#like dont get me wrong i love the weasel man

[icarusredwings]

Rewatched Deadpool 1. Took notes.

WARNING: Discussion of mental illness topics, ending yourself, trauma, violence, etc.

Civil debate/ conversation welcomed. Sorry its super long. I think a lot.

Notes:

You know what? We see Wade coloring a lot. What's our status on just giving him cartoons snacks and coloring books? He needs it.

I think we all forget how actually impressive this man is. I just watched this cancer having fucker do like 50 flips.

Whatta man is so Logan Howlett coded.

"Bad deadpool" "good deadpool!"

Deadpool has been helping kids for a while. He terrified a little creep while he himself was a huge creep.

Missed up his words and Vanessa smiled at him. With that "aw hes cute" kinda thing.

When talking about their childhood (whether he's lying or not, hes not about the uncle) and he outdos her so much that she giggles.

The first date he takes her ducking skiiballing instead of yk prostitute stuff

Hes so romantic oh my god.

Theyre giggling and joking like all the time. Personally thanksgiving is my favorite scene before he proposes with a fucking ring pop.

I shouldn't laugh but the way he said "wtf" when passing out

Vanessa instantly jumping to "what can we do? There has to be something" makes me instantly respect her as a chronically ill person myself. Partners who medically defend each other make me so happy because a lot of people divorce their partners when they get "too sick" let alone dont show up to specialist appointments.

Him accepting death so quickly is a sign of mental illness, and you can see him be confused on why shes so upset. Shes crying and hes sitting here like "why do you care if I die or not?" He physically feels so unloved that he just doesn't get it.

"I dont know. Might further the plot. " Oh, so you know about wades little mental tv show he puts on in his head as a coping mechanism?

Also... Weasel.. YOU KNOW WHO ELSE IS A WEASEL!? Shit sorry wrong movie.

Its not until now that hes crying because he realizes if he does then no more vanessa. We already know hes very co dependent and many people only care about themselves BECAUSE of other people. Which is also considered a sign of wanting to ☠️ self.

The whole "superheros are all lame ass teachers pets" thing is so funny if you think about how much beef he has with the xmen when in reality I have a feeling Wade would love charles in a "Ugh im in trouble with Daddy wheel chair again." COUGH "old bald heavens gate looking mother fucker" COUGH

"Thats not nice" No. But wade is genuienly not nice either.

"This is embarrassing. Please stop, " Colosus said what we all were thinking.

Bro literally cut/broke off his own hand and didn't whine a single time. If you ever. EVER hear this man express pain it is 99.9% his own choice to let you know that it hurts.

During his changing process, Francis says "the only thing that doesn't survive is a sense of humor" wade says "we'll see about that" and smirks.

What also makes sense to me is that he did NOT break easily. They did test after test after test and this man still wasn't breaking. His spirit is incredibly strong and as much as we enjoy joking about how stupid he is, Wade is extremely resourceful.

Its like he has created an alter ego of humor and kindess in order to keep up with the fact he DOES understand how fucked up this world is and whats happening/happened around him but refuses to acknowledge it until he has too. Ussually for survival.

Ive seen theories that he has DID or a type of Scizophreania and the voices in the comics are obviously in his head. I have mixed feelings about it because even his thoughts have thoughts of their own in some cases. Talking to no one is often a sign of abadonment, esspecially in children who are school age and get lonely when taken from their families to attend school. Its almost as if wade never lost his and hes subconsiously talking to himself to keep himself calm/ from panicking in high stress situations.

"But then how does he know hes in a movie" thats the thing. He doesn't. Hes pretending to cope. Main charaters cant die and until he dies he has this mental show/movie going on to keep himself from realizing all of this is true. That this is reality.

Cunningham mentions breakfast for his kids and suddenly, wade wakes up. Hes not joking anymore. This is a "oh shit... I wanna make breaktsst for my kids too... with my wife vanessa" moment.

"So whats wrong with him?"

Diiiiiddd we all forget about scout master kevin? Uncle? Dad? That fact that the oxygen was physically taken from his brain and was given Co2 poisoning over and over? For multiple days? This is the same man who blew himself up just to escape because they told him he wasnt going to see vanessa again.

And then he fought a guy naked, survived the entire building burning down, and now is so insecure about his looks that he thinks he made the baby cry in the street.

Theres people staring at him, flinching away, called names, people see him and cross the street. (So when he tells Logan that he knows his pain when it comes to public settings, hes not lying)

Blind Al is literally the reason deadpools suit is what it is. Why the idiot thought white was gonna be a good idea- See above. Unlike Al, who could smell the blood/ bleach.

I really love al. She's like the adult Toph.

"I hear everything in this duplex." OH, you poor thing.

"The guy that turned me into this freak-"

Al: *bitch im blind face*

As far as she's aware, he looks normal. Which is beautiful when you think about it, but it's funny when you think about the fact that he's so insecure about his face that he purposly found a blind room mate that couldn't judge him.

And they cuddle while he gets dating advice from grammie 🥹❤️

I really like how the entirety of Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children (HellHouse in the comics) stood up for Weasel. They're murderers. But they're family.

What they did to vanessa was straight fucked. Her fiance up and leaves without notice, youre just trying to work and live your life, you get kidnapped.

Negasonic is so cool. I love them.

Dopinder (The cab guy) is so cool too. I love him too. Kill that guy in your trunk. "Mr. Pool" reminds me of Tom holland spiderman.

"It is not boy band >:(" Suurreee it isn't.

"Wheres your duffle bag?" You mean his dollar general store tree hello kitty book bag filled with guns?

"Cue the music" *no one even gives a fuck at this point when he talks to the imaginary cams*

Negasonic mid battle: Hold on- "Hey Yukio, yeah I just gotta fuck shit up real quick, ttyl?"

"Sure thing! <3 You go baby!"

I dont know anything about negasonic but she reminds me of Gambit with her energy powers.

Like I said. Hes smart when its a serious situation because he immediately threw his katana into the glass so vanessa could breathe, only to immediately turn sappy and childish again when he sees her stab francis with it. Heart hands, is hallucinating because theres a knife in his brain (literally), sex joke. Etc.

Colossus shut the fuck up. Let this man kill him. He's hurt Soooooo many people. A bullet costs less then a dollar. His amount of therapy alone is going to be like *checks calculations* 80 billion.

"Not the nethers" Wade can and often does show proof of hurting but hed rather cut off his hand then let vanessa punch him in the balls. "Ow- owie 5000"

Hello Hugh Jackman.

After not seeing each other for so longer they instantly go back to the fibbing. "I live in the house with 12"

"You live in a house??" Funny guys get the girls. I should know. My wife says im super funny (yes im in therapy)

Pinky promises really matter to him.

Hes such a silly billy he brought out the phone with their song on it. God what a romantic idiot.

[rockintapper]

hi again!!!!!1

the 1first one, the 2second one

heres me saying stuff about rhythm heaven fever charactersss yaaaayyyy

title girl - pres A and B to start!; what have they done to you

marshal, cam, and miss ribbon: the sillies ever hellooo hiii yayyy,,

monkey and mandrill (hole in one): someone in a yt comment section headcanoned that these two were gods. uh

golfer - is your foot okay

robot (gray/grey): oh, yeah!

robot (white): let's go! (screwbot factory 2 is so fun to play ^_^)

see and saw: YAOIIIIIIIIIIIIII

a boy/kouhai: autism be damned my guy can KICK /silly

his crush/senpai: ngl if i were kouhai i'd be blushing too

weasel couple: why is the girl weasel pink. why. why. why. w

fork: fork

monkey (tambourine): YOURE SO CUTE I WANNA SQIUSH YOU RHAUHURHUAHRAUHHRAHRAHARHU

frogs (tambourine): guh

the executives: they make good points. [spinning in a chair]

assistant: woouohwouuouwowuuowuuH

small monkeys: GOD I LOVE MONKEY WATCH /ref

monkey (remix 2): why is the girl monkey pink. why. why. why. w (shes serving though)

dough dudes: thats what theyre called???

mr. game and watch: what's a guy like you doin in a game like this? /silly

widget: hi widgets (i love built to scale 2 rhf)

baxter and forthington: YAOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

muscle doll: [heavy sigh]

reporter: wubadubaduba, 'zat true?

wrestler: e.

employee #333-4-591032: is munchy momnk your cousin or something /pos

microbe: THEYRE COLORED LIKE IKIGUSARE /VVVVPOS

demons: STOP STEALING FROM PEOPLE

pinwheel girl: gender? i barely know her

another child: wait i thought that was the pinwheel girls mom. wdym shes Another Child /gen

ann glerr: she has muscles. Muscles. character made specifically for lesbians /j

quicknibble: tniy snalll lmaoooo

pausegill: pausegill what the fuck /ref

threefish: once you get the hang of threefish, catch of the day is gg ez no re (<- got it immediately)

captain tuck: he'd be a polar bear. prove me wrong /j; him in the superd screen AHHH /VPOS

flippers: the cuties wauuwiuawuaiwa <333

pitcher: fuckin idiot hats what you get for cheating /lh

slugger:SLUGGER??? S;UGG??ER/ SLIUGG??? SWLUD?? SLGU..?? SLUG??? Watashime S

the huebirds of nah im skipping this one

rhythm rockets: no way its rocket rhythmrocket on tumbler!!! i didnt know they were in this game!! /silly

uh… those guys?: donk DWONK!; man. donk-donk gives me so much joy forever. i love donk-donk.

bossa and nova: they would do so many arts and crafts projects together <3

love posse ft. mc adore: into you! (into you!) (love rap is kinda hard for because i keep tapping too early :( )

the tall TAPPPEOPFWHOULWRIBUILRBVBWEFYBNOIQDWR3YW808u(&^^^^#$q@#%^THE TAPT T AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

the shrimp scamperers: you will never be them /j

school library pep squad: let's everybody go! yay!

bunny man: bunny man 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

girl from samurai slice 2: YAAAAY SHES SO HAPPY AAUHIGHLFVHUBFW THE CUTIE YAYYY

the dough person from working dough 2: what's in that cup. what does that Liquid taste like. is it tea

lady golfer: so proud of her transition <3 /j

cat: Cat. C (hi kasper)

pigeon (hato-kun): boy why you so eepy

clock (mezamashi-kun):if i was that pigeon id have such a negative reaction to that ringing (i hate alarms

beans (omame-chan): i almost didnt notice you hello hi

lady cupid: her and love-san HATE each other /silly

kasuke and kosuke: YURIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

girl's basketball team: why is the hoop alive

frog and frog princess: what if people mistake them for a roach and

chameleon: a precursor to that chameleon minigame in megamix

flies: whats the point of this one

clap trap doll: people Despise you and im curious as to why

driver: tHE FUCKING CHICKNE??? FROM

lieutenant: it's you!

police call guy MY SON HE HAS EVERY DIEASE THE CUTIE THE SILLY MY BABY MY BOY I LOVE HIM SO MUCH I WANNA CRUSH HIM LIKE A BUG /VAFF

mr. hi-hat: if you were used in a normal drum set you would not survive

springs (hi-hat): MR UPBEAT??

rhythm fighters: i dont really care about these guys. uh yaoi

okay thas it.

WOWWOWWOW. OTOKO WA

MISSING YOU SABISHII

OH IT'S BLUE…

CRYING /LY

copy and pasted from notepad in case something happened while i edited this post!

[drabbles-mc]

being on tumblr the MOMENT the chapter drops??? it's a sign!!!

but when have you ever picked sense over instinct? <- oh my dearest Lips. the way i sense this might be, what the scholars call, foreshadowing

Side by side, yeah, going steady and steady going. <- the way i want to be soooo 🥰🥰🥰🥰 about this, but i have it on good authority that perhaps there might be some angst awaiting me this chapter

but I bet you ain’t got the tape for it all. <- i can hear this so vividly in my mind. i stay kissing Lips on the mouth in my mind always

and it would’ve maybe been nothing if Benny hadn’t made it something <- sksksk they're so real for being annoyed about this but also this might've been the moment that i well and truly fell in love with Benny sitting in that theater 😂😂 just one little blurb of Gina saying his boyfriend's in trouble and the man turned into a heat-seeking missle. hot.

Like watching a group of toddlers work out that if they folded their hand up, it could make a, what’a ya call it? A fist. Wow. <- IM WEAKKKKKKK 😂😂😂 god this is such a good nad accurate fucking roast of what these guys are out here doing. I'm yodeling into the abyss i love this so much

Guys being dumb fucks, and fucking dumb about it. <- i want to have their commentary/take on every single club-wide event in the history of ever. i feel like their voice taps in soooo so well to the nature of the fact that the movie was a comedy before it became a tragedy. i love it so much

you said, real loud so the conversation died a little, and you sure enjoyed killing it <- fuckign OBSESSED with this line to much. sure enjoyed killing it!!! sure!!!! did!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!! idkidk there is something i love so much about how this dials into their current attitude and mindset. all of the frustration building

CORKY??!!!??!!!! CORKY WILL TAKE YOU???!!!! DAMN RIGHT!! WHY NOT!!!!! ohhhh the sick fucking grin on my face, mj. the sick twisted fucking grin at the mere thought lmfao

“Fuck you talkin’m bout,” he muttered, “fuck you will, Corky. Come on. Come on, Lips.” <- SKSKSK the man wasn't gonna let it fly. i knew that he woudln't but god just picturing that scene playing out in my mind's eye. so so fucking good. i love it so much. corky, my chaos king. i love him. EYE will let him take me home while Lips goes home with Johnny. we all win.

the way im picturing this visit to their friend's house to see the baby like a montage. nice music in the background and all. i love this for all of them. gotta give the baby a good squish and a sniff

Johnny turns up the next morning, Sunday, like he’d been coming by every day, or something, like he was coming by just to prove that you weren’t there still <- ohhhh something something it's the reverse of benny and Kathy. something something it's foreshadowing of canon and johnny going to the house looking for benny but he's not there. something something the porches in this canon do so much heavy lifting with those wooden planks

“I got a life too, you know. I don’t just sit around, waiting for you to swing by.” <- GET HIS ASS!!!!!!!

“Wrong fucking time to take off, Lips.” <- Jaws music has started playing in the background, i fear

He laughs. Well, sort of laughs, more like exhales with a smile weaselling up behind it. “No, we didn’t tell the cops. We handled it. S’all done with.” <- Johnny Fuckin' Davis, my friends. he really is That Bitch. i love him for it

He looks at you long enough to decide if you’re a person worth lying to or not, you reckon, and he settles on the right half of the debate. “Burned it down,” he says. <- BROOOOOOO!!!!! the lead-up to him telling them the truth??? chef's fucking kiss, baby. absolutely love that. i AM the hellmo gif with is a double entendre considering what we're talking about here sksksk

OH???? H I S BENNY????? DONT THINK I DIDNT CLOCK IT!!!! ITS BEEN CLOCKDE!!!!

You snort. “Great plan. Gang violence eradicated from America.” <- they're so fucking funny and real for this i can't

If Benny is what makes him tick, then God, keep it ticking. <-im??? actually fucking unwell about this???? certifiably so, I'm afriad

oh ym god this slow descent into a goodbye. the tension is suffocating me in a way that makes me want to melt into the couch (positive)

you got a mighty need to find out where that man of yours went. <- this and then the ending????? just reach directly through my ribs to take my heart out, actually. just do it!!!!! take me out back and shoot me. old yeller me. i cannot go on like this (i will be excitedly waiting for the next chapter)

white room - pt. 6

johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 4.8k words, 6 of ? ao3 link | previous part a/n: hi <3 this felt like a whirlwind to write so i hope it translates

The car show-wheel show-fighting and drinking show, proved to be all those things at once, making ‘em all right when it came down to it; well, Kathy most of all. But she didn’t end up going, and by the time you were looking for that bike of Johnny’s in the dark, you were almost wishing you hadn’t bothered neither. She had the right idea after all, and she did warn you, or whatever, but when have you ever picked sense over instinct? 

It started off nice enough, of course, you know, drinking and eating and chatting, and couples fucking on the hoods of cars too shiny to be fucking on, and cigarettes burning like the world was getting rid of them—but you was liking it enough to not be minding about all that. Even felt good to be out somewhere new again, cause you’ve never had much of a social life since moving back here. And Johnny was handsy and handsome and quiet in all the usual ways he is, and you were feeling real good about that, too. Like you belonged there, and not only belonged there, but belonged there with him, with Johnny. Side by side, yeah, going steady and steady going.

And that Danny kid must’a thought the same thing, cause he did wanna talk to you, and he found a minute when Johnny had gone to take a leak to ask you some stuff—nothing real personal or anything, just stuff you’d expect a guy to be asking when he’s doing whatever it is he’s doing, you know? 

He said, “Can I put you down as Lips for this?” 

And I said, “Sure, can’t be the only one of these bozos having a boring old name, can I?”

And he pressed the little button of his tape recorder thingy, half-smoked joint on the edge of his lips, clinging on for dear life, and said, “Ah, I don’t know that anyone rolling with Vandals can be boring.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” you asked, cause he was right, in a sort of way, but you know. You like talking a certain type of talk when you’re getting to know someone, don’t you? Specially a someone with a fancy microphone sitting between his fingers like that. “Rolling?”

“You tell me,” he said, “that’s kind of the whole thing I’m after.”

“What? What people think they’re doing vs. what they’re actually doing, you mean?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “exactly.”

“Well, I could talk your ear off, right down to the bone, on all sorts of things like that if you want me too, but I bet you ain’t got the tape for it all.”

“Oh yeah?” He took a big drag, and let it out again, though the thing looked like it had nothing but paper left in it. “How’d you and Johnny meet?” he asked.

And you know, you promised Johnny, so you just said that you met him around.

“Around?”

