#jesus christ why did i yap so much

[ehvanescent]

It's happened again... I'm actively in like 5 fandom at once

[ichigosoju]

🍓

[lordprettyflackotara]

Chapter Eleven || Hitchhiker || The Proxies

no tw’s for this chapter

a/n: next chapter finna be just a little just a tad just the slightest bit unhinged

<— previous chapter

“How much longer until she’s awake?”

“There’s not even a rough estimate I can give you. Shes lost a lot of blood. But nevertheless, you need to think of a payment method.”

“Can you at least let her wake up before you start yapping about getting reimbursed?”

“Considering The Operator would hang me if he found out i’m helping any of you, I think not.”

You shifted uncomfortably, stiff metal underneath you as you began to stir. “The Operator hangs people?” You mumbled. You felt your wrist and ankles being restricted, causing your eyes to fly open. You were secured to a metal operating table, leather straps securing your wrist to your sides and your ankles to stay straight. You began to thrash under the restraints, panicking. “Woah woah woah it’s okay, relax,” Brian ushered. Three people stood around you, two of which you actually recognized.

Toby and Brian stood to your left, Toby’s eyes filled with concern. On your right, was someone you’ve never seen before. A blue mask with eerie black eye sockets stared down at you. A jet black hoodie hid any other features, your mind starting to spin. “Holy fuck, what the fuck, what the fucking fuck,” You rambled, trying to move away from the unknown masked man. Brian grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you down. “Relax it’s just EJ, he here to help,” He said, attempting to comfort you. The tall man known as EJ seemed unamused, tilting his head to the side.

“If this is how she reacts to me standing here, what was her reaction to Toby’s face?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What about his face?” You questioned. You blinked a few times, trying to understand why your vision was so blinded. “J-Jesus Christ dude move the l-lamp,” Toby intervened. He shoved the blinding spotlight out of the way, allowing your vision to settle. Brian and EJ began undoing your restraints, allowing you to sit up. As you did you hissed in pain, grabbing your stomach. “Take it easy. You’ll rip the stitches,” Brian said. He placed his large hand on your upper back, helping you sit up slowly.

“If you rip them i’m not stitching them up again,” EJ grumbled unhappily. He helped Toby free your ankles, your hands rubbing your wrist. “Is there a particular reason you had me tied up?” You inquired. Brian looked at EJ before answering. “There’s a chance that you could’ve had a seizure during your surgery,” He said slowly. You blinked a few times, lifting up your shirt. It was oversized on you and smelled like Toby. You almost asked how your clothes had been changed, but then you remembered Nova. “Yes, when my patients move during my operation it’s quite irritable,” EJ added. Your eyes searched the room, looking past the three that surrounded you.

“Where’s Nova? Is she alright? And Tim?” You asked. You went to jump off of the table, Toby stopping you. “T-They’re fine. They’re outside,” Toby informed you. It then occurred to you that you didn’t recognize your surroundings, at all. You appeared to be in a small cabin, a small fire crackling in the nearby living room. Despite how tiny it seemed, the soft essence made it comfortable. “EJ only let two of us in at a time. And it’s better Nova and Toby don’t get partnered together,” Brian explained. You glanced at EJ, whose soulless gaze seemed to stare directly into your soul. “Those regulations are over, if you’re going to stay here I need to have a meeting with all of you,” EJ said plainly. He sounded so unamused. So unfazed. As he removed his hands from his hoodie you noticed his ash gray skin.

Maybe all kinds of monsters were actually real, not just the one terrorizing you. Toby helped you over to the couch, Brian off to get Tim and Nova. Once you were all seated, EJ stood in front of you. Tim tried his hardest not to look at you, the guilt of almost getting you killed eating him alive. “I have been friends with The Operator for a long time. Longer than some of you have been born,” EJ began. Friends? Was this guy for real? You glanced over at Nova, whose gaze reminded on EJ. Despite her eyes looking elsewhere, she affectionately put her hand on top of yours. You wanted to question her sudden affection, the two of you hardly hugging before you met the boys. “I’m just going to say it like it is. The five of you are not going to make it out of this alive. I estimate maybe two or three of you. But not all of you,” He continued. You were searching for Toby and Brian’s reactions, the two listening intently.

You expected Tim to argue. Toby to interrupt. Brian to mumble an insult. But they all sat perfectly still, listening to the creature before them. Whoever EJ was, he meant business. “Which of the three of you survives depends on how you want to play your cards,” EJ stated flatly. Tim crossed his arms. “Skip over the drama and get to the point please,” He huffed. Despite EJ’s gaze being concealed by a mask, it wasn’t hard to sense that he despised being interrupted. “Nova and Y/n you’re both targets. Given the situation I suspect we won’t have any visitors for a while. He wants to push Nova to the point of suicide and I can only assume for Y/n he wants her as a proxy,” EJ continued. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Toby put his arm around you, pulling you closer.

“I can smell your curiosity. Being willing to die in an instant for someone you care about is noble. Too noble. He wants to exercise that nobility to its fullest extent,” He explained. Could he read thoughts too? What did he mean by he could smell you? “So what’s your recommendation for a plan wise guy?” Tim asked. EJ thought for a moment, his body stilling as he thought to himself. “Keep moving until your legs hurt. Train the girl to look after herself. Maybe start to pray,” He suggested sarcastically. Tim frowned as he stood up, glaring at EJ. “Dont push your luck Tim. You’re lucky she’s made it this far anyways,” The demon said plainly. Tim stormed outside, slamming the door behind him. You rose from the couch, abandoning Nova and Toby to shoot daggers at one another. You brushed past EJ, avoiding his eerie gaze.

You reached Tim on the back porch, a cigarette in between his fingers. “Tim…” You started. The brunette refused to look at you, leaning against the wooden railing of the porch. Endless rows of trees surrounded the cabin, the sun beaming through the leafs above. “You can’t keep blaming yourself for this,” You say. Tim flicked some ash off of his cigarette, before returning it to his lips. “My selfishness and greed landed you here. You know it,” He said harshly. A breeze blew past the two of you, your hand involuntarily cradling your wound. You slowly walked over to him, each step taking all of your energy. “Tim, I wanted this,” You argued. Tim noticed how weak you were, his gaze now avoiding looking at you. If he were to, he’d fold and want to touch you.

“You wanted a life stealing demon attached to you? I don’t think so,” Tim debated. You put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “I wanted you. The three of you. Everything else will work itself out,” You replied. Tim finally turned to face you, carelessly tossing his cigarette aside. “Tim I can’t do this without you. Masky isn’t enough. I need you too,” You say softly. You bring your hands to his face, cupping it. Tim brought his gloved hands to your wrist, admiring your soft features. When was the last time anyone preferred him over Masky? “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am,” Tim whispered. His eyes became glassy, internally fighting the urge to cry. “You can show me,” You suggested. This made Tim chuckle, the brunette delivering a kiss to your forehead. “With your stitches healing? Absolutely not. Nice try princess,” He chuckled.

He leaned his forehead against yours, your gaze meeting his. “Hey Tim?” You whispered. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his large hands settling on your waist.

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

Tim’s lips met yours, his kiss hungry and soft. He tasted like cigarettes and spearmint, your eyes fluttering shut. Your lips moved against his in harmony, the two of you like magnetics. You couldn’t help but feel more drawn to him, your hands gripping his jacket to bring him closer. Tim pulled away first, his face visibly flushed. He gave you a smile, before gathering both of your hands into his own. “I’m going to do everything to protect you. You’re going to be one of the three that survive,” He promised you. He brought you to his chest, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

In the distance, beyond a few rows of trees, the unknowing couple had an observer. He wasn’t a tall slender being like his boss, no. He was something much worse, much more sinister. Unlike his boss, who deployed mindless drones to continue his reign of terror, he considered himself to be much different. He preferred this. To be alone, slaughtering those he was instructed to. It gave him a justification. It gave him a pleasure so strong it was nearly greater than an orgasm.

He was tasked with finishing what Kate started. Except this time, where the chips fall where they may lay. The Operator was very clear. There were no restrictions now. Masky, Hoodie, and Toby, could easily be eliminated as well if they interfered with his task. Crouched in a tree his eyebrows furrowed as he observed you and Tim. You had three lovers? Possibly a fourth with the hot headed detective? He tilted his head to the side as Tim kissed you again. You were an intriguing target indeed. As he fiddled with his metal claws, he couldn’t help but wonder if any of you had figured out the truth yet.

The Operator didn’t want you as a proxy anymore, he wanted you dead.

\/

“Guys seriously I can get in bed just fine i’m okay,” You protested. Toby and Tim had been carrying you everywhere, determined to baby you to the highest extent. You refused to acknowledge or admit how much your stomach hurt. “You got stabbed through the kidney. It’s a miracle not only that you survived, but that EJ didn’t take the opportunity to eat it,” Tim said. They lowered you on to the bed, the oversized pants you were clothed with sagging. “EJ eats kidneys?” You questioned. You could feel your stomach churn. Tim went silent for a moment, realizing he hadn’t thought twice about what he had said.

“H-he eats much much more than that. But we were ver-r-ry clear in our deal with him,” Toby intervened. You propped yourself up against the headboard, the ancient oil lamp on your nightstand accompanying you with a dim light. “What deal?” You asked. Tim ran his fingers through his hair. “Dont worry about it,” He said, steering the conversation in a different direction. You frowned. Toby made himself quite comfortable beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Where’s Brian?” You asked. You leaned your head against Toby’s chest, trying to ignore how sore your body felt. “Out on patrol with Nova and EJ. There is no telling who The Operator might try to send here now that Kate’s dead,” Tim stated.

The memory of the blade of the axe slamming down into her skull resurfaced in your mind. The cold blooded killer in question was cuddling you like a teddy bear. He was humming to himself, like he hadn’t committed atrocious acts against God. Tim’s eyes flickered between you and Toby, the brunette swallowing. “Well, i’ll leave you guys to it,” Tim said quietly. He turned to leave, causing you to lean forward to try to grab his wrist. You hissed in pain at the sudden movement, your hand flying down to your healing wound. Your whine caused Tim to turn around, looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“Please stay. I need all of the support I can get right now,” You admitted weakly. Tim glanced at Toby, who gave him a subtle nod. The bed was a full sized one at most. Tim sighed, sliding off his boots and jacket. “You’re lucky I-” Tim began, stopping dead in his tracks once he realized what words were about to fall off of his lips. Your eyes widened, your heart beginning to race. Tim didn’t deserve to say those words to you. He didn’t think he was worthy. “You’re just lucky, princess,” He finished. He shuffled over to the other side of the bed, sliding in beside you. It was then a knock on the door drew your attention, a tired Brian stumbling inside.

