostly preppy”. He behaves himself and most of his rebellion comes with due cause and wouldn’t harm anything but himself. He returns to the living room with his cub, cringing at the taste of the beer, he would never admit that he often goes for something smoother and fruitier, but obviously Stanley Uris would have absolutely no knowledge of the tastes of alcohols. He may be providing the drink, but this is his first time ever not being sober at a party, and only because it feels safe in the confines of his own home.

It surely takes time, but Bill finds himself even drinking more whenever Martin speaks. It’s like a drinking game, whenever he hears the awful screeching sound of that man’s voice, he takes another long gulp off of his drink. He doesn’t know how they end up outside, but some kids are playing beer pong, as soon as they lose interest Bill finds himself shoving Bev’s arm incessentely, “Bev- Bev, B-Bev, Bev, can we play?” he begs in his less than fully coherent state.

She only smiles, drinking from her own glass, her expression warm like the buzz flowing through her veins. “Good idea Billy!” she exclaims, holding onto his arm to guide him to the table, she honestly worries more about his sobriety than her own, though she also isn’t the one who’s been drinking to drown out someone in specific.

They hardly make it to the table before Bill places a kiss to Beverly’s cheek and goes to stand on the other side, he doesn’t even know why he kissed her, it’s like if he drank enough to make everything swirly it makes his mind turn a little bit straight. The thought of swirling colors and lines dancing around behind his eyes makes him laugh to himself. He just continues proving how much of a lightweight he is to his peers still hanging out and talking around him. Heck, it’s the first party of the year, they’re probably just as shitfaced.

Martin is definitely equally as bad, taking his spot next to Bev on their side of the table, it’s like a given that he’s playing on her team. Mike takes a spot off to the side when he sees Stan stand beside Bill, knowing full well that none of the white boys at the table even fit their own stereotype of knowing at all how to play beer pong and finding a bit of humor in watching Bev try and explain it, her hands moving wildly with the waves of her voice.

He stays sober, knowing his mom would have him by the earlobes if he came home more than a little tipsy, and he fully respects his mama. He also doesn’t doubt that he’ll need to drive the others home in Bill’s car, having his license on him, he knows Eddie will also be sober, but Sonia Kaspbrak has way too much against Eddie learning to drive. She claims it’s about safety but really it’s probably about how he hungers for independence.

Bev finally makes her first shot, Bill as her opponent. The white plastic ball bounces with little whacks against the table, plopping luckily right into the cup, making Bill groan. “Sooo, I gotta take a drink now?” he asks, already having forgotten the rules of the game. Bev nods with a devilish grin that fully contradicts her angel costume, Bill lifting the cup to his lips to let some of the gross liquid run it’s way down his throat. He gags and looks over to hear a whooping cheer coming from a familiar voice, he could hear it anywhere.

The losers usually keep their costumes secret until the day of if they don’t get too excited and spill about them. They’re all glad Richie didn’t tell him about this costume, thankful they didn’t have to imagine this sight until the exact moment they spot him behind them in Stan’s backyard. It almost looks like he didn’t even know his own costume himself until today, signature Richie.

He dons a yellow cropped tank and some shorts, already missing his shoes, they’d been some tall black boots that his intoxicated self simply couldn’t walk in. On his head rest a pair of black swimming goggles, his hair up in a ponytail on the top of his head to try and mimic the small bits of hair that minions have on his head. It’s only cemented and proven by the name tag plastered right above his belly button. “Hi, my name is.. Bob the Minion” and it’s the only piece of the look that makes it obvious, they’d otherwise be at a loss.

“Go Beverllyyyyyyy!” he shouts in a slurred tone, his voice ringing through the backyard, having everyone looking in his direction, the neighbors probably even hear him so Stan shushes him almost as loudly as Richie’s original shout.

“Beep beeep Rich,” Stan grumbles, rubbing his face to try and gain some clarity. Being himself, he really doesn’t like how alcohol makes him feel. He doesn’t like the minimal control his brain actually has as he’s under the influence. This will definitely be his last time being drunk for quite a long time, thankfully his first time is enough to teach him.

Richie takes the shushing with the utmost importance, having the tendency to shift in and out of seriousness when he’s been drinking, a very unique drinking personality, though the losers attribute it to that he already damn near acts drunk when he’s not under the influence of anything at all.

The games goes on, Mike deciding to cheer on Bill and Stan’s side seeing as Richie obviously took Bev and Martin’s, he just wants everyone to feel supported. At one point Stan walks away and nobody notices. Finally it comes to Stan’s turn and their beer fuzzy minds realized he’s disappeared off somewhere else, which prompts Bill to announce that he’ll go seek him out.

Bill finds his way up the stairs, clinging onto the railing to keep his jelly legs upright. He goes to Stan’s room, opening the door as he sings the other boy’s name. Fuck, the gay comes out when he’s wasted. “Stannnnyyy~” he coos, peeking in and seeing Stan’s hands up a girl’s shirt, their lips locked together, lips pulling at each other. The two look back at Bill in shock as he catches them, and Bill pulls the door shut as fast as he can. He stumbles right back down the stairs until he finds his Buzz counterpart again, damn near crying.