“Yeah, around.”

And that you weren’t nothing serious, but weren’t nothing not serious, you know?

“How’s that work?”

“Just does.”

Nothing serious, but something sort of something, and you left it at that, all right, you aren’t one to be breaking nothing without meaning to—

“You don’t wanna talk about it?”

“No, I don’t mind talking about it.”

“But Johnny does?”

“Something like that.”

You’re just spending time with each other, you said, you and Johnny, you’re just getting to know each other and enjoying the fact, that’s all. You didn’t really say nothing about anything after that, every question that went a little too far, you shrugged off, you know, real professional about it, like they do at work when something’s close to the wire and purposely so.

“Johnny ever mention how things with him and Betty ended?”

“We don’t talk about that so much.”

Come on, right, your old thing and your new thing, that’s the kinda stuff no-one’s looking to mix up, and especially not someone like Johnny, you mean, well, what’s the kid thinking asking a thing like that? You had to say something, just to put him back in his place a little.

But then you really, actually, didn’t say much else afterwards, zipped up real tight, you promise—and besides, Johnny came back round about then, and Danny seemed to sense he was suddenly being nosey to a sort of person that don’t like being nosed to, and packed up real quick. Which was a little sad, sure, cause you would’a liked to hear him ask something the both of you could answer, but he just said, 

“I’ll talk to you another time, Lips.”

And that was that.

Wasn’t long after that they started fighting, which was all sorts of dumb, and made you really wish you had spent more time talking to Danny, or maybe even gone to find somewhere to take a piss yourself, because, God, what a mess that was. 

If it was any other guy, or bunch of guys, it would've really got to you, would’ve maybe even scared you, but, Hell, your boys were as misplaced as the other club they were scrapping, whichever way you looked at it. Something about someone accusing Cal of scratching some bike, something real small you know, and it would’ve maybe been nothing if Benny hadn’t made it something, but he came flying in all hot and swinging, and then the whole field was a mess. All punching and rolling and swearing. Like watching a group of toddlers work out that if they folded their hand up, it could make a, what’a ya call it? A fist. Wow. 

Real load of tools.

At one point, Johnny had three guys hanging off him, and if you weren’t rolling your eyes so much, you could’ve thought that was impressive, you know, holding his own like that. But it was all just nonsense, and you were getting no sort of attention or consideration or nothing. 

And like you said, if Benny hadn’t come in like that, and punched the guy when he was just talking to Johnny, only talking, the whole thing could’ve been avoided. They had no real reason to be fighting like that until Benny came in hotter than anyone with any sense would’ve, and he kept going like that, right up until his hand went through a window and the blood and the glass got all mushed up into some guys face—and that’s when Johnny finally had the brains to put a stop to it. 

Thank God, you remember thinking, somebody finally told the dog ’no’ before he bit down too hard. 

Never seen nothing like it, and what was weirder still? Afterwards the lot of them sat down with a crate of beers, and the guy that was accusing Cal of scratching, ended up sitting right there with him, laughing about some other story from another day. Like nothing ever happened, while their fists were still bleeding and their noses were going all black and blue. 

It’s whatever, right? Guys being dumb fucks, and fucking dumb about it. The way you look at it, it had nothing to do with you, still got nothing to do with you, and as long as they were only hurting other fools like themselves, you ain’t too worried about it.

But it did sort of bother you afterwards, how Johnny was with you. He went even quieter than quiet. Spoke to Benny a little, and to Brucey. Took a beer from you to hold it against his knuckles—though it wasn’t much cool by then—and that was sort of it. When you was sitting about the place later, he didn’t even sit by you; just took a lean against his bike and left you between stinking drunk 1, and stinking drunk 2, which is what you’ve taken to calling Wahoo and Corky, cause you’ve never seen them anyway different. 

You figured maybe he was tired. Or embarrassed. Or hurting from the scrap like an old man should be, but none of those things explained kind of ignoring you the way he was. 

You couldn’t make peace with it—you still can’t—and by the end of the evening, you were standing while they were all sitting, and Johnny was across the circle from you there, and he hadn’t looked up at you since the fire got started. Too busy drinking and listening to Cal telling some story about a pot smoker he knew back some time ago. Which really did start to bother you. Cause, what? The fire, or some story you’ve heard a million times, is more interesting to you, John?  

“I think I ought to be heading out now,” you said, real loud so the conversation died a little, and you sure enjoyed killing it. “Don’t fancy camping out here,” you said.

Then everyone was looking at you, but Johnny last, and no-one said anything until Corky said, “I’ll take you.”

Which would have sure enough been a death sentence, but did you more of a favour than he even knew, cause it got Johnny groaning and pulling himself up like it was the hardest thing in the world. 

“Fuck you talkin’m bout,” he muttered, “fuck you will, Corky. Come on. Come on, Lips.”

And then his arm was over your shoulder and your arms stayed crossed, cause for a second you weren’t sure you wanted him touching you like that, though that second didn’t last anywhere near as long as it should’ve. If you had any pride, that is. 

“So you do remember me?” you said, trying to be smart and cutting, in that petty way you can be, when things start stinging more than they itch.

“Huh?” he said. “What’s that?”

But he was already turning you toward that bike of his, somewhere out there in the dark. Red, shining, beacon that it is. So you decided to leave it. 

And maybe it was a punishment, and maybe it was just a coincidence, and maybe it was kind of sort of both—but after that, you went away for a little while. 

You got some friends a ways from here that just had a baby, well, you say just, but you’re hearing it’s—she’s—starting to crawl already, so maybe your just and their just ain’t really the same thing—but they had a baby anyhow. Two people that were stuck in the same company as you, and used to eat lunch with you, but two people people that got the fuck out of there when you didn’t, and made better for it, you know. Not that you hate your job, but it won’t be the end for you, and they took a highway to the start of the end; the good end you reckon, marriage, baby, big house with a fenced in yard, and you’ve never seen them since. 

So you go to them. Figure you owe it to them, for being the only ones there that were worthwhile making friends of, and owe it to yourself to do a little something or other every now and then. Can’t just be work, porch, Johnny, sleep, work, forever now, can it? 

You pack up a little case, and wrap up those baby suits that are almost definitely too small by now, and stuff the lot and yourself onto a bus that goes overnight, cause you really aren’t keen on staying up for long journeys on your own.

They’re real happy, by the way. And the baby’s a dream, round and squishy and smiling like she knows everything you don’t, and it’s real good seeing them again. Felt like sitting right there at the lunch table like they never left, and if you’re honest, the whole time you’re there, you never mentioned Johnny once to them. Cause they wouldn’t…well, why would you? And you find you don’t really think about him all too much either. It’s just baby noises in the day and drinking when the house is finally quiet. 

Which you think you needed, really, just for a change. Just you and them, you as you used to be, not even that long ago. Like opening the door to a neighbour who’s been away for a while.

You’re glad you went, and you’re just as glad to come back. Johnny creeps up on you on the bus home sorta, like, you’re trying to sleep, but you get thinking about him again, about how good it’ll be to see him. To kiss him. To tell him about your trip into the land of the normal people, where none of you guys are ever gonna belong.

But when you do get back, God, a week could’ve been a year. 

Johnny turns up the next morning, Sunday, like he’d been coming by every day, or something, like he was coming by just to prove that you weren’t there still, only to find you actually were there, and, fuck, he looks so different. You almost feel like you don’t know him when you clock him through the window. 

What it is, you see, is he’s not wearing his jacket, his colors. No leathers or patches. Got some blue shirt on and a white one underneath it, like he’s a, well, like he’s just some truck driver, or something. Some regular guy. And he’s not on his bike neither, he’s got the car, so when you’re opening that door it feels like you’re greeting a stranger.

A stranger who says, “Where’ve you been?” before you’re even off the step.

No hi, no hello, no thank God you’re back, I missed you so much, baby. Just, where’ve you been? 

“Around.” You hug your arms a little. What’s going on with you—is what you wanna ask him, but he cuts you off right as you open your mouth. 

“What’s that mean?” he asks, though he’s saying it like he doesn’t believe you before you even answer, like he’s mad at you, almost. 

And look, you know, you’re not really in no position to be petty about it, seeing as you took a trip without saying nothing, and he’s not being any ruder than he might’ve been some other time, but it grates on you. Gets your hackles up. It’s only been a week, right? Just a week. What the hell can happen in a time like that?

“It means I’ve been around, Johnny. Seeing friends up state.” He don’t look satisfied by the answer, rattling his keys in his hands still, lingering on the street down there. So you say, “I got a life too, you know. I don’t just sit around, waiting for you to swing by.”

You don’t mean it like a real insult, just a matter of fact thing, and he seems to take it as much. Which is almost as worrying as if he didn’t, cause he really doesn’t seem like the man you left behind the other weekend. 

“You could’ve told me,” he says, “could’a let me know.” And he is mad at you, you think, but he’s something else too, and he can’t even look at you really, just stares at your feet, at the step you’re waiting on. 

So you drop down onto the next one, to give him a little help. “I could’ve,” you say. Probably should of, but you don’t feel like saying that part, cause, well, you’re not perfect and you don’t try to be. Who is? Gotta give yourself a little leeway sometime, don’t you?

He clears his throat. Flicks his eyes up for half a second that you don’t miss. “I was worrying about you.”

“Yeah?”

“Wrong fucking time to take off, Lips.”

He says it like he means it, in more than a boyfriend grumbling about missing a few kisses kind of way, which makes you frown, and cross your arms, and say his name once to get him to finally look at you. “Something happen?”

He shakes his head, no surprise there. Always fighting it on a reflex. Then he looks down the street to the right of him, then at his keys, thumb toying with one of them, and then he nods. It’s small, but you see it. 

“You wanna come in?” you ask, and he makes a noise that’s Johnny speech for yeah, but I won’t be saying as much, so you turn back, up to the door, and he follows like he never has done before. 

*

“Sit down. I’ll get a beer.”

Johnny grunts, but does what you say—and you hate that. You really do, you have to make yourself look away from him and into the kitchen before you can think too much on it. It’s just more fucking clues of him being all outside of himself, blue shirt, tired eyes, slack shoulders as he drops into the couch, there’s something up with him, sure, but it’s more up than it ever has been, you know. And you hope this isn’t your fault. It really can’t be all your whole entire fault, right? 

Something happened, he said, something, not you, but something. And he was annoyed sure, but not cause you went away, only that you weren’t here when that something happened and he needed you to be, yeah? That sounds sort of reasonable, don’t it? Yeah, that’s all it is, you’re sure.

The fridge is empty, cause of course it is, but there’s a warm box of bottles in the back of the cupboard, so you take two of them out to him.

“Sorry,” you pass him one, “would’ve chilled ‘em if I knew.”

“S’okay.” 

He pops the cap with the end of one of his keys, and then he holds it back out to you, cause he’s figured out what you haven’t—that you didn’t bring nothing to open them with—and switches his for yours, then opens that one too. 

You take a swig at the same time. Him sitting, you standing. Looks real fucking weird from where you are, Johnny sitting in that beat up couch your Pops left behind. You never did think about what it’d be like to have him in here, and honestly, it’s sort of like nothing, but that sight, yeah, that’s a little strange. Johnny on the couch you opened Santa’s presents on. He’s right there in the middle, over the line where the two cushions meet, sinking in like he’s growing out of it, coming up like a loose spring, which leaves you no room as much as it leaves you plenty. 

“First time you been in here,” you say.

“Yeah.”

“You like it?”

He looks at you over the end of the bottle, lips poised for another drink. 

“Right. Yeah. Doesn’t matter.” You sit on the arm of the chair behind you, the big lounger that you eat, sleep, and live out of. “You don’t seem like yourself, Johnny.”

He makes you wait a little, rubbing his free palm over his face, scrubbing away at the look that won’t shift, but he does eventually tell you. Figures he can’t be sitting there saying nothing, when he’s already given you enough to know there’s something that needs saying. He says, “Benny got into some trouble.”

And of course, you say, “What sort of trouble?”

“The bad kind.” He shakes his head, making a noise like he’s got a word stuck and won’t let it out, settling on, “yeah, s’bad,” instead. 

“Well, is he alright? What happened?”

“Got into it with some guys.”

You scoff. “Ain’t that normal for him?”

“Got his foot cut off, nearly. Almost all the way. The ankle.”

“Jesus Christ.” Now you’re looking like a real asshole, laughing at a man getting his foot chopped off. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Johnny says, looking at the rug, “yeah. Bad.”

“Why’d someone do a fucking thing like that?”

He drinks again and wipes his lips on the back of his hand afterwards. “For wearing his colors someplace that don’t like it.”

You sit on that for a minute, because that makes sense, sure, in the world of men eating men, but from that to something going right through Benny’s ankle, is a Hell of a leap to make. Elevation takes a few steps, you know, two to tango—but from the look on his face, you figure this ain’t the sort of thing Johnny’s gonna be gossiping about. No retelling of the punches that led to the slices, that’s for sure.

“D’you know who did it?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Did you tell the cops?”

He laughs. Well, sort of laughs, more like exhales with a smile weaselling up behind it. “No, we didn’t tell the cops. We handled it. S’all done with.”

He says it with finality. With a big, fat, DO NOT ENTER sign pressed over his forehead. Done with. Handled. Don’t ask me no more things about it.

Yeah. The warm beer’s feeling even warmer now, with how cold your palms are going. 

You’ve seen how clubs like the Vandals deal with arguments that aren’t really arguments, and you’ve seen how men act, when they catch a tougher man, out-toughing them. Handled never means what it would mean to regular folk, so you ask,

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“Johnny, what did you do?”

He looks at you long enough to decide if you’re a person worth lying to or not, you reckon, and he settles on the right half of the debate. “Burned it down,” he says.

Now it’s your turn to breathe like you’re laughing, but only, it’s in blind disbelief when it’s coming from you. “Burned what down?”

“The bar they was hanging out in. Their place. Their Spotlight.”

“Are you fucking crazy?”

“Benny could’ve lost his leg, could’ve been off the bike for good.”

“And you could’ve been in fucking jail, Johnny, what the fuck?”

His head shakes a little, and he sits back into your couch with the beer on the crotch of his jeans. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s done. Nothing happened and nothing will happen.”

You’re chewing on your lip, cause as much as you wanna tell him how stupid he is, how downright crazy and fucking irresponsible he is, you gotta play your next cards real neat. Cause this is the point, right? This is where the ship passes dock and you can either throw yourself overboard, or tuck in and hope the storm ain’t a bad one. 

“And the guys that did it?” you churn out. “Handled them too?”

“Does it matter?”

“My God.” You put your head in your hand, massaging out the vein that’s no doubt bursting free of the skin. Handled it. They handled it. Jesus, you knew they were sort of bad, sort of righteous, and you figured they dabbled with shit the same way all big groups of dudes dabble with shit—you mean, even the kooks your Mom surrounded herself with had secrets that you could’ve never imagined, if you hadn’t been right there to hear it from them. 

“You should’ve seen him, Lips,” Johnny says. “Was in a real bad way. Just for being one of us, y’know, he didn’t do nothing.” 

You take another drink, having forgotten it was even an option, and honestly, you can’t even look at him for a little while. You put your eyes on the label like you’re reading it, or whatever. He thought he was gonna lose him, clearly, thought his Benny was one tendon away from disappearing on him, and look what happened. How quick he went from Johnny Davis to Johnny Strabler. 

“So, what?” you say eventually. “You never wearing your patches again?”

“Nah, just when we’re on our own, y’know. Just for a little while.”

You snort. “Great plan. Gang violence eradicated from America.”

“Hey.” He says it so sharp that you look up at him. “No. Don’t say shit like that.”

“You gonna deny it?” you bite back. “I don’t see many chess clubs burning places down, Johnny.”

He doesn’t think you get it, doesn’t think your view of things is the fair view of things—you can tell by the way he’s frowning at you. “We look after each other,” he says, “wasn’t gonna let them do that to one of ours and get away with it.”

You shake your head, growing real tired of it real quick. It’s done, you suppose, like he said, everything’s all square—until some other guy pisses on their territory, that is.

“I don’t like it,” you say, which is putting it way lighter than he deserves, but you can’t think of nothing else to say. He’s set on it, the shit’s over with, and you weren’t even around when it happened. You didn’t come into it at all, really. 

“So you’re gonna leave again,” he says.

“What?”

“That’s why you went away, right? After the show?”

“I told you, I was visiting friends.”

“Without saying nothing?”

You shrug. He didn’t ask if you’d be around when he dropped you off that night, and you were still icing him out for being so indifferent with you—which, you might’ve asked him about now, if things didn’t go the way they have, cause if he was regretting you seeing him scrapping with a bunch of fools in the grass, then he sure got over that quick. Sitting there, drinking your beer, talking about burning bars down and ‘handling’ guys for hurting what’s ours.

“If you don’t…if you don’t want this—“

“I never said I didn’t want nothing,” you cut him off, real snappy with it. “I’m just thinking, is all. Jeez.” 

He nods, looking a little bit hurt, like a pup that caught Mom’s canine tooth, but you kinda think he deserves it. Just this once. “I had to do something,” he says. “Make a point.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“S’better that they’re scared of us.”

“Johnny,” you wince a little, “I really can’t be dealing with you saying things like that. It’s not—it’s not you.”

He hums one of his hums, and it’s not agreeing or disagreeing at all, it’s something completely flat. Undecided. Something he does just to save him from saying anything else. 

“Benny’s gonna be alright?” you ask, cause you’re trying to shake all the drops of the conversation off of you, tick all the boxes and shut it up for good. “He can walk still?”

“Yeah,” Johnny nods, then clears his throat, “Doc says it’ll take a bit, but, yeah. S’gone be alright.”

“Well, that’s something.”