“Please for the love of God let me sleep with you guys instead of being on patrol,” He pleaded. You raised your eyebrows, glancing at Tim. “What’s wrong?” He questioned. Brian sighed, shoving off his hoodie. You couldn’t help but momentarily stare at his built chest. He only wore a thin wife beater underneath, the sight making your heart skip a a beat. “EJ and Nova won’t stop yapping. They won’t stop talking and it’s driving me insane. The point of being on watch is to be subtle. Something neither of them know how to do apparently,” He groaned. Brian plopped down onto the bed, carefully laying his head on your inner thighs.

“A demon and Nova. S-sounds like the p-p-perfect match to me!” Toby snickered. You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. Tim laid his head on your shoulder, your right hand lacing its fingers with his. Your left found its way to Brian’s hair, playing with the locs as his eyes fluttered shut. “Shut up Toby,” Tim grumbled. You knew it wasn’t always going to be this easy. Recovery was going to be a bitch. Your mind began to spin, your eyes wide open as fears circulated around your mind. Tim seemed to notice your tension, giving your hand a squeeze.

“Relax princess we’re right here. No ones going anywhere.”

Your feet seemed to carry themselves, trudging through the forest. Thick vines littered themselves across the ground, causing you to consistently look down to watch your step. When you finally looked up, your eyes widened. A rusty gate fenced in what appeared to be a small graveyard. A cold chill ran down your spine, goosebumps rising across your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. On the gate was a piece of paper, a chaotic and unhinged drawing of The Operator scribbled across the page.

Narrowing your eyes, you grabbed the page angrily. “Stupid drawing,” You muttered. You crumbled up the page, tossing it aside. You shoved the gate open, the fog concealing a clear view of the gravestones. An owl hooted in the distance, the dim moonlight not able to illuminate anything past the relentless fog. You ignored the overgrown moist grass tickling your exposed ankles, continuing forward. Unsettled you hugged your arms, ignoring the eerie feeling of being watched. You did a quick scan of your surroundings, unable to see anything.

Swallowing your fear and unsettlement you walked forward, with each step creating a louder sound of static. You reached the headstones, noticing five of them sat in a perfect row. You managed to see past the fog, your heart beginning to pound as you read the names.

Timothy Wright. Brian Thomas. Nova Parker. Tobias Rogers. Y/n Y/l/n.

You felt your stomach churn, your body boiling with rage. “You can’t have them! I won’t let you!” You yelled into the void. You clenched your fist, your nails digging into your palms. “You hear me you bald fuck!? You can’t have them! They mine,” You screamed. Your voice echoed throughout the trees, your words ringing throughout your ears. You gritted your teeth, the sound of static overpowering your words. You fell to your knees, clutching your head. Your lips were apart, a scream surely escaping your throat, yet you couldn’t hear it.

With every ounce of energy you had left you swallowed, forcing yourself to formulate words. “You’ll never find us anyways you bastard!” You screeched. An abnormally large snow white hand grabbed your shoulder, its fingers digging into your skin.

“Oh my foolish child, I already have.”

—> next chapter

[bonnieura]

every time i hear a freaky grandma nitpick JFK's weight after 1960 an angel loses its wings and god kills a kitten. I cant ever understand why they [american public] are so fixated with his appearance and especially his weight. It just screams fatphobia. literally no one is dying if he gained a few pounds . its not ww3. The way its said is always just so condescending and backhanded? putting his early life his illnesses his medications and his plenty near-death experiences into consideration i am damn glad he managed to be even if only a little, HEALTHY . something he literally never got the chance to say about himself

you can say that it's a given considering his whole campaign strategy was built around his *youth* and looks in general but that does not take away from the RUTHLESSNESS i see from people when his weight is the subject of matter. and thats from today in *2024* like jesus christ imagine how it was in the 60s 😭

you can say that the "reason he put on weight" (as if it even needs a reason, he wasnt overweight or anything at all) was to look less boyish and more like formidable or something for the elections. he already had to deal with criticism on being too young for the presidency. And all of that isnt something to be ashamed or remorseful of at all either?? I genuinely dont get why so many to this day just outright degrade him for it. as if a middle aged man not being borderline underweight is satan's incarnate.

speaking of underweight, he was the aforementioned for YEARS during his service in the senate and the house. having just returned from ww2 with near fatal injuries he was clearly ill and malnourished. And yet i still see people romanticize it as if its something commendable. You can commend him pulling through and getting his health together even if just barely, not whatever people glorify of his illness

If you read a little back you can see i mentioned his early life. well yeah thats cause his parents single handedly almost gave him and his siblings [tw] || eating disorders || [unfortunately i wouldnt be surprised if he had one] from disturbingly young ages . Im certain that it did a number on him and stuck to some degree. So I am damn glad he was able to break out of it [or at least look like he did , i cant tell you whether he did manage to break out or not considering he was hypervigilant on his appearance till the day he hit the grave atp

plus im pretty sure some of his medicine consisted of cortisone [known for puffing up the face and leading the patient to gain weight]. I hate how hyperfixated people are with his weight and body. yeah no damn wonder he was so worried 24/7 and love or hate the man literally no one should have to go through that. theres so much more i wanna say rn but im tired of yapping

[aphrogeneias]

Talking about bestfriend!Eddie: you know when you're so close to someone you start picking up speech patterns and mannerisms? I wonder how it would be like that ya know

Like maybe you're just sitting there waiting at the lunch table, he comes out and spooks the shit out of you, and you just shout "JESUS H. CHRIST-" Or quote some random Lord Of The Rings reference he always says and he just goesall soft. Or maybe finds funny as hell, idk

Elabore

the best thing would be if you'd never read the lord of the rings trilogy, despite eddie always telling you that you need to, for some reason you just never got around to it, and then one day when you're at the hellfire table with the boys you casually quote something like "well, you know, all that is gold does not glitter and all" and everyone just looks at you like you grew a second head

dustin, with his much beloved audacity, asks you, "since when did you read fellowship?" and obviously, you're confused.

"i... haven't."

"where did you hear that, then?"

"isn't that an old saying? eddie says it all the time."

when you look at him, sitting at the head of the table, his smile almost splits his face in half, dimples in full display. "told you, you had to read'em."

"why should i when you're always yapping about them?" you roll your eyes, but your smile is just as big as his.

that same week eddie buys you your own copy of the first book, with his own handwritten inscription dedicated to you on the first page.

[sstardustt3]

can you please do dating johnny cade hc?

Dating Johnny Cade hcs- the outsiders

tags/warnings- brief mention of smoking, when I catch you Mr and Mrs cade when I catch those bitches, implied codependency???? (if you squint), mostly fluff, a little angst, a mean girls reference if you squint, not double-checked for grammatical errors or misspelling

authors note- masterlist and request rules coming soon??? Perhaps??? Also I’m gonna make something abt dally next I have like a whole list of characters I’m gonna write for soon

-requests and reposts are always open and welcome-

-I think Johnny probably noticed you first because I think of him as a very observant and hyper aware of like everything (which I think is cannon if I’m not mistaken which I could be)

-I don’t think he really pays attention all that much in school so he just sits and looks at people so that’s probably how he noticed you

-he didn’t make a move of a longgg time because he was under the that you were way out of his league and you just wouldn’t like him

“Just go fucking talk to them Jesus Christ”

“It’s not that easy dal, they don’t like me I told you that already.”

“Listen if you don’t go talk to them, I will.”

“No,no,no!”

-and just like that, he decided forced to go talk to you

-he was stumbling like an idiot for the first half of the conversation but he eventually got it together and you two got along fine and he even managed to get your number!

-he would probably keep you at arms length for a while, he's not the most trusting person and ontop of that he doesn't really know how to love someone properly and he really did not want to hurt you

-his only good example was the curtis parents, and soda and sandy but I don't think he hung around either of them that much. He doesn't hang out with soda much anyways so being around him and his girlfriend just felt odd and the curtis' acted more like parents when he was around. and god forbid he asks dally.

-so it definitely takes him a while to get comfortable but when he does he's a good boyfriend

-i think he definitely looked at like a lifestyle magazine and read a section on what girls like repeatedly to make sure he was doing shit right

-he loves silence sometimes, like adores it. you two have sat for hours just looking at nothing together

-no doubt in my mind there has been times the gang has walked in on yall just staring at a blank wall

"..."

"..."

"are they okay-"

"they're future psych ward patients for sure."

-on the contrary though if you yap a lot, he's also perfectly okay with that and sometimes he'll join in (especially if it's gossip)

-that being said you are in fact invited to his and ponyboys gossip sessions and you were thoroughly surprised about how much he knows (that's why his hair's so long, it's full of secrets.)

-since it's my favorite headcannon of mine that he is really good at making stuff when valentines day comes around he'll give you roses or whatever your favorite flower is made out of either legos or colored paper

-he spends a lot of time at your house and also your parents probably love him

-oh my god you two on a roof together?? smoking in the winter??? maybe a cigarette kiss???

-sorry for getting sidetracked but speaking of kisses and just general pda, I think he's not all that big on pda and I don't think he likes to get touched in general but if you do, hold him gently and I guarantee he would be as red as a tomato with the most calm face ever

-I don't think he would really know what to think about that tbh

-like he's not clueless when it comes to romance (he has dallas as a friend bffr) and he's heard all about kissing and hand holding but no one told him how good it feels to be held like something small and delicate (he'll never tell you that though)

-now, on the other hand, he's not really as nervous or shocked by kissing and as much as he's inexperienced he has the enthusiasm to make up for it, he'll catch on pretty quickly

-that being said every time he's just like standing somewhere with you or like waiting in line for something he'll like give you a peck on the cheek, hold your hand , something like that

-rounding back to him not telling you about how he feels (I know I barely mentioned it but shhhhh) I think he's not good at communication

-again he's not the most trusting person in the world and also it says in the book or at least implied(again, I could be wrong and this is not verbatim) that he is passive and quiet so he can avoid being picked out from the crowd and to just overall avoid trouble and unwanted attention

-so I think that would carry over into his relationships to avoid an argument and you being disappointed in him

-so when he's like jealous or upset about something you did he keeps it inside and when it comes out it's just a lot

-i don't think he would full on yell but he would definitely get emotional kinda like he did in the church with ponyboy in that one scene with ponyboy (Istg i can not figure out what that scene is called someone please for the love of god tell me)

-he would almost immediately apologize because as I said before he can't stand you being mad at him

i'm going to stop here i do have more thoughts in what he would be like as a boyfriend so if this gets enough attention I would be delighted to do a part 2

overall score? -8.5/10

can be a little bit of an ass, a little insecure but loves you <3

-requests and reposts are always open and welcome!-

[wewebaggit]

All these idiots yapping about Palestine like they're the saviours of mankind and Palestine and patting themselves for hating Noah. (Go ahead. Hate him actually. I hate people for how they wear their hair. Fair enough. And I'm not here nor there on my guess on him being an actual Zionist) But can y'all just not pretend this oooh disappointment is deep? Like please? Can y'all like maybe not reduce it to a teen actor visiting a place and posting about it. Like that's absolutely the worst thing to have happened to Palestine. Whether he posts or not, Jewish people are gonna be visiting Israel. Cuz their holy land is in Israel. Which is why this outcry is fucking stupid and THE BIGGEST EXAMPLE of dumb hoes virtue signaling. Y'all stupid for putting this energy into hating a Jewish guy visiting Israel. They aren't even the largest contributors to its tourism. Y'all dumb bitches need to look at the followers of Christ for that. More than half of the total visitors in some years. But y'all wont. Cuz I see your ass. It's just waiting to shit on Jews and Jews alone. Especially to that one self righteous bitch who is screenshotting other's people's post and calling them dumb. Check yourself. N then check Google for other places EXACTLY in the situation of Palestine. But not glamorous enough for your shiny bleeding heart to post about. Also they have celebs you can shit on for visiting those places. Just so you'd maybe wanna talk about it. Fucking a-holes sermonising about brown people rights when it fucking suits their own skin tone.

