#still obsessed with them just calling him ' “police state!” kid'

[dim20-stims]

could you make a stimboard for Max Durden from junior year?

"Police State!"

x x x - x 🕷️ x - x x x

[lunajay33]

Why Me?

•🤎🐺🪵🍂🌑•

Summary: Bella and Y/n are twins but when Bella and Renee moved away you stayed with Charlie always growing closer with the people around La push, but when Bella comes back it’s like everything is flipped around, Bella becomes distant obsessed with the cullens, you find solace with the guys at the beach but things change after the first year and suddenly you’re all alone, will anyone come back, will Paul your best friend, your forever crush come save you from depression

Pairing: Paul Lahote x f!reader

Warnings: Depression, suicidal thoughts

Part.2

•Masterlist•

It was a simple life in forks but I loved it this is where I’m meant to be, I can’t explain it but it calls to me, the rainy weather, the cool breeze, the calm beach at La push, even my group of friends made my life feel complete

Plus I had dad or as Bella called him, Charlie, after mom and Bella left when I was only 4 it was usually just the two of us, suppers out at the cafe or cozy nights at Jacob’s as they watched the game, I kept him a float after the devastating heart break even thought I was young, mom tried to take me with them the night everything happened but I held on to dad screaming for him to keep me, and here we are today just me and him it was perfect everything was exactly how it should be, then we got the call Bella was moving back I was nervous at first I haven’t seen her since she stopped visiting years ago

“I’ll be back later, be safe and if you go out leave a note okay sweetie?” Dad stated as he picked up the keys to his police cruiser

“Okay dad! Drive safe” we shared a hug before he left leaving me alone and anytime I was free I’d either walk through the forest behind my house or hang out at the beach with Paul or Jacob

I pulled on a coat and hiking boots heading to the over grown trees lining the backyard, the weather is not too cold but it’s still over cast, the trees are lined with a thick moss the ground littered with pine cones and varying animals tracks

Sometimes I’d find Paul trying to blow off steam out here so hopefully I’ll come across him today needing my best friend right now with all the stress I’ve been feeling about Bella’s return

After a bit more walking I heard groaning as I approached the cliff we sometimes would hang out on, I rounded a tree and saw Paul sitting there huffing and puffing, he’s always had anger issues growing up but I was always there for him and for some reason I was the only one to calm him down

Silently I sat next to him laying my head on his shoulder his arm instinctly wrapping around my waist quickly finding comfort in each others company

“Remember when we were nine and you were so angry that Jacob took my ice cream, you pushed him into a puddle and got me a new ice cream and I had to keep you calm away from Jake the rest of my party” I stated laughing remember how cute he was and that’s the day my crush on him started which grew over the years but I’d never tell him that, I can’t risk what I have with him

He sighed squeezing my hip his breathing calming down

“I couldn’t help it you were so excited all day for your ice cream and that look in your face when he took it mad me so mad, you know I hate seeing you upset”

“Don’t get soft on me Lahote” he huffed out a laugh

“What’s wrong Paul? Anything I can do to help?” I asked finally looking up at him

He looked hesitant his eyes looking anywhere but me, I drew my hand through his long beautiful black hair trying to ease his worries

“Just a lot lately, things with the older tribe members don’t worry about it, how about you Bella’s coming today you still nervous?”

“Yeah what if we’re not like how we were as kids, what if she doesn’t like me anymore I mean I know I can be a burden sometimes but I just want my sister”

“Hey what did I tell you about talking about yourself like that, she’s gonna love you and you’re not a burden why do you think the guys and everyone around you loves you?”

Sometimes when he’d get sweet talking like this it only made me love him more, feeling the blush spread across my cheeks I pushed his arm playfully trying to hide my feelings

“You’ll always be here for me right Paul, even when we both have stuff going on you’ll be here?” My hands fiddling together

“Always”

It’s been a week since Bella’s moved back and it’s been nice, we reconnected and talked before bed most nights just catching up on everything, and it was nice to have a friend at school now, I never really had friend at the forks school, I tried but no one ever bothered, plus all my friends down at La push is better than anyone here

Sitting at my usual lunch table by the windows I glance over seeing Bella with her whole new table of friends, she said she’d sit with me if it bothered me to be alone but I didn’t want to get in the way of her making new friends plus I saw how she’d rather be with them it was the perfect spot to look at the cullens, who she’d make goggly eyes at every lunch

But the day dragged on as usual but when that final bell rang I was free, I ran out the door heading straight to where Paul usually parked to pick me up but he wasn’t there which was strange he was never late

“Hey y/n do you need a ride?” Bella called from a few spots down waiting at her truck

“Oh ummm no I should be fine maybe he’s just running late” I waved her off just hoping he was okay

I sat on the stairs watching as the cars emptied the parking lot one by one till there was no one but me and the setting sun

I sighed realizing he wasn’t coming so I started walking home, once I got through the door I dialed Paul on the house phone my heart beating anxiously

The tones rang one after another but no answer so I called Jacob instead and of course he answered immediately

“Hello Black residence” his chipper voice always made me smile he was such a sweet guy

“Hi Jake it’s y/n Paul didn’t pick me up today and I was wondering do you know if he’s okay?”

“Oh no I haven’t heard…..” I heard a mumbled voice behind him then the voice changed

“Who is this?” And I recognized that voice it was Sam Uley

“Hey Sam it’s me y/n swan! Ummm sorry if I interrupted something I was just calling worried about Paul, have you seen him around?”

“Oh he’s gonna be under the weather for a while he’s caught a stomach bug, we don’t wanna risk you getting sick too”

“Can I visit just to drop off soup or something?” My heart ached knowing what he’d say

“I’m sorry honey not yet, it’ll be awhile just give him time”

“But……but he’s my best friend” my voice wavered haven’t never being apart from him for a long period of time there was this pull to him I always felt so being apart felt…….wrong

“Just give it time honey, I’ve gotta go, goodnight” and with that he hung up the phone felt heavy in my hand

I’ve seen Paul every day since he got his licence, he’s a year older so when he got it he promised to pick me up everyday to make sure I was safe, Bella can drive me now but it’s not the same after a long day I’d get in his truck and cuddle up to his side and drive down to the beach and relax

“Sweetie why are you crying?” Dad broke me out of my thoughts as he hung up the phone

“Oh it’s nothing just….pauls sick I’m just worried”

“That kid is strong he’ll be just fine” he smiled patting my shoulder before he got a soda from the fridge

The days dragged on and I thought he’d atleast pick up the phone when I called or even call me but nothing, not a word and now a month has gone by I thought I’d have Bella but she quickly became all involved with Edward Cullen, the older member of the tribe weren’t quite fond of their family they told me stories but I thought it was all just legends never thinking too much about them

So now without Bella and Paul I was alone, my world felt flipped upside down, everything use tk be perfect but now I felt ripped of who I was, I fell hollow, drained, the all crushing depression, I can’t sleep evident by the dark circles under my eyes, I can barely eat shown by the hollows covering my body and the clothes that hung on my body, I felt like I’m dying, I’m fading

I’ve never been through a break up but this can’t be how it feels this has to be something different, something more painful

School was like hell, even worse than before, Bella convinced me some days to sit with her and the cullens and Alice was always trying to cheer me up but nothing was ever permanent

I picked at my rice as Emmett bragged about how he beat Edward in a baseball game

“Still not feeling well?” Jasper asked next to me, the first time I’ve ever heard him speak

“I think somethings wrong with me, I think I’m dying” everyone stopped what they were talking about and eyes were on me but I didn’t care anymore

“Why would you say that y/n?” Alice spoke

I sighed excusing myself from the table walking away, they couldn’t understand but maybe the elders could, I called dad and he said he’d be at the school to pick me up seeing as work was going slow

A few minutes later the cruiser pulled up and I got in the front seat

“Sick again?” He asked worry written all over his face

I’ve been calling him to pick me up from school a lot, either from spells of nausea throwing up or just the overwhelming depression

“Can you take me to Emily’s?” She was like a aunt to me always so sweet and that’s what I needed right now

“Of course sweetie” the drive was silent until we pulled into the gravel drive way seeing Sam and Emily step out

“Try and relax okay, I’ll pick you up whenever you’d like just call” I managed a smile and got out seeing him drive away

I walked up the porch steps straight into Emily’s arms

“Oh honey what’s happened we haven’t seen you in so long” she said stepping back taking in my clearly broken and sick appearance, the baggy brown hoodie that use to fit relative tight and some ratty sweat pants, my hair pulled into two messy braids

“Somethings wrong Emily, I didn’t know who else to ask” finally letting the tears stream down my face, she squeezed my hands giving Sam a desperate look as she led me inside

I sat on the couch as she dropped a fluffy blanket over my legs telling Sam to make me a hot chocolate

“What’re you feeling hun? How did all this start” her voice always soothed me

“I can’t eat or sleep, I can’t feel it’s like I’m hollow inside and it hurts, not just emotionally I physically get sick all the time, dad brought me to the doctors and they say nothing is medically wrong” Sam placed the drink on the table infront of me and sat next to Emily on the couch across from me

“When did this all start?” He asked

“The day Paul left me, I know it sounds crazy but…….its likes a piece of me died when he stopped coming around” they looked at eachother with knowing looks

“You’re not crazy”

“Then what? Do you know what’s wrong with me?” I ask almost pleading

“I might, how about you and Emily catch up and rest, I’ll be back soon” and with that he left leaving me confused

The sun started setting and I didn’t want to bother Emily more that needed

“I think I’m gonna head home, thanks for having me today” I said pulling on my coat at the door

“Do you want me to call Charlie it’s a long walk hun”

“Oh no I’m…..I need some air I’ll be fine”

“Okay but be safe and call me when you get home so I know everything okay?”

“Okay Em” I faked a smile and left feeling the cool breeze hit me, but I lied theres no going home this time, I’m going to where I last had him, the cliffs

The walk was long and cold but when I finally made it the moon was shining bright over head, dropping to my knees I cried and cried until there was no more tears left

What was the point anymore he’s never coming back so this pain will never go away I feel like I’m fading away anyways

Standing up I neared the cliff edge the sea breeze blowing up from far below

“Maybe in another life I’ll find you Paul” then a quick breeze whooshed past my body opening my eyes I wasn’t at the cliff anymore but in the deep forest

Emmett Cullen right infront of me, confused and upset I step away crossing my arms over my chest

“Emmett why would you stop me, what’re you even doing here” I sigh wanting to just scream

“What the hell were you thinking, why would you try to kill yourself what about Bella what about Charlie?”

“It hurts so much Emmett can you just make it go away, I wanna be okay again”

“This isn’t suppose to happen to you, you’re suppose to be Bella’s sweet shy sister” he sighs pulling me into a tight cold hug, nothing like how it felt with Paul

“Not anymore Em”

“Do you wanna come over I can make you anything you want and I can make a cozy spot for you infront of the fire place”

“Oh I couldn’t impose like that”

“If Bella’s family now so are you” before I could agree a growl rumbled through the trees

Turning a grey wolf the size of a mini van emerged from the trees its eyes piercing at Emmett

“Emmett what do we do?” I ask scared gripping his arm

“Calm down you’ll be okay just trust me okay”

“O…okay” and the next second he was gone in the blink of an eye

He left me, I turn back to the wolf that no longer growled but was whining, getting closer it laid down infront of me nudging my leg with its snout, suddenly the fear dissapeared

I lean down and cautiously rubbed my hand through its soft fur hearing it grumble, sitting in front of it it moved forward laying its head across my lap completely covering it

“You’re quite beautiful, like a gentle giant” rubbing its fur helped sooth me bringing me back to reality of what I almost did tonight

“I can’t believe I almost ended it all tonight, he’ll come back to me soon right? I’ll be happy again someday won’t I?”

