#it's so ugly of them to put credits over this scene

[onlyswan]

summary: in which leaving the past behind is not as easy as forgetting, and you want to be everything jungkook wants to know.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / angst, fluff / wc: 7.9k

playlist: strange by celeste / sinking by clairo / manta rays by chloe moriondo / ceilings by beabadoobee / iris (cover) by phoebe bridgers & maggie rogers

content/warnings: [deep breath] no one will know the violence it took to become this gentle / it’s their first winter as a couple / oc’s ex bf slaps oc / jk beats up the ex / blood and bruises / crying :( / mention of cheating (not in our main’s rs we don’t tolerate that in this household :]) / mention of s*x / jimin as both their older brother and friend :(

in which masterlist!

note: greeting 2024 with angst woopsie… i literally ugly sobbed writing a particular scene T_T… anwww i hope it’s a good read <3 as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! i’d love to hear your thoughtsss 🥺

—

the word VICTORY flashes across the screen.

with a proud smirk adorning his lips, jungkook pushes down his headphones to hang around his neck.

he rises from his seat, resting his crossed arms over the partition dividing the computer that you’re renting from his.

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

he chuckles to himself when he realizes that you didn’t hear him, not with the music blasting from your headphones. you direct your attention upwards when endless song by no reply is abruptly put on pause; the cushions of the headphones are pressed up against your cheek by your boyfriend’s doing.

“what?”

“hi, baby. are you almost done?”

“oh, yes…” your focus returns to the screen, fast fingers dancing along the keyboard without an ounce of hesitation weighing on them. “i just… need to… send the file to my email.”

jungkook blinks at the long rows of words you’re masterfully curating, thinking to himself — how the hell do you think and type that fast at the same time?

it was his suggestion to stay at a pc bang tonight so you could be together while you each do your own thing. he spent his half of his day-off playing games, and during that time, you worked on your research paper and finished an essay that isn’t even due for another week. you took a break every hour, munched on some snacks, and cheered him on while he was diligently playing. perhaps he could’ve done something more productive today, but it couldn’t have made him happier.

he holds out the last slice of gimbap in between chopsticks, lightly poking your lips, and his heart flutters when you offer him a sweet smile after welcoming the big bite with some difficulty, cheeks full and nose scrunched.

“is there anything else you want to eat?”

you shake your head, and unable to speak while chewing, you gesture for water as if you’re playing charades.

a kiss is granted to your forehead.

when he comes back with a bottled water, all your tabs have been closed and you’re wearing your white beret again, re-organizing your belongings in your backpack.

“ready to leave?” he inquires as he hands your order.

you hum as a reply, standing from your seat as you swing the backpack over your head to wear it with little to no effort.

jungkook thinks you’re so cool.

you visit the restroom as he settles the bill. when you come out, he’s already pulling out a credit card from his wallet. you decide to head straight for the door then, wait for him outside as the air inside the room has started to feel a little too stuffy after you stepped away from the computer.

you’ve always thought about it— how time stands still when you experience something traumatic, how that moment feels stretched for eternity… how utterly barbaric that is. you’re forced to memorize frames of the origin of your scars, relive it over and over again, eyes closed and open. moments of happiness, on the other hand, are fleeting. they are sand slipping through the gaps of your fingers. getting out of bed is scooping them in your hands and praying that they will hold on to you in the following rotations and revolutions of the earth. they never do.

there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, just as horrified as you.

his face is the last thing you want to see on a winter night.

because you still recall the amalgamation of emotions in his eyes two winters ago. his skin was flushed from the cold, but he turned redder with anger and your stomach coiled in shame.

“juwon?”

the name felt odd in your mouth. it’s like when you eat a food you haven’t had in a long time, and it doesn’t quite taste like you remember it.

and to be honest, you didn’t know what you expected to happen when he carried on to climb the remaining steps that led to you. but it definitely wasn’t… this.

the first hand to carress your bare body, as if it was in disbelief of its existence, and the rings you used to blindly adore— they collide with your cheek with a sound that resonates in your eardrums.

the slap thins out into a ringing noise.

“are you insane?!”

it continues to assault your hearing even as you scream and hit him back.

it ends when someone bumps against your shoulder in a haste, and the next thing you register is juwon lying on the ground with jungkook sitting on top him, balled fist throwing unforgiving punches at your ex-boyfriend’s face. juwon is held hostage by the shock and is unable to reciprocate jungkook’s aggression. he attempts to fight back but your boyfriend dodges easily.

“jungkook! stop, stop, stop!”

you run down the stairs with panic thundering in your chest, nearly in tears as you forcefully grasp at the back of jungkook’s coat to pull him away, but with his strength and the adrenaline flowing through his veins, your efforts prove to be fruitless.

“you fucking bastard! i’m gonna kill you!”

“that’s enough-” you cry out. “please!”

“how dare you lay a hand on my girlfriend like that, huh?!”

he is furious, gripping the collar of juwon’s sweater and slamming him to the ground.

“your girl?” coughing, juwon faces the side to spit out the blood in his mouth, which then shapes into an arrogant smirk. “didn’t you know? ____ was mine first. i was the first!”

the next punch he receives cuts his lower lip open, and a stronger metallic taste assaults his tongue.

“jungkook!”

before jungkook could inflinct more permanent damage, you resort to holding back his arm with both of your hands.

your gazes connect, and your heart drops to your stomach. he is seething with anger. your blood runs cold and a thick haze clouds your thinking. you can’t move your limbs. what do you do? what do you do? what do you do?

“____, let go. i’m not fucking finished with him.”

“please,” you beg, ignorant of the tears that have begun to slide down your cheeks. “that’s enough. look at him!”

“and why should i care?” he spits out as he shrugs you off.

“ah, jungkook! i said that’s enough! why won’t you listen to me?!”

your desperate tantrum falls on deaf ears. you squeeze your eyes shut when he re-assumes his stance, tucks his thumb over his folded fingers, exactly what he taught you about making a proper fist to avoid injuring one’s self when boxing.

“stop it! you’re scaring me!”

that throws a bucket of ice over jungkook’s head. the anger in his eyes is replaced by vacancy, and with that, juwon seizes the opportunity to finally strike him with a jab and escape from underneath him. jungkook finds himself pushed aside on the ground with a throbbing cheek, mostly likely to be noticeably bruised in the next hours.

“love-” you gasp, and you rush over to him but your path gets rudely obstructed by your ex.

“is this the guy you cheated on me with?”

he is extremely near that you can feel him panting on your face. two years later, your stomach coils in disgust. your glare is venomous, and if only looks could kill, if only looks could kill…

“just leave, won’t you? what’s the point of all this?” you roughly push him away with your remaining shred of energy, driven by exhaustion and frustration. “it was so long ago! get a fucking grip!”

he huffs in disbelief as he wipes the blood from the corner of his mouth. it also drips from his nose and eyebrow. strange enough, you do not feel guilt nor compassion for this man. not anymore.

“are you seriously crying just because he got punched one time…? isn’t that a little unfair? you loved me too. once.” he snickers, but he is visibly pissed off. he can no longer look at you in the eye. “shit, is he that much of a better fuck than me?”

your skin crawls. bile creeps up your throat. technically speaking, this is the consequence of your own actions, but you can’t help but to be resentful.

“you are…” your voice trembles, but your glare remains unwavering. “still as despicable and shallow as ever… and i don’t regret what i did.”

and it may have been a long time ago, but you still know how to hit him where it hurts the most— his ego.

you purposely bump against his shoulder as you make your way to jungkook, leaving him speechless as he stares at the ground. the night the two of you broke up, you were crying and begging him for forgiveness… what the fuck happened?

“let’s go home.” you demand quietly while refusing to meet jungkook’s stare— a mix of confusion, offense, and rage.

but the thing about juwon? he always needs to have the last word.

“you better keep a close eye. you might think you know ____, but whores never change. especially those who became one so young.”

“dude, how are you still speaking?!”

it’s too late when you realize that jungkook has left your side. he swings at juwon’s face with a force that sends the man stumbling backwards. he completely loses balance then collapses on the ground with a curse that almost misses your ears.

“don’t ever go near ____ again! don’t even think of it! if you show your face to me again, i might really end up fucking killing you. you hear me?!”

—

jungkook doesn’t recall a time when he felt a rage this intense and consuming. witnessing you get slapped, his vision went dark and he was shaking with fury. everything was a blur after that, but he knew one thing: this man violated the most precious person to him, and he won’t allow him to get away with that unscathed.

and that must be why he feels restless until now. neither one of you has dared to utter a word for the past couple of minutes. he can’t see your face as you’re walking ahead of him, leading the way with his wrist in your cold hand. however, he can hear your sniffles, and he can see you wiping your tears dry with the back of your hand. he thought he has experienced heartbreak, but this pain cuts deeper than anything he has ever felt.

“baby, let’s go back.”

he breaks the silence, standing infront of you to stop you on your tracks. he almost reeks of desperation as he intertwines your fingers together.

“please? there should be a cctv camera infront. we can sue him.”

“are you even hearing yourself? you’ll also get into trouble!”

his insistence only fuels the urge to cry and scream and break things. it’s an understatement to say that you’re ashamed. it was foolish of you, really, to assume that leaving the past behind would be as easy as forgetting. it may be out of sight but it is everywhere, and it sneaks up on you without tell and mercy.

“you attacked him out of nowhere! he can sue you for that too!”

“out of nowhere?” he repeats your words slowly, hurt flashing across his face. “i was protecting you, ____! who knows what else he could’ve done? and the shit he was talking about you? was i just supposed to stand there and do nothing?”

“and i’m protecting you too! why did you even have to punch him again?! he was obviously just trying to provoke you! god, i-” you release the air in your lungs you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. “thank god he didn’t see your face.”

that struck a nerve for some reason. he harshly rips off the mask that has been concealing half of his face all along.

“he hit you! look- fuck, you’re bleeding-”

oh, his rings must’ve grazed you.

jungkook brings out a clean white handkerchief from the backpocket of his pants, pressing it softly against your cheek. the sharp sting forces you to grit your teeth. it’s not only the wound… your skin is still warm and tender from the assault. you’re terrified to look at the mirror. you don’t want to feel sorry for yourself.

“and that’s what you’re really worried about right now?”

“okay, then i’m sorry for caring about my boyfriend and his career! i’m sorry, okay?!“

he dies a little inside when you harshly push his hand aside.

so this is what it feels like to be at the other end of your anger… shitty. it feels really shitty. after what happened, there is no sadness or fear. the twinkle in your eyes have been replaced with sharp daggers and it is gutwrenching to watch. it clicks for him then: you weren’t scared of him. you were scared for him.

he doesn’t allow you to go further than ten feet away. he seizes your arm before sneaking his hand on your waist to tug you closer to his body.

“you think i’m letting you out of my sight again? it’s not happening!”

you click your tongue in exasperation, left with no choice but to admit defeat as he hails the approaching taxi. you cover your face to hide from the blinding headlights.

ever the gentleman, jungkook opens the door for you.

“get in, ____.”

and the first thought that enters your mind: the air freshener is nauseating. it has to be something mixed with lemon.

you roll the window down as your boyfriend dictates the address of your destination to the taxi driver. not yours, but his. you send him an unimpressed scowl, but he only looks back at you challengingly under the warm dim light. the soft cloth is placed over your wound again, rudely snatched as you turn away from him. you hold it on your own as you watch the world outside the window, streetlamps with blurry light streaks and homes you will never set foot into. in the midst of your musing, you register the weight on your head, or its lack thereof. your beret landed on the ground in the aftermath of the first strike. what is there left to lose?

you thought you could be happy at last, but beside you is another soul you’ve stained with your bloody hands.

juwon was right, you never change.

—

“i still don’t think it’s right that i know the password.” you whisper as you push the door open.

“but i have a key to your house. what’s the difference?”

“i don’t know…” you begin removing your boots, carefully placing each one in the middle level of the shoe rack. “you live with six other people.”

“namjoon-hyung and yoongi-hyung are in their studios. the others went home.”

you enter the living room with jungkook hugging you from behind. his cheek rests on top of your shoulder, and he doesn’t want to let you go. the ride here was suffocating. he thought you wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the night anymore.

you blink at jimin who is sprawled out on the sofa, a gray blanket that matches his sweatpants is covering his naked torso.

“why does he sleep here? doesn’t he have a bed?”

“the sofa is more comfortable.” he mumbles loud enough for you to hear as he opens his eyes halfway, but then he gives up and closes them again, curling in on himself to resume his slumber.

“okay… now i know what to get you for your birthday.”

for a brief second jungkook assumes that you’re joking, but you sounded way too nonchalant.

“a sofa?”

“a new mattress,” you blankly stare back at him, before proceeding to break free from his embrace to search for the bathroom.

he follows you like a lost puppy, whining. “why does he already have a birthday gift and i don’t?!”

“quiet!”

he winces. “sorry, hyung!”

—

you’re perched in the space between jungkook’s thighs, legs swung over one of them as he tenderly presses a cold compress against your left cheek. you’ve changed into the pair of pink cooky pajamas he wore a few times and has kept in his closet specially for you. sinking into his mattress, drowsiness has also begun to seep into the depths of your bones. it’s been an arduous week, and you’re exhausted of fighting in every sense of the word.

“he deserves more than what he got away with.” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“jungkook, enough.” you chide at him with a sigh. “let’s just forget about this.”

“your face is going to be bruised for atleast a week! how am i supposed to ‘just forget’? are you hearing yourself?”

your rhetoric question from earlier comes back to gnaw at your thread-like sanity. you feel backed into a corner. you can’t think of a solution that will put this issue at rest, much less make either one of you feel better.

“he’s not worth it.”

“you are to me.” he declares.

it’s impossible to argue with that. you want it to stay true. you want him to keep believing in you.

“i’m tired.” you whisper, removing yourself from his lap. “let’s go to sleep.”

he gazes at you with longing.

you are lying on his bed but you have never felt so far away.

“are we really not going to talk about this?”

“not now. i’m tired, jungkook.”

“baby…”

“juwon is a terrible person, but i had it coming…” you mumble. “that’s all there is to it.”

foreboding silence falls upon the bedroom. you can’t bring yourself to look at jungkook, so you close your eyes and pray that when the sun rises, this night will simply turn out to be a nightmare orchestrated by your wicked mind.

“whatever that is, it doesn’t warrant what he did.” he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead, and it takes everything in you not to fall apart into a thousand shards. “and i’m sorry that i couldn’t stop it from happening.”

—

jungkook returns after his shower, not yet done with drying his dripping hair with a towel. you’ve drifted off to sleep in the time that he was gone, lips slightly parted open as you breathe out puffs of air in a steady rhythm. your hair is a halo and you’re an angel snoozing on a cloud.

he heard it loud and clear, and you haven’t denied it either, but there’s not a part of him that believes it. is he blindly in love with you? is this what he was warning him about? are you not an angel, but a siren?

wary of waking you up, he attaches a bandaid to your cheek. he flicks the lightswitch but he turns on the night lamp so you won’t have to manuever the dark incase you wake up in the middle of the night in need of the bathroom.

shit, shit, shit. he curses in his head when you begin shuffling as soon as he settles himself on the bed, but it’s just you unknowingly seeking for warmth in your sleep. he gathers you in his arms and your pillow is abandoned in favor of his naked chest. it always feels fitting, like his heart is the stuffed toy that you can’t go without at night.

he swallows the lump in his throat, brushing your hair away from your face to gently caress your soft skin. you look so serene. but your ex’s fingers can be traced on the red bruise that has tainted your cheek and his jaw clenches, hand momentarily balling into a fist to release the leftover anger still boiling in his blood. everyday, you feel the need to act tough because of people like him, and you are… but deep down, he knows, that you just crave to be loved.

“you loved me too. once.”

however, that has lost its meaning when juwon didn’t love you the way you deserved to be loved.

and jungkook admits it’s not as easy for him to do in a whole different dimension. he leads a kind of life not everyone survives, but that never stopped him for trying his damn hardest.

—

you’re awoken in the middle of the night by jungkook’s forehead accidentally knocking against yours. his snoring doesn’t cease, however, and you had to remind yourself that this is the same boy who continued sleeping despite rolling off his inflated sleeping bag on camera.

you slowly sit up as you rub the sleep from your eyes. you spend an unknown amount of time spaced out, barely blinking. afterwards, you force yourself to leave the comfort of the bed, taking the cold compress along with you. you drain the melted ice over the kitchen sink before opening the refrigerator to refill it with ice cubes. you can’t help but to allow your eyes to wander around, which then leads you to contemplate on whether to cook ramen or not… but then again, it’s already 3am and most likely, you won’t be able to sleep again if you do.

“yah! why are doing just standing there?”

the deep voice echoes throughout the kitchen. you yelp in shock, nearly dropping the ice bag as you tap on your pounding chest.