"He needs to tell people he's not a Zionist." Ya well everyone going to Saudi needs to scream and shout that they do not support Saudi terror funding and their treatment of migrants. Everyone going to Kashmir must scream and shout that hey we're here for the Kashmiris and not for the occupier forces. Anyone visiting China must also wear a Free Tibet and Free Turkestan shirts. And the whole of the descendants of white colonisers need to tell people you're not a racist, supporter of eco-terrorism, exceptional, bigot, islamophobe, antisemite (funny how both apply), pro-life, anti-black people everytime you visit the corner cafe and post about it on insta. Ya that app owned by that bugger who wanted to take away free internet from brown countries. ("bUt iT's nOt OngOiNg tHo....." bro we're still reeling from that shit and it hasn't even been 100 years so please don't. Neither did that dumb dead hoe Lizzie nor her older than jesus son Charlie who loves to fancy dress has so much as even apologised. Refused to apologise in fact).

Pat yourselves on the back. You fought Zionism with antisemitism and homophobia.

[rodolfoparras]

So I enjoy a bunch of different classic horror movies and slashers like Scream, Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Bubba/Thomas from TCM (bubba is og Thomas is remastered) and Jason Voorhees from FT13 make me soooo fucking sad 😕 need to yap about it for a sec

Idk if you've seen any of them or know lore or if I've talked about them with you? I think I did with Charlie, but I harass you both so much it's blending together, so imma yap for details (I could be wrong on stuff!! But I know the general lore for TCM and I've seen all FT13 movies but Jason X because I hate his design)

But both boys are disabled, Jason was born "with severe facial deformities, Hydrocephalus, an abnormally large head, and mental disabilities", but with Leatherface it's kinda all over the place with lore because of the different movies but he does have facial deformities too, like no nose and the og actor said he thinks that bubba never learned to properly speak

With Leatherface, his mom gave birth to him in a meat factory and died shortly after, and her manager tossed him in a dumpster. Luda Mae saved him and raised him and he later worked at the same fucking factory in the same room his birth mom died in 😕

With Jason, he drowned as a kid at camp because he couldn't swim well and all the camp counselors were busy having sex, so his mom basically went crazy and killed all the next camp counselors when the camp reopened. She dies at the end, the final girl decapitated her, and when Jason comes back from the dead, he kept her head and her sweater in the next movie.

Their stories fuck me up bruh. I cried to my bf one time about it on voice messages 😭😭

My poor guys did NOT deserve this

-🐧

Wait these are such heartbreaking backstories Jesus Christ?😭 never thought deformities on a fictional serial killer could actually be their disabilities! I always imagine that they must’ve gotten them from one of their killing sprees! Also this is kind of how many of yall will write ur ocs backstory because why was the poor guy forced to work where his mother was killed 😭 also Jason? The fact that he actually had family who loved him lots so much so she was driven to insanity because of it? And in some way it makes me understand why he kept her head?

[scratchandplaster]

Stack The Deck - PART 13

CW: Carewhumper, non-con touching, referenced stalking/non-con bathing/nudity, gaslighting, panic attack

PART 12 ⇽ [Masterlist] ⇾ PART 14

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

All of this could be worse, Elliot had to constantly remind himself of this fact; so, so much worse.

At the very least he didn't find himself in the trunk of a Honda or a crack house bathroom, just the sparsely decorated home of Chris, being far more tidy than he'd like to give him credit for. Said man had disappeared a few minutes ago, leaving Elliot to stew in bewilderment. The spots where skin had met skin started to itch.

Focus, come on. Neither the lonely houseplant next to the TV nor the properly aligned armchair could help him; behind the bed he was placed in stood a dresser with a full ashtray on it. The sun that had so rudely woken him up before already moved on, but the window it entered through didn't budge an inch, letting the muffled sound of cars driving up and down the road flow through the glass. They were at least on the third floor.

Jump, a harsh force pulled at his stomach, now. What else would he break in the process?

The smell of vanilla and sugar let him come to a bit more, a sour taste gathering at the thought of what's next to come. Even though Elliot had no idea why he was taken again, the animal part of his brain prepared for the worst regardless; knowing this time could be dangerous in a whole different sort of way.

"Do you like pancakes?" Morris called out, looking back from the kitchen to check if this was still real, if Elliot was really with him now, "Of course you do."

Did he? Elliot wasn't so sure about it anymore, he couldn't get his next steps on track: a rescue he couldn't remember, the warm welcome, the fact that Amber was just old news - where did this suddenly come from? What do you call a joke nobody's laughing about?

Wrapped up in the hysteric circle of repetitive thoughts, his hands started to knead hills and valleys into the blanket and rewarded his already tense arm with a short sting of fire. Elliot usually avoided to, but looking down at his palms, he noticed the rough red lines of dark scab across them.

"Did I fall?" he whispered to nobody in particular.

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, you were bleeding; your knees too. Don't you feel that?" The well-meaning hint fell on deaf ears.

Though Elliot did feel that. An all-too familiar burn started spreading its stinging tendrils out to reach his elbow first and if not appeased quickly enough, it would only grow further. On some days, it crawled up behind his eyes.

But not yet, there was still time. Finally ready to act, Elliot threw the heavy covers off his legs, which were not tied together despite the uneasy memories. He could work with that.

The cooked batter already built up bubbles, he could see it from where he was standing now, the kitchen also being the entrance area and final room to separate them from the outside world. After flipping it over to reveal a perfectly browned crust, Morris at last noticed him: "I thought of you, moving north into the wilderness to ride moose and become a park ranger or whatever. She got me good; upstate, my ass!"

Jesus Christ, what is he going on about? Elliot had read an article about brain damage some odd months ago: poor Morris probably had an aneurysm during the time they didn't see each other, and hopefully would be blessed with another one soon. This had to be it. He, for one, didn't act like a guy who got invested in a spontaneous religious awakening.

Elliot swallowed hard, interrupting the senseless yapping and looking into Morris' steam-covert face that only underlined his unsettling glassy expression: "I can't do this again. Please, I give you everything."

They faced each-other while still keeping a good distance, with the door to the hallway practically only a jump away. Elliot could make it.

"The bathroom is on your right," Morris said through a patient smile, "Freshen up a bit."

--------

Coward. Even a splash of cold water on his puffy eyes didn't soothe the lingering frustration; if this were the Olympics, he'd be awarded the golden medal for backpedaling, especially when it came to his own survival. You dumb fucking coward.

Elliot even lacked the guts to lock the bathroom door. When push comes to shove, one could bet Morris would just kick the hinges in.

Where had the time gone; the time he should have used to prepare, to take action against Morris? Not boxing, naturally, but something... anything meaningful. All that followed was well deserved, it seemed, the punishment for wasting away in his childhood bedroom and staring motionless at a wall for eight months.

The bathroom mirror gave a flash of relief as Elliot pressed his forehead against the cool glass. Think! 

For the first time in a long year, he looked at his reflection. A broken man glared back through empty eyes. Single beads of water ran down his chin to be soaked up into his shirt, already damp with the stench of fear and sweat.

The shirt he wore the whole night; a shirt he did not wear yesterday, one he did not even own, meaning that Morris had to- Oh god.

Maybe he should think less, before losing the last bit of sanity.

Not that it mattered, Elliot's only goal was clear: convince Chris to leave him alone, even when he had to bear his unorthodox signs of reparation. Smile and nod and play Crazy Eights until he opens the door: old habits and such. Nothing to lose this time, he could do it!

As Elliot awkwardly stalked back to the kitchen, the stinging had already engulfed his whole left hand and throbbed with every horrid expectation. One favor Morris could do him, if this went south too, was to cut the damn thing off already. Turning around into the kitchen fully now, he was greeted by the same stupid grin that send him away. At least one of us is having fun.

Elliot was gently led to the table and forced to sit tight until the chef was gracious enough to join him; dragging his chair to position it opposite to his guest. A stack of warm pancakes was placed carefully in front of both; they didn't look half bad.

So this was the apology breakfast then.

"Here you go, Ell!"

The cutlery slid right next to the plate and with Chris closer than ever before, Elliot could feel his body heat on his face. By reflex, his head curled down to make himself as small as possible, as if mesmerized by the pancakes he was blankly staring at.

"Say when." A thin stream of sticky maple started to coat them: the apology syrup, surely.

He would have appreciated all the effort in a different context, but with his sweaty right clenched around the butter knife, any sense of domestic bliss was lost.

Elliot felt his mouth go dry in anticipation; bile already collecting further.

None of them had noticed how heavy their breathing went, so Morris decided to be more brisk and let the hand he had positioned so innocently on the backrest slip down the small of Elliot's neck.

This is the apology- the-the apology...

The touch of rough fingers against his sensitive skin made Elliot shudder violently and writhe away from the contact. Even though that wasn't a "when", the steady drizzle of syrup stopped in its flow.

Letting his hand wander even further down to dip under his collar and between his shoulder blades, Chris too was mesmerized. His skin felt pleasantly warm to the touch; stroking back and forth, up and down to soothe his boy who was nearly losing it again. So tense.