I licked at my hand whining

“He promised he wouldn’t leave me, he always said he’d protect me and he always made me happy I don’t know what to do without him”

The wolf got up motioning to get on it back and for some reason I didn’t think twice about it, hopping on I held onto its next as it made its way down the path back the way I came

Right back to Emily’s house

Part.2

Taglist: @lilredcamaro14 @cvmtitss @larissa01-blog2

[rahonn]

Rust

A/N: Gobble up the angst my children

Pairing: Eustass Kid x reader (no pronouns mentioned!)

Word count: 3511

Trigger warning: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, toxic relationship, a bit of crime

_________________________________________

He never intended for anything to come out the way it did. Foul smell of burned meat invaded his nostrils, clinging to every inch of his exposed skin. And once again, alone and angry, he threw the plates against the wall. Mashed potatoes, looking more like a soup, ran down the ugly greyish paint, slab of overcooked beef slapped hard against the floor soon after. This was the drop of grease that started the fire. Low rumble started deep within his chest, making him vibrate all over. Soon, he was roaring like a hurt animal, throwing things all around, smashing plates, stomping on the utensils, throwing chairs. One of them smashed the window and fell out. Someone screamed right before wood broke into pieces against the concrete. Not even five minutes later someone started to bang on his front door, but he didn’t even hear them. Blue and red lights flashed outside accompanied by deafening sirens of two police cars and only then he stopped, suddenly feeling empty.

All that was left of Eustass Kidd were ashes and acrid smoke.

He was never the one to be interested in love. Not after they killed Victoria. They were young, sure, but the fact police never even bothered to open an investigation messed him up real good. Only other person he could count on whatever happened was Killer. With time, Wire and Heat joined their fucked up duo-turned-group. They caused a lot of ruckus around town, they were a violent bunch. Only thing they were really good at was producing noise and fixing or recycling electronics and car parts. So they leaned into it, putting their anger at the state of the world into making money from fixing whatever they could that they later spent on studio and crappy instruments.

They sounded awful at first, but that’s how they felt. Nothing made sense in this fucked up world, why should their music do?

By complete chance they found themselves in the middle of the woods, drinking. Being still underage, this was one of few places police wouldn’t catch them. The sound they never expected there suddenly appeared – raspy, sonorous voice boomed all around them. They listened awfully familiar lyrics, perfect rendition of one of the bands they drew inspiration from. Peeking out at the main trail from behind some bushes, they saw young human dressed in all black, with tattered leather jacket on, few sizes too big and bovvy boots not even tied up.

That was the day their group got a new member and Eustass Kidd felt something move in his chest the second mesmerizing eyes looked at him. The smile light up his world. Nothing got fixed, it didn’t work like that. But Kidd started to change, bit by bit.

He started showing off more, expecting a praise from their new member. And he often got it. Everyone, him included, saw they were smitten, just head over heels for Eustass. They looked at him like he was the best this world could produce and he liked it. He got addicted to this feeling of being needed so desperately. He became their air, their water, their food, hobby and job. He was their everything. They were his obsession, but he would never, ever, say it out loud.

And maybe that’s where he went wrong.

All the times they practiced, drank the night away, went out to vandalize something or just to walk around, they tried to glue themselves to his side. He made fun of them a lot for it, they laughed it off. They loved him unconditionally. He called in the middle of the night? They soon stood on his doorstep, all sweaty and barely able to breathe. He told them to get him something? They would move heaven and earth to get it, even if it meant stealing or committing fraud. Or robbing someone. He wanted a star? They would somehow get into spaceship, burn their hands and destroy themselves, just to bring it down to him even if it was the last thing they’d do.

It was unhealthy, their relationship. Kidd, basking in the power he held over them, often poked fun at them, made fun of them. They laughed at it too, even though Killer and the rest tried to stop Eustass from saying such things. They were part of their small army, it was them against the world after all.

But one day, they became distant. All of a sudden Kidd lost his sun, his moon and the stars. His heart shifted, but he was too prideful to reach out, to ask what was happening. How furious he became after he saw they interacted with the rest of their band like earlier, before they decided on the name. What he didn’t know was they also slowly withdrew from the rest as well. It started with ignoring their texts, missing few practices here and there. Then it became more frequent. And when Killer, most emotionally mature out of all of them, asked what was wrong, they told him only about wanting to leave the band. Once Kidd heard it, his heart turned to stone. He jumped on his bike and drove straight to their house, forgetting about speed limits or even his helmet. He was furious, but cold. And he didn’t scream at them when they opened the door. Coldly he asked if it was true, if they were betraying the band like that.

If they were betraying him like that, but that part stayed silent.

Once shining eyes sparkling whenever he came into room, now looked at him without much emotion, dull and bland. They confirmed, they were indeed thinking about leaving to pursue higher education.

“We can’t play around like that for much longer. We need to grow up, sooner or later. I’m choosing now as my time of change.”

He spit on their shoes and with pure disgust he told them to never show their face near him. And that was that. He was hurt, he was furious, he felt betrayed once again. For the second time in his life, human he loved died in his eyes. This wasn’t the rebellious, up to anything person he met all those years before.

And they disappeared from the face of the earth after that, leaving black hole where Kidd’s heart once has been. The echo of their voice haunted him, whole band was missing them. But all members respected their decision. Only one that badmouthed them was Eustass, who put even more energy into their music, for the first time in very long with empty space near microphone. He forbade all Victoria Punk’s members from even talking about getting a replacement.

“We’ll manage without another leech just waiting to betray us.”

But when they caught the eye of one of bigger alternative labels, Killer sat Kidd down and talked to him for hours. That this was their chance of making it big and getting their story out there, shining a light at fucked up sides of this world. That he really needed to let them go already. They chose different path in life and that’s fine. It didn’t mean Kidd should let it hold him back from excelling in life. Eustass, after long few minutes of silence, said he got it, he’d find the vocalist soon.

First truly big concert was just ahead of them and he would make sure it’d make them talk of the country, if not the world. Stacks of song lyrics piled up under his bed, almost spilling out from there and their new frontman would sing them. After first fifteen minutes, they were already sweaty, giving their all. With guitar pick between his fingers, Kidd grabbed the mic, looking out into the crowd for a second, before closing his eyes and letting his voice carry through the air. With each word he got out there, he felt shield, carefully placed over his heart, bend, twist a bit and crack. Every song healed him just a little bit more, leaving him in the pit full of only sadness.

He missed them, their laugh, their eyes, the way they put all their energy into whatever they were doing. For maybe the first time in his life, when panting, covered in sweat he looked at the mass of bodies jumping and obeying his every word, he looked at his band, his best friends and smiled sadly. He walked over to Killer, who thought that maybe he wanted to change the song they were about to play. But Kidd just grabbed his bicep and looked deep into his eyes.

“I love them, Killer. And I need them back.”

As if lightning struck, Victoria Punk got their second, third, fourth and fifth big show, propelling them forward faster than it was necessary. Suddenly, they were doing interviews, got their own merch, started selling VIP tickets, had meet-and-greets with fans who cried and screamed upon seeing them.

Kidd made it his mission to find them though. He took out the songs they wrote and along with the band he mastered them, refusing to let even one word in them change. He hoped that maybe if they made it big enough, if they started to use their lyrics, they’d come to one of the shows. Because frankly, Eustass didn’t even know where to start looking for them.

The only time he wasn’t thinking about them were times when he snorted some coke or fucked someone. And it became his comfort, cushioning yet another fall after failed attempt of finding his love. It became his new habit, his new addiction to get rid of his old one – them.

Kidd started taking more drugs any of the guys from Victoria Punk even saw in their whole life. He often caught him mumbling to himself, off in his own world, their name leaving his lips all too often. Kidd smiled softly, staring into the void while sitting on the couch and talked under his breath about ‘how good it was to have them back’. And it scared Killer to no end. Soon, only he was allowed to enter Eustass’ room so the others wouldn’t know the extend of the damage done. He tried to pick the pieces of his best friend and mend them together, he searched all over for them, thinking maybe it would help. He even hired private investigator when all leads came up dry. All to pull Kidd back from the edge on which he balanced for the longest time.

And when investigator produced fresh photo of them, Killer relayed this message onto sober Kidd, rare occurrence these days. But Eustass looked at him with empty, sunken eyes and just smiled, not believing a word he said. Killer slapped the photo down with number hastily scribbled on the back of it and ordered his best friend to call them, then and there. To amuse his partner, Kidd grabbed his phone in trembling hands and pressed few buttons.

Phone ringed for a long time. And finally someone picked up making both men freeze on the spot.

“Hello? Who is this?”

No doubt, it was their voice. But Kidd panicked, because what would he even say? That he wanted them back? After all those years of no contact?

The voice whispered softly on the other end: “Kidd? No, there’s no way, right?” they laughed to themselves and cut off the call, leaving Eustass Kidd curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, already deciding he’d go completely sober, he’d return to his old self and call again.

And he did just that. He got clean, cut off contact with all prostitutes he got to know for all those years. The whole time he nervously scribbled down and erased lines of his confession. The only outlet ever to his emotions became writing songs and singing them with all his chest. Once lead guitarist, now vocalist, Kidd composed the best song his band ever produced.

All to convey his feelings to them, to get them back.

It was first concert of their tour celebrating 30th anniversary of creating Victoria Punk. They managed to pull of starting the tour in the town they lived now instead in their hometown. Killer sent them VIP ticket that included meet-and-greet. In the envelope there was also long letter, describing how whole band felt it was time to maybe reconcile, how they all regretted the day they parted ways. Everything now depended on whether or not they wanted to meet their old friends.

Eustass Kidd thought he would maybe make dinner just to heat it up when he’d inevitably would bring them back to the apartment rented just for the time being, until Victoria Punk stayed in town. He decided to make something simple, so it wouldn’t take a lot of time to heat up, but also would taste good.

Suddenly, after almost 20 years of playing all over the world, he became nervous. He prepared everything, this was about to be greatest show of all the time, ending with his confession.

They walked on the stage, immediately getting into their positions. Instruments were ready, their hearts were ready. The show began without any problems, they rocked the whole stadium like they always did. Whole hour he searched the rows closest to the stage, VIP places where people could still mosh, but were separated from the rest. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spotted familiar sign. He saw that line over and over again, motive repeating in their songs, the handwriting that haunted him in his dreams.

You catch me when I fall, we sail off in the night

The last song Victoria Punk performed was a cover, most fitting to the title of their tour ‘For you’.

“I’m sure you’ll like our rendition of Starset’s song Die For You” Kidd smirked right into the microphone. He tried to convey his feelings the whole time he stood on this stage. Tearing his throat to shreds, he heard Killer slamming the drums with all his might. Wire broke guitar pick, Heat almost sobbed while delivering the bass line. And when the song ended, whole stadium erupted into cheers, believing this was the end of the show. They all let them believe it, walking backstage. But Kidd only waited for lights to be turned off. He grabbed acoustic guitar he held onto from the day all Victoria Punk’s members signed it, laughing about selling it once they’d be famous.

But Kidd grabbed it and walked back on stage. He sat on the edge with guitar close to his chest and struck a chord. Single reflector snapped on, finding him in a flash. Kidd found the sign he saw earlier and smiled.

“This last song is, and will be, unreleased one. I took a long time to try and convey my feelings since I’m shitty talker. The person this song is to knows who they are. And they are here tonight.” Murmur spread through the crowd, he could swear he saw their eyes light up just. Just like in the good, old days. Suddenly, people vanished, all that was left was Kidd, the guitar and them right there, clutching a sign to their chest.

I sleep on my dreams, living in a nightmare

It hurts, you see, when you’re not here

There’s no past and no future

So, tell me when, when to let go

When to let you go and keep living

Without air, without fire, without soul

So, tell me when, when to let go

When to let you go and keep living

He sang his heart out, holding an eye contact with the one that grabbed his heart and ran all those years ago. And when he was done, he thanked everyone and straight up ran backstage, preparing for meet-and-greet. He made sure security knew who with what ticket number to bring to the back where the table was set up with snacks and five chairs around it for original squad of Victoria Punk to talk in private.

