#it’s his god given right atp

[codename-adler]

behold, Neil Josten:

did this while at the beach if there's any mistakes just tell me cause I'm in a drowning location!! also I saw two little birds feeding eo and it was the cutest thing ever!! also I'm finally welcoming Jean in my socmed!!!! only bitch who can deal with my babygirl I fear

[killakalx]

17+ content, blank blogs dnf

jealous bsf!dick grayson but atp y’all are fwb. orgasm denial (both of y’all get off dw), begging, maybe manipulation on reader’s part? if you squint??, mild marking kink, poorly proofread

if you manage to make your best friend jealous? he's plotting to deprive you of your orgasm the next time you run to him. i swear it. balls deep, legs folded to your chest, clutching your face so hard your cheeks squish and make you sound all dumb on his cock when you beg. “aw, was he makin you beg like this too? did he have you crying on his cock?” and the thrusts get agonizingly slow, agonizingly deep, just to see how far he can make your eyes roll.

every time your breath hitches and the only sounds you can make are those silent whimpers while your pussy flutters around his cock, he’s burying himself inside you and simply grinding. just enough to keep you on edge. no where near enough to let you fall over the edge. he’ll edge himself if it means turning you into a pathetic and whimpering mess, bucking your hips against the force of his holding you down, but he’s not giving you the pleasure you visit him for until he sees tears swelling under those pretty lashes.

“I should leave you just like this,” he’s contemplating, though he doesn’t really mean it. the petty in him wants to get back at you, make you get a taste of what you’d go through without him, but it’s an empty threat. “‘s that what you want? just use you to get off and send you to what’s-his-name for that O you want so bad?”

when your whimpering gains a bit of coherency, letting him make out the sorry’s and please’s that tumble from your lips, he’s back to the first pace. right back to square one, groaning against your neck before slapping your cheeks a few times, encouraging you to keep eye contact. “yeah, what’s his name, baby? who’re you running to every time you need this cunt fucked right?”

“‘s you, dick,” you weakly nod in his grasp, gasping when he reinforces the grip around your jaw. “you fuck me so good, dick, please. god- please, dick. ‘m sorry...” dick groans and pushes your face away, as if retreating to the crook of your neck once he’s fucked the apology out of you.

“that’s right,” he emphasizes with a fake tone of realization, sloppy open-mouthed kisses littering your collarbone. you can tell he wants to mark you up, teeth grazing your skin and almost nipping at you like a puppy— and you’re closer than you’ve ever been this whole night, so it’s not slipping away again.

“‘m sorry, dick,” you whine into his ear again, long nails scratching the hair above his neck and holding on to the mess of raven black. “he won’t touch me again, promise.” you’re so desperate that you swear to him he’s the only one to make you feel like this, and the fact that it’s the truth is obvious to both of you, as sex dazed as you both are. his resolve falters when you tighten around his cock, and you figure that the low whine you draw out is a result of your words.

“mark me up,” you babble when the coil in your tummy comes back, “you can let them know. fill me up, let them know ‘m yours, dickie, please-“

and right now, dick wants nothing more than to do just that.

“shh- shit,” he groans in defeat, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass and hip. his cock twitches inside you as he huffs, “y’know I can’t- I can’t do that, doll.”

“you can-“ you cry, rolling your hips to get him impossibly deeper inside you as you moan. “‘m on the pill, dick. i want it.”

truthfully, you’re certain this is a bad idea in the long run, but in a moment of desperation and no immediate threat of your life falling apart, it doesn’t matter.

his free hand opts for covering your mouth instead of holding your jaw, muffling the temptations of your tongue to keep his sanity. needless to say, you’ve convinced him, given the pretty bruises bloom along your collarbone and chest before he could even make the conscious decision to do so. all he needed was that last bit to finally give you that blissful pleasure you’d chased for what feels like five hours.

the scene’s overwhelmingly intimate when he rides out your high with you, long and intense as you cling to his entire body. and he’s no better; he’s worse, if anything. his hand pulls you closer by the small of your back, deep moans filling your ears between words of him scolding you and that damned mouth as he fills you to the brim with his cock and cum.

“goddamn you,” he grunts, though he isn’t particularly upset. there’s plenty of questions he has now that his head is clear; most notably whether or not you two are still friends. he decides leaves it in the back of his head once he sees your lashes flutter from exhaustion, though. “do I need to pick something up?”

still dazed and out of breath, your laugh is barely audible, simply shaking your head and letting your head fall back into pillows. “I told you I’m on the pill.” he hums in realization that the fact was lost in the heat of it all, muttering a fake apology for the hickeys and going out of his way to ignore the way he leaks out of your puffy folds when he pulls out. ❧

[williamsracinggf]

✧.* blue raspberry *.✧

luna moved on from her blue raspberry too quick, leaving you and logan with bags of candy to finish

notes: hi i think im in love with dad logan like it's a disease atp

“what’s that in your hands?”

alex tilts his head, grinning logan lifts the tote bag in his hands, holding it on its straps to open up the bag. he takes a peek inside, greeted by the plethora of mixture of candies in the bag. there’s a mix of lollipops, and sour strips, but all in the same flavour: blue raspberry. which would make one wonder, as alex is now.

“candy,” logan sighs, shyly glancing at his teammate as his cheeks flush. “please take some.”

“you came to the right person!” alex beams, reaching in for candy before logan could even prompt him to take some. “but why do you have a bag full of candy?”

and just like that, his questions were answered when he hears heavy footsteps echoing in the silent hallway of the hotel followed by a screechy giggle. alex quickly shoves a handful of candy into the pocket of his jacket. “uncle alex! look what daddy bought me last night when we went shopping!”

logan shoots alex a knowing stare, nodding when points at the toddler running at him with fairy wings. alex nods understandingly and opens his arms up to receive the girl coming at him in a full sprint.

“hey, little luna!” alex cheers, spinning around when she jumps into his arms. “can i guess what daddy bought you last night?”

she nods, lips pressed together into a thin line as she shakes with excitement. “you’ll never guess — mummy couldn’t get it right last night.”

alex looks at her eyebrows raising as he thinks. he glances over at logan, gesturing at the pink headband in her hair before he returns his gaze to luna. “is it the pretty headband in your hair?”

luna gasps loudly, throwing her head back as her eyes widen. “you got it right!” she takes it off, messing up the hair that took you several minutes to do to show alex. “isn’t it pretty?”

“aw, luna,” you sigh, closing the door behind you as you step out of your hotel room. “you messed up your hair.”

luna mutters an apology, wriggling in alex’s arms as she reaches out towards where you are.

“is all of this your candy, luna?” alex asks, putting her down to her feet. he points at the candy. “you don’t like blue raspberry anymore?”

the toddler sighs heavily, slumping her shoulders as she drags her feet over to logan. “no, strawberry is my favourite. that’s mummy and daddy’s candy,” she mutters devastatingly, holding logan’s hand. “because it’s pink.”

alex hums, glancing at you with a smile. “i’ve got an idea how you can get rid of all that candy.”

you throw your head back, sighing in relief. he can’t believe his eyes when you lift another tote bag from behind you, weighed down by the sheer amount of candy inside.

“really? thank god.”

he turns back to logan, raising an eyebrow. alex reaches his hand out towards you and takes the tote bag into his hand. “you buy luna too much candy.”

“what can i say,” logan shrugs, bending down to pick up luna. “what she wants, she gets.”

alex keeps his word about knowing how to get rid of the candy, though. and it’s taken luna off from your hands too, allowing you to hang out with lily elsewhere without the screeching toddler.

they’re in the middle of a fan signing, luna sitting at the edge of the table with the tote bags filled with candy between her legs. she’s muttering something under her breath as she rummages through the bag, something about being a driver and her name along with a present.

in reality, alex had given her a script to greet the fans coming in for a meet and greet. she is the face seen before him and logan.

“hi!” luna greets a girl with a toothy smile, holding her balled fist up. “i’m the new williams driver — luna sargeant. i have a present for you.”

the girl tilts her head, raising an eyebrow as alex perks up behind luna. “she’s replacing logan for the second half of the year.”

“that’s my daughter,” logan laughs, patting the blonde’s head. “she’s giving out candy.”

“it’s blue, like williams,” luna giggles, slowly opening up her palm to present a single blue raspberry candy. it’s not that that’s all she wants to give, it’s that it’s all her hand can fit. “how many do you want?”

“can i have 2 please?”

“yes, please,” logan sighs exasperatedly, leaning his head on luna’s back. “take 5, even. we have too much candy.”

“no, daddy,” luna turns around to logan with furrowed eyebrows and pouted lips, “she said 2. not 5.”

logan raises his eyebrows, shoving a giggling alex away. “ah. sorry.”

“here you go,” luna reaches forward before abruptly waving goodbye to her. she beckons for the next group of fans forward, excitedly screeching as she gives out more candy.

her favourite part, undoubtedly, is introducing herself as her father’s replacement for the rest of the year. but she has a new favourite: getting asked for her autograph on top of her dad’s and uncle’s. it’s a very messy — and very big — ls2 written in the pink marker that logan had kept in his pocket just for her. it’s not her first time getting asked to sign something randomly.

at the end of the couple hours, logan would greet you at the hotel with a snoring luna in his arms, body limp as she drools on his shoulder. which, you very much appreciate that she is in a deep sleep, seeing that it is nearing her nap time.

it’s always been one of your hardest struggles to get luna to take a nap. especially when you’re out in another country when the timing has her disoriented with the hours.

she’s also been one to insist that she’s awake, yet falling asleep at dinner in a restaurant with food still in her mouth. she’s a character that seems to be very out of place when put between you and logan.

“did you see our team instagram?” alex giggles in a whisper as you take the girl into your arms. “she was a fan favourite.”

“i’d imagine. she’s always been quite the opposite of logan and i,” you laugh as logan very slowly (and carefully) moves her over to you.

logan nods in agreement. “she made many friends today.”

it’s always been a wonder how extroverted luna has gotten over the years, especially when you trace it back to how you and logan typically are. you’re more the quiet and silent type — even relying on oscar and his friends to talk to one another for you just to set up a date.

but luna’s very excited and very loud. and friendly. too friendly to the point that sometimes she watches the race from the other team’s garages. once even sitting on susie wolff’s lap the entirety of a race (and also having susie carry her back to the williams racing home when she’d fallen asleep after the race ended). she has also certainly gotten along well with jack wolff, who is always sighted with her in weird corners of the paddocks with their toys laid out on the ground.

“oh, mummy,” luna mumbles, her eyes struggling to open as she tries to look around. she giggles lazily as her eyes flutter close. “i fell off the table.”

“what?” you furrow your eyebrows as you try to meet the 2 men’s guilty eyes. “what does she mean by she fell off the table?”

alex looks around, scratching his neck as he looks away from you. which leaves logan, who was trying the same tactic as the thai, sighing as you dart your hand out to hit his shoulder for an explanation.

it’s never out of the question that luna fell off that table by herself. there are several times where you and logan turned away for a split second to grab something and suddenly luna’s missing from the spot you last saw her. many of those times, she’s put herself in great danger.

at this point, it’s just luna.

