#psycho pete returns

[absolutely-not-my-main-blog]

[badnew2005]

psycho pete returns the episode of ALL TIMEEEEE like we get the gang singing psycho killer (qu’est-cry que c’est!!!! fafaffafafafafa !!!!!!) we get reynolds trio mental illness excursion we get macs storm sexuality vs religion (look dude i feel guilty All The time for my thoughts and urges) we get cricket !!!! (and a little charmac cricket theme song) we get to meet another highschool friend ! pete ! there’s a shroud of misery surrounding the gang and highschool like it’s canon a large amount of their highschool friends have killed themselves or at least tried to. it’s misery. we get franks flashbacks and some genuine emotional frank content. priest cricket content which in itself is heartbreaking. the pete murdered and ate his family rumour. that everyone from highschool believes. this poor man trying to look after himself getting turned into a monster (not even directly by the gang). dennis reynolds talking to a mental health practitioner, getting put on meds and taking them. dees streetcar named desire impression :) mention of dee trying to set her college roommate on fire (while she was sleeping.) frank being stuck in his memories in his delusions trying to find someone to look after (and someone who would look after him). the doctor trying to catch frank with a net “i’m not sick anymore” treating him like a child, experiencing infantilisation because of his mental illness. pete being invited to visit his friends but being left alone and shunned in their bar while they talk about exorcisms and drugs to cure you. frank deciding to kill pete to “put him out of his misery” because he’s had a glimpse a memory of how they treated him. pete standing up to the gang “it’s just a rumour people started about me, kind of like the rumours you guys started about me.” someone putting them in their place. it was just social anxiety and depression. “i was really more of a danger to myself”. wanting to reconnect with the gang (but they’re too far gone themselves) thinking the gang could help him cope that They could deal with his mental illness and suicidal ideation. sending him away on a train.

[elapsed-spiral]

My favourite flavour of post-reunion S2 Izzy dynamic is where Ed just drives the guy insane by reminding him that he's boning Stede at every available opportunity.

It works for everything: Izzy complains about how the ship's run? "Well I had no complaints about Captain Bonnet's performance last night, if you catch my drift." Izzy complains about how little loot they've taken? "Ah, well, we're tired this morning because we [insert colourful description of last night's bang-a-thon]." Izzy complains about- "This reminds me of when Stede and I-" Izzy is out of there. He's huffing, he's storming off, he's gone. It's fine. This repeats every day of course but it's whatever.

[dennisboobs]

it mmmmmight be these for maureen

WAIT has anyone brought up the note on the calendar in making dennis reynolds a murderer that says "pick up meds"??

i'm assuming it's the calendar for paddy's bc of "charlie work" (obviously written by charlie) and "pay day," but why would someone write "pick up meds" on it? and do we know anyone else who has been prescribed meds besides dennis? i mean frank did in sweet dee has a heart attack for like one episode but we don't hear of him taking anti-anxiety meds again right? it's most likely dennis' handwriting anyway because we know he writes his d's with that little loop:

and that's not just him writing in cursive bc d's in cursive don't even have that loop. so is he actually taking the meds prescribed to him by that psychiatrist? regularly?? and putting it on a calendar for everyone to see?? that seems unlikely but I can't think of another explanation...

(but also what's the "key drop off" for?? maybe they're just writing generic shit on a calendar? but no I think rcg would be deliberate ab what they put on there even if it's just shown for a second) (EDIT: it says keg drop off. whoops)

if someone has noticed/thought about this pls lmk what you think the pick up meds means !!

[a-a-a-anon]

absolutely fascinated by young dee who is criminally under-discussed so here is my dissertation on what happened in her college years (ft. dr. gainer, setting her roommate on fire, being institutionalized)/my idea for a fic that I will almost certainly never write/my way too serious take on a few throwaway dee lore lines

timeline background: we know that dee majored in psychology ('charlie got molested') and got "three fourths" of the way in (meanwhile dennis finished his psych minor.) assuming this was a four year program, I'm gonna guess that in her third year she got institutionalized and most likely had to drop out ('gun fever too: still hot'.) we also know that she had her back brace until she was twenty ('underage drinking'), so I'm guessing that means she got her back brace off in her third year.

we know that dennis fancied himself a psychologist since he was young, but I think dee did too. in particular I think she was wary and interested in her brother's psychology; she seems very aware of his psychopathy and bpd in 'making dennis reynolds a murderer' and 'psycho pete returns.' in my head she's been interested in dennis' psychology since they were kids and she saw him snapping crows necks. so instead of forcing her way into acting school, she studied psychology to better understand her brother (and also deep down, herself, who is very much the other side of the same fucked up coin.) it also meant she could tell herself she could study her characters even better when she became an actress.

i think she put in (her version of) genuine academic effort to get in, fuelled kind of by spite (remember the way she studied that thick medical book in 'hero or hate crime' or her very quick math in 'boggs: ladies reboot'). she studies books and gets cricket to quiz her and she still fails to get into penn. but frank always pitied her (i think she was his favorite of the twins-remember "let your sister into the gang", "that's my girl!", "i'm sorry the grift didn't work out, sweetie") so he shells out cash to get her in, but also to get her away from home so he has to deal with her even less.

dennis wants to do anything dee does but better and he wants to keep her close by (to watch her crash and burn, and also because he's weirdly possessive-see 'the gang broke dee' "i'm your select!"). and obviously he's barbara's favorite. so barbara gives him money to get in too. she also gets him into a frat and pays for his classes and his rent and everything he needs. dee has to live in a dumpy dorm with a female roommate.

but college presents dee a chance to moult her previous place in life where she was known as a monster (remember how insistent she was that "people can change!" in 'franks pretty woman'. I think dees always wanted to believe she can shed that feeling she's inferior, but she never has). in my head her female roommate is basically normal-has real friends of her own, mentally stable, attractive-which is exactly what dee craves. dee wants to be popular and well liked and she wants to infiltrate her roommates life, imitate her, be in the Cool group. and she places all her hopes on a friendship with the roommate but dee has never navigated real female friendships before, not with someone like her. deep down she also wishes she found what dennis found in mac, whatever it was, because ever since dennis met mac he's never been as close to her. and i do think dee is some flavor of queer. and the roommate is well liked in the way that dee admires and envies. so there is that blurriness between wanting to be her and wanting to be with her. in my head her roommate looks like the woman from dee's fantasy in 'the gang saves the day' (and they both represent that promise of escape from dee's shitty life).

dee is so desperate for the roommates approval and her love and her life that she goes insane, copying and flattering and competing with her. ever the shitty actress, she tries to emulate her, but comes off as manic and creepy. and maybe her roommate is nice enough to not completely shun her, recognizing that she's struggling. maybe in dees mind they actually are becoming friends when her roommate asks things like "are you okay?"

and dee has to talk about her plan with dennis because he's the only person who would Get It. and she makes it sound like it's almost working. dennis feels jealous and worried and threatened that maybe dee might actually be seen as normal, especially when she gets her back brace off in the third year. so dennis fucks her roommate, more of a show that he owns and controls each and every pathetic part of dee’s life than anything else. and so that dee knows she'll never be as good as him, she'll never as easily charm people as dennis does. (or at least he tells her he does).

to prove that To Someone dee is Good Enough, and so desperate for attention, dee (who's been groomed all this time) enters a sexual relationship with her professor dr. gainer. she tells herself she has the power in it, that she seduced him ("he didn't molest me. i had sex with him 'cause i wanted to.") and she has a mental break, because the thing she told herself held her back from being loved (her back brace) is finally gone by now and yet she still feels like a monster, and the only scrap of "love" she can get is from her professor.