“Eddie, take me home, I’m drunk,” he demands, looping his arms around Eddie’s waist and dropping his head to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie hugs in return, taken aback by Bill’s state. Even as his best friend, he doesn’t see him like this much. Bill gets all clingy when he’s sad but it can also been seen as just his drunkness so Eddie doesn’t see it entirely as cause for alarm, simply taking Bill’s hand to guide him.

“Hey, let’s go find Mike, he said he’d drive us if you couldn’t,” he says in a hushed voice, imagining that being that intoxicated must be almost like sensory overload, which he knows quite too well with his anxiety. He pulls Bill close to him as he maneuvers around the other teens, taking him outside where he last remembers mike being, hopefully well on his way to finding them a ride home, he just wants to get some water and sleep into his friend so he’d be ready for school again by the time Monday comes.

He finds Mike sitting on the outdoor table, not on a chair, those are all taken, but on the table with his legs hanging over the edge of it, swinging them back and forth to hear the crunch of the straw tucked into various places of his costume. He looks right over at Eddie and Bill with concern lacing his face, his eyebrows drawn together. Eddie explains that he’s absolutely not letting Bill behind the wheel like this, Mike understands and agrees wholeheartedly to drive them back to the Denbrough house.

Eddie thanks Mike for taking them back to Bill’s house, feeling awful for Mike having to walk back to Stan’s since Bill will need his car, especially once he needs to get Eddie home the next morning. Nevertheless, he pulls Bill on into the house, his parents thankfully already in bed, it’s past midnight by now, so Eddie doesn’t take very long to get Bill up the stairs and into bed finally. It takes the time it does only because Bill is uncooperative.

He pushes Bill onto his bed, bouncing back as he hits the mattress, that limp and pliant now that he doesn’t fight back anymore now that he’s in bed, it’s almost like he felt like he had to work against Eddie to get what he wanted, his mind is too hazy to understand. Eddie disappears for a moment, coming back up with a tall glass of water, coaxing Bill into a sitting position. “C’mon, asshole, you need water.” he pushes him up from behind to get him back into a vertical position.

Eddie tilts the glass to Bill’s lips letting the liquid run down his throat, trying to get him to drink the whole thing. He doesn’t want a hungover Bill the next day. Bill only whines a little at not getting to lay down anymore. Finally Eddie gets him to down the glass and lets him lay down again. He takes Bill’s hat off and removes his shoes and socks, good enough. He won’t be dehydrated or too overheated.

He takes off his own costume fully, taking some of Bill’s pajamas from the drawer across the room, a grey v-neck and some red flannel pajama pants. He crawls into bed next to Bill like he does when he sleeps over on a normal night, chuckling a bit at Bill when he sees him drooling, shaking him awake a little, “I’m lonely,” he says softly.

Bill blinks his eyes open, reaching an arm around Eddie carefully, looking for affection himself after what he saw earlier, and it’s not so different from normal. “I’m here Edward,” he says with a little smile to him, enjoying the sleepy warmth he can leach off Eddie.

“You ever just, think about how in love you are with someone?” Eddie asks, a dreamy look on his gentle face. He rubs Bill’s arm comfortingly. “I’ve been in love with a friend for a long time, it’s really dumb though.”

Bill only nods, holding loosely but close at the same time, nodding off again, snoring even before he can respond to Eddie’s words. Eddie smiles softly, seeing him comfortable being enough. He doesn’t need an answer.

He wishes he could explain further that he’s in love with him, with Bill. but he doesn’t want to wake him again. So he simply decides to sleep himself as well.

[s-nebul0sa]

Just for that I have to work and can't go outside. Every even number 😄 have fun in the sun

🖕🏼🖕🏼😘😘 Thanks for asking

2. A picture of me:

You know it’s not gonna happen. So here is a very realistic and life-like drawing of me I totally did not make in 2 minutes time on my phone without any pencil thing or anything. My actual face is not as crooked I think. (And paler. I just compared and less reddish/pink)

4. Last time I cried and why?

Err.. I think maybe Sunday? Because I was anxious and wouldn’t stop being anxious. Otherwise, definitely Friday because same reason plus I was reading a fic.

6. Favourite band:

Omg I know nothing of bands. What are bands? Uhhmm I’ll pick the first one that comes to mind. When I look at my spotify playlist because I can’t come up with anything. I’m terrible at this okay. Is pentatonix a band? If not, sucks for you cause I’m still picking them.

8. Top 5 candies:

Black liquorice (look, I’m Dutch, don’t blame me, this stuff is in my veins. And yes, I mean the salty versions because we ignore that fake ‘sweet’ shit (unless it’s the coins version))

Haribo apple rings

Haribo anything else really

Lion bars

Katja yoghurt gums 

10. Biggest turn ons:

As if I’m self aware enough to know this… Fine. I’ll try 😋

Geeking out over stuff. Being excited about ‘nerdy’ stuff. Red lipstick. Being interested in me. Breathing/being alive.

I think that’s some of them probably.