“i told you to stop doing that!”

jimin bursts into a fit of too delighted giggles, hunched over the kitchen counter as he places a hand over his belly. he’s fully clothed this time, fresh from the shower, judging from his hair.

“it’s not funny!” you whine. “one of these days i might be holding a knife when you do that!”

“ey, what would you be holding a knife for? jungkook never lets you lift a finger while you’re here.”

that’s just because he knows you’re not very talented in the kitchen.

the wide smile on his face then fades, expression morphing into one of concern as he studies your face bathed by the refrigerator light.

“what happened to your face?”

fuck, you’ve completely forgotten about that.

“it’s a long story.” you sigh, closing the refrigerator.

“it’s alright. i have all the time in the world to listen.”

“you know that i really appreciate that and i’m grateful but…” your smile borders on a wince. “no, you don’t. get some more sleep, please.”

your unexpected response causes jimin to scratch his head shyly. the two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before laughing at the same time.

“oh, that’s right!” you pause on your tracks when an essential item pops in your mind. “do you have healing ointment? for cuts and bruises and stuff?”

“it’s for jungkook,” you add.

“doesn’t he have that?”

“it’s not here,”

your sweet smile tells jimin everything he needs to know.

“ah, that kid really comes home to different houses now. he’s all grown up.”

“…and how many exactly?” you arch an eyebrow.

he purses his lips together, jokingly pretending to think hard. “the dorm… and then his family… then there’s you?”

“anywhere else?”

“nope!”

“sooo, do you have it or not?”

“i’ll go downstairs and buy it right now.”

he offers you a kind smile and pats on the head. a protest dies down in your throat as he goes straight for the front door.

“thank you!”

“you’re welcome!”

—

despite your active efforts to avoid making any sort of noise, the door produces a small ‘click’ as you cautiously close it behind you. you discover that jungkook has flipped over to face your side, his arm outstretched as if he was reaching out for you. you almost feel bad for leaving him alone in bed, so you sit next to him, positioned on the lower half of the bed since he took up your space.

a short snore escapes him, one that rises then falls so abruptly, like a note on the piano pressed on accident. you cover your mouth to muffle your giggle.

how adorable. you have grown to tolerate, and even adore, his snoring.

stolen kisses on his bruised knuckles, tiny and featherlight, apologetic most of all. their bad condition brought upon by boxing worsened when he used his dominant hand bare, knuckles of his two longest fingers ripped. it seems that he did the bare minimum by putting a stop to the bleeding then washing them clean, then nothing else. he didn’t even tell you, didn’t complain or show any sign that he was in pain.

you hold the cold compress over his bruises, switching between his cheek and knuckles, mindful of not touching the wounds as to not aggravate him in his sleep.

you’ve been stripped down bare— your pride and dignity dismantled into pieces that create a picture of you that you do not like… but could be the love and sincerity in your heart be enough to live by? even if no one is awake to witness it?

you’re saved from drowning in your thoughts by the front door being unlocked. for the second time, you tiptoe your way out of jungkook’s bedroom.

“this is for wounds, and then…” jimin returns the tube inside the paper bag to grab the other. “this one, for bruises.”

“thank you. i’ll pay you back.”

“yah!” jimin expands his eyes threateningly, which you mimic in challenge as you hug the paper bag to your chest. “i’m also your older brother, okay? i should do these things for you.”

you scrunch your nose, to express disagreement at first, but later on it only makes your smile appear brighter.

“doesn’t it hurt you to smile? please use them well too, ____. do you understand? that’s why i bought the biggest ones!”

it does hurt.

“thank you…” you reply shyly.

you’ve forgotten how it feels like to be taken care of by family.

—

“baby, where did you go?”

jungkook’s raspy voice is music to your ears.

he woke up a mere minute ago, caught in the middle of sitting up on the bed once it caught up to his sleep-muddled brain that you’re no longer beside him.

“nowhere,”

you sit at the edge of the bed without another word, putting his hands over your lap to apply the healing cream to his afflictions.

his eyelids flutter in sleepiness as he watches your every movement.

a small dollop at the pad of your finger, transferred over his torn knuckle and smeared with the lightest of touch. occasionally your finger pauses, unsure, calculating— the last thing it wants is to hurt him.

he kisses your lips— he feels suspended in time—hasn’t quite reconnected with reality and with his body. wide-eyed, you seem taken aback by the display of affection. his mouth then softly curves with fondness.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” you whisper timidly.

your actions have become hurried, but jungkook is far too drowsy to notice your discomfort.

for the final part, you rub the cream on the bruise on his cheek. you press a kiss on the corner of his lips. “all done. go back to sleep.”

“let’s go,”

he hooks his arm under your knees, eager to carry you over to your side of the bed, but he gets interrupted by your protest.

“wait, wait, wait- i need to pee first.”

“wha- hurry!” he complains with a peeved frown, which you fail to catch a glimpse of because he has squeezed you taut against his body. “i won’t be able to sleep without you here.”

—

eternally cursed with the ability to feel too much of everything.

you push your back against the bathroom door, breathing heavy and labored as you blindly pat around for its lock. the click serves as the cue for your salty tears to drip from the edges of your eyelashes, cascading down, down, down your chin. some of them crash on the collar of your pajama top, the rest on the white tiled floor. this room is a stranger to your shipwreck, but old habits die hard.

the intense pressure of the water collides with the porcelain sink. rain and thunder and the gusts of wind being your gasps for air. an isolated storm undetected in the city of seoul you’re forced to brave alone, on the floor, tucked into yourself to protect the beating sacredness inside your ribcage. the sobs claw their way up your throat rather than soaring like exhales do.

no one has ever raised their hand at you. not even your parents. not even when you broke your grandmother’s precious china, or lost their big paper bills to the wind, or cursed at them for embarrassing you infront of your friends.

you want to be mad and say that juwon deserved what he got. you want to say that you hope his nose is broken. but you don’t know how one is supposed to react when something like that happens. you don’t know if it justifies everything after that. if the roles were reversed and you slapped him, won’t no one bat an eye?

…and you know jungkook has questions you still haven’t figured out how to answer. you know he now has reasons to doubt you. you know in his eyes, you may now be a hypocrite and not the advocate he adored. these days, you don’t really want to be seen as anything less or more than who you are, but you so desperately wish to be someone he is proud to love.

you feel mocked for even daring to dream of it.

“i’m tired, i’m tired, i’m tired.”

incoherent mumbles further stirs the unbridled chaos.

“i’m so sick of this. why… why do bad things keep happening to me?”

you don’t expect an answer but you yearn for some sort of meaning. you don’t mind suffering but you wish it could only be to an extent where you don’t have to fear.

echoes of rumbles and thunder. you’re nearer the sky but farther from heaven.

—

it’s been more than a week. you’ve been waking up with a gaping hole in the middle of your torso. you climb out of bed, cover up your cheek with make-up, good as new, and go about your day as if nothing happened. life on its own is already too much of a burden for you.

jungkook checks up on you everyday, though, despite his busy schedule. mostly through the phone, and whenever he can, he goes straight to where you are after work to dote on you no matter the time. he kisses you on the cheek, claims himself to have healing properties, and says i love you. and during those periods of time you were together, he hasn’t said another word about the incident. and it has been driving you absolutely insane.

you glance down at him, sat on the floor with an ipad balanced on top of his propped up knees, wearing one of your anti-radiation glasses as he finds himself absorbed in drawing the view a foot away from him. you.

“why do you keep looking at me?” he scolds you lightheartedly. “go back to studying so we can go to sleep.”

“can’t help it,” you mumble as you reposition your pen over the paper. you’ve been reorganizing your notes the whole night for your upcoming tests, but your mind keeps flying everywhere else. “my boyfriend’s too pretty.”

“ah, it can’t be helped then. sorry about that.” he smirks cockily, pulling the dramatics by switching his eyes between you and his back. “should… should i turn around then?”

“did you box again?”

the accusation is spat out before you can think twice.

“oh, you did. your knuckles are all messed up again.”

he pouts, crossing his legs. “but baby, i have to train... i wrapped my hands properly!”

“still,” you sigh. “can’t you just let them heal for a little while?”

you turn to the cabinet on your other side to bring out the pouch of healing ointments you’re now suspecting he brought and didn’t accidentally leave behind.

you lay out your hand, and jungkook puts his on top of yours, dragging himself close.

you both smile when you see that he has laid his hands over your thighs like he’s getting a manicure. silly boy. you pull them closer by his fingers so you can reach his red knuckles.

“why are you trying so hard?”

your finger is stained with his blood. your voice is as gentle as your touches, and that’s why it hurts.

jungkook doesn’t know either. he’s been trying to extinguish his leftover anger and bitterness through work and boxing— suppressing the onslaught of negative thoughts threatening to poison what the two of you have. jungkook doesn’t want to know. he doesn’t want anything to change. right now, he can’t afford them to.

“there’s no one to fight.”

“turns out there is,” he argues.

he regrets it as soon as your hand trembles.

“it’s okay… to ask. we’re in a relationship. you’re entitled to know things like that.” your eyes are unafraid again, and it scares him, like you’re always prepared to let him go. “i won’t get offended, or anything like that. if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“i trust you,” he says simply. “so i don’t need to know. especially if talking about it makes you uncomfortable. it’s okay… we’re okay, baby.”

stillness washes over the room like a tide that swallows everything up, and for a moment jungkook is convinced that the two of you will never bring it up again.

but the words you utter next are a punch to the gut.

they almost sound like a plead.

“but i can’t live my life that way, jungkook.”

strands of your hair descend to your face, framing it perfectly, but your eyes become hidden from view. you rip a bandaid open and blanket it over his two knuckles, still wounded as before, if not worse.

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know…” because there will be things i’d want to tell you, but wouldn’t feel the need to.

“then tell me,” he replies, prompted by a renewed determination. “i don’t just intend to be with you for a long time. i want way more than that.”

—

jungkook fiddles with the hello kitty bandaid using his thumb, mind reeling and grappling to process the overload of information told by your storytelling voice. all of a sudden, he’s grateful that you decided to lie down on the bed for this conversation.

“juwon was your boyfriend before me, no?”

“no, no, no. he was…” your lips part as if you have something more left to say, but you eventually give up. “yup, no.”

“so you found out that he’s been cheating on you for-for two mo-”

“three-”

“three months, and you…” he blinks. “slept with a stranger and let him catch you?”

“i was really petty. i was seventeen after all… my pride couldn’t take it. my friends- they tried to stop me but… but all i could think of was how to make him feel the way i was feeling.” your voice sounds small, smaller as you squeeze yourself into his side and curl up to hide your face. “so i let him think i was the bad guy.”

he understands that you were vengeful, but he doesn’t know if you comprehend the scale of what you have done.

“he looked so sad and hurt that i started to feel guilty. i don’t know if i was still acting when i was apologizing to him.” you scoff with eyebrows knitted together. “i felt so dirty… i still feel like a bad person, you know?”

you took the face of juwon’s demons and he didn’t like what he saw.

“i had it coming,” — he now has a grasp of what you meant before.

“so how has he been doing this to me for such a long time? how does he stomach it? knowing what i was going through? that’s what i thought… it makes me so upset…”

jungkook doesn’t try to assess you as you speak. he only listens, until your voice cracks. his heart is split into two as tears flood your eyes, escaping past the corners and slipping down to soak the fabric of his t-shirt.

you sniffle. “and the sex wasn’t even that great. i regret it even more.”

he flinches, abruptly squeezing his eyes shut. not that great? okay… okay. the mental image of you being physically intimate with someone that isn’t him definitely doesn’t sicken him to his core. at all. nope, nope, nope.

“fuck, baby, please,” he groans as if he is in pain, putting an arm over his eyes. “hearing about you have sex with other guys is making me want to punch something again. fuck.”

“that’s what you took away from the story?”

“yes!” he exclaims with conviction. “we should’ve met a year earlier. i would’ve let you use me!”

you gasp, scandalized. “oh my god! jungkook!”

“argh-” he animatedly clutches at his chest that caught your fist.

“you’re crazy!”

“uhuh, about you.” he proudly replies, pulling you closer to his side, as if that was still possible.

the subtle upwards of the corners of your lips gives him a sense of relief. he tenderly cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the bruise that has turned a darker shade of blue and purple.

“listen to me, i- i’m not here to tell you what’s right or wrong. i’m not that type of person. but what i can do tell you is that this…” he briefly shakes his head. “didn’t change the way i see you at all. he hurt you. he cheated and you were hurt, ____.”

your eyes gleam with uncertainty, a fresh wave of tears threatening to escape. “are you sure?”

“of course i am. why wouldn’t i be sure?”

“because you’re crazy about me.”

the sweet innocence of your eyelashes fluttering elicits a chuckle from him. you’re so fucking cute.

“that’s the reason i’m sure.” he tilts up your chin to plant a kiss to your lips, mumbling. “i’ve never been wrong about anything i’m crazy about.”

“thank you,” you say quietly, melting into his embrace. you nuzzle your face against his chest, and at last, you grant your eyes rest. “i can finally sleep peacefully again.”

fuck, it’s been weighing on you this whole time and he didn’t know.

“i’m sorry i only dated assholes before you.”

“aish, why would you be sorry about such a thing?” he kisses the top of your head, gentleness contradicting his following sentence. “i’d crush each one of those assholes for you.”

and he’d beat himself up the worst if he ever becomes one of them.

you yawn, sniffling right after. “mhm, i bet you will.”

he carefully rolls over to the side so he can wrap both arms around you, and you keen in contentment.

“jungkook?”

“yes, baby?” he coos.

“i… really… love you so, so, so much. you are… the one person i’d die for before i hurt.”

goddammit, it’s an angel sleeping in his arms.

“that’s a relief to hear. you’re very smart and scary when you’re mad.”

“eh, jungkook! i swear i’ve grown up! i’m not like that anymore!”

“okay, okay!” he laughs at your childish whining and squirming as he ushers you back in his embrace. “i believe you! i trust you! i love you too!”

—

although you spend more nights together in your apartment for your safety and convenience, in all honesty, you like staying over at jungkook’s more. his smell evokes the sentiment of home, and when you stay long enough, it becomes a temporary part of you. you’re gradually more well-versed in the organized and unorganized corners of his room. you like that you know where he keeps the safety pins and you know to be careful when walking so you won’t trip over his dumbbells he leaves lying around. and it’s a little ridiculous but… you like that his mattress is on the floor and you don’t really know why.

your boyfriend is still blissfully asleep as you climb over him, landing on the floor without a sound like a veteran spy. however, you rush to step out of the room before the rumbling of your empty stomach could wake him up.

“yah, thief! what do you think you’re doing?!”

“fuck!” the pack of ramen hits the floor when your hands fly to your chest to clutch at your painfully pounding heart. “i swear to god, you’re going to kill me one day!”

and unsurprisingly, your chagrin is countered yet again with jimin’s all too pleased laughter.

“____, you look so suspicious! why are you using a flashlight? we have electricity! we can pay for it!”

“i don’t like it too bright, okay?” you grumble as you pick up your supposed midnight meal.

“let’s just turn on this one then.”

“uh-” the objection dies down in your throat when the light over the dining table was switched on.

“i’m hungry, too. grab two more packs of ramyeon, please.”

“who’s the other one for?”

jimin fills the pot with water from the sink while you pick up two more of the same pack from the pantry.

“just us. don’t you agree that one pack is too small for one person?”

“it’s just enough for me though?” you rip open the packs one by one to retrieve the packets of seasonings. “with your job, though, i’d definitely have a bigger appetite.”

“alright,” he pouts, pretending to be upset. “let’s have just two then.”

“no, no, no-” you chase his hand, tightly gripping the last pack that he stole. “let’s have three! let’s have three! i didn’t eat dinner!”

—

“my mom brought a lot of kimchi yesterday. there’s an entire box in the fridge. i’ll pack you some before you leave later.”

“put some more in,” you say cutely as you peer down at the pot of ramen beside jimin. “please?”

he chuckles, adhering to your request before handing the container to you.

“thank you!”

you hop on the counter infront of the stove, chewing on a mouthful of kimchi with a joy akin to a child receiving a sweet treat. leaving the ramen to cook for the next five minutes, jimin sits a few feet away.

“aigoo, are you that hungry?”

“this is so delicious!” you praise his mother’s cooking instead of answering the question. “i can really eat this on its own.”

“ey, don’t fill yourself up yet! we have a lot of ramyeon to eat!”

“sorry, sorry!”

your giggles fill the apartment with warmth during this freezing winter. jimin didn’t doubt it when jungkook said that you light up every room you enter, he just didn’t expect that he would also gain a friend.

“how’s your cheek?”

“as you can see,” you motion at your face. “yellow. soooo… uglier.”