He knew it only got worse the longer this medicine he demanded was held back, so why not enjoy the last calm moments for a while. Brushing the peach fuzz at the base of his hairline awarded Chris a low whine. So pretty.

His left arm was sore by now and already cooking up a storm, Elliot could feel it.

Morris felt glad his guest was deadly focused on the meal he made them, otherwise his bright red face would only prove how excited he was getting.

He hadn't missed how much longer Elliot's hair had grown, still happy that he managed to wash it last night. Speaking of which, was he always this pale and skinny? He did look kinda rough, Chris determined with a frown, they hadn't taken good care of him, wherever he'd been before.

Not for much longer, of course.

Elliot too had learned from his mistakes, though he never expected to use his newfound knowledge. Enjoying a bite to wake up god-knows-where; no, thank you! It made little sense to take his meds and just drug him still, but he had to anticipate senseless acts from a senseless man.

Elliot wouldn't look up, hell no, that face just helped to make him throw up faster.

"Sorry, but I'm not eating this," Elliot murmured, unsure if there was a gentle way of teaching him that.

Morris looked sheepish: "Oh, is it burned? The first ones always get a little bit more...crispy."

He neither took silence nor no for an answer, but two could play that game.

"So, what do you want to do after this?", Morris asked. He hoped to get the best use out of their intimacy before the inevitable temporary mood killer.

"You talk a lot." Sadly, not one coherent sentence. So Elliot refused to give in to the chit-chat.

"I'm just excited," Morris admitted quietly while desperate to hide the red blotches on his face.

Excited about what?

He had to sound like a broken record by now: "Did I do something wrong? I didn't tell anyone, I swear!"

Morris sighed.

"No, no, I'm not angry with you, is that so hard to believe?" He couldn't stop playing with full, dark strands of hair. "I just said these things to buy more time."

Collecting what remained of his shaky words, Elliot failed to bite his tongue any longer. Sweet-talk me all you want.

"Y-you said, you'd kill my mother."

Morris would never, scout's honor! That woman was huge.

"Yeah, I didn't mean that, obviously!" came the annoyed huff.

Obviously, like Morris wasn't a dangerous man to be around. Obviously, like it was Elliot's fault for believing threats against their lives.

"Wouldn't make a difference if you had told them, either."

A difference for Elliot nonetheless, one could suppose, seeing how drenched in tears he suddenly was. In another life, one where he got to be less of a disappointment, he told his parents and doctors the truth to make peace with himself. 

At worse, new accusations only fast-tracked Morris tardy rendezvous with justice. Dragging an unconscious stranger through the streets perhaps did raise some eyebrows... Do you even know about the warrant? Maybe you like a spark of danger.

Unable to protest, free-flowing tears got thumbed away by a caring hand and unbeknownst to Elliot, Morris simply loved that he let himself cry freely.

In the open space behind them, a phone started humming anew. The unhappy musician was finally lucid enough to recognize the melody this time: Für Elise.

In case he had been smart enough to spend the last months growing a backbone, he would have spat Morris straight in the face. The sheer audacity made all tears ebb in an instant.

After what had been more than enough time with strange hair between his fingers, Morris took a seat and let his head drop into his hands: "I hope that doesn't bother you, I'm just gonna let it ring."

Actually, it did bother Elliot, but in a whole different way.

"Where's my phone?", he asked instead, because surly, whatever scenario he was dragged into, Morris considered him sympathetic enough to gift him one call. Like in the movies.

Bet he isn't dumb enough to let it lie around.

The response he got was a worthless shrug: "You didn't have one on you."

How well did that freak search me?

The only other explanation was him losing it during the fall, where and when this supposedly happened was a whole different mystery to him. Taking a hesitant forkful of batter into his mouth, Elliot hoped his good manners would earn him a blink of silence: time he needed to think about his next steps. For now, it only brought a satisfied grin onto himself.

After a few more minutes, the ringing died down.

--------

It became extremely clear that Elliot's plan would go up in flames. A chat with Chris, to smile and look pretty, forcing half a pancake down his tightening throat - he really put all into it. It wasn't enough.

His face burned brightly now too, from fear or rising nerval misery was unclear, all he knew was that it hurt. Pearls of sweat slipped along his fingertips into his lap while Morris was too busy cleaning up the table: "I guess you're full for now, huh?"

The low coo only made him twitch in his seat. Elliot had to stop losing himself.

"How's your...the-the rabbit. You had one of those, right?" Chris asked, turning towards the sink to put the dishes in.

"Good," Elliot tried to say, but any effort to speak was cut off by a choking flare that shot up his neck. The ache hit him without warning throughout every muscle fiber and surged right back into its birthplace, over and over, until nothing but a hollow wheeze shook his body.

It hadn't been this bad in a long time; his skull threatened to split into pieces and if nobody was here to help, then Elliot was glad to take the job.

Fuck Chris and his absolution, if he didn't want to finish what he started, so be it.

This wasn't an abandoned crack house, he didn't need to leave the building, but just had to find someone who lived here too.

Move, the force demanded again, now; and this time Elliot listened.

Without second thought, he slid from the chair and leaped for the door, even closer to it than ever before.

One -two- three steps now and with the door latch just in reach, he-

A thick arm quickly wrapped around his waist to throw him unceremoniously against the nearest wall. His left hand was on fire.

"Let go!" Elliot gasped loudly; too close to screaming for Chris' liking, so a skilled grip around the neck made him shut it quite nicely.

"Calm down, it's alright. Just don't be loud." At least right now. Nobody minded him being noisy elsewhere...soon, he couldn't expect this right off the bat. "Look, I'll let go, but the door is locked anyway, so don't freak out again."

What Elliot tried didn't came as a surprise, but hurt him nonetheless. Morris was more disappointed than upset.

"I'm not doing anything to you, I'm just trying to help!"

Still pressed against the wood-chip wallpaper, one fist grabbing his left arm and one flat on his chest, Elliot could do nothing but take ragged breaths. He was going insane, without question.

"Then help me," he wailed, "nothing of this is alright, I want to leave!"

"You want your next fix, but I won't let that happen, sweetie," he replied sullenly, noticing how Elliot cringed at the pet name. There was enough time to find one that fit.

"I'm not a fucking junkie!" he tried now, his breaking voice didn't make this any more convincing, much less his mood.

"Then why so antsy, huh?"

"It hurts," Elliot mewled, trying to pull his hand free, "just stop!"

"Why? I'm not even holding on tight..."

What was this man going on about? Elliot wondered if he was that dumb; or maybe found it funny.

"You know why," he whispered baffled.

Morris' disappointment spread. He knew what that meant, an imminent truth he tried to sugarcoat for a while: the answer to the question of why Elliot didn't show up for the Oratorio, or any other show after that.

Loosening his grip on the arm, but still pressing Elliot closer against the wall, he took his time to inspect the damned hand in question, to really look at his past fuck-up.

It was clearly thinner and paler, even compared to the rest of Elliot, except for the gnarly red scar line that ran from his wrist all the way to the back of his pinky. Fresh new wounds aside, the weakly curled up pair of fingers, four and five respectively, refused to spread out, not held by force but lack of it.

Morris could feel the rigid metal wires under the dewy, paper-like skin. A few pins in there, or a plate at least. The noise when knife met bone played on loop in his ears: the moment once sharp crunch turned into soft smacks.

This wasn't supposed to happen, all of it was simply wrong.

"Why does it look like that, Ell?"

"You tell me, asshole!"

The tension between them rose high again, and with their faces just inches apart, Elliot prayed that he overheard his insult. Any more pressure and his fingers would just snap on impact.

Despite it all, the confused man didn't pay him any mind, too focused on the fruit of his labor: "That doesn't make sense, it should be back to normal by now."

Through the smoke of pain and leftover narcotics, Elliot wondered if he could be braver this time around, as he pulled the hand back to his side.

"Doesn't matter anymore. I want - I need to go home. I don't understand why you're doing this at all. You're so-"

Different, yes. His Elliot was on the best way to finally understand. Chris didn't want to confess yet, it would be too much at once.

"I missed you." The soothing tone was put on in good faith.

"Missed?" It was practically spat at him. Missed what? Beating me? "Didn't you do enough already?"

Craving revelation, though refusing to back down, both men clenched their jaw tight.

"You need to stop, Morris," Elliot had one last desperate offer to give in case Chris really was insane, not in the pop psychology sort of way, but by being a seriously sick man: "I-I can visit you, okay?!"

Why visit when you can just stay?

"Elliot, quit being so formal."

A buzz ripped them apart. Go to hell, Elise!

Gladly, Morris let go of his chest to stomp over to the kitchen counter.

"Fucking Belanger, I swear to god." With a swift motion, the call was ended. It was obvious that dear Chris tried to keep his facade alive, even with all nerves on edge.

"That's my - uh, that's not really my boss, he only annoys me sometimes."

Elliot nodded wordlessly, as if he could give a rat's ass about Morris and his little pusher friends running around town, playing UNO all night long and ruining other people's relationships.

"Just ignore that, he's from Quebec so," he rolled his eyes excessively, "y'know?!"

No, Elliot didn't know. Respectively, he knew nothing, even after spending all morning with him. The oh-so obvious reason for his stay was still a blank hole of ignorance for him.

He couldn't believe a single word coming from that bastard's mouth, he was a liar back then, and he would be one on every single day to come.

Elliot didn't even register how badly he was shivering.

"We just take it slowly," Morris offered, but struggled to cleanse the atmosphere, "only talk and spend some time together. Do you know Azul? The game with the little tiles?"

Elliot sensed how this would go, the bile in his mouth started having the horrible aftertaste of moonshine and ichor.

Oh god, I can't do this again.

Dizziness hit him from nowhere and took all leftover strength from his already drained body. Panting heavily, Elliot didn't remember how he ended up on the cold floor, just how he kept on shaking whilst staring at Morris through blurry eyes.

As if underwater, no words reached him.

He'd laugh at himself, how the thought of another game night made his already wild panic spike, if his lungs didn't trick him into believing he was drowning on land.

I can't do this again, I can't do this again.

"Hey!"

A weight was placed on his chest, wrapping around his ribs and holding him close - so, so close as if to press all the fear out of him. His mind was racing, partly happy the oncoming lightheadedness alleviated the pain being pumped into him with every fluttering heartbeat.

Inhaling was needles in his lungs, exhaling pointless. The air refused to leave against the source of the comforting pressure.

"-need my pills," was the last thing he could force out, before the rest of Chris' heavy body buried him in a tight embrace. Next to Elliot's ear, he shook his head and shushed him gently.