They sped through meeting their fans, making sure they all knew how grateful all members were for them to be there. But Kidd could only think about them, probably already sitting at the table, all nervous, looking around, playing with their hands to let out some of their feelings just a bit. How confused he was when he walked to the back all smiley and happy just to find the table completely empty. There was no one there. Killer, Wire and Heat went around, asking the crew and security where was the person with this specific ticket number.

“Yeah, they were here, but all they wanted was for me to give this to you all” one of the guards said, holding out four envelopes, each with different name on it. Kidd, still in shock, couldn’t move. Killer grabbed two last envelopes from guy’s hand and smacked Eustass on the back.

“Let’s go, partner” he said, sadness tainting his voice. Kidd let him lead him all the way to the car. Whole drive to the apartment, he held onto the envelope with his name scribbled on tightly, as if it could fly away at any second. Killer helped him get out of the car and made Kidd give him all valuables. “Just to be sure you won’t have anything to buy drugs with” he whispered, explaining himself, but Eustass automatically just put everything onto outstretched hand. He even shrugged off custom-made leather jacket before marching up the stairs.

He closed the door, mechanically turning on the oven to heat up the dinner he made. And he sat down on the couch, envelope in hand. He stared at it for the longest time before carefully pulling out card from the inside.

Dear Kidd,

Words already started dancing and merging together, but somehow, he was able to read it. Slowly, line after line, he read about their feelings. How hurt they were, how he treated them like a dog, using their admiration to make himself make feel better, how they finally decided to cut him off because their mental health was lower than the floor back then. And how hopeful they were he’d maybe contact them once they heard about Victoria Punk’s first CD, how they spent fortune going to all shows they played in their country, how they saw him spiraling and then getting back up, how proud they were, how they wrote countless letters to him, but never sent anything in the end. And how happy they were to receive invitation to this show with VIP tickets and handwritten note from Killer, how they missed all members of their little rascal band from their past, how nice it was to know they still thought about them.

And I never told you this, but I’m sure you knew already. I loved you. All this time, I loved you like crazy. And honestly, I still love you. But I also know you better than everyone, Boss. I know you just miss having someone stuck to you like a velcro, staring up at you with limitless admiration. That’s all. You were honestly my everything. My world, my air, my water, my hobby, my job, my soul. But it’s too little too late.

I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say those things like that, but I know I would cave in if I saw you in person. I would fall to my knees and beg you to take me with you, make me a part of Victoria Punk once again. But I know I would never be loved by you. Not in the way Victoria was, not in the way I deserve to be loved. You would, at most, make me your mascot again, just like you did when we were kids.

I am happy now.

Kidd smashed the mirror in the bathroom, no longer able to look at himself.

I found a guy that loves me and treats me with respect.

Sink got ripped out of the wall and thrown on the floor, smashed to pieces.

I wish I could kiss you and tell you I love you one time.

He looked out the window, contemplating the jump.

But please, let’s leave it in the past.

But the door got kicked in, police swarmed the apartment.

I miss you terribly, wishing it was you who I slept by every night.

By the time they got to him, he blacked out from the blood loss, his left arm bent weird in four different places.

I love you, Kidd, like I never loved, love or will love anyone.

He woke up in the hospital, staring up at the ceiling, his heart of steel laying in the pool of tears.

Please, forget about me.

Killer, Wire and Heat stood by his side when he got the news – they had to amputate most of his left arm, which meant no more shows for a little while.

Forever yours.

But that didn’t matter anymore, since his heart that lived for music, slowly got eaten away by the rust.

[itmeblog]

POLITICS INTO THE VOID TIME

In the event that you've not been pretty obsessed with how American politics have been going since Kamala became the Democratic nominee (there's been good and bad, that I'm aware of) the tone of the campaign has completely changed.

Because Kamala's team has decided that Trump isn't threatening, all powerful, and scary, (though the ads I've seen have sort of been using old language) they have decided that he's weird and he's a creep.

These were made 11 days apart:

As a kid who grew up being called weird (and occasionally a creep) this is hilarious. It's just playground bullying.

Dems really said, we tried being the bigger person, it wasn't working out.

And Trump's policies and desires are actually weird. A proposed porn ban is weird. Trying to put librarians in jail is weird, policing people's bodies is creep behavior.

As a former weird kid, the way to overcome this sort of bullying is not to assert that you aren't weird or god forbid shout "I'm cool" (the more you say it, the less true it is), it's to embrace that you're weird and accept that not everyone is going to like you, and that you'll probably never have a seat at the cool table.

But and I cannot express this enough Trump wants to be cool. His whole thing is, being edgy, and dangerous, and "being brave enough to say what people are afraid to say". And when you get someone who is "being brave enough to say what normal people are afraid to say" and shoot back with "they don't say that because it's fucking weird"... where does he go from there?

It's a depowering move. They are depowering Trump.

When you were a kid talking passionately about something that interested you and someone said "that's weird (derogatory)" it probably made you feel really small. That kid stole the power you were wielding in said conversation.

So the question is, can Trump proudly and convincingly assert "I'm weird. I’m a weirdo. I don't fit in. And I don't want to fit in. Have you ever seen me without this stupid hat on? That's weird." (GOD HIS CHATGPT AND PLAGIARIZED SPEECHES HAVE THE ABILITY TO DO THE FUNNIEST THING IN THE WORLD)

Is he ready to go full edgelord in the public eye?? I'm sure he'll still have followers, edgelords have a weird sort of power in this era of internet, but they are also indisputably cringe.

Like I'm not sure this will achieve anything other than being ridiculously entertaining (and thus catching the eye in headlines and reports). But,my family read one of the new releases and went oh right this whole thing is weird as fuck and it felt nice to get some kind of public acknowledgment that this is not normal.

So far the right has been struggling against couch fucking allegations, them saying that adults without kids should have less of a voice in voting (weird thing to say, but if you're polling badly with youngsters and need to maintain power~~), that Kamala is a crazy childless cat lady (Whoops accidentally alienated some of their base there, some people simply cannot have children, really shouldn't insinuate they are less than because of it. Not to mention that their own policies are making more everyday in mostly red states as complications with getting abortions for non-viable fetuses are leaving many people sterile. I'm not even going to go on with the fact that many people, like myself, simply don't want kids and that's reason enough. Also she does have step children), and the rumor that Trump wasn't really shot (as they finally removed the bandage to reveal... nothing, head wounds heal really fast but going from that giant plaster to nothing is doing a bit of a number in the rumor mill).

Basically they had Joe! THEY SPENT THE WHOLE RNC INSULTING HIM. THAT WAS THEIR WHOLE PLAN!! He was old, he was white. The inherit ableism/ageism of sleepy Joe and old Joe, and infirm Joe, were within "acceptable parameters". It was easy and safe to rib him.

They are struggling to find something on Kamala that doesn't come across as racist or sexist. Because they're polling poorly with Black Americans and they are down in the polls for women. Can't call her sleepy or lazy. Can't call her old (she's younger) can't call her stupid, can't call her infirm. Can't insinuate she's too emotional (have you met Trump??)

They probably could get her on a few policies but the 2025 project is looming large behind them.

I am foaming at the mouth trying to get to the next debate. But Trump is doing his best to weasel out of it. I am heartbroken! I miss the anytime, anywhere promise of yore.

[envihellbender]

Survivor AU Frank

Frank Morrison, Survivor

Role: Murder fanboy

Appearance: Frank has dark brown hair that falls in his face. He is covered in tattoos - mostly stick and poke but some professionally done like the skull on his neck. He wears a Misfits t-shirt (the sleeves he cut off himself with kitchen scissors) his binder is underneath and pokes out at the sides. His jeans are muddy at the bottoms with tears over the knees (worn from age), and he has an old pair of battered, second hand adidas trainers. He has an old paint stained backpack with band and horror patches sewn onto it, in the side pocket is a camera, and the front pocket is filled with different types of knives, his preferred behind a simple flick knife he keeps on his pocket.

Perks:

Harmony

If you are fixing a generator with another survivor that generator becomes invisible to the killer and increases in speed by 2/3/4%. This can only be applied to one generator per game.

Children of the Damned

The Entity oddly favours you more than most survivors. It takes 8/9/10% longer to be summoned and you have a 5/6/7% more chance to unhook yourself.

Kronwalled

When the killer is stunned you have the ability to melee attack them. This causes the killer to be thrown back and disorientated for 2/3/4 seconds.

Bio:

Ormond was the first place that the foster system sent Frank to where he actually felt at home. Sure, his foster father Clive Andrews was an abusive alcoholic, but he had friends. Friends who were just as obsessed with urban legends and true crime as he was. They were close beyond what most considered healthy, thats what the kid in the video store as well as Julie and Joey’s parents said. They didn’t care. They were happy. Every Saturday they’d meet to investigate old crime scenes and haunted spaces. There favourite killer however originated from no where near Ormond: The Ghost Face.

They’d talked about the infamous Ghost Face a thousand times but not ever did any of them suspect that one of his kills would happen in their shitty little town. When Julie waved the newspaper with Jed Olsen’s article and photo on the front page in front of their faces, the Ghost Face killer had attacked and they could see one of his crime scenes. It was the sort of thing they’d talked about taking road trips to do before, when they saved up enough money to go to the States. But they could actually do it now. Not only that, the article said it happened at the victim’s ski lodge - there was only one of those in the whole of Ormond. They whispered excitedly in their corner of the cafeteria about what they would do when they got there, they wondered if Ghost Face left anything the cops hadn’t picked up on.

If they weren’t so caught up in the anticipation that night, they might have found it strange that the place was empty when they arrived there. The police tape was untouched, but the doors were left ajar with blood on the window. Susie and Joey stayed behind, shivering in the snow, anxiously looking between each other. Both of them were mostly terrified of running into the police than the killer. Frank and Julie tried to push them to come with them. Eventually they agree once Julie and Frank had established the coast was clear.

Frank had been acting strangely the moment they approached the building, but only Julie seemed to notice. He felt something inside the building calling him, beckoning him, and he couldn’t help but follow it. He didn’t even notice the fog around him as he entered into the main hall of the ski lodge. He did however realise he was still shivering and when he turned round to mention this to Julie he couldn’t see anything but fog. He turned back towards the entrance, shouting Julie’s name. There was a strange hissing noise from the centre of the room, Frank spun back around before he could even process it. He couldn’t breathe when he saw the source of the noise - Ghost Face’s victim laid untouched on the rug in front of the fireplace. He couldn’t believe the cops had left it there. He ran towards it and got onto his knees, foolishing tearing his shirt buttons open to see the wound. Or what should’ve been a wound. He couldn’t see the body any more. All he could see was the fog.

[hannahhook7744]

Zane Callahan, Son of Phil Callahan;

Trigger warnings; Mental health issues, childhood trauma, Implied PTSD, etc.

His full name is Zane Eugene Callahan. 

His dad is Phil Callahan and his parents divorced when he was young.

He was three years old when Steve died and is now twenty. 

He is still in high school however because he missed a lot of school due to multiple suspensions he got for being 'violent' towards other students. 

What nobody with tell you is that he got those suspensions for protecting his friends and that he doesn't regret it no matter how sorry he acts around authority figures. 

He is usually very respectful and obedient but he has no problem doing the opposite when it concerns the safety of his friends and family. 

Due to his obsession with army and government stuff, the upside down crew has grown slightly wary of him but Zane doesn't practically care because he has big plans and will not stop till the people responsible for the whole Upside Down nonsense are held accountable for their actions. He is hellbent on cleaning up the government and won't stop—even when and if it kills him. 

He has a whole 'army brat' aesthetic going on that is due to how strict and overprotective his dad was of him growing up. He had it drilled in his head as a kid that if he loves somebody then he has to protect them and do what's best for them, and not leave if he can help it (he was raised not to make the same mistakes his dad did with his uncle). 

Zane resembles his Uncle Steve quite a bit despite having short black hair and has been called Steve by his dad (on a couple of occasions) and by his granddad the only time he ever met him.