“that means it’s healing well.”

“i know,” the apples of your cheek become plump as your lips curve. “it no longer hurts to smile.”

“that’s a relief to hear,” he returns your kind smile. “jungkook has been worried about you.”

that’s the end of what he can tell you. jungkook won’t be pleased if you learn that he cried when he talked about the horrible thing that happened to you.

“thank you,”

“huh? for what?”

“being jungkook’s happiness.”

from his peripheral vision, he perceives your surprise. however, he is too flustered to meet your eyes while he is speaking from the bottom of his heart.

“the past year was physically and mentally draining for the team. as you know, we… we were considering giving up and disbanding. and of course it’s hard on all of us, but i’m really, really worried about jungkook. but!”

he chuckles at the dramatic rise of his own voice.

“i’m less worried now that you’re in his life. and i’m not saying this to put pressure on you or anything! but you see, when he’s tired, he bounces back quickly because of you. he’s smiling more because of you. and i know it goes it also goes the other way around. mhmm… i-i guess what i’m saying is that i hope you can continue being each other’s strength? be each other’s cheerleader?”

you have begun to feel emotional as you listened to his sincere and heartwarming words, but you can’t help but to cackle at the fact that you just witnessed the park jimin say the word ‘cheerleader’ while daintily waving his hands around as they were holding pompoms. how awfully endearing.

“…or something like that.”

uncontrollable giggles vibrate his body, dramatically slipping down the counter and onto the tiled floor to enshroud himself in extreme sheepishness.

“ah, ____! this is driving me crazy! don’t laugh!”

“what are you doing lying on the floor?” you playfully scold him, recording with your phone in secret. “why do i suddenly feel like the older one?”

“what’s with the noise?”

you whip your head around, wide curious eyes greeted with a shirtless jungkook who is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“is that ramyeon…? i want some too.”

jimin groans when he feels your foot poke him lightly.

“mister, can we add more? my googie is hungry too.”

—

“hyung, ____ told me something recently that really put a lot of things into perspective.”

and with that, jimin pours another bottle of beer in his and jungkook’s ice-filled mugs. “let me hear it.”

“if you intend to be with me for a long time, then i need you to need to know. at first i didn’t understand what it meant? then after we talked, something clicked for me. ahhh, i see it now. ____ didn’t want us to trust each other blindly… because that… that isn’t a good… foundation? for something that i want to last for a very long time. you, me, the members… don’t we all trust each other because we know that we’re good people to our core and we’re good at what we do? isn’t that why we have come this far, and why we keep going? besides army, of course!”

jimin blinks lazily, glossy eyes from the alcohol underneath it all. “that’s right. we wouldn’t have started this anyway… without that kind of trust. i don’t think it’s a connection you can just build with anyone too.”

“oh, that’s it. that’s right!”

“living together for a long time doesn’t guarantee it.”

“exactly.” jungkook nods repeatedly, probably too passionately, a guaranteed ticket for a hangover later on. “we talked about that last time too.”

“right? so we should protect it�� maintain it… never lose sight of our purpose…”

the lack of words that follow does not equate to silence. glasses clink against each other and teeth rip bags of chips open and noodles are slurped. they’re overseas and they can’t go to a korean restaurant and grill their own meat. the hotel steak would take forever to arrive and quite frankly, they had it yesterday and it was not good. this is not exactly ideal, but it has its own charm.

jungkook takes another swig of the bittersweet alcohol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand afterwards.

“____ has become an important part of my life that i would do anything to protect too. how do i say it…?” he exhales to relieve the heavy weight on his chest. “i feel like i gained more purpose in life, hyung… to be honest, i might have a harder time because of that. i know it but… i’m happy. seriously, i’m happy.”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

[middlepartmatt]

after party. . . 𖥔 ݁ ᥫ᭡

❝ so i love when you call unexpected, 'cause i hate when the moment's expected. so i'ma care for you, you, you ❞ — earned it, the weeknd

you and chris have been best friends since childhood, and nothing more. that is, until one night you are the last two people awake after a party and you're both in the mood for something more.

WARNINGS: smut, switch!chris, player!chris, switch!reader, oral (m & f receiving), grinding, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (fem!oc is on the pill)

it's currently 4:30 am, and the party has long since died down. everybody left about two hours ago when the police showed up and kicked out all of the guests because of noise complaints, but the group had decided to stay awake and talk for an hour until nick complained he was tired, and everybody else mumbled in agreement. they're all asleep now, besides you and chris, the only two left downstairs.

you're bored out of your mind, sitting and staring mindlessly at the wall while chris scrolls on his phone. your eyes unwillingly drift over to him, your gaze comfortably settling on him on the other side of the couch. he's wearing grey sweatpants and a basic white tee, his hair messy and covering his eyes slightly where it's hanging over his forehead. you hate the feeling you get deep in youe stomach as you look at him, illuminated only by a few candles and the light from his phone screen. 

like he can feel your eyes on him, chris then puts down his phone and turns to look at you. his blue eyes seem muted and sleepy, though there's a glint in them you can't seem to ignore.

"wanna watch a movie?" he suggests, and you just nod. he picks up the remote and begins scrolling through netflix. despite yourself, you study him closely as he looks through the plethora of movies available for the two of you to watch. you suddenly feel the room getting warmer and push the fluffy blanket off of yourself.

chris settles on a movie, not bothering to ask you if you even want to watch it on before the opening credits begin playing. you lean back against the couch, occasionally finding yourself glancing over at chris to see his reaction to the movie. Though his face remains the same, barely even showing any signs of amusement. it's almost like his mind is completely elsewhere.

so is yours, clearly, as he's all you can focus on.

you roll your eyes at yourself and decide to start actually watching the movie. it's a stupid comedy with a bunch of dumb scenes and even worse jokes, though you find yourself amused all the same. 

"this movie is so dumb," you chuckle, and chris turns around to see you, a smile on his face. 

"can't be that bad if you're laughing," he replies quickly, and you kiss your teeth. his eyes remain locked with yours and you suddenly feel nervous, so you decide to look away. you pick up your glass and take a sip of water, before leaning back with the glass still in your hand.

"well anyway, you must be disappointed about tonight," you say to chris, who raises an eyebrow. 

"what do you mean?" he asks quietly. 

"come on, chris," you says, rolling your eyes. "i think tonight's the first time you've been at a party and not had your tongue down some girl's throat at least once." 

he furrows his eyebrows and presses his lips together.

"maybe i didn't want to," he says quietly, like he's contemplating something. it irks you though, because you realize it's the first time you've struggled to figure him out. as his best friend, you can always tell what he's thinking, but tonight has been impossible. 

"or maybe all of the girls at school have finally realized how ugly you are," you say, your voice laced with sarcasm. chris scoffs loudly, like it's the most outrageous thing he's ever heard. 

but then, all of a sudden, he twists in your direction and places his hands on your waist, pulling you onto his lap. chris' grip tightens, fingers brushing against your skin as he sits you down onto his crotch. your smile falls, and chris grins as he leans closer and whispers into your ear: "maybe this is what i was waiting for."

you tense, barely able to move or even think as you register what is currently happening.

"that's funny," you reply, your words coming out weaker and quieter than you wanted.

"almost as funny as you trying to convince yourself you don't want this," chris replies instantly, as if without a thought.

the movie continues playing in the background, but neither of you are paying it any attention whatsoever. chris is just looking at you, his hands still firmly planted on your waist. every single word has left your mind.

"if you hate this, you can always leave," he shrugs, leaning back but keeping his hands exactly where they are. you could slap him for saying something like that when you're literally sitting on his lap and can barely even think because of it.

when you doesn't speak again, chris just continues: "last chance, baby," he says softly.

you don't want to leave. heat rises to your cheeks, and his eyes darken as he looks down at you.

"i'm not going anywhere," you whisper, and chris immediately grins before leaning forward to kiss you. he's needy with it, as if he's wanted this for a long while.

he kisses you slowly, deeply, his lips pressing hard against yours as he reaches around your waist to pull you closer to him. you return the gesture, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him even closer to you, to which chris responds by smiling against your lips. 

from there, your hands move to his neck, your skin burning hot against his as you moves further upwards, running your fingers through his hair. as you do so, chris pulls away slightly, his chest moving up and down as he breathes heavily. 

"fuck, you can't-" he pants, but you cuts him off. 

"can't what?" you grin, and he presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek, almost in disbelief at your words. his hands then trail upwards from your waist to rest on your neck, right as he leans forward to kiss you again. 

you kiss him back, your lips moving in sync with each other. your mind swirls with a million thoughts; you're now realizing how badly you want this and the fact that you've wanted it for a long while.

chris leans back against the couch again, you leaning forward to deepen the kiss, your breath hitching slightly as he puts his hands on your waist once more. throughout the kiss, he fiddles with the hem of your tank top, his fingers brushing lightly against you skin, making your heart beat even faster. 

you decide that enough is enough and if he's going to mess with you like this, then you're allowed to do the same. his hands are still on your hips as you brings your hands back up to run through his hair, feeling the softness of it against your fingers. 

chris uses his hands to pull you closer, and you can feel your body responding to his actions as you kiss him harder. you practically melt into him as your hands now find their place on his neck by his collarbone. unable to stop yourself, you tug his bottom lip between your teeth before kissing him again. chris chuckles mid-kiss, and you're struggling to believe that this is actually currently happening. 

your thoughts immediately disappear when you feels his erection pressing against your core, and you can't help the grin that forms on your lips. you press herself against him, rubbing your body against his, feeling his cock throbbing against your skin.

chris groans in response and bites your lip. you feel his hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing gently. then he lifts you slightly so that he can sit up straighter, with you still straddling his lap.

you rub your pussy along his cock through his pants, and he whimpers softly. you slip your hand inside his pants and finds his hard cock, stroking it slowly.

"fuck," chris grits out, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

"yeah?" you hum in response, reeling in the way he throws his head back against the couch cushion just at the sound of your voice. "you like that?"

he nods and arches his hips upward, grinding against your hand. "love it," he breathes, and you laugh softly and kiss him again, still stroking him.

you pull away from the kiss and slide off of him. chris sits up and reaches for you, but you shake your head. you first pulls his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side before leaning forward and kissing him again.

chris moans into your mouth, his hands sliding down your sides to your hips. he lifts you slightly so that he can pull your shirt up and off of your torso.

you shiver as his fingers brush against your bare stomach. you gasp softly as he kisses your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin.

before he can do anything else, you quickly move away and bend down, your eye level the same as his knees. his hard cock is bulging out of his boxers, and chris looks down at you longingly.

"touch me, love, please," he begs. you grab his boxers by the waistband and pull them down, revealing his throbbing cock. you smile at him wickedly and drop to your knees, taking him into your warm mouth.

"fuck," chris repeats, looking up at the ceiling. "oh god, yes."

he moans loudly and closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of your plump lips wrapped around him. you begin to move your head back and forth, tongue swirling around his dick. you moan softly as you suck him, your hand moving up and down his length. you glance up at him and see him watching you, his hands gripping the couch cushions tightly.

you use your hand to stroke him gently while you suck his dick. you love the sounds he makes, and you moan softly every time you take him into your mouth. chris groans at the vibrations and runs his fingers through your hair, pushing you closer to him. you moan and take him deeper into your throat, your nose pressed against his stomach. he lets out a shaky breath and pushes your head further onto him. you let out a surprised sound when you feels him hit the back of your throat.

you gag slightly and pull back a little bit, but chris holds your head there, his fingers tangling in your hair. he moans loudly and continues to fuck your face, his fingers digging into your scalp. you moan, other hand gripping his thigh as you try not to gag. throughout all of this, you feel yourself getting wetter with each thrust of his cock into your mouth, desperate for some sort of relief.

you whimper, loving how he makes you feel. chris moans and leans back, his cock twitching as he cums into your mouth. you swallow it all, before your eyes widen in surprise as he pulls you up off of him. chris smiles and pulls you close, kissing you hard.

he pulls away before grinning: "your turn, beautiful."

chris pushes you back against the couch, so that you're laying down before him.

he kneels between your legs and pulls your skirt up, revealing your white lace panties. chris smiles and slides his hand into your panties, feeling your wetness.

"so wet," he muses. "and it's all for me."

"all for you, asshole," you reply breathlessly, barely able to think straight. he moans softly at you being his, and slides his fingers along your slit, teasing you. he pulls your panties to the side and finally slides his fingers inside you, finding your clit instantly.

he rubs it slowly, smirking as you moan softly. he slides two fingers into your tight pussy and starts pumping in and out. you release a short whimper and bite your lip, closing your eyes. chris smirks and slides a third finger inside you, making you moan louder this time. he continues to finger you and rub your clit, and your body starts to shake.

"woah, calm down, baby," he murmurs. "i've only just got started with you." his words alone make you even wetter, if that's even possible. your legs spread wider for him and he moans as he slides a fourth finger inside you, stretching you wide open. you cry out, thighs clenching together.

chris then pulls his fingers out of you and licks them clean, before leaning down and sliding his tongue along your slit. you moan and now spread your legs wider, so desperate for his touch. he sucks on your clit gently, and you writhe, unable to control yourself. 

"chris, stop," you manage. "if you keep going, i'm gonna-"

chris suddenly stops then, and stands up, pulling your panties back over your wet pussy. your eyes widen as you're left lying there, longing for his touch. 

"chris," you plead. "c'mon, please."

he grins at your desperate state, a cocky smile playing on his lips. 

"what was that?" he teases. "say it again, baby, i couldn't hear you."

"fuck you, chris," you say, your voice strained as you press your legs together for any sort of friction.

"i thought you'd never ask," chris grins, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. he kisses you hard, then slides his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. you moan into his mouth and try to pull away from him, but he holds you tight, pressing himself against you. 

his tip grazes you soaking pussy softly, and you spread your legs wider for him, looking up at him pleadingly. you moan and push your hips towards him, begging him to enter you. he smiles and eases his cock into you, making you gasp. he groans and slowly slides his cock further into your tight pussy, filling you up completely.

"you're so fucking hot," chris whispers, grinning. moans leave his mouth as he begins thrusting in and out of you, fucking you hard. you groan and grind against him, your pussy throbbing. you arch your back, needing even more of him.

your body trembles as his thrusts get faster, more out of control. you bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out. 

"i like it when you're noisy," chris tells you then.

"chris," you whimper, unable to comprehend any other words, though he moans as you say his name. with his every thrust you get closer to tipping over the edge, your groans growing louder with every movement.

your body shakes, your pussy pulsing around his cock. chris doesn't stop though, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your lips. 

"cum for me, baby."

you do as he says, letting out a moan as his cock hits the back of you one last time. you hold him tightly, your nails dragging sharply down his back, though chris doesn't mind. he loves seeing you unravel like this in front of him, knowing it's all his doing.

"good girl," he whispers into your ear.

"your turn," you whisper back, suddenly grabbing his hips and thrusting yourself onto him one more time. chris throws his head back, groaning as he finishes. 

he pulls out of you, looking down at you, his best friend, with a smile on his face.

"bet no one else has ever made you moan like that before, huh?" he grins smugly. you bite your lip, shaking you head. "thought so."

"shut up," you reply, getting up from the couch and reaching out for his hand. "we should get cleaned up," you tell him.

"if you wanna have shower sex, you can just say so," chris shrugs, and despite yourself, blush forms on your cheeks.

"i'll take that as a yes," he continues, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. . . i am a y/n hater for life you will never catch me using that lol

[flibbetygibbetsbro]

Kay so I already posted this a month or so ago, but I find it very applicable to the fandom rn

The lore in Nightfall is actually insane. You're telling me that hundreds of humans went missing, and when the Elvin Leadership did NOTHING the humans revolted so hard-core that ya'll really had to DISSAPERE from their knowledge? "But it was to keep the peace!"

Nuh uh.

If you REALLY wanted peace you would have actually looked into the disappearances. That would have been waaay easier to pull off than erasing hundreds of minds and flibbety-dippen SINKING an entire city into the ocean. Despite Elven egos, I think that the council got scared. That's right. The humans you call dumb and violent SCARED you into hiding.  We ugly, weak, and untalented things decided enough was enough and you couldn't handle it.

What's extra crazy is the fact that the Elvin world has everything in their pockets OTHER THAN THE HUMANS. You're telling me that we idiots rule the Earth while you lock yourselves and others away? 

An even crazier thing is that Elves view themselves above everything, even if they won't admit it at the get-go. Ogres really are pissed about it. They are CRAZY strong but also incredibly intelligent. The average elf understands nothing about Biochemistry (other than extreme exceptions such as Lady Candace) yet Ogres have things that can wipe out entire species and put Elves in endless comas. "But the Neverseen used the sedative so they understand it!"

Nuh uh.