“she uh,” logan smiles sheepishly, “giggled too hard and rolled off the table.”

you sigh with a small smile and shake your head. “yeah, that’s believable.”

the next morning, luna walks ahead with the familiar tote bag of candy loosely hung over her shoulder. her first victim is toto, who was simply strolling about the paddocks, on his way to probably a meeting with his team.

but her voice was demanding when she called for the mercedes team principal, giggling when she was greeted by toto with a smile. unfortunately for both of you, jack wolff has been a frequent playmate in the paddocks. so luna is more than acquainted with the toto wolff.

toto simply shakes his head and laughs when logan starts his string of apologies for the sudden intrusion. if there is anyone else who understands the sheer will of toddlers, it would be him. she offers him a handful of candy, this time with you taking over the bag so she can use both her hands to give them out, and toto promises that he will give jack some of his shares.

which sent luna into a frenzy once toto started walking away, running after him with another handful of candy, crying that this one is for jack and jack only. the initial share that he got can be halved between him and susie, if needed.

her next victim wound up being fernando, the aston martin driver willingly taking the handful of candy handed to him with a grin. luna simply waves him goodbye, without forgetting to tell him that uncle lance should also be getting a good couple of candies from what she gave to him.

their third and final victim is max, found loitering outside the williams racing home after having a chat with uncle alex. he greets luna excitedly, opening his arms up for a willing hug and brushing her hair. the toddler didn’t say much, just handed him a handful of candy as she gawks up at him before running off to where alex was holding the door open for your family.

you raise an eyebrow, trying to call for luna again to speak to max properly. the blonde simply shakes her head as she hid behind alex’s legs, then promptly ran towards the stairs to head to logan’s driver’s room.

“i’m sorry. she’s not usually like that,” you apologise, pushing logan away to chase after the girl that’s suddenly far out of reach as she runs deeper into the racing home. “it’s unlike her to get shy so quick.”

max laughs, waving away your concerns. he also knows a thing or two about shy toddlers. “it’s not a problem. i don’t really see her often, anyway.”

after you bid him goodbye, you pad along into the racing home in concern. you find the trio by the couch, alex laughing while logan tried to calm the crying 4-year-old. you can hear luna’s sobs as she clutches onto logan’s sweatshirt, chest heaving as her cries silent the room.

“oh, lulu, what’s wrong?” you coo, heart melting at the sight.

“we found out why she ran away from max.” alex meets your eyes before bursting into another fit of giggles, holding a pillow to his face to muffle the evidence of how much he is enjoying all of this.

logan hits alex’s knee, the older driver simply shrugging guiltily before hushing his giggles.

“lulu, what happened?” you hum, taking the empty spot on the couch next to alex. you lean towards logan and rub circles over her back. “you wanna tell mummy what happened?”

“i already told daddy what happened.”

“alright,” you nod, sitting back on the couch. you glance at logan, brushing his fingers through luna’s hair as he sits on the ground. he nods at you reassuringly as luna continues to cry into his shoulder.

luna isn’t typically a crier, so you wonder what it could be.

logan laughs, spilling into the driver’s room with alex behind him.

“aw, you’ll never believe what logan did at the fan zone,” alex laughs, as he spots you. “he gave out all the candy, so that’s the one good thing that happened.”

“one?” logan cries, shutting the door behind him. “you mean the only good thing that happened.”

“what did you do?” you sigh, shaking your head as they come in and crash on separate couches.

logan approaches you, slinging his arm lazily around your shoulder as he presses a kiss on your cheeks. “i hit someone in the head with a lollipop.”

“you what?” you scream, flinching back. “i told you to give away the candy — not give someone a concussion with it!”

logan laughs sheepishly, sucking in a breath as a memory of the incident flashes in his head. alex speaks up first: “in logan’s defense, it was a simply bad throw. instead of tossing it up, like normal people typically would, he threw it forward. with vengeance.”

you turn your head in concern to sigh at logan with disappointment. he simply shrugs. “he got a bag of free signed merch and candy for that. like… it’s kinda okay.”

“he did not think it was okay, for the record,” alex points out. “he panicked for like 10 minutes before the marketing and pr team figured out what to do.”

“he looked angry,” logan mutters. “you know i can’t fight.”

“it’s alright,” you pat his knee with your lips pressed into a thin line, “the important thing is that we finally got rid of all that blue raspberry candy.” you throw your head back. “finally. after 2 weeks.”

logan looks around the room, only then noticing the eerily silence of his room. “hey, where’s luna?”

“ah, george has taken the liberty of babysitting again,” you hum with a proud nod. “i got a really good 2-hour nap in.”

“does that mean you’ll stay up with her, love?” logan turns to you with a hopeful smile, dropping immediately when you slowly turn your head with a scowl. “no, yeah, i like staying up with luna. for sure. i like bluey.”

alex points at you with a sly smile. “walk him like a dog, sis.”

you scrunch your nose with a giggle. “i know, thank you.”

there’s a soft knock on the door, followed by the rattling of the doorknob. you can hear george and luna bantering at the other side of the door.

“lulu, you can’t just try and open the door when they haven’t answered.”

“they’re taking too long to answer. i know they’re inside — i heard mummy.”

“but you knocked. you’re supposed to wait for them to let you in.”

“but they’re–“ you hear luna sigh. “okay.”

she knocks again, this time slightly rougher than before as the sound echoes in your room. “mummy! let me in please! uncle george is being mean to me!”

“what? no, i wasn’t!”

logan laughs, pulling the door open. “lulu!”

“daddy!” luna shrieks, throwing herself onto logan’s legs. she peeks past logan’s legs and grins at you. “mummy! you’re here! i’m hungry.”

you nod. “i’ve got your snack here,” you pat logan’s backpack. “did you have fun with uncle george?”

you watch luna slowly thread over to you, glancing over her shoulder at george with a side eye. “at first.”

george gasps, looking over at alex with a hand over his chest. “can you believe this kid?”

“yes, actually,” alex says, looking up at his best friend dead in the eye. “she’s saying all the things i don’t dare to say to you because you’re my friend.”

luna turns around again, eyebrows furrowed. “i gave away candy today, you know.”

george narrows his eyes into a glare. “i heard. i didn’t get any.”

she simply shrugs, hopping over to you as she climbs on your lap for snack time. “i know.”

“so, why did luna cry this afternoon?” you hum, crawling into bed as logan opens his arms out for you. you drop yourself on his body as he wraps his arms around you. “was it serious?”

logan begins to laugh before he can even fully explain to you what had happened. you had to smack him on the chest to quiet him down, afraid that you’d wake up the sleeping 4-year-old sleeping in the other bed.

“what is so funny?” you lift your head to glare at him, lips pouted out.

logan grins, lifting his hand to pinch your cheek. “you look just like luna, love.”

“i’m gonna be a lot like her if you don’t tell me why my baby cried.”

“okay, okay,” logan laughs, reeling you in again to let you lie on his chest. “she thinks max is cute.”

you guess the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. your lips stretch into a small smile, slowly turning to logan. “she takes after her mother, i guess.”

“hey! that’s not nice!” logan whispers, squishing your cheeks. he wraps his arm around your shoulders and holds you tight. “you’re married to me, remember? you can’t have max.”

“oh, i’m just supporting luna,” you giggle, covering your mouth as you watch logan grow frustrated. “can’t let my girl have a crush all by herself.”

@cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @mclarengf

[mystiffox]

— the apple's falling from the tree

from Cross: The Star Sans by @overflowofcrows

star!cross makes me incredibly ill with the tragic found family vibes ... (lays on the floor)

also have some doodles too (slight spoilers on the fic's lore below! to explain some of my thoughts on clothes n stuff)

does Cross have a star necklace in the fic? no, probably not. did i show off about my thoughts on a star necklace to Simple anyway? yes, yes i did. anyway idc where u think the necklace is from (whether its a gift from dream or a remold of his broken heart necklace, who knows atp) now ONTO THE GANG (+ Error and Fresh)

to preface this: im mostly assuming for most of the lore beyond the crumbs given to me. so, i'd imagine that when the fight ended with the gang losing, Dream and Ink immediately jailed them up. they both seem keen on keeping the gang alive, so they probably would've tried to help them with anything to make sure of it- that is, if any of the gang would even accept it in the first place.

i'm making a small guess that if there were any wounds, they used what they had to take care of it, aka ripping out parts of their own clothing to use as makeshift bandages. dream might've gave them some supplies (out of pity.. or something) but whether that was not enough or not used, i won't know

even if it was enough, there's still the factor of inevitable outburst/breakdowns from any of the prisoners. i'd imagine it'd be so hard to calm any of them down because the gang were too used to being close together that using touch became the usual grounding method— so putting a barrier between them makes it infintely harder for everyone.

i think Nightmare doesn't use his jacket anymore. it probably feels like shit/too itchy and ragged to wear and reminds him of a past he wishes he could forget. (he must feel so helpless seeing all his boys suffer after taking care of them for so long... like a lost father trying his best and seeing how much he's failing at the same time.. man.)

Dust is almost always wrapped in a blanket, the hoodie completely zipped up as if he was trying to hide in it, keeping himself as small as possible (knowing his own breakdowns are the biggest And loudest)

Horror is probably yanked back to the memories of when he was back in his home au, quietly starving and losing all the progress he had with the gang.. trying to press himself against the barriers in hopes that maybe he can feel the others on the other side of it.. (one of his outbursts would be why he ripped off the sleeves of his jacket id assume)

Killer too.. unable to get to anyone and just. with his soul going haywire sometimes, having no available output that he's forced to ride it out on his own And in front of everyone.. yeah, you get the gist for those three

Error's a mess of threads- picks at his clothes and sews em back up, just to have a reason to move his hands. he's not too worried i'd say- it's a little reminiscent of the antivoid, and he's experienced insanity already (not to say it doesn't tug at his own soul-strings to see it happen to everyone else)

Fresh might be the "cleanest" out of everyone, with barely any visible tears, but i have a good feeling his body language is different. maybe the cap is now worn correctly. maybe he took off his jacket. he's tense. his guard is up. because a parasite would never want to be locked up in one place, right?

god.