12. Ideas of a perfect date:

Something where you can talk or not have to sit still for hours. I’ve never been on a date actually so I don’t know what I like. But like, talking seems good. Getting to know each other. But on the other hand, laser gaming sounds fun too. So something that’s either fun like laser gaming or laid back like a picnic.

14. Piercings I want:

None. I have pierced ears and I don’t even want that anymore (got them pierced when I was a kid and really wanted it…)

16. Favourite movie:

I think I’ve said this before but I’m not good with ‘favourite’ anything. So err the parent trap? Because I think that’s the movie I’ve seen most and it does always manage to entertain me even though I know the plot by heart.

18. Phobia:

I’m not sure if these are phobias or fears but: the dark, heights, fire…. and probably some more vague/not as material shit like losing friends.

20. Height: 

167.5 cm (yes, very important that 0.5 cm)

22. What’s your shoe size?

39

24. Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?

Nope

26. What’s one thing you regret?

I don’t like to think about this stuff because I end up in a spiral of negative thoughts and memories I cannot change. So I’ll keep it simple. Not buying better ice cream when I went to the store the other day. 

28. Favourite ice cream?

Italian ice cream from the one ice cream place in the village my mom works. Specifically, cinnamon and stracciatella flavour.

30. What my last text message says:

“I think I’m getting a real bad cold. Or ill. I hope the first.” (This is a translation, also not a text but whatsapp is the European/Dutch equivalent of texting these days)

32. Have you ever painted your room?

Yes, I didn’t like the unpainted walls because that’s ugly so I didn’t really have another option. Also, I think it was one of the requirements for moving in here. 

34. Have you ever slept naked?

I have, when it was really really hot.

36. Have you ever had a crush?

Yes, I think. Okay, no. Yes, I’m pretty sure.

38. Have you ever stolen money from a friend?

No, never.

40. Have you ever been in a fist fight?

Not really. I’ve punched someone before but I don’t think they hit back (I punched her in the face and she had braces and apparently that hurt…)

42. Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?

To be determined.

44. Have you ever made out with a stranger?

No

46. Have you ever left your house without telling your parents?

I do it all the time. Badass, huh. Or do you mean when I was a minor and living with them? In that case, no I didn’t dare.

48. Have you ever ditched school to do something more fun?

No, I was too much of a goody-two-shoes.

50. Have you ever seen someone die?

No, thank Rao.

52. Have you ever kissed a picture?

I’m pretty sure I had to do that in play once (just a peck). Don’t think I ever did it myself ‘in real life’ though.

54. Have you ever love someone or miss someone right now?

That’s one weirdly worded question. At least, my brain thinks so. But I’m not currently missing someone and I don’t get the other half…

56. Have you ever made a snow angel?

Yes, many.

58. Have you ever cheated while playing a game?

I was the sorest loser you’ll ever meet when I was a kid and I cheated all the time to avoid losing. I’d be the bank in all the games that needed someone to take care of that and then slip myself money or resources. 😂😂 I don’t cheat anymore, I just don’t play to win and then I don’t mind not winning.

60. Have you ever fallen asleep at work/school?

I’ve fallen asleep waiting for someone to come study while I was sitting at uni, but that was tucked away in a corner of a couch that was behind another couch with a super high back so no one saw me except my friend. Other than that, I don’t think I have.

62. Have you ever felt an earthquake?

I don’t think I have.

64. Have you ever ran a red light?

By bike, many a times. By car? Never.

66. Have you ever had detention?

Not a thing here, so no.

68. Have you ever hated the way you look?

Yes, often.

70. Have you ever pole danced?

Yes. I sucked. The muscles you need for that man… 

Want some context? It was during the introduction week for uni and we got to do some sports at the sports centre and every group was just assigned which sports they got to do. We got assigned pole dancing (and some others).

72. Have you ever been to the opposite side of the country?

Depends on what you define as opposite. I have been to the opposite side of where I live now and I guess also kind of from my parents. But my country is super tiny so I’ve been in most (general) places….

74. Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?

I have

76. Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?

Definitely.

78. Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?

No

80. Have you ever sang in the shower?

Yes

82. Have you ever dreamt that you married someone?

I once dreamt I had a husband who passed away (and woke up sobbing only to realise a solid 10 minutes later I had never even married someone, nor liked someone enough to want to). 

84. Have you ever gotten your tongue stuck to a flag pole?

Are flag poles so prevalent in the U.S. that you actually know where to find one to get your tongue stuck to? Also, did they never teach you about touching cold objects with bare skin, especially wet skin like the tongue?

86. Have you ever been a cheerleader?

Also not a thing here, so no. And if it were a thing here, it’d also be a no probably.

88. Have you ever brushed your teeth?

Rao, I hope no one ever answers ‘no’ to this question. (So that’s a ‘yes’ for me.)

90. Have you ever played chicken?

What is this? Just pretend that you’re a chicken? Or is this some game I don’t know? It’s no to either I guess.

92. Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?

I’ve probably been shouted at something along those lines. I mean, I’ve also been shouted at I got ‘nice tits’ whilst wearing a thick winter coat and a long scarf over it so I doubt it was even visible I had them in the first place…. Men… 🙄

94. Have you ever been easily amused?

I guess? 

96. Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?

I probably mooned my sister. But to be fair, someone allowed this Asian cartoon on a kids network and that boy mooned everyone so my sister started doing it too. I can only assume that if I ever mooned anyone myself, it was in this context and I did it to my sister. (That cartoon got banned and I watched some stuff on youtube the other day and damn what idiot thought that was appropriate for kids?!)

98. Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?

Yes, especially when being introduced to many new people. 

100. Give us one thing about you that no one knows.

I don’t know whether this exists (except if I don’t know this thing about me either). I talk about wanting a pet but I’m also kinda scared of animals?

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Something that I wrote a while back

Synopsis: It’s about a guy who is kinda like a grim reaper. Yeah. He helps souls transfer into the afterlife.  Trigger Warning: Death Word: ~1900

Life and death.

The beginning and the end.

Anything that happens between those two points is up to the person living it. We can’t control what we are born into. Sometimes, a person can try as hard as they want and still receive nothing from their efforts. Sometimes, luck can grace a person with its presence and give them something that they didn’t deserve. Luck is a coin whose faces are one and the same. Luck isn’t a coin you necessarily flip.

But even if where we start is different, can we end up in a place we want to by the time our mortal lives end?

Within human beings, there are different nationalities, ethnicities, beliefs, morals, and levels of capabilities. We vary in size, face, hair, shape, and even aspirations. But even when you are born into something, it’s okay to believe you want to do something else… right?

Differences make us unique and adaptable, yet we hurt each other for it. It scares me to think that I’m different from you. I’m different from everyone else. We are alike in so many ways yet not the same.

Most of us have secrets. I am no exception. I have many secrets that I conceal within me, but through one of my secrets, I have met many people. I have seen many lives come before me, and I’ve lent a hand to those who were in the dark for I shed a light that guided them to new beginnings. But by no means am I a god; I am a normal mortal human being who is imperfect. I have sinned, made mistakes, and cleaned the pieces from the messes I’ve made. I simply guide souls with regrets into the afterlife for reincarnation. A part of their soul and character remains, but it is regained with every new life. I make sure people are at peace before a part of them says goodbye.

I knocked on her door. I had only received her name. We haven’t even met. She opened the door.

“You’re here to pick me up?” she asked. I nodded. “Well, I’m going to need to get something. You can come in if you like.”

She walked back inside. I invited myself into the quaint house. The stained hardwood floors paved down the hallway. I could hear shuffling in the back where her room was located. There was a living room with an old flower-print couch on the side. There were pictures on the mantle of a girl growing up through the years. She was riding her bike in one then catching fish in another. As she grew older, she began to wear more makeup and began to smile a little less. The fine china dishes were untouched in the cabinets collecting dust. It was a fine home. I walked down the hall with my steps echoing with every touch of the dark hardwood. Pictures lined the walls.

“Did you draw these?” I pointed to the images boxed by frames in the hallway by her room. She didn’t respond. It started with juvenile portraits of her mom, dad, and her. She began drawing simple flowers then ballgowns and dresses. Her final portrait was of a solemn crying face that seemed to belong to her. I turned and entered her room. It was a little cold, but it was mostly neat besides a few pieces of clothing on top of the dresser. “I’m not done yet. Can you please wait outside?” Her voice was shaking. I may have only caught a glimpse, but it was all I needed. She stood over her desk with teardrops cascading down her face. Her hands trembled subtly as it held a picture frame in her hand. She took a minute to recuperate then met me outside.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.”

We began walking down the cracked pavement. There was no one around. The world seemed quiet and untouched.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Lucy Hadfield.” She grew stiff.

“How old are you?”

“I’m… 18.” She was uncomfortable.

“May I ask—”

The wind blew a gust. Her flowing blonde hair glistened in the setting sun. She still had tears in her crystal blue eyes. “May I ask how you died?” Her body let go. A few more tears streamed down her face. She tried to smile. She scoffed with a shaking voice, “Shouldn’t you already know?” The clearest and most honest tears streamed from her face.

She sighed, “I had already gotten everything out of the way too. My soul was put at peace the moment I died. There was nothing left unsaid.” She tried to laugh and gasp for air. “I think my parents knew it was only a matter of time. I hung out with the wrong people, did stupid things, and wanted to be rebellious. I was a teenager. I… I wanted to fit in. I wanted to feel okay. I wanted to be alright. I didn’t want to fit into the norm, and I knew I wasn’t going to be accepted.”

She looked into the mirror and began to sob. “But I didn’t want to die! I didn’t want to leave everyone and everything behind. I tried so hard.” She gasped for air as tears were streaming down her face. She was kneeling collapsed on the floor.