They stole the research from the Ogre scientists. (Or made a deal with the king I honestly don't remember at this point). They NEVER would have pulled that off without them. And guess what? Ogres are a generally violent species as well but the Elves keep them around. (Albeit on a short leash). 

The humans have a similar situation. Many times in the books a human story, invention, or belief is brought up only for someone to smugly say "They get that from us", or "he was inspired by ME". I believe there was also a scene where someone talks about how human "help" organizations were terminated because the information shared with them led to dangerous inventions. Don't you guys just love it when Elves claim credit for all good ever done by humans? But as soon as a nuclear power plant or bomb is mentioned (crazy complicated crap) it's suddenly the nasty humans and their dumb, violent minds. *insert eye-roll* Which is it? Are we smart or dumb? Are WE responsible or are YOU? Ya'll can't cherry-pick. Elves also pretend that they have control over humans, yet you can't stop an invention from destroying a Japanese City and ending a devastating war that killed more Jews than the average Elf could comprehend? If humans are so terrible, THEN WHY HAVEN’T YOU STOPPED US YET? WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL US WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE? oh that's right, you're too scared.

My final thought: The fact that HUMANS are what Vespera chose to "study". Why not Ogres or Trolls? Were humans the easier target, or was there some other reason? The fact of the matter is that Humans and Elves are more similar than either of us would like to admit. Ogre's minds are too different than an Elf's. Human minds are only different in the sense of how loud they are.  In fact, that's arguably the most important difference between us. We humans are loud, we feel intensely and love like nothing Elves would understand. For we love for our short lives while they wander on for eternity. The only reason we can handle violence is because we have to fend for ourselves. Elves have protectors and little green people to do their dirty work. Humans have to live through thick and thin, slavery, war, loss, and heartbreak. When Elvin minds shatter, our minds find ways to make it through. Lose someone? We make up afterlife after afterlife and history shows different religions arising when the general public needs a way to work through their violent and tiring lives. But maybe we AREN’T so different. The characters presented as able to handle violence/are inclined to it either had to suffer violence and neglect, lived through endless years of times before the treaties and the council, or spent time with humans. Take Fitz as a prime example. Bro legit beat the shit out of Alvar and trapped him in goo to die. NOTHING IN THE BOOKS SHOWS FITZ FEELING ANY GUILT FOR THIS. Hm...seems like a very "human" thing to do.

The real reason Elves fear us is because we're just an untethered form of themselves with shorter life spans and a lot less to lose. We feel more deeply, more “violently”. As the books go on the Council itself is presented in a more kick-butt way as they finally step up to Vespera and the horrors she caused. 

That sounds a lot like The Humans of Atlantice.

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 31]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

With the main title song completed and approved, the Ateez boys had been busy learning the choreography and practicing. You were working with the other producers on the other songs that would be in the album too.

"Before I go, Indigo. I wanted to speak to you." Eden said. You turned away from your computer to face him.

"So I am aware that you have been in a relationship with Mingi for a while now." He stated. At his words, your stomach sank and your heart stopped.

"I-I... I'm so sorry, Eden." You shook your head, standing up and bow repeatedly to him.

"There's no need to apologise, Indigo." Eden said. You still didn't feel calmed down, looking at the conflicted look on his face.

"As a friend, I congratulate the both of you. But as your senior... I would caution the both of you to be careful with how you act around each other in the presence of others." Eden advised.

"We will be more careful, Eden." You promised.

"With the comeback coming up and you just starting your career outside of the underground scene and you know Mingi had some heat for taking a few breaks, I would hate for things to get ugly and out of hand. If you know what I mean..." He hinted. You nodded, fully aware of what he meant without him needing to say it.

"Ateez doesn't have a dating ban. From the start, it was always established by the management but you know how scary some fans can be." He said.

"No matter what, I would always put Mingi before myself. As long as he is safe and unharmed, I will take the heat for it." You said with determination. Eden gave a nod.

"I won't tell the management. It's not my place to tell." Eden sighed.

"Thank you." You bowed. You didn't bother asking Eden how he knew because it didn't matter to you at this point, he already knew.

"But you do know that when it comes down to it, the company has to choose to protect their artist." He said. That was fine, in fact, you would prefer them to protect Ateez and Mingi over you.

"Of course I hope it doesn't get to that point. You have a really bright future and career as a producer Indigo. I would hate for you to disappear underground again. There's so much more you can do above ground." He chuckled.

"Thank you for saying that. I won't let it get to that point, I promise. For Ateez and Mingi's safety and career. They've been through too much to be scrutinised again." You said.

"You're really selfless, Indigo. Willing to forgo your career for them." He raised an eyebrow.

"That's what love does, I guess. Not just between Mingi and I but with all the Ateez boys. They grow on you." You giggled.

"I understand that." He nodded, having ben there.

"Plus, Mingi's been happier. You can tell when you look at him and work with him. He's more productive and more positive, in terms of his anxiety too." He smiled.

"That's all him. It has nothing to do with me." You shook your head, not wanting to take any of that credit away from Mingi. Even if Eden disagreed, he didn't correct you. He merely nodded his head.

"Alright, that's the busy work senior side. But as a friend, I'm happy for you and Mingi. Congratulations." Eden chuckled, standing up to give you a hug. You laughed along and wrapped your arms around him. When he moved to leave your studio and let you get back to work, you stopped him.

"Actually, there's something else I need to talk to you about..." You chewed on your bottom lip.

Mingi yawned, coming out of his room. He massaged his shoulder as he walked to the kitchen, feeling the ache from the long hours of dance practice.

"Captain." Mingi bowed his head, acknowledging the male.

"Mingi ah..." Hongjoong started. Mingi hummed in question as he faced the fridge, looking for a cold drink.

"Eden knows about you and Indigo..." Mingi stopped at Hongjoong's words. His eyes widened as he closed the fridge and turned around to face him properly.

"What did you say?" Mingi asked, hoping he heard wrongly.

"Eden knows about your relationship. I'm giving you a heads up. I told you two to be more careful." Hongjoong frowned slightly. He didn't want to lecture Mingi for being physical with you when you were dating but he was the leader of the group, he had to think about how this would affect everyone.

"We are careful, hyung. Indigo sets very strict boundaries when we're at work." Mingi argued.

"Well, you were obviously not careful enough for people outside the group to now know." Hongjoong pointed out. There was no point in arguing when it was the truth.

"Is he going to tell?" He cast Hongjoong a side glance.

"No, he won't. But he asked me if I knew and how long have I known." Hongjoong crossed his arms. Mingi let out a sigh of relief.

"But we don't have a dating ban, hyung. The fans knew that since we debuted and would expect it, sooner or later. It could be any one of us." Mingi reasoned.

"Yes, they may expect it. But that doesn't mean they will react well to it. We're talking about safety here, Mingi ah. Not just yours but Indigo's, Haneul's, your family's, even the rest of the other members." Hongjoong said.

"I'm only saying this because I want to know if you and Indigo are prepared." Hongjoong sighed.

"Prepared for?" Mingi asked quizically.

"The worst. If the company finds out and when the fans find out. What sacrifices are you going to make? Where do your priorities lie? Where does Indigo play into all this?" He explained.

"Whatever it is, Indigo is my priority. I promised her that I'll keep her and Haneul safe. That's the bottom line." Mingi said firmly.

"I won't let all this harm the members, hyung. If anything happens, this is all on me and me only. I'll take whatever blame and responsibility." He added.

"Let's hope it doesn't get to that point then." Hongjoong looked at Mingi with knowing eyes.

The captain didn't say much more and left the kitchen. While he was proud of Mingi for being courageous and putting you before himself and his career, Hongjoong was worried. He treasured the both of you like his younger siblings, he wouldn't want to lose any of you because of a scandal like this.

"Mingi ah. You okay?" Yunho, having heard the whole conversation, emerged from behind the wall.

"Mhmm. I'm fine." Mingi lied through his teeth. He clenched his jaw, turning around to face the fridge, stoically getting an iced coffee out to drink.

"You know Hongjoong hyung is worried about both you and Indigo. It's hard for him." Yunho said. Mingi nodded glumly.

"We're with you. Whatever you need." Yunho reminded.

"Thanks, Yun." Mingi gave a nod.

"I'm going to call her and tell her. If Eden hyung hasn't spoken to her, she should at least know that he knows and be prepared for it." Mingi stated and walked out of the kitchen.

Yunho looked at Mingi's retreating back. He was worried for his best friend. Mingi has become genuinely happier after being with you. But if your relationship were to get out, the whole group would suffer with the two of you suffering the most.

"Hey. Can you talk?" Mingi pressed the phone to his ear.

"Yeah... I was actually just about to call you but I got held up at my meeting." From the tone of your voice, Mingi already knew that you knew.

"I'm guessing Eden already spoke to you?" He asked. There was a short pause before the sigh and the hum from you.

"Are you okay?" He asked further.

"I am. Don't worry. We just have to be more careful in the future. And Eden said he's not going to tell the management. We can't let things get out of hand." You were trying to sound calm and positive.

"How much more careful can we be? I already barely see you and we work in the same building." Mingi openly expressed his frustration.

"I know that. We don't have a choice now, do we, Mings? We're lucky that it's Eden this time, someone we're both close to. Had it been another staff member we're not familiar with, who knows what they could do? Them telling the management would be the least of our worries at that point."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Mingi sighed.

"No need to be sorry, Mings. We're both scared but it's going to be okay. We'll be okay." You promised. Mingi hated that you had to calm him down when you were probably feeling the same way as him.

"We'll work together. Just please... Please don't leave me." Mingi caved and let his real fear show.

"I won't, Mings."

"Okay, I'll let you go back to work. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. I'll see you tonight?" He said. Mingi was going to come over when his practice ended.

"Sure. And thanks for checking in, I'm glad we talked right away. Yes, I'll see you after your practice tonight."

"I love you." Mingi blurted.

"I love you too." You chuckled and hung up.

Mingi dropped onto his bed as he stared at the ceiling. He turned his head to see the photo of you on his nightstand. You didn't know he had this photo because he had taken it secretly. You were looking out the window with a soft smile on your face.

"Beautiful." Mingi said softly, a small smile of adoration appearing on his face. He was worried you would run away because he wanted to run away. But he couldn't do that to you and the others.

"Everyone get ready for practice!" Hongjoong's yelling sounded out through the dorm.

"I'll see you later." Mingi kissed the photo and went to change.

"I'm pumped and ready!" Wooyoung jumped up and down. From the demeanour and behaviour of the others, Mingi's guessing that they don't know what happened.

"I think Atiny will like the songs and dance." Yeosang smiled.

"And we have two songs! One title and one performance song. Double kill." San made slicing actions with his hands.

"Of course they will like it. This song was made by the amazing brain of Producer Indigo." Jongho scoffed. Once everyone was accounted for, Hongjoong ushered everyone out. They climbed into their vans, driven by their managers. Mingi put his AirPods in, keeping his cap low as he let the music drown out his thoughts.

"I miss Indigo. We've all been so busy, we work in the same building but it's like two separate countries." Wooyoung shook his head with a click of his tongue.

"Mangi ah. Have you seen her recently? Or spoken to her?" Wooyoung sat up in his seat.

"I haven't seen her. We called but she's busy and we don't want to disturb each other." Mingi replied. Seeing Mingi put his AirPod back on, Wooyoung nudged Yunho and threw a nod over to Mingi.

"He was up working on lyrics so he's tired." Yunho smoothly lied.

"Juggling producing and performing is not easy." San shook his head, looking at Mingi with sympathy.

When the vans pulled up, the boys all stepped out. They piled into the lift and headed up to the dance studio. While waiting for their choreography team, they spread apart to start warming up on their own. When the door opened, their CEO walked in.

"CEO Kim." All 8 of them stood up, going to where he was at the doorway and standing in a line to bow to him. The suited male smiled at the 8 of them.

"Hello, boys. Working hard on your comeback?" He asked.

"Yes." The 8 of them chimed. It was like they were all trainees, waiting to impress for the chance to debut.

"Good, good. I know all of you are hard workers. Indigo has proven to be an asset to the producing team." He nodded. Mingi couldn't help but stiffen when he mentioned you.

"Are you doing okay, Mingi?" He asked.

"Y-Yes, sir. I'm okay, thank you for your concern." Mingi bowed his head.

"That's good to hear. Ateez is the best when we have all 8 of you together." He said. Everyone nodded in agreement while Mingi let out a mental sigh of relief, the CEO hadn't noticed his slight reaction and was only referring to the break Mingi took from group activities because of his anxiety.

"Anyway, I just dropped by to say hello and see how you guys were coming along with practice. I'm going to meet with the producing team now. All the best boys." CEO Kim explained.

"Thank you." The 8 of them all bowed to him again.

"Thank you for dropping by, sir." Hongjoong stepped forward and shook his hand. Giving the captain a pat on the shoulder, the CEO left the practice studio.

"The CEO seems to like Indigo. That's good." Seonghwa smiled like a proud mother.

"Hyung, you look like a proud parent." Wooyoung snickered.

"I feel like one. Knowing that my child just got praised." Seonghwa clutched his heart, closing his eyes dramatically. They all continued warming up until the choreographer and his team came.

"Please take care of us." The 8 of them bowed.

"Likewise. Thank you for all the hard work you've been putting in everyone. Let's have another safe and productive dance practice session." The choreographer smile and everyone clapped, nodding in agreement. They picked up from where they left off.

You were working on the music tracks when your doorbell rang. You paused the music and stood up, going to the door. Your eyes widened when you saw the CEO and Eden there.

"CEO Kim." You immediately bowed deeply to greet him. In reality, your heart was pounding in your chest. Did he find out?

"Hi, Indigo. I just came to see how the progress of the tracks are." He smiled kindly.

"Oh, yes! Please, come in." You stepped aside to invite them in. As he walked past you, Eden squeezed your shoulder, a signal for you to breathe and calm down.

"So the title track is done. Which is the choreography that the group is learning now. We're finishing up the performance track and we should be done within the next 3 days." You explained.

"Okay. What about the b-side tracks? I want the b-side tracks to be just as good as the titles." He said.

"Of course, sir. I completely understand. We're still working on the editing for the b-side tracks. We just got the raw vocals for track 7 and will work on it to get it done as soon as possible." You said. You were glad you wore your mask now so that it could hide your nervous, fearful expression.

"Alright. Good to see the tracks coming along well and on schedule. You really impressed me and the board with your track submissions. Eden did a good job bringing you in." He complimented.

"Ah, thank you." You bowed awkwardly.

"Would you consider signing on full time as a producer here? I think you have a lot to offer." He asked.

"I-I... I appreciate you thinking so highly of me, sir. If it's okay with you, I would like to just focus on this comeback first before deciding anything." You rubbed the back of your neck.

"That's a good mindset. I hope you will consider that as an option. Terms and conditions are flexible. We'll protect your identity if necessary." He promised.

"I'll keep that in mind, sir. Thank you."

"Yes, we'll definitely speak again after the comeback." He patted your shoulder. You nodded with a meek smile.

"Make sure to give the names of the members that worked on the tracks to the marketing and promotion department. The fans like seeing that, shows that the boys are a part of the writing and producing process." CEO Kim said to you and Eden.

"Of course." You both replied.

"I won't hold you for too long. It was nice speaking with you, Indigo. I wish you all the best and thank you for working hard on this comeback." He held his hand out to shake.

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity and for putting so much trust in me." You shook his hand.

"Let's discuss more in your office, Eden." He turned to your senior. You walked the both of them to the door, bowing once again.

"Oh my gosh..." You leaned back against the closed door, sliding down from your legs just completely giving out. You let out a shaky breath, finally breathing normally again.

After working for a few more hours, you took a bus home. You made a really quick and simple dinner, setting aside a portion under some covers for Mingi to have in case he was hungry later. With music playing in the background, you ate your dinner and went to take a quick shower.

'Hey, baby. Sorry, I'm running a little late. Don't wait up! - Mings'

Seeing the message from him, you turned off the lights outside and went to your home studio to work.

'Thank you for your revised track for the OST. We will create the lyrics and discuss on the singer that will perform the track. If you have any recommendations, please let us know.

- Representative'

You leaned back in your chair and smiled happily, proud that they finally approve of the OST track. You did some light work until you felt tired. Honestly, you did want to wait for Mingi, to welcome him and hug him.

"Ateez... Mingi fancam." You searched on your phone and watched a compilation of Mingi on stage to try to keep yourself awake.

"Baby? I'm here." Mingi called out softly when he entered the house. He spoke softly, worried that you would be asleep already. The house was dark, except for one kitchen light you left on.

'Didn't know if you had dinner but I prepared something for you. I know you're watching your carbs so I put the meat in lettuce wraps instead. - Love, (y/n)'

Mingi melted at your note. He folded it carefully and tucked it into his bag, not wanting to lose it.