"You're good for me" he murmured, fighting to keep the clutch, "I'm sorry, we'll make this work."

Unable to help himself, Elliot gave in to the dark walls that were closing in around them, praying for unconsciousness to take him away quickly.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Thanks for reading 🤍 [Masterlist]

Taglist: @whatwasmyprevioususername, @canislycaon24

[swifty-fox]

It’s not an ask but it’s about burnout John/priest Gale.

I can see so clearly that John in a way to mess with Gale would kneel in front of him to take the communion bread (I’m not religious but I know it’s not common to kneel for the body/blood of Christ) so Gale would tell him to stand up.

And John would just look at him all innocent like and say “why would you deny this simple gesture of reverence from a devout believer, Father?” Opening his mouth, waiting for Gale to place the wafer on his awaiting tongue. And when Gale does he would lick his thumb in the process looking him in the eye moaning a bit.

Gale would get so flustered he’d almost drop the wafer holder….

Sorry for the brain rot and yapping, can’t wait for the next part of Little Beast ❤️❤️

luckily for YOU I am not religious but I have spent way too much time in church.

So *ahem* background

Gale is not Roman Catholic but Byzantine/Eastern Orthodox. Blah blah history its basically the catholic church but they tend to worship the Virgin mary above either god or Jesus. It's a lot more conservative and more devout in a lot of ways. like I kinda mention in the fic, Gale when walking down the center aisle would kneel and bow at every single pew to the front cross.

I think its only for special occasions but you also bow and kiss iconography of the mother son & spirit.

I don't take communion as I find it disrespectful since I don't believe but I did receive my First in an Irish catholic church. While you don't kneel beforehand some people do after receiving communion. It's more of a quick bob down since there's people waiting BUT if its something slower or its just you you absolutely can and do take communion on your knees.

In the more conservative feild of gales church it would be very in line for John to have been raised to take communion while kneeling. Yes he turned that horny at a young age.

Gale would tell him to stand up because he knows what John looks like on his knees taking a very different communion from him. Body and blood is right. Suck his fingers and cross himself, hands in the proper order the way he's supposed to even though Gale is feeding him the wafer.

"thank you father."

[one-man-blue-man-group]

Hello Sneeg, I was sent by the audience to come talk to you. Though as you can not respond at this moment I will just give you a few topics we can address when you finally return.

Do you think your family has moved on in the sixteen years since your disappearance? Perhaps replaced you with another child? Or do you think they are still searching for you after all these years in hopes of getting their little boy back?

Do you remember any of your life before you joined Showfall Media? I know some of your friend had their memories sparked by things in their environment while others have forgotten. What about the shows you were cast in while you were here? How many of your deaths do you remember?

If you do not wish to talk about the skeleton, Frank, then why is so much of your online identity centered around him? Do you actually miss Frank? Did you know any of his life prior to being dead?

I believe those questions should be enough to make up for lost time.

-💠

jesus CHRIST you do not shut the fuck up huh. yapping yapperton over here. you really have nothing better to do

anyways 1. dont know, dont care. family didn’t particularly care for me or like. anyone for that matter. so. doesnt matter

2. yeah i was taken when i was 12 so i remember my life before hand. i remember the other shows ive been in, for the most part. i remember every single death every time my heart stopped every time they brought it back again and again and again and again

3. …yeah, i kinda miss him. the doctors said he was probably a hallucination due to lack of human contact/conversation, i dont think- is he real?

[negasonicimagines]

Afraid / Part 1: An Overdue Introduction

Wade makes his triumphant return to Xavier’s with Logan and Laura in tow. He makes a powerful new friend who has an interesting reputation of her own… And a cause worth joining.

Of course, the first place to go is Xavier’s. Logan needs to see it for himself. Wade joins him, eager to take credit for his return and yap with Yukio. 

With Laura in tow, they approach the door. She seems uneasy, but that’s no surprise. If they’re accepted back into the fold, this is where they’ll be living: a place of warmth and kindness unlike anything she’s known before. 

They enter, finding the usual chaos of students fighting like siblings and chattering amongst each other as they carry on from place to place. 

Until one head happens to turn and see them. 

Then it’s a frenzy of people dying for an explanation, how does he look so young? Where has he been? Who’s the girl? Why’s he with Deadpool, of all people? 

Just as quickly, though, the crowd silences and parts. 

“Logan,” you say softly. “Is it- Is it really you?”

“Uh…” He trails off. 

“Jesus Christ, didn’t realize you were a creep in this universe, for fuck’s sake, she barely looks older than Laura here! Guess all the legends are pervs.”

You cut him off with a glare.

“Only one, I see. Better than none, even if I expected more after you took so long. Much, much better. And she’s beautiful. Yours, I take it?”

“Uh, well…” 

“Well? They didn’t give you anything, did they?!” You grab his arm, checking him for track marks that wouldn’t be there even if they had. “How do you look so much younger?” 

“I’m not… Him. I’m from a different universe.”

“Fuck, alright. So he is dead, then. I was hoping he’d just gone underground. But she is one of yours, right?”

“Yeah, uh… One, though?”

“There’s a lot we’re gonna have to catch you up on. That is, if you’re still in.”

“In?” 

“Yes, in. Dismantling the Weapon X network piece by piece? Identifying people from the records we acquire? Securing the survivors and the clones and bringing them here? Didn’t you do any of that?” 

“No. No, I didn’t.” 

“And neither did I!” Wade cries out. “What the fuck, why wasn’t I invited?”

“You were one of the survivors we secured and tried to bring here,” you say cooly, but it doesn’t quite land. You’re clearly angry, you almost appear betrayed. 

“You asked if they gave me anything. Why would they, and allow me to return? Wouldn’t they want to do more shit to me?” Logan wonders.

“They offer us things sometimes, when they encounter us. Addictive ‘medicine’ to make us younger, stronger, whatever. It’s how we lost Datamine. It’s how we lost a lot of the survivors. They switch sides or go back. Hence the concern that they may have given you something in exchange for being a spy. But I’m choosing to trust you… For now.”

“And me? I’m the one who brought him here!” Wade squeals. 

“You?” you laugh. “No. You had the opportunity.”

“Who died and made you queen of rescuing the lab rats?!”

“He did,” you reply. “And so did my father. Watch who you’re calling a lab rat.”

“Shit, I- Yeah, no coming back from that. I’m sure he was a great guy, totally didn’t deserve it.”

“Mm, great guy? Nah. But based on my research, he tried to be one.” 

“Based on your research? What, you couldn’t tell when he made you waffles and told you bedtime stories and all that?”

“He didn’t. I was adopted. Never met him. Do you realize where you are?”

“Fuck me! I just keep stepping in it! Can we just start over?”

“I’m feeling generous. Sure.”

“Hi, I’m Deadpool. I like doing bad things to bad people. I hear you’ve got a super cool secret squad where you help people get out of the evil government program that I survived. I’d like to join you!”

“Well, Deadpool, you seem like a promising candidate. Sure, you can join at the entry level. You’ll assist me in analyzing data and capturing targets for questioning. Due to your current status within the group, you won’t know whether the target is former personnel or a survivor, so handle them with care. Is this acceptable?”

“Sure is, uh… What’s your name?”

You extend your hand to shake his, and he takes it. Your grip is just as firm as his. 

“Y/N Levi. Also known as Leviathan.”

He jerks back. 

“Oh my god, you’re that girl from the TV. That lawsuit!”

“That’s me,” you sigh, and Wade can practically see the Sims negative affinity symbol above your head. He tries to spin it as best as he can: 

“It was really brave of you to testify publicly like that. Gosh, you were what, 15?”

You nod. 

“What’s he talking about?” Logan asks.

“My adoptive parents tried to sue the agency they adopted me from. Prenatal tests weren’t as reliable back then, and my biological parents didn’t have any known mutants in their family history. I was sold as a normie. They wanted their $30,000 back, plus medical expenses for my schizophrenia, which is where my mutation comes from. But they’d been informed of the risks, including my biological family having a history of a whole variety of mental illnesses to make a brain bouquet with, so… No dice. They lost the case, and me.”

“Wait, you’re telling me I could’ve had super cool brain powers and instead I’m just, what did you say, ‘God’s best joke?’”

“I shouldn’t have said that, bub. It really was an educated wish.”

“Educated wish,” you chuckle. “I’m stealing that. Uh, I’m sure there’s other people you’d like to see right now. Meet me in the old- Office D.”

“What was it before?” Logan asks, curious. 

“A music room. But we got a new one with the last set of renovations, so now it’s just an office space.” 

“So, it has great acoustics then? I’ve got a rendition of Kesha’s Praying that puts angels to shame.”

“You like music?” you ask.

“Who doesn’t?” 

“Did you ever play the piano?”

“Don’t like it that much.”

You smile and nod in understanding before taking your leave. Wade can’t help but notice that you look sad. There's loneliness in your eyes. Great, Wolvie’s rubbed off on him. 

“Do you wanna go ahead and show me around? The office, I mean? I don’t have anything better to do, not really.”

You turn. 

“You’re sweet, Wade, but I don’t have to read your mind. I’m okay. I’m used to being by myself, I really don’t mind. Go see your friends while Logan and the girl get settled in.” 

“Okay, but I’m coming over after. You already said I’m in, so you can’t keep me out!”

“Okay,” you reply as you turn back, heading towards the office. 

It was scary. You didn’t know what was wrong with you until Professor Xavier showed up. Even with your diagnosis, there was no explanation for why your parents could occasionally experience your hallucinations for themselves. They thought you were haunted, maybe even cursed. Holy water, sage, incense… Every method of banishing evil was attempted, but whatever was inside you remained.

“She’s a gifted child with a beautifully complicated mind,” he said. No one had ever said anything so kind about you, not to that degree. Cute? Smart? Polite? Sure. But gifted? Beautifully complicated? Never had you been granted such sophistication. “She’s a mutant, Mr. and Mrs. Levi. If you’ll allow me, I’d like for her to join me at a school for students like her. We can teach her how to control this gift and use it to help others.”

“How much will it cost?” your father asked. Once the professor clarified that it was free, you were packing your bags. 

One overnight flight that you were supposed to sleep through later, you were jittery and standing in a crowd of kids roughly your age waiting to be grouped off for introductory tours. 

The shadow woman came back. She said that she’s your real mother. She rested a hand on your shoulder and began to whisper to you as she always did, making suggestions and telling you things you didn’t want to hear. You’ve worked hard to make sure others can’t see her, but your control wavered for a moment with your frayed nerves. 

“Holy shit!” a girl cried out, and you jumped.

“I- I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

“No way, that was so fucking cool. I’m Ellie, what’s your name?” 