and then she can't take the fact that she can steal her roommates clothes, can emulate her sexual prowess (in dee's own fucked up, delusional way), and still neither be well liked like her nor be loved by her. so maybe dee will always be a monster. so dee tried to burn her roommate in her bed, because she represented the promise of change and popularity, and that promise was a lie and dee's effort was for nothing. and she's institutionalized.

and i think there was kind of a falling out between the twins and their parents, because barbara wants to abandon dee but dennis can't help but visit her. and frank doesn't even step foot in a place that reminds him of his traumatic childhood, and avoids dee even more than he used to because she is his childhood mirror image. so the family becomes even more fractured and estranged.

and maybe dee becomes medicated and slowly crawls her way halfway to normal by the first season (her acting classes are so well-adjusted, taking part in healthy hobbies of her!). until her father comes back into her life and everything falls apart <3

side note, even though dee is crushingly lonely-"I just got a cat 'cause I wanted something to hang out with. I don't have, you know, a roommate or anything, and I don't really have anyone to talk to..."-AND she struggles to pay rent whenever frank cuts her off, i hc that she refused to ever get a roommate in particular female roommate again after this because both her internalized misogyny got worse and she was afraid of what would happen (what she would do) again.

[twooowars]

holy fuck wow that new wheels post made me very curious so i looked on imdb for the user ratings of what are considered the Worst episodes... these are the "bottom 12" iasip episodes according to them, excluding gang beats boggs ladies reboot for obvious reasons. which would YOU consider the absolute worst out of the following episodes?

[lu-sn]

Rank the VegasPete kisses 😈

suz i stg this ask is gonna get me super mega cancelled. when you find my mangled body in a decrepit alleyway tell my family i loved them

-

6. i love you, pete.

listen, no okay, LISTEN, put down your pitchforks, this is an s-tier kiss okay, i know!!!!! I KNOW BUT EVERY VEGASPETE KISS IS INSANE!!!! SOMETHING HAS TO BE AT THE BOTTOM

i did and still do think it's a lil cray cray of vegas to say he's in love with pete like ten days after dicking him down, but the blood-streaked mouths and vegas's devastated face as he pushes pete away afterwards sure do make up for it

5. you must suffer until i'm satisfied

the thing that gets me about this one is the total lack of artifice on vegas's part. despite every touch of his before this having been part of a long, cruel, twisted performance, this one is so gentle. so unassuming. a gift, more than anything else.

the conversation after is critical to their relationship, and i'm not sure pete would have wanted to open himself up like that without this kiss as proof of vegas's... sincerity? vegas isn't playing a game anymore — and pete can finally stop playing too.

4. psycho

head in hands!!! i can't believe this isn't in the top 3 someone send me to jail rn

i don't need to talk about this yall Know. third eye opened brain chemistry rewired brainrot permanently acquired "you like me like this" "i know exactly what i want" the way their hands paw at each other the way vegas smiles the way pete's KNEES GO WEAK I'M FOREVER SCREAMING

3. you're the most important person in my life

ugly sobbing in the gutter they trust each other they cherish each other they're going to work so hard to stay together they're coming together as EQUALS in the LIGHT AFTER THE STORM I'M—

it's the way they cradle each other's faces in their hands, okay. it's the unbearable tenderness, and it's the promises they're making to each other!!! that shit just gets me real bad 😭

2. (we only kiss people we like)

their entire sex scene is characterized by an unexpected, intense tenderness, and this last kiss is really the nail in the coffin for me. the way pete is leaning up into this, chasing vegas's mouth — the way vegas is so unbelievably soft as he presses himself into pete — the space they've carved out together in the darkness for this moment of startling intimacy — something has changed here, in both of them. and it's going to be their undoing.

1. i need you, pete.

I DON'T CARE IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME I WILL DIE ON MY LITTLE HILL THIS IS THE BEST KISS IN THE ENTIRE SHOW. SCREENSHOTS DO NOT DO IT JUSTICE. vegas is TREMBLING into this kiss he is TERRIFIED he's made an awful awful mistake and he's about to lose the best thing he's ever had he is CLINGING TO PETE trying to press all of his monstrous love into pete's skin i'm so sorry i didn't mean it i need you i will worship you look at how gentle i can be with you? look at how desperately i want to cherish you please please pete don't leave me MY GOD I AM CHEWING ON THE WALLS IT HURTS SO GOOD

and pete is so vulnerable to this kind of touch. he's shaking too, he's gasping and sobbing and almost can't believe what he's about to do in return. pete intends for this to be their last kiss — and vegas has no idea.

[the-halls-of-hatchetfield-high]

(frkjnfrhshgdw richie my absolute favorite)

Helloo! What are all of yalls favorite movies/shows?

-🌌

Richie: wait wait wait, I'm your favorite? ME?

Pete: Hey! Thanks for the question. I'm a massive Star Wars fan, I'd probably bore you if I went on about it but the short answer is Return of the Jedi or The Empire Strikes Back, I mean the twist is a classic, come on! As for comfort shows, I actually really enjoy classic cartoons like Scooby Doo. There's just something so satisfying about the hand-drawn animation.

Ruth: Hi! Does the 2016 slime tutorial of Ride the Cyclone count? Ricky Potts is my spirit animal, I mean...being the most important person, the actual SAVIOR of a planet AND getting to save them all by making love? Sign me up!

Richie: okay but...your absolute...you mean, like...me? I'M your absolute-

Max: uhh hey? i guess...like...peaky blinders? it's super dark and they get to use guns and get with hot chicks...that's the life, man. that's the LIFE.

for a movie, i guess remember the titans. that shit?? it moved me, man. we watched it as a team and...damn, i've never seen a group of jocks sob like that. it was actually really cool.

Grace: Hi there!! Thank you for asking!! I find shows like the Great British Bake Off super calming and-

*checks that her parents aren't listening*

Okay, so...I'm actually a big fan of true crime shows! I just think it's so fun to learn about how insane psychos can be, AAAAND you get the mystery of guessing what happened!! It's the best!! I was a huge Buzzfeed Unsolved fan, I have my own notebook of theories and everything!!

Steph: hey, nice question! lately i've been getting into Mr. Robot, it's given me some great tips for my cryptocurrency twitter debates, and I love how intellectual it is

Richie: but like...of ALL the students at Hatchetfield High, you mean to tell me that ME, Richie Lipschitz, is-

Pete: *Massaging his temples* Richie! For God's sake! They asked you a question!

Richie: okay okay, sheesh! calm your titties, pete!

uhhh well...i mean, i LOVE anime, tough to pick a favorite but if you're going to make me choooose i'd have to go with evangelion - rei and asuka are my waifus for lifus, bro (get it? it rhymes!)