Benny will walk again, meaning Benny will ride again, meaning Johnny really shouldn’t go doing something stupid again. At least not on that scale, you hope. You wish it wasn’t hooked up that way, but well, wishing never got you nothing so far. If Benny is what makes him tick, then God, keep it ticking. 

“You wanna go get some food?” you suggest, watching him finish the last of his beer. Cause he did say he’d been worrying, you remember, when he first got here, and maybe he really had been swinging by every day just to check on you. “Feel like I should at least make up for my, y’know, disappearing on you.”

And he really should make up for—

“Nah, I gotta head off.”

“Oh?”

“Gotta go get the girls. Said I’d take them shopping.” He stands, leaving the bottle on the floor by his feet, and wipes his palms down his stomach as he stretches. “Stopped by just to—yeah. I’m glad you’re back.”

You nod, standing too, in that awkward, expected of you way, that people do when guests are making an exit. 

“Glad you’re sticking around,” he says, “even with all the…”

“Yeah.” 

With all the violence and bullshit that should have you running for the fucking hills. But the way you see it, you spent all your childhood in those hills, and a long while after that too, and you really don’t feel like making your way back there anytime soon. First time in a long while that you’ve had somewhere flat to plant your feet. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you tell him. Meaning now, and in the bigger sense, too, which he gets. You can see it in his eyes, in the way he puts his arm up to touch your waist, cause you’re far enough that he can’t reach anything else. “Come by after you drop them home?” 

His eyebrow quirks a little. “Yeah? It’ll be late.”

“I’ll be up.” 

“Alright, sure. I’ll come.”

And you’re glad of that, cause as he leaves, he’s still sort of looking like a stranger to you—even more so than he did when he got in here—and you got a mighty need to find out where that man of yours went. Where he’s staying, somewhere under those new clothes of his. You’d wait up all night, for him to come back around, if it meant finding him again.  

____________

taglist: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @cositapreciosa @raven-black102 @lyralu91 @hoodeddreams13 @businesscalamity

[flatw00ds]

 found my old Redwall books and got mad cuz like...I’ve never been a fan of the Tolkien/DnD style of good vs evil (i.e. “some races are bad and will always be bad because they’re just born that way”), but at least those kinds of settings have, yknow...magic? Saying “they’re born evil because an evil god tortured their ancestors so bad their whole species can never feel love” is still bullshit, but it’s bullshit because it’s boring--I can at least suspend my disbelief for it.

BUT REDWALL. The bad guy species are not magically evil, and have on multiple occasions throughout the books demonstrated remorse, compassion, etc. BUT THEY’RE ALWAYS ‘BAD’. Why is that. Why are they always stealing land? Did the mice oust them from their homelands? Before the badger lords, did Salamandastron belong to the rats, and are the repeated seige attempts just an attempt to move back in? Are they forced to steal since none of the non-vermin races will trade with them due to stigma? Is there a religious crusades-style war going on that we never get to see, or something, and Redwall Abbey is just perpetually on the fringes of it? what the fuck

anyway i made a weasel for my cool Redwall AU where the 'bad’ species are just normal folks, some good some not, in a cold war of racial tension with the highly religious mouse-led alliance of ‘pure’ races who seek to drive the ‘vermin’ from their lands 

EDIT: you know I don’t even have to call it an AU, I’m gonna just straight up say that’s what’s going on behind the scenes in the books

[sasster]

cant pick a favorite cus i have many different reasons so here is my summary (the others i dont know or remember much about)

emarra: originally hot shadow-clown daddy. then maelia beat the shit out of him. now i enjoy watching this man scramble to collect what's left of his self-esteem and pretend he's still a big bad. point-and-laugh material. poor little meow meow in a deserved, karmic sort of way. awaiting the day he loses everything and everyone (affectionate).

redivi: INTJ. grandpa twink. believes he is the good guy in the story. does he struggle with his own immorality, or does he hate himself for being unable to control the narrative? the cognitive dissonance he attepts to suppress when confronted with the possibility he is not a hero. on the outside, chess-level mastery of manipulation. what makes him tick on the inside is intriguing.

persep: he is funny to me. quirky mouth-stitches guy. relateable to my autism. hot otter. big ego. would love to see him mouth off to the wrong person. oh also brought back orfuse i guess for reasons unknown to me. seems to fuck off and do whatever he wants and i love that for him.

maelia: quickest villain-to-quirky-uncle turnaround i've ever seen. DILF material. we love us some moral complexity. to quote wreck it ralph, he is bad guy but not bad guy. projecting my parent issues onto him (affectionate)

weasel: ❤❤❤ perfect little guy. smug with a big ego but also actually has a sense of self-preservation in the sense he can recognize those more powerful than him. if he was a cat he would be a long haired siamese and he would be so pampered. he knows he is perfect ❤ so endearing

first of all im kissing you with tongue

second of all

IN EMARRAS DEFENSE..... maelias like... y'know. it makes sense to get your ass beat by maelia

y'know?

[why-bless-your-heart]

Why dont catholics think its cringe to rape kids? That seems cringe to me but you keep doing it.

First of all, given that the victims of sexually abusive Catholic priests are almost all Catholics themselves, you need to be really careful if you dare to talk to strangers like that.

Secondly, hypocrisy and sanctioning are two different things. Catholic theology consistently and resoundingly condemns pedophilia. The logic is clear and solid:

The sexual act must be unitive and procreative. This means that it only belongs between a willing man and a willing woman who have already pledged their lives to each other in the promise of raising and supporting any children who may come their way.

Contraception, masturbation, sodomy, onanism, surrogacy, IVF, adultery, polygamy, human cloning, incest, rape, pedophilia, etc. are all grave sins for the same reason: they divorce the sexual act from its unitive and/or procreative aspects.

Because all of these are wrong for the same reason, you must either condemn or condone all of them. If you try to condone just one, you’ll soon find that you have no grounds for condemning the others.

The secular wisdom at the moment is that anything goes as long as it’s between consenting adults. This gives no grounds for condemning incest. It also leaves plenty of wiggle room for predators to weasel about what “consenting” and “adult” actually means. The fact that the idea of a “safe word” is common instead of your partner just saying “ouch,” or “stop,” or “I don’t like this any more,” should show you how quickly using consent as the baseline deteriorates, and the disgusting opinions we’re seeing more and more often about how kids 12 and even younger should be “exploring their sexualities” is a clear indicator that using adult as the baseline is also on its way out the door.

Most rational people are not actually predators and know that any sort of a romantic relationship with a child is wrong. But if you press them on why it’s wrong, the secular worldview doesn’t provide a satisfactory answer. “Because it’s illegal,” so what? Laws change all the time. Sodomy used to be illegal and now it’s not, why should this be any different? “Because it’s bad for the child,” now we’re getting closer, but if you listen to what predators say, they’re claiming it’s not bad for the child. It gives them physical pleasure and they’re building a relationship with an adult who ‘loves’ them. According to the predators, it’s our social taboos and unrelenting persecution that’s actually bad for the child. How do you prove these predators wrong? Are you able to say that some sex acts are evil even when both parties want to do it? “Because kids shouldn’t be having anything to do with sex,” you’re absolutely right, but why are you right? As a Catholic, I can say it’s because a child is not emotionally, physically, or mentally ready to take on the responsibilities of being a parent. A secular person can’t say that and be consistent because they don’t think you have to be emotionally, physically, or mentally ready to be a parent in order to have anything to do with sex. The Catholic worldview doesn’t just tell you that pedophilia is wrong, it tells you exactly how and why it is wrong, and it does so in a consistent manner.

The Catholic Church has had its crimes, committed by its laypeople, priests, religious, bishops, and even popes. It has failed time and time again to live by its own teachings. But the fact remains that it is the only church with true teachings.

[rachaellikesyaoi]

I posted 8,839 times in 2021

20 posts created (0%)

8819 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 440.9 posts.

I added 4,161 tags in 2021

#dean winchester - 657 posts

#castiel - 625 posts

#make me laugh - 606 posts

#destiel - 592 posts

#spn - 550 posts

#julia - 292 posts

#supernatural - 290 posts

#barry - 203 posts

#deancas - 178 posts

#sam winchester - 168 posts

Longest Tag: 133 characters

#there are so many pieces in the finale that just dont make any sense. it fundamentally breaks and pulls and references so many things

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I can't wait for 20 years from now when they reboot supernatural and we all rise up from the grave like those shitty zombies at the end of s14/start of s15. It'll be great.

1 notes • Posted 2021-02-28 12:48:10 GMT

#4

I just want to fucking scream

1 notes • Posted 2021-06-18 11:06:04 GMT

#3

spn asks: 8, 9, 11, 14, 27

Oh my god!!! Yay! Thank you for the ask!!!

8. Favorite Cas?

Endverse!Cas. Love my little Stoner dude who fell from grace and would follow Dean to the end of the world. I've literally been reading 'Down to Agincourt' by seperis and I'm almost on book four. Which is dedication, because it's beautifully written and lacking any smut. That's how much I love Endvers!Cas.

9. Favorite Dean?

Demon!Dean. How could you not love him? Sure, he's a 'bad guy,' but so is Billie Eilish and I'd follow both of them into hell with a smile.

11. Which episode do you wish we had gotten?

I honestly think it's a tie between Human!Impala, and a body swap episode. I would have loved to see Baby as some hot stud and Dean being all flustered when Baby inevitably asks why Dean is calling him 'the car' or 'impala' instead of their given name which is Baby. BUT I would have also loved to see Cas and Dean switch bodies and see Jensen and Misha acting like the other's characters. It would have been great.

14. If there was a reverse French Mistake, who would cope the best?

I think Jensen would, because he's essentially Dean Winchester, but more adjusted. I'm sure if given some time to train, then he'd fit into the position well.

27. Which would you rather have addressed in canon: Cas killing countless copes of Dean or Dean's grief each time Cas died?

I think I'd want his grief addressed, because unlike with other deaths of Dean's loved ones, I feel like Cas' deaths never got the same treatment? I dunno. I'm probably wrong, but I feel like when John, Mary, Bobby, or anyone else got a more fleshed out grieving Dean than anytime Cas passed. But maybe that was the point? 🤷🏼‍♀️

Thank you for the ask! I don't think I've ever done one before!

2 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 15:15:00 GMT

#2

Need New Blogs to Follow

I haven’t done this in years, but I’m looking for active blogs to follow for all of my fandom needs. If you post any of these fandoms, please reblog or like this post and I will check out your page and probably follow!

Supernatural

Doctor Who

Umbrella Academy

Marvel 

DC

Star Trek

Yu Yu Hakusho

Lovecraft Country

Disney

Stardew Valley

Animal Crossing

Kingdom Hearts

Good Omens

The Boys

Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Persona

Spider-Man (Anything)

Sherlock

Miss Kobiyahsi’s Dragon Maid

Fruits Basket

Cowboy Bebop

Yuri on Ice

11 notes • Posted 2021-06-15 14:43:40 GMT

#1

I was today years old when I learned that Sean Gunn, James Gunn brother and the actor who plays Kraglin in the MCU, also does the motion capture for Rocket.

He also did the mod-capping for the Weasel in the new the Suicide Squad movie. 

Huh.

22 notes • Posted 2021-08-25 14:25:14 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[kaz11283]

It took me forever just to sit down and write this.  Not gonna lie I hit a rock straight up, but if yall just bear with me through this part at least we will be back to smooth sailing.  It’s just been such a rough week with everything going on around the world.  Let’s use this as an escape even if it is just for a little bit.  I’m gonna start kinda having a certain day of the week when I release stuff, right now I am thinking maybe Tuesday and Friday?  Still bouncing things off in my head, but that will give me a time frame and give yall a day when to expect something.  Much love, and thank you to everyone that has started following this journey with me and has followed, liked, and reblogged!  I don’t know what I would do without the support and I am loving the feedback and I am over the moon by what recognition I have gotten.  It’s not big but every little thing makes me feel so special and I am so happy that I am getting to share a piece of me with all of yall!!!

~~~~

Best Friends

Chapter 4

You 17, Sam 18, Dean 21

 

“He’s gone y/n,” Bobby said walking into the living room where you had taken up residence on the couch since you had gotten the call from John two days before. “He wouldn’t want you sulking around here like you are.  He would want you to get up off this couch and at least go take a shower.”  He popped the top on the beer he had in his hand and gave it to you.

“Uncle Bobby you know I don’t drink that stuff.”  You said pushing it away.  You wrapped the blanket around you tighter. “It just surprises me, ya know?  Everything that man has fought in his life, every monster, creature, everything and the man dies in a freakin car accident.”

“Fate has a weird scene of humor sometimes.  He was a good hunter, damn good brother, and a pretty ok father.  He did raise a pretty smart girl if you ask me, course I don’t know where you got it from.  Probably your mother’s side of the family along with her looks.”  He said leaning back and pulling you to his chest.  “I would love to tell you that it gets better, that the pain just slowly goes away until it’s not there anymore but it doesn’t.  You just learn to get use to it.  Some days are easier to get through than others, somedays it won’t even cross your mind, but you’re gonna have your bad days and on those days is when you’re gonna need to talk, let someone help.”  He said kissing the top of your head and getting up to stretch. “But really, go take a shower, I think that your funk is starting to seep into the couch.  Might have to burn it and get another one.”

“No!  I like this couch.  Its broken in just right.  Besides a new couch would just throw the whole room off, we would have to paint, get all new furniture, probably throw away a lot of your junk.  It just wouldn’t work out with a new one.” You got up and collected your blankets.  “Thank you Uncle Bobby for being here, helping raise me, teach me, letting me stay here when you didn’t have to.  Your probably the best thing that’s happened to me.” You said leaning up and kissing the old man on the cheek before you walked up the stairs.

~~~

 You woke to voices down stairs in the kitchen and the smell of bacon and coffee, your uncle didn’t normally cook unless-

You bolted up out of bed and hightailed it down stairs to see your favorite family sitting at the table idly chit chatting with Bobby. “Sammy! Dean!”  The two large men stood up and gave you a hug squeezing you between them like a sandwich.  “Oh I missed yall so much!”  You through your arms around both of their necks pulling them down to your level and squishing their cheeks to yours.

“Hey sweetheart, how you holdin’ up?”  John asked bending down to give you a hug.  You had somehow managed to weasel your way into the eldest Winchesters heart when you was young running around with Sam and Dean causing trouble.

“I’m doin good John.  It makes it a little easier knowing that he didn’t hurt, ya know.  It was quick.”  You shrugged taking your seat between the two brothers.

You all sat and ate breakfast talking about the latest hunt that the guys had been on, hearing John talk about hunts with your dad, listening to Bobby rant about having to bandage up the both of them more times than he cared to.  It had started out as a good day.

“So Sammy, any plans after you finally finish school?”  You asked over you cup of coffee.

“Yes and no.  I don’t know what I really want to do yet.  I got my acceptance letter from Stanford the other day but we haven’t really discussed it any further.”  Sam said looking down.

“Sammy here wants to be a lawyer.”  John laughed.  “Of all things.  Been training the boy his whole life to hunt and now he wants to throw it all away for a ‘higher education’.” John rolled his eyes.

“What’s wrong with that?  I got accepted into KCU working on getting my RN.”  You asked raising an eyebrow at the man.  “He doesn’t wanna follow the family business I don’t see where that’s a problem.  Besides, then you would have someone to get both your asses outta trouble if need be.”

“Y/n you always knew you didn’t wanna do this-“

“But Sammy did.  I think he should have a little bit of a say so in his future.”  You said leaning back and crossing your arms in front of you.  “Don’t worry Sammy, I’ll come visit you on weekends.”

“So you got accepted to KCU and didn’t tell me yet?”  Bobby asked trying to change the subject.

“Well a lot of stuff has happened since I got the letter.  Honestly I didn’t think I was gonna get in, I didn’t turn in all my stuff till last minute.”  KCU had only been a pipe dream for you, going into the medical field was kind of an easy choice; you had stitched, bandaged, and pulled out bullets from more than one hunter that had come through Bobby’s door on many occasions.

“So a collage girl now?”  Dean said winking at you.

“Gross no, you’re my brother.” You wrinkled your nose and made a disgusted look at him

“Ew NO!  Not you!  Trust me I’ve already seem more of you than I ever care about seeing-“ That earned a hard glare from both John and Bobby to both of you.

“Shut up Dean.”

“Like the time we had stayed out all night drinkin and went skinny dippin in the lake.”

“Shut up Dean.”

“Or the time that we had the bet that you wouldn’t walk out on the field during homecoming and moon everyone.”  Bobby crossed his arms, you hadn’t told him the reason you had been suspended from school that week

“Dean, I will hit you so hard that your kids will feel it.”

“Or the time-” You punched him hard “OW!”  He grabbed his arm holding it while Sam busted out laughing.

“There are certain things that you don’t say Dean.” You stared at him with wide eyes.  “Like the time that you begged me to come get you from whats her names house at like three in the morning so that you wouldn’t get caught sneaking back into the hotel that we were staying at, or the time that we had to get Sam to cover for us because we snuck out to go to that party, or ho-”

“OK! Grounded, both of you.  Till further notice.”  Bobby pointed at you and Dean.

“I’m 21 Bobby!”  Dean yelled looking at his dad for help, John simply shrugged his shoulders.

“Your joking me?  Uncle Bobby, you’ve never grounded me before!”

“Well y/n there’s a first time for everything.  Seems like I just didn’t’ know that you need to be grounded all the time.”  Bobby said shaking his head.

“Well thanks for taking the pressure off me guys.”  Sam said draping his arm around the back of your chair laughing.