God.

they make me so sick (message is mine btw)

[winwintea]

nct vs haunted house (who you picking to go with you?)

pairing ↬ ot25 nct (127, dream, wayv, wish)

tags ↬ cussing, i roast everyone (sorry not sorry)

author’s note ↬ very lax and lazy shitpost. can y'all pretend like i posted this before november 1st to spare me the embarrassment and shame, thanks. also in no apparent order so you might have to dig for your member. this is the first time i've posted for all the members... also only seen the wayv and dream haunted house videos so it might not be fully accurate.

sakuya

nah why the hell would you pick him. this shit is gonna make a bolt for it and leave you alone inside to defend for yourself. if it's a haunted house walkthrough, he's gonna speedrun it and save himself, not you. if it's a horror escape room he's probably gonna get jumpscared, but will distract himself by laughing at you. NOT HELPFUL AT ALL, somehow manages to break everything. (0/10 partner, made me cry afterwards. this is why i hate children /j)

winwin

you've got like a 50/50 chance of surviving this thing. winwin's scared out of his wits when it comes to haunted houses, but in an actual stressful situation he thinks very logically. given the right circumstance, he doesn't make dumb choices, and can actually progress through the haunted house fairly easy. his only flaw is that when he gets jumpscared he has extreme reactions and always is on the floor. (6/10 partner, just make sure he isn't pulling you to the ground as well.)

haechan

no sane person would pick him, are you okay? i mean he's kinda unpredictable. either cackling and laughing his ass off or sobbing or straight faced the whole time. when he's scared he demands to be carried, like tf? thought you were supposed to protect me. whatever. actually kinda smart and helpful though like if you're lucky you two can get out just fine. (7/10 partner, because at least he isn't gonna leave you alone to die, you'll die together.)

doyoung

get ready for snarky comments on everything, "i wonder if these people are getting paid minimun wage." or "whoever designed this place needs to go to jail why is everything so ugly looking." he's a NERVOUS WRECK though. starts yapping when he's scared. telling the scare actors to "wait pls" (they won't love you like i love you) they don't listen to him though... very tense, movements are stiff, he has like a 25% chance of actually being helpful. (2.5/10 partner, someone tell him to move faster.)

jaehyun

you picked the nonchalant king himself! he'd probably be a bit scared, maybe a few jerks or flinches from the jumpscares, but nothing too bad. probably laughs at the actors or at the situation, but it's not a mocking laugh. very helpful and you'll definitely make it out of there alive! if you're easily scared no worries! he'll be fine carrying you if he has to. give yourself a pat on the back, you picked well. (10/10 partner i have no complaints)

jisung

someone save this poor baby and you because you two are also not making it out alive today. not very loud screams, but oh my god he clutches his chest and bucks his knees like he's heard the worst news of his life. 15,000 mental breakdowns in the span of a minute. asks random obvious questions and is curious about everything. he's too lost in his own head and thoughts to be really helpful, plus he's too scared to try anything so you really aren't progressing further unless you lock in. (2/10 partner, i love you ji but i gotta survive)

riku

honey idk who lied to you but riku is not brave at all. another stumbler, he's tripping all over the place, sometimes you wonder whether it's on purpose or not. no cause this man spends more time on the floor then actually on his feet. when he's collected himself and believes that there's no reason to be scaried he's gonna aegyo his ass off. which doesn't work lol. might as well use him as a meat shield atp. (3/10 partner, good meat shield /j)

yushi

also a 50/50. very very very helpful and knowledgeable when it comes to solving clues and mysteries. but when it comes to progressing forward and interacting with the scare actors he's not in his element. asks "who's there" as if anyone would answer. also in denial half of the time, "oh it's not that sc- AHJH SHHHH-" runs around and clings to something, probably your arm. (7/10 partner, just the two of us, we can make it if we try! )

hendery

i asked to survive not a distraction for my fears and worries. why is bro singing???? we're supposed to be working and solving the puzzles, no more distractions pls!! he's going to terrorize you just because it's funny, but i'm in a haunted house NOT A COMEDY CLUB. when it comes to solving clues he cooks dogshit!! nobody let him back into a haunted house thanks! (0/10 partner, i need the scare actor to mercy kill me atp)

chenle

why. you know better than to pick him. 100% will scream as loud as he can and sacrifice you in -119 seconds. laughing mess. he's like sakuya and will leave you to fend for yourself. he dngaf. will also terrorize you because it's "funny". unless it's a competition he will not help you at all and pretends like he's helping but he's not doing anything except goofing around. try again. (-143/100 partner, except he doesn't love you like in the skz song)

johnny

you make it out of there purely off of johnny’s dumbass luck. i’m serious. as soon as he’s jump-scared he puts his hands up and turns around like “helll naahhhh” and then he starts scolding the scare actor like he’s their dad ???? or something ?? why the fuck did this turn into a big ass therapy session about how the scare actor could turn their life around and use their talents for something more rewarding in life? (9/10 partner, you only make it out of there because the scare actor tearfully tells you the answers to all the clues and promises johnny he’ll work on bettering himself.)

kun

if you thought his leader mode self would activate you are wrong. completely wrong. first of all he TRIES to act calm and mature, but fails miserably. also he forces you to do everything, go first, because bro is ACTUALLY A COWARD ISTG. at least he's pretty decent at solving problems, but when he gets jump-scared he's too terrified to function, like if was by himself he would get himself killed. (-4/10 partner, i asked for a good partner not a manchild)

yuta

going with the other non-chalant king is also a fairly good choice! except he's even more unbothered and unfazed than jaehyun, you're wondering if you should be more scared of him than the actors. feel bad for the actors though like they get a kick out of scaring people and he's just like "heh. that's funny" not very helpful with puzzles though so you might have to do that yourself! (8/10 partner, you'll probably survive, but you'll do most of the work unfortunately.)

renjun

i think the only other person you could pick that's worse than him on this list is taeyong. CONSTANTLY CLINGING TO YOUR ARM. savagely trying to crack jokes but is scared out of his wits for sure. he's okay with solving clues, renjun is smart, just don't pressure or tease him or he might actually snap. honestly just don't pick renjun to be your partner. (-127/10 partner, why are we still here? just to suffer?)

taeyong

you are 100 percent getting killed today !! congratulations !! or maybe you wanted that? poor bubu was not cut out for this line of work okay. he screams the loudest screams you've ever heard, does not function normally after the first scare. you could've picked anyone else and maybe you would've had a 99.99% chance of dying instead of 100. (-553/10 partner, PICK BETTER PLEASE. i'm so fucking mad /hj)

ten

he's a runner he's a track star !! he's literally a cat. what else did you expect? him to not be a scaredy cat? when u call him out for being unhelpful or too scared he'll gaslight tf out of you. he'll also deflect and start saying everything you're doing wrong as if you aren't the ONLY PERSON DOING ANYTHING AT ALL?? “stop pushing me” EXCUSE ME? YOU PUSHED ME? makes me so mad, but at least he sometimes is helpful i guess. (-40/10 partner, you should know better than to pick him.)

sion

better than kun maybe on par with winwin i'd say. his leader mode is definitely more active here, also tries to play up and be brave, gets scared very easily but it's okay. he reacts quickly and that's honestly all that matters in a haunted house bc if you can get out of that inital shock and think logically about the situation you can survive about anything. very good with puzzles i don't think he's a bad option! (8/10 partner, jaehyun maybe enlisting in a couple of days but at least we have sion)

jeno

might be the one of the best options out of all of these clowns. but again nct is a circus and they are so unpredictable. i would feel safe with jeno though. he's suspiciously quiet, and not very reactive when it comes to the scares. very smart too like he solves the puzzles in seconds too. take jeno with you and you are LIVING TO SEE THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL! (12/10 partner, very satisfied would recommend. )

xiaojun

you picking xiaojun is like whoever tf seulgi is singing to that knows 28 reasons to run away but chooses to depend on her anyways. LIKE CMON. xiaojun definitely scares himself. also he's really loud in general like you need something to shut him up with. bad at puzzles, okay with scares, idk if you're gonna survive broski. (2/10 partner, maybe xiaojun has dumb luck and you'll survive, who knows.)

ryo

way more mature than sakuya, i'm convinced you will actually survive! this little maltese is very brave and will definitely go first if you're too scared. also willing to throw hands but let's talk about that later you will make it out of there in decent time, and not struggle that much. may get a little bit scared, but he regains his courage very easily! (10/10 partner, guys i love ryo a lot. he's literally my child.)

jaemin

yes jaemin is a good pick, he’s not that phased by scare actors and will even try to talk to some of them about their day. spreads positivity but will probably mock you for being too scared if you get scared by the jump-scares. if you can deal with that you should be fine. he’s not as good as jeno is with the puzzles but can hold his own weight fairly well. “can we go again?” absolutely not. (8/10 partner, would’ve been higher but for that last comment he’s getting marked down a couple of points.)

jungwoo

just because this man isn’t vocal when he’s scared does not mean he isn’t shitting himself right now. instead of screaming, he opts to stumble and fall instead. any little noise will make him jump, even if it’s caused by himself. closes his eyes because “i can’t get scared if i can’t see them!” he was incorrect. jungwoo can in fact get scared if he can’t see them. (0/10 partner, no negatives for jungwoo but you probably won’t survive.)

mark

best option in my opinion. the only leader who calms down the fastest and reacts the best. i mean he deals with haechan and chenle on a daily basis so he has some practice. all his years of testing his patience has prepared him for this moment. deep inside he’s paranoid as hell, but that really doesn’t distract him from getting you two out of there as quickly as he can. extremely motivated and works hard to solve the puzzles. (17/10 partner, much better than his egg making abilities!)

jaehee

he thought it was going to be fun. it was not. “this was NOT a good idea. oh MY GOd-“ pointing to every little thing, “did you see that”. okay but his prediction game is kinda on point though. thanks to his paranoia he manages to predict all the jumpscares. so eventually you two come up with a plan to scare the actors themselves which actually works surprisingly, and lessens your worries about the whole thing. maybe it was fun after all. (8/10 partner, you got banned from coming back though)

yangyang

now most of y’all might think that yy will whine and scream and cry in a haunted house. and, you’re not wrong! but in terms of the pussy-ness scale against the rest of these clowns, yangyang is actually pretty good at this. he’ll flinch, react, scream, and run away, but he takes the lead. willingly to go first, even if he himself is shaking in his thousand dollar shoes the entire time. good at puzzles too! (7/10 partner, so good so bad like whatever zb1 said!)

perm taglist ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct

[powderblueblood]

the king of hawkins high

hawkins, indiana. 1960-somethin'. al munson reckons with the reality of his brother being shipped off to vietnam, and carries on a years-long tradition of swapping a ring with his best friend, ray doevski. which could mean nothing. cw: swearing, mention of criminal activities, era-typical misogyny and implied homophobia, guys is it gay to wipe motor oil from your homie's face when they've possibly just set a heinous crime in motion, murder but kind of not really. i didnt proofread this i am really just running on the fumes of vibes atp wc: 6.1k. what goes on. tagging @slowdancer, without whose continued interest in the old man yaoi aspect of hellfire & ice, this would not be possible. i appreciate you more than you know part of the hellfire & ice universe

He comes to with his head against the tile. 

Comes to as in wakes up or comes into jettisoned back to sobriety by the force of his own piss stream, he’s not sure, but he is here and he’s awake. 

With his dick in his hand. 

Al’s mouth feels like a fucking shag carpet. Every bud on his tongue has grown its own ecosystem after the amount of beer and whiskey and tobacco and ketchup and mustard and sugar and salt and smoke and someone else’s spit he’s let populate there. 

It’s been a long… however long it’s been, cooped up in this clubhouse on the outskirts of town. 

Undesirable types like to hole up here and pretend it’s a bar, but it functions more as a halfway hovel. Some genius calls it the Hideout. 

Al just about keeps himself steady as he shakes the last drop out (more’n three and you’re playin’ with yourself), zipping his pants back up with a hop that he instantly regrets. A knife slices right through his temporal lobe. 

The tubular bells have begun to ring and remorse starts to churn in his stomach. 

Time’s up, party’s over, away we go home.

Staggering back out into the front bar, Al catches a fond sight–a shapely, tanned rump lying bare across the pool table. Given that he’s missing a shirt, he figures he must have been splayed underneath that body before nature had called. 

God given miracle he’d made it to the bathroom in whatever state he was in.

One of Al’s hands reaches out and caresses a perky, round cheek, giving it a squeeze. A grumble from the mouth it belongs to, buried under a mass of blonde curls. 