He has very vague memories of Steve that he isn't very sure are real since he only met him a few times before he died. 

He loves country and classical music, and tolerates everything else.

Zane also loves puzzles. 

He is good at fighting and knows how to use quite a few things as weapons that are not weapons.

He also knows how to use a lot of actual weapons because he is a fast learner. 

And don't tell his dad but he also knows how to pick locks and hot wire a car due to seeing someone in the party due both on several occasions after forgetting the keys to their van.

On a completely unrelated note, he has a crush on Lyra Munson but it too shy to ask her out. 

Out of his cousins, he is the closest to Stewart because they're both perceived as the 'obedient but forgettable' Harrington kids. 

He likes camping, fishing, hunting, woodshop, bird watching, and puzzles. 

He is in Rotc at school. 

Zane also knows every law in every state by heart and has found a loop hole in several of them for 'research purposes'.

Oh and he has a police radio that he uses to listen in on the Hawkins P.D radio frequency that his dad doesn't know about. 

He loves dry humor and uses it (as well as subtle insults) often. 

He is not as innocent as people tend to think him to be. 

He is very stubborn and protective as well as stern when he needs to be, often coming off as cold and uncaring to those who don't know him well. 

Zane is also a total gossip and has black mail on everyone he is very willing to release if he is pushed enough. 

He lives with his dad. 

He is fast on his feet and a quick learner.

He is also very good at playing dumb and sniffing out fake friends as well as danger. It has saved his and his friends and cousins' asses on more than one occasion. 

His favorite colors are green and brown. 

He has a police tape backpack.

Also he and Stephanie may or may not share a love of explosives but if you ask or point this out, he will deny it.

Also Zane has just barely managed to escape getting arrested on more than one occasion—the adults in his life are oblivious to this. 

Devansh is his best friend. 

Devansh is also how he found out about the upside down—because his powers developed when he was around Zane and then Kali had to explain it to both of them before they told the others.

He is good at getting away with things because people assume he’s the good one who ‘behaves rank and file’ when in reality he’s just good at hiding how he actually is—which the other Next Gen kids find really funny and really unfair at the same time.

Zane's protective streak and semi-serious nature really drives his friends and cousins nuts sometimes.

Note:

These headcanons take place in my Stranger Things au 'Cats in the Cradle'. In that au, Tommy and Carol are left to raise Steve's four infant children with the help of the Upside Down Crew, Steve's half brother, Steve's younger cousin, and their collective families.  In that au, Jason and Eddie live.  Max is less seriously injured.  Phil Callahan is Steve's older half brother. And Chrissy, her brother, and Fred Benson were Steve's cousins.  Oh and Steve hooked up with one of his pre-nancy girlfriends and after his death she found herself pregnant with quads that Steve never got to meet. Hope that clears up any confusion regarding these ocs and headcanons. 

[juno-valentine]

OCC POST/ WRITING alirghtly gang here's more rambling for Juno but this time its the half assed version of her Gotham backstory (different from her normal one)

WARNING: Death, pregnancy, loss of children, and mitski coded Juno??? ALSO THIS IS REALLY UNORGANIZED AND IS NOT CANON TO HER MAIN STORY LINE I JUST THOUGHT WRITING AND POSTING ABOUT HER GOTHAM ALTERNATIVE WOULD BE FUN!!!! and as always shes a very Mary Sue character

Juno valentine in this universe is a veteran, having fought in the army from the time she was 18 to 24, she had join as soon as she graduated highschool to escape her abusive household. she was discharged from the military for behavioral issues, seeing as she had on more than one occasion lashed out at her fellow soldiers.

during her first year away from her job she ended up getting pregnant from a hook up with a old mate from the army. she decided to keep the baby. nine months later giving birth to uhhhhh idk yet actually unnamed valentine boy…… yeahhhhh…… her son grew up with a bit of an obsession with old western movies, always wanting to watch them during movie night and play cowboys with his mother, hed always play the sheriff of course and juno would always play as the bandit ( WINK WINK NUG NUG).

during this time juno had begun taking up odd jobs around gotham ( she moved there to try and keep her son away from her family as possible) shed do bodyguard work here and there, some transporter stuff a few times, but she was best known for taking people out. she was a surprisingly good killing machine, even if she didn't like being called that. soon people out of the city and the state of jersey were interested in her services, and at this point she had enough money for a nanny to watch over her son while she was out of town.

shed try to make up for any lost time with souvenirs shed pick up while on the job, mostly getting cowboy adjacent things. Juno would also try her best to take her son to do things she never got to do, like swimming, going to the fair, and even going to disneyland. skip forward a few years and her sons all grown up, hes a smart boy, even graduated high school early at 17.

but his dreams didn't lie in the academic field, no he wanted to be a police officer, just like the sheriffs in the old western movies he loved as a child! This worried juno, being a officer in gotham was a dangerous job, even if this was before all the freaks showed up. but she didn't want to stop her boy from following his dreams, no not like her father did to her, so she let him go to the gotham police academy, even paid for any additional fees to get in.

about 2 years into being in the academy, new captain, Nathaniel Barnes and officer jim gordon promoted her son to Unit alpha. she was out of town when this happened, and her son decided it would be best to wait to see her again to reveal the good news. he never got to do that though. a few weeks into being on the unit he was burned to death by a masked arsonist, the "Fire fly" ( BTW BEFORE YOU WONDER HE JUST REPLACES LUKE AS THE FIRST KID TO DIE ON THE TASK FORCE,LUKE STILL DIES THOUGH) Juno doesn't even receive the news her son is dead until the day before the funeral.

the one person she'd ever loved with her whole heart, her own blood, someone that had known her for there entire life, her baby, her son, her little cowboy… gone. forever. the one thing left she cared about. slipping away. She cried for the first time in years that night, letting it all out, that same night she went to the bar to drink her sorrows away, some place she didn't quite recognize, this place called the iceberg lounge she believes? she remembered it belonging to that fish lady, mooney or something but that didn't matter to her. all she wanted to do was forget. forget her regret of letting her son be a officer, the regret of not being there, the regret of not being there in the hospital during his last moments.

[amischiefofmuses]

Masterpost of Plot Ideas - Canon Muses

I have a lot of canon muses, so here is a plot masterlist rather than spamming the dash for individual characters. I spent far too much time on this thing and I will be adding more to it over time.

NOTES: - If you see a plot being used we can still use it, things go different directions with different writers. - For any 'friends of' plot ideas - Either they have to have an established friendship or we'll need to discuss a pre-established one so we're on the same page.

!!Warning: THIS IS A VERY LONG POST!! [Click here] while holding CTRL to open it in a new tab and avoid it flooding your dash on pc. On mobile it should be perfectly fine!

[OC MUSE PLOT IDEAS TBA]

Green - For anyone || Blue - For canon muses Pink - For other criteria

Any kids from Hawkins lab (El or oc lab kids) - They escape and Eddie ends up finding them, looking after them with help from Wayne (who is used to Eddie picking up strays). Trouble ensues.

Robin - Eddie sees her at a gay bar, both are trying to make up excuses as to why they're there that doesn't out them. It's the beginning of a ridiculous friendship.

Steve or Billy - Eddie is making out with a guy in the dark quiet room of a house party out of town, assuming he's far enough away from Hawkins not to get spotted. He spots Steve/Billy looking at him from the doorway, panics and things go from there.

Anyone [I actually have an open starter for this one] - Eddie breaks into someones house trying to hide after causing trouble with some of the local jocks. Is he gonna get his ass beaten for his troubles? Someone calling the police? Who knows!

Anyone - Vampire Eddie - Eddie has clawed his way from the Upside Down and begins picking off people who caused him trouble before his 'death'. Maybe your character catches him in the act and they become his next target, maybe they talk him down.

Any friends of Eddie - Vampire Eddie - Eddie survived the Upside Down but something seems different. His wounds are healing surprisingly quickly but he hasn't really been eating or drinking - in fact he's starting to look pretty pale. Vampire Eddie but he doesn't know he's a vampire yet.

Any friends of Eddie - Vampire Eddie - Though they survived the Upside Down, something has been killing people in town and the squad are determined to find out what. Eddie hasn't told them that he's been waking up covered in blood, with the coppery taste in his mouth and he's terrified of what that means.

Steve or Billy - Mechanic Eddie - This could be set post s3 for Steve or just after ep1 of s3 for Billy. They come to the one little mechanic shop Hawkins has and have to deal with Eddie asking them questions about the damage to their car, with Billy acting strange or Steve ducking the questions. That only serves to make the mechanic more curious as to what the king or former king have going on.

Any friends of Eddie - Post s4 - Eddie survived the Upside Down and recovered well but now he's gone MIA. He won't answer calls, nowhere knows where the new trailer is and everyone is beginning to worry. He's located with a little help from Hopper and though they're assured he's fine, they want to see him. Little do they know, he's struggling with the aftermath of everything and avoiding them in some attempt to no longer cause problems. He's gone full hermit and someone needs to drag him out.

Anyone - Set after s3 - After being sent on his way after the events of Starcourt, the adrenaline is wearing off and Steve is reluctant to go back home to an empty house but he doesn't want to lean on his traumatized friends either. Instead he pulls in on the nearest street, busted and bruised with probable broken ribs, sits himself down to try and calm his shaking hands. He's not expecting someone to come across him in this state.

Dustin - Werewolf Steve - There's tales of a werewolf in Hawkins and the kid has been obsessed with it, enough so that he's decided it's time for a sleepover at Steve's on a full moon since he's amply placed by the woods - perfect to gather evidence. Steve is the damn werewolf, he's fighting the call to change but it's getting harder every second.

Billy - After their fight in S2/early s3, Steve is surprised to see Billy stepping into the scoops while he's closing up. Turns out Max is out late and nowadays he doesn't dare to push things, so Billy is reluctantly enlisting Steve's help to get his sister home. Perhaps they have a heart to heart, perhaps they just fight, all depends on chemistry.

Anyone [this is one I have an open starter for] - Werewolf Steve - Foolishly deciding to nap after a nightly run, he's caught completely nude in the leaves and has to explain himself. With legends of wolves in the Hawkins woods, it's hard to explain why he'd be out there at all.

Any friends of Steve - Post s4 - He calls early in the afternoon and seems drunk as hell already, which is entirely out of the norm for him nowadays but he won't explain what's wrong because he knows it sounds ungrateful. He's had a call from his parents that they're giving him the house, they're reluctant to return given the state of Hawkins these days and Steve refuses to join them wherever they are because he has a life here. It seemed like a fair compromise but now he's in a big empty house all by himself and the idea of that seems incredibly daunting.

Anyone - Werewolf Steve - On a run at night he's used to the woods of Hawkins being peaceful, devoid of Human life. Imagine his surprise when he lunges through the bushes at a movement and finds his teeth clamped around a very human limb. Considering he was turned without choice, he's being eaten alive by the guilt of doing that to someone else and thus takes it upon himself to teach them how to handle it.

Anyone - [Open starter can be found here] - Werewolf Billy - Set after a big fight with his Dad, which is far more intense due to them being werewolves, able to withstand more etc. He goes out while still injured, intending to change and run out his frustration. However, on the cusp of change someone comes across him. He's trying to fight it while trying to get the other person to leave.

Steve or Max - Werewolf Billy, set during the standoff between Billy in Steve in s2. - While posturing outside it seems more Demodogs have come to try and find El, Billy is forced to decide between keeping his secret or protecting them.

Any of the s4 Hawkins party - Post s3 - Billy has to help with the situation with Vecna, having gotten more involved in the Upside Down bullshit since being flayed. He can sense the creeping feeling of the Upside Down just like Will can, so this can even be before anyone dies in Hawkins and he's trying to figure out what's going on with the other members of the party.

Anyone - Billy is out and about after a bad particularly bad fight with his Dad, it's clear he's angry and he has a black eye but he won't talk about it. He might need reassurance but god knows he won't accept it.