"Fix on!" Mingi heard his own voice coming from the bedroom and walked in to find you asleep. You were holding your phone.

"What's this?" He tilted his head to watch the video playing on your phone.

'Mingi Fancam Compilation #4'

He cupped his hand over his mouth to stop his laughter from escaping and waking you up. This really made his day, all the tiredness just dissipated. Mingi actually left the room to laugh in the living room on his own. Why did he think it was so endearing of you to watch videos of him when he wasn't around?

"I love you so much." Mingi leaned over you to kiss your forehead. He gently removed the phone from your grasp and charged it on your nightstand before going to shower.

~

Series Masterlist

[persy-r-bozo]

My Moms Adventures with Dhmis-

i Was talking to a friend today and i suddenly remembered that a few years ago i made my mom watch Dhmis (Web) with me. before i was even half confident to even make a tumblr account.

And then i realized that Dhmis tumblr would maybe get a giggle from this.

i was wondering if i should tell this. then i remebered my mom shares silly story's about me on her facebook. so this is revenge of the silly stories now. so here we go.

-From what i remember-

CREATIVITY: is when I realized that she was probably the Key demographic Becky and joe were going for tbh. She went from "This is weird.." to "This is weird in a fun way!" to " D: " Real quick. it was like those fake reaction channels from 2014 but in real life. it was crazy.

TIME: She got suspicious of tony real fast. She Also gave Roy a face that i could only describe as a face you'd give someone before crossing the road to avoid them. also!- She isn't a big fan of the trio. she found them creepy, she feels bad for them! but she also wouldn't get within 30 feet of them either.

LOVE: Guys lemme tell you. SHE IS SHRIGOLDS #1 HATER She hated him the moment he flew on screen. She was cussing him out and giving him the stink eye every time he spoke. She still talks about how much she hates "The creepy ass butterfly" to this day

COMPUTERS: She was jamming on the computer song fr. cant blame her it is in fact a banger. like she was worryingly looking at the screen while also bopping her head along. and when reds head exploded she froze and said "DID HE JUST FUCKING DIE!!!?" in the same vain as marks "WAS THAT THE BITE OF 87!!!?"

HEALTHY: She was confused and quiet most of the time here till THE SCENE. where she openly gasped and went "whhhAAAAAATT THE FUCK!!??????????" Jaw AGAPE, Eyebrows FURROWED. and then the end scene, She put her hand over her mouth and watched red walk away from the phone as the credits rolled and- "HE ATE HIS FRIEND??? WHY?" "They forced him too" "HUH? WHAT? THEY FORCED HIM TOO EAT HIS FRIEND? HIS FRIEND IS EATEN! ATE! GONE!" if DHMIS is mentioned in any conversation her first words will always be "THEY MADE HIM EAT HIS FRIEND!!!" Even is she hears it across the room. she will yell it.

it happened a few days ago actually! in the car.

"They made him eat his friend!!"

DREAMS: She was still in shock over duck getting canned. she was the most confused by the surrealism of dreams. Common questions from this episode "So is the bird dead dead? or dead like the clock made them dead?" "Is the mop in the real world? or a mop man world?" and "Why is he (Yellow guy) So upset?"

My answers: "I don't know. its kinda up to the viewer" "I don't know. its kinda up to the viewer" "safe to assume he's having a rough day."

Anyways, when red started pushing buttons and all the old teachers popped up it was "No! there all awful!" then shrigold popped up for a sec and. as said before - she's shrigolds #1 hater- so it was "NO! GET THAT BITCH OUT OF HERE!!" And she was quiet, making concerned faces at Roy. Confused face at the end. and shocked silence as the credits rolled.

Her final thoughts: "It was interesting to say the least, not my full cup of tea but i can understand why you like it, its very artsy and weird and speaks to you in that way. . Its like visual artists version of going to a underground concerts mosh pit, Crazy yet exhilarating. you never know what's going to happen next!

Tv Show?: she wants to see it but at the same time doesn't, Its an odd limbo. and she doesn't have a VPN. so she's going to hold off till further notice.

Funny names for characters she has.-

(Yellow)" Yellow Boy" "Noodle Boy"

(Roy)"The ugly squiggly one" "His dad" "Methhead puppet"

(Red) "Mop Man" - i still call him this too this day lol.

(Duck) "Bird boy" "Bird Dude" "Borb" "The friend who got Eaten"

(Shirgold) "Bitch Butterfly" "Creepy ass butterfly" "Cult Butterfly".

Every other object has been deemed "The Fucking _____" Example "The Fucking Steak."

Except for Larry the lamp.. i was given a Larry lamp from Esty on a birthday once, and he has helped us though multiple blackouts sense. so Larry's cool but He's on thin ice

[lurksunderthebed]

MWIII Ghoap Drabble

Major Spoilers Beware!!! Canon compliant. Set between Trojan Horse and the Ending scene. No comfort, all pain.

It's cold.

Ghost didn't expect that. He's bundled up in all his blackened layers. Swathed in all the armour he can find, bar wearing his actual kit. Yet the kiss of that chill still slithers down his spine. Jagged tendrils of ice widen cracks in his exposed shell. It's only a matter of time till he breaks. Ghost can tell.

Price and Gaz are here with him. Dressed in their finest. Ghost sticks out like a sore thumb. But the thought of putting on his No.1s and having everything out to show, to have his grief, once again be publicised makes something in him want to hurl and scream and cry. The only one he'd ever let see him like that was not here. He'd never see him again either.

A sound comes from clenched lips.

Ghost ignores it.

He refocuses on the dark chestnut in the room. It's shockingly rich in an otherwise sterile beige room. Ghost should really be used to this. But Ghost had also never let himself get this close.

It was a mistake and yet—

And yet Ghost would—

Enough.

Johnny deserved more than this from him.

He'd told him that they were a team. Johnny was his responsibility, his cross to bear. Watching him was the last thing he'd do for him. The one thing he'd failed to do properly.

Ghost wouldn't fail him now.

A mousy woman dressed in black is waiting for him to the side of the room.

He nods at her and she moves it into position. Ghost's eyes critically watch her every twitch, sniper steady and intent. She swallows nervously at his stare.

Credit to her professionalism, she does her job. The sleek silver of the machine stands out in the careful blandness of the room. A room that was decorated so delicately and purposefully stale. Ghost hates it.

He hates how it looks. So jutting and off-putting in this careful room. Like masking a hideous thing in silk and asking everyone to pull wool over their eyes. To pretend like this was something pleasant, planned, prepared for. It's a reminder of all the wrongness Ghost has felt since.

The mousy woman comes to stand closer. It's a fair distance away from him, as if she could tell he was some sort of thing collapsing and diseased—more like a wounded animal slated for destruction than anything resembling a man.

"Whenever you're ready." She tells him in a quiet murmur. Her eyes are carefully hidden away from his, head lowered in supplication. It's a fragile silence made even more delicate by her sympathy.

It burns, that sympathy. Ghost wants to snarl at her. Bite and howl. Rip apart his enemies and drag them down here to lie instead. Hunt all those who played a part and tear them and then himself to shreds.

But he can't. Not yet.

The thought rips another noise from his throat.

The woman flinches at the noise. Ghost stands stock still, muscles tensing and relaxing in an effort to control himself. He's never been so visibly agitated, so violently out of his own preternatural silence.

Price and Gaz shift nervously at his side. Their eyes betray their worry, their grief. Ghost hates this too. The lines of despair written so plainly on his body were obvious to anyone who saw him now. The bitter irony of it doesn't escape him. For all of his efforts to hide away, he's as exposed as he ever could be. Stripped down for all his ugly grief to be shown and exhibited.

His mind catches on the thought, tripping over the idea of those glances, the sympathy and all that pity directed at him. All those eyes sliding over the raw sores of his open wounds, tearing into his exposed flesh.

It freezes him, his breath hitching in panic. There's something hurt nesting in his throat this time.

Johnny.

The panic crests and Ghost squeezes his eyes shut. It's a stuttered half second before muscle memory orders him back to the present. As it always was, Ghost's leaden gaze fixes to him, something easing at the sight as he did. Even now. The rich browns remind him of his duty.

Ghost lays a heavy hand on the shiny polish. The paleness of his skin stands out amongst the chestnut. A whisper of a memory catches.

There's a laugh hovering around his ears, cocky and bright. Those black strands shining in the morning light turns into a rich chestnut brown. Scarred fingers catch the tip of a careless lock, eager to take a little bit of sunshine for himself. The contrast of their differing colouration catch his gaze instead and he finds himself marveling at how vibrant it was. Another laugh sounds.

"Simon." The shade whispers. "What are ye doing?"

Ghost jerks. His pale hand lies limp like a deadened husk on the casket. The gleaming silver of the cremator hangs in front. Johnny was gone.

He drags his hand off the chilled wood and glances at Prize and Gaz. Price's gaze sears; Ghost can see the mirrored guilt in those depths. Gaz's is all one jumble of pain, helpless anger bordering the sides of it. There's something so young about his expression that instantly shutters Ghost. He is abruptly reminded of himself at a younger age, before loss shaped his form into something unrecognisable.

Today was no less different.

There was still something in Ghost's fevered mind whispering Johnny's honeyed words into his ear. The sickened part of him that never wanted those last caresses to leave, hoped it was permanent. If Price had any inkling the man kept it to himself.

Ghost understood implicitly that Price knew more than he let on. Both of them were seasoned at breaking men apart; they could recognise when one was about to crack. Now, however, was not the time. Not now.

Price holds his gaze and nods shallowly back to him. Gaz follows suit. They stand at attention, posture perfect and ready.

It's time.

Ghost lingers on the lacquered wood for one final glance. His masked face stares back at him, distorted by the light reflecting off the curves of the casket.

It felt like a betrayal somehow, like taking that first final step was acceptance of bitter reality. Ghost knew he was giving into that hollowed lie, but Johnny would want it like this. He had spoken of his mountains, his lochs, the beauty that hung around desolate hills hewn in purple. Johnny had dreamed a life for them there once upon a time; Ghost would do his best to make it true.

Ghost nods to the woman again. His throat was too torn up with jagged shards for him to speak words. The only sounds left to him today were animal ones.

She wheels the casket in, that rich brown gradually swallowed up by lifeless steel.

The door closes with a mechanical whine.

She looks to him again in question.

There's a shallow twitch of his head.

The woman presses the button. It starts.

Ghost watches.

+

[deandoesthingstome]

Night Moves

Chapter 7

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 2504

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, alcohol, general violence, makeup sex, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI. Edit: If you were here before, know that I removed drug use and drug addiction. I had a plan and things changed, as they so often do.

Chapter Warnings: Angry Walter, police procedure (sure), more misogyny, some serious assault, self defense, pain, death.

A/N: I will not lie. This did NOT go the way I thought it would. It’s pretty dark and ugly. I think it’s important to the story though. I also didn’t get to the scene for the song I wanted, so there WILL be at least one more chapter. Please don’t cry.

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist:  Night Moves Songs 23-26 Direct Spotify Link

Masterlist

“Alright, listen up!” Walter bursts into the dispatch room with all the anger and energy of a man who has realized exactly what has been going on and whose life is at stake now. “I need someone to pull plates for Detective Mick Jonas and then scan all traffic cams starting at the intersection of 10th and Vine. I want to know where that car is heading like 5 minutes ago.”

The switchboard is lit up and it isn’t as if the operators are slacking, but the blank stares he gets do not help his demeanor.

“Is everyone deaf??? Get on this. Now!” He marches to the nearest desk to loom over the tech, and stares daggers at her while her fingers begin flying over the keyboard.

“Is that our Mick Jonas?” she asks.

“You got the plate?” He ignores her question with a glare.

“Coming right up. Okay, yeah, here it is, but I don’t…”

“Who’s got the cameras?” he interrupts her. His skin feels like it’s on fire and at any moment he’s going to break something if he doesn’t get an answer. When Rachel steps in the room, she sees his behavior as well as a familiar attitude. If she had to hazard a guess, it’s the reason he showed up in yesterday’s clothes but she knows it’s neither the time nor the place to ask about it. Only that she can’t let him run this search.

“Walter,” she puts a hand on his shoulder with enough pressure to let him know it’d be best not to shrug it away.

“I need to know where he’s going, Rachel!”

“We all need to know where he’s going. Yelling at the crew isn’t going to speed up the computers.”

“He’s not alone. He’s got another victim with him right now! Fuck!” Nothing about Rachel’s speech has calmed him down or gotten him to lower his voice.

“Who’s with him?”

“Alex… Alexandra Pierce.” 

The way he says her name, Rachel knows. And she knows she can’t stop him, but he won’t be going alone. She pulls out her cell to call another detective and tells him to be on standby for the chase. Dispatch’ll put a call out to officers in the area once they have a location, but she needs someone who can take charge of the scene, because it isn’t going to be Walter if she can help it. Not in the state he’s in.

We are so close I can barely contain myself. One more corner, one more long stretch of road, one more gate to open and close, one more winding, tree-covered lane into a deep forest of pine. 

When we reach the bus, I’m on fire.

I can see the bitch starting to shift, move about. I look over and see her blink her eyes open and I just wait for the terror to creep into her eyes. And then I laugh.

I taunt her. I don’t even know what words are coming out of my mouth anymore, I just know she doesn’t like them and the more she doesn’t like them the more I say them. Over and over and over.

I keep a close eye on her when I open my door. I was careful to hit the switch to lock all the doors when I put her in the car, but now I just flip the lever for my lock. I can’t stop laughing when she thinks her door will open, too. She struggles just long enough for me to get around to her side so I’m ready when she finally finds the switch and opens the door. I'm right there ready to take her in my arms.

And then she does what none of them ever did. The thing I’ve been waiting for what seems like my entire life. 

She hits me.

It’s kinda my fault. I grabbed her under her arms. I let my guard down cause it’s been so goddamn easy lately. Well, all except that asshole that showed up the other night. But the ones I just beat up? The ones I thought for sure would fight back just a little? Nothing. 

They ignored me. Ignored the things I said to them. Acted like they had someone coming. Tried to walk away. Pulled out their phones, which were so easy to strip from their hands. But the best part? The thing that always got me going?

They would trip. Stumble. Those fucking ridiculous heels would end it for them every time. And I’d catch ‘em. Rush forward and grasp an arm or sometimes even get in front of them. But set ‘em right either way. Hold on just a beat too long. Smile. And they would know.

The right hook would come before they even took a deep enough breath to let out the scream they thought would save them. If I got it right, they’d spin just a little more off balance again so I could grab ‘em with my left. It was just more convenient than having to reach down to pick ‘em up off the ground just to get to hitting them again.

And if they didn’t fight back? Which they never fucking did. I’d just rough ‘em up. They were obviously easily swayed if they weren’t going to fight back. If they didn’t want to try to stop me, clearly they just didn’t care. And maybe that would be just the thing, the sign telling them it was time to be done with the whoring and the screwing around. TIme to stop flaunting their bodies for money and never for anyone who really deserved it.

But this one. She hits me again before I can comprehend what has just happened. And I’m just coming to my senses when I see she’s trying to draw her knee back so I know what’s coming and I jut my hips out of the way. I pull her close and butt my head against hers, knowing it ain’t going to feel great but it’s going to hurt her worse.

It gives me enough time to shore up my hold on her. I grab both her wrists in one hand and yank ‘em up hard over her head and I give her two more solid jabs, right in the eyes.

She is positively stunned and I think I’m good. But then she starts struggling again. She spits in my face and there is enough blood hanging around from the previous hits that some of what lands in my eye is colored and it burns. Stings. I can’t let go but I have to get this shit out of my eye.

So I’m still holding on to her arms when I lift my free hand to my face and fuck, right when I do, she connects her knee to my nuts and I let go of her hands to drop to the ground.

I can stand the pain a moment longer while I clear my vision and then I swallow hard because I see her trying to get back in the car and so I have to get up and to her fast. I grab her by the hair and pull her back against me, then turn her around and smack her across the face. 

She’s shocked enough again that I get a few more good solid hits in before she gets her wits back and tries again. 

This is so fuckin’ fun! That cunt from the other day was better than most which is what got her dead, but still was nothin’ compared to this bitch. Fuck, I think I’m hard right now.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Walter shouts. He can’t believe what Rachel has just said to him. After everything they’ve been through.

“It’s because I’ve been through it with you that I can’t let you lead on this, Walter, and you know I’m right.”

Walter is seeing only red as he stares at Rachel with crazy eyes, but she’s staring right back and she isn’t going to budge. He could move her physically out of the doorway but that’s going to feel like assault and he can’t risk it.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose, nostrils flaring before he huffs the breath out and back in again. A few more times and he can see a little clearer and he knows she’s right as much as he can’t admit it. 