“Sam, watch it, I’m sure you had your help in something too with these two bad influences around.” John warned.

~~~

The next week was spent going over information about the hunt the boys were about to do, gun training, and hanging out with the boys. With them getting older they werent able to come around as much as they use to so when you were together you made the most of your time. Sam had decided to hang back and go over some more books of Bobby's while you and Dean went for burgers.

"When are you gonna start huntin with us y/n?" Dean asked looking over his burger.

"Dean, we've went over this. I'm better behind a book looking up lore, or with a needle and thread in my hand. I dont do field work. I dont like having to chop heads or burn bodies."

"Your good with any weapon put in your hand, your freakin awesome at fighting. I'm just sayin I ever have to go off on my own your the first one I would call." He shrugged.

"Well I guess I'm lucky that you'll have Sammy then right?" You said whipping off your hands. "But you ever need any research done I'm your girl."

"Sammy's going to collage. Hes getting out." Dean said looking down. "I act all butt hurt and upset that hes leaving but I'm not, not really. I'm actually really proud. Proud of him and you. You both did something that I never imagined could happen."

"But I'm going to collage to learn how to help people when they get attacked Dean, I wouldnt say that was 'getting out'."

"But when this is over and you decide you dont wanna do this anymore you'll have a fall back. Sammy is going to be a lawyer, what can I do? I'm good at killing things."

"You can be a professional hunter," he snorted "ummm, oh, or a gun salesman, or a secret agent." You laughter with him on that one. "Hunters lives is a whole lie anyways I think you could pull it off. Wear a suit, woo a girl." You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Whatever. Let's go home, I heard theres a Hatchetman marathon tonight. Think we could get Sam to join us like old times?"

"I'll grab the snacks." You said throwing your arm around his middle.

~~~~~

Tag List

@samsgirl93

@spn-obession

@iitslibassi

[lemonietrinket]