Anyone - Billy is drunk and reckless, he's heading to his car with a stumble and someone should probably stop him. Though there's a risk you might get a punch for your troubles but it's probably worth the risk.

Anyone - [Inspired by Etherdwellers] - There seems to be a ghostly presence in your home after acquiring an old box of medals and war memorabilia - including an old swagger stick. He's not expecting you'll be able to see him but for whatever reason, you can. Chaos ensues.

Anyone - This one is a little fantastical but can't help my self indulgence. Rather than dying, the Captain experiences a slip in time that has him now stood in the modern day. Baffled and now capable of seeing ghosts himself, he requires a modern day guide.

Anyone - Your muse is killed while visiting Button House during a function, the Captain has decided he will lead the charge in trying to figure out the culprit. Could be done as a fun whodunnit while your character has a crisis about being fucking dead lmfao.

Any of the Ghosts - Due to something going on in their room, a bed has to be shared. This isn't necessarily a romantic plot, given female ghosts are welcome but I expect chaos to ensue regardless of who it is. Basically it's a reluctant sleepover plot.

Anyone - Set before GOTG 3 - With Quill hesitant to return to Earth it seems that Rocket is having to play embassador. He intended to do some recon, instead he's caught off guard by Earth's ability to shoot his ship down. With nothing but a wreckage and no commucation back to his crew, he needs some help to get back home.

Any Guardian - After GOTG 3 - While he may have faced his past, Rocket still has a lot of trauma to do with medical environments. After a particularly bad scrap he's forced to see a medic and he's starting to panic on the wait to see them, maybe your muse can offer some support?

Any Guardian - Set any time after forming the Guardians - Just some big epic mission to save the world. Big bad guy, big fights, maybe times where they protect eachother. Just hand it over.

Anyone - Young Rocket - Rocket runs into your character after just escaping captivity for the first time, the two end up having to team up to avoid a situation. Friendship, rivalry or even hatred ends up developing between them.

Any spacefaring muse - After getting stuck in some space prison again, Rocket enlists your muse to help him escape. Whether he actually gets them out with him? Well, that depends on how things go, doesn't it?

Anyone - While in hiding, pre Captain America: Civil War - He breaks into your muses house thinking it's empty. It just kinda goes from there. Maybe they fight, maybe they take pity on him, we'll see! Alternatively maybe your muse takes pity on this homeless man and offers him help, slowly befriending him like a stray animal. Could be better for a slow-build friendship.

Any Avenger Muse - They're both sent on a mission together, he's closed off, guarded, but he starts warming to them as time goes on. Bonus: This happens when the two of them are trapped somewhere and trying to find a way out.

Anyone - While in hiding, pre Captain America: Civil War - Bucky has been living as your muses housemate for almost half a year now and you barely know anything about him, he keeps to himself and seem to be the perfect person to live with. However, someone has come looking for him and they break into your place to try and get him. This can have offshoots where your muse is held captive and Bucky saves them, they run together with Bucky protecting them, ect.

Steve - Set during Captain America: The First Avenger - Bucky has noticed changes since he's come back from Zola's torturous tests but he's scared about what that means, whether he'll end up a monster like the Red Skull. During a fight he's forced to defend himself and almost punches through a guy, maybe Steve sees or hears of it and is concerned about what's going on. Or maybe he just notices something is off with his old friend?

Sam - Set post Captain America: Civil War - While out on a mission they receive a distress call from Steve, they have to team up to rescue him. I'm thinking a 'rival' to friends kinda vibe but that's down to chemistry.

Child muses - Let this man pick up a stray kid and end up being a dad to them. He's made to nurture, dangit. Spent his youth looking after Steve for that reason. Bonus if the kid doesn't have parents and he can end up adopting them rather than taking them back to their home. Additional bonus if they're little shitheads that he has to fight to earn the trust of.

Anyone - Modern AU - Ben is involved in criminal activity, he's out late to collect money from someone and ends up in to protect your muse from some idiot trying to mug them. Ends up walking them home and possibly making friends. Alternatively, they're who he's been sent to collect money from.

Any spacefaring muse - Smuggler Ben - Your muse has been sent to convince Ben to rejoin the resistance fully rather than living his free life. He's reluctant as he knows part of that means embracing his force abilities that he has tried to avoid using. Alternatively, your muse is from the First Order, trying to bring Ben in to work for Snoke.

Any spacefaring muse - During his time as a knight of Ren and Snoke's right hand - Kylo's ship is fast approaching and it seems he's locked on, he has every intention to bring you in and interrogate you for information on the resistance. Maybe your muse knows enough to be useful.

Rey - While it may have seemed he killed his father, Ben managed to only wound the man and make him seem dead. He's a double agent, tearing apart the first Order from the inside. With their new Force bond, he's desperately trying to get her to believe he's not the bad guy he seems to be.

Hux - As the new Supreme Leader, Kylo is uncertain of what he wants to do next. Still processing the death of Snoke, the abusive master, he needs someone to step in to take charge. Though he doesn't trust Hux, he knows he's capable and promotes him to the position. Will he still get stabbed in the back for his trouble? Or will they find some sense of equalibrium without their former master pitting them against eachother? We'll see!

Any of Sherlock's friends - He comes home to the flat to find Sherlock barely conscious, the flat a mess and the knocked out body of a criminal in the middle of the living room. It seems someone intended on taking him out but failed, Sherlock could really use some help though, regardless of how stubborn he might be about it.

Anyone - Sherlock set up a dating profile to draw out a killer, using very specific details pertaining to the case. You absent-mindedly swiped on him, figuring it was worth the chance. All the while Sherlock is playing along, offering the best chemistry your muse has had in a while and even planning a first date with your muse unaware it's meant to be to catch you for this crime.

Villain muses - After his apparent death, Jim is working to rebuild his criminal empire and it needs a lot of new blood. It seems your muse is just what he needs but he expects them to pass a test first, prove themselves worthy.

Sebastian Moran - Jim returns from the dead as though nothing happened. Up-ending Sebastian's life that he's been building for himself. Will he rejoin the criminal as his right hand? Will the criminal get a punch for his troubles?

Molly Hooper - Honestly anything from their little time as partners, anything from their first meeting to date nights. Also the fight that must have happened when she finds out he left his number with sherlock? Yes please.

Any muses with powers/abilities - Jim finds out such a thing exists and it proves to be a new point of interest. He just has to see it in action, own that for himself. Thus he kidnaps your muse and has fun seeing the extent of their powers.

Any 'Official' muse in positions of power/Cops/Agents - Jim has been brought in as a consultant, if only because he has the information that your muse needs. However it comes at a cost, he wants something interesting in return. Can your muse deliver? And if so, are they willing to make a deal with the Devil?

Anyone - Jim has to play 'normal' with your muse as part of a plan, befriending them and getting close to them. Good for future betrayal angst.

Any paranormal/creature muse - After hearing stories about a 'monster' in the area, he goes to scope out the situation. Little does he know the person he's talking to is the very same 'monster' he's been looking for. Will he figure it out? Guess we'll see.

Anyone - Small bitey creatures escape a container while he's going through things in storage, they end up in your muses house and now John's having to stay in your muses house to make sure he gets every last one. Might as well have a drink together while waiting for the little blighters!

Chas - Exploring the day after Chas survived his first brush with death thanks to John's spell. Gimme that sweet sweet drama.

Anyone - John is conducting a spell in a specific spot in the city. When his portal opens up and he steps into the Fae realm, he's not expecting someone else to accidentally stumble in behind him before it closes. Oops.

Anyone - John is out chasing a cryptid that's been running rampant, your muse just so happens to be obliviously out here camping. Does your muse think he's some kind of crazed killer when he comes bolting out of the woods toward them while covered in blood? Do they try to help? We'll see!

Any Human - Monsters have just arrived to the surface, you're not expecting a skeleton to nudge you while asking for directions. Oh holy shit.

Anyone - On the surface the monsters have set up a few little towns for themselves, Sans has taken to working at Grillby's new bar. A Human enters and Sans intends to make them feel welcome. Alternatively, a monster comes in for help as Humans have been giving them trouble and he intends to help.

Papyrus - Just gimme brotherly shenanigans. On the surface, down in the underground. Just the two of them being a chaotic duo pls and thank.

Frisk/Chara - Post genocide route, after a reset. Sans remembers and is sick of pretending otherwise, he knows he can't stop the kid but he can sure as hell be a menace while they're pretending to be all nice this time around.

Anyone - Your muse catches Eda doing magic in the Human realm, do they dare speak to this mysterious witch? Or perhaps they end up following her to the Demon realm? Guess we'll see!

Raine - School shenanigans between the two of them. I'd love to see them growing closer, eventually getting into their relationship and such. Some happy times leading into sad times for these babies.

Luz - Eda and Raine are getting married, Eda is a mess about it, she's never been good at planning things like this. It seems it's time for her apprentice to step in and help.

Anyone - It's halloween and Luz has convinced Eda to check out the way the Human realm celebrates. She decides to use her Harpy form as a lazy costume, enjoying the attention her 'awesome outfit' is getting. Your muse got a sticky toffee apple that unfortunately ended up on her wing, suddenly you realize that it isn't a costume at all and she whisks you off before you can make a scene.

Anyone - Your muse somehow slips into the Demon realm before the portal has been repaired by the Collector, luckily the Owl Lady is willing to take you under her wing while you adjust to your new temporary home.

Anyone - After 'Hollow Mind' - While running away from the Owl House, Hunter is unlucky enough to be one of those entities that slips from the Demon realm to the Human realm. Now he's safe from Belos but in a world he doesn't understand, maybe he could use some help.

Luz - Any sibling shit. Give me sibling shenanigans. Going out shopping, preparing for an event, just anything tbh. Hand it over.

Willow - I want to write their first proper date so bad. Once everything is over and they're able to relax they just, decompress and talk about their feelings, then get to go on a little date. Just, so cute. Yes good.

Any Demon realm muse - The Golden guard has been sent to collect your character to bring to the Emperor. Do they come along quietly and end up working alongside him, or are they going to put up a fight?

Any Human - [Open starter for this can be found here] - They somehow manage to slip into the Demon realm and are caught by the Emperor's guard, who bring the Human to him thinking it may be the one he's looking for. Not wanting this new person to fall prey to the lures of the Demon realm, he plays 'hero' and offers them protection within the castle, promising to return them home when his work here is done and the portal is ready.

Any Demon realm muse - Completely AU scenario where Belos was not fueled by hate but instead fascination with the Demon realm. Unfortunately he went too far, causing him the same curse by putting the sigils on himself in an attempt to give himself magic. By the time your muse finds him, he's monstrous and in need of help.

Any Demon realm muse - Your muse has been brought in to stand before the Emperor, perhaps they have found something he has great interest in or they are a possible asset to his cause. Will they work with him or dare to put up a fight?

Anyone - Your muse takes a trip to Gravity Falls, having heard stories of spooky stuff going on. Bill tries to take advantage of their lack of knowledge about the town and tries to manipulate them as a new, unknowing puppet for his plans.

Anyone - Bill emerges from the statue after Gravity Falls is saved but things are different. He's practically powerless, corporeal and in need of help. Can he convince someone to assist him?

Any Pines family - Bill ends up as somewhat of a ghost, linked to the shack as that was Stan's mindspace when he invaded, trapped within those walls. Since there's little he can do, he's intent on causing trouble. With time maybe he can attach to the Pines family to haunt them while out and about too.

Ford - Writing their time working together, including after the betrayal where Bill begins to try and wear down Ford's psyche.

Any of Dipper's friends/family - Gimme some monster of the week shananigans. Just them dealing with some big ol beastie, ghostie, or smth.

Anyone - Your muse is new to Gravity Falls, they decided to go explore the woods and come across one of the many creatures of the town. Dipper comes across them and has to help them get out of there alive.

Anyone - Blue comes down to Earth after SU:Future to visit and see what the fuss is about Humans now that everything is calm and peaceful on Homeworld and the underlying colonies. She wants to see why Pink went to such trouble over these little creatures. Maybe your muse can teach her some of the wonders of Earth!