“I’ll ride with you. Detective Greeves and his partner will take over when we get there. The patrol units are already on the way. From the traffic cam footage and a few more conversations with Lila we were finally able to pinpoint an old family plot a little out of town. So you know that also means the sheriff. It’s going to be a fucking mess out there, Walter, and I need you to stay the fuck out of it. Do you hear me?”

Walter nods, slowly, still breathing in and out. He shifts his head to the left to crack his neck and steps back from the doorway. With Rachel sure he’s under control, she steps back into the hall and turns to nod to Greeves. He hands a vest to her, then one to Walter when he finally leaves the dispatch room.

And now they are off. Walter’s got the GPS coordinates plugged in and he’s gritting through the instinct to drift around the lead car in front of him, but he promised. He doesn’t know what Rachel thinks she could do if he changed his mind right now, but he also knows if he does, he’s probably off the force.

Because if he gets to them first, he’s gonna kill him. And since he’s not actually on the case anymore, even if there weren't jurisdictional concerns, a shot from him isn’t going to be official. It’s going to be murder.

Alex can’t stand up any more. She’s on her knees and he is still hitting the side of her head.

There’s some flashing lights and sharp, high pitched sounds and Alex can’t tell if it’s from the club or if maybe the apartment's electricity is on the fritz again and Mrs. Travers is calling for help. 

But these lights are blue and red. And yellow. And there are a lot of them. And the sound just doesn’t stop.

Alex hears someone yell ‘freeze’ and she hears a few more people yell ‘down on the ground’ and she can’t figure out why because she’s already on the ground but she collapses all the way anyway because no one is holding her up anymore.

And she hears her name. Someone is shouting her name. They are getting closer, but then not. 

“Get the fuck out of my way!” Walter shouts as he pushes past a uniformed officer and rushes to Alex’s side. “Alex, Alex! Can you hear me?”

He’s on his knees just next to her and he’s touching her shoulder and he wants so badly to pick her up and hold her in his arms but he doesn't know the extent of the damage and he can’t be the one to do more, so he runs his hand down her arm to grab her hand and he holds that instead.

Her hand is warm but there is no movement. He bends down low and turns his head so he can put his ear next to her mouth and watch her chest. It’s low, but it’s there. A little rise and fall. And he can hear a small gasp.

“Waller?” she croaks out.

“Yeah! Yes, yeah. I‘m here, Alex. I’m here.” Walter jerks his head up to see if her eyes are open. And they probably would be if they weren’t puffing up and sealing closed as they spoke.

“Where here?” a little muffled.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ve got an ambulance on the way and we’re gonna get you out of here and to some help. I just need you to hold on, okay. Keep talking to me, okay?”

“O-ay.” 

Walter can see her jaw isn’t sitting right and even though he’s not a doctor or EMT or whatever the fuck ever, he sure as fuck knows he can’t leave it hanging like that. He reaches down under his vest to rip a wide swatch from his t-shirt and tears it once more at a side seam to pull it all the way off so he’s got a long strip he can maneuver around her head. He knows he shouldn’t move her jaw to the side, so it’s gonna have to stay off-kilter while he presses it gently up so he can shorten the bandage and tie it as loosely-tight on top of her head as he dares.

And this means she can’t talk to him now. Fuck.

“Alex? Honey? I know you can’t talk right now and I don’t want you to even try anymore. And I know you can’t blink your eyes once or twice for me either. Don’t worry. Can you huff for me? One for yes, two for no.”

For a brief moment Walter wants to kick himself because if it’s no, she can’t huff even once. What a fucking moron! He hangs his head low.

But then he feels a short puff on his neck and he almost gives himself whiplash to turn his face to her again.

“That’s good, Alex. That’s really good.” He wants to smile so she can hear it in his voice, but he’s terrified right now. Terrified he’s about to lose the best thing that’s happened to him since Faye. There’s no smile covering that sound.

“Detective Marshall?” a voice calls down. “No questions about the case, okay?”

“You’re fucking standing right there. You can hear anything I ask her.” Walter pulls himself up a little so he’s not shouting directly in her face, even as he tries to temper it with gritted teeth and little sneer.

“We can’t hear her response. And it seems like you’re the only one who’s gonna feel it. Let’s just get her to a hospital and then figure out how to get her statement.”

Walter grits his teeth again and bites in the response he wants to give as he sees Rachel make her way over.

“The ambulances are here.”

“Plural?” he asks as he turns to look. One gurney out with a board and clean bed, one gurney out with a black bag. He never even heard the shot.

The EMTs shift him out of the way, slip a spinal board under her, and hoist Alex to the gurney before rolling her away. Walter turns to Rachel with a look of despair and she sends him off with a quick ‘go’.

Walter hoists himself into the back of the ambulance before they can shut the door. He doesn’t care whether they think he’s officially on duty. He sits down beside Alex and grabs her hand, leans in and whispers in her ear.

“Hold on, Alex. Please.”

Taglist: (If you asked for a tag and it’s not here, Tumblr likely isn’t letting me tag you. Ask if you want me to try again.)

Chapter 8

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @beck07990  (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier @anotherwinchesterfangirl @sebbytrash @feelmyroarrrr)

NM: @enchantedbytomandhenry @kingliam2019 @henryownsme @littlefreya @identity2212 @marantha @angelcavill66 @sweetdreamsofgelato @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @greensleeves888 @dinoswierdmom @geralts-yenn @wabi-sabi1090 @bourbonwithice​ @used-to-be-bourbonwithice (this one doesn’t work for me, sorry!)

[lockmad]

I’m going to try to make this make sense, but no promises… but I’m also going to acknowledge that Tumblr is like a diary to me and I don’t expect anyone to read this but if you read it hello! 👋 I hope you are well

I’m really struggling right now… my grandmother just passed away and she truly meant the world to me and I don’t even feel like I’ve had the time to grieve.

I had to pick up my whole entire life and move in with my grandfather within a week, I’ve been with him for two weeks, and he is struggling in ways we didn’t predict. I am also struggling in ways I did not predict. I have clinical depression, but I thought I had learned the skills needed to deal with things like this… I need to give myself credit though because I’m dealing a lot better than I would’ve when I was 19 or 22.

I’ve put so much work into myself and I’m trying so hard but I am so tired of life kicking my ass. 

Life is hard for so many reasons, I think a lot of people my age feel it. The economy, climate change, the way the majority of men are acting in regards to dating, not even that, but the whole idea of dating now is so hard with social media.

No one puts themselves out there, and when I personally do put myself out there, no one responds. And I want to make it abundantly clear to myself, as well as others, that I am not an unattractive person. I think a lot of the time the people who are expressing this discomfort with the dating scene are being told that there’s something wrong with them, and I would like to acknowledge that sometimes, things are not your fault. I am not ugly. I am not hard to be around. I am not unlikable. I would be the best thing that has ever happened to the right person. Most men would be lucky to kiss the ground I walk on, and I mean that in the most polite way possible … 

I’m constantly struggling with the idea that I don’t have much time to love and enjoy life because climate change has put a countdown on my life in a way I don’t think any other generations have had to deal with

I feel like I’m going to spend the time I have left alone. And though I don’t see anything wrong with being alone that’s never been what I want.

I want companionship, I want partnership.

I’ve been single for over a year now and I’ve been single for chunks of my life before that and I’m learning to be comfortable with it. But it just isn’t what I want. And now I’m in the situation that I feel has set me back.

 I’m struggling with an abundance of emotions that no one seems to be able to empathize with and it all comes down to the fact that I am lonely…

I just don’t wanna be alone…

Anyway, I’m not sure any of that made sense. I’m really just trying to use any and every outlet I have to keep myself above ground. I don’t feel like I deserve this, I don’t feel like my grandfather deserves this, I don’t feel like my mother deserves this. I don’t understand why life is so painful and I just came to vent to the void or whoever you are reading this right now.

EDIT:  I also want to acknowledge, for my own sake, that my relationship with death is very complicated. I was raised very religiously, and I am an agnostic if anything. But truly, I’m not sure how anything like heaven could be real. My grandmother was a devoted Catholic and she’s gone. I don’t know how to understand that she’s just gone. I don’t think I’ll see her again someday, I don’t think her spirit is with me or is watching over me, she’s just gone and that’s honestly as horrifying as if I were to believe she could watch over me right now (which is a concept that gave me extreme anxiety as a child. The idea that my loved ones could watch and judge me from above) I have not grieved her properly yet. She was a very anxious woman herself, and chose to not have awake funeral or burial. When she died in the hospital, I kissed her forehead and she was gone. I will never see her again, and I have nothing to visit, no grave to put flowers on, and no closure.

Obviously, her thoughts and feelings were complicated. I could get into the details of my family dynamics and all that but I don’t know.. I can’t change anything so what’s the point, right? it’s all out of my control .. 

Ciao  

[angiefsutton]

Quantum Leap (1989) Re-watch

Season 1, Episode 5 - "How the Tess Was Won"

Ah, yes. The one where Sam somehow is able to go through almost the ENTIRE leap before seeing what he looks like in the mirror.

"She'd have made you a woman, not a cowboy." / "Why can't I be both?" ah, a woman's lib-ish storyline. Bet you anything it was written by Pratt. {credits roll} Huh. I was wrong.

"NO IT'S NOT HOG COLERA!" - I love how concerned he is for this pig.

I love the little musical bit we get whenever 'holograms' are used.

Tattoos: "Tina's got her name in a tattoo. Of course, that wouldn't do you any good because {laugh} it's in a super private part of her anatomy." Fic where Al has his dick tattooed ASAP please. ;-)

"Of course, she always thought you were kinda cute. Sam - you've never seen Tina's tattoo, have you?" May have to put this into the threesome WIP I want to get back to. ;-)

"'56: I'm still a baby. My sister Kate's not even born yet." - still no Tom.

Tina 'cheating' with Gooshie was THIS early?

"Tina's cheating on you?" The look on Al's face before he says, "Can you believe it?" is hilarious!

ooh - old (plain) handlink. And Al smacks it. Huzzah!

"Al: do pigs like milk?" / "Oh, they adore it." How in the HELL would HE know?

"Almost all animals can see me." great way to get around that you can't train animals to 'not see' someone in the scene.

"I think there must be something weird-looking about me, because I seem to intimidate them." / "Maybe it's your clothes." (which is ADR'd) - first dig at Al's outfits.

Sam feels bad about reading his host's diary. Daw.

"That's a cross we all have to bear. Performance under pressure." Al Calavicci, you are amazing.

"First thing my dad taught me about mounting an unknown horse was to look him straight in the eye and show him who's boss. Then, with a good grip on the reins, mount quickly and take a firm seat." Sam Beckett - you watch your mouth! ;-)

"Tina and I met over a poker table in Las Vegas. I had a flush: she had a pair. Oh, what a pair." Al Calavicci, I still love you.

"She took my second favorite organ and stomped it to death with her four-inch spike heels." Love it.

Yay - the first time Al goes on a thesaurus run-on sentence bit!

shirtless and sweaty Scott Bakula - dear sweet crispy walnuts: I have died. Scott Bakula has killed me.

"There's some things that a man can do better than a woman." {beat} "And some things that a woman can do better than a man: like having babies." … welcome to '80s 'feminism'.

It took Tess quite a bit to notice she was sans shirt.

"Do you know where SHE and that jock-strap breath went over the weekend? To Vegas. Can you believe it? OUR Vegas." - could be read that it's Sam and Al as that 'us', slashers! ;-)

… Al abandons Sam to take a call from Tina. That's just wrong in multiple ways.

"This isn't fair, you know. You can't expect me to do this and not get involved. So, if Tess falls in love with Doc, I'd appreciate it if you just leaped me out of here as soon as possible." The first 'capitulating to the heart/libido' for Sam. He falls pretty easily here.

Sam knew he had a crush on his kindergarden teacher and 1st grade teacher - AND knows their names. That Swiss-cheese memory thing sure is particular. ;-)

Sam 'being mad' at Al is so. freakin. adorable!

… his mirror image is supposedly ugly? Which … first - talk about a moral. Second, he's better looking than Dr. Bryant in "Star Crossed".

and this stupid 'kiss with history' - which is not even historically accurate. (per Wikipedia: "Holly made his first appearance on local television in 1952, and the following year he formed the group Buddy and Bob with his friend Bob Montgomery. In 1955, after opening for Elvis Presley as part of the Louisiana Hayride's habit of seeking out local bands to add to the show, Holly decided to pursue a career in music." This takes place in 1956.)

Overall Thoughts: man, this one has NOT aged well. The 'feminism' is bad, even for 1989. And there are plot holes you can drive a TRUCK through.

Even still, it's a sweet story for Sam. And I mean, we DO get shirtless Scott Bakula in exchange for the bad feminism. Does that make it equal? ;-)

The whole 'Al focusing on Tina cheating' is a bit over the top (they really wanted a cliffhanger for that third act, didn't they). I want to say I read a fic where it actually was something else that was project related.

But hey - that scene of Sam getting punched by Tess is used in the title credits, so there's that.

[olivieraa]

saw Deadpool 3 today!

god, I remember...

ok so I dont have a connection to superhero movies. superhero anything really. I can list it quite easily

I used to watch the 90s spiderman, xmen and batman as a kid. spiderman was my fave. get in from school, throw on spiderman. then the tobey maguire spideys came out and he was my first ever big crush. then the xmen movies came out and I saw all 3.

so that was before the MCU did its thing, and superheroes took over. I saw the first iron man and that's it all the way up until the first avengers. never saw the captain americas, never saw the thors, never saw the follow up iron mans. and pretty much any of them that have come after it UNTIL... Deadpool 1

and I was a Deadpool hater. I still am. I believe that characters are different per medium, and I do not like comic!Deadpool and I made that clear on tumblr back in the day before the movie came out. so I went to see the movie to see if it was gonna be... well, as misogynistic as comic!Deadpool was

and it wasn't.

I wasn't that big of a fan of the first movie. there's a scene that misogynistic fanboys take out of context all the fucking time. but I consider Deadpool 2 to be one of the best movies ever made. and... very feminist, honestly.

Deadpool 3 I was nervous about. would it be like 1 or 2.......

it was like 2!

I think... I think Ryan just knows. like, the women in his life are very important to him. he could have gone the gross cater to fanboys route with DP but he didn't. so I appreciate that he can be liked by everyone, not just those creeps.

and its saddened me that feminists have hated on Ryan saying its bc of him his wife doesn't have a career anymore and he's thriving. all the man does is praise her, say he's unworthy of her, give her all the credit for any writing she's done esp ON Deadpool. like, I don't care for straight couples, esp Hollywood couples. but I actually like these two. so yeah, I had a good time, I like Ryan and I'd give the movie an 8/10. The second to me was a 10/10

also just speaking of straight couples and women who should be breaking up with or divorcing their men, like ok, I get if you watch one "type" of video, the algorithm is like "here's 50 more", so bc I've seen one or two "useless boyfriend" videos, instagram keeps showing me more and more, but like................ how fucking many are there.

like I know its practically an epidemic of women dealing with their scrubby boyfriends instead of being single, but its goddamn everywhere

And then you have ugly fuckers who want a gf for the sake of having a gf, but will always try, on the sly, to cheat and get with someone hotter

Then there's the constant posts about "why men cheat" and the comment section is full of shit like "why have one meal for the rest of your life" or "bc she stopped trying to look good for me"

And then videos from strippers who say that men who try to cheat on their wives with them is not a here and there thing, its an every day thing, and their wives and gfs think they're the most loyal men out there absolutely INCAPABLE of cheating and yet, here they are!1!

And I dont even need videos to confirm this. My stripper friend says married men propose to her all the time

I know this went from Deadpool to being angry at the straight again, but I just thought I'd keep it to one post, since people have hated on Ryan but they're like the only straight couple I have faith in (aside from my straight friends, I love my straight friends, I wouldnt attend the weddings otherwise lmao)

Like I just... like, women... If you look at your man and dont think he's the one, if you look at your man and think there's a possibility he may cheat on you, if you look at your man and think that you wouldn't put your life on the line for him bc he's not your soulmate

Then leave

Be single or wait, patiently, until you find the one. The women posting these videos constantly make me so sad bc I know they're not leaving these useless ass men! That pregnant woman is just like :( when her bf is looking at other women, but she's like 'oh well! At least I'm the one that has him! ;)'

[jabberwockprince]

Y'know what hello, how're you doin

This is a free ride to ramble about Any subject that's been plaguing you lately. Go off.