Jae’s Divine Intervention ||| Wonpil x Reader, Jae & Reader

Summary: Jae finds out about your crush on Wonpil and naturally takes the mick out of you. And when you get to play detective, you find out he’s perhaps more supportive than you would normally imagine.  Genre: Humour, fluff [if you guys dont find this funny then i... its just me] Warning(s): Some cursing all done in jest (2x sh*t) Word Count: 7735  Theme Song: Tonight - The Solutions; Dive - iKON; Hold - Winner AN: A request from anon, hope you enjoy! I’m sorry it took a while, it’s a lot longer than I usually write tho so I hope that makes up for it gender neutral reader

~~~

“Wonpil?!”

“Jae, I swear to christ—”

“Wonpil?!” Jae’s voice was rising in pitch by the second, a look of astounded horror on his face.

“Yes, Wonpil, what’s so—”

“Our keys? The snake? Our snake that plays the keys?”

“Really, you’re still using that? That’s like, three years old Jae—”

“You—you took one look at the pink sweater and went hmmm, yes, this is the hot stuff, real sexy—”

“Jae!”

“—any man that wears this I will date him on the spot—!”

“Jae!” 

The man cackled, leaning right back into his gaming chair with his head tipped over the side. “Oh my god this is just...!”

You pressed your tongue to your cheek, waiting for the grown man to gather himself up. Though, knowing Jae, it could well take a while. “You finished?”

He swung back, elbows coming to his knees with his eyes incredulous. “Kim Wonpil?”

“Yes.”

“Not Brian?”

“Why would it be Brian?”

He inhaled through his teeth, tutting. “It’s always Brian. And then, of course, yours truly.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “I regret ever talking to you.”

He sat back, sending you a smirk. “Nahh, you would never regret me.”

“Can we just go back to discussing like, dinner tonight?” you glanced distastefully around at his room, taking note of the pile of laundry abandoned by his wardrobe. “Like I came into your lair for in the first place?” 

“Hey, easy there—!”

“Honestly Sungjin would have a fit if he comes in here,” you announced, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Well it’s a good job he isn’t coming in here.” Jae easily met your stare, pursing his lips, knowing full well that starting a battle with him would be the hardest you could try to win in the dorm. You backed down, but didn’t shy away from his stare as he pressed his fingertips together, taking on the role of a faux mastermind, “But no, dinner can wait, because this—this—is much more intriguing.”

Taking in the nod of his head, and the smug grin on his features, you realised that you weren’t going to escape as you’d hoped. Might as well be comfortable.

“Now,” he began once you took a seat on his bed, flicking a rogue sock to the floor, “start from the beginning. When did you realise that you were hopelessly in love with this, Mr Kim.”

“Since when was this an interrogation?” you interjected. “Also I am not ‘hopelessly in love’!”

“Infatuated?”

“No!”

“Lovesick?”

“Not a bit!”

“Helplessly inclined on the edge of your seat to hang upon his every little word?”

You didn’t even answer him that time and merely glared at him. 

He nodded pensively, patting a finger against his chin as he murmured, “In denial, interesting...”

“What?!” 

He changed tact. “Do you not know the exact time for your realisation for your deep feelings?”

“Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you,” you sulked, folding your arms crossly. He let out a quiet ‘aww’, which you ignored to the best of your capacity. “What has gotten into you?”

“I’m just trying to work out if you are,” he cleared his throat, “fit for my closest colleague and good friend. After all, we’ve been through so much, I wouldn’t want any harm to come to him—”

There were many things wrong to his wistful, jesting sentence, but there was one thing that you had to refute: “Last week you told Sungjin you would sell Pillie out for half a churro.”

His smart mouth stopped for a few seconds, and you figured briefly that you’d perhaps won and could leave. Alas, you were mistaken.

“Refers to Mr Kim as ‘Pillie’, indicating a very special degree of endearment, interesting...”

You groaned, falling back onto the rest of the mattress, asking the world what you’d done to deserve this.

Truth be told, Jae wasn’t worried for his bandmate or you in the slightest. Hearing your accidental slip of your feelings, everything seemed to come together at once and fit like two missing jigsaw pieces. You both had traits that accentuated the other, and you got along so well. If you two got together, he discerned, there would be few power couples that could compete.

He didn’t understand shipping culture, but this was perhaps his one exception. It just made sense! His soft charms next to your harder ones, your sense next to his sunny optimism, the both of you still sharing much in common.

“Six months,” you suddenly admitted.

“Hmm?”

“My, you do delight in my torment,” you grumbled before shooting him a look that softened as you continued, the memory trickling to the surface and making it impossible for you to not smile. “I’ve liked him for six months. It hit me when he fell asleep on my shoulder on our trip up to Incheon.”

One of those shared things being bouts of shyness.

He decided in that moment that it was time for some divine intervention.

“That’s a long time ago,” he mentioned, “and you haven’t done anything about it?”

“How could I?” you countered, though it was more sad than feisty. “How do I confess to the gentlest, happiest soul? How am I supposed to even know if he likes me back? He’s cuddly with everyone, you know.”

One glance at your crestfallen eyes that shone through your little chuckle lit a spark in his head.

“Don’t you worry, Y/N. God works in mysterious ways,” he reassured, sending you a wink.

And so began the grand unravelling of The Great Jae’s plan. 

Step 1: Establish if the Feelings are Mutual

The first step, as Jae understood it, was crucial—nothing else could be done until he knew if the keyboardist also had a whopping crush on his friend. And they had made some fair points about how hard it would be to calculate whether Wonpil was just being friendly affectionate or more than that.  

So, to get the answer cleanly without collateral, Jae concocted a plan so cunning he could put a tail on it and call it a weasel.

The next day, Jae slipped into the practice room, after locating his whereabouts through a super secret and effective method dubbed as ‘asking Sungjin’. He strode up to the keyboard set where the younger was staring intently at one of the keys, swiftly adopting a confident stance—he would not be swayed by any sneak attacks, and especially not attempted deflections with puppy eyes: a weapon he knew his bandmate was highly proficient in.

Hearing him mumbling about whether they should invent a H note, Jae made the choice to enact Step 1, taking advantage of the possible surprise characteristic.

“Wonpil, do you like Y/N?” 

Peering up with his classic bright smile, Wonpil answered him swiftly, “Yeah!”

Jae frowned, the response seeming too quick. He had to comprehend it as a misunderstanding of his question. He pressed the charge. “Well, yeah, I figured you liked them, but I meant it as in more of a—”

“I know how you meant it, hyung,” he looked back at the keys, testing a C tentatively.

“Oh.” Jae was surprised to say the least. “How did you...?” 

“I’ve been waiting for one of you to ask me,” he explained poutily, “you always seemed to tease me about it when I didn’t have someone, and then as soon as I actually fell, not a peep.” 

Jae had to admit that the entire exchange had caught him off guard, as he became distinctly aware of how slowly the cogs were turning in his head. “You were... waiting?”

He nodded urgently at the sound board, twisting a dial as he held his ear closer to the instrument.

“You know the sound isn’t on right?”

“The key is squeaky.”

“Oh.”

“Of course I was waiting,” Wonpil replied simply, taking a simpering pause, “aren’t you going to ask me?” 

Jae watched as the younger suddenly sat up and swung himself to look at the legs of his keyboard stand, giving them a good wobble. There was no doubt a squeak then.

“Ask what, about what you like about them?” he suggested, not really sure himself. 

“Finally!” The younger threw himself back out from underneath the instrument. “Everything, hyung, I think I’m actually in love! Their laugh, their kindness, their eyes, their jokes—I feel like I’m going to burst whenever I see them, like into just, laughter, I can’t stop smiling, I just want to hug them and kiss their nose...” When he knocked his head back up to him, his smile was even brighter, his cheeks lightly blushed. “Is this what Younghyun-hyung means when he says that love hurts?”

Jae was more than happy to hear proof—it meant Step 1 was a success after all—but hearing the sap did mean he had to hide his grimace.  But now he was presented with a more severe problem, as he knew full well that wasn’t what the bassist, who could dip into the realms of emo territory, meant at all by that phrase.

It didn’t mean he was going to explain it. Especially seeing those eyes brimming with adoration for his closest friend—he cursed at himself giving into the puppy eyes after all. 

“Yeah, probably,” he answered vaguely, opting to change the subject, “well, I’d better be off, thanks!”

“Hey, hyung, where do you think you’re going?” Wonpil called after him as he attempted to make a tactical retreat, having gathered the information he needed. 

Jae turned around, lying through his teeth as his brain searched for an excuse. “I... well, I need to go and do...”

“Without wishing me good luck on fixing my keyboard stand?” he enquired, pouting childishly from the other side of the room.

“Good luck...?”

“Ok, you can go!” he announced, sending a wave. “Bye!”

And with that, Jae exited the practice room, frowning at his reflection in the glass of the window as he passed through. Wonpil was strange sometimes, that was for sure. 

It didn’t matter in the long run though, it was going to be your problem soon rather than his—a thought that elicited a snicker from him—and with Step 1 complete, he could proceed to Step 2. 

Step 2: Create the Confession Arrangement

Jae had figured that the third step would have required the most work, but he had be drastically wrong. He’d presumed coming up with the perfect scenario for a confession would have been easy, but once he’d sat down in the living room to think in peace, an hour later he found himself lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, without a single idea in his head. 

Chasing the tails of all the ideas that taunted him and skipped just out of reach every time in his head, he barely heard the sound of someone else entering the fray.  And he would have continued to have done, had the newcomer not come to stand beside him and peered over his sprawled body.

“Hyung, are you ok?”

The deep voice snapped his eyes from where they were transfixed on the ceiling to the cherubic face of Dowoon, currently in the process of devouring a pretzel.

Jae snorted, still barely comprehending his presence. “Of course.”

The younger tilted his head to see him somewhat the correct way up. “Are you sure? You’re laying on the floor.”

“I am aware, and yes, a hundred percent,” he answered, putting on a confident front as best he could, “this, young padawan, is the sight of a master at work.”

Dowoon hummed in an agreement of sorts, “Oh, right.”  He took a deep bite of the sweet dough. “What are you working on?”

Jae finally recognised the notable rustling of a paper packet, his eyes falling to the treat. “I am devising the most wondrous plan the world has seen to—is that my vanilla pretzel?”

“No.”

He said it so quick and devoid of emotion there was no way to tell whether it was a lie or not. Jae was left peering up at the man as he took another bite, who sent him a thumbs up as a form of endorsement.  “Right. Well... I am devising a plan that will get Wonpil and Y/N to admit their feelings for one another and finally unite as the planet’s best ship and sail off into the distance together!” A victorious grin on his lips, he looked like a man that had already found success. “I have already completed Step 1 with peak success, now I must move to Step 2 and—”

“What was Step 1?”

“Finding out whether their feelings were mutual, of course!” Jae guffawed, surprised that Dowoon could not connect the two dots.

He peered over to him again to see him frowning as he angled himself to take the final bite of the pretzel. Before he could ask what the matter was, he preempted him, stating, “You didn’t know?”

That caught the eldest off guard. “What?”

“You didn’t know that they both like each other?” he glanced towards him, eyes expectant as he shoved the dough past his lips. “I thought everyone knew.”

“Well, I...” Jae coughed, quickly covering his back, “...there’s a difference between assumption and ascertaining proof, maknae. Now that I have evidence I may move onto Step 2.”

“And that is?”

Jae caught the tone of curiosity this time in the intonation of the man’s deep voice, making note to take advantage of it as soon as possible. “Create the confession arrangement. I must make a scenario where the only possible eventuality is that the two confess to one another their true feelings.”

Dowoon nodded, licking his fingertips free of leftover sugar.

“You wanna help?” he enquired, angling his head to get a better view of his band mate’s features, waiting for the smile to arise.

“Sure.” Discarding the paper bag on the coffee table nearby, he lowered himself to the floor, laying on his back and mimicking his elder. 

“Good choice,” Jae clapped, turning his attention back to the ceiling.

“What ideas have you got so far, then?” Dowoon began, drumming his fingers against his stomach as he followed suit.

“Well...” Panic filtered through Jae’s system, as he suddenly realised he didn’t have even the tiniest beginnings of a thread to follow, let alone a part of a suggestion. “We could lock them in a room,” his mouth said before his brain could catch up. He cursed to himself in his head. No, that was stupid. It was so inhumane! 

“What, like an escape room scenario?”

Jae’s head immediately tilted towards the man lying beside him. Yoon Dowoon, as things turned out, was a secret genius. 

Without warning, he laughed, getting to his feet and grabbing the younger by his hand to pull him up after him. “Yes! Exactly like an escape room!” He held him by the shoulders and asked, “Do you have any ideas for any puzzles? Or riddles? Could be an anagram, or a pattern somehow, maybe general knowledge based?”

Dowoon thought long and hard for a moment, and it showed on his face, his dark eyes going wide as his jaw dropped. “No, but I know where to get the keys to the locks on the doors.”

Their eyes met for a good few seconds as Jae mulled over the decision of whether to bring up how he had obtained such knowledge. He finally rationalised he’d ask at another less frantic time. 

“Great!” he exclaimed, before ordering, “You go sort that. I’ll go get some pens and paper. Be quick!”

And so Step 2 was in motion.

Step 3: Organise the Confession Arrangement

“Ok, listen up soldiers,” Jae declared, “because here’s the plan.”

He was stood at the front of the work room beside a board that he’d stolen from the marketing block, proudly displaying a rudimentary plan of the dormitory and accompanied by several haphazard arrows drawn in a dying pen. He overlooked the rest of the room courageously, eyeing up his gang of abductees volunteers, who merely stared at him confusedly in return. 

“Why am I here, again?” Sungjin suddenly enquired, glancing around the room. “This surely is one of those Things-We-Don’t-Tell-Sungjin-About things, right? I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to know about this.”

“But none of us do...!” Jae uttered, rolling his palms to encourage the others to catch onto his meaning. They didn’t. “None of us know about it, yeah? Because none of us did it!”

“But that makes no sense,” Sungjin rationalised immediately, “because someone will have had to have set all the puzzles up?”

Jae didn’t have an answer to that. To both a blessing and a curse, however, he didn’t have to reply to that question. He just got another one in its place.

“I’m sorry, wait, what are we even doing?” Younghyun interjected, glaring at the hastily dictated plan with a curled lip. 

“Getting Wonpil and Y/N together, we’ve been over this, Brian.”

“Surely they can just... do it themselves though, right?” Sungjin countered, squinting at the header of the board. “It really doesn’t require an all-out, multi-step plan—is this Step 3?” 

“Good to see you’re checking the diagram,” Jae retorted.

Younghyun’s voice was incredulous, “How many steps are there?!” 

“Four.” It was Dowoon’s turn to interrupt, it seemed, and he piped up fluidly before Jae could try to regain any control upon the late night board meeting.

“What were steps 1 and 2?!”

“Step 2 was inventing this beautiful idea,” Jae started.

Only for Dowoon to finish, “Step 1 was him working out if Wonpil liked Y/N back.”

It was their turn to eye Jae up in disbelief, a chorus erupting:

“You didn’t know?!”

“How can you’ve not known?!”

“All he does is pine after them...!”

“Alright alright!” Jae called, pleading for the three to settle. To his fortune they did, but most likely only out of the prospective joy of him further making a fool of himself. “The past steps don’t matter, I need your help now to complete Step 3. You will all reap the benefits of Step 4, when this is all a success because—as you said—all Wonpil does is pine after Y/N. This,” he pointed assertively to the diagram, “will put a stop to all that!”

Silence settled over the room as the three all glanced at each other, all nodding in some form in agreement. 

Jae took the chance and continued, his hand laying out the directions on the board as he spoke, “So, all we have to is move Wonpil to Y/N’s room, and set up the puzzles in there. Sungjin, Dowoon, you’re on set-up, Brian you’re on lift duty. It is all objectively simple, but one wrong move could wake either of them up thus exposing the entire ploy and I’ve yet to come up with an excuse so you’ll be on your own.”

“Of course,” Younghyun muttered, not even bothering to look Jae in the eye to convey the sense of how done he was. 

“You’re not helping?” Dowoon piped up, his soft features portraying a slight hue of hurt.

“I can’t, Y/N already expects me. If I’m caught then there’s zero opportunity of a follow up plan—at least one that features me,” Jae explained, ignoring the mumbles of ‘perhaps it would be better that way’ that echoed around the room. He shot a look to the one he suspected the most of being the owner of said grumblings, watching as he leant back in his chair. 

“Can this not at least wait ‘til tomorrow?” Younghyun requested, emphasising his point with a yawn. 

“No! Y/N is out Saturday, and regardless we must strike while the iron is hot!”

This sent the energy of the room from benevolent boredom to startled flurry.

“It’s happening right now?!” The leader desperately looked to the eldest for reassurance that this was most certainly not the case, only to find none.

“Yep,” he stated, a shrug on his shoulders and a smirk on his lips. “Once you’re done, you make sure you leave no trace of yourselves and lock the door. Leave the key on the living room table and then you may return to your own rooms and do what you wish—as long as there is no noise. If their sleep is interrupted, the plan could quickly go south,” he finished with a clap, “now, positions everyone! And good luck!”

With only a few groans, the three practically sprung into action, much to Jae’s surprise. Dowoon piled up the props and prompts riddled with such in his arms, Sungjin holding the door for him and Younghyun who both head out in quick succession. 

“Thank you, Sungjin,” Jae called to the door. He received an expression of many emotions—disdain, disbelief, bemusement—all around a set of very bright eyes. He exhaled abruptly in what was a laugh that demonstrated that mixture, before leaving with the shake of his head.

It was showtime.

You awoke gradually to the sun streaming through the wide gap between the curtains. Groaning, you cursed to yourself about how you’d forgotten to close them the night before.

After admitting that if you wanted to go back to sleep or even just lay in your bed in peace for a bit longer the curtains would have to close, you sat up, only to swear you had shut them the night before.

Rolling out of the covers dozily, you hobbled over to the window, squinting against the light, where upon the curtain tie you found a piece of paper dictating a series of hand-drawn triangles in shades of pink, grey and white. Rubbing your eyes you tried to detach it, only to find it secured with string. 

Feeling confusion flush through your bones as quickly as the sleep left them, you looked across the room to see another sheet of thin card this time, roughly torn at the corner and branded with a giant, rounded, crimson splodge adorned with a malformed triangle of green. 

Both thoughtless and speechless in entirety, your eyes frantically searched the room for further signs of intrusion. To your disturbance you found your room littered with rudimentary placards, decorated with strange arrows directing to one another, or strange looped calligraphy. One was stuck crudely to a Star Wars shopping bag, and as much as you enjoyed The Rise of Skywalker, you definitely did not have a bag for it. Another was blatantly an anagram. Making the mistake of looking up you were confronted with a gigantic poster of a film with the title and cast heading covered by MS Paint swirls. The image depicted seemed familiar, but it didn’t make their staring faces any less intimidating as they glared at you from your ceiling.  It was as if you’d walked into a nightmare that was haunted by puzzless.

“What the actual, ever loving f—” Your voice cut off as soon as your gaze finally rested back upon your bed. Only to find someone else in it. 

Thoroughly creeped out, your brain ricocheting through thoughts and questions like they were caught in a hurricane—who is that, how long have they been there, they were sleeping right next to me, they snuck into my room, is it a sasaeng, did they do anything—you were ready to charge towards the door and yell your lungs out for help.

Until the figure shifted in their sleep, their arms thrown up cutely by their head which peaked out from behind the duvet. It was Wonpil.

Breath catching in your throat, your hand clasped itself to your mouth in an effort to not shriek in surprise more than anything. 

You’d shared your bed with Wonpil. He’d been right beside you, his beautiful face just inches from yours, sleeping peacefully with his hands sweetly gripping the covers and his adorable little snores—

Your heart lurched at the image your mind conjured, for it to then crash over the fact that he had the audacity to sneak into your room.  The conundrum before you left you in turmoil—you couldn’t believe that you’d fallen so hard for a man who would break into your room in the middle of the night and disregard your privacy so blazonly. 

It didn’t make any sense. You’d known Wonpil for a while, and he showed so much respect the entirety of that time. Yes, he was clingy, but you could think of multiple occasions where you had told him to back off and give you space, because you were stressed or angry with someone else or even just too hot to let him lay on your shoulder, and every time he did. You couldn’t think of a single time when he came into your room without knocking either. 

But was that enough to discount the ‘first time for everything’ rule?

Given the circumstances, perhaps it was.

Regarding the mess of your room again, it was plausible that Wonpil could have put up some of the weird pieces of card, but he couldn’t have done it all—not without help at least. Taking in the height of your ceiling, he was too short to reach it. Had someone stood on your bed you would have woken up, there was no doubt about it, and you didn’t have a desk in your room, so there was no chairs to stand on. The nearest ones were in the others’ rooms, but it seemed too far of a stretch—especially since you knew that there was one person that could reach.

Jae.

You glared in disdain at the corner of your room as if you were on The Office, until you remembered that you weren’t alone in the room. 

Taking a deep breath you silently made your way across your rug to the side of your bed. Kneeling in the soft cotton you took in the sight of Wonpil closer this time, resisting the urge to stroke his soft cheek that he’d puffed out as he pouted in his sleep. Perhaps it wouldn’t be long before he woke. 

“This wasn’t you, was it,” you murmured to him, taking gentle delight in how he wriggled towards you in his sleep at the distant sound of your voice. He looked so sweet, and the concept of being able to wake up to him beside you every morning made heat rush to your cheeks like a tsunami. 

He was so good at making you smile, he could do it without even trying. The thought reminded you of when he had gone out of his way to somewhat try to, making you his chosen target for the only ‘prank’ he’d ever performed. He’d decided that he would for his prank debut place  tiny plastic dinosaurs around the place for you to run into. You’d been bemused, but only for a day, quickly finding him out after catching him placing one in the fridge. 

It was fortunate that you’d been reminded of the memory—even if you were primarily focused on how angelically he’d giggled a threadbare excuse that neither of you believed for a second but only made you fall in love further—as it that had been a while ago, and filling your room with strange and distastefully carried out puzzles was not what you figured his prank comeback would be. He would at the very least make them look nice. 

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” you whispered, tucking the blanket further to his chin to keep him warm before getting to your feet again. You had to admit, you got a bit of a rush out of playing detective, and with a theory hot on your mind, you knew it wouldn’t be long before you found evidence that proved it.

First you checked the door it discover it locked as you had expected. Then you moved to the puzzles.  Staring intently at the placards, you found that they all pointed to someone who was either awful at editing and drawing alike, or had simply done it in haste and didn’t care for the visual outcome. However this was not as concrete as you’d imagined. You definitely couldn’t see it being anyone other than Jae but after checking several puzzles and not seeing a single bad joke or reference in sight, you were beginning to doubt your first impressions.

Hearing the bed creak and a groggy whine muffled by a yawn, you flicked your head away from your wardrobe. There you found Wonpil sat up in a nest of your duvets at his waist, with dishevelled hazel tresses endowing him with faux cat ears or sorts. He was barely awake and hardly functioning, blinking lethargically while he slowly returned to the world of the living.

“Morning,” you greeted with a stutter, clearing your throat sheepishly straight after.

His lips spread cutely into a grin. “Morning...!” he sang. 

It took several minutes of you trying to maintain your gaze on the messy art piece that was sleepy Wonpil, before giving up and disappointedly returning to the barely-legible riddle in your hands, for the man to finally speak with up with a frown.

“Wait, why are you in my room?” he enquired, rubbing his nose. “Did you sneak in...?”

“Actually you’re in mine,” you corrected, squinting at the calligraphy so as to let him come to terms with the situation.

His eyes opened in a flash, glancing around the room in astonishment. “Oh my god why am—I’m in yours?!” He gushed with apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t sneak in I promise, I don’t remember coming in here! I don’t understand... did I sleepwalk...?”

“If you did it would be a first,” you stated, chucking the paper to the bin near your closet and staggering to your feet, “it’s ok, Pil, I’m not mad. Besides, I think you were carried.”

“Carried?”

“You always were a heavy sleeper. But that does mean that Younghyun or Dowoon are in on this, which means I don’t understand what this whole thing is,” you explained, glancing up at the ceiling and sighing exasperatedly, “do you recognise that movie?”

Following your line of sight, he jumped at the sudden pair of eyes that he found staring at him. He shook his head. “N-no. Y/N... what’s going on?”

“Apparently the guys decided that for their latest prank they were going to make an escape room of sorts, and then stuck you in here with me for double the fun.”

“But why?”

You shrugged. “I guess they’ll open the door if we figure out all the puzzles of something. Problem is these puzzles are like, stupidly hard.” You pointed over to his right. “Like, why is there a mutant tomato on my wall?”

“Ew,” Wonpil said with a grimace as he beheld the visage of the red splodge. 

“I know right. Whichever one of the did it should never consider art school. Like, ever.”

Silence fell over the two of you as your eyebrows knit together, once again thinking over the possible answers to any of the dozens of puzzles. Wonpil meanwhile slipped out of your blankets and headed towards the door.

You had half a mind to call out to him and say it was locked, but you figured he’d already worked that out, so instead you watched him out of curiosity. 

He came to the door with a stop, rattled on the door handle once, then twice, before pressing his face close to the wood. “Sungjin!” he wailed, before pressing his ear to it to listen.

For several moments there was complete utter quiet over the room and the dorm outside. The only sound that could be heard was the birds outside, and even they broke into quiet when they heard an unusual absence of chatter. 

Then out of the blue Wonpil stiffened in his place, before leaning in even further, his features alert. 

After a few seconds you enquired mimicking the quiet, “What is it?”

“I think I just heard someone tell Sungjin that he ‘needed to remain strong’,” Wonpil looked at you quizzically, “what does that mean?”

“Sungjin’s in on it too?” You were hugely surprised by that, so much so that you couldn’t hide it in your voice, the volume tipping out of the realms of a murmur. You’d thought it was a certainty that Sungjin was not aware of what was going on, because he was too mature to play along. But you’d clearly gotten him wrong this time around.  “Th-that must mean this is serious,” you continued, slipping into a slow pacing motion across to the window and back, “that it’s super funny, or that he goes to seriously gain something from this.”

“But how is this funny, I’m not laughing...!” Wonpil said with a pout audible on his lips. He wondered if there was a funnier side that he was missing out on due to his concern for you overpowering it. He didn’t like how you stepped back and forth, even if it was only slow and steady and hardly impulsive. He didn’t want you to be stressed, he wanted you to be happy.  It dawned on him that it was becoming increasingly harder for him to hold himself back from meeting you part-way and bring you to a stop, his hands brushing your shoulders and squeezing them gently in reassurance as he met your eyes— He shook his head, sending him hurtling out of his imagination just in time to hear you agree.

“Exactly, unless he wrote some of the riddles and his sense of humour was not what I thought it was—what we thought it was.”

“But Sungjin would never use stuff this bad!” he cried, hand motioning to the poorly executed diagrams while his eyes trailed away from you and onto the tomato on the wall. “He would be much more careful than... that—I don’t think he ever could make something that ugly!”

“Exactly!” you echoed his tone of urgency. “Which means he stands to gain! But what the hell does he get out of locking two people in a room with a bunch of evil puzzles?”

Watching your form become gradually tenser by the second, Wonpil’s resolve against his desires loosened before unravelling entirely.

He strode unusually powerfully across the floor, his body blocking you and your pacing in your tracks. His proximity startled you, but as his hands came to gently held your shoulders you realised how tense your body had accidentally become.  Taking a deep breath as best you could with the biggest crush you’d ever had standing right in front of you, you slowly began to calm down. It was just a stupid prank, there was really no reason to get worked up to that extent, or anywhere near it. 

Your thoughts drifted from the circumstances you were currently trapped in however, supplanted by the feel of Wonpil’s touch, and the way his eyes met yours. His eyes were so pretty you felt yourself sink head over heels in them whenever you accidentally made contact. And the emotion that filled them to the brim at that moment and let them glimmer even more than normal in the radiant sunlight caught you even further off guard. You’d seen it a lot, even in large doses, and how it made him look even softer, even more adorable, made you almost spill words from between your lips. However like this, you could barely handle it. 

“Sorry,” you said, willing your voice to remain stable unlike your heartbeat.

“No, don’t be sorry! We’ll get...” It felt like he didn’t want to end his sentence but forced himself to. “So, they’re all in on this?”

His hands fell away from you, just as you looked away from him, unable to catch your breath otherwise. As it turned out it was a lucky move at the right moment. “Yeah, it seems so. N-now why? That’s the question. I don’t know, but what I do know is—”

Having pulled away, you’d begun to walk back to the door, thinking up the words to perhaps call out and talk them into freeing the two of you. Though as you did, your peripheral caught the odd transformation your closet door had done.

After performing a ridiculously overplayed doubletake that would have appeared to any onlookers out of context as fake, you noticed that there was a nearly full-sized image of a deep chestnut archway with the poor illusion (due to the angle) of a small opening inside. Drawing nearer you were able to make out a speckled grate suspended in the right wall of the wooden box.

What the image printed over three sheets of paper was sprung to your head immediately, much alike the jigsaw pieces jumbled in your head slotted together. 

It was a confession chamber. 

You had to confess, but not to a priest.  To Wonpil.

“God works in mysterious ways...” you remembered from the previous day, uttering the words as you replayed them in your mind. “Jae, you shit.”

Wonpil came to your side, peering round to take in your features, searching for an explanation in the sheer beauty he always found there. “What’s wrong?”

“I know how to open the door!” you announced proudly, the sense of victory washing away as you came face to face with what you had to do however. 

Wonpil’s characteristic sunny smile rose to his cheeks, all while you sat there barely able to stomach your anxiety. “Yay! What do we have to do?”

You didn’t know how to go about it. You didn’t know whether to tell him, to ramble, to keep it simple, or to just kiss him like you wanted to for however long it had been. “Confess,” was all that tumbled from your mouth, and you immediately regretted speaking at all.

The subject of your affections stood as silently as you did before him. You could see the rush of thoughts in his head, his cheeks flushing as he finally spoke up, “Confess our... sins?”

“Not sins, no...”

It was at that moment you realised your feelings were mutual. He wouldn’t look you in the eye like he always did, he was skipping over the obvious conclusion,and he wasn’t drastically denying a single thing. He didn’t run, nor hide, in fact he leant towards you. It was only a fraction of an angle, but with a small bite of his lip the air fled your lungs.

“Do you...” you breathed, taking a tiniest step towards him—you’d been so close already, but now he was practically against you, just not quite—as your fingers twitched at your sides, “do you want me to do it?”

His nod was strong compared to his voice which was so delicate, as if he couldn’t believe what was unfurling before him. “Please!” 

With his encouragement you let those ready fingers ease up to the edge of his jaw, gracing the fine stubble there as you sank you palms against his cheeks and held your dreams in your hands. “Wonpil, I’ve liked you for so long... I fell for you, more than anyone I’ve ever met before. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Don’t say sorry, I didn’t tell you either,” he reminded with a chuckle, his dark eyes bright and shining and wide at you coming ever closer, “and not being near you makes my heart ache so please, just kiss me and make it stop forever.”

You didn’t have to be asked twice.

His hands barely had enough time to snake around your neck as you bridged the gap and let your lips meet at last. And it was like the whole world sighed in relief. 

His lips were so warm, the softness etched with all his thoughts and his moments of anxiety and sadness. You wanted to kiss them all away, so that the only ones remained were the ones out of happiness, out of his smiles and playfulness. 

It had been so long since you’d began dreaming of this moment, and now it was at last happening you never wanted it to end. But it had to end, and though you felt more than ready to deepen it, there was a click from the door behind you. 

Springing away from each other in surprise, you immediately both looked over to the origin of the sound, your hands meeting in place of your lips.

“It worked?” Wonpil asked the air more so than you, his free fingers extending to the handle tentatively. 

You drew to him, letting go of his hand to place your own on his shoulders a you peered over them. “I think it did!”

Taking a quick glance at you, he twisted the brass and pulled gently, his jaw dropping as a gap formed.

You were free. Though a small part of you was disappointed, probably completely interested in staying in close proximity to your crush without disturbances for as long as possible.

Except he was no longer your crush! Your heart lurched as the awareness dawned on you. Completely disregarding the situation, you mumbled so only he could hear, “Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?”

Wonpil turned his attention back to you, giggling as he stroked your hair. “Of course dummy. Did I not convince you?” He squished your cheek. “We can do it again if it’ll help!”

You had to laugh, wanting to roll with his suggestion entirely, though seeing a shadow approach through the gap in the doorway you had to turn the offer down for now. “Real soon I promise!” After noting his pout that very nearly overwrote your decision in one fell swoop, you continued, “Not when the person who organised this is right outside.”

Your boyfriend threw his head over his shoulder to see a head duck out of sight. You watched as his eyes swept the room before falling intently on the bed—more specifically, the pillows. “Do you want revenge?”

Catching onto his idea and grinning at how childish and petty it would be—in context that the plan had actually worked—you didn’t hesitate, wanting to get a piece of that ‘divine intervention’ that had thrown your morning into disarray when he could have at least warned you.  Besides, it wasn’t like you could turn down a man so precious twice. It would be akin to heresy.

Grabbing both pillows you handed one to Wonpil and came to a halt by the ajar door. “Remember, play dirty when it comes to Jae. He deserves it.”

Sporting his characteristic sunny smile, your boyfriend let out what you had to discern was a cackle as he slipped through the door and led the charge. “You don’t have to tell me.”

A thwack resounded through the dorms from just outside your door and you had to stifle a laugh at the scream that followed.

Perhaps Wonpil didn’t need your help as you had admittedly first expected. 

But where was the fun in that.  

“I’m telling you we could’ve put the movie on the side of her wardrobe!” 

“And I’m telling you it wouldn’t have fit!”

“...You’re never lifting me again.”

You gathered your breath after your surprise revenge assault, sending Dowoon and Sungjin an incredulous look as you passed. Clearly not all your deductions had been correct. Oh well, things had still played out correctly, and catching sight of Younghyun bringing your boyfriend into a side hug as he gushed about how you managed to save them both—clearly playing up the drama but hey, who were you to stop him, you had no qualms with being a knight in shining armour—made a proud blush rise to your cheeks.

Coming further into the living room, you intercepted Jae who had returned from your room after clearing everything up all by himself as you’d ordered.

“I still have no idea why you made me do all that!” he protested as soon as he caught your eye. “This had nothing to do with me! It was, hundred percent, Dowoon. Just Dowoon. He got sick and tired of your pining and...”

You folded your arms, expression proving just how much you didn’t believe his bullshit. 

“You don’t believe me!” he exclaimed, hands flapping. “What have I done to deserve this! Am I not a good friend? Loyal? Like a brother—”

You sighed, shaking your head as you walked over to him, before slipping your arms quickly around his chest. He was startled by the sudden display of affection, but hugged you back nevertheless. “Of course I don’t,” you chuckled, “but we wouldn’t be friends if I did.”

He scoffed at your words, but tightened his arms around you with a smile. He couldn’t have felt prouder in that moment, especially with Younghyun being dragged by Wonpil out of the room [to head out and fetch groceries?] who was delightedly babbling about how soft his best friend felt to cuddle with for real this time. Sungjin meanwhile rolled his eyes at the exchange, padding away and back to the kitchen. 

“Ok this means I can ask what made you work it out.”

You sputtered, though immediately gave in. “The confession chamber on the closet.”

“Ahh that was a good one,” he sighed happily, only to change tact soon after as the realisation sunk in, “wait that wasn’t even mine!” You laughed against him, you head tipping back as he searched the room for the true culprit. “Dowoon was that yours?”

You didn’t hear an answer, though hearing the curse that fell from Jae’s mouth offered enough indication to know that the response was in some shape or form affirmative. 

Laughter bubbling away into the air, you slowly pulled yourself away from the friend that had practically become an older brother to you. He let you go smoothly, but before you parted from him fully, you stood on your toes and whispered, “Thank you,” a smile on your face that was almost as bright as the ones Wonpil always received.

He sent you a grin, followed by a wink, as you followed after your new boyfriend. Leaning so he could see round the corner, he laughed quietly at how you subtly shoved the other man out of the way so you could take Wonpil’s side. 

His heart swelled as your hands naturally found each other’s, linking as if you’d been together for years. It came with a side of a dull ache, as that was what he wanted for himself too.

He wasn’t dismayed for long however. You now owed him after all, and you were well aware of it.

He couldn’t wait to see what you’d come up with. 