“March 27th. Opioids. I died of an overdose! I couldn’t do anything! I was powerless! I was filled with regret. The paramedics tried their best to save me. They injected me. They performed CPR. I was too far in. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Why did this happen? I felt trapped. No one listened! Why does no one listen?! I cried for help! Why did they leave me alone?! My anxiety was a monster. It got out of hand, and my parents didn’t want to do anything about it! It was just recreational pot at first. Then it went to pain killers, cocaine, but nothing stopped it. I felt so lost. I tried to kill myself, and my parents still didn’t know what to do. They almost lost their daughter once, but they couldn’t save her! They had a name to upkeep. My dad was a reputable municipal politician. My mom was a stay-at-home mom. I was tortured by the circumstances I was born in; can’t you see? I just wanted someone to look out for me, someone to help, and when I thought I found the right people, it just got worse. I understand now that they didn’t know what do to. I get it.”

She tearfully smiled, “My soul is at peace knowing that my parents now accept what happened. They know their faults. My father now advocates for mental health. I couldn’t be happier, so why… why am I still so upset. Why am I still crying?”

“I do not know. I sincerely apologize.” I bowed again. I was lying. She had a right to still be in pain. One of the hardest parts of my job was putting a straight face. Almost everyone I meet who has died may be at peace, but many of them do wish to live again to see their loved ones. It is not that they are not at peace, but they simply desire something that has been taken away from them. You truly don’t know what you have until it’s gone. “I can assure you that—”

“Why am I still in pain?” she asked. “It hurts so much…” she clutched her chest. “How can my heart hurt if it’s not even beating?”

“Even though the pain from the mortal world is lifted upon death, some pain transcends beyond while some new feelings may emerge.” She rose from the ground and slapped me. She raised her fist angrily before setting it back down.

“What am I doing? I’m just delaying the inevitable.” Her arms slung by her sides. “Please, let me say goodbye to them. I was a terrible daughter. A terrible human being. It’s not their fault they didn’t know what to do. Please, I want to share some time with them.”

The tears slowed but never stopped. I stayed outside the room. A thought lingered in my mind. There was a letter addressed to her that was written post-mortem.

“To my beautiful daughter Lucy, Your father and I miss you very much. He’s fighting hard every day in your place. Sometimes I find him asleep on his desk with drool on his paperwork. We think of you every day. Your life never leaves our minds. We’re sorry for how we handled your grief. We should’ve been there when you needed us. I’m now giving speeches and seminars to parents everywhere. As much as we miss you every day, we don’t want your efforts to go to waste. We’ve got it from here! Thank you for being our daughter. We are so proud of you, - Mom”

It was in a frame covered with tears.

She walked into the kitchen where both her parents were sitting at the kitchen table enjoying dinner. A certain glimmer was missing from their eyes. Their smiles were pained, and their movements were strained. She embraced them hard. She didn’t want to let go. Not yet. Her parents paused it was as if something had come over them. Tears filled their eyes, but they did not know the cause.

“Mom, Dad, I love you. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me.”

She began walking out of the house and gave her final goodbyes. I managed to read the piece of paper that was beside the picture frame scattered with tears.

“What’s going to happen now?” she asked.

“Your spirit will remain here, but your life will be passed on for reincarnation. In essence, your spirit in this lifetime will never die and will always remain, but your life force will be reborn.”

She stepped through the doors of the afterlife. It’s an experience few can describe, but I have seen it countless times. You may feel like you are alone in death, but you never are. Loved ones and other’s spirits will guide you through the unknown. Everyone experiences it differently, but nobody is ever forgotten or alone. Even in life, you may feel isolated, you may feel like you are forgotten or alone, but that is never the case. Someone, whether it’d be through spirit or guidance, is always there. She waved goodbye as she faded with the doorway. She had a smile on her face, but unlike before, it was one that was pure and true. Her soul was truly at peace, her spirit was released, and she was free to move on to her next life without being burdened by her past. Lucy Hadfield will never be truly dead like some in life believe; she will simply be beyond the mortal’s view watching over those she loves and cares about.

This section ends here, and even though this story takes a more dramatic and sullen tone, I was originally intending for this story to be a bit lighter? It all changes when someone stumbles in. She completely changes everything. A bit more of the reaper’s background (won’t say backstory) is revealed. The two meeting turns into more confusion (for me because I don’t know how to write it).

[fromtheringapron]

ECW CyberSlam 1996

Date: February 17, 1996

Location: ECW Arena in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 

Attendance: 1,300.

Commentary: Joey Styles.

Results:

1. The Bad Crew (Dog and Rose) and Judge Dredd defeated The Dirt Bike Kid, Dino Sendoff, and Don E. Allen.

2. Spiros Greco defeated El Puerto Riqueno. 

3. Taz (with Bill Alfonso) defeated Joel Hartgood.

4. Buh Buh Ray Dudley (with Big Dick Dudley, Dances with Dudley, and Sign Guy Dudley) defeated Mr. Hughes.

5. The Bruise Brothers (Don and Ron) defeated The Headhunters (Headhunter A and Headhunter B).

6. J.T. Smith defeated Axl Rotten. 

7. Dog Collar Match: Francine and The Pitbulls (Pitbull #1 and Pitbull #2) defeated Stevie Richards and The Eliminators (Saturn and Kronus). 