[laurenkmyers]

bare as a fresh wound (you have my heart)

what if pete gets shot at the pool side instead of vegas? fic inspired by @vegaspetesupremicy​​​​​‘s amazing artwork (x). ao3

~~~ Vegas

Vegas

“Could you please turn around to see me...?”

Vegas?

At the third mention of his name, Pete’s voice sends shivers down his spine. He says it with such conviction, open and raw- no ‘khun’, no surname. To Pete, he is just… Vegas, laid bare like a fresh wound.

It ignites something inside him, makes him miss the way Pete looks at him. He craves it now more than ever, wants nothing more than to see Pete and wash the sadness away. He wants Pete’s fire back, not a cheap reflection of surrender. 

So he turns. Slow and steady.

Pete’s tentative smile is the first thing he sees through the fog. It warms him from head to toe, defrosting the ice around his heart and his own lips turn up into a ghost of a smile. With Pete at his side, he might actually make it through this.

Sadly, reality kicks back in in the form of Pete’s head snapping in the opposite direction.

“NO!” A command to a fellow bodyguard that comes too late.

 Before Vegas can make sense of anything Pete is turning back to him, shoving him bodily out of the way and covering him with his own-

One. Two. Three. Four.

The gunshots ring through the air and Vegas flinches at each hit, watching in helpless horror as the smile fades from Pete’s beautiful face, cheeks going slack. His eyes rapidly lose focus, but not once does he look away from Vegas. Instead, his eyes flit quickly up and down as if assessing him for the slightest indication of harm. Pete’s smile returns briefly as he realises, with visible relief, that Vegas is safe before sliding gracelessly to the floor.

For a moment, Vegas is left frozen. When he moves it’s with sluggish confusion as he finds himself on his hands and knees, crawling towards Pete, who’s lying beneath him in a sickeningly dark pool of continuously growing blood.

“No no no no, Pete!” 

Vegas barely recognises his own voice as he wails, watching the way the white shirt rapidly changes colour, darkening, saturating, as it clings to Pete’s broken body. Voices blur into the background, footsteps of what he assumes are other guards gather around the scene, but he ignores them all. He reaches over with trembling fingers and helplessly rips Pete’s shirt down the middle, pressing down on one of the many holes seeping with blood that now join the array of scars already littered across Pete’s torso. A choked up sob rips its way out of his lungs. He’s already lost so much, he can’t lose Pete too.

“P-Pete, please, baby, please don’t leave me. I need you. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” he stumbles through words that don’t sound like words, trying to coax Pete awake.

Pete’s eyes flicker open, heavy and languid, and as if to taunt Vegas further Pete smiles up at him- that stupid, dimple-popping smile. Like the crazy fucking asshole he is he smiles through the pain. The smile that simultaneously delighted, annoyed, and excited Vegas, turns bitter in the pit of his stomach, because now it terrifies him. Pete watches him for a moment before his smile brightens even further.

“S-so beautiful in red... love you in red.” Pete slurs almost deliriously.

Pete’s thought process is so ridiculous that it takes Vegas completely by surprise. Vegas isn’t wearing red today? He releases a shocked laugh as he takes in the implications of Pete’s delirium. The crazy bastard is talking about the red blood splattered across his face. His boy really is just as crazy as he is. Currently bleeding out in Vegas’ arms and all he can think to comment on is how pretty Vegas apparently looks covered in blood. Vegas has never met anyone like him before.

“You’re a psycho.” Vegas quips, wiping away the lone tear tracking like a traitor down his cheek as he mimics Pete’s own words, once used on him, back affectionately.  

Pete giggles despite the thinly veiled insult, but when it turns into garbled choking Vegas pulls him onto his lap and further into his chest, shushing and soothing, but as he moves he thinks he hears Pete say ‘you love me anyway’ through the mess and Vegas thinks, ‘yes, I do.’

The next few moments of peace don’t last long as Pete starts to fade in front of him. Pete tries to speak again, words of comfort Vegas thinks, but he can’t hear anything other than the red, hot rage simmering in his gut, at himself, at the world, as he fails one more time, always a failure . His father’s words haunt him even in death.

His biggest failure now is the way the light dims in Pete’s eyes as he fails to save the one person other than his brother that he can say he truly loves. His fists clench painfully in the bunched up fabric of Pete’s ruined shirt.

As Pete trembles in his arms, Vegas wraps his own further around him and tucks his face into the crook of Pete’s neck, laying soft kisses along the line of his hair, whispering his love into Pete’s ear.

“It’s gonna be okay.” Pete says eventually, hoping to comfort him one final time. He says it with such conviction that Vegas almost believes him. But Vegas refuses to see a world in which Pete dying this way- cruelly so that Vegas can live- can be in any way okay. And if he can’t live in a world where Pete lives, no one can.

“No! Not if you leave me! You can’t leave me!” Vegas yells, startling Pete as he tilts his head to look at him.

Pete smiles one final time, “It’s gonna be okay.” He says before he closes his eyes, head slumping back onto Vegas’ shoulder as his entire body goes limp.

The monstrous noise that erupts from Vegas rocks them both and the rage within Vegas’s heart spreads like wildfire through his veins. Vegas closes his eyes, and for the first time since Pete fell he looks away, turning his fury to the group of people now gathered at the poolside. Vegas catalogues them all, one by one. Most of the faces watching the scene are unfamiliar to him, but some ring with familiarity. He examines each face, categorises them in his head, unimportant, not a threat, easily dismissible . But he keeps searching, eyeballing each and every one of them, until he lands on the one face he’s really searching for, the man responsible for Pete’s downfall. Vegas feels momentarily victorious as he catches his eye because the unassuming bodyguard knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that he’s caught in the last moments of his pitiful life.  

Vegas’ expression darkens further, and he delights in the fear he sees seep into the unfamiliar man’s bones as he gently lays Pete’s body safely back down to the ground without breaking his gaze. He grabs Pete’s gun, having already dropped his own, and stands with it pointed directly at the origin of his rage. But the moment he steps forward, all of the other faceless guards spring into action and lift their weapons in his direction. 

Do your worst , he thinks gleefully. 

As long as he takes that bastard down with him, he’ll gladly die right here next to Pete. It’s more than he deserves, but he’ll take it willingly.

“You…” Vegas sneers, “think you can take the man I love and live?”

The guard in question hasn’t even lifted his own weapon, frozen in Vegas’ gaze, trapped and terrified, the prey to Vegas’ predator.

Vegas takes a deliberate step forward, but as he does, the sound of a bullet whizzing through the air catches everyone’s attention. The impact of metal knocks Vegas off-kilter, as he grabs at his shoulder now blazed in agony. He’s impressed by his own resilience to the hit, and as he stands back up he feels the fury creep back in, grounding him.

Vegas lifts his uninjured arm and starts firing his gun, but sadly his aim is off, exhaustion getting the better of him. Despite his struggles he still manages to take down several armed guards on his way to the one he really wants. Getting closer and closer as each bullet hits flesh. Through sheer force of will alone, Vegas is undeterred. Even the guards themselves know he’s untouchable as they choose a more hands on tactic, gun’s forgotten. They continue their defence, but it’s more mechanical, almost as if they’ve been warned against actually killing him. It only confuses and frustrates him more. He punches and elbows and kicks his way through the gathered crowd of guards, headbutting one man who gets too close. 