~~~

AN: no one can stop me from referencing my own work lmao

also a blackadder reference for anyone who knows!

also in germany there is actually an H note apparently so... fun fact.

Masterlist

[asocier]

( private verse: your name is ) -- three.

          i hear she personally knows the duke.

          her? how did that happen? she’s not even from this district.

          i dont know, but someone saw them talking. said it looked like they were old friends having a chat.

          what did they talk about? 

         who knows? they got the hell out of there before they were caught eavesdropping. 

         haha -- probably for the best. hm, do you think..? 

         think what?

          that they’re gonna go easy on her? 

          gossip. teenagers loved their gossip, didn’t they? the ones she’s met so far during her training were certainly no different. reminiscent of how peers her age acted in school, they traveled in packs, forming tight knit cliques that were impenetrable from the outside unless you somehow proved yourself worthy of an invitation into the group. everyone seemed to be familiar with each other already, a fact alison learned was due to how long they had known each other before her abrupt arrival to the district. from what she understood, some had been training since they were young; others had only been training only for a handful of years. regardless, at this point in their careers, they had all proven themselves to be capable, and it was time for new recruits to do the same.

           new additions weren’t unusual when it came time for recruitment, though it was expected for many to be weeded out in a few months time. judging by the snickers from the others when she first stood alongside them and introduced herself, perhaps they thought she’d be packing her bags very soon. at sixteen, she was amongst the youngest in this round of new recruits, and her small statue coupled with her inexperience seemed to have branded her as an easy target for returning guards-in-training who had a better understanding of what was expected from the veteran rose guards they trained under. 

          but oh, how she was going to prove them all wrong. 

          “wow! imagine being handed something instead of working for it. hm, can’t say that i can relate, actually.” finally turning the corner of the hallway she had been waiting behind, alison makes her presence known to two peers. thinking back on the many introductions she had heard earlier in the week, she could recall that these two came from a long line of rose guards, a notable number of their family members having served various nobles over the course of their lifetimes. it was unclear to her as to whether their training had started early on in their lives, only to culminate in their eventual recruitment into the rose guard after finishing school, or if this was just the beginning of their training. regardless, she wouldn’t be surprised if their connection to their families had aided them in completing their first year of training. 

          startled and indignant by alison’s unexpected appearance, the taller of the two retorted, “didn’t anyone teach you it was rude to eavesdrop?” 

         “didn’t anyone teach you it was rude to talk shit?” an easy comeback as she joined them.

          sucking on his teeth, he turns to his companion, a girl whom alison recalled was quite open about her admiration of the duke and his charms. unsurprising, yet still disappointing, alison thought as she fought back the urge to roll her eyes at the idea of someone joining ayden’s rose guard just to get close to him and vie for his attention. it was a waste of everyone’s time, and it made alison wonder just how much the other relied on her family to get her this far. surely, she wasn’t as hopeless as alison feared if she was able to last this long, but only time would tell, she supposed.

          “how long were you standing there?” with a frown, the other woman expressed her own disapproval of alison’s decision to eavesdrop, though alison was quite certain she was just upset that she had been caught. 

           “long enough to know you’re jealous about my relationship with the duke.” a jab at what everyone was aware of already, a rather smug smile evident on alison’s countenance as she reveled in how the other woman’s brows furrowed deeper. “if it’s any consolation, we’re merely acquaintances.” a partial truth -- time had caused them to drift apart, and it was clear to alison that ayden was no longer the person he was in their childhood. it’d be foolish of her to considering them close friends at this point when so much had changed in the roughly ten years that had passed since their last meeting, though it was comforting to know that he still remembered her. despite that, alison had no intentions of relying on him when it came to securing her place on his rose guard; that was a decision she had made long before she arrived in his district.

          “but how is that possible? you said yourself you graduated from commoner school.”

          “because i did. but how i know the duke is quite frankly none of your business. i suggest you two pay attention to more pressing matters,” and she turns to the taller one, her expression neutral despite the fact she was annoyed by how he had to look down at her to make eye contact, “like how your form is sloppy and quite frankly, makes me question whether you deserve to be called my superior. falling on your ass today really must have been a hit to your ego, huh?” 

         “why i -- ! who are you to judge? like you know what it’s like to be in the rose guard.”

          “i didn’t fall on my ass today, did i?”

          “you don’t have any training under your belt. they were going easy on you because they know you’re a rookie.”

          “says who? who said i don’t have training? not me. i said i didn’t have much formal training.” 

          “what the hell does that mean?”

          with a smile, she merely states: 

          “it means i’m a rogue.” 

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

           that was an illegal move, who the fuck does she think she is? 

           are there really any rules when it comes to this kind of stuff, though?

           who the fuck pulls out a real knife out during sword training? for god’s sake, she shouldn’t even have had that on her person!

          well, at least they stepped in before she could cut you. 

           if anyone asked, she’d give them an answer: no. no, she absolutely did not regret any moment of it. it was their own fault for thinking she was bluffing when her conversation with those two in the hallway was shared around to the various cliques. 

           a rogue? how funny! talking right out of her ass, isn’t she? 

           if they didn’t pay attention to her before, they surely were going to now. previously passed off as an easy target, “nathalie” was starting to earn quite the reputation for herself. it was already surprising to many that she had lasted as long as she did; while many were sent back home for failing to keep up with the rigorous training dictated by the veterans, alison continued to steadily hold onto her position. this alone seemed to have started the shift in attitude amongst her peers, and their opinions only continued to change the more they watched her fight. this latest match seemed to have pushed everyone over the edge. 

            “imagine being so reckless! imagine being so dishonorable! i can’t imagine a noble wanting someone like that on their guard. not only are they a danger, but it ruins the reputation of the guard as a whole.” murmurs of agreement could be heard in response to the one who sounded so exasperated, and there was no effort to hide his anger towards alison. a sore loser, she thought as she stood off to the distance, a bottle of water in hand as she attempted to catch her breath. she had received a rather nasty admonishing post-match, though, she couldn’t help but notice a bit of praise for her quick thinking that underlaid all of the scolding. perhaps that was just her ego interpreting it as such, but she certainly wasn’t going to pass up on any praise. that was something she’d keep to herself, however, for the sake of not adding fuel to the fire ( for now, at least ). 

          “if she keeps at it like this, i wouldn’t be surprised if she got sent home for her behavior in these next upcoming weeks. absolutely unacceptable -- a rogue in the rose guard? whoever heard of such a thing? brutish, impulsive, crude -- a disgrace to the image of the rose guard.”

           “are you done shouting from your soapbox? i’m sure your followers understand how much you hate me already.” her voice had interrupted his endless ranting, and her tone was indicative of how unfazed she was by the complaints directed towards her. she cared very little for the opinions of others; only a handful of opinions mattered, and those of this man were not on her list. “if you’re that upset, you could try taking it up through the ranks until you speak with the duke himself. though, i’m sure he has better things to do than to listen to a resentful trainee.”

          “tch -- don’t sound so brash. you know damn well you’re getting some kind of special treatment. you would have been out of here long ago for your blatant disrespect otherwise.”

          “having a pleasant attitude the duke can appreciate is not special treatment. i just don’t have a stick up my ass like you do. funny --  i’d think that stick would help you hold your own weight, but i guess it just makes you insufferable.” 

          “you little bitch --!” 

          “oho, and now you’ve stooped down to name-calling. very mature of you, very respectful.” with arms crossed over her chest, she looks amused rather than intimidated as her peer crosses towards her, his form stopping in front of her own. 

          “i give respect to those who deserve it. and quite frankly, nathalie, you don’t. you don’t deserve my respect, nor do you deserve your current standing in this guard. you’ve weaseled your way this far, but it’s only a matter of time before someone cuts you down to size.”

          looking up, her features remain at ease as she listened to the vitriol being spat at her. “in due time, perhaps. but that person won’t be you.” 

          “and what makes you so sure of it?”

          “because your form is still, to this day, atrocious.” 

          “as if yours is really any better.” 

          and in a beat, she found herself with her back to the earth, the wind knocked out of her upon sudden impact. with a sheathed sword in his hand, the other had managed to swipe her off her feet, knocking her backwards onto the ground. wide-eyed, alison looks up at the sky above her, and the faces of her peers slowly come into view as their laughter ring in the air. his face came into view right above her field of vision, is gaze directed downwards at her. “you’re always so full of talk, nathalie. speaking as if you know better than the rest of us. you fight like a school child, like the class bully. that won’t get you far in the rose guard.”

         somehow, him getting in the last word before they were called back to attention for the rest of their training was more irritating to her than what was actually said to her. being able to see that smug grin on his face from above struck a nerve in her, and the tittering laughter of the others only added salt to the wound.

         if i count to ten, i could calm down, and then make my way back. if i count to ten, i could turn the other cheek and be the mature one in this situation. if i count to ten ... i’ll let him win.

          fuck that. 

          with the group’s backs turned to her, they don’t realize she’s back on her feet until it’s too late, until the one who criticized her is suddenly yanked backwards and separated from the group. a yelp of pain accompanies his departure, and it’s only then do the others realize that it’s nathalie who has dragged him away by the hair, it’s nathalie who has thrown him down onto the earth, and it’s nathalie who is currently standing over him, her hand on the hilt of the sword at her hip. 

          “y-you can’t draw that! you know we’re not allowed to draw swords outside of matches. you do that, and that’s another strike against you.” his words are rushed in a panic, though it’s clear from the expression on his face that he knows he has a point. she had to acquiesce -- he did have a point. it was a rule that was drilled into each and every one one of them since the first day, and its purpose was to maintain order and safety, especially amongst new recruits. despite knowing this, she finds herself unsheathing the thin blade of her sword anyway, the tip directed at the other’s neck. 

          “i’ll take my strikes. nothing i can’t talk my way out of. after all, you brought this onto yourself.” the blade moves closer to the other’s neck then, the tip resting just above skin. her touch is light, and she truly has no intention to pierce, but considering her unpredictable nature, she knew there would be doubts to her mercy. the fear was evident in his eyes, and the way the air stood still as everyone held their breath was indulgent.

         “you say i fight like a school child, but if you haven’t noticed, that actually has gotten me quite far. your honorable fighting? limited.” a foot raises and rests on the other’s chest then, her grip on her sword never faltering, her gaze never wavering. “honor in topaxi is dying. there is no more honor; anything honorable now is a facade to uphold an image. topaxi fights to gain, to take, to thrive -- there is no fairness. there is no courtesy. so why should i be courteous to those who look down on me?” and she allows just a bit of her weight to be pushed down onto the other’s chest. at this point, she notices that they are alone, the rest of the group having left to resume training. out of the corner of her eye, she can see someone watching them, one of the veterans, no doubt. perhaps they had already yelled at her to drop her weapon. she couldn’t recall; she had turned out the rest of the world for some time. 

          “i fight to survive. i fight to win. i intend to give my all, even if it means stooping low and playing dirty. if that’s how our city fights, then that’s how i’ll fight. why should i play nice?” finally, after what seemed like ages, she withdraws her sword and returns it to its sheath. the figure she had noticed watching made their move then and motioned for her to come with them. with a mischievous smile, she called out to her peer as she walked away from him accompanied by the guard. 

          “take notes for me, yeah? it seems like i’m in for another time out for a while.” 

[nightmare-circus]

Serica | Reaction 4/4 | Ode to…

When: Second motive, when their surroundings were not these ephemeral islands but a quiet village. In the midst of suffocating fear, after she had committed to holing up in her room, before he had come to stay with her.

Where: On their mirrors. Due to aforementioned self-isolation.

Who: One conspiracy theorist, one nurse. Just friends, for now.

What:

( > seriously though i dont want to find you dead )

> then don’t go looking

( > how could i not? )

Why:

IX. Yamamoto, Deacon

Was it her fault, for trying to make concrete plans for the future?

( “Deacon Yamamoto, I will do everything in my power to make sure you and I can leave here, that I will find you and bring you home and we’ll spend days just sitting on the couch watching terrible sitcoms, riding on the subway gossiping about tourists, walking through the park hand in hand…“ )

No, that was stupid. 

Serica may have been a woman who believed in more than the average person, trusted in platitudes and jinxes where others would scoff, but even in the midst of the unthinkable she was dimly aware this wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t his fault. It was…. someone else. Someone else’s fault.

A someone else who she needed to find. But, she found herself once again incapable of meaningfully investigating. Not this time for exaggerated pain and weakness, but of a pure inability to move forward both physically and psychologically.

She’s done this before. She had just forced herself to shallowly rationalize and pack away the deaths of Miles, Juniper, Tatsuya, Elise. One more couldn’t be bad. She was great at compartmentalization wasn’t she? She was able to laugh and have drinks hours after poisoning a man, she was able to pretend to be a victim when only half an hour before she had killed one Danny Ostergard with her two hands. If she approached this from a distance, with the veneer of a woman who had nothing to do with the dead man before her, with the objectivity of a woman who simply was trying to figure out what was going on… she could do this, right?

Let’s begin.

How does she even begin to explain Deacon Yamamoto?

(Ah… he’d probably like that reference, wouldn’t he?)

u/BoysBBUGS ||  u/aviary23

Head mod of Fanatical Ravings of the Disappeared, he(?) had a lot of theories that she didn’t necessarily subscribe to, but saw his contributions interesting to pick at. Ships passing through the night on the world wide web ocean.

IX. The Hermit || XI. Justice

A neighbor of a neighbor, though she hadn’t seen him around much. Does he keep to himself? Why the mask?

Cockroach & Serica

A riot of a man, able to make her laugh to hysterics at their first meeting. Supposedly 32 years old, supposedly unable to bath for fear of chemicals, supposedly with child with a man he had just met. Willing to have himself come off as incredibly unreasonable in public. Despite all this, clearly intelligent, clearly possessed a mind that had a voracious appetite for information and was wonderful to bounce theories on. An asset, despite it all.

( “I’m Serica by the way!” )

[…]

“They gave me the name Cockroach. Fucking COCKROACH Ser. What kinda joke is this shit?”

“I have a dumb fucking gift and Cockroach might as well be my real name since I doubt I’ll ever hear my original one ever again.”

Roach & Riccy

Slippery in every way, but not so unreasonable as he seemed. Logic was a great way to combat him, and any answer often had to be weaseled with either heavy theorizing (her specialty) or with a tango with some off the cuff roleplaying (decidedly not her specialty). She wouldn’t be so cocky to say that he changed his habits for her but… she thinks she had a hand in convincing him. He really wasn’t so bad, if you gave him a chance, and he’d surprised her more than once with acts of care and thoughtfulness.