Anyone - Not being used to having her own freedom, Delphi is taking time to adjust. After helping your muse with something, she ends up following them around trying to serve them, falling into bad habits.

Any alien muses on Earth - Your muses recognizes Zim as the alien he is and worse still, as an Irken - one of the biggest growing empires in the universe. Perhaps they try to ensure he's not going to destroy their new home? Perhaps they try to align with him to ensure their safety? Anything goes.

Anyone - You're trying to go about your day as usual when this little bug alien lets himself into your house in a rush. He's without disguise, looking panicked. Maybe your muse takes pity on him and he takes advantage of that? Maybe they try to catch him? Just figured this would be a little fun.

Dib - After the events of the Florpus - Zim has gone surprisingly quiet again, which makes Dib suspicious of what he might be up to. As usual it's shockingly easy to get into his base and he finds it looking almost bare. Descending further inside, he finds Zim packing up to leave. Maybe he should be happy about that, that Earth is safe but suddenly there's the dread of how boring life will be without the alien bothering him. Possible enemies to friends. No ZaDr here.

Anyone - Trouble is brewing because everyone knows Fizz and Ozzie are together. One peaceful night a group of powerful demons come to cause trouble and Ozzie sends fizz away to the Human realm. The poor imp has no idea what he's doing, where he's going or if his boyfriend is alright and desperately needs some help.

Blitz - These drunken teenagers are getting themselves in trouble, now they're trying to avoid getting caught on their trip back home.

Oz - Lets write how they met and them developing their relationship! I'm thinking it begins with Mammon wanting the Fizz dolls to be accurate, so they end up having to spend a lot of time together.

Any hell-dweller - Before quitting, Fizz is trying to go about his day when he's cornered by some fans. Maybe your muse steps in to help and a friendship develops.

Any hell-dweller - [I have an open starter for this one] - After quitting, Fizz has been working on setting up his own show as he misses getting to perform. It's a smaller venue, with stricter rules but as he's preparing for the night, he's starting to seem more and more frazzled by the idea of going back on stage.

[gothamscormorant]

this is how i imagine tim drake…

(a lot of this is also canon/inspired by canon)

click here for the other boys

- absolutely obsessed with star wars.

- has forced everyone to individually binge the series with him at least once.

- but also uk love island and australian bellow deck is definitely his guilty pleasure.

- call me patriotic but i refuse to believe he watches the american versions of reality shows.

- overworks himself on such little sleep that his body giving up and him fainting is a scarily regular occurrence.

- insane martial artist -which people (like most things he can do/does) completely overlook or just don’t care about. this is also canon btw.

- like he can easily knock anyone to the ground in a second, yet because of his small build and mmmm relatively unhealthy state, it goes unnoticed and sometimes unused.

- people always overlook him because of his innocent seeming personality, but he’s so cruel sometimes.

- like he punched jason out cold once for picking up his stuff and holding it over his head, put itching powder in dick’s boxers and bed for hiding the cases he was working on, roofied damian’s nightly hot chocolate so he’d miss family movie night because dami was pissing him off… true slytherin.

- but just like a lot of the things he does, it goes unnoticed/un-delt-with most of the time so he gets away with it. middle child tings.

- not to mention he literally stalked batman and would run around solving murders and dropping off the evidence to gordon before even being a robin.

- he was on the CIA’s watch list for crying out loud!

- doesn’t break the unassuming facade often, but when he goes off the deep end, he goes, and doesn’t stop until he’s satisfied -or stopped.

- scarily persuasive -some would say manipulative, i would say ambitious. i mean he did wiggle his way into the position of robin with sheer willpower.

- i think one of the reasons i love tim so much and are so fascinated by him is because of his capacity to be a villain so easily if he wanted.

- like if he decided one day to turn on everyone… in an instant he has control of a multimillion dollar company, can easily gain control the police, has dirt on every single person, and access to anything he decides he wants: and yet he chooses to do good.

- he could have the world on their knees and yet people still decide to fuck with him because of their naivety.

- villain tim would be terrifying.

- his childhood and a normal loving and attentive family setting was stolen from him. he was always made out to be “mature for his age” and “quiet and sensible” when in reality he was just neglected and bored.

- being a gifted child always comes with its downfalls. like being so unstimulated by his schooling and classmates that he acts out a little bit out of boredom and a craving for attention from his parents; not to mention the social rejection because he’s too “mature” for his peers antics.

- he’d be super socially unaware for his age group. being an only child surrounded by adults (yet forever alone and isolated) would’ve prevented him from ever connecting with fellow kids and their interests.

- so now he likes doing a lot of random “childish” things like skating down the halls in the manor, having a gamer chair as his office chair, playing his nintendo switch in his wayne ent office when he’s bored, having bento box lunches filled with sugary cereal and roll ups, having a mini fridge in his office exclusively filled with yakults, strawberry milk and coffee milk boxes, being fully versed in gen z lingo (which he uses correctly don’t worry) that he uses to talk to people he works with and interacts with at galas etc etc.

- likes to leave little notes in library books for the next people to find; often mildly threatening like “i know what you did”.

- definitely has minor nearsightedness (though he hardly ever wears his glasses, even if he looks really good wearing them).

- when he’s not drinking coffee, he’s chewing gum or mints to counteract the coffee.

- ambidextrous, but favours his left hand meaning his already inconceivably messy quick-notes are also smudged by his hand.

- hands are always cold and numb (leading everyone to believe he probably has rayynaud's syndrome).

- he gets really nervous and tries to avoid people being able to touch his hands, like when they’re handing something to him, or makes sure handshakes are firm and quick -but still respectful- etc (but he loves hand holding, he just worries no one would want to 🥺).

- really good at taking in information and his surroundings quickly.

- often points things out to people that would otherwise go unnoticed like “your eyes look really pretty today” or “your freckles have darkened from the sun” or “they ordered two sugars with their coffee… they always order three” etc.

- he doesn’t constantly say the things he’s thinking, but they come out a lot more when he’s loosing his filter from fatigue.

- he’s always apologising profusely for pointing out things bc he thinks they will think he’s weird or become uncomfortable.

- tim is allergic to almost all nuts except for almonds (wog runs through my veins, i refuse to believe he can’t eat almonds).

- he’s not like epipen allergic, all he needs it some cetirizine.

- bc of this “relatively low risk” (as he would say), if he accidentally eats a nut he’ll usually just not tell anyone while his throat is closing over and his mouth feels like it’s been attacked by mosquitoes.

- he’ll just silently slip away to buy some cetirizine or get some from his pocket/bag.

- this sweet old lady at a charity bake sale once offered tim to try a free slice of her rocky road and it had walnuts in it (btw you guys are monsters if you make the nutty rocky road).

- and he was too anxious to refuse so he took it and finished the whole thing in front of her.

- it took him about 20 minutes and to the point where he was crying and his lips looked like they had fillers that he whispered to bruce he was having a reaction.

- bruce was hysterical.

- he always carries cetirizine on him now just incase tim does that again.

[glygriffe]

Family matters

Characters - John Winchester, young Dean, young Sam

Summary - After an unexplainable house fire takes his beloved wife and two young children, a devasted and desperate John Winchester struggles to rebuild his family while confronted with his demons.

Word Count - 3,855

Warnings - Angst, Mental health issues, some violence

A note - An alternative origins story set in the Dark Angel universe, from John Winchester's POV.

John Winchester is a man possessed. Or at least obsessed. He has been talking of demons and bad spirits since an unexplainable house fire took his beloved wife and his two young children. So, possessed might be the right term.

For a time after the tragedy, he was a menace to families with young boys in his neighborhood, because every 4 or 5-year-old could be his oldest in his eyes, and any toddler could be his baby boy. He would try to get them back home with him. For a time, John Winchester was almost more often in police custody for disorderly conduct than at home drinking or reading lore about the supernatural. And "home" for him now was a dingy room above his auto shop, where he used to do the accounting for his business.

After some therapy (the charges never held, but therapy was still mandatory, and the warnings to stay away from local playgrounds and schoolyards were pretty convincing), John learned to stop talking constantly about how demons took his family away. It kept the authorities off his back. He is still convinced that something supernatural was at play with the loss of his family. But he tried to move passed it. He really tried to bury the idea that demons and monsters are real, and of taking revenge on them.

He sold his half of the garage to his business partner and moved to another state to start anew. After some wandering, he ended up in Sleepy Hollow, Wyoming. The name of the town is just too reminiscent of his interests in the occult not to stop there. And it's probably as good a place as any to start being a "normal" widower.

He works as a mechanic in a franchised repair shop and spends most evenings at the end of his days in bars around town. He doesn't want to feel, doesn't want to think. When his coworkers start hinting he might have a drinking problem, he drives to dive bars in surrounding cities instead. He's also thinking of quitting the repair shop: too many people there talking about their family bliss. Or about him.

It's another lonely night where he sits at the counter of a half-decent water hole on the fringe of Gillette when he overhears a drunk tell that he lost his job at a nearby government facility. He apparently poked around a project called Manticore where he shouldn't have.

Manticore. As in the legendary man-eating monster? Surely, it is a little too on the nose. All patrons in the bar seem to think that it is just customary drunken babble. On the other hand, governments aren't often subtle and not everybody read about every imaginable monster there is. John immediately forgets he is trying to live a supernatural-free life. His grief latches again on revenge and, suddenly, his upside-down world is almost put right side up.

He digs around and finds that the guy worked at a big private facility doing secretive government (or federal agency, locals are not sure) contracts. Nobody knows a lot, but even if most buildings in the compound are fairly new, one of them is rumored to be haunted, with stories of monsters in the basement to boot.

It looks as if this place might be a good training ground to find monsters (or demons) and learn how to beat the crap out of them. Or possibly interrogate them. His mind is not convinced that Mary and the kids are dead; they might just be captives of the spiritual world, somewhere, and demons are surely responsible for that.

The guy that got sacked was doing equipment maintenance there. As a mechanic, he probably has the basic qualifications to do that, and the job is probably open…

He already did some manipulation to clean his permanent record of the misdemeanors his gravitating around playgrounds had peppered in there (it turns out that a lot of employers are finicky about criminal records), so he applies right away. They're mostly looking for loners that are skilled, disciplined, don't ask too many questions, and keep their mouths shut. John thinks he will feel right at home there and he can channel all his drive into solving this (maybe) supernatural problem by slaying the beast, be it metaphorically or literally.

It's not gratifying work, but the stern hierarchy of the company that kind of runs like a branch of the military is surprisingly soothing to him. It is a structure he knows well from his years in the Marines. And he is alone from his department on the evening shift, which is fine by him, having fewer people trying to make friends with him. He's mostly just waiting for a piece of equipment to break down. So, he has a lot of time on his hands to explore discreetly for a couple of months.

Now John is a man with a mission. He feels alive again, having a purpose. During his boring non-bothered shifts, he walks around the fenced-in compound (a pack of cigarettes in hand in case someone asks why he's there), noting how many people and cameras secure the place. In his down time, he's mostly in his apartment, meticulously studying floor plans for every building in the compound.

He figures out the best place where they would keep some foul creatures. (Because that company is shady as hell; he would not put it past them to keep monsters handy, or to conjure dark spirits to obtain favors.) It is the most guarded building in the whole place. It could be something else, (there are so many secrets here) but he'll try anyway. He has nothing to lose, and revenge fills his stomach with a warm feeling that cheap whiskey can't beat.

When he finally tests his planning skills on site, he is pleased with the results. He estimated quite accurately how many guards are on patrol and their usual schedule in and out of the building. His heart rate is under control, he avoids all cameras without breaking a sweat. He planned multiple entry and escape routes, focusing on the optimal ones the same way he did when he was in service. His terrain skills are not too rusty, even if it's been quite a while since he used them.