Vegas is covered in so much blood he can barely see, his, their’s, Pete’s . Heavy and laden with exhaustion, his whole body starts to ache. His muscles give up on him eventually and he finds himself being dragged to the ground. The few men left standing after his rampage turn the barrel of their guns towards him in resolution- a final line of defence- but as they do a surprising voice chimes in, telling them to lower their weapons.

So surprising is the voice that Vegas blinks past the blood and sweat and turns his head up to find the source.

Tankhun Theerapanyakul, in all his black and white furred glory, stands under one of the archways with his bodyguard, Arm? (smart, good aim- could be a real threat), Vegas thinks, still cataloguing.

Arm flanks on one side of Tankhun, gun wavering in Vegas’ direction as he looks at his master with the same confusion Vegas thinks must be across his face. The adrenaline still coursing through his body doesn’t allow him to linger in said confusion for long as he blurts, “What game are you playing, cousin? Isn’t this what you wanted?” he spits maliciously, “or do you want to finish me off yourself?” Vegas thinks out loud, but quickly backtracks with a deranged laugh, “No, that’s not it. You’re too much of a fucking coward. You never did like to get those precious hands of yours dirty, did you? That’s the Minor Family’s job. My job.”

Tankhun rolls his eyes dramatically in reply. His nonchalance feeds further into Vegas’ fury as he continues, “Your poisonous family has taken everything from me. I’ve got nothing left to give, cousin. So please, spare me the theatrics and take some fucking responsibility for once in your goddamn, pitiful life.” Tankhun is about to jump in and say something, Vegas is sure of it, but he cuts him off before he can, “Taking Pete is where this ends.”

And finally, finally Vegas sees something other than nonchalance grace his cousin’s face. He sees a darkness that might even match his own, surprising Vegas again.

“Dear cousin…” He rattles off what Vegas thinks is about to be a long and arduous speech with a Jane Austen-eque air about him, “I find you insufferable. You’re a cruel, cold-hearted, son of a bitch and I do not like you, but begrudgingly you are family-” Vegas scoffs at the word family , but Tankhun carries on despite his best efforts. 

“I watched Pete very closely when he returned to me from his proclaimed extended holiday with his grandma . He thought he was so smart. Pete might be my head bodyguard, but he was always a terrible liar. He came back a changed man. He was hurt, both physically and emotionally, and for that alone I should have you strung up and beaten to death.”

Vegas tries for laughter, though it hits every nerve on its way out of his lungs so when it appears it sounds more like a sob than a laugh. Pitiful and weak, just like him. 

Despite his pity party, stubbornly, Tankhun continues, “And yet, despite everyone knowing exactly where he ended up after he exposed your pitiful plan with…” He gags around the name Tawan , “Pete chose to stay silent. Why? I saw what you did to him. But not once did he even think about implicating you. He lied to father, to Kinn, to Porsche , but most importantly- he lied to me . My most loyal bodyguard. Sacrificed his own life...for you . Tell me why!”

Vegas doesn’t have the time or the patience to explain his and Pete’s fucked up love story right now, so rather, he utilises the distraction his cousin presents to shrug off the two guards still tentatively holding him down and shoots them both in the head point blank before turning his back to his still blabbering cousin and over to the man Vegas is happy to find is still frozen in fear. But as he takes aim he’s once again interrupted by a hysterical Tankhun screaming behind him.

“WILL YOU PLEASE STOP MURDERING MY BODY GUARDS? I’M TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF ALL OF THIS!” Tankhun flaps his arms and stomps his feet like a child mid-tantrum.

Vegas has truly lost all will to live at this point so he ignores, once more, the wailing, and takes his final aim, sending four bullets into the man’s midriff, almost an exact replica of the four bullet holes that now stain Pete’s body.

When he’s finished the job, satisfied that the man truly is dead, he turns back to Tankhun and sinks to his knees with his arms out awaiting his own inevitable end.

“I’m ready, cousin.” Vegas says in final surrender.

This isn’t exactly how he pictured his own death, but despite the less than admirable setting, Vegas is ready to die.

In his final moments he lets himself think of Macau, hopes that wherever his brother ends up, that he’s safe and cared for. The instructions to Nop, loyal from day one, were clear: should Vegas fail to return he’s to take Macau and run, as far away from Thailand as possible. The money Vegas had been stashing intermittently for years in off-shore bank accounts will keep Macau well-looked after, separated entirely from the name Theerapanyakul and all its associations.

Vegas only checks back into the real world when he hears Tankhun let out the most toe-curlingly annoying squawk, wagging an accusing finger in his direction.

“And people call me the drama queen? Get up you idiot, I’m not going to kill you. Up up up!”

But Vegas is done with Tankhun’s bullshit, and if his cousin is too much of a coward to finish him off, he’ll just have to do it himself, like everything else for this family. Readying to take his own life, Vegas turns the gun in his hands under his own chin and closes his eyes- one, two, three, four - but as the seconds tick by a garbled cough interrupts from behind.

Vegas’s eyes pop open. Tankhun’s puffy red cheeks drain of colour, white as a ghost, he raises both hands to his face and shrieks, “PETE, OH MY PETE, YOU’RE ALIVE!!”

Even that feels like a trick. A cruel trick that his cousin might have played once upon a time, but he watches as Tankhun’s face lights up, and suddenly Vegas knows it’s not a trick. Then he hears his name, but Tankhun’s mouth is no longer moving, but his name is being muttered, and it’s from the one voice Vegas could never mistake for anyone else. He whips his head around and sees a very much struggling, but still alive Pete trying to reach out to him. It prompts him into action, dropping the gun as he crawls on wobbling limbs to cup Pete’s face with both hands.

“B-baby?” He soothes, leaning down to take Pete’s bloodied lips into his mouth to kiss him with all the strength left in his trembling body. “I thought you left me...” Vegas whispers against his lips, as stray tears drip down his cheeks.

Pete’s eyes continue blinking sluggishly, “D-didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?” Pete wipes the tears from Vegas’ eyes and smiles, dimples and all.

Maybe Vegas has something to live for after all.

 ***

 The light of the hospital is far too bright.

Pete can barely open his eyes, but when he does finally manage it, the fluorescents force them shut again. He hears a soft chuckle from beside him and his body relaxes back into the fluffy pillow behind his head as the familiarity of the voice seeps into his bones and turns him to jelly.

“Too bright, baby?” Vegas asks knowingly as he lets go of Pete’s hand to get up. The moment he no longer feels Vegas next to him, he panics, letting out a rumbling groan. Vegas must understand his apprehension because he shushes him, reaches back and strokes a thumb along his open palm and says, “I’m just gonna dim the lights, I’m not going far. I’ll be right back.”

Pete relaxes once more, and once the lights have dimmed he tries to pry his eyes open again. He successfully blinks them a few times before his focus shifts over to the blurred vision in red in front of him.

“V-vegas?” He croaks, voice sore and unused.

Vegas smiles at him and nods, “Yeah, baby, I’m here. Drink this.” He brings a straw up to Pete’s mouth and lets him take several sips of the refreshing water, soothing its way down his throat, Pete hums happily. Once Vegas is satisfied Pete has had enough he pulls back, placing the half-finished cup of water onto the bed side table before turning back to look at him with the fondest of smiles. Pete wants to imprint the image on the front of his eyelids to keep forever. He also desperately wants Vegas to kiss him.