Dee & ██

A friend for sure, and one who seemed to have a genuine loyalty. No qualms at seeing her drop a stun gun in front of him, no reservations when she admitted tentatively that she slept with a knife, no judgements when she casually brought up murder once more. Morals in the traditional sense didn’t seem to shackle him, which was very convenient to incorporating him into her tentative plans. 26, not 32. A New Yorker, as well though rather than any borough, his car was his home. Given his life he had become a stranger to hugs, to positive affection, but once he had a taste he was hungry for more. For all his mock lovers and public swooning, he was dense to actual subtle flirting.

( “My middle name. Aka, no risk of harming me if a faelien hears it. ██.” )

“I don’t have a middle name. I’d tell you if I did, swear. You can call me Dee though. It’s a part of my first name and you already know the first letter of it when I fucked up that one time. So Dee is a pretty good substitute then, yeah?”

Deacon & ███

Incredibly cute. A true newcomer to being hit on, to being told he’s handsome, to being kissed, to being in a relationship. A strong backbone even as she herself wavered in the days leading up to the decisive moment. Determined, stating possibilities as if they were facts and refusing to acknowledge her agonizing over the worst case scenario. Through everything, an unwavering support, a hand on her back, a shoulder to lean on. A good singer of lullabies, in her opinion.

( “███. My name is ███.” )

“Deacon.”

Deacon Yamamoto & ███ ██ █

Did not hold himself in the same concern he showed her. Makes a fuss in the public chat about the wrongs done to him but brushes off the severity when questioned by his own girlfriend. Still a liar, still a master of faking a smile. 

( “I won’t remember much but i’ll know your name, your, that you helped me so much in escaping that, that you mean the World to me–” she’s just babbling “I probably will believe myself if, if I actually try to find your information or maybe your drivers license– maybe if I put you in as a missing person or– But oh no will you believe me? What if I just show up at your car and you just think I’m a scam artist or–” )

“My license plate is HGO789. Deacon Yamamoto. I’ll believe you. I’ll always believe you.”

( “…█. My last name is… █.” )

███ ██ █

There once was a man upon whom was foisted a change. Upon his rise to a breathing dream, he was stripped of his taste and stripped of subsequent limits. Immune not only to the aches of poison but the salve of saccharin, the burn of capsaicin. To match with his steel stomach was his mercurial tongue, not gifted but cultivated carefully. Silvery and poisonous with every other word, it was at the command of a mind that paralleled in fluidity. It was as if he was a maestro, and his instrument of choice was a dictionary, phrases and scenarios slung with such rapidity that all who listened were on guard for constant whiplash.

So, it meant something when words became actions.

Anyone can say anything. He especially was able to say anything, a master class perjurer of the highest degree. The sun was about to peek through the sky at any moment, he was a Staten Island woman in an unhappy marriage trying to hook up her hair dresser with her son, he was fine, he was going to be okay, he was going to get out of here–

…

There is a difference, between telling someone that you will take consideration for the situation, and spending precious currency to fit yourself with a weapon.

There is a difference, between telling someone that you will help them, protect them, and taking the extra mile to pull down the mattress of a woman who’s waking hell of a gift would not let her climb up the steps otherwise.

There is a difference, between telling someone that you want them to live and helping them plan and execute the death of another person.

There is a difference, between telling someone that you want to live and…

…

(She was failing miserably in this task).

…

No one who looked at his body, at the stagnant ichor dripping out of his head, could understand the potential for warmth like she would. His fingers combing through her hair, pulling out loose tangles and tucking locks behind her ear so she could look at him unfettered. A grin, not sharp and pulled taught, but gently reassuring, murmuring soothing phrases to ease her anxious hands. Irises, bright not with the promise of information to unravel but with unbridled emotion that made his eyes crinkle, a devoted gaze meant for one.

One person, who stood here alone.

“And it’s not like I need it, yanno? I kinda wasted my life away before all of this. Not sure if I want it back.”

"I won’t die. Not yet at least. I have some things that need getting done." 

“I mean I’m not gonna let myself die after I break a leg like some racehorse. I wanna be useful, not a damn trigger happy martyr. ” He had snorted. “I’ll still make a valiant effort to get out of here Rics. But if it comes down to me and you? Well.” He had shrugged. “As a consolation prize I will say, you do make me wanna become someone worth living again.”

"I was impliiiied my dear, of course I’m making it out of here with you. What would the point be otherwise. I was trying to make it seem all badass and broody, adding a technicality to it all would’ve been underwhelming.”

“You’re going to be stuck with me until the end of times.”

“You’re getting out of- we’re getting out of here. You were wonderful.”

“Yes I know. I will. I’m going to get out. With you.”

“Of course, █. We can live a life worth living together out there.”

“It’s going to be alright █.”

“I love you █, please. Trust me, things are gonna be fine.”

“One day at a time.”

One day at a time, she had repeated.

One day at a time, she repeats, staring at his face, flesh frozen in the way that only a cadaver could. She’d never forget the first time she had touched a dead body, and was forced to confront the jarring dissonance, the coldness, the stiffness, the pallor of the skin that had been warm, soft, pliable, just hours before. Only a child, forced to confront the concept of lives ending for the first time. Since then she had seen more than her fair share, from work, from this place, before her very eyes.

Joints creak and echo through her body as she moves, finally. To fold her knees under herself, sit at his side, hand hovering indefinitely, torn between not having to face that final moment of confirmation and wanting to just hold him once more. Before she would have to be torn from him for hours, before they returned from a useless trial and his body would be gone, before she’d have to trudge to their caravan, who’s emptiness would threaten to collapse on her.

“There is nothing worse than not knowing.”

( “No, there’s nothing worse than not living.” )

[firestarter-olaf]

tss liveblog

TSS part 1 - HA lemonys pretty lonely - wait this is like season 1s opening - but its more orangey - waiting... again - all wrong paths, mood - unnecessary physical fitness, MOOD - rumbling, again - TOKYO DRIFT - "we didnt die!" - theyre letting the disguises go huh - an oar??? - aw, no sticky long list of things - yes violet!!! - yikes, oar broke - that eyeshadow tho - more klaus screaming! - THAT SLOW MO - HOLY SHOOT - ITS TEARING!! - MY BABYS!!! NO!! - "we're alive, but we're not ok" tee ref!! - sunny's a fighter!! - "put her in the glove compartment" - t-r-y-m-f spells triumph - "only partially successful schemes" - right path adjkadsjkdsfj - olaf drinks and drives,,,, no - he just yeeted the bottle - "en roo-tay" - "women are more resilient" - since he first smelled kerosene?? - jadjdsjlkdfhas bald man doesnt regret esme tattoos - orlando woke - "overexaggerated melodrama", proceeds to laugh in an exaggerated manner - SUGAR BOWL!! - KIT!! - BRAVEST WOMAN LEM EVER KNEW - AAAAAAAAAAA DUUMVIRATE - SHES GON YEET HERSELF - WHILE PREGANANT?? - KIT NO - THE WINGS!!! - eagle call??? - OH THATS TERRIFYING - KIT NO WTF - YOURE PREGANTE - strong enough to break ice from beneath - beatrice ii, a trooper - kit was seven years old when she first hang glided - out of the woods - orlando gotta gooo - olaf?? blindfolded?? - call him out sunny!! - arson tips #1: be well-rested - orlando wash up pwease - howd the freaks even stay like that for so long - fernald, thats just sad - hugo calling them out!! - well his therapys all go so :/ - white faced ladies are conservatives - aaaaa baudelaires please just make up your mind!! - SNOW GNATS - CAVE - SNOW SCOUTS - AND CARMELITA - oh its this catchphrase scene - sunny!! - finger guns - orlando watches the good place - who is fernald in love with?? - VAPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 - orlando WOKE - pet - highway!! - scratch her eyes out esme - cutaway's neato - cakesniffers!! - QUIGLEY?? - mountain climbers - BRUCIE - THE PLEDGE - 113?? - carmelita thats rude - quigley call them out!! - VFD!! - snow scout snicket!! - "oopsie!" - cinderella?? but why - wait SHITT LUCY PUNCH PLAYED FOUR VERSIONS OF THE STEP SISTERS AND NOW SHES IN A POSITION OF A HYPOTHETICAL CINDERELLA JASKDKLSFDB DSJLKXZN BARRY SONNENFELD WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO US - fernalds the godmother - ah its that scene - cinders, cinderella - wipe that dirt!! - carmelita, the egoist - XYLOPHONE - false spring!! - let brucie rest!! - oh so a chinook then - "yes it does" - VFD!!! - VFD!!!! - ANNA KARENNINA!!!!! - klaus call her out!! - let the baudelaires rest!! - let the freaks rest!! - what happened with kevins father? - hugos got the right idea - kevs got daddy issues - KIT!!! - yikes, firestarters - i think WE do deserve better - DUUMVIRATE - "probably weasels" - WHERES THE SUGAR BOWL - sneakin out - tihoso!! - "give me those earrings, rachel" - well-read people are less likely to be evil!! - "cake,,," - SPIDER - "a pony party for me???" - VFD!!! - sunny?? - sunny!!! - food! - pajama outfit!! - SUNNY COOKS!! - she can speak proper words!! - FERNALD AND  SUNNY INTERACTIONS!! - stepdad,, ugh - dont i know it!!! - he was a theater kid!! - yay fernald salad! - MRS BASS - GET MURKED POE - WHY DID POE TALK ABOUT THE CODE?? - the police dsfjkdsajadsfjlk - gold bars?? - "keep in touch!" - awwwwww - that tartar look!! - servin up the dishes!! - orlando WOKE - "raw toast" - that all black outfit tho - she goth!! - OLAF DONT YOU DARE - lem had a pet weasel?? - THE DUUMVIRATE - mommy??? daddy??? - MENTORS - damn parents askin olaf like hes a college kid with a 1.5 gpa - THEY KILLED THE FREAKS???? - "thats not fair!" - THE VFD LOCK - THE SCHISM - why is the phrase so long tho??? - let kit rest!!! - how tf did poe get here - at least mr poes slightly competent - THE DOOR OPENED!! - DUUMVIRATE ARSONISTS - "the world is quiet here" - QUIGLEY!!!!!! ------ tss part 2 - how dare netflix make me skip the intro - no disguise voice this time - MONTY!! - HIS HOUSE!! - no,,,, - TIHOSO!! - BIKER BOY!! - is the driver ok - olaf, what a mood - "not scared"!! - """"associate"""" - he was a snow scout??? - JACQUELYN IS THE DUCHESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAH - "ice bees" - "not at all" - olaf vapes!!! - dinner theater? another musical number!! - at least olaf knows smokings bad - violets insane!! - a tale of arson and murder!! - monty and josephines deaths :( - olaf, the egoist - killjoy duumvirate - you go sunny!! - goo goo!! - all the fortunes,,,, - finnish female pirates!! - l. snicket?? hmmmmmmm - accordion dhjsfadhadfsjlkbadslkjf thats just daniel handler - pistachios?? - OPERA HOUSE FLASHBACK!!!!!!! - YOUNG OLAF!!!!! - THE DUUMVIRATE - OH ITS NO THE OPERA HOUSE BUT! ITS THE RECRUITMENT OF OLAF - "tortured, brooding loner" MOOD - journalism?? - picnics,,,, - baby cage,,,,,, flashbacks to tbb - "odes?" "oh, codes!" - "thank you for vplunteering" - VIOLET NO - ah!!!!! quiglet time - "very lovely indeed" - they never got it back?? - commonplace book!! - the fridge code!! - venting fernalds desires - sunny!! - sarsaspillera? - "free-range henchpeople" - not yet??? - mati hara - NOT A BABY!!! - she takes after her sister!!! - parsley soda!! - "what choice do we have?" - J.S. - the last safe place!! - dakjlkajdfkjladflm olafs like a teenager - esme!!!!!!!! - "it's not fire, it's fashion" - fgjldsjladskf she crashed - shame they didnt use the evil laugh seen in those bts videos - "dressed to kill" - trap!! - a life of villainy!! salads!! - "some days you just cant catch a break" same energy as john mulaneys "this might as well happen" - let brucie rest!! - carmelita is a dictator - mush! mush! - white faced ladies backstory!! - the duumvirate are savages - "slay that baby!" - white faced ladies, orlando, bald man turn!!!! what will happen next - this CAGE empty, YEET - "im your favorite?" - SUNNY!!! - EAGLES - FORTUNES, ORPHANS, PLAN INITIATE - kidnapping!! - jkfdhjkflasdsf "we should discuss about that first" - ROSEBUD!!! - QUIGLEY! NO!! - CROSSROADS - the stricken streams melting yall - jmnzdjadsjadhjk the queequeg!!! - "my brothers taxi" :((( - mobile phones??? - the whole towns on fire???

[jewpacabruhs]

I was reading your tags and please, for the love of God, write a Mafia AU. I haven't been able to find any good ones.

i wanna so bad! i find organized crime fascinating, & i’m also a big movie nerd, with crime films being my fav genre, so im super into that sorta thing. definitely would love to see it, but o boy, maybe ill jus write it myself?? gotta do everythin myself haha

i’d def go the historical route, so it’d be interesting to try to both apply characters that are firmly rooted in 90s/2000s behaviors & beliefs, and stick them in the 1900s. oh, boy, writing historical stuff is a pain. so much research. worth it tho, if it’s done well. aye, and it’ll be cool to try to keep it as nonfictional as possible. like, attempting to insert the kids (as adults, obvs) into crime history. i wonder if i could do tht? it’d be fun. it’s definitely uncharted waters. there’s a lot of potential there.

but, hmm, i think mafia aus are so rare in fandom (not just the sp fandom, but across the board) bc they contradict everything that’s popular in fanfic. mob aus would feature violence, business, finances, and corruption. whereas fics prefer cuddles, leisure time, a world where money aint an issue, and wholesomeness. and considering the majority of fic is written by horny and/or love-starved teenage girls who dont know or care about the aforementioned subjects, it makes sense. kinda a bummer, but understandable. in the defense of like everyone, lmao, those sorta fics take a lot of planning, & aint nobody got time. so i get it.

oof i think a major thing too is how gay-centric fic/fandom is, when the mobster world is undeniably a heterosexual one. thats an issue. shit, i wonder how many gay characters i could get away with while keeping it realistic. i mean, im sure there were gay mobsters, in fact i’ve read about a couple, but the lifestyles did not go hand in hand, lol.

IM STUPID NO ONE CARES ABT THIS DUMB SHIT HERES IDEAS

i’m thinking 1940s new york. im inclined towards kyman, as u probs kno, but again, the gay thing. huh. maybe i can figure it out. maybe theyre young bachelors, and theyre business partners & fuck around sometimes. we’ll see. anyway. if we’re gonna include all characters….

cartman would pull a goodfellas - he’s of, what, german descent? hell, considering his parents, he probably wouldn’t even exist in this universe. eh. well. he’d def be from yorkville, manhattan, cuz tht was a german neighbourhood. anyway he’d weasel into the italian mob, bc he’d be into the idea of 1) exorbitant amounts of money, and 2) being feared/respected. his authoritah! psh. and someone would notice how smart he is & mentor him, regardless of nationality. he’d quickly make enemies, though, because he’s rude & brash. he’d also quickly become one of the most respected young dons (would he reach that level, without a family? doubt it. he’d have to become a made man, which i believe is reserved exclusively for italians ….. ehhhh ill figure it out. maybe he’d branch out, start his own crime family. that’d be interesting. ooo.) damn, ukno, i think the 40s would make a real interesting character out of cartman. huh. yah, that’d be cool to explore, how that time period would shape him. like i said, he likely wouldt even exist. did the denver broncos exist back then? doubt it

kyle would get wrapped up in the jewish mob (which existed, and which i’d personally l o v e to be a part of lol - if i was born 100 years ago), maybe while trying to protect ike from getting involved? that’d be cool. maybe he’d demonstrate his brains & be offered a job as an accountant or an attorney, and he’d be forced to comply, either bc 1) his fam was threatened if he declined, or 2) his fam was doing bad financially & needed it. maybe both. hell, maybe he avoids the jewish mob & gets involved with the others. MAYBE IKE IS THE ONE IN THE JEWISH MOB & WANTS HIS BROTHER BACK FROM THE ITALIANS. OOOOOOOOO also they’d be from brooklyn, likely, bc that’s where jews were primarily located back then. u kno there was 400k jews in new york in 1899?? including my great great great grandparents. that’s a shit ton of jews lol. lil fun fact for ya. 

wait ok so oof this is hard now, bc the mob was primarily divided into three chunks - the italians, the jews, & the irishmen. there was also the puerto ricans, but that was, like, a different division. i’m mentioning this because nationality was important to mobsters, to all organized crimes groups actually, but south park doesn’t make a habit of mentioning what countries each character’s ancestors came from, lol. so it’d be a lot of writer interpretation. and that’s cool and all, but doesn’t give me much to work with, considering most of the kids are white and likely german/england-descended. 

i could make kenny & butters irish. that’d work. i think kenny’s last names irish, actually. they could be from hell’s kitchen, which had a p hefty irish-american population. maybe i could make stan irish, too. wendy might be able to pass for italian (little italy manhattan??? maybe the bronx??? im tryna think geography lol. for scale.). that’d work, if i wanted to put some stendy in there, bc i love making stan the token het guy, haha. maybe wendys dad marries her off to stan to form an alliance between the italians & irish. that’d be interesting. maybe cartman was rallying to get wendy to marry him, bc he needed to marry someone bc of, like, societal expectations, & she was the only girl who caught his interest. maybe he declares war on stan, to win back the bride he wants. maybe kyles best friends w stan, tht happened somehow, & interjects. goes to meet cartman to discuss a way out - ohhhhh theres my kyman babay!!! oooooo!!!

omg. plot forming. this is def an interesting concept. maybe i can use it as a chance to write a plot-oriented fic that doesn’t rely heavily on ships. that’d be awesome. i’ve wanted to do that for ages.

maybe we can squeeze christophe in as a french immigrant, maybe an associate of someone. same with gregory, but, like, british. that’d be fun. craig & tweek can be somewhere in there, too. associates of cartman or something. maybe they own a brothel. oooh. who else. bebe! maybe she can be a cabaret dancer who someone falls for. nothin wrong w hetero nonsense if it’s done right & if it aint nonsense. yah? maybe she can be ken’s love interest. also maybe token & nichole can be in there somewhere, from harlem?

this sounds fun as fuck, though, def. im really obsessed with new york right now, so maybe writing this could be a love letter to its history. that’d be dope. ooh, and im from las vegas actually, born & raised, so maybe i could do a chapter set there, considering the mob was very influential in the strip’s development. that’d be rad. holy heck. im excited abt this now. gotta finish oboitd asap & get into this, haha.

o shit. i jus realized, like, just how much research i’d have to do. like, not only about organized crime, abt 40s slang & dress, abt new york, abt everything. oooh boy this is a Project

ill get on that eventually haha, im into it now. it’s 4am rn tho so ima sleep, gnite anon

[starksimaginationcreations]

I didn't know that it would be this hard,

In 8 years I put up a hell of a guard.