8. ECW World Television Championship Match: 2 Cold Scorpio (champion) fought Sabu to a time limit draw. 

9. Shane Douglas defeated Cactus Jack.

10. ECW World Heavyweight Championship Match: Raven (champion) (with Kimona Wanalaya, Stevie Richards, and The Blue Meanie) defeated The Sandman.  

Analysis

The 1996 edition of CyberSlam is all over the place in terms of quality so, as a result, my feelings on it are all over the place as well. There’s no doubt ECW is hitting its stride at this point. They’ve firmly established themselves as the alternative to the then PG WWF and WCW, and taking as many shots at both whenever the opportunity arises. They’ve also solidified a devoted, passionate fanbase. I don’t think the ECW crowds have aged particularly well, mind you. For every moment when their participation helps the show, there’s a bunch of other moments when they’re kinda obnoxious and give off a certain brand of testosterone-fueled white male rage that later became one of the worst byproducts of the WWF’s Attitude Era.

The first hour of the show is mostly unwatchable garbage. In a way, you can see in the first hour the chaotic, car-crash booking that the Attitude Era would later make mainstream, with its short matches and constant interruptions. I really do appreciate ECW’s complete aversion to the structure that’d grown stale in both the WWF and WCW. The only problem, however, is that it’s not well-done for what it’s trying to achieve. It’s just a mess, and not in a fun way. There is some interest in watching Taz in the early stages of his push, but you could fast-forward through most of the hour and be fine. And I don’t recommend the fast-forward button often.  

So it’s funny that for as dreadful as it can be, the first hour also features the show’s best and most memorable moment: the surprise debut of Brian Pillman. Few wrestlers have seemed as legitimately unhinged and dangerous as Pillman. His promo here is filled with all the usual Bischoff-bashing that everyone in ECW did at some point, but there’s more believability when he does it. When he threatens the audience that he’ll yank out his dick and piss in the ring, I totally believe it. I am wholly convinced that is something Pillman would do in real life (and if some shoot interviews are to be believed, he totally did). The whole bit with him attacking the fan, who is obviously a plant, is at once a bit too over-the-top but, again. It wouldn’t surprise me if the real Pillman got in trouble for the same thing. This is also one of those moments where the ECW crowd helps more than it hinders, because you can tell they’re completely buying into it too.

The show finds its groove in the second hour. The 2 Cold Scorpio/Sabu match is considered an ECW classic. At the risk of sounding incredibly weird, something about the match reminds me of when I’d hold matches with my wrestling figures as a kid, in which I’d have the figures pull out all these ridiculous maneuvers without any consideration of building a story. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing because much like those matches I’d hold as a kid, it’s a lot of fun, even if the time limit draw is kinda deflating. We’re also given a glimpse at Cactus Jack, whose anti-hardcore heel persona remains a high point for ECW. Foley, at his peak, is unrivaled when it comes to character work. He shows up here for his match with Shane Douglas wearing a cheap suit, but it’s amazing how he can wring out pathos from the most gimmicky of ideas. It’s a skill that comes in handy when he jumps skip to the WWF a month later to portray his most famous persona, Mankind.  

So, yes, it’s hard to sum up my overall feelings on a show this erratic, but that’s pretty much ECW in a nutshell. The promotion had to make do with what they had which could result in a product that ran the gamut from piss poor to fun and, at times, brilliant. Fortunately, in their peak years, they hit the latter quite often.

My Random Notes 

A man can be seen in the front row wearing a Confederate flag shirt. Wonder if he regrets that now. Probably not.

The Dirt Bike Kid totally sounds like a gimmick the WWF would’ve done around the same time period.

Tons of WCW and WWF bashing here, which is expected. But I can’t help but notice the irony in how many ECW guys later jumped ship to those promotions anyway, mainly because Paul Heyman most likely paid them like shit.

There is some red substance on the floor at some point and I’m not sure if it’s from JT Smith throwing a pizza or not but, either way, it bothers me.

One little detail I love is the ECW fans bringing their own props to the show for the wrestlers to use. Huge fan of that kind of audience participation.

I dig the spot where JT Smith plays possum by making it look as if he botched a move off the top-rope. Totally playing into the ECW crowd’s typical “You fucked up” chants and turning them on its head.

The opener may feature some of the most obscure wrestlers that I’ve ever covered on this blog. Any Dino Sendoff fans willing to give me more details on his storied career?

I’ve been trying to determine who the planted fan in the Pillman segment looks like and the closest I can think of at the moment is either Disney’s Pepper Ann or Boomer from the Burger King Kid’s Club, neither whom aren’t even that close in resemblance.

Raven and The Sandman botch a move so badly toward the end of their match that I literally laughed out loud. I guess even in its prime, there were moments where ECW could still feel like your garden variety shit indy.

[bts-love-sweat-tears]

The Boy at the End of the World 1

Title: The Boy at the End of the World, part 1

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Type:apocalypse!au; dystopian!au

Rating: PG

Word Count: 1,955

Listening to: “Diamonds” by Jauz ft. Kiiara (I feel like Jungkook would actually be into this song? Kinda matches his GCF sound; maybe a little too bass-heavy?), “Bad Liar” by Krewella

A/N: Wasn’t planning on releasing this yet, but here’s something for everyone who is going through intense Bangtan withdrawal with me. Seriously, when was the last time they went 5 days without tweeting? Ever? Ofc they don’t owe us anything but I MISS THEM.