“Levi. Um, Y/N Levi, but my friends all call me Levi, or Leviathan. You really think it’s cool?” 

“Yeah, but I doubt anyone calls you that with that sweater.” 

You were wearing a pastel pink cardigan with a floral button-up shirt and a knee-length navy blue pencil skirt. No wonder she didn’t take you seriously. You used to dress more like her, but your mother thought that’s what made you like this and burned all your band tee shirts. 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with the way I dress,” you retorted. “I’m a competitive swimmer. They thought I might go to the Olympics, y’know, before…”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“And I suppose these two are mine,” Miss Frost said, looking over you both. She doesn’t look impressed. You feel unbearably cold all of the sudden, like you’ve fallen into a pile of snow naked. You shudder, rubbing your arms for warmth. 

“Interesting,” Miss Frost hummed. “How very interesting indeed. Come along.”

Wade decides to stop by Yukio and Ellie’s room, being sure to knock after the mistake he made last time. Sure, Yukio was just plucking Ellie’s eyebrows, but it could’ve been a lot worse for everyone involved if something else was going on.

“Come in!” Yukio calls. 

“Hey, X-Ladies! Add any new pairs of scissors to your collection? I saw a really fancy pair the other day, I know how much you sapphic sweethearts like to-”

“What do you want?” Ellie asks, looking up from her notebook. She sits at the desk while Yukio sits on the bed, cozied up and clearly having just paused a TikTok doomscroll to see what he wanted. 

“Oh, uh, well… I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.”

“Right, okay… Well, you’ve stopped. Now go,” Ellie says, not turning around again. 

“How cruel you are!” Wade whines. “And no defense from Yukio! Maybe I should just ditch you both and just be besties with Y/N!”

“Y/N… Wait, do you mean Levi?” Ellie asks, perplexed. She returns to her doodling. 

“Surely not. Levi’s, um… Well, Wade, did she do anything to you? She can be… She doesn’t mean to be controlling, but she can sometimes make decisions for people and make them think it was their idea.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, um…” Yukio trails off, looking over at Ellie out of the corner of her eye. She quickly pulls out her phone, texting. 

Yukio!!! 🦄✨: Ellie’s broken bones over people saying something like what I just did about Levi. But all of a sudden one day, a few years ago now, she suddenly started acting like she hardly knows her. 

Yukio!!! 🦄✨: I’m too scared to confront her. I know the only reason Ellie ever gave me a second glance is because of what she did. 

Wade nods. 

Wade!!! 🦄⚔️: Gotcha. I’m pretty resistant to being mindfucked. I’ll see what I can figure out. I’m supposed to be joining some team she’s on. 

Yukio smiles and nods. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave you alone,” Wade sighs. “Thanks for being such gracious hosts.”

“Just like that?” Ellie asks. 

“Yeah, now I gotta figure out if this Levi chick turned my brains to spaghetti. I wouldn’t know the difference.” 

Wade skips off, taking the scenic route to Office D and making sure to annoy as many people as he can along the way. It’s just so fun to rile up these hall monitors. It’s too easy. 

He knocks at the door.

“Password.”

“Uh, it’s Deadpool. You didn’t give me a password.”

You open the door, grinning.

“I know. I just wanted to mess with you. Not as effective as I thought it’d be. Come on in.”

“Piano. That was really specific,” Wade realizes as he follows you in. You sit at a multi-monitor computer setup tucked in the corner and gesture towards the loveseat against the back wall. He sits as you respond: 

“Oh, yeah, I guess it was. I play. Used to, I mean. Still do on occasion, but… Yeah. Not a lot of people here do, so it would’ve been cool if we had that in common. I’m not good at making friends.”

“Not good at keeping them, either. What’s the deal with you and Negasonic?” He goes for the direct approach, trying to catch you off guard. 

“Aw, Yukio’s too cute, isn’t she?” you ask as you log in. “I thought she was at least smart enough not to look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“So, it’s true, then. Ellie had a thing for you.”

You turn in your swivel chair, facing him. 

“More than a thing. We were in love. Or, rather, I’m in love with her and have no way of knowing if she truly felt the same or if I just wanted her to and was subconsciously using my powers to make her. I’m sure you can figure it out from there.”

“Oh,” Wade squeaks. 

“Yeah,” you reply with a bitter chuckle, reclining in your chair like you’re settling down for a longer conversation. “What else do you want to know?”

“I’m sorry. Ellie’s my friend, so’s Yukio. I hardly know you, so when she said…”

“I get it, dude. I’m serious. In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I know everything about you. Everything. So you can ask me whatever you want and I’ll answer as honestly as I can. It’s the least I can do.” 

“Everything?”

“Everything,” you repeat. 

“Um… What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

“Black’s not a color, it’s the absence of color. Try again.”

“Right… I suppose if I had to pick, F/C.”

“F/C? That’s cute. Hm… Birthday?”

“B/D.”

“Cool, a S/S. Is that why you’re so edgy?”

You snicker. 

“Maybe. Anything else, or do you want me to go over the basics with you?”

“The basics. I’ll come up with more questions later, though.”

“Great. So, like I told you earlier, you’re gonna be doing captures. Now, even if you recognize someone as staff, I highly recommend that you don’t rough them up. They could be one of ours. I’ll shadow you for some of your first runs, and if your performance is satisfactory, you’ll be solo from then on.” 

“Oh, new question. You seemed particularly angry that I didn’t, y’know, join you. Before. Surely I’m not the first.”

“No, you’re not. I tend to grow attached to some of you. I watch your struggles, learn everything about your life before and after. A parasocial relationship of sorts.” 

“What, you were a fan of me?”

“You could say that. I wanted to see you succeed so badly. I knew you had what it takes, that you’d be a great addition to the team. And then you rejected us. Rejected me, not that you knew I existed. It was frustrating.”

“I hurt your feelings! My poor little gummy snake, I didn’t mean to!” he coos. You recoil, cringing. 

“When you put it like that… Ugh. Pathetic, isn’t it? Anyways, I’m usually able to give you a few good locations. I’ve hacked into the CCTV systems of most major cities, so I figure out routines and typical haunts pretty quickly. Nab the target, bring them here. Uh, try to be subtle about it, though. Do you know where the basement entrance is?” 

“Nope.”

“Do you know where the archives are?”

“Nada.”

“Do you know where-”

“I haven’t exactly gotten a tour of this place.”

“Oh, right. Let me get you a map printed out, then.”

“You’re not gonna offer me a tour?”

“It wouldn’t be a good look for either of us.”

“You’re embarrassed of being my number one fangirl, huh? I should get tee shirts printed.”

You laugh. 

“No, actually, I was more concerned for you. I used to be pretty popular here, but after Logan died, I withdrew. Disappointed some people.” 

“What, you got a bunch of people killed, too? New Logan won’t mind. That’s what he did in his timeline.”

“Uh… No. I didn’t participate in the first Mutant Olympics.”

“The Mutant Olympics?!” 

“Yeah. I was a swimming champion in a past life. It’s how I got my nickname, which then became my codename.”

“No kidding.”

“Yeah. But I just coach these days. Now that I’m older, I find that more rewarding. Seeing others succeed.”

“That’s what you’re all about, then. Other people. I can’t relate, but I’m sure you already know that.”

You smile knowingly.

“I know all about that, yeah. Now, go explore. I’ll let you know when you have an assignment.”

“How?”

“Everything. I’ll give you a call on a secure line.”

“Right, okay. See you, then.”

You nod before putting on your headphones. 

Emma burst into your shared room. She was the only student advisor that never knocked, but you were her first and only charges. 

“You’ve got mail,” she said, passing you the envelope.

“Maybe it’s a letter from your parents,” Eloise suggested. 

“Why on Earth would they send her a letter?”

“Well, my calls go straight to voicemail. Maybe they got new numbers and forgot mine, or something,” you clarified, tearing it open excitedly. “Miss Y/N Levi, you are required to… Testify… Levi v. Sweet Saplings Adoption Agency? I- I don’t understand.”

“It’s a subpoena,” Miss Frost realizes and clarifies at the same time, taking the letter from you. “I’ll arrange for your transport.”

“I don’t understand, who in my family is suing an adoption agency and why am I being subpoenaed to testify? None of my cousins are adopted, I remember my aunt on my dad’s side being pregnant.”

“Levi…” Eloise trailed off. 

“It’s me, isn’t it? Then- But why wouldn’t they tell me? I- I- What? This can’t be right,” you said, starting to lose your breath. “Why would they be suing them?” 

“Adoption costs a lot of money. If they feel they spent too much for a defective product-”

“Don’t call her that! Are you fucking insane?!” Eloise shouted. “Can’t you see that she’s upset?! Why would you say that?!”

“I wasn’t…” Miss Frost trailed off. “I didn’t mean that I considered her defective. She’s exceptional, unlike you, so think before you speak to me unless you’d like another month of detention.” 

“Last time you put me in detention, it was for something I thought, so what does it matter?!” Eloise yelled back. “Just-”

She cut herself off once she realized you were crying. 

“Levi, Y/N, hey, it’s okay. You don’t need them anyways. You’ve got all the family you need right here, promise,” Eloise insisted, bundling you up in a hug. 

“Let… Let me know if she needs anything,” Miss Frost conceded, leaving Eloise to comfort you.

[shares-a-vest]

Hiii. So I've decided to write some stuff in the lead-up to Valentine's Day. Nothing elaborate, just some Steddie-centric Valentine's ficlets/nonsense/shenanigans. I might not write every day (bc lately my brain has been barely working) but here's hoping this little project gets me out of my funk.

I'll Steal You Some Flowers

“Remind me, again, why it’s easier for us to commit theft than just buy some flowers?” Dustin groans from behind Steve as he takes one last look at his neighbour old Mrs Collins’s, empty driveway.

“Yeah, I don’t really like the idea of this anymore,” Lucas adds, standing upright and stepping away from the property's side fence they are all crouched behind. “I don’t even think Max will like flowers.”

“Every girl likes flowers!” Steve stage-whispers as he whips around to look at the complaining duo.

At least Will Byers still seems interested in the scheme, seeing as he wastes no time in lightly slapping Dustin on the shoulder and making a face.

“Then why did you come?” he asks with an annoyed hand gesture.

“Wait, did you steal those roses you were going to give Nance?” Dustin shrieks, standing upright and folding his arms.

Jesus Christ. These kids really do make things difficult.

Steve stands and mirrors Henderson’s defiant posture.

“Actually I bought those from the completely overpriced gas station,” he retorts and places his hands on his hips. “Now, old lady Collins is gone, so who’s with me?”