“Kar-ennn,” he sing-songs, voice sputtering like a fuckin’ chainsaw, “It’s after ten.” 

“Mmnff.”

“On a Sunday.” He bends, bringing his mouth to the peachy mound. Teeth sink in. “You’re gonna be late for–”

“--church!” yelps the blonde, darting up and rolling over in this mad scramble to get her frilly old halter dress back on her body. “Shit! Shit-shit-shit!”

“Oh, slow down,” Al says, his brain moving a little slurrier than he’d anticipated–which is to say, he’s still polluted. He cages his arms around Karen where she’s sitting, leaning his perspiring forehead into her chest which stills her in an instant. “God ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“Yes, but my mother is,” she grabs him by the ears, yanking him to her eyeline–woof, way too much movement, “gonna kill me.”

“Proposal,” Al mumbles, leaning for her mouth but landing on her neck, “I tell your mama that we’re gettin’ married. Tell her the next time you enter the house of God it’s ‘cause you’re gonna make an honest woman outta me.” 

“Al,” Karen sighs, shoving him off and dismounting the pool table. This bouncy blonde, this head cheerleader apple pie type… Al had her nailed the moment he walked into her homeroom that first day at Hawkins High. Stacked to the ceiling, her gorgeous baby blues stuck on him like a fly trap. 

He hadn’t expected to stumble across a babe like her in this glorified cornfield of a town. 

“You’re very cute, and you’re a lotta fun. I mean, we have,” she shuffles in her little skirt; so cute, scandalized by herself by the light of day, “a lot of fun, but no matter how many times you ask, there’s no way I’m marrying you just so you can avoid shipping out.” 

He adopts a slump. “But what if I said I loved ya?”

“You’d be lying!” Karen cries, a phosphate giggle. She manages to find that letterman jacket she came in here wearing and slides it over her shoulders. Lobs a guilty look over her shoulder at Al.

Like he’s supposed to share in some reverent moment of shame, like he should feel bad that he’s giving her what that Wheeler meathead can’t. 

Guy’s graduated and still insists that she wears his letterman jacket. It’s sad. 

“Look, are you coming to that Gomes chick’s party, at least?” 

“Gomes? Gloriana Gomes?” Karen’s gone all incredulous on him. “Al, I’m going to have to try and sneak past my mother after being out here all night–you really think I’m going to risk my neck going to some greaser cookout?” 

“Tell them you’re goin’ to Bible study. Repenting and all that.”

Her mussed curls shudder as she shakes her head, heading for the door with her tennis shoes in her hand. “See you at school. Last week of senior year!” 

—

To Al’s shock and delight, someone’s been paying the phone bill at the Hideout–he wonders what kind of bootlegging operation necessitates a phone line, but he’s thankful for it all the same. Lets him punch in one of the only numbers he knows in this shitheel town and bark, “Bring the Caddy ‘round, Jeeves!”

Forty minutes, his found shirt and a flat beer later, a battered, rusted truck kicks up dust outside of the Hideout. 

“Thought you were dead,” a clipped voice echoes out the driver’s side. 

Al takes his time ambling over. He reaches through the driver’s window and chucks Ray Doevksi’s chin with his ringed hand. 

“Wished I was, more like.”

The greased slick of Ray’s pompadour catches an offensive amount of light, and Al’s got to shield his eyes. He throws himself into the passenger side and lets Ray size him up with customary disapproval.

“Christ, you smell like Corn Nuts and pussy.”

“Take a big whiff, Doevski!” Al rifles through the glove compartment before Ray shoves a soft pack of cigarettes at him. “Might be the last one you get for a while, seeing as you’re liable to strike out tonight.” 

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because you’re sniffin’ after a girl whose big brothers are known Hawkins heavies,” Al scoffs back a mouthful of smoke, more to curb the ever-present craving than anything else. “You don’t got the stones to see a thing like that through.”

He catches Ray’s sidelong glance at him, the line of his hardened jaw with the shiny fucking hair on top. A dollop of oily black, showing up starkly against his pristine white t-shirt. Ray is crisp and calculated-looking, without the starched strangulation of looking like some prep. Ray looks like they peeled Jimmy Dean off the blacktop and reinflated him, gave him a Presley dye-job. 

Brought him back wrong. 

See, Ray Doevski, Al’s best friend, he looks like the sensitive type but he’s all mean streak. 

Al, ever the other boy’s foil, looks like exactly what he is. A hick with a perpetual hard-on and a mouth too smart for his brain to catch up with. Luckily, Al sucked up all the charm in his gene pool; Hawkins has been a cakewalk ever since his folks moved him and his sullen older brother down here from the good ol’ hills of Appalachia. 

In fact, Ray was the first person to step to him about that. Make some crack about they got running water up there yet? Or y’all still bathin’ in pig spittle? 

‘We haven’t quite gotten to experience the spoils of modern plumbing, but your mama was kind enough to let me wash off after I balled her into oblivion.’

Up went the scuffle, and they were immediate friends after the fisticuffs were thrown. 

Since then, Ray’s led Al into the underbelly. The doper contingent that Ray’s foster family has connections to, the bikers trafficking shit through places like the Hideout. The only exciting thing about a town like Hawkins is how many secrets it can hold, and there’s not a whole lot, but enough to keep them entertained for now. 

Ray has designs on fleeing to business school after they graduate. 

The only designs Al has on are his boxer briefs. 

Speaking of, he scratches his crotch. 

“Don’t get crabs on my passenger seat,” Ray monotonously scolds him.

“This passenger seat’s a ward of the state,” Al grumbles. Translation: he knows this truck is stolen. 

“Am I driving you home, then? Is your tail sufficiently tucked between your legs yet?” 

Al hates when Ray acts like he’s his own personal O. Henry story, reading him down to the last punctuation. 

See, his last three lost days on the tear with Hawkins’ grimiest and all their passers-through had been the result of some family problems. Well, not problems. Consequences. Of living as a part of the greatest country in the world. 

Al’s brother Wayne had been drafted. Ticket up, number called. Death certificate as good as signed. 

You’re next, boy, Al’s father had said, If they can find any goddamn use for ya.

 “I’m conscientiously objecting to the whole thing.”

“Shit. Didn’t know you had one of those.”

“Just trying it on for size. I can still return it for store credit.”

The rubber on Ray’s tyres squeal onto Philadelphia, stopping dead outside of the Munson household. Clapboard. Best they could do on short notice–needs a lick of paint that no one got around to sticking their tongue out for. But it’s home. 

It always will be. Al understands that might be why his heart feels like it’s sinking. 

He feels Ray watching him as he stares out the passenger side. A dry swallow. 

He doesn’t want to go back in there. He toys with the idea of telling Ray to hit it again, to keep driving til the wheels come off this thing, so he can stay unmoored and un-privy to the disappointment dripping down the walls of that house. Those stains don’t lift. 

They never will.

“Pick me up at eight, sugar?” Al snaps back into character, simpering with Donna Reed sweetness at Ray. He rolls his eyes under long-lashed lids. 

“If you survive ‘til then.” 

A heave to the rustbucket of a door and Al’s hopping out of the truck. 

“Al,” Ray calls, gunning the engine back to life. “If I make it with Gloriana Gomes tonight…”

“Mighty girthy if.”

“... that calls for a changing of hands.” Ray gestures to the rock on Al’s finger. The Hawkins High class ring, the big brass bastard with its imitation emerald. Green and gold, the colors of their proud and mighty cowpat of a school. It had been Ray’s originally, seeing as how Al had all but dropped out at this point. But there were few things Ray had that Al didn’t want, and vice versa. 

Balls. Charisma. Something big and ugly and shiny. 

Something to be proud of. 

So one day Al goes, ‘Bet your ring I can’t aim this stink bomb clear through O’Donnell’s classroom window,’ continuing his habit of torturing the newest faculty member. Ray’d said sure, because Al’s aim was reliably shitty– except for that day. Bullseye. Screaming. 

Ray had reluctantly handed over the ring. 

Then, at the derelict drive-in where they’d watched On the Waterfront together, Ray’d said, ‘Bet your ring I can’t shake down the candy shack for whatever’s in the register.’ 

A made-up kid-choking emergency and fifty-odd dollars later, Al was handing the ring back.

It went on like that, the bets increasing in risk and moral soundness. The ring bearer was dubbed the King of Hawkins High, a stab at the squares that actually gave a shit. Al lived for it. Not because Ray was easy to best, he wasn’t. One really had to get creative, or not be afraid to be hauled in by the heat. Ray was a worthy adversary. 

Made Al feel like he could accomplish things. 

“That’s a little tame, don’t you think?” Al says. The stakes had crawled up a little higher than balling some chick, no matter how white hot her family supposedly was. Unless, this is Ray really trying to prove something.

The Gomes brothers were the number one name in town for racketeering, gun thuggery, speed distribution… you name it, they had dominion over it. 

If he won over their princess Gloriana, eased into their good books… that’s the making of a man. Al knows that. 

Ray knows Al knows that, leveling him with a steel-edged stare over his sunglasses. 

“See you at eight, sugar.”

—

The Munson household is dark and quiet, thank Christ, allowing Al to slink into the bedroom he shares with his elder brother and catch some well-earned hungover shuteye. 

Sleep sinks him quick, his exhausted, wrung out form hitting the mattress without so much as kicking his boots off. His dreams are vivid and vague, parched and sweaty, indecisive and arresting as they always are after a sleepless bender. In the one he can recall the best, he sits behind a cartoonishly large wheel of a cartoonishly small van. He’s driving around labyrinthian turns, around a trailer park that he vaguely recognises from the outskirts of town. 

Gravel crunches underneath, sounding like bones cracking. Grinding teeth. 

He wants to get out, but he can’t find the lot that he’s looking for. Someone’s yelling at him from outside the vehicle; and he can’t exactly turn his head to see, but he’s vaguely aware of a baby girl lying in the passenger seat beside him. She’s crying and he’s hushing, promising that they’re almost there. 

It’ll all be okay, honey bear! Al’s gonna fix it.

The window of the van is slung low, and hailstones begin to rain in on him and the baby, pelting him in the forehead–

Takes him a minute or two to come to. Wayne stands, a shadowy figure in the doorway with a handful of peanut shells. 

“Dinner,” the elder Munson grumbles. 

“I’m comin’! Jesus!” Al whines.

“No, this is your dinner,” Wayne keeps tossing the shells. “You wanna run off and join the circus, you better get used to circus food.”

“I’d sooner crawl inside of a lion’s asshole than bend over and take it up the chute for Uncle Sam, I’ll tell you that,” kid brother grumbles into his flat, yellowing pillow. 

“Real nice, Allen.”

“You know what,” Al, annoyed now, rustles up in bed, furiously blinking his bleary eyes at Wayne, “When did you go and get so fuckin’ patriotic anyway? Far as I know, your greatest contribution to society was teaching me how to boost a car on my sixteenth birthday.”

Wayne scoffs, tossing the last of the shells onto the floor. “Yeah, and a fat lotta good it did. Still got that… Doohickey pansy chauffeurin’ you around, huh?”

“Christ, you really fell out the sad bastard tree and hit every branch on the way down, huh? Just ‘cause you ain’t got no friends, man–”

“Allen.”

“--doesn’t mean you need to go buzz your head and get a rifle about it, I mean, my god–”

“Al.”