I’ve been feeling like it’s the end of the world recently, with various heat waves and political news coming out of my country, which you can definitely see in this fic. On a lighter note, Kook has been making me swerve madly lately, and I’m usually immune to his charms (*lies*) anyway, Mercury is definitely in retrograde or something.

Again I’m playing around with first person-the reader is the narrator <3 For once, I’ve planned out in advance, so there will be more parts to this. But the One Ring Series is a priority for now…

In some ways, the end of the world was a blessing. Of course, that was only once you got past the rather large inconveniences of having no functioning public services, grocery stores, air conditioning, and law enforcement-in no particular order.

But if you could get past the complete and utter lack of structure, it was actually kind of…freeing. When people would run into others they had known before, they were mostly impressed to find each other alive, yardsticks of career, marriage, and educational institutions long since cast aside. As long as your basic needs had been met for the day (not as easy as it might have once seemed), you were free to do whatever you wanted. Which for me meant roaming to what had once been one of the largest riverfront parks in the city and sketching the remains of once shiny skyscrapers, which now resembled crumbling teeth.

Before the fall,I had wanted to be an artist. I’d like to think that I had the talent, but I wasn’t willing to suffer for it-not when I saw the trepidation on my parent’s faces. So I chose the “safe” route, going to school for chemistry and later getting a job testing and refining polymers for various industrial uses. It was vastly more boring-and comfortable- than the starving artist gig, but I liked the precision and attention to detail required. It kept me focused and helped the days go by quickly.

At night, I was still an “artist” in whatever small ways I could be, going to community classes, visiting galleries, and spending more than was strictly necessary at the supply store. In the end though, my responsible choices were all for naught. The unstable lifestyle I had worked so hard to avoid had found me anyway, through circumstances outside of my control.

The art supply store: probably the creature comfort I missed the most from before-the building remained, but the stash and the staff long gone. Walking past it hurt me physically, like running into an ex, so I tried not to. I rationed the pastels and watercolors I had, knowing that after they ran out, I would have to created my own. I knew I could do it, what with my background but it would take a lot of trial and error. Before, I could have just looked it up in the internet, but even that was long gone. Plus, making my own seemed to be a concession, a surrender, an acceptance.

Anyway, I digress. What it meant though, was that due to my seemingly endless supply of hotel and promo pens from years ago, I mostly did ink drawings, in a small leather-bound notebook, in my spot at the riverfront park, always during daylight hours. Night was too dark now that the electric grid was off more reliably than it was on. Even if you had a generator or had jerry-rigged some kind of electrical access, it was better to not draw attention to yourself, unless you had some way to protect what was yours. The country I was from had been relatively safe before the fall, but it was good practice not to risk it. I’d heard rumors of vigilante groups out at night, though so far I’d been lucky not to have any run-ins. Though the line between luck and preparedness was a fine one. Anytime I’d see something that didn’t quite sit right, I’d slip away, drawing as little attention to myself as I could manage. Over the years, I’d become quite good at evasive maneuvers-surviving solo in this new world was no easy feat. I wish I could say I was braver than that, but it had kept me alive for this long in a city decaying from the inside out.

That’s another thing I should make clear- that although those of us who are lucky enough to still be around call it “The Fall” like something sudden, the end of the world was actually a gradual process. Maybe someday, historians (if there are such people still) will assign a set date, Even if they do, it will be for the Jenga block that toppled the tower, the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sure, there were events large and small than led to this, but there were larger trends long before: unjust laws, political despots, environmental degradation, job loss, internal and external terrorism. It was like we tripped and were falling in slow motion, but we couldn’t see our fate until we hit the ground, already bleeding. These were useless thoughts to have, far too late to do anything about it, but they kept me up at night, wondering if I were complicit in myriad small ways for not doing more when I could have, the selfish desire for a quiet life overpowering all else.

The only time I was untroubled by these thoughts or the minutiae of my daily survival was when I was sketching. My mind didn’t wander and despite the limitations of my pen and paper, I was there fully, thinking only of the sunlight on the water, the shade of the clouds overhead, untroubled by the collapse of society below, how to best capture the breeze visibly. People would sometimes come up and watch me. I was always polite, but never took the conversation further than was strictly necessary. Normally they would drift off to seek a more willing conversation partner.

The last few times I’d gone to the park, however, I’d been haunted by a silent boy. Or man-I’d found it impossible to discern his age. He had traces of lingering baby fat, giving him a look of youthful innocence. But I could tell even through his oversized t-shirt that he was built. Not many people had the protein to spare anymore, so this told me that he was either very adept at surviving in this new world, or had people taking care of him. I didn’t ask questions. I couldn’t decide if he was the deer in the metaphorical headlights, or if I should be wary of him, the bunny pursued by the wolf. Everything was survival of the fittest in this world, and at first blush, he was definitely more fit than me. He had never done anything other than watch me sketch, but sometimes when others would approach, I could see a fierce, guarded look in his eye. But the siren song of my partially inked pages called me back, and I soon grew so accustomed to him that I could forget his presence at my back.