Figuring out how to unlock the door to the basement was the thing that he worked on for months beforehand and he was the most nervous about. But he didn't trigger any alarm doing it. When he sneaks into the poorly lit basement, he does indeed hear some growling and howling creatures from behind faraway closed doors, very similar to what the rumors were reporting. In addition to his small crowbar and his wire cutters, he came with silver bullets in his gun, a brazing blow torch, and some salt for good measure. He is prepared to face anything. Or so he thinks.

Because what he hears, clear as a fine tune radio, just around the corner from where he stands, is the muted struggles of a small body against a bigger one, and the rapid irregular tapping of arms and legs against the cement floor. Popping his head at the intersection of the gray hallway, John sees two guards. They barely restrain a child (buzz cut, a bit stocky in his pajama-like uniform) who is fighting tooth and nail to reach a smaller boy (slightly longer hair and slender frame, but same type of clothes) on the floor. The latter is the one making the tapping sounds (jerky movements of booted legs, eyes closed, head tilted back); he is having some kind of epileptic episode.

-492, stand down! What are you even doing down here? Go back to your unit immediately. That's an order! At that, the buzz-cut kid loses some of his steam. Apparently, he is trained to obey orders, even if he is probably not up to the dress code since he doesn't have any shoes or boots on.

The second guard looks behind his shoulder at the small boy whose body has stopped spasming. Buzz cut makes a strangled sound looking at him, but the guard seems nonchalant about the whole ordeal. - I think he's a goner. Might as well save us the trouble and bring him directly to the morgue. - No! Sev? SEV!!! The older kid's voice is pained and panicked. All his combativity comes back in an instant.

This is all a little too much for John watching the scene from afar. His stomach is in a knot and he is losing his grip on reality. From a distance, the name shouted by the boy sounds too much like 'Sam', and his mind superimposes images of his sons on the two boys before his eyes. He doesn't think, his gut instinct taking over: his feet are already moving towards the lot of them, his mouth silently making a "Sammy" shape.

Everything happens at once.

In a blur, the older boy attacks, striking the guard in front of him with two swift motions to run to his friend (or sibling?) on the floor. He throws himself on the ground to hoist the little one into a half-sitting, half-kneeling position. He's howling now, like a wounded animal, and the creatures hidden behind some of the doors howl with him. The shout of pain cannot escape the man's throat, his leg at a weird angle after the boy targeted his knee, but his windpipes crushed while he was still crumpling down (almost in slow motion).

And in the same moment, John Winchester is charging, gun aimed at the still standing man in the hallway, the one reaching for his nightstick. The silver bullet hit a chunky piece of thigh, and a scream of agony comes from the second guard who collapses to the ground, near the first one. John swoops in and throws some salt into the men's faces, just in case. (This clearly put them in pain, both of them, but he's not sure if it is because they are demons or because they now have a bunch of salt in their eyes.) He kicks the nearest man in the head to make sure he stays down, checking they don't have guns of their own (just the nightsticks), grabs the two boys managing to keep his gun at the ready, and starts retreating swiftly backward to keep the threat in sight.

He turns a corner into a new corridor even darker than the one they just left, the boys still crushed to his chest, and for a moment John is completely disoriented. With an uncooperative eight-year-old that could take down a grown man without too much of a fuss with his bare hands and feet, his exit could have been excruciatingly difficult, if not downright impossible. That is if even he could remember where to go next.

For now, he is just trying to silently coax buzz cut boy to get with the program and stop fighting him. He roughly grabs the collar of the weird pajamas top to stare closely into the huge eyes to convey his intent. The other kid, just dead weight on his shoulder, is hindering his movements (but he doesn't want to think about it, about the possibility that the little boy is dead).

From this close, he can't miss the stubborn wrinkle forming between the boy's eyebrows and the tension in his shoulders: the young'un is about to throw a punch. John has a split second to decide if he wants to strike first or find another way to defuse the situation. But then the smaller child whimpers and the little fury immediately calm himself. Sev (or is it Sam?) is definitively not dead. John feels his shoulders relax. Looking at each other, the half-pint soldier and the full-grown Marine both realize that their little protege will be alright, that they all going to be alright if they can just get out of this place.

He can feel the tension lift from the stocky boy. After a beat, still nose to nose with him in the dark basement, the kid gives one sharp nod and slowly wiggles out of John's arms. It's obvious he thinks he and his buddy are relatively safe for now. He gives Sev's still limp and sweaty body a little reassurance pat and goes seamlessly into full reconnaissance mode. It is quite impressive. Totally focus, totally silent, using military signs to indicate to John the way to go and the moves to make.

This is not a situation John Winchester ever thought he would find himself in: following a kid's silent orders. He cannot say he is a big fan of that, but he knows it’s the best scenario for now.

When they are finally out of the building, John takes back the lead. The lad's bare feet are quite silent when they have to walk momentarily down a gravel path to reach his optimized escape route. He shushes the little one in his arms that is regaining some awareness of the world around him. They almost reached the parking lot where his big black car is waiting for him on the other side of the eight-foot-high chain-link fence when the alarm starts blaring.

Again, so fast John cannot really see him do it, the kid reaches the top of the fence, hangs himself upside down by his knees, extending his arms and wriggling his fingers to indicate John should transfer the younger boy to him while he climbs. The transfer is awkward. He is reluctant to let go of his charge whose features bring back memories of his own son. His lack of focus almost gets him kicked in the face by a boot when Sam (Sev) tries to help in the change of hands. But the siren is now coupled with gunshot sounds and all John's instincts kick back in, telling him they have to be on the move. Telling him to stay in the present.

Long distance shots start to ricochet around them as they jump off the fence. Sev is supported by the other boy who looks at John to know where to go now. He points to his car while fishing for his key, and they manage to get into the car without too much damage.

He doesn't go back to his apartment. He drives two towns over before stopping at a motel. Tells a groggy Sev and his hyperalert friend to stay in the car until further notice. It is only when the desk clerk gives him a suspicious look along with the room key that he realizes he's bleeding.

Back at the car, he opens the trunk to get the first aid kit and his duffle before passing them on to his new sidekick; that gives him the freedom to carry the little one with ease for the first time. Without meaning to (not really), he presses his cheek to the boy's head.

In the motel room, he sets Sev on the bed nearest the entryway. He locks the door, closes the drapes, and directs the light of a desk lamp on the prone kid. He starts a superficial inspection, making sure that no stray bullet buried itself in the young flesh. Buzz cut stands near the bed, alert and ready to open the first aid kit at the first sign of injuries. John must admit that he is impressed by the older kid's attitude and demeanor during the whole ordeal, starting when he took point to get out of the Manticore basement.

Now that the adrenaline is starting to wear off, John is asking himself the important questions he has been ignoring until that moment. Like, what were those two kids doing in that building, surrounded by soldier-like guards in a hallway full of reinforced doors like prison cells? Why both of them are wearing pajamas-like uniforms?

Still thinking, he's gently palping every limb, brushing his thumb under the little fringe of hair on Sev's forehead, turning his head to examine his neck and behind his ears. For a moment, he is reminded of that time Sammy had an ear infection and he was the only one able to get him to sleep, all cuddled in his arms. He is still looking at the child, but images of his son are merging with what his visual sense provides.

Until he sees it. A tattoo on the back of the kid's neck: a bar code with a number. He saw something similar on the older boy, too. It makes him see them more as Holocaust survivors than it does his children, now. Even if Sev looks an awful lot like Sammy would at this age. So, he gets back to the task at hand. Other than the exhaustion that came with the seizure, there is nothing wrong with the boy.

John sits on the other bed, a little more relaxed even if his side is starting to hurt like hell. He signals the other one: "Your turn."

When he sees the kid fidgeting with the first aid kit still in his hands, he adds: "Don't worry, he's ok. I'll get him some orange juice or some other sugary drink soon to boost his energy a bit. - He needs tryptophan or milk. Or both. - Tryptophan? - I heard a nurse call it that. "

John hums as if he understands, tugging the boy's hand to make him stand in front of him, between the two beds. When he feels reluctance, he looks sharply into the green eyes. The message is clear and the little soldier now stands at attention, letting himself be examined thoroughly.

There are some fresh cuts and scrapes on his body, nothing too serious, and some older scars including a burn mark on his calf. A bad one. He brusquely put the bottom of the kid's pajamas back down on his leg, reaching to examine the first boy again, weary he missed a burn on this one. Of course, he didn't. His mind is just playing tricks on him.

He tells himself he's just being thorough, but in reality, he can't help but reach out to Sam. A firm but gentle squeeze on a shoulder, a pat on a cheek, as if his skin remembers being a father. He would ruffle his hair if it were long enough to do so. The boy is awake now, if weak looking. John smiles at him before gesturing to the first aid kit. When Buzz cut gives it to him, he goes to the bathroom to quickly clean his wound. He presses some gauze onto his side, fixing it in place with tape. He removes the paper covering the glass on the counter and fills it with water. He can see through the half-open door that the older boy is sitting next to Sev and talking softly to him. For the first time, he looks at ease, even though he regularly glances furtively towards the bathroom.

He goes back into the room to give the water to Sev. He focuses on what the older boy said earlier and, looking from one kid to the other, asks: "Tell me about tryptophan." When there is no response from either of them, the little one looking a bit confused and out of it, he turns towards the half-pint soldier: "Now, son." The kid is back at attention between the beds

- It's … It's some kind of pill that helps with the shakes. It didn't help that much today because he already got the shakes yesterday and Sev couldn't rest today; he went for special training at PsyOps. He's always drained when he comes back from PsyOps.

He caught himself and the boy off guard calling him 'son'. But the voice is foreign to him and the kid looks nothing like his eldest did the last time he'd seen him. Those green eyes have nothing in common with the hazel he remembers all members of his family to have.

The kid's eyes shift to the bed, seeking reassurance from the other boy even if the little one is back asleep. It is a profound bond that those boys share. Like family. - Is Sa… Is Sev your brother? - He's part of my unit, sir.

Unit. So… Child soldiers, without a doubt now. And more than the two of them, apparently. He supposes this is as close as a family as they get. - What's your name? - 492, sir.

John blinks. Even the military does not use service numbers to refer to soldiers. The older boy seems to take his incredulity as a response to some kind of insubordination, so he hastily stands straighter and quickly recites: - My designation is X5-331845739492, sir. - How come he's Sev and you're… 492? - He's X5-331845741027. - You don't have names? Sev stands for… Seven?

492 almost shrugs: "I… I have a bad habit of shortening words, sir. And since Sev is younger than all of us, it felt right to use a smaller designation."

He rubs his face with his hand while pacing the space between the front door and the bathroom, trying to make sense of it all. Bar-codes, like properties, and no names. A mix between livestock and weapons if his assessment is correct.

Sam whines softly in his sleep and man and boy alike get closer to the bed to make sure he is alright. That doesn't sound like any weapon he has ever seen before. He should get to a drugstore and a mini-mart to buy some anti-seizure medicine, juice boxes, and milk for the kids. Also, clothes. They will stand out like sore thumbs walking about in those weird uniforms and with no shoes. He stops his train of thoughts at that: Is he really considering keeping these children? He cannot take them back, of course. That is not a life for kids.

But John Winchester's life is a mess, too. Can he take care of two kids while going after monsters or demons (or whatever took his own family)? He has a horrible thought: What if all the creatures howling in that basement were children instead of monsters?

He looks back at the boys as a way of grounding himself. 492 is back to sitting next to Sam (the little one is definitively Sam for him, now, since he looks so much like his lost son and he doesn't have a name of his own), rubbing his fingers on the sleeve of the younger boy in a soothing gesture, looking intently as if he could will the tremors not to come back to shake the small frame of his friend. Of his brother. Of John's son.

This time, the use of the word doesn't feel foreign to him. With a nod of his head, John makes up his mind. Fishing his car keys from his pocket to get to a store that is open all night, he puts his other hand on the doorknob and turns towards 492:

- I'm gonna call you Dean.