“I think it’s really pathetic, y’know, real pathetic that you’re gonna go play stooge for a system that wouldn’t piss on folks like you or me or Ma or Pa if we was on fire–” 

As if Al really gave a damn about the system.

“Al, you’re gonna have to grow up pretty soon. You know that, don’t you?”

That plugs him up fast. Al’s vision has unbleary’ed itself. A cold jolt arcs through him, one he tries to scoff away. Wayne always does this, drags out the stoic shit because he knows it’s a surefire conversation ender. He’s so solid that way, this living full stop Al has to call a brother. His way or the highway. His way or the chopper. 

Wayne was always telling Al no, always telling Al do this and do that and take the fall, they won’t care, you’re the youngest, they’ll go easy on you and watched as their father snatched a knot into Al’s head that a navy man couldn’t untie.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

Wayne leans a little heavier on the doorframe. Al can see paint chips loosening where his shoulder presses. 

“Means I gotta go and do this because Ma and Pa won’t be able to survive if I don’t. Not if they got you leechin’ off ‘em still. Which, signs point to,” Wayne gestures to their shared bedroom. A harsh split down the middle; Al’s side is a ragged explosion of dirty socks, underwear, records, comics, cigarette butts. Wayne’s side is so orderly, Al bets he could bounce a quarter off the bed. 

Like he’d been waiting to ship out his whole life. 

“I’m warnin’ you, boy,” Wayne’s tone darkens. Al wishes it didn’t make him flinch on instinct, but it does. “You better clean up your act. Get some kinda life together. Otherwise, you’re gonna end up in prison before your ticket’s even drawn.”

He lets it simmer for a minute, drawing out the silence that he’d usually feel like he has to fill. It’s so muggy, it has been muggy, this quiet between them since Wayne decided he was the kind of person that wanted to do the right thing. Do what he’s told, more like. 

Another knot of a different kind tightens in Al’s sternum. Fear. He doesn’t look at Wayne because to look at him, he would know. Wayne would see it in Al’s face, and Al would see it in Wayne’s. They’re terrified, the both of them. 

Munsons are no heroes. They don’t pull out of things like this. 

Even if Wayne uses all the right moves, likelihood is he catches a stray bullet or blowback from a bomb and goes down. Stupid for him to think anything else would happen. 

Every time Al looks at him, he knows it might be one of the last.

Then again, what else has Wayne got? He wasn’t happy about being dragged by the ear from Appalachia to Indiana. He couldn’t shake the stubbornness to make friends in town. Left school before he even broke tenth grade. He couldn’t hold down a job for nothin’-- Hawkins decided they didn’t like the smell of hick shit that the Munsons were dragging through the place. Their father was barely hanging onto the gig he’d moved them here for, drinking what little he did make. Their mother was catatonic most of the time, drinking twice as much as their father did. 

Wayne is floundering, if not practically dead in Lover’s Lake already. 

Might as well die someplace tropical. 

But where does that leave Al? Al, the spitfire kid who needs Wayne to anchor him so he doesn’t spin completely out of control. He gets this notion of speed, thinks he’s capable of beating God at his own game–not in small part spurned on by Ray Doevski. Gasoline, matches. He needs Wayne, needs his big brother to remind him that the ground below him is hard, not soft. What goes up must come down, and all that shit. 

So, how dare he. 

How dare he choose Vietnam over Al. 

“Well, brother mine,” Al says in a tone smooth as silk, rolling onto his back and stretching his wiry arms up like a languid cat. Smug beats stoic. “Just so happens that army green ain’t really my color. I’ll take my chances.”

—

Hastily scrubbed and half a shoulder of stolen bourbon deep, Al kicks rocks in his shoddy driveway. If he had a watch that wasn’t broken, he sure would check it, then drunkenly shake his fist at the sky and curse Ray Doevski’s tardiness. 

Just as that thought occurs, of course, Ray hits his mark. Skids up to the facade on Philadelphia with a little more urgency than usual. 

“Don’t burn that rubber too fast, now,” Al says, almost missing the step as he climbs in, “You know how tyres are a bitch to lift.”

“Ain’t you gonna offer me a drink?” Ray’s voice is a little reedier than usual–that usually means he has something on his mind. Something cooking. 

Through the encroaching fog of his inebriation, Al gives him a little once over. He’s got a smudge of motor oil on his cheek. 

Al wipes it away with a clumsy hand and feels Ray stiffen. His dark, delighted eyeballs seem to jitter in his skull before he jerks his head away from Al’s hand. 

A moment throbs, and Al pushes the booze towards him. He doesn’t totally understand and it shows as much on his face. 

“S’goin’ on with you?” 

He watches as Ray mechanically reminds himself to relax, chill out, they’re headed for a party. Like the gears are clicking behind his face, evening out his expression.

“Lemme ask you something,” and that vibrancy is back in Ray’s voice, “Your folks still on your ass about gettin’ a job?”

“Like flies on shit.”

“What if I told you I had an opportunity that would make them very happy?”

“Happier than they are with my brother, the Colonel?”

“Way,” Ray’s teeth gleam in the late Autumn sunset, the bodacious orange twisting the planes of his face into a handsome Jack o’ Lantern. “Real cash. And fast.”

Al slugs a little whisky and slouches further down in his seat. “Can’t be any dumber than the bullshit I’ve already heard. Hit me.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ flip,” Ray shakes his head, “The Gomes brothers wanna cut us in on a deal. They, uh, they’ve gotten familiar with us. Told you it was worth showin’ your face at the Hideout every once in a while.”

Every once in a while, sure… Ray and Al skulking the parking lot, chainsmoking and playing marbles like a couple of errant kids in order to get familiar with the local heavies. Prove they were trustworthy. That they’d see shit, but they wouldn’t say shit.

Flies on shit.

Al jerks forward as Ray steps on the gas. 

“A deal, huh?” Al finally manages. 

“Distribution,” the gentlemen’s term for slinging dope. Speed, hash, benzos. Whatever. “This is a real business, Munson. With real payout. We make the right connections, there’s no tellin’ what we can do with it.”

Ray’s just about frothing at the mouth; Al’s never seen him so jazzed about something before. Similar to Wayne with that cool as ice, hard rock front. It’s unnerving to see it crack. Al’s stomach winches. 

Prison before your ticket’s even drawn.

Then again, what else has Al Munson got going for him?

Ray’s shark eyes reflect a bolt of lightning that doesn’t appear in the sky. 

Al’s groan sounds like thunder. “Fuck it. Sure.”

“Thatta boy! We gotta be at the pickup spot at midnight sharp, Cinderella.” Ray’s hands drum against the wheel, and Al could swear that he sees his bare ring finger twitching. “And–listen, Al. Don’t go spreadin’ this around at the party, alright? Especially to the boys. Mixin’ business and pleasure… just puts a bad taste in people’s mouths, y’know.”

“I’ll behave.”

—

Easier said than done. 

Al wobbles through Gloriana Gomes’ backyard with the grace of a newborn gazelle, but at the very least he can make almost falling into the band’s drumset look cute. Lantern lights above him triple, quadruple, and he’s wondering just what the hell the bruiser bitch put in this punch. 

“Munson.”

“Ah! The lady of the hour,” Al manages almost coherently. “Lemme get look at you.”

He squints through one eye to take in Gloriana’s shapely figure, packed tight into a halterneck catsuit that would make any man shed a tear and cry glory to God. She’s stunning, this chick, with her blunt black bangs and her lacquered cherry lips and her spike heels–but by god, is she lethal.

Al needs exactly this amount of Dutch courage to even fathom speaking a full sentence to her. 

He heard she keeps a switchblade in her bra, which is how she’s won so many pageants. Pure intimidation.

He wants her to shave him bald all over with that very same switchblade.

Lurching forward, his lips brush her bouffant and almost swallow her earring. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“It’s not my birthday,” Goddamn, he can feel her nails dig into his bicep. Whisky dick is being rendered a myth with every passing second. “It’s just a party.” 

“Thassa damn shame, ‘cause here I am with this biiig ole gift for you,” Al’s choking on the chemical tinge of her drugstore perfume and the copious amounts of hairspray she wears. This, the girl with always has a lit cigarette perched in her fingers… walking fire hazard. White hot. 

Al’s hand slides over Gloriana’s hip, only distantly aware that he’s likely in Ray’s direct line of vision–that man rarely takes his eyes off the baddest Betty Hawkins has to offer. 

“You wanna see it? S’in my pocket…”

Those Dutchmen are really onto something.

Her nails dig again and Al wonders, with a throb to the crotch, if she’s drawing blood yet. 

“I’m gonna do you a favor, creep,” Gloriana hisses into Al’s ear, “I’m not going to slap the shit out of you in front of my brothers and their friends, because I don’t feel like helping anybody chop up your lousy little body tonight. I just did my nails fresh.”

“I can feel that.”

Gloriana lightly but politely shoves him off. Her face curls up into this charm-offensive, butter-wouldn’t-melt smile, which is completely at odds with her tough girl appearance. Still, it’s like a cherry nipple on a milkshake tit. Just perfect.

“You and that foster home freak are made for each other,” she says to Al, and he sees two pairs of ruby red lips instead of one. She makes it sound like she’s being friendly. Foster home freak—that’d be Ray’s calling card. Hawkins loves to remind Ray and Al that they don’t really belong here.

And then she’s gone, and Al feels a hand physically propping him upright. It’s dinky, bony and feminine so it can only belong to one person–

“Joycey!” he bellows into the young Maldonado birdy’s face. Now, Joyce is a gal that Al has always had a minute for and vice versa. She was always good for a smoke and a jaw about nothin’, as was he, but he didn’t love having to share his stash of finely toasted tobacco with that lug Jim Hopper she’s so goddamned fond of. 

Joyce flinches at the greeting, wiping a little of Al’s spittle off her cheek. “Jesus H., Munson, wake the neighbors muchly?” 

“Oh, between me and Dick fuckin’ Dale over here,” he gestures in the vague direction of the garage band that belongs to one Gomes or another, he’s sure, “they’ll be up all night. What’s shakin’?”

Joyce digs around her grubby jeans for her smokes, doing Al the honor of both putting it in his waiting maw and lighting it. She shrugs in that tight-shouldered way that she has, always wound up about something or other. She’s so twiggy, this girl–probably why Al’s never tried to put a move on her. He’s scared she’ll have a nervous breakdown or something. 

“Just wanted to see how you were.”

That’s the other thing. Bleeding heart Maldonado, always checking in on her good pal Al. Ever since he’d broke the news that Wayne was Viet-bound, she kept looking at him sidelong, all sadlike. 

“Me? Spiffy, sweetheart. Just darling, if you must know,” Al says, volume and theatricality increasing. “Any day now, I’ll have a full bedroom to myself. Ain’t that exciting?”

Joyce snorts, a puff of smoke coming out of each nostril like she’s the world’s most anxious dragon. “Gonna invite Karen over for a sleepover?”

“Ixnay on the aren-kay, Joy-say! My god, we can’t have the whole of Cherry Lane know I’m balling a cheerleader,” hands cup around Al’s mouth, cigarette still dangling from it, “It’d be just about my ruination!” 