HIII NYM TY FOR THE ASK, IM DOING GOOD

just got back from a trip and I spent most of the time thinking about some obscure ass fandom I was in that just suddenly came back to my brain???????? this fucken movie out of all things came to HAUNT me

red shoes and the seven fucking dwarfs - that movie about body positivity and the pressure of being perceived as ugly in a society that values appearance over everything else and the double standards that come with that, whose marketing royally fucking sucked and made everyone think this movie hated fat ppl???? when the main character is this girl

and she loves herself and is confident and knows that people are most likely to help her when she puts on those red shoes that make her skinny. and the movie pokes fun at all those makeover / sexy protagonist moments in romcoms and shit with genuinely funny recurring gags. like its not a revolutionary movie, but its a pretty good movie with very nice rep and i just KNOW that if it came out during the time ppl were making edits of merida, jack frost, hiccup and rapunzel, they would've ADDED the twink ass love interest guy because LOOK AT HIM?

mf is so 2010's fandom bait its not even FUNNY

like i was obsessed with this movie back in 2019-2020 or so and then a few weeks ago my brain was like "didn't you have. an OC for this?" and i went to check my art folder AND YEAH. I DO HAVE AN OC FOR THIS. I DID MAKE AN OC BASED ON THE QUEEN OF HEARTS AND THE JABBERWOCK

WHY? because theres a character in the movie that is literally. Prince Average. thats his name. hes based on the hunter from snow white and hes the lamest funniest bitch in this movie. i have zero respect for this blond lanky ass twink. his VA made a GREAT job at voicing him and adlibbing his lines bc hes so very hateable in a way thats super fun. i grabbed him by the back of his stupid ass shirt and decided he was my favorite and that i was going to inflict him with infinite amounts of projection and development and depth based on two lines in the movie and a single scene in the credits sequence

and he fucking lives in THIS castle???? sir???????? SIR?????????

"how is this related in any way to your OC, Prince?"

ITS SO VERY IMPORTANT TO ME THAT EVERYONE UNDERSTANDS I LOVE DYSFUNCTIONAL HOMOSEXUALS WHO ARE AWFUL PATHOLOGICAL LIARS, IMMATURE AND SHITTY, AND FULL OF EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE THEY INSIST ON IGNORING TO THE POINT WHERE YOU CANT TRUST THEM WITH THE NARRATIVE BC THEYRE TWISTING EVERY LITTLE THING TO WHATEVER IS CONVENIENT TO THEM.

AND ??? I JUST HAVE. ALL THIS ART ABOUT THEM. AND THEN 5 DOCS DETAILING SO MUCH SHIT ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND HISTORY AND PARALLELS AND MOTIFS ???

and then i got possessed to rewrite an old ass fanfic about them and i dont even know how i got here i havent thought about this fucking movie in a year or so

long story short i love latching onto Some Fucking Guy that is Painfully My Type and making him into my own little OC. everyone consider watching the movie, it rlly is pretty funny lmfao

[the-crow-binary]

Top 5 favorite and top 5 most hated NFCV moments? :)

>:( Fine. But just FYI I ain't bothering to re-watch the scenes so I'm just going to base it all on my (poor) memory

Top 5 favorite:

5. Isaac fighting alongside Abel. Although Abel is much more important than the show portrays him to be and he should have, imo, appeared much earlier, I remember I really liked his dynamic with Isaac. And the way he protected him before Carmilla explodes all over the place....... me WEAK

4. That Trepha moment where they're like "I'm not looking at you, Sypha." "But you're going to~". They're cute sometimes <3 (the little crack in Trevor's voice as he goes "yes" is- GAH. I want smth like this with the game versions :< (imagine it with Trevor's japanese VA.....))

3. Trevor fighting with two whips was visually cool <3

2. Trevor's first "I love you" to Sypha. ;-; Just when he accepted he was going to die for the good cause ;-; Knowing Sypha was with child and he won't be there for them but at least what he's going to do is going to allow them to live and Sypha will know how much he cared and will remember his last words as a little joke that meant "i know and i am sorry i can't be there for the new adventure" and ;-; THAT SHIT BE GETTING ME EMOTIONAL, MAN. I'm glad they never said those words to each other before, it makes it even more impactful when the times actually come <3 (one of the rare things NFCV does right lol) Though I wasn't as impacted by Sypha's own "i love you", don't know why. :<

1. When it ended. :) disclaimer guys, i literally took the joke from Bee, she deserves the credit for her own peak humour Eh otherwise there's this scene in S4 where Trevor makes Sypha sit down on a bed with him to talk calmly about things instead of rushing in for the first time in weeks, and I saw someone say once that it was his way to try and make Sypha tell him she was pregnant without having to push it, and it's a very sweet idea and I very much like it even if idk if it was the intent. It was a nice Trepha moment anyway. <3

Now to the... ERK. Top 5 most hated moments.

5. The moment Trevor found the Morning Star + The moment where he found that one cross thingy. I put them together because of one concept that links the two and annoys me to death: No one gives a shit about Trevor's findings, not even the show itself. By Trevor's reaction when finding the MS, we know it's like, a big deal. But he's the ONLY ONE to treat it as a big deal, Sypha just goes "lmao what's that ugly thing" and clearly doesn't care about what Trevor explains after. It's like he found a random object on the ground. The show doesn't bother to make us really feel how big of a deal this is. As if Trevor was just exagerating. Then in S4, Trevor find the cross thingy and excitedly shows it to Sypha, who still doesn't care (but at least pretends to this time, i guess, with not much conviction). And I guess the cross isn't as important as the morning star... but I get really annoyed at Sypha just seeing Trevor getting passionnate and going "bruh he found another toy". I would have had less problem with it if Sypha was shown to have interest in Trevor's findings (starting by the MS) before, and because Trevor keeps finding things, she gradually become less and less impress but still pretends to be because well she likes him and he's passionnate and it's kinda cute. But she literally never cared. It's yet another way to ridicule Trevor for me. :/

4. Everytime someone gets snarky/rude or swears. It's like the show is trying to convince itself of how much of an adult it is. "Oh but it's more realistic-" WHERE DO YOU LIVE TO HAVE EVERY SINGLE PERSON EVER SAYS "SHIT" AND "FUCK" EVERY TWO SENTENCE?? I AM BAREY EXAGGERATING. And it makes the joke that Trevor is having a bad influence on Sypha (the "i could piss in a glass and tell him it's beer after he just saved my life" girl) and Alucard (the "yes fuck you" boy) fall flat. Every one is rude in this world. Even DEATH ITSELF LIKE FOR FUCKING HELL'S SAKE

3. Carmilla's #girlboss first appearance. :) Dracula being unable to make his own court shut up is already stupid and horribly irritating (the fact he is actually whispering is more ridiculous than intimidating) but Carmilla appearing like a BOSS, making everyone shut up for SOME reason, and then insulting Dracula's wife, the whole REASON WHY THERE'S A WAR, right to his face with NO CONSEQUENCES FOR HER... URGH I HATE IT I HATE IT SO MUCH (and I am being generous because it is a top FIVE but there is not a single Carmilla moment i liked)

2. The moment Hector trapped Lenore to PROTECT HER. It was the moment I've been waiting for the whole season. The moment where Hector was going to reveal how he manipulated Lenore. The moment where he was finally going to give her a taste of her own medicine. The moment where he was finally going to go "I won't be a victim anymore, I am breaking free, fuck you. I can't believe you actually thought I could feel any kind of affection for a monster". But noooo, because Lenore was made soooo sympathetic, he HAD to actually fall for her! My heart and hopes and dreams literally shattered the moment Isaac arrived and Hector went "don't hurt her!" :)

1. When it started lolllll The two rape scenes. (they were mixed in one so it counts idc) Not because they exist. But because of what they led to. :) AKA, for Lenector: Rape apologism (it's okay because Hector's a man and he enjoyed it :)), romanticism of abuse (Lenore literally humiliated Hector in front of her sisters, talked about how she was going to use him for sex, went "i made you into my pet just like you always needed :)" while Hector was on his knees having a breakdown, then next season without any warning or development he's all fine with her again), the show shitting on the very idea of Hector getting any agency ever, Hector falling for Lenore with NO DEVELOPMENT, out of NOWHERE, because WHY would we need to show and explain why the abused man would fall for his abuser that he seemingly hated and planned on plotting against at the end of the last season?? There's so many things wrong with this ship and you and other people already explained it before. And for the non-twins twins x Alucard: Poor handling of trauma. We see Alucard crying afterward, cool, NFCV likes to make him cry, visibly. Then he PISS on their CORPSES (what a mature show, so well written compared to those shitty games :)). And though I can relate a bit to the "oversharing with a stranger" part, the fact said stranger literally goes "okay...?" when Alucard reveals his trauma to her like HE'S WEIRD FOR HAVING BEEN ABUSED and makes a JOKE OUT OF IT. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. And then we ever talk about it again or see any consequences of it either. Almost as if the sex scene was useless from the start. :)

Uuuurgh it's finally OVER. There's so much more scenes I could rant about, but hey, it's a top 5, not a top "however much number you need" :) (and thank the LORD it is because it was already complicated and long to make as it is lmao)

[docholligay]

Misc: Ep 2

Hello! This is about up to Episode 2 of Yellowjackets, and ONLY episode 2 of Yellowjackets. I have not seen beyond the second episode, at all, and know NOTHING about this show. Please do not spoil it for me.  Things that are spoilery in nature, for me, include: saying things like  “Just wait!!” confirming or denying anything I put forward, outside information about the cast interviews or creator statements, leading questions like “Do you think “blank moment” means anything?” etc. Remember  that Y’ALL HAVE SEEN THE SHOW AND I HAVE NOT. This informs the way you  talk about things relating to the show. Just be really careful is all  I’m asking. Also: If there is LITERALLY any stance I  could take on this show or character that would make you upset, please  just fucking block the tag

If you WOULD like to discuss the show and my takes on it, the Discord is right here! I don’t go there, so it’s a great place to get every emotion out.

Please thank @sailorsunspot and @moonlight-frittata for backing this odd way of doing a liveblog, and remember my tip jar is always open

Full credit to the pilots for flying all the way to the scene of the crash, as they say, like you’re supposed to as a pilot. 

The crash scene is anxiety-producingly well done.

How DID Van get out, anyhow? I hope we find out. 

I find it interesting that Shauna tries to dodge responsibility in the car crash, when it is…absolutely her fault. I wonder if that’s going to materialize into things from the wild. 

Also, back to Misty, my god, that “you think I’m ugly” thing. Boy, Misty doesn’t GET that she is, at core, unlikeable, does she? She doesn’t get that the problem is not outside of her control. It IS her. 

There wqas no way I could make this into its own post, but let’s all note that the symbol was there when the girls crashed, so whatever it is about has something to do with where they are not them (or both I guess) leading to some light hope that there genuinely is a paranormal component to all this. I would be DELIGHTED if there was some kind of almost…synthesis, like the horrors are real but the horrors are also turning us horrible instead of just being victiims. I think that would be very exciting. CLEARLY, it’s something they end up taking for themselves, and that’s what leads to the postcard. 

I am not surprised that Jessica is not a real reporter, and so, does she work for whoever is sending the postcards? WHo is trying to draw out this stopry? I actually would not be shocked if it ended up being one of Taissa’s political rivals, maybe. Juicy as fuck story. 

I am somewhat relvied that we seem to be leaning into the whole “No, please don’t think nat is cool and the only ‘real one’ she is also a huge fuckup who can’t get it right and not in a neat way’ I’m not FULLY relieved but feeling much more chill about it. I was right so far to have faith. 

Speaking of, so we’re doing a Nat/Travis thing huh? The idea that a solid chunk of these girls would be gay according to my knowledge of soccer teams aside, I wonder if they don’t all just take turns with Travis as “only available boy” 

LOVED the fucking imagery of the Yellowjackets banner over the dead body. Just, great. This idea of pride and tribalism and it all comes to simply cover tragedy, what a brilliant summation. 

WHY DOES LOTTIE ONLY HAVE FIVE DAYS OF PILLS ARE YOUR PARENTS STUPID THAT WON’T EVEN COVER A FLIGHT DELAY

[flibbetygibbetsbro]

Read this so we can talk Koltc Philosophy

The lore in Nightfall is actually insane. You're telling me that hundreds of humans went missing, and when the Elvin Leadership did NOTHING the humans revolted so hard-core that ya'll really had to DISSAPERE from their knowledge? "But it was to keep the peace!"

Nuh uh.

If you REALLY wanted peace you would have actually looked into the disappearances. That would have been waaay easier to pull off than erasing hundreds of minds and flibbety-dippen SINKING an entire city into the ocean. Despite Elven egos, I think that the council got scared. That's right. The humans you call dumb and violent SCARED you into hiding.  We ugly, weak, and untalented things decided enough was enough and you couldn't handle it.

What's extra crazy is the fact that the Elvin world has everything in their pockets OTHER THAN THE HUMANS. You're telling me that we idiots rule the Earth while you lock yourselves and others away? 

An even crazier thing is that Elves view themselves above everything, even if they won't admit it at the get-go. Ogres really are pissed about it. They are CRAZY strong but also incredibly intelligent. The average elf understands nothing about Biochemistry (other than extreme exceptions such as Lady Candace) yet Ogres have things that can wipe out entire species and put Elves in endless comas. "But the Neverseen used the sedative so they understand it!"

Nuh uh.

They stole the research from the Ogre scientists. (Or made a deal with the king I honestly don't remember at this point). They NEVER would have pulled that off without them. And guess what? Ogres are a generally violent species as well but the Elves keep them around. (Albeit on a short leash). 

The humans have a similar situation. Many times in the books a human story, invention, or belief is brought up only for someone to smugly say "They get that from us", or "he was inspired by ME". I believe there was also a scene where someone talks about how human "help" organizations were terminated because the information shared with them led to dangerous inventions. Don't you guys just love it when Elves claim credit for all good ever done by humans? But as soon as a nuclear power plant or bomb is mentioned (crazy complicated crap) it's suddenly the nasty humans and their dumb, violent minds. *insert eye-roll* Which is it? Are we smart or dumb? Are WE responsible or are YOU? Ya'll can't cherry-pick. Elves also pretend that they have control over humans, yet you can't stop an invention from destroying a Japanese City and ending a devastating war that killed more Jews than the average Elf could comprehend? If humans are so terrible, THEN WHY HAVEN’T YOU STOPPED US YET? WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL US WHEN YOU HAD THE CHANCE? oh that's right, you're too scared.

My final thought: The fact that HUMANS are what Vespera chose to "study". Why not Ogres or Trolls? Were humans the easier target, or was there some other reason? The fact of the matter is that Humans and Elves are more similar than either of us would like to admit. Ogre's minds are too different than an Elf's. Human minds are only different in the sense of how loud they are.  In fact, that's arguably the most important difference between us. We humans are loud, we feel intensely and love like nothing Elves would understand. For we love for our short lives while they wander on for eternity. The only reason we can handle violence is because we have to fend for ourselves. Elves have protectors and little green people to do their dirty work. Humans have to live through thick and thin, slavery, war, loss, and heartbreak. When Elvin minds shatter, our minds find ways to make it through. Lose someone? We make up afterlife after afterlife and history shows different religions arising when the general public needs a way to work through their violent and tiring lives. But maybe we AREN’T so different. The characters presented as able to handle violence/are inclined to it either had to suffer violence and neglect, lived through endless years of times before the treaties and the council, or spent time with humans. Take Fitz as a prime example. Bro legit beat the shit out of Alvar and trapped him in goo to die. NOTHING IN THE BOOKS SHOWS FITZ FEELING ANY GUILT FOR THIS. Hm...seems like a very "human" thing to do.

The real reason Elves fear us is because we're just an untethered form of themselves with shorter life spans and a lot less to lose. We feel more deeply, more “violently”. As the books go on the Council itself is presented in a more kick-butt way as they finally step up to Vespera and the horrors she caused. 

That sounds a lot like The Humans of Atlantice.

[romances-not-tragedies]

and i keep my side of the street clean

Summary: When a chat about the case of the murdered magician goes ugly, one of Jo Gar's longtime acquaintances walks up into the scene and chooses figurative violence against the lieutenant of the Manila Police Station who thinks he is right in accusing an innocent man of a murder he may not commit. Or "The Magician Murder" AU in which someone puts Sadi Ratan in his place. Title from Taylor Swift's "Karma".

Content warnings: mentions of murder case, swearing, abuse of power by authority, insult towards an honorable ex-government official, not-quite accurate depiction of legal processes in pre-Revised Penal Code era, mixed opinions on the American colonial government in the Philippines

Note: Edilberto Alcantara is an original character I have made for each and every Jo Gar 'verse. In the stories he is a lawyer who's had the honor of working under one of the most honorable government officials who would figure in the country's history under tragic circumstances (read WWII).

Edilberto knew that he was supposed to be home, in an apartment unit at the arrabal of Ermita where he’d been living two years ago. To be fair, though, he still went back to the house at Calle Azarraga, which his family had bought upon securing enough funds while he entering his teenage years, for the weekends or when he felt like it, since it felt more like home than he'd thought it was before moving out.