“This really feels like something Eddie would suggest,” Lucas says, jumping up and dangling from the fence, scoping out the backyard with a sceptical eye.

“Nope, all my idea,” Steve retorts. “And I want to surprise him so today’s the day, assholes. Now, if you’re going to chicken out, Henderson, you can stay here and be the lookout.”

“I’m staying too,” Lucas chimes, snatching the radio off Dustin.

“Fine, I’ll go,” Will relents and reaches a hand out for the other radio. “Which flowers do you want for Max again?”

Lucas shrugs.

Will sighs and lolls his head back as he rolls his eyes as dramatically as possible.

“So helpful, Sinclair,” Steve says. “I’ll get you some roses. Can’t go wrong with those.”

He removes his backpack and sets it down to retrieve two pairs of gardening gloves and clippers.

“So you own several pairs of gardening gloves but can’t grow your own flowers!” Dustin wonders aloud with a furrowed brow in that tone he gets when he thinks Steve is the dumbest person alive.

“Shut up,” he says, throwing the floral pair to Will and putting the larger ones on. “My mum likes gardening but has a total black thumb so we’ve got all the equipment and the sparsest garden in Hawkins.”

“If we get caught, you’re taking the fall,” Dustin insists.

“Why did you come anyway?” Lucas asks, turning with a hand on his hip towards Dustin. “It's not like you can send Suzie flowers through the mail!”

“I'll have you know,” Dustin starts, snatching the radio back. “I sent Suzie a poetic letter and we are going on a long-distance date over Cerbero for Valentine's Day, thank you very much.”

He places his hand on his heart and practically bops on the spot, beaming at the idea of the lamest, nerdiest date on the planet. Steve rolls his eyes even though with the pair now turning on each other (and thus, distracted), it is probably time to go over the plan. He places a hand on Will’s shoulder.

“You take the radio and the binoculars and stay facing the house. Collins has this annoying yapping little dog named Archie, but he stays inside. I’ll get the flowers and hand them to you.”

“Okay,” Will nods and blushes, likely remembering his rose that he plans on anonymously sending to Mike. A plan that no one knew about except for Steve.

“Remember,” he begins, nodding. “Stealth.”

He ignores the scoffs coming from the pair behind them and waits for a nod of understanding from young Byers who only gestures for him to get the hell on with their plan.

Steve throws his backpack to Dustin, who just allows it to fall and spill onto the grass. He waves it away and silently beckons Will to follow as he books it for Collins’ side gate between the side hedge and garage. He unlocks it and, with Will right behind him, they cross the backyard to Mrs Collins’s prize-winning flower garden, the envy of every housewife in Hawkins. Archie isn’t anywhere to be heard although, now that Steve thinks about it, he won’t hear the little critter for shit anyway.

“What did I tell you,” he says, outstretching a welcoming arm as he ducks his head to miss the white trellis arch covered in wisteria.

“Holy shit,” Will says, following along and heading straight for the corner patch of rose bushes.

“Exactly,” he says.

He makes quick work of cutting some roses, working from the back of the bush before heading over to the next one as he carefully takes from each bush so as not to draw suspicion. Will begins counting them out on a bare patch of grass when the radio kicks in with incoherent noise as if Dustin and Lucas are fighting over who gets control.

“Abort! Abort!” Dustin screeches. “Mr Collins has returned home. I repeat. Mr Collins is parked in the driveway and headed for the side gate. Steeeeeeve! Over.”

“Shit!” Steve yells.

He starts gathering up the roses and immediately scratches his forearm as he attempts to hastily tuck them under his arm. And, not wanting to leave without his share of the spoils, Steve quickly yanks a handful of tulips square out of the ground and looks up to find Will sprinting to the back fence, a bunch of roses in hand.

“We’re leaving, over,” Dustin says through the crackling radio.

Cowards. All of them, traitorous cowards.

“Steve?” Mr Collins calls across the lawn, breaking his focus.

He looks over to find Mr Collins staring at him with slack-jawed confusion before he looks down to discover the flowers in his hands.

“Fuck.”

Steve drops the cutters and runs for it, vaulting over the small fence that separates the garden from the lawn and follows Will, who’s struggling to escape over the back fence.

“What on earth!” Mr Collins exclaims, obviously spotting Byers.

Steve throws his flowers over the fence and Will follows suit before he kneels down to boost the boy up.

“Just run for it,” Steve relents as Mr Collins continues yelling at both them and the dog that must be barking.

“I thought you said no one was home!” Will yells as he disappears over the fence with a thump.

“He's supposed to be at work!” Steve calls back as he does a small run-up and jumps as high as he can so he’s half-hanging over the fence.

The planks are sticking into his stomach, which these days aches like hell. And as he feels a sharp tinge in his back, Steve rolls forward and over the fence, landing directly on his right shoulder. Feeling it dislodge, he wails in pain and clutches at his dislocated joint.

“Steve!” Will says, crouching down beside him.

“Just leave the flowers,” he groans.

Before he knows it, Steve finds himself on a bed in the emergency department of Hawkins General with his arm in a sling and Will sitting at his bedside. And just like that Eddie appears, pulling back the dividing curtain with a hard tug.

“Oh no,” he groans, sinking his head further back into the pillow.

“Oh no, indeed,” Eddie says, stern despite the smallest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Why did you call him?” he whines at his co-conspirator. “I’m fine.”

“Who else was I supposed to call!” Will argues, gesticulating wildly.

“Byers,” Eddie begins, reaching in his pocket for loose change that he tosses to Will. “Go get a snack. I’ll drive you home later.”

“You aren’t going to tell Hop, are you?” the boy asks, worried.

“Oh, god no, man,” Eddie insists without a second thought.

Steve knows he's in for a lecture. And will have to fess up about what the hell he was doing that led to him being admitted to emergency with a dislocated shoulder. But Eddie will stop short of tattling to anyone, let alone Chief of Police Hopper.

At that guarantee, Will scurries off into the waiting room. Eddie sits on the edge of Steve's hospital bed and purses his lips.

“So…” he begins and Steve can't tell if he's pissed off or just mildly inconvenienced. “Getting the boys ready for Valentine’s Day actually meant stealing flowers from your neighbour like a regular Dennis the Menace?”

“Like you haven’t stolen anything,” Steve huffs and if he could, he’d fold his arms.

“We literally committed Grand Theft Auto together, sweets,” Eddie smiles before going all coy and running his hand along Steve’s thigh, his jeans covered in grass stains. “Did you steal me anything?”

“Tried to,” he says, low and disappointed at his botched heist. “But we left them when I fell.”

“You’re so naughty, Steve Harrington,” Eddie coos, leaning in close.

He winks.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says.

“I’m sorry that your arm is in a sling!” Eddie shoots back and tsks’. “Just in time for Valentine's Day! And to think, all the things you could be doing with your right hand. Deary me...”

He theatrically slumps forward, clutching at Steve's right thigh and gradually creeps his arm dangerously further up his leg.

“Don’t,” Steve warns, shifting on the spot.

“Come on, let’s get you out of here,” he offers, leaping up and extending a hand. “I’m sure we can think of a workaround.”

Steve’s more than a little wobbly on his feet and honestly, it's a goddamn miracle he hasn’t gotten a migraine yet. Shit. This really wasn't a good idea. Likely sensing his sudden panic, Eddie loops an arm around his middle and adds a teasing squeeze to his hip before holding him tight.

“I’m taking you home to kiss you better,” Eddie continues, chancing a quick kiss on his cheek before they walk into the waiting room to find Will nervously downing a packet of crisps.

[idcpxseur]

i want more laurance thoughts pretty please

OKAY BUT YOU ASKED FOR IT

My thoughts on Laurence Zvhal

soft warning for aaron slander. im not really slandering him im just sharing my conspiracy theories. ALSO THIS BITCH IS LONGGGG AND THERES SO MUCH RAMBLIGN GOD HELP

god i love him so bad... thats the main thing i wanna get cleared up right the fuck away. i love him SOSO bad and i think jesson uses him completely inappropiately and im stealing him. okay? hes my oc now.

this is also a warning, i havent refreshed completely with my mcd knowledge and mystreet is more fresh in my mind so if i say something wrong about a plot point be nice to me im doing my best im a little guy with a dissociative disorder so i forget shit

aaalllrighty where the hell do i begin?

okay so first off, right off the bat: when he got back from the nether in mcd, he should've been blind. because

disability representation. blindness isnt something that can just be cured unless you get touched by jesus christ himself (im not religious but i think thats in the bible lol) and it something that impacts millions of people on the daily. exposing that to young kids can introduce them to the fact that not everybody is just like them and that people come in many different shapes and sizes. and it ofc helps anyone who happens to be blind have a chracter to relate to and project on.

do YOU KNOW HOW COOL IT WOULD BE FOR A BLIND KNIGHT? like fighting is a very visual skill for the most part you need to see your opponents sword to properly dodge it or you are good and truly fucked. so taking something integral to fighting and ripping it away gives another great chance for character development as well as some really sick ass scenes where laurence goes all toph and uses his senses that are now firing at all cylinders and kicks total ass

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST!! like. laurence is a very visual guy, right? he sees pretty ladies to flirt with, he's a knight, he cares about his looks. so now he has all of that pretty much ripped away from him in an instant. what the fuck is he supposed to do? he flounders. hes a shell of his former self, in a way. like hes still there, hes still alive, but is he even laurence anymore? its something he has to learn to embrace and come to terms with. the main cast could also be super encouraging for him and basically is like "hey dude youre still the same fuckin awesome guy and you can still do all these fucking awesome things you just gotta learn how to do it again"

itd make for some cool relationship building between him and garroth or him and zoey or him and aphmau or even like him and cadenza. it gives him external relationships outside of just aphmau's love interest

JESUS FUCK I YAPPED A LOT ABOUT LAURENCE BEING BLIND OKAY

i think giving laurence (in both mcd and mystreet) jealousy/possessiveness issues is lame and a total turn off. like its such a gross thing to tell to kids, no? like "hey kids if you love someone they are ENTITLED to love you back and they CANT be in love with someone else"

obviously this behavior is still shut down but still... like why include it? especially because, prior to him falling in love, he seemed to be just a completely chill dude who only gets angry if he needs to. but suddenly hes mass slaughtering people at weddings (mcd), stalking his love interest because he saw her talking with another guy (mystreet), giving aphmau the cold shoulder because she is either indecisive or loses interest in him (this goes in both series i believe)

like it just gives you such an ick and obviously i know why they did this. i will say this until the day they put me in the damn ground its because of motherfucking aaron becoming a love interest. i have zero issues with aaron as a character and i even like him as a character (i have redeemed myself. i used to hate him) but as a love interest i think hes the worst thing to happen to every series because he just simply destroys any male character who had the potential to be shipped with aphmau which was all of them

were moving to mystreet here because mystreet is the best and most glaring example of this because mystreet was after they had decided to make aarmau canon in mcd and you can tell because of the way they set up laurence and garroth.