“Vegas?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me?”

Vegas’ answering smile burns brighter at the request, soothing away the darker edges of his face. And when Pete asks for what he wants Vegas is happy to comply. Especially now, as he leans forward to capture Pete’s lips between his. He takes it slow, tentative at first, until Pete pushes forward and bites down on Vegas’ bottom lip, relishing the groan Vegas lets slip into his mouth at the action. The thrill of being able to make Vegas react in such a way settles all the what ifs plaguing Pete’s mind as he sinks into the kiss like he was made for only this.

The kiss lingers on, getting slightly more heated as Vegas loses himself in it too. Pete tries to move further into Vegas, not caring for the wrinkled silk of Vegas’ shirt as he bunches the fabric between his fist, the desire to be closer replaces logic and precaution for want and need and more. But the moment Pete twitches in pain, Vegas pulls back, despite Pete’s whine of disapproval. Vegas breathes a soft apology and then takes his time just looking at Pete. So long, in fact, does he look, that when he finally utters words Pete isn’t sure he hears him correctly, and his face must display what he can’t say because Vegas repeats himself with a bit more confidence.

“You really scared me, you know?” Vegas phrases it like a question, but there is a hint of accusation that Pete picks up on immediately. His first thought is to jump straight to defensive, but the way Vegas is regarding him, with sad, unguarded eyes stops him in his tracks. Pete understands more than anyone what it takes for Vegas to expose himself in such a vulnerable way, and he never wants to make Vegas feel like he can’t be anything but honest with him. The phrase tattooed along his hip burns as a reminder every day of the fact. Full transparency. He’d never deny Vegas this. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you, but I’m not sorry for saving you.” Pete settles with, speaking his truth. Because he knows full well he’d do it all over again given the choice.

Vegas frowns, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. “Don’t do it again.”

Pete smiles back sweetly knowing he can’t make that promise. He tells Vegas as much, “I won’t stand by and watch you die, Vegas. You’re too important to me.”

“And you’re the most important person in my life!” Vegas proclaims with a hint of panic in his tone. He sits back down and lowers his voice, slightly embarrassed by his outburst. “Without you…I’ve got nothing left.”

Pete lets out a deep sigh, understanding, but despite that still says, “That’s not true. You’ve still got Macau.”

But Vegas is already shaking his head. “Macau is better off without me.”

“Don’t you think I should have a say in what’s best for me?” A red faced Macau says as he makes his presence known, hands firmly on his hips in a striking resemblance of Vegas’ stubbornness. 

Pete notices the deep sigh Vegas releases before he turns to look at his brother, preparing to explain his pain away. But before he gets the chance Macau has made his way across the room and is landing a soft punch to his brother's (uninjured, Pete takes note) shoulder. Vegas recoils in faux-hurt and his mouth drops open in surprise. 

“That’s for trying to send me away, asshole.”

“It was for your own good. I did it to protect you.” Vegas sounds firm to the untrained ear, but Pete knows that he and Macau are probably the only two people in the world who can tell the difference.

Macau doesn’t let up, that stubborn Theerapanyakul blood ringing true, “I don’t need you to protect me from this, Hia. Dad’s dead. Good fucking riddance.”

“Macau!” Vegas scolds, but sounds far too fond to make it sound genuine. 

Macau smirks, but his face turns serious once more before he says, “I’m not a helpless child anymore, V. Stop treating me like one. I’m a Theerapanyakul. I’m part of this world whether you like it or not. ” 

Vegas sighs in defeat. “I know that, Cau. I know I can’t protect you from it forever. But I wanted you to have a normal childhood. Away from all the Mafia bullshit. You deserve that.” 

“You already gave me that, hia.” Macau smiles fondly, reminiscing wistfully on the chance Vegas granted him, but his face quickly changes, hardening back into determination. “But now that I’m an adult I need you to stop pushing me away. Let me be part of your world. I just want to help give you the chance you never got as a kid. With dad gone you can have the life you deserve.”

Macau smiles knowingly as Vegas lets out a soft, choked off noise. He immediately moves to pull Vegas into a hug which Vegas reciprocates without hesitation, resting his head on Macau’s chest. 

Pete almost wishes he could step away and give them their moment, but he’s also selfish in his desires and bearing witness to the love the siblings have for each other warms his heart. When Macau pulls back, he has a slight shine to his eyes, betraying the depth of his emotions. Pete looks to Vegas then and sees the same thing reflected in his eyes and the warmth surrounding his heart spreads all over his body. He’s never been more thankful for Macau and the never-ending love he has for Vegas, who has had a severe lack of it in his life. 

Pete sniffles loudly, his own emotions betraying him as he inevitably breaks up the lingering sweetness. Macau turns to regard him in confusion, almost like he’d forgotten Pete’s presence. He considers him for a minute longer before blurting, “Is someone gonna tell me when the fuck this happened?” deliberately eyeing his and Vegas’ joined hands.

It’s only when Pete looks down that he realises that Vegas never let go, and has been subconsciously rubbing his thumb along his palm during the entire exchange with his brother. 

“Like, don’t get me wrong, I’m super grateful that you saved my brother from those bullets- Nop filled me in-” Macau answers before Pete can interrupt,  “-but, don’t you work for the Main Family? Last time I saw you, you were doing a terrible job of spying on us for them. Wait- did you betray the Main Family for Vegas? Are you one of us now? Can I call you P’Pete? I have so many questions.” Macau babbles on and it prompts a laugh out of both himself and Vegas, who just shrugs his shoulders in a gesture that clearly says, ‘your turn’. 

Pete steels himself, “I didn’t betray the Main Family- I quit.” 

Vegas’s head snaps back to him so quickly that Pete fears he might have given himself whiplash.

“You…what?” Vegas asks, voice confused and a little unstable.

“I quit.” Pete repeats, clear and concise, leaving no room for any confusion. And yet confusion clearly remains because Vegas is staring at him like he’s grown a second head or something.

“You…quit?” Vegas tries again, clearly struggling.

Pete is about to take pity on him when Macau once again makes his presence known, “He just said that, hia. Are you okay? Do you need to get checked for concussion or something?”

Vegas shoos Macau away after his unsuccessful attempts at checking on him. “No, Cau, I’m fine. I’m just trying to…understand. Why, Pete?”

Pete feels very exposed, both Theerapanyakul brothers are staring at him, expecting him to expose himself even further, but all he can muster is a shrug and a quiet, “you know why.”

Vegas loses his breath again, mouth slightly open as he swallows, allowing the implications of Pete’s words to wash over him. When realisation hits his brow furrows prettily and it makes Pete’s lips turn up in a smile. “You’re really gonna make me say it?” He asks jokingly. 

Without breaking eye contact Vegas says, “Macau, can you give us a minute?”

Macau scoffs, “Absolutely not. I wanna hear him say it too.”

“Cau…please?” Vegas pleads, still refusing to look away from Pete. It makes Pete’s heart skip several beats. 

“Ugh! Fine.” Pete thinks he feels Macau turn to walk away from them but as he does he throws one last line back at the two of them, “I knew it the second I walked in here and saw the way he was looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. You really are an idiot sometimes, hia.” 