But Jo had asked him to come over at his little office near Escolta since he needed his unofficial opinion on a certain case, and he climbed up the stairs after waving a greeting to Wong Ling, who seemed to be fretting in his place. He had wanted to ask but he had no time. He arrived at the door, not locked as he knew Jo would not lock his door as force of habit, only to hear sounds of conversations.

He bent down and pressed his ear against the keyhole to listen to who and what they were talking.

He recognized Jo’s matter-of-fact tone of speaking, countering with the always charged (and angry) tone from Lieutenant Sadi Ratan. He resisted the urge to sigh, as he had known the lieutenant to be a pus-filled boil on your buttocks dressed in a handsome face and spotless uniform. He had intensely disliked the lieutenant from the get-go. They were discussing about the case of a murdered magician, Señor Dario Cardoro who had arrived in the country and was watching the cockfight this night, only to get into a problem after the last round.

What it was, Edilberto had no idea.

And then, as it often went, what was supposed to be a decent conversation (or at least on Jo Gar’s part) devolved into the usual ugly shit. He heard the lieutenant ask in a demanding tone if Jo would accept Señor Sam Markden’s commission as he was seen as prime suspect.

It’s his right, yawa, he wanted to retort, but kept himself silent so he could time his entrance.

Then, he heard the lieutenant accuse Jo Gar, “You are protecting an American. You have always protected them. You like them. He was your client.”

Really now? Edilberto asked, if only to himself. It was like accusing you that you liked the current Governor-General, who Edilberto did not like since the Conley Crisis. Also, why was the lieutenant taking issue with Jo taking Markden as a client?

To Jo’s credit, he was as calm as he could be. “I was not paid that well,” he answered. “I doubt that I could be paid that well. Riazo was not drugged. You have no proof of it.”

Ayos! Edilberto silently cheered with a little fist pump. Drag him to hell, Jo. You’re doing it right.

Hotly, the lieutenant fired back, “I stood over Juan Derigo when he told me—”

So you intimidated him, then? Edilberto wanted to ask him.

“A Filipino does not like to be beaten,” Edilberto heard Jo chuckle as he replied. And the statement was true, unfortunately. “He preferred to let you think as you wished.”

Ha! Take that, you sorry sack of ball-less cocks!

Again, he heard the lieutenant vow to Jo, “It will not be good for you to protect Markden, Señor Gar. When we have caught him—”

Unless proven otherwise, Lieutenant Idiot-Face. You forgot that part. You only have one job and you are blowing it.

“The birds were in condition,” cut off Jo, though he spoke slowly. “Each of them. Riazo was defeated. That was all.”

But Lieutenant Idiot-Face, er, Lieutenant Ratan said, as though he had discovered buried treasure, “It is not all. Cardoro stood up and shouted that he would not pay.” Okay, so the man had money problems, and that’s the least of Edilberto’s worries right now. He was worried about the horrid fucker insisting that he was right despite the fact that his arguments could be thrown away by any sane juez de la paz. “I saw Markden’s face—”

Oh, you could read faces now? Good for you, Edilberto sarcastically said if to himself.

The lieutenant continued, “—there was hate in his eyes. And Cardoro was murdered. A spur knife was used. Markden has vanished. We have searched the city for him. He is the killer of the magician!”

And yet in your hate towards Jo Gar, you haven’t killed him. Also, why must you insist on something not yet fully proven? Anger was simmering in the young attorney. Were his former boss present in Jo’s office and was confronted by someone like Sadi Ratan, he would dismantle the lieutenant’s arguments with calm logic and knowledge of the law. He would gently but firmly rip them apart, one by one, until nothing was left for the lieutenant.

Jo replied with a sigh, “Then it is all very simple. You will find him, and that will be the end.”

Unless the court says otherwise, Jo. You forgot that part.

The calm must have driven Lieutenant Ratan crazy. Angry, perhaps. Which was why he would commit one of the most blatantly terrible acts of injustice Edilberto would hear him threaten Jo.

“And you will be brought to trial for lying to me, a police officer!” Edilberto heard Lieutenant Ratan fiercely threaten Jo Gar.

Anger shot through Edilberto. How dare Lieutenant Sadi Ratan accuse everyone and anyone of lying without solid proof! He wanted to puke and not because of beer, and he didn’t even drink! And he hadn’t made Jo swear an oath to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, an abomination of everything he had learned at law school and his ongoing stint at the Department of Justice. And he would have him tried for a crime he was trying to prove with only conjectures? No solid evidence?

That’s it, I’ve had enough!

He swung the door open and stepped inside the little office of his late cousin’s friend. “‘Lying to me?’” he repeated the words mockingly as a greeting to the lieutenant. He closed the door behind him a little too strongly and raised a brow at the lieutenant. “Who the fuck do you think Jo Gar is, your wayward husband?” he asked crisply and coolly like the amihan winds of December.

That made both men jump out on where they were standing. Cold satisfaction ran through the young attorney when the police lieutenant went stiff and his eyes grew comically wide. Jo Gar blinked a few times.

The “wayward husband” remark must have disoriented them, he thought.

It took both men time to recover from this dramatic greeting, Jo calming down first and greeting him with a faint smile, “Compañero Alcantara, what a pleasant surprise.” Relief washed over Jo’s countenance, though he hid it behind his usual expressionless face.

Edilberto smiled at Jo Gar and answered, “I thought you’ve already known that I would be here, since you sent me a message before I left home. And I do believe that Lieutenant Sadi Ratan here would quickly accuse me of conflict of interest even if I am just here for a different reason.” He delivered the last sentence in a cutting, sarcastic manner he’d always use when dealing with the lieutenant.

“How long have you been listening to us, Compañero Alcantara?” Edilberto turned to the police lieutenant, who was fuming so badly that he could see smoke out of his nose and ears.

The attorney directed his eyes towards Lieutenant Ratan, curled his lips in a here comes trouble smirk that had been a family trademark. He answered, “Long enough to hear you accusing of Señor Gar of liking Americans and committing perjury even if he has not sworn to someone who is fit to administer an oath. And then quickly accuse of Señor Markden of killing Señor Cardoro on the basis of—what?” He blurted out the last word in a mocking laugh. “Simply because he had dug up dirt on the man? That’s not how things work, Lieutenant. I thought you know better. I was wrong.”

He watched Jo Gar watching this unfold with interest and a bit of worry. He must have known that Edilberto hated the lieutenant, even more so when he watched the lieutenant trying to get under Jo’s skin. His underhanded tactics made Edilberto seethe no matter what.

Then his eyes went right back to Lieutenant Ratan as he grew red on the face. He must have hit where it hurt the most. Good, let him be angry and make his head explode.

Then Lieutenant Sadi Ratan exploded, making him barely flinch, “He lied to me! He is having Señor Markden hide behind him even though he is the killer of Señor Cardoro!”

Edilberto recovered from the outburst, thinking that Lieutenant Ratan sounded more like a lover scorned than a member of the Manila Police District. He asked, “Did you administer an oath to Jo Gar? Because from what I have heard, you did not. You just fired out accusations towards Señor Markden based on flimsy evidence and conjectures. If you tried to push it to trial stage at the court, even at the First Instance, the juez de la paz will laugh at your arguments. And while Señor Markden is suspected of killing Cardoro, he still has the right to ask for aid, legal aid.”

“Asking for aid from Señor Gar is not legal aid!” fired Sadi Ratan back.

“Doesn’t he have the right for an attorney?”” Edilberto countered matter-of-factly. “Is that not legal aid?” He watched the lieutenant grow mad once more and he was steps away from what his sister would call an apoplexy. He continued, “Plus, you already presumed him guilty, Lieutenant Ratan. That is not how it works.” He jutted his chin and pointed out, “He is still innocent until judged otherwise by the court of law.”

“And you are siding with Señor Markden, too,” Sadi Ratan accused him, pointing an accusatory finger at him. “You are supposed to be on the side of the law. I thought you know better.”

Edilberto rose an eyebrow on that, amused at this feeble show of power. “Why, I have been hearing that accusation too often,” he remarked, his voice mild but acerbic. He commented, “I must have gotten the lessons from my ex-boss wrong. I thought practicing fairness is important. Maybe I should visit him once more for some…clarification on the matter.”

“But I thought he had resigned from the Cabinet, Compañero Alcantara?” Jo Gar asked as he reached out for the packet of his favorite cigarettes in his coat.

“Which is why I said ‘ex-boss,’ Jo,” Edilberto pointed out with a smile on his face. “I still look up to him, though.”

He returned his stare to the lieutenant, who had dropped his finger when he saw how unfazed the attorney was. Which was a good sign, as it meant that what he’d said frazzled his non-existent brain.

“But he worked for Americans, and you work for Americans, Compañero Alcantara,” the lieutenant blurted out, gritting his teeth. He pointed to Jo and said, “And he likes working with Americans! He likes them and you like them!”

“So what?” Edilberto asked sharply. That this police lieutenant had the audacity to insult his former boss and his more-than stellar career in the government made his blood boil. Never mind he insulted his, but not that of the ex-Justice Secretary! It should earn him a punch or two, but that would be for another day. He stalked forwards, eyes and spirit hardened as he made Sadi Ratan stumble back.

Edilberto icily responded to the latter’s assault on the former Secretary, “My ex-boss was a pensionado, true. He also used to be part of the Cabinet as Justice Secretary before resigning. And guess who is leading the Cabinet? An American Governor-General! Does that make him pro-American? I don’t know except that my ex-boss is a fair and honorable man and is better at serving the people than you are.”

He smirked again at the arrogant lieutenant, who was utterly speechless, and pointed out, “And who is chief of the Manila Police District? An American! Your boss is often out of sight that we forget that he existed. And as for Americans asking for Jo’s help? That, Lieutenant Sadi Ratan, is none of your fucking business.”

He caught sight of Jo Gar looking at him in surprise. He knew that Jo had not seen him this angry towards anyone. Among his family and friends and in Jo’s opinion (at least how he’d say it), he had always been the mediator, the peaceful center amidst the chaotic dynamics.

He went on and said, “I’m not going to lie. It is not ideal, and I am not going to pretend that we do not have blood and muck up our necks because we work with Americans. Do not pretend that you are safe from it, either. You, too, are stained with the same shit as Jo and I are.”

“That is one way of putting it, Compañero,” Jo mildly said to Edilberto as he lit another cigarette. “But I fear that Lieutenant Ratan will not understand what you are telling him.”

Edilberto shook his head. “I’ve given up hope, Jo,” answered the attorney with a wave of his hand. “If he stays like that, that is on him.”

Then his attention went back to Lieutenant Ratan, who was standing there, angry defiance vibrating through him. He would not admit defeat, Edilberto thought to himself. He quietly told the police officer, “I will not be the cause of your downfall. Nor Jo Gar will be the cause of your downfall. You are already doing damn fine job yourself. But if you decide to go ahead with your threats and damn the consequences, go ahead. I will not stop you.”

Lieutenant Sadi Ratan reared back in shock. The shift in his tone must have jarred his brain and that he was giving the lieutenant an opportunity, a choice.

“I will warn you,” Edilberto continued, still mild in tone but with the rage in its undertones, “that since you are fond of committing this particular sin, a false charge can ruin a person. Arresting anyone on false charges can ruin them more. No one is safe from being falsely accused and being jailed for it. Señor Markden may not be safe. Señor Gar may not be safe. I may not be safe. You may not be safe either. So be careful if you keep proceeding. Do not say I have not warned you, Lieutenant Ratan.”

Their eyes clashed, and Lieutenant Sadi Ratan gave him a hard stare. Edilberto returned it with a frigid glare, his lips in a challenging not-quite smile. It was not long before Lieutenant Sadi Ratan broke the spell and walked away, but not without bumping into Edilberto’s shoulder, making the attorney stumble a little, and slammed the door shut. Edilberto muttered something unsavory about the lieutenant as he rubbed his affected shoulder.

Edilberto looked at Jo once more and let out a shaky breath of relief. “That ataya. He should have seen it coming,” he muttered as he approached Jo. “Sorry if I screwed it up.”

“On the other hand, you did well,” Jo said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m just worried that he would go after you.”

“On what grounds?” Edilberto asked as he sat on the fan-backed chair Jo had motioned for him to take. “That I warned him of the consequences if he continues to be an animal?” He pronounced the last word as his Cebuano parents would pronounce it when feeling annoyance towards anyone who acted uncouthly. “He can file a complaint to our acting boss if he wants to and if he has solid evidence. I’m not going to stop him because I know what is right and he is wrong. He made his bed, so let him sleep in it.”

Jo shook his head. “And yet you deal with him in a way you are daring him,” he told him, his blue-gray eyes on him, weariness evident in his countenance. “I wish I have half of your audacity to call him out like that. But it may take too much of my energy.”

Edilberto felt sympathy for him as he watched Jo run his fingers through his graying hair. Dealing with a stress inducer like Lieutenant Sadi Ratan would take a toll on anyone, even the unflappable Island Detective. He couldn’t blame him, though, if he wanted to deal with the lieutenant in a way he thought best.

“Whatever suits you best, Jo,” assured Edilberto. “But by God, I am steps away from punching his face! I wish I do not have to, because if I do, my family will be disappointed in me.”

Jo appeared to want to say something but closed his mouth and only nodded. “Well, let us set that aside, Edilberto, and discuss that case I am working on before the murder of Señor Cardoro. I would need your advice on how it is best handled in the legal matters.”

Edilberto let out a sigh. At last they had something to divert themselves from the debacle involving the aggressive idiot of a lieutenant.

***

And so, when Edilberto Alcantara heard that Sam Markden had been jailed for the murder of Dario Cardoro, his shoulders slumped. But when he read an article from the most recent edition of The Philippine Herald in his office at the Department of Justice, it turned out that it was Miss Jessie Rayne’s Spanish companion, Señora Elena Riggio, who killed the magician out of spite and a history that ended bitterly. Markden was let go because of this development.

That last bit of news had been heartening, but it made him angry too. Lieutenant Sadi Ratan let himself be carried away by his delusions of grandeur, believing that his word was gold. It turned out to be gold-hued enamel coating over a celluloid bauble. Because of him, he ruined the life of an innocent man with a false accusation and its resulting arrest.

And Jo Gar outwitted him again.

He knew that it did not have to be like that. Had the lieutenant been imbued with half the integrity and willingness to be corrected like his ex-superior, he would have done a fine job. But no, he did not.

There was nothing he could do. Lieutenant Sadi Ratan had brought this upon himself, and there was no one to blame but him alone. He had warned the man but he did not listen.

Now go stand in a corner and think about what you did, Lieutenant Idiot-Face.

For now, Edilberto decided to go on with his life.

He stood from his desk and placed the newspaper on a table along with the others in today’s edition. Going back to his place, he resumed his job, reviewing paperwork for an upcoming meeting with fellow lawyers on a case they were going to pursue at court.

[purpleplaid17]

Jess Watches // Tues 21 Nov // Day 60 Synopses & Favourite Scenes & Poll

Ugly Betty (rewatching with mum) 3x05 Granny Pants

Kimmie (Lindsay Lohan) comes to Mode to ask for Betty's help in getting a job there. She soon rises through ranks at Mode, and Betty worries that Kimmie might screw her over again, like in high school.

I have never understood people who say being in High School are the best years of your life. Being a teenager is awful. So much drama and heightened emotions. The lack of control over any aspect of your life. It's not at all surprising that HS is traumatizing for some people. Eff you, Kimmie. Also, Wilhelmina looked softly stunning on her date with Daniel.

Survival of the Thickest (with mum) 1x02 Be a Bad Boss Bitch, Bitch!

While adjusting to life as a newly single woman, Mavis takes on a styling gig for a former supermodel who goes viral and inspires a new perspective.

Marley is such a good friend! She's so supportive and always ready with a compliment when putting things in perspective. Someone who helps make you feel good about who you are. Also, Garcelle Beauvais was a knockout in that green dress. I was not expecting her to pull that out of her bag. 💀 < me and her ex-husband

The Owl House 3x01 Thanks to Them

Luz and her friends find themselves stuck in the human realm and are willing to go to daring lengths to return to the Boiling Isles.

The joy at seeing so many queer pride flags in the opening credits and also throughout the episode! Dana really showing Disney that not only will she not compromise her story or the characters in it, but she can also make it so much more gayer! And I loved Camilla educating herself about her kids identity and showing her support with the pride pin and by being an awesome parent.

The Lazarus Project 1x01 Episode 1

George, who begins to re-live time after witnessing the world end, is recruited into an organization that uses this power to prevent apocalyptic events.

As I was watching I thought about writing something witty about time loops. Then that last scene at the school dropoff happened and I was shouting at George to get off the bloody phone! They've gone past the checkpoint and he can't undo it, right? Nooooooo.