lemme explain and yes i know this is deviating from strictly laurence a tad but stay with me

im not going to use pdh because pdh was written after mystreet based off of the fact that for some reason travis doesnt know aphmau???? despite them being best friends in pdh??? WHATEVER WHWATEVER NOT THE POINT OKAY. were also going to completely disregard the undercurrent of grooming for aarmau and were going to pretend like this relationship is normal and not at all weird. okay? okay.

so from the moment you first meet laurence and garroth, you can tell their vibes are off. theyre openly hostile with each other (even if its playful theyre still "competeing" for her), theyre trying to shove each other out of the way. it makes them seem unlikeable. every time theyre on screen theyre talking to her or about her (often times planning on stalking her or getting irrationally jealous because they heard something through the grapevine) and it just turns the viewer off. if youre a first time viewer without any preconcieved notions of these character you're thinking "wow thats creepy. why would she stay friends with them? why would she bother sticking around her if all they want is a relationship out of her and not a genuine friendship?" and if you happened to watch mcd first youre thinking "wow is this how theyre really like? wow i dont like them at all anymore" and then you go to mcd and see their worst traits being ramped up and amplified to make them even more unlikable

and then you see aaron

in mcd hes a silent protector. hes always by aphmau's side. hes her one true loyal knight even when she does something he doesnt like. they understand eachother in ways that laurence and garroth just dont

in mystreet hes her guard dog. hes always there to step in when shes uncomfortable. hes her secret best friend her home away from home. he makes her feel loved in such a way that laurence garroth never could since theyve only ever cared about her superficially and not in any way that really, truly mattered

it makes the audience cling to him. it makes them think "well fuck why did the other guys even try hes obviously perfect for her" it blinds them of any other potential option because jesson just didnt give any other opportunity to shine through.

and thats fine. thats completely fine they can do whatever the hell they want to with their series because as one creative to another sometimes you just gotta make your bed and lie in it knowing that not every bitch out there is going to like every creative decision you make.

as a viewer it just.... it just makes you feel dissatisfied. leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, especially given the fact that in mcd you were basically told "these are your two options for love interests" and then a third love interest swoops in seemingly out of nowhere, gets her pregnant, and then he fucking dies.

in mystreet it just like... ugh. i dont know. i guess i feel happy for them because i can see their development. but like me personally i cant really feel shit for ms aarmau simply because of pdh and the FUCKING WEIRDNESS OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP

sorry this, once again, turned into a rant about how aaron's introduction as a love interest fucking ruined everything (my words, not anyone elses)

to sum up this long, long, long post my thoughts on laurence are as follows: i think hes written very poorly in mystreet and severely mishandled in mcd. i think that he had the potential to be very interesting in both series if used properly and he couldve had more intersting things happen to him in terms of the love interest department.

i think hes a character that gets the a lot of the character assassination tirade that jesson went on and i wish we got to see more of him but unfortunately we never will since you know his va left.

but most importantly:

hes my pookie wookie booboo bear and i love him so bad and im going to shake him and bite him and rip him to shred

well... i hope you got what you wanted. i have emptied all of my thoughts about laurence

[wh1zz3rbr0wn]

me ranting on the marvin triolgy i unironically love the marvin trilogy so much?? in trousers makes no sense. esp the end song/ begginning depends on what like version ur listening too. i heard this theory that in trousers is actually marvin being hypnotised by mendle in therapy and it would make sense!! like it'd explain the inaccuracies between it and falsettos. Like Trina having two kids, as mentioned in your lips and me, 'the oldest drink wine the baby's wailing', while in falsettos Jason is the only child known. And in you gotta die sometime when whizzer says i dont smoke but in whizzer going down marvin says 'he takes me in his arms and he lights *another* cigarette.' Then i love how they re used im breaking down from in trousers and using it in the 2016 revival of it. imo it fits better in falsettos because you go more in depth about both trina and whizzer charaters. In trousers musicals actually is so bloody good??? like every song is great, my favourite song is marvin's giddy seizures. It highlights marvin's suicidal attempts and how it doesn't get noticed unless he acts out., then the whole thing just sounds so good. i wish the lesbians got more screen time though because theyre so radicial. every scene they're in they just light the stage up. I love how all the charaters are wrote. I would like to know if in high school ladies at 5 o'clock/ the r--e of mrs goldurg. are we meant to take that literally? im assuming we are because marvin says something along the lines of for my 14th birthday i was hoping you could show me the wonders of the bed. i think we would be, and if we are what the fuck? like i know marvin is an incredibly abusive person before about time but jesus christ. i didnt expect that. now i do adore that marvin's abusive behaviours are acknowledged and reprimanded unlike another musical that attempts to do something alike to falsettos, rent, where all characters have abusive behaviours. i wont dwell on the failures of rent too much because this isn't about rent. I have saw that 2004 college production amd i find it hilarious that in the thrill of first love that marvin drops whizzer, i hope that was scripted because that seems like such a Marvin behaviour. at the same time it would also be funny if it wasnt. either way i like it. anyway in marvin at the physiatrist, in the og off brodway cast, mendle says its queer mr marvin which is so funny to me. on the topic of the og off brodway cast, i find it fun how chip zien played both marvin and mendle in in trousers and march of the falsettos/falsettoland. marvin in in trousers and mendle in MotF/falsettoland respectably. I genuinely adore everything about falsettos. the openeing number is such a good opening song, i dont think ive heard a better one. Then my father's a homo always makes me laugh and i just love how jason doesn't hate his father for being gay, its how his homosexuality tore the family apart. Then this had better come to a stop is such agood number. i love how in the og of brodway run of it the late again sounds like yapping. then the way that trina and whizzer sort of bond over marvin's abusive tendencies is heartbreaking. A tight knit family reprise is a great song again. then the chess game, marvin my guy you know you agreed to let whizzer win cmon now. i never wanted to love you is heartbreaking. and the games i play makes me violently sob. march of the falsettos made no sense to me until i realised that it was a song to remind you that acts of affection are NOT masculine at all. i honestly dont get why act one didnt end with i never wanted to love you, but father to son is heartwarming compared to the previous songs. i love the second act so much. marvin has done everything to change himself yet the love of his life is stripped away from him. it is like a reminder that due to his past actions he can never like fully be a good person. he changed. he did im not putting that down, but his actions can always haunt him.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey what do you think about Lawyer Thena defending the Gangster Gil? I see this more like an enemies to lovers hahahahah🤣

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah, Blondie, I'm listening," Gilgamesh responded lazily, although he knew it would just get him an eyeroll and probably one hell of a lecture. The woman really had a way with words, and the way was boring.

"What did I tell you about calling me that?"

"Uh-"

"You don't know," she supplied for him with even more bite than usual, which was already plenty. For a woman who looked as soft as an angel she was really more of a 'hell in high heels' creature. A very special brand of she-demon, Gil thought. "You don't know because you weren't listening!"

"Okay, okay, sorry," he groaned, lowering his feet from the chair across from him and looking at the lawyer just about frothing at the mouth about it. And as fun as he found it to ruffle those platinum feathers of hers, there was a limit to how much he would let her bark at him.

"I'm sorry, here I was under the impression you'd hired me to defend you," Thena scoffed, tossing down the file she'd been waving around at him onto the table. "But if you'd rather I let them convict you, then-"

"Okay, jesus christ, relax," Gilgamesh snorted, reaching for the file she'd slapped down in her huff. "It's been a long day, y'know. Am I really the first to zone out after having you yapping all day?"

She glared at him, and he was sure if he were any normal man, he'd be pissing his pants from it. "No, but if you zone out, then you don't do well on the stand. And if you don't do well, then I lose this case. And I have no intention of letting that happen."

Gilgamesh allowed his own eyeroll at her devotion to his cause. "Wow, so dedicated."

"I'm defending you after you organised a bank robbery," Thena hissed at him, lowering her voice to a whisper (as aggravated and agitated as it was).

"Hey, that's why banks have insurance," he shrugged. "And I have business with the ass hole that owns all those branches."

Thena lowered herself even closer to him, "don't confess even more crimes to me, moron!"

Gil just held his hands up and shrugged. She'd been the one to ask him to be transparent in his dealings with her.

"Unbelievable," she grumbled, leaning up and away from him and rubbing her temples. "Maybe you're right, maybe it is time for a break."

"Trial's not exactly tomorrow, Angel," he chuckled, leaning back in his chair again. "We do have time, y'know."

"A week goes by much faster than you'd think," she countered, easily ignoring every little pet name he'd thrown at her so far. "Anyone who's ever gotten up there and been found guilty, I assure you, wishes they'd spent more time preparing than they did."

"My god, you're wound tight," Gilgamesh laughed, and was indeed rewarded with another glare. "Do you even sleep at all?--or do you just plug yourself in and lean against the wall of your office?"

"Such a comedian," she replied flatly with that icy stare of hers. Shit, was she as sexy as she was annoying. She snapped the file shut. "At least look at these again while I go get us some food."

"What?"

"Food, I'll go get some," she huffed at him, circling around the desk of the conference room for her coat. "God knows we'll need the coffee."

"Where are you going?"

"Are you really in a position to make demands?" she replied flippantly. She had her coat on and was fanning her hair out again when suddenly he was beside her, grasping her wrist in his hand. She snapped it out of his grasp, shuffling a precious few inches away.

"You're not going out there alone."

"The chivalry act?" she raised a cool brow at him, but Gil was already slipping his coat on as well, meeting her scowl for scowl. "You can't just go waltzing around, you are literally a criminal on trial."

"Hey, I'm out on bail, I can go anywhere a law abiding citizen can go," he argued, tugging at the collar of his coat as he did. "And I'm not letting a lady walk around at the dead of fuckin' night by herself."

"A gentleman crime boss, are you?" she gave him that same infuriating - bordering on cute - smirk.

"I'm a criminal, Sunshine, not a pig, and I'm not letting you go alone, so stop complaining and come on," he growled, rattling the doorknob loudly for extra effect.

"Lucky me," she snarled at him on her way past, her nose in the air and her hair swinging behind her as her heels clacked on the floors.

"Unbelievable," Gil muttered as he followed her out, hurrying his steps so he could keep up with the she-demon and her high heels.