We likely could have continued forever in this way, me sketching and him silently at my back had it not been for my encounter with one of the vigilante groups I so feared. I was just arriving back from foraging in one of the now-overgrown parks, when I noticed a shadow slip stealthily past the window of my second-floor apartment-from the inside. With the subsequent adrenaline rush, I was able to hear snippets of a too-casual conversation. The voices were far too relaxed to be inexperienced-whoever was ransacking my apartment had done it many times before, and little fear of retribution. The lack of a visible lookout should have been a clue as well. Without a moment’s hesitation, I slipped back into the lengthening shadows of the early evening, knowing that I was outnumbered and not violent enough to confront them.

I had no plan but I knew better than to roam the remnants of the city looking lost. My purposeful, confident (though false) strides led me back to the riverfront park where I often sketched. Somehow, a solitary bench had been spared from the societal fallout, not yet stripped for kindling or god knows what else. I plopped down, allowing myself to take the first full breath since encountering the renegades at my house.

I was regretting my decision to remain in the city. Before the Fall, I had been a competent young professional, with my own place and all the independence that entailed. My parents had long since retired to their remote lake house, more of a glorified cabin than anything else. I had held on until the final moment, never fully believing that things would fall apart, even as gas was rationed, phones and internet went down, the lights flickered out. I thought my job would keep me safe. By the time I was ready to go, I would have had to walk or bike. Even though I knew the way, I could not be sure what I would encounter in the wilderness past the city limits- at least  here I knew what to expect. The devil you know,and all that.

I sat there, lost in my thoughts and cursing my previous naivety. As I pondered my next move, a towering figure lowered down next to me. I jumped, adrenaline from before still coursing through my veins, and berated myself further for letting my guard down yet again so soon. But my heartbeat settled somewhat when I noticed that it was only my sketching companion.  We sat silently, together but apart, and I was surprised to find that I found his presence comforting. When he spoke, his voice was smoother than I would have expected, a youthful edge still hanging on. It occurred to me that he might actually be younger than me, though I had no way of knowing.

“What are you doing out here so late?” He asked, a crease of concern marring the space between his brows. In my previous life, I would have dismissed such a question as patronizing, but now it only seemed curious that he had observed my coming and going so closely.

I paused, biting my lip. On the one hand, it would be a relief to share something of myself with someone. My mysterious friend had never given any indication that he meant me harm. But hadn’t my current predicament arisen because I had become too comfortable, too complacent? I knew literally nothing about him. He must have sensed my wavering, but he didn’t push it and I was grateful. You might think it awkward, but I found his silence a gentle acceptance that my frayed nerves needed in that moment.

The light faded further and the sky became that velvety indigo that can only be seen on those rare perfect summer nights that I used to take for granted but hadn’t seen in so long. If I hadn’t been so anxious, I would have appreciated it more, and would have wanted to linger longer. Though I no longer enjoyed the night, I felt inexplicably safe with him by my side. As the stars began to come out, he stood up to go, moving almost imperceptibly in the darkness.

“I should get going, or my hyungs will worry,” he said, hesitating. “My name’s Jungkook, by the way.” Though I couldn’t see his face well, the slight tremor in his voice made me thing that he must have been nervous. Did I make himnervous? But before I could continue down that particular train of thought, he continued.

“I know it’s not much, but you’re welcome to come with me. Normally you would have left by now….my hyungs are kind of crazy and loud, but mostly harmless. Only if you want to, though,” he trailed, running his hand through his overgrown hair.

Though I’d been wavering about admitting to needing help since we had sat down, the fondness in his voice when he talked about his brothers had convinced me. With only a little trepidation, I stood up and followed him into the night.

[amalasrosa]

for the ask meme 40. 46. 52. 77. 130. 147. 180. :D 💫💫

40: What do I think about most?Probably iwaoi, drawing, aus, iwaizumi hajime, future, money, work, trying to support myself.

46: Do I play any instruments?Nope. Tried to teach myself the guitar and failed and stopped. I can sing off key.

52: When do I feel most at peace?Mhh not sure. Different situations. Hard to answer right now. I like my flat and room..when I draw something nice..listen to good music..but it can also be while driving my bike fast through the city and feel the wind..I dunno...many different situations.

77: What is my current desktop picture?hahah my own Iwaoi drawing..the one with them sitting at the bench with Tooru on the phone..yes..I am that girl

130: Favourite piece of advice?You regret the things you didn’t do not the ones you did.And for real advices..I guess it depends on the moment and situation..and if its helpful..who its coming from...if I’m not a lil bitch and actual open for advice :D

147: Do I have any piercings?No

180: Do I like shopping?Depends. Not really. Clothe shopping can be frustrating. But I guess it depends on how you do it..and if you need something specific or just have free time and money and can go wild and try on things...then it can be really fun. In all honestly I don’t have the money for shopping sprees...so I haven’t done it on at least 2 years..So yeah..I guess I kinda miss the feeling to just be able to shop

Want to know me better? Send me any number!