I Never knew my walls where built so High,

Because of That little girl, we never asked Why?

People didn't see how sad this momma was,

My soul walked around as if it were the cause.

Most of our loved ones didnt know we split up

They were too busy living.

I should have packed my things and all my jewelry rings.

Instead I trapped myself with the monster,

I Even convinced myself full of wonder.

How do you love someone who isn't ever around?

This person will make you smash to the ground.

Each argument held thoughts of Evil,

You easily snuck into my family like a weasel.

They believed your every word.

Too bad, half the things you said where absurd.

Your lies held so many empty promises,

At 18 years old I definitely wasn't the smartest.

Negativity rose through you like volcanic acid,

You put me in my own casket,

Without even realizing it.

Mental abuse is just as bad as physical.

The ways you would play with my brain,

made my mind in the state critical.

I don't miss how you where always so Blue.

And you'll regret the day you told my little girl "Mommy Doesn't want you."

So many unnecessary actions ,

Running away became my instant reaction.

From that first time you chased me down Winterdale road,

In me Fear was noticable .

Wrapping me in an unfamiliar embrace, I wasn't used to this new face.

Only 5 words.

Words that should have been soothing,

Came from your lips like you where the "New King."

"I WONT LET YOU GO."

I cried out in need of someone familiar,

Your squeeze could have killed her.

Your arms where larger back then,

And I remember from the last time I prayed amen.

You took me to North Carolina,

We should have just went to China.

The trailer was perfect, but not a single thing that happened was worth it.

My insecurities got me thinking about my appearance,

I spoke into the distance.

I'm Fat" escaped my big mouth,

Soon enough everything went south.

The trailer was demolished.

We had to repolish.

You didn't even blink when you picked up the couch.

I should have noticed you where a big Ole grouch. 

Wholes filled walls and DVDS covered the floor,

AlthoughYou did a whole lot more.

My body was too sore.

Anger is one with you,

This is one of the reasons we are through.

But that was 8 years ago,

Now days, I'm always in a rush to run from you.

I had just turned sixteen years old.

At 49 years, your stories will always be told.

Foolish of me to fall for your rebels,

I was a child who didn't know about many battles.

Atleast, I'd have to agree,

There was a way out for me.

At this point in time,

Your words became a rhyme.

With every demand,

I bowed down to your slick command.

When I was sixteen I thought I had fell inlove,

But the devil himself rose  from above.

Your horns pierced through my soul,

And by the 8th year I lost all control.

You never cared about my heart,  you just didn't want to be alone or left as one part.

Your Obsessions reached right to the bone.

My heart will need to be re-sowed.

You made me let go of important people,

Your grasp on me was deadly and Lethal.

It was only you that created my frown.

Sometimes I hoped you weren't such a clown. 

But with all our chaotic madness, 

I fell into a large hole if blackness.

I hated Khloe Lea with a passion,

So much I could have thrown her in acid.

That's what you did to me emotionally,

Physically is a story for those who talk socially .

Because they all knew the rumors,

Everyone believes the good old Dufton and his humors.

What did he do that was so bad?

How about taking a better look? my bad?

For when I was Only seventeen,

He fed me methamphetamine.

I became addicted and found myself a victim.

SHAWN DUFTON was a foolish man with a thought out system.

We began to drink more than i like to admit,

The first time he put his hands on me,

You wouldn't believe it.

We still raised our glasses for a toast,

Of coarse the first thing you said got put on a post.

For maybe 4 years, I delt with so many tears.

You smashed things in anger,

I had to admit to myself this was danger.

But my mind played with my heart ,

And I tried to leave but couldn't part.

Deep down in me,

there was still a beating heart. 

I had trained my brain into thinking ilovedyou.

Foolish child, you only saw what was dangled above you. 

Promises of a fairy tale love,

You never cared, only gave me some shoves.

The bathroom door came with me to the floor,

I landed on a heater, and got some burns on my back that lasted a year or more.

You always told me to open up.

But your ears wherent big enough.

The friends I made, you took advantage of.

I couldn't have girlfriends that wouldn't help you get it up for them.

You where seductive,

Too bad I was abducted.

By a real man who knew exactly what I was going through.

He had the same problems, and you put him down because he did better than you

He knew I was gonna commit suicide, younever let tell  about my time.

Opening up to him felt comfortable.

Being around him the first couple times was emotional.

He held me when i cried and opened my eyes to see your disguise.

The torment I endured, soon was cured.

By thi who knew my worth.

You'll never hurt me again,

Because he will ruin your pride to no end.

Fuck around and you'll be sorry.

My daughter will soon be with me and maybe I'll give her a sister to play with in a safari.

I hope you realize the damage that you've caused.

When I grow with a glow you'll know

That in the end you should have paused.

Thought about what you could have prevented.

Maybe then I wouldn't have been arguementive.

But don't get me wrong,

We just didn't belong.

In a relationship that took years to figure out.

I was Only 16

should have listened to that doubt.

My heart doesn't ache for you anymore

because soon enough,

You'll be alone with only your hand to play.

Furthermore, let me apologize.

For the things I kept secret and on the side.

Don't think you have the upper hand in this war.

Mama's bear is coming for her cub.

And if you try to give me a lug,

This new man of mine will give you a slug.

Dont play with my new confidence.

Bc I'll have 900 reasons to bring my Prince.

Don't mess with a game you don't know how to play.

Bc this Queen will turn your ass into Clay.

That little girl deserves to be happy.

Not sit around and watch you age crappy.

She'll have smiles for hours,

And she's young so she'll forget all about you.

We where supposed to be a team, a family of three,

Instead you broke me to my knees and now I have to ween.

Like a baby, I cry some nights

Thinking about how we got into those fights.

Infront of a 2 year old who only seen mommy and daddy playing mean.

Deadly we where , let's let this one go before we begin to lure, another black whole that will suck me dry.

I just need some healing time.

To cure myself of the pain you gave me for a long while.

[llycaons]

further black sails finale thoughts

the fact that we see mr.s hudson reunited with her children is very sweet but we don’t see julius or any of his people? the entire former slave community of nassau???? ruth and eme??? the only maroon camp person we see is madi so the audience has no idea how the people living there are taking this besides like. leaving.

also WHAT happened to kofi did he die?

we don’t even know if slavery is still used on providence island! I mean, max is in charge now and the treaty written by rogers specifies that the people on madi’s maroon camp will all be free - does that mean every single person from every island that came to join their fight? what about the people still left on nassau? did they take over the estates they used to be enslaved at?

for all of max’s explanations that slaves can easily escape and join pirate crews from nassau, we actually see very few pirates who aren’t white. joshua and joji are the only two I can think of, besides split-second background extras, and that group from s1ep1. and they all die.

idelle and featherstone have been a thing for a while but I wish we got to see if she actually loved him back...not that marrying a guy for other reasons is wrong but it would have been nice to know she was in love as well as him. god, idelle is so cool. the scene telling off anne for killing charlotte >>>>>

max and anne’s handhold was a slow repair of their relationship, gradual and realistic, but I would have liked to see them together one last time. max maybe made the biggest journey of anyone except like, silver

anne in her final scene still has her old hat and trousers, but she’s smiling a lot more openly now and appears to have some authority on the ship. self-discovery and acceptance, reconciling with max, having jack by her side, and doing the work she loves - anne’s character arc and how her story ends is so heartwarming. genuinely.

the person who really was fucked in all this was madi. her hope, her trust, her beliefs, her faith, her love - it all must seem spoiled now

rogers also betrayed the woman he loved “for her own protection,” he was ruined and she died. silver gets madi back, and that. like. okay I was lukewarm on silvermadi, like it’s fine, I’m glad she’s happy, but it’s upsetting to think how deeply she was betrayed and how she still chose to marry him. like, I don’t want that for her? I want her to be with someone she can actually feel close to and trust? idk

i feel like the writers shortcharged her in order to make silver’s wife in treasure island this woman. after building up this kind of person, would she really go back to him? like, for him? i still dont get it! he’s a smooth-talking little weasel man with major baggage. and I don’t like how he talks to his loved ones, even when it’s supposed to be an emotional moment.

i think im in the minority when I say I just do not feel the emotion from silver’s character. like, luke arnold’s a fine actor I just see nothing to relate to no performance that elicits connection from me no relationship with anyone that I felt the slightest hint of care for. barely with madi, certainly not with flint, for all the subtext of that relationship. silver isn’t even funny anymore. s1 silver was funny at least

one last observation on how women are written in this setting - they are, by and large, not fighters. but this doesn’t mean they have no agency and its certainly doesn’t mean they have no power. and it’s a nice way to showcase women as human beings rather than “she fights so she’s a feminist character” (even though I love women who fight and anne IS a feminist character)

but like. women move the plot without ever fighting, or being expected to fight, or being considered weaker for not fighting, miranda using her connections and anger to push flint to kill the hamiltons, max controlling the sources of information for the entire island, eleanor brokering deals to keep commerce alive (ugh) and using her experience to set rogers up, marion stepping behind her husband’s back to run the business, the maroon queen ruling her kingdom, mrs. mapleton ferrying information between enemies, mrs. hudson lying to her spanish agent and causing the entire debacle with jack, anne’s emotional finale of accepting an apology and reaching out to her love, and madi - steady leader, trustworthy and wise, voice of the maroons. like flint’s, their stories are mostly silent in history

I still am upset that madi’s agency and her choices in the finale were taken away (by the writers, for the plot) and even though silver made decisions against her will she still goes back to him...sigh

anyway, excellent show if you can get through s1, heavy use of metaphor with these inexplicably articulate pirates, themes of stories and shame and monsters and freedom and dark and light, high rewatch value, high production value, THRILLING fight scenes, gay protagonist, three wlw secondary protagonists, absolutely brilliant character writing

warnings for: lots of sex scenes, lots of violence/gore, racism, major character death, not exactly a happy ending but a quietly hopeful one, look up the trigger warnings for sexual assault in s1 if that would bother you

[tamiddyinyourcity]

6:02pm.

30 minutes until he leaves work.

Alright, what's been up, yalls?

In less than a month, I made friends with almost everyone in a discord, and in less than 48 hours, left due to my own sin of... whats it called? Rage, anger? I don't know, but this is what the Gen Z kiddos would call a "bruh moment", with a dash of "hoes mad".

Wednesday, July 29th of 2020.

Hoes mad, hoes mad, hoes mad, hoes mad, hoes mad, hoes mad, hoes mad, hoes mad.

DAMN IT, now I've got that Belle Delphine remix of 6ix9ine in my fucking head. Ugh. Why.

....

6:08pm.

I looked it up. My dick is hard and I'm not happy about it at all. Just..... let's... talk.... please.

I went on a second date with someone that turned into an eleven day long hangout.

I'm impressed, honestly. I feel like that should be a world record, you know?

And now I am back home. And its surreal.

Spending 11 days in a row where someone buys you clothes, cooks you dinner, and fucks you really, really nicely? Then you go to sleep, wake up seeing them, and then wait around in their house all day binge watching The Marvelous Mrs Maisel and relaxing, until they get home, for even more fun? It's great. Even if I did feel like a Golden Retriever. (When I heard him park outside, I instinctively ran *embarassingly loud* to rush to the door and greet him. He heard.... they were almost stomps.)

And now, back home. In my own house, where both of my brothers will clog the toilet then refuse to unclog it themselves, (they're the worst type of men to exist,) and my always overheated fucking bedroom. Wearing my own clothes and having a selection, instead of settling for Target yoga pants and my man's t-shirts, over and over. (I loved it, do not get me wrong.)

Back to waking up alone, and sleeping alone.... Sleeping was the hardest part, not being the big spoon to his fine ass. Like, wooooow. Rude. I gotta go home AND not sleep with him until next weekend????

A girl had almost cried, honestly.

Hmmm.... and he bought me a boatload of art supplies. Not gonna lie, he is pretty sweet so far. Even in Target, if I looked a little TOO endearingly at a purse or an item, he would get it for me. (I think he blew like 1k in two days, all because a "i just need a new shirt and maybe some sweats" or "just a notebook" turned into him gushing over cool things to cook for me that night, buying me sharpies and mechanical pencils, aaaaaand swiping the entire shelf of Yu Gi Oh cards into his cart.)

The first step to addiction is a confession, and he's in denial. But who cares? If his interest is in cool holographic cards and collecting them, and my interest is collecting absurd amounts of pens in every color in existence, (i dont even know how to analyze myself with that, ill just chalk it up to being amused by unlimited creative potential within myself,) theeeeen.... we can deal with it.

Those decks are pretty rad, honestly.

Nooooow I'm peacefully procrastinating drawing in my manifestation journal, reflecting happily on things, and feeling overall good about things.

Outside of this, some noteworthy moments:

Marco finally hit me up.

It took a month, a few days, and his own desperation but he did it. He did it. The absolute dickhead. I checked my blocked messages in case any family I blocked wondered what happened to me over the course of 11 days, but nope. What I did find? Marco. Trying to weasel back in. I just..... what the fuck is wrong with this guy? At this point, it's an "I'm gonna hold my nose bridge, then shake my head in disturbance" level irritation.

Shoutout to Marco, for.... being fucking stupid, always. I probably told the guy I'm seeing, "I think he's an irredeemable piece of shit, and an asshole, but I could've pictured him being in my life a long time, as long as I kept that in mind", a little too loud. The Universe heard it, then decided to manifest him sending me a message yet again.

Context for our last fight was him accusing me of not being over the ex boyfriend that he SPECIFICALLY KEEPS BRINGING UP YEARS AFTER THE FUCKING BREAKUP HAPPENED. I definitely used every cruel statement I could after we both had blocked each other. I kinda went American Psycho in terms of the type of cruel shit I said to him. Did he see it? No. I hoped he did. But apparently not.

Speaking of me going off over the phone on somebody, I did that to some people on a local discord. A dumbass instigating ugly ass bitch with shitty bangs had the nerve to tell me not to make dirty jokes in the #nsfw section of the discord...... She also said a lot of other shit to insinuate that me and my guy, who met through the damn chat, being on the server and talking about our lives were "selfish, childish, immature", and more. But...... bitch, just say you hate my boyfriend and go? Fucking... yuck.

People are idiots. Idiots.

Anyway, I politely called her, in Martha Stewart elegance, an unlikeable fucking bitch who felt entitled to say whatever the fuck she wanted but could dish it out and never fucking take it. (Surprisingly, I avoided swearing, nice.)

Then I politely thanked everyone who I thought was cool on the server, called a few people annoying or idiotic, then dipped.

.....

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I don't feel bad. Another case of "Tamiddy hates being nice to people and then getting hit with arrogance, rudeness, or unnecessary bullshit from other people; then 24 hours and a bad case of chest pains that felt like she was being carved inside out from her lungs, IBS, and extreme dehydration and irritatibility later, she will shit on a bitch with her words, then feel better."

Did I feel better? Absolutely. I laughed about that shit. I felt fucking great. Online or not, it feels like throwing a metal chair across the room and over the head of a bitch you dont like.

I also felt the usually post-drama guilt, where I then think "Maybe I overreacted? Maybe it was too much. I probably messed up. Oh dear. Oh gosh."

Buuuut oh well. Chat was getting dead anyways. I met whoever I thought was worth meeting, and people were lovely. I wouldn't shut out every single person on the server. Just the douchey ones. Thats all.

According to my guy, the general consensus from the chat was everyone was sad to see me go, and didn't think I should've left.

But I'm a little more of a hothead these days, so I'm just stepping back for now. I find it pointless to be in a chatroom where I'd get mocked harshly like that.

ESPECIALLY over something like "wow u posted nsfw to nsfw, how cringe", or "you and ur boyfriend flood #foodies", um???? sorry that two photos of my food and his supposedly annoys yall lonely fucks, but um, go die in loneliness i guess.

Was gonna recommend one of Kieran's songs to my new dude. But he purged his page. (Why do people do that, dude?) Checked his Twitter. He's still alive, and just vibing.... BUT saw some crappy tweet related to Patrick, and got upset.

I think I'd like to go the rest of my life not remembering him. Too much cowardice, too fucking weak. And his eyes were painfully nice back then, so the idea of that blue eyed twat still being alive and existing? Grosses me out.

Probably since I liked the idea of existing with him too, until things got so fucked.... but, eh.

On the bright side, I can at least say I always tried. And as fucked up as it sounds, that bus will hit him someday one way or another, and it'll be excellent. I hope it comes real soon.

Hmmm..... what else should I say?

It's painfully hot in my bedroom.

I feel content.

Birthday comes soon, excited for it.

Wish me luck yalls. Bless up, peace out.