Joyce giggles all big and unbridled, which Al likes because he likes when she loosens up, but it’s swiftly cut off as Al finds himself stumbling into the nearest deck chair–which is to say, into the lap of the person sitting on it. This lucky customer happens to be one Leonard Gomes, affectionately nicknamed Lurch. Guy’s built like a brick shit cathedral, not just a house, with a selection of fascinating prison tattoos covering his neck. Al can’t make ‘em out, even up close.

“Myyy sincerest apologies, big boy!” Al slurs, but doesn’t get up right away. Lurch’s little black eyes are blackening and blackening. “But hey, I’ll catch you later. For our big date, right? Right? Can ya gimme any clues for what we’re movin’, can–” 

Oof, hauled up by the front of his ribbed tank! Only Ray Doevski in full crisis management mode could manage such a feat. 

Just kidding. Joyce could probably do it if she put her mind to it. Al’s about a hundred pounds soaking wet. 

“Hey, this is my favorite shirt, man! Don’t stretch ‘er out!” 

A seething Ray hauls him all the way to the front of the house and about heaves him into the truck. Al complies pretty limply, not hating the feeling of being puppeteered around. His limbs were getting heavy. 

“Daddy’s givin’ me a time out,” Al pouts. And promptly leans out the passenger door and pukes. It’s all bile, three or four days of full bender bile. He’s barely eaten. It scores his nostrils and steams up on the pavement. 

Ray stands just out of the splash zone with his arms folded, waiting for Al to let up. 

When all the blood has been sufficiently drained out of his face, he does. Slumps against the seat. 

Ray doesn’t exactly look at him with anger. Or annoyance, even. There’s a pillowy nature to the way he stares him down, before he walks over to the Gomes’ garden hose and turns it on, stretching it so it’ll reach Al. 

He laps at the water gratefully. A hound. 

Ray digs a vial from his pocket, the kind that comes complete with its own little spoon. Something he’d lifted from some foster kid he’d lived with, he had told Al before. This little number is a sight for sore eyes. 

“The smelling salts. You shouldn’t have.”

Al huffs a bump up each nostril and shoves the heels of his hands into his eyeballs. 

Whammo. Slowly coming back to reality. 

“Sorry.” 

“S’alright.” Ray’s head swivels around, evidently spotting the Gomes brothers heading to their hot rod. His voice comes out tight and he bolts for the driver’s side of the truck. Moves so fast he makes Al dizzy. “We gotta move anyhow.” 

“Midnight already?”

“The witching hour.” 

—

His head wedged into the corner of the open window, Al breathes deep the dusty night breeze on Holland. On the drive out here, you can count down the seconds until you smell the lake. 

Five, four, three, two… Cannonball. 

They drive in an imbalanced silence. Tense on Ray’s end, nauseated on Al’s. But he’s just about starting to come to, starting to clock into the reality of their situation. 

Al had tossed around a little grass before; he came by it easy and could move it even easier. An operation like this, however, with clandestine pickups under the cover of night, with the armored Gomes vehicle tailing them–this is serious. 

Wait. 

Hold on. 

Al cranes his neck to get a look out the back window. They’ve lost the Gomes’ headlights. Nothing but dark, dark road beyond the reddened back beams of Ray’s truck. That’s funny. Guys of that caliber, big pieces of gristle and meat, they’re hardly going to be tardy to their own drug pick-up party. 

“Where’d they go to, Ray?” Al’s voice is a croak when it comes out, fighting against his burning throat. 

“Shut up, Al.” 

“Ray–”

“Shut up, Al.” 

Al shrinks down in his seat, a child admonished. Ray’s hand flexes over the wheel, a man desperately trying to keep control.

They pull around to this shitheap looking place on Lover’s Lake, so bent it’s practically sliding down the embankment. A van already sits there. Black, sleek. The kind a serviceman would have or something. 

Ray kills the engine and some force from beyond prompts Al to grab at his arm before he can jump on out. 

“Ray.” 

“You’re doing this for your family,” Ray seamlessly reminds him, the gaze he turns on him empty. There’s not a waver in his voice. Like he’d been preparing this little bon mot of encouragement. “I’m doing this for mine.”

“But w–”

“Doing it for love. That’s honorable,” Ray nods. His features have taken on this waxy sheen under the moonlight that threatens to bring Al to a dry heave. He’s like a ventriloquist doll, down to the wooden way he’s moving. “I’ve done things for love that you wouldn’t believe. Now get out of the fucking truck.”

Beat for beat, Ray exits the truck, Al exits the truck, then a guy in overalls appears from the shiny black van. All of it moving in this rhythm that’s making Al’s head swim–feels like an unreality. Feels like he’ll blink, be behind the wheel of that van with a crying baby to his right. Feels like a dream. 

Al, for once, clams up. Doesn’t say anything at all, because it’s the only way he can mask the nervous twitch his face takes on when he’s this piss-pants scared. 

But it’s funny. It’s not like a drug operation he’s ever dreamed of. There’s no real shadiness to it. Guy just opens up the back of his van and tosses Ray a brick wrapped in brown parcel paper. 

“Lurch and Palo on the way?”

It’s incredible. To Al’s knowledge, this guy, this guy with all the drugs in the back of his fucking van, has never seen Ray before but implicitly assumes he’s taking point on this deal. What if he had been a cop?!

But Ray Doevski does have this thing about him. Gives you one good, meaningful look and he has you shackled for life. You can’t help but trust him. 

Still waters, man. Just like Wayne, Al thinks and feels something different rise in his throat. 

“Lurch and Palo got caught up. Car trouble.” 

Overalls guy just shrugs and helps load the rest of the packages into the passenger side of the truck. Al, he just stands there. Rooted. Watching him. Ray doesn’t pass any heed; like he’s not even there. 

“Not much of a talker, your guy?” Overalls jerks his head in Al’s direction. 

“Nah,” Ray grins in the briefest of flashes. “Strong and silent type. Right, Munson?”

A light flashes on at the porch of the half derelict looking house. Al can spot a hulking figure in the window, obscured by what has to be clouds upon clouds of smoke.

Ray raises a hand in the form’s direction, as howdy doody casual as a fucking neighborino.

“Who is that?” Al hears himself ask.

“Rick. I’ll introduce you next time. You two’ll like each other.”

Next thing Al’s physically aware of is the pile of packages at his feet as Ray guns the truck to life. This insufferable smirk curls up the corner of his mouth, the kind that Al has an immediate instinct to slug right off. 

A bad feeling, a terrible feeling twists up his guts.

It’s justified about fifteen minutes into their drive back. 

Al sees the flames licking around the plumes of black smoke first, easing up into that inky sky stabbed through with needlepoint constellations. He sees mangled hot rod hardware wrapped around a great big tree. He sees blue lights, he sees red. He sees an ambulance. He sees two stretchers and two body bags. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he spits, his lips feeling loose and panicky. “Ray, Jesus, we have to stop!” 

“You wanna stop?” Ray laughs, voice so light you’d swear Al had asked him to pull in so he could take a piss. “You’re sittin’ on a small fortune of narcotics and you wanna stop? Don’t be such a morbid little rubbernecker, Munson.” 

—

The untimely passing of the Gomes brothers brought with it a varied reception. The angle from one end of town was that it’s great when God deals with hoodlums before the law has to. On the other, someone had to pick up the slack and keep the seedy underbelly of this wicked little place nice and satiated. 

Ray Doevski didn’t leave Gloriana Gomes’ side from the moment she got the news about her beloved brothers. She’d broke down wailing in his waiting arms, her red lipstick bleeding at the edges.

Those same brothers who regarded the scheming nowhere kid with such distaste that they’d never let them anywhere near their sister, or their business. 

Over their dead bodies.

The only reasonable move was to remove them from the picture entirely, and step in gallantly. The hero. A picture of suave severity, backroom business acumen seeping from his blacktop hairdo. He’d fill the hole, he’d keep the cash flowing.

When he got the time to cut the Gomes’ break lines, we’ll never really know.

Al couldn’t fathom pulling off such a stunt. 

Ray never admitted to it, of course. Can’t show your hand. Not to anybody, not even your best friend. But there was always this sense of knowing… even if he didn’t do it, he was capable of it.

Once he got over the shock of it all, how quick and seamless Ray had made that elimination, Al was overtaken with admiration. Tinged with latent fear, of course, but admiration all the same. 

When Ray dropped him off at the house on Philadelphia in the wee hours of the morning, Al pressed the Hawkins High class ring into his hand. 

“Well played, my liege.”

“Couldn’t’ve done it without ya,” Ray smiled. “Pleasure doing business.”

Business was right. At Al’s feet sat serious cash. Cash he could use to pull his weight around the house. Cash he could use to get out of Hawkins entirely. Cash he could rub in Wayne’s face, show him, hey! I’m not nothing! I can move this, I can be part of something huge and heavy! I can run this fucking town!

But he didn’t have any clear designs on doing anything without Ray’s say so.

The only designs Al had were on his boxer briefs. 

He was only really sure of one thing. He’d spend his entire life trying to best Ray Doevski. Trying to get that ring back on his finger.

Just for the love of the game. 

[sweetshire]

HI FRIEND (even though this is text I am waving so fast at you)

I hope you’re doing well! A couple questions but also please take this as a chance to talk about what you think is cool. Ok two questions: who is your fav lotr character?? If that’s too hard, maybe top 5? I am such a Sam fan, I love that silly little guy. I also love pippin. And I also love merry. And I also love Frodo. Can you tell I like hobbits.

Ok question 2: do you have a favorite sherlock holmes story? And do you have a favorite adaptation?

Secret third question: do you have a hobby that is not your favorite but that you do enjoy doing? Like if it’s on your list, one that’s solidly in the middle?

Ok that’s it!!! Thank you for being in my notifs, it always fills me with joy to see you there hehe <3

*waves back* HEYYY FRIEND AM I GLAD TO SEE YOUUU!! i was thinking about just yesterday bc GUESS WHO FINISHED READING E.W’S encyclopaedia of faeries? me! i did! this was goood. sweet and wholesome and utterly charming <3 and exactly the kind of book i needed to read atp, given that the next few books on my tbr are mostly classics or hard-hitters. u were so right they ARE giving howl & sophie!! these delightful fuckers- they have me squealing & smiling all day 🥺🥰

1. u should know that this is too hard a question for me & when u ask me anything abt lotr i could ramble for centuries but i’ll refrain from listing every one of my beloved characters, which includes the minor ones too obvsly because i’m me :) anyhow! woo *quivers excitedly* here i go: first would be a tie between frodo and denethor- i physically cannot (& will not) choose. also lmao SUCH a contrast in both their, well, character - lol well done, me! (yet they’re soo similar too. yes i find parallels between their narratives AND everything else as well what of it) then in no particular order- eowyn, faramir, boromir (basically all the gondor men <3), legolas, & as u know i adore the hobbits. all four of them -um 5, including bilbo- but MERRY!! i hate to see him brushed aside & unappreciated. justice for merry, and frodo too!! what selfless, sacrificing, lovely dear hobbits *cries* OH OH AND I ADORE SAMWISE TOO i’d be a fool not to. there’s not a person who’s capable of not loving him. no doubt i’ll be cursing myself later for forgetting other dear ones…

2. charles augustus!! god i’m obsessed w the milverton case. what doesn’t it have?? a master blackmailer. a lady killer (she slays -literally ajdksf). hand-holding. h&w being not at all hesitant abt committing a crime - a master detective who’s always used to solving one!! delicious.. it’s the story™ which perfectly captures the true essence of holmes’ character imho. and ‘a study of scarlet’ ofc. irene adler (nee norton) queen i love u. big shoutout to ‘the copper beaches’ also. i like all the stories with the ladies

3. hmm i do! fav one is - u guessed it - reading. to answer ur question: i looove doing henna!! every summer without practice i’d practice it on any hand i could find. i’m an amateur but still i like it. i haven’t been able to do it this summer :( on account of. me & my whole family has been sick/unwell in some way since the past month & a half or so. but i’m planning on applying mehendi or do a painting soon!! (i also liked to collect coins/stamps/buttons or some such as a child - i habit i’m always in danger of relapsing into but shh)

[laciefuyu]

just curious but when it comes to artem which year would you say was his best story wise and which one would you say is the worst:0?