Pete should feel embarrassed by that, but he can’t quite get his body to calm the fuck down enough to process anything other than the way Vegas is currently devouring him with his eyes. Saying all the things he knows he can’t say in front of his little brother. 

The moment the door slides shut Vegas is on him, tentativeness and hesitation thrown out the window as Vegas’ lips find his once more, the fire that always sizzles beneath the surface when they’re together ignites as sparks lick their way up Pete’s spine. Even the twinges of pain throbbing away on his chest don’t faze him anymore, they only add to the fuel of his pounding heart. 

Vegas draws back eventually, but he doesn’t go far, resting his head on Pete’s as he allows oxygen back into his lungs. As much as Pete wants to continue kissing him, he’s thankful for the air that rushes back into his own chest. 

“Tell me.” Vegas breathes hotly against his lips. “Tell me why you quit the Main Family, Pete.”

Pete’s heart flutters in his chest, the machine he’s currently hooked up to spikes hard, and for a split second Pete panics, wanting to fall back on old habits, giggle his way out of it, crack a joke about Kinn annoying him into quitting, tell a lie with a smile. He opens his eyes and takes one look at Vegas and he knows he won’t. Surrender never felt this sweet. He feels split open, walls crumbling, brick by brick by the fond look staring back at him. The incessant beeping of the machine fades into white noise, because nothing else matters but Vegas, and the way he makes Pete feel alive . The man Pete willingly took several bullets for, and would do again. The man who ripped him wide open, literally and figuratively, exposing all of his ugly parts, only to stitch him back together, one thread at a time. The man he loves. Body and soul. 

“Because I love you, Vegas.” Pete holds strong, “How can I be loyal to them when everything I am, is yours ?” 

Vegas grabs his face in both hands and holds him close, caressing his damp cheek with his thumb and replies, “You’re more than I deserve, but fuck, I love you too.” 

Pete is about to protest Vegas’ obvious self-deprecation when the force of Vegas’ lips slide back over his, compelling his head quiet as his body submits to total salvation.

Pete’s mind is still very much lost in Vegas’ kiss when he realises far too late that not only are Vegas’s lips no longer on his own but Macau’s head has popped back through the door and he’s cooing over at them, “Damn, you guys move fast. I was eavesdropping and assumed after you both dropped the L-bomb it was safe to come back in. Anyway, welcome to the family, my in-law.” He directs at Pete with barely concealed glee. 

The kid continues rambling away as he climbs up onto the bed behind where Vegas is still perched, snuggling close. When Pete’s brain eventually clicks back into the room he lets out a genuine giggle and tries to tuck his face away from them both shyly, but Vegas turns his head back to face him.

“No more hiding, Pete.” 

No more hiding. 

Got it. 

Vegas leans forward to kiss his dimpled cheek and Pete feels his smile grow. He thinks he might finally be ready to start living.

Whatever that means. 

Pete’s ready to find out.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

digging through my many unfinished snippets of ofmd fics that i wrote between s1 and s2, and i thought this one was pretty diverting, so i'm posting it here! why not!

this was going to be the beginning of one where stede and ed are cursed by super awkwardness after reconciling ... until they get THE MOST DANGEROUS GAMED together by antoinette (who survived the boat fire but tragically lost her brother-husband) and her boy toy lackeys bret and jemaine, and rediscover their groove in the process!!!! i honestly might still write some version of this because i need mel antoinette and bret and jemaine to most dangerous game ed and stede and the crew. i simply need it like oxygen.

(i do really love that stede genuinely forgave ed for destroying all his stuff and didn't care about it in season two, for the record. but this was pre-season two me wondering, what if he couldn't help but be a little grumpy about it?)

***

(this was going to be a sequel to this fic for convenience's sake, ergo the references to the party etc.!)

***

“So this is it,” Stede murmurs to himself, gazing out to sea. “Happily ever after.”

Ed’s back, and Ed again. They defeated Izzy in a spectacular show of swordplay and now that miserable prat’s rowed off alone in a dinghy, hopefully in a way that will stick this time. The Revenge is Stede’s again, and the full crew has returned home to it.

It doesn’t get much more happily ever after than this.

Which has Stede wondering why life currently feels so awfully awkward.

+++

“Take it,” says Stede, when his and Ed’s fingers brush both reaching for the last piece of toast at breakfast.

“Ah, no, I couldn’t,” says Ed, pulling back like Stede’s fingers are on fire.

“Please!” says Stede. “I’m your host.”

“Yeah, but I stole your ship and took it on a joyride of destruction for a few weeks there and threw all your stuff in the sea,” says Ed, “so in a way, I’m your host.”

“Truly,” says Stede, sipping his tea from a rusting tin cup, “I had completely forgotten about that.”

“Had you?”

“Haven’t given it a moment’s thought in days. Let bygones be bygones, that’s what I say! Please. Help yourself.”

“You always like three pieces, though,” says Ed. “I don’t want to mess up your whole breakfast vibe–”

“JUST TAKE IT,” Stede snaps.

“Right. Sweet as.” Ed somehow, quite incredibly, shoves the entire piece of toast in his mouth at once. “Mmmphfff,” he says through chewing. “Scrumptious.”

“Is it?” says Stede, in careful gentlemanly tones. “I’m so glad.”

They smile placidly at each other.

+++

For the record, they haven’t kissed a second time yet. Or touched much at all, save for patching up each other’s wounds scored in the fight with Izzy. The fingers brushing over the toast is about as hot as the action has gotten. They have all the time in the world, Stede reminds himself, rather a lot, as his psyche unravels faster than a shoddily made scarf.

+++

The crew has one request of Stede, and it’s that Ed stay locked up in the captain’s cabin for a while.

“But he’s perfectly normal again!” Stede protests. “That whole descent-into-darkness snafu, we’ve worked through that.”

“He seems perfectly normal again,” Lucius allows. “But maybe you shouldn’t be the authority on this, as you’re the only one he didn’t try to kill.”

“And me,” Frenchie pipes up.

“And me,” Jim admits.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the hot ones psycho Blackbeard wanted for his cool new crew,” Pete says bitterly. “You can stop reminding us about it already.”

“What?” Stede exclaims, indignant. “He tried to kill me loads of times!”

“He swordfought you once, locked you in a closet, and then took you on a date to a party,” Lucius says.

“And he could’ve tried to kill me at any time during that party,” says Stede, “let me tell you.”

“Did he?” Lucius asks, hands on hips.

“No,” Stede admits reluctantly. “He played pirates with my son, and then instead of making me go back to the ship with him, he released me as his prisoner.”

Everyone groans.

“That’s the point, Captain,” says Lucius. “You’re his weak spot. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to start feeling stabby around the rest of us.”

“He’s not! He’s really mellowed.”

“Then let’s prove it, yeah?” says Oluwande, taking over so Lucius can really commit himself to judgmental faces. “Just keep him isolated for a bit, so we can make sure he’s not a threat to us.”

“I don’t care if he is,” says Buttons. “Let me at ‘im. I’ll chomp one of those pretty cheeks at the slightest prevarication.”

“No!” Stede says.

“Is that code fer yes?”

“No, that’s no! Buttons, I mean it. He’s got a very good face, and we’re going to keep it just the way it is.”

“Ah, fine,” says Buttons, deflating. Wee John pats him on the shoulder.

Stede takes this as the end of the conversation, and walks away. He pauses once he’s out of sight and listens.

“Do you really think Blackbeard’s going to snap again?” Olu asks.