Just the general year right? Not the card itself?

If so then, I would say it's the 4th year cards (From Cozy Contentment to the 4th Anniv Card) for the best year for Artem.

I think I only have two cards that are under A from my personal tier list which is Immersed in Intimacy and his upcoming CNY card. Those two fell on the odds for me because I think the earlier part is well-written (Especially for Immersed in Intimacy because it taps to one of important to Artem's characterizations: his original intention and sense of justice. In other words, his ideals, which I am passionate about but alas another topic entirely) but the pace for for the last two parts is off. Like with a hot spring card, I can tell the writer is trying to reach the hot spring evol art and moving this faster, it's palpable but still I am grateful for lots of conversations there.

But otherwise? I love this year for Artem, it gives me back the love I have for the game. In fact, if you saw me on twitter or discord, given the chance I would ramble about Artem's cards plenty lmao especially his 1st Solo SSS, 4th Birthday and 4th Anniv card. Also there is consistency of themes and narrative I noticed and it's actually going somewhere! I love emotional progress and emotional vulnerability.

For the worst, it's easily the third year (Cutie Ollie to 3rd Anniv). The cards I considered really good for that year are AUs (Bakerlon and Enduring Lights) then one present timeline (Belle Nuit d'Amour which I vouch to read along with Day and Night before reading his first Solo SSS) the rest is not packing as much punch in its writing or trying too much in fact there is one card that I hate so much that year (Surfer card/Ocean's Enchantment). I won't be forced to reread it LOL

The event story quality is also pretty fluctuated in third year which annoys me so much LOL

I also enjoy plenty of 1st and 2nd year, but yeah I love 4th year a lot.

But keep in mind, people's tastes can be different I know there are people who consider the case-heavy card boring which is the absolute opposite for me. Like my long time god-tier card (now shared with 4th bday card) is Day and Night which I consider essential to understand Artem as character, especially that when he shows so much vulnerability: fear of uncertainties and changes, his ideals and sense of justice and glimpse to his early lawyer day.

Whoops anyway I would stray too far from topics atp, but yeah that's my opinions ^^

[teiasviago]

i have to laugh bc i saw someone say mystra "was done so dirty in bg3" like LMFAO the last mystra literally had wizards duking it out with each other to become her chosen or whatever and then it got so bad that eventually one of the mystra's was like "alright this sucks ass now nevermind". and then there was the time mystra possessed a mortal woman and had seven daughters as her with the woman's husband and that fucking killed the woman and the husband abandoned them bc he'd had no idea and then mystra saddled elminster with the youngest three. the wizard fights was how azuth became mystra's chosen and then mystra's daughters (who aren't aasimar like aylin, just very powerful wizards/sorcerers) are also her chosen, though i think two of them are dead now. and she ALSO put elminster through a bunch of bullshit tests and started like right after his whole family was murdered or whatever so like that man can have his cheese from my camp, i'll chew him out later. and like yeah all that was from the first mystra but one of the first things this new mystra has done is wreck gale so i don't think that speaks highly to her character nor is out of line with previous incarnations. she may be "neutral good" but only as it pertains to her portfolio, in my view - she is "good" for protecting magic and the chaos of some actions cancel out with the lawfulness of her stringent rules for the use of magic. AND even if she was basically dead for most of gale's life and they only met "face to face" thirteen years before the events of the game and started dating then, when gale was already an adult, i would still consider it grooming. he was raised in a society - especially in waterdeep bc it's a center of magic - that venerates "good" aligned gods because they're literally irrefutably real. gale was obviously taught to value the weave and hold great respect for mystra, he attended one of the most prestigious academies of magic, and he was mentored by elminster himself. he was in a unique position to be used by mystra as wizards before him had been used - notably elminster himself, but also literally azuth, the patron lesser deity of wizards. (and the letters elminster sends to gale in his origin and if he becomes a god speak to the guy holding so much guilt for being party to the abuse gale faced - that he should have done more to prevent gale's downfall, especially bc he is one of mystra's survivors.) and then azuth's last line in the series of books in bg3 about the gods is literally about forever yearning for mystra. so then gale wasn't even pulling the idea of getting more power out of his ass or anything, someone else was given power/allowed to obtain it to the point of becoming a god in service to mystra. he disobeyed mystra's boundaries for using magic/gaining power, yes, but in his origin when you talk to mystra and say "i just wanted to be worthy of you" or w/e she says that gale was already worthy and just lacked patience. so again he wasn't even told a solid no it may have been more of a "no right now" no. (i say maybe bc atp mystra might just be gaslighting gale, trying to pretend that she hadn't been 100% forever and ever denying him, i wouldn't put it past her.) of course what's taken into account for deciding godly alignment is going to be a bit different than for beings without a godly portfolio. like!!!!! mystra can be dead in my eyes and still have neutral good alignment as a goddess bc for her most of all it's fucking complicated, seeing as she is like... the lifeblood of the realms or whatever. anyways. to end this... long-winded rant. part of what make's gale's story and romance so compelling is that he's completely correct when he says that the gods don't truly care about mortals, that they just cower behind ao. they can't really care bc they forget what it's like to be mortal, they depend on having mortal souls. they are just dressed up devils, dealing in souls. no good is wholly "good." they all have the power to save lives, to change lives for the better, yet squalor remains. it's an imperfect universe. compelling!

[mcondance]

richie nation resurrection i see…

now i’m thinking his stupid ass inviting you to the small bear opening, serving you and not letting the others do it, making sure everything is going just right for you until he eventually disappears to go be CDC for the night

then later he’s a lil upset because of carmy’s bitch ass and you make it all better by praising, telling him how you looveeee daddy’s new suits and how after seeing him being such a good, charismatic host—he deserves a nice sloppy bj it’s a god given right atp

hot.

[symbiotic-slime]

*crawls out of my school work gasping for air*

VENOM 3. IN 4 DAYS!!!!!!!!!! i can't see it on thursday im going to DIE. I might throw up the anxiety for this movie is already killing me. GOO BABY ON THE SCREEN MAYBE??? god. its gonna kill me. ill pass out right there.

Also, have you seen the NYCC announcements?? Why does he have Red?? Why couldn't they have waited till AFTER Venom War was over to announce this??? (sorry if you found out like this)

I'm gonna be living for the Movie timeline fics when this is all over unless maybe. MAYBE. it's Flash or Dylan that gets the symbiote. Waiting is killing me.

IKR WHERE DID ALL THE TIME GO!!! IM SO EXCITEDDDDDDDDDD

I’m seeing it Friday and I’m so scared I’m gonna accidentally spoil it for myself. god I need this movie to be good or im blowing up everyone. I need Eddie and Venom to make out sloppy style on screen. I need them to fuck. I need them to be so tender and loving with each other. I need Sleeper to show up (or any of the life foundation symbiotes atp) oughhhh

the NYCC announcements are fucking me up. I’m so… disappointed might be the right word? like I’ve just given up on the current mainline comics because I really want just a return to normalcy that is like… so far away. I want Eddie and Venom to raise Dylan and that seems like something that will just never happen. fuck. the only good thing about the current Venom run is that one shot of Eddie with the anti venom goop all over his crotch so it looks like he just came lmfaooo

*house md voice* no, comics canon will kill the patient. they need movie symbrock fics to live

[caraphernellie]

hi hi!

🍄🪐🥐 for the ask game please 💕

HAAIIII

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

this was hard for me to think about tbh... i love dellie so much but i never really make headcanons for them as a pairing... so i just wanted to point out one of my fav entries in ellie's journal about dina (and jj) from santa barbara 💔

Would it have been better if I'd stayed? Swallowed up the regret sad shame, Given them what's left of me? Was it mine to give? Do I still have it to give? Can I offer the scraps now? Gristle and bone chewed up and rotting. Or will it make them sick; Corrode their insides, cripple poison them? I could be in the woods Buried for the insects to clean Left for the insects to clean, until the iron smell is gone, until I'm bleached and beautiful brittle; Ready to display.

ellie's so emo help . her poetry is so special to me. but this one really eats me up, especially 'given them what's left of me? do i have it to give?' OUCH. she was suffering so much :(

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

this is the part where i admit i am actually extremely boring, unemployed, not studying anymore, because my mental health doesn't allow for me to LMAO but i'm trying!!

three things i'm grateful for right now:

churros

my friends and mutuals <3

my pets

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

oh god there's so many tbh i'd have to say.. penis music or outro music always makes me laugh... it's also an eight year old meme atp but shrek still makes me giggle... also references to 2018 tiktok...

[dramallamas]

The (unserious) notes of Beyond Evil. Episode Three Edition

Previous Episode || Next Episode

Cant wait to psychoanalyse this episode later with the scriptbook!

Jinmuk je te deteste dont even dare feel sad you monster

that shot of Juwon lazing on his sofa im down bad

He has nice handwriting tho

Honestly when is this man not thinking about Dongsik

The fly jumpscared me bc of my headphones

Dongsik you bastard (affectionately)

He is not ok rn

Juwon eavesdropping was me and my flatmate last night trying to find out the drama

The camerawork in this show is beautiful omg

Dongsik has no right to look this fine rn tho

Oop spotted!

Jihwa knew both of them were at the station lol

And bada bing bada boom we are in the recording room

And theyre off and Jihwa is so done

Juwon is so like WTF with this whole thing.

If looks could kill Dongsik would be dead 💀

why at 5am?! WHY WERE YOU UP AT 5AM?!

Bro Juwon doesnt hold back

Dongsik <3

Juwon could murder im sure of it. He has it ij him.

I like watching the gay men fight… because its fun :)

THE ONLY TIME I WILL AGREE WITH HAN KIHWAN IS RN “What a nut job. I like him [Dongsik].”

Juwon pissing off Kihwan is just so great at all times.

Theyre gonna find the wrong body and blow this case even bigger

Dongsik again <3 the onlt dilf of my life tbh

My heart breaks for him though. He masks a lot if pain

“What if I ran into older Yuyeon on the street, but failed to recognise her. That worries me a lot…” 💔

Fellas is it gay to stare at another mans smiling photo for a long time whilst in your room?

Juwon you have always been a crafty bitch and I respect that

YJG is a brilliant actor he is a master at subtle emotions which makes him one of the most expressive characters in the show

YAY you found a phone

Bad news for Juwon its Geumhwas phone that has his number.

Mate ur laughing like a maniac like dongsik does. You two arent as different as you think.