“Probably not,” says Lucius, “but those two have got to fuck soon or the energy on this ship will never recover.”

Everyone murmurs in agreement.

Stede frowns.

+++

“Oh, sure,” says Ed. “Absolutely. I’d love to be your prisoner.”

“I know it might sound insulting–”

“Nah, just sensible. I really went off the deep end for a while there. I mean, I left most of those guys to die on a tiny island.”

“Well, when you put it like that.”

“I’d hate to be in your way, though.”

Stede gives him a stiff grin. He’s starting to worry his face might get stuck this way. “Oh, no. You couldn’t be.”

Ed grimaces politely back.

+++

Becoming a better person always sounds so clear in theory: as if it’s some new stage of existence you step into, like death, and never come back from.

Logically, Stede doesn’t mind that all his beloved things are gone, that his library has been wasted (unless there are some really bookish mermaids out there). What are things, really, compared to people? Not so much.

But not nothing, either, the small niggling voice in his head starts to say as the days go on.

+++

[After somehow finding themselves overboard and having to swim to the nearest island! Unsurprisingly, I skipped writing the complicated action sequence!]

“Oh my God, we’ve done it,” Stede pants when they finally reach the shore. “We’re alive!”

“Was there ever any doubt?” Ed asks.

“Quite a bit, yeah,” Stede can’t help admitting.

Ed groans. “Yeah, definitely. I’m really out of shape, man.”

“Maybe we should work some daily calisthenics into the schedule. If we make it out of here, that is.”

“I’m down for that.”

“Where are we?”

They take a moment to survey the beach. The narrow shoreline is quickly gobbled up into dense jungle.

But then, in the distance:

“Lights!” Stede yells, pointing.

+

“Well, this is a charming set-up, isn’t it??” Stede exclaims as they take in the sight of the sparkling chateau. 

Ed whistles. “Wouldn’t mind retiring here, putting my feet up.”

“It’s probably dangerous,” Stede adds, a tad reluctantly.

“Oh yeah. Nobody lives on their own island because they’re so great with people.”

“But all the same, there’s probably food in there. And beds.”

“We’re pirates,” Ed reminds him. “We can hold our own, can’t we?”

“Yeah! This weird freak with an island should be afraid of us!”

“That’s the spirit,” says Ed, knocking his knuckles against Stede’s.

In spite of all the recent nearly dying, Stede feels a surge of sudden bliss. They smile at each other–

And then the gigantic door swings open.

“Why, hello there!” says Stede brightly, going into good manners mode. “We’re two weary, lost travelers who happened across your lovely island–”

He realizes there’s no one there.

“Okay, I don’t like that a bit,” he declares, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s not promising,” Ed agrees grimly.

They step inside and are immediately met by a blazing chandelier in the foyer and the sound of a harpsichord being played in a distant room. The house is full of beautiful things; artwork on the walls, vases on tables. Stede feels suddenly, pleasantly dizzy.

“Oh, my,” he breathes.

“Pretty legit,” Ed declares.

“Why, if it eesn’t Sir Godfrey Thornrose and Jeff,” comes a woman’s voice, with a woman’s familiar obnoxiously fancy accent.

“Oh, God,” Stede mutters, dread filling him.

“Passive aggression,” Ed whispers.

And sure enough – even though the last time they saw her, it was on a ship that was swiftly burning to ash – standing there, looking as sparkly and unpleasant as before, is Antoinette.

+++

(dun dun DUNNNN!)

[jimothy-hopkins]

Meddling Kids, XII

WARNING! This work/series contains mentions of slut shaming, EDs, gore, implied torture, implied SA, SH, violence, and many other things that can trigger some viewers. I will also mention that this work does NOT intend to glorify, romanticize, normalize, or promote ANY of these behaviors or ideas. That is not who I am and that is not what I stand for. Please do not take that message away when you read this.

I finally got my motivation back again. They fuck shit UP in this one.

Jimmy and Pete sat across from one another, picking at their questionable lunches. The air was oddly quiet. They’d been waiting for their third partner in crime to join them for the last ten minutes. It wasn’t like Gary to be late. He exchanged looks with Pete, who raised his brows and flicked his eyes to the wide-open cafeteria door.

“Do you think we should look for Gary?” Jimmy asked, pushing away the sweet soft ground beef mess meant to be a soft taco.

“Do you think we should?” Pete responded.

“That’s why I asked you, you idiot,” he huffed.

Pete sighed, getting up to throw away the leftovers of his packed lunch. Jimmy took that as a yes and threw away his meal. Good riddance.

Jimmy threw a wink to Trent, who grinned and blew him a kiss in return. Pete rolled his eyes at Jimmy’s flirtatious antics, pushing the heavy doors open to exit the main building. Above, the stale sun shined on them. Only Bullworth Academy could make a perfect sunny day seem so bleak. The energy shifted as they walked inside the boys' dorms, where a few nerds sat on the couch watching Bill Nye as a desperate form of entertainment.

They disregarded the others that greeted them, opting to walk to the far end of the hall, where the lights were flickering or dead. Multiple cobwebs nested in the corners of the high ceiling, and dust bunnies curled into the floorboards. This place needed a serious revamp. Thank the gods Carbblesnitch decided to finally hire a construction company to renovate and expand the boy’s dorms. Jimmy was tired of having to use the locker room showers every morning. He was happy, even if it meant Jimmy would soon be woken by heavy construction and bear-bellied men yelling for whatever tool or jackass they needed to help.

Jimmy grabbed the doorknob, letting himself and Pete in unannounced.

“Hey bitch, why’re you late?” He raised a brow.

Gary suddenly jumped, yelling in surprise as he yanked on his signature leather armband to hide away his nasty habit.

“You morons ever heard of knocking?” Gary shouted.

“Well, we got worried,” Pete shrugged.

“Yeah, you’re not late, dude,” Jimmy added.

“Well, for your information, I have court-mandated therapy today,” the brunette grumbled.

“Oh,” Pete replied with wide eyes.

Jimmy stayed silent, nodding in acceptance as the gears turned in his head. He thought of Heartland Academy and Mr. Joiner, Daniel Lamb’s alias. He loosely remembered discussing hospital records. With Daniel’s past of violent murder, maybe they could find something within Happy Volts.

Well, the worst Gary could say was no.

“Can we come with?” Jimmy asked.

“Why? Wanna hear my sob story or look at the crackheads in the rehab program?” Gary grinned.

“Maybe a bit of both. We could use the free entertainment,” Jimmy replied with a neutral shrug.

“Alright, you can come, just don’t act dumb,” Gary said, exiting his dorm.

Instead of taking a reasonable route, Gary ushered them to follow from a weird backway. It was almost as if Gary didn’t want anyone to know. Jimmy could see why. The entire school falsely labeled him as an evil sociopath. He’d had plenty of moments where he wanted to sock someone in the jaw for talking shit. Who the fuck were any of those kids to diagnose his best friend? Sure, Gary could be a mythic bitch sometimes, but he was Jimmy’s best friend.

The trio ducked into bushes, and once away from Bullworth’s earshot, Jimmy spoke up.

“We’re getting that psychos’ records.”

“What?” Gary blinked.

“We’re gonna sneak in and try to get Daniel Lamb’s records,” Jimmy elaborated.

“Are you fucking crazy?” Pete asked, cutting between the two as they walked.

“Do you want to put an end to this whole murder mystery shit?” Jimmy replied.

Pete stammered, thinking, but Gary beat him to an answer.

“Yes.”

“You got a method to your madness?’ Pete asked.

“We sneak in and get it, boom,” Jimmy replied.

“No, those orderlies will see you. They have cameras in there. They’re old, but still cameras,” Gary explained. “You’ll have to sneak past orderlies and find uniforms in the laundry room. It’s in the back, but be quiet.”

“Got it,” Jimmy nodded while Pete nervously took an interest in his shoes and the dirt road.