But my god you like to jump to the wrong conclusions

Watching the scene with nam sangbae and dongsik makes me cry but i cant because im in the living room with my flatmates. And the score in the background just 😭

Me 🤝 Dongsik : Laughing to hide pain

Man will stay in work just for Juwon

They back and forth in every scene like its all they do.

Mf going on about the culprit always returning to the scene and here comes JINMUK AHDKFMSP FORESHADOWING WE MISSED

Part of me think that Dongsik is suspicious of Jinmuk atp.

If you told them that they would be so close by the end of the series they would be fucking disgusted.

Oop juwon getting interrogated.

Juwon pausing before adding 요 at the end of his sentence like bro you are forgetting your respect conjugation

oh shit juwon not looking good for you is it.

"Given his nature, there is no way he [Juwon] would get involved in a crime" HYEOK YOU DONT EVEN KNOW-

Hyeok became his tutor in 2010... when JW was 17. does that mean that he helped JW in Korea rather than britain? or the tail end of britain onwards.

Hyeok you are such a kiss-ass

Do Haewon 🤢 she is so fake i hate it (which is the poing ig lmao)

LEE CHANGJIN. hes so funny for a bad guy

Jeongje is so frustrated with his mum (same)

Juwon is this close to slapping Hyeok at times.

aliens? rude much kihwan (what did we expect)

and there goes juwon loosing his cool.

annoyingly kihwan makes some points even if its for self centered gain. still hate kihwan dw

bro standing outside as ppl talk about him like 🧍

And then the eye contact between him and dongsik god having a whole silent conversation

Nice recovery juwon.

Them being nice to each other? NOT THIS EARLY BOIS

And boom personal space who? They dont know it.

Dongsik telling Juwon to go to therapy lmaooo

Juwon grabbing Dongsik probably became a… different thing later on yk? Hehe

This episode is basically Juwon and his terrible no good very bad couple days.

Bro you need to hike/walk more Juwon how are you already sweating.

You make think you have him, but nope he has you.

JUWON BREAKS INTO DS BASEMENT PART ONE HERE WE GO

The tiny bloodstain ofc. He def left it deliberately somewhat

And i am so hyped for episode four because of the incoming moments.

Juwon this isnt the victory you think it is trust me

see you all next episode! bye ^^

[disventure-rewrite-takes]

mod, this is not a rewrite idea, but I was curious as to what ships from this show you do and don't care for?

ahh thanks for the ask!!! out of everyone i literally just care for gabellie and jaiden. jaiden were done so well (probably because ONC have a. thing. for mlm romance) and even though gabellie did not have the perfect execution, oh man do i miss them.

i also used to really like tomjake. like, a lot. i found the show back when season 1 was still airing, i think episode 8 had just come out, and i was rooting for these two like crazy. ellie splitting them apart made me dislike her but ultimately, after seeing them continue to bitch and moan long after ellie did her thing, i realized it was a them problem, not a her problem.

conriya is an age gap ship i never understood why we were going for since they always had zero chemistry, in season 2 i saw it as connor just being his genuine kind self; grul is. grul. huntally is so boring and everything could have been fixed if huntessally happened LIKE IT WAS SET UP!!!!!! vut just as vivziepop cannot confirm an aro character neither can ONC poly ones. because its too risky to step out of the amatonormative norm, so they just stick to gays, lesbians and bisexuals. whom like obviously could use the rep but atp im happy ONC covered neither aro or poly people because they do a horrible job with the aforementioned already.

wishley happened off-screen for the sake of wishley fans being satisfied, they’re the forced token straight couple, why would i care for them?

trevek is... a mess. i used to say i shipped them to blend in with other fans but i really never cared for them. i’ve always thought derek treated trevor like shit and saw no appeal for this ship. i am so mad at ONC for making it canon because it’s so obviously just fan service, there is no canon reason for trevor to like derek, it’s just shoved in our faces because hey!! remember them!! background characters can’t have a meaningful story without romance right!! let’s make trevor pine!! and it’s so annoying because he was such a lovely character outside of derek. but now he’s just jake 2.0 and i am so afraid that krystrevek will just become tomjakeden 2.0 because god forbid we don’t have a forced mlm love triangle. everyone loves that right!!!!! right!!!!!!!!!!!

if i say i ship anything else besides gabellie or jaiden especially ships i am actively hating here,, i have either rewritten them really well in my head or gone crazy. and given that i hc half the cast as arospec either option is possible.

i’ve been tempted lately to start a commentary youtube channel (funky frog bait, danny gonzalez, kurtis conner, chad chad type of thing yk) and i have so many (negative) video ideas about disventure camp. i would be too powerful for the small screens. and so i remain here

[antlerqueer]

Okay so on the whole 'if you survive you live' thing, I've actually been thinking about that being connected to the locket. Like maybe they're giving it to whoever's about to be hunted because of the 'now your untouchable' thing in a 'if the forest wants them to survive than they'll survive' kind of way? I saw people say that maybe the locket goes to whoever is going to be next, and maybe it's just the way I read it, but it implied that the person gets it like ahead of time, like before the ritual comes up, which again just feels like it doesn't fit? Because I can honestly not imagine a single one of those girls finding out that after months of struggle, a necklace is what's going to decide their fate, and being okay with it, unless it takes a super depressed angle where one of the girls just like, embraces it.

But I also wonder where it is today? Was it left in the woods as like a final goodbye? Did someone bring it home? Did Lottie bring it back and start using it with the cult and/or currently has it and will have to use it with her cult/the others as like a final ritual? If they sacrificed wilderness baby then did they maybe leave it with him?

Is javi maybe alive in modern day and just like, dipped on everybody after they got rescued (this one doesn't seem too likely to me), did he maybe stay in the forest if he is alive? Did him and the baby possibly stay behind?

Is the dripping supposed to foreshadow maris death? Just the fact that a death will happen soon? Does it work like during the seance when Lottie heard the dirt tell her to spill some blood? Is there a chance that maybe mari is the one that either kills the next person (and like the dripping suddenly stops like the second after she does) or suggests that the next person to die (or even just christen if they find her body) should get eaten, maybe she becomes the person to kind of like officially start the rituals or even just being the one that gives them their biggest push in that direction?

Also the vision of how the plane almost crashed, is this like the dirt gods saying they saved them so now they owe them back for the mercy, is it a show of the power they have like theyre powerfull enough to stop the plane crashing that way, or maybe a show in the sense that the way the plane crashed was the natural way and the dirt gods had the power to have made the crash even worse if they had chosen to intervene? Is it a sign that maybe the dirt gods chose to save them for a specific purpose and not just an act of mercy?

Anyway, a lot of these were a lot less likely than some of the other ones but honestly, atp I'm just shooting at everything and the first thing that lands is what I'm gonna call the target😆

Thanks for your patience on me answering - long messages are harder for me to reply to on mobile and I wanna give it my full attention!

In my opinion, if it is part of a ritual sacrifice, it's given to whomever has to live through the night right before they run. They play like hide and seek rules, give them to 100 to get a head start, then the chase begins.

The question about where it is today is really good - honestly, would Shauna return it to Jackie until it's time for it to come back? Maybe? But I don't see Shauna wearing it constantly after it's used for the sacrifice stuff.

I don't know what's up with Mari and the dripping, tbh. I think we may not know until the end of the season what's up with that, based on it just being teased lightly for the past two episodes. That's one thing I don't have any ideas on, because I keep thinking of the promo where Coach Scott is like smacking his head to stop hearing something? So maybe he ends up hearing it, too? Maybe more people start hearing it? I don't know.

I think since the vision was during Nat's OD it isn't a message from the wilderness as much as it is from within Natalie; therefore, if the darkness is within them, then the darkness within Natalie brought forth that message. She may think the darkness saved them from their untimely fate, but I don't think the wilderness necessarily saved their lives. Because why would the wilderness save their lives and then ask for more blood, yknow? Saving them just to kill them? So it seems more like a reflection from Natalie's subconscious - she'd rather have died in that crash than do what they needed to do to survive, she'd rather have died than let that darkness into her, and now she has to live with these consequences. The darkness inside her, inside them all, makes her wish she never got out - and let's be real, did they really get out when it's inside them?

[phantomram-b00]

So I had a bg3 dream and I want to talk about just how much of a parallel it is.

(Spoilers for bg3 act 3 and 2)

So, you guys know that scene where Orin kidnapped one of your party members and make a deal w/you? Well I had this dream but extended.

So in game and in this dream, Orin kidnapped Lae’zel and make an offer. Now Eivør (my tav), is not the type to be a pacifist. They made a threat to kill Orin. (This is based on what I choose in game). So as Orin was about to go away (now this is where the dream come in) Eivør. Was. Furious. So she went to punch her (Orin) before they went away only Astarion stopped Eivør for doing so and let Orin go away. There Eivør was atp crying and demanding for him to let go despite their damaged voice[1]; only Astarion then switch from holding onto the arm to then rather carefully in a slow motion hug Eivør. Over time, Eivør while still crying stop yelling and just. Let it go. Accepted the embrace[2]. Still furious as much as ever in the party atp was. But cries in astarion’s shoulder as she reciprocated the hug.

Now as I woke up, I was a bit confused. Why would Astarion do that? I thought maybe this was me accidentally mischaracterizing him in my dream. But then I realize something that happen in game:

Just before this interaction with Orin, the party bumped into Araj. She said that Eivør’s blood caused the explosion and want to discuss more but Eivør was overall more concern over Astarion given his last encounter with her back in act 2. Once Astarion said “it okay, I’ll be fine.” I decided to let Eivør hear Ajar out. That’s when Ajar suggests to make another formula, now this is where Astarion sorta step in again only to say “don’t do it, this formula will only hurt you and…I don’t want to see you get hurt”.

Now this is to mention in act 2, I choose for Eivør to hug Astarion during his confession as well as tell him “I care about you. deeply.” And I believe before going into act 3, he said when talking about Cazador because I choose I believe that “I want to make sure your safe” in which he said something along the lines “I know and I want to protect you too.” (I’m forgetting exactly the line but it was somewhere alone those line)

So now it sorta hit me like a train. I think the reason Astarion hug Eivør in the dream wasn’t perhaps a mischaracterization. I think, Astarion while absolutely trust Eivør, don’t trust people who are going to cast harm on Eivør (I.e Cazador, Araj, etc). So I think the reason he stopped Eivør was because he doesn’t want to risk what could happen to her (Eivør) considering Orin is part of the dead three and is chosen by bhaal, which is the god of murder, and is a shapeshifter. So who to say Orin would just kill Eivør right there and then. Orin already proven to be sadistic and I feel Astarion doesn’t want to risk losing them so stop them from escalating. And I believe the hug is to parallel from the first hug as he never knew he needed that. Needed comfort after many years of enduring so much absue, so much hardship, so much pain. So this was Astarion giving them the same comfort to Eivør after experiencing the worst outcome to ever happen in Baldur gate.

But that’s just me of how I interpret this. If anyone else wants to interpret this, go right on ahead!

[1] at 17, their vocal cord was damage from a event that happen and so while it’s been heal by clerics, they can’t exactly speak high or loud without it hurting so much. I’ll go in depth with their backstory soon.

[2] Eivør is the type to sorta repress their emotions due to the events in their life. Even growing up they try to get better but it’s still a battle which would cause Eivør to have a short-fused.