They made a turn, Gary pointing ahead to an area covered by bushes and foliage, sending Pete and Jimmy on their way before he dashed to the gate.

Pete and Jimmy stood back, crouching as they watched Gary flash an ID card to an orderly, who opened the gate to let him in. He then entered the facility, an orderly at his side to escort him.

Jimmy and Pete sat there. It was a long twenty minutes they waited. Doing this was possibly one of the riskier things they’d done besides running into psychotic clowns and a drug gang. Hell, what hadn’t the three of them done? They should all collectively be in the county jail next to Johnny and Norton. Jimmy looked up, seeing the tree. He figured Gary was well into a therapy session about now. He turned to Pete.

“Can you climb trees?” He asked.

“You’re not serious about this, right? Can I just look out?’ Pete pleaded.

“No, I can’t sort through files and kick ass at once. Now climb the stupid tree,” Jimmy snapped.

Pete scrambled, struggling to use his core and upper body muscles to pull himself up the tree. Jimmy soon followed, letting out a quiet laugh as Pete landed hard on his ass. The pair crawled towards a bush, watching an orderly slowly pace, boredom and disinterest in his eyes. Once he fully turned his back, Jimmy and Pete ran for it, getting inside.

Gary hated many things, but therapy had to be up there.

He nervously fiddled with his hands struggling to make eye contact as Dr. Bambillo made notes on him. Gary felt more like a specimen than a patient as if he was something to be studied and not understood. He didn’t feel human here. He felt like a made-up villain out of some weird sadistic writer’s horror novel.

Dr. Bamillo cleared his throat, causing Gary to move his grey eyes to meet the man before him.

“Now, Gary, have you had any thoughts of hurting yourself? Or others, perhaps?” He asked with a raised brow.

Gary had to think for a moment. Did he want to go inpatient? Or shove it down and cork it? He couldn’t decide. Both options were terrible, but he had to pick his poison. He’d rather die than get locked up with the nut jobs here.

“No, I haven’t. Why?” He asked, his voice shallow.

“Well, I’ve seen a few of your behavior reports lately. You show apathy for your education and peers. You don’t seem to care. How does that look to you? Considering your brothers’ circumstances and your parents' name. Surely it’d be a shame to cost them both sons.”

Gary sat back, gritting his teeth as Dr. Bambillo ran his egotistical mouth. He hated this man with every bone, organ, and blood vessel he had. Gary always wondered why he left these sessions feeling worse than when he came. Gary wanted to go home. Hell, he’d rather be at Bullworth.

“Time and time again, I’ve read you have this loud, almost narcissistic confidence about you. Yet, when you’re here, it goes away. Perhaps it humbles you that someone with more knowledge and power is in the room? Does it bother you?” he asked.

“No sir,” he mumbled.

Dr. Bambillo looked Gary up and down, prying apart every weakened, cracked piece of emotional armor he’d built. Gary felt so small. All he could do was look away and pray to any god or higher power that would listen to make this all go away. Dr. Bambillo had long decided on him being crazy. That Gary had somehow gotten brain damage from falling off a horse one too many times, and now he was a screw loose from killing himself or others.

Just as Bambillo went to torment Gary with another invasive, unprofessional question, Gary popped.

“I’m not crazy! Stop it! Just stop it! I’m a normal fucking kid! I swear to god!” He screamed. “I’m not traumatized, I’m not depressed, and I’m not fucking crazy! Stop telling me I’m crazy! I know what I am, and I’m not some brain-dead sociopath that wants to kill people! I don’t want drugs, and I don’t want your stupid court-mandated therapy that doesn’t do shit!”

Dr. Bambillo’s eyes were wide, but his brows quickly furrowed as he reached for his pen to write.

That’s when the power cut, sending them and the rest of the facility into pitch blackness.

“SHit!” Jimmy yelled, fumbling with the other switches in the fuse box.

“What did you do!?” Pete yelled, pulling down his orderly mask.

“I don’t fucking know!” Jimmy hollered.

They scrambled to get out of the halls. Alarms and red lights were flashing as the cells opened one by one. The overjoyed, sadistic screams from the isolation unit echoed down the hall as helpless orderlies cried for security that was no match for the criminally insane. For the first time since he was a child, Jimmy felt genuine terror. Pete was also pretty sure he pissed himself.

It didn’t take long for them to yank an emergency exit open, scrambling as they rounded to their tunnel.

Petey collapsed in exhaustion, trembling as old, yellowed files scattered on the ground below them. Jimmy huffed, listening to the loud alarms and desperate screams.

Looking up, he saw a figure barreling toward them at full speed. Jimmy instantly reacted with a punch, sending the living body over into the dirt. A familiar yowl of pain escaped them.

“You moron!” Gary yelled, holding his now bloody nose.

“Shit! My bad,” Jimmy said, pulling the taller male to a stand and offering his mask as a tissue.

“Bitch! Fuck you mean ‘my bad’? You just released a bunch of criminally insane men!�� Pete screeched, picking himself up off the ground.

“You let those maniacs loose?” Gary asked, alarmed.

“I didn’t mean to! I thought the switch was for the cameras, not the power!” Jimmy defended.

“Well, let’s fucking go ‘cause if we sit here, we’ll be some nice human leather!” Gary said as he shoved Pete forward before he ran.

Jimmy followed suit. Where had they gone wrong?

[fistful-of-hammers]

Charlie and Mac doing their little freight train thing when Psycho Pete returns is so fucking cute 😭

[badnew2005]

when you’re talking about the tragedy of it’s always sunny you HAVE to look at psycho pete returns

[a-nice-egg-offering]

Favourite iasip episodes edit series

01x03: Underage drinking a national concern

01x07: Charlie Got Molested

02x03: Dennis and Dee go on welfare

02x08: The gang runs for office

02x10: Dennis and Dee get a new dad

03x04: The gang gets held hostage

03x08: Frank sets sweet Dee on fire

03x09: Sweet Dee is dating a retarded person

03x10: Mac is a serial killer

03x15: The gang dances their asses off

04x03: Mac’s banging the waitress

04x04&05: Mac and Charlie die

04x10: The gang cracks the Liberty bell

04x12: The nightman cometh

05x04: The gang gives Frank an intervention

05x09: Mac and Dennis break up

05x10: The D.E.N.N.I.S system

06x04: Mac’s big break

06x07: Who got Dee pregnant?

06x09: Charlie Kelly king of the rats

06x11: Dee gives birth

07x01: Franks pretty woman

07x02: The gang goes to the jersey shore

07x03: Frank Reynolds’ little beauties

07x07: Chardee Macdennis the game of games

07x09: The gang gets trapped

07x12&13: The highschool reunion

08x02: The Maureen Ponderosa wedding massacre

08x04: The gang gets analysed

08x06: Franks back in business

08x07: Charlie rules the world

08x09: Reynolds vs Reynolds the cereal defence

09x01: The gang broke Dee

09x03: The gang tries desperately to win an award

09x05: Mac day

09x06: The gang saves the day

09x07: The gang gets quarantined

09:09: The gang squashes their beefs

10x03: Psycho Pete returns

10x06: The gang misses the boat

11x01: Chardee macdennis 2 electric boogaloo

11x02: Frank falls out the window

11x05: Mac and Dennis move to the suburbs

11x07: McPoyle vs Ponderosa the trial of the century

11x09&10: The gang goes to hell

12x02: The gang goes to a water park

12x03: Old lady house a situation comedy

12x05: Making Dennis Reynolds a murderer

12x06: Hero or hate crime?

12x09: The gang tends bar

13x01: The gang makes paddy’s great again

13x02: The gang escapes

13x04: Times up for the gang

13x06: The gang solves the bathroom problem

13x07: The gang does a clip show

13x10: Mac finds his pride

14x03: Dee day

14x04: The gang chokes

14x05: The gang texts

14x06: The janitor always mops twice

14x10: Waiting for big Mo

15x03: The gang buys a roller rink

15x04: The gang replaces Dee with a monkey

15x05-08: The gang in Ireland