[remosdeerica]

Batshit AU Pt #2: The Grandkids

So I mentioned in the last post Batshit AU Pt. #1 that I cover Dick and Jason's kids but since I've been thinking (read: fantasizing) about the future of the Batfam I figured I'd just do a post with ALL the grandkids!

Just a heads up: this is a LONG post.

First we shall start with the Grayson's:

Mar'i and Jake (Jake is not my original name I've seen it pop up in other media- dunno if it's canon in any timeline but I'm going with it).

Mar'i Grayson: Mar'i is the biologically daughter of Dick Grayson and Koriand'r of Tamaran (aka Starfire). Kori is unknowingly pregnant after one last one-night-stand with Dick before going back to her home planet to take over as queen. Unfortunately, because of Kori's sister Komand'r (aka Blackfire) causing civil unrest to try and usurp the thorn from her, Tamaran becomes unsafe for Mar'i as she is Kori's only heir.

-Kor'i goes back to Earth with an infant Mar'i and begrudgingly hands her over to Dick so she can live with him and be safe from Blackfire.

-Kori of course visits while she can but has a lot of responsibilities on Tamaran. When Mar'i is older she is able to go back to Tamaran to visit her mother.

-A few years later when Dick and Barbra get married, Barbra officially adopts Mar'i. Seeing both Kor'i and Barbra as her mothers Mar'i decides so call Kori "Mama" and Barbra "Mom/Mommy".

Jake Grayson: don't have much of an exciting backstory for him. He was basically just an orphaned infant Dick and Barbra decided to adopt after his bio-parents had been murdered.

Now he have the Todd family:

Because I am a heartless monster I decided that since Roy died in the comics without any sign of Lian and Jason was pretty fucked up about it, I would have Jason adopt Lian because Roy wasn't round to take care of her. So this is basically what happened:

Lain Harper-Todd: 1 year or so after Roy's death, Jason is visited by Jade Nguyen (aka Cheshire) who is carrying an infant Lian. Jade explains that she hadn't realised she was pregnant with Roy's child until after he was already dead and since she is not ready to give up her life as an assassin she states that Lian is better off without her. She then asks Jason if he would be willing to take Lian in as Roy's former partner (read into that how you will).

-Jason agrees, and decides to hyphenate her last name Harper-Todd so that she will always have a piece of Roy with her even if he can't be there for her in person.

it's not that I don't think JayRoy is cute! It's just that I honestly I don't really picture Jason dating anyone in my mind and the thought of him being a single dad is just precious. I'm also allergic to OC's (of my own making) so I usually try to keep to characters that are at least canon in some timeline and Lian was the first to come to mind.

Also I'm a angst-hungry monster so...

Drake-Wayne/Dowd/McGinnis household:

Lol, this family has too many names.

I already went over Terry and Matthew McGinnis' backstory in Batshit AU Pt. #1 but if you are too lazy/ don't feel like reading it I'll try to make sure to cover the important details.

Terry & Matthew McGinnis: A few years down the road, Tim is the current Batman and married to Bernard Dowd (my new fave batship). One night on patrol he finds the boys hunkered down behind an garbage container and approaches them.

-Terry is extremely protective of his younger brother Matt and becomes immediately aggressive, swinging a baseball around and threatening Tim to leave them alone.

-Tim finds it admirable/endearing that Terry is willing to face Batman alone in order to protect his brother and tells him so. He then asks them where there parents and and Matt (trusting Batman) tells Tim that they were killed by the 'Bad Men' who are now looking for he and Tarry.

-Tim is worried for the boys safety and offers to take them to the Police, but Tarry only says that they already tried that and that there are spies in the GCPD who ratted them out to the 'Bad Men'.

-Tim figures out that the boys are in more danger then he first realized and takes them home with him in order to protect them.

-Tim eventually finds out about Project Batman Beyond, an experiment orchestrated by A.R.G.U.S. in order to create the perfect child to usurp the Cowl and give A.R.G.U.S and 'in' with the Justice League and the super-community as a whole. A part of this project is making sure the children are biologically Bruce Wayne's in order for them to also gain influence over Wayne Enterprises.

-Tim realizes that there is no real safe place that he can send the boys and after discussing it with his husband, Bernard, the two decide to adopt the boys.

I think this adoption story is one of my favourites. Especially because I find the idea of Bernard not at all being surprised by his husband brining home black-haired blue-eyes orphans, hilarious.

Bernard: I figured since you are now Batman it was only a matter of time.

Tim: >:(

Wayne-Kent situation:

DamiJon is one of my absolute favourite ships in existence. But since both boys are so young in canon my version of their future relationship truly is creature of my own design, I will explain them a little and then the kids. I'll be quick about it. Promise. (There is also a 2 part series I'm working on that goes into my version of events called "Jon and Damian" if anyone is interested. Jon's chapter is done but Damian's is still in the works).

Jon: he is the one that I really have to explain. I call my version of him "Dark-ish Jon" or 'dark ish jon' for the tags. For those of you who already know the deal (or don't really care) y'all can skip to the *** for the kids.

-basically Jon was kidnapped by Jon-El (Clark's Kryptonian Bio-dad) in order for Jor-El to mold Jon into the perfect weapon for his plan to conquer the universe. They have a machine that Jumps through various timelines so no one can find them, and Jon-El trains/tortures Jon for 2 years.

-Jon eventually discovers new powers that allow him to kill Jor-El and escape but he ends up spending the next several years trying to find his original timeline.

-He eventually meets the Legion of Superheroes that help him get home, but once he arrives home he realizes that for him it has been 7 years since he was kidnaped, but only 2 weeks for his family/friends.

-Because of this he and his family find it hard to adjust to the new situation and Jon ultimately decides to return to the Legion but visit occasionally.

Damian: Honestly I don't think I really have to explain much about Damian for y'all to get the kids but I do want you to know:

He has long hair

He has peirced ears

Possibly tattoos?

He's has more of a slim figure than Bruce's bulky one

He is a fashion icon and kinda has 'bitchy white girl' energy

Bacically he very pretty and looks a LOT like Thalia

And yeah. The two eventually reconcile after Jon is done moping in another timeline and they decide to retire from crime fighting and build a cottage/farm and live in peace.

***

Athanasia: So she is actually Bruce's bio-kid from the Injustice timeline. And for my AU she is still Bruce's biologically and she does recognize him as her father, but because she and Damian are 13/14 years apart and she knows him better she lives and defers to him as her caretaker. I shall explain:

-Athanasia was created by Thalia in a fit of madness after Damian's death. Because of what happened to Damian, and because Athanasia turned out to be a girl (and therefor Ra's would have no use for her), Thalia keeps the little girl locked away and a secret so that no one can harm her.

-Years pass and Athanasia has never seen the outside would. Eventually something happens (will depends on the Fic -because I will get around to writing this shit eventually) and Athanasia is given to Damian (the only other person Thalia ever told her about.)

-At this point Bruce is getting older and most of his current children already have their own kids, so both he and Damian agree that because Athanasia is mostly attached to Damian and doesn't really know who Bruce is outside of being her father, that she will live with he and Jon.

-Athanasia get's older and eventually meets another girl at her school named Carrie Kelley. The girls form a quick bond, Carrie's louder personality complementing Athanasia's more quiet one.

Carrie Kelley: being best friends with Athanasia leads to Carrie spending a lot of time over at her house. This allows Jon and Damian to get to know the girl and become quite fond of her.

-one night after a sleepover at Jon and Damian's house with some of their other friends, Carrie's father comes to the house drunk and carrying a shot gun. He accuses Jon and Damian of being pedophiles because of their sexual orientations and calls them a variety of homophobic slurs.

-It's his attempts at shooting Jon that leads to Carrie calling 911 and having her own father arrested.

-Because her mother had already left and Carrie only had her dad to take care of her, Jon and Damian offer her a place in their home and eventually adopt her along with Athanasia when the girls are teenagers.

So, yeah! That's it for now. I am absolutely obsesses with this AU. I just love the idea of Bruce deciding to take in Dick leading to him having an army of children and grandchildren so large that all family gatherings have to happen at the Manor because nowhere else is big enough.

[whale-minmin]

hiya, tysm for having your requests open so often i think that’s really cool of you :) could i request a scenario with yandere jay from enhypen where his s/o tries to escape by pretending to order a pizza but actually calling the police and disguising her call for help as an order and him catching her in the act? thank you!!

caught | jay park

♛ Genre : yandere

♛ tw : obsessive behavior, abuse, strong language

"Baby, should we order take-out?" Jay hummed, running his fingers through his hair. "What would you want to eat?" He asked, playing with your hair. "Pizza?" You replied, a bit unsure. "Sure. Order, i'll go get the money" He gave you his phone before leaving the room. You searched for the closest pizzeria next to you and got their phone number.

Just as you were about to call it, you hesitated. What if this could be your big chance? He kept you trapped in here for so long, killed so many people, what if you could finally put an end to this?

You dialed the number to the police and waited until they picked up. “112, state your emergency” You gulped, your hands shaking as Jay entered the room. "Hello, are you still open? Could i order a pizza?" Jay frowned at how unusual you were acting but he didn't make a big deal out of it. “..Of course, we are open until 10pm” Thank god, the caller got it. You glanced at Jay who just mumbled 'you pick'.

"Umm.. A medium one with cheese and meat? The address is.." You succesfully told them the address. Finally. Finally you could get out. You could be free. "Give me the phone for a while" Jay said, reaching out his hand to take it. You froze, not knowing what to do. You tried to move away from him but he snatched it from you. He saw the emergency number, ending the call. "..Fuck." He sighed shakily. "I knew it" Jay chuckled, throwing the phone on the couch. He caught you.

You curled up in a ball, knowing that you were in big trouble. "Well, kitten, you're quite smart." He laughed, petting your head. "Too bad it's not going to work. You were so close" He sighed, fixing his shirt. "You're going to get arrested, and-"

"No. You'll deny everything, saying it was just the wrong number. Or i can just kill them, and your mother. And that would be a shame, right?" He cut you off, raising an eyebrow. "Well?" You started shaking, tears running down your cheeks. You knew too well he wasn't kidding. Not at all. "Now, we can't have them seeing you're crying, can we? Shh, baby" He kissed your tears off, caressing you cheek. You could tell he was mad, although he didn't show it.

You slowly calmed down, hiding your face in your knees. "Gosh, is this what i get when i just want to spend a nice evening with my love? I even let you use my phone" He groaned, disappointed. He sat beside you on the couch, waiting.

After some time there was a knock on the door. "Go on, love. Remember what i said." He kissed you before leaving the room. The police couldn't see him.

"Hello..?" You opened the door, seeing the police officers. "Are you the take-out caller?" You nod, gulping. "..Yes. Is the pizza here or-?" You needed to bite your cheek so you didn't cry again. You hated him so much. "Miss, we are the police, you called us, what's wrong?" You didn't know how long can you hold back anymore, the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "O-Oh? I must have called the wrong number then.. I'm so so sorry for wasting your time" You gasped, bowing to them quickly. They were really annoyed but nod and left, just giving you a warning beforehand.

You closed the door, feeling Jay back-hugging you. "Good girl" He hummed, grinning. "Now, i'll make sure you'll never fucking think of doing that again"

This was going to be a long night.

≈≈≈≈≈ a/n ≈≈≈≈≈

Thank you for requesting! I hope you like it! ♡♡♡

≈≈≈≈≈

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

-

Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[i-watch-too-many-movies]

5 Favorite First Viewings of July 2021

Quick note: Hi everyone, I'm back, things have honestly been getting better for me, and I'm glad to be on this site full of cinephiles, people that are too horny, and cinephiles that are too horny. I'll be more active on here. But anyway, let's talk about some movies.

Beyond the Valley of the Dolls (1970) (dir. Russ Meyer)

CW: Abortion mention

What a picture. What a gorgeous, sexy, horrifying slice of what Hollywood and star life can do to a bunch of bright-eyed young people looking for success. Also is a critique of how macho nature can ruin friendships and romantic relationships with total ease. I was obsessed with the scene transitions, like Pet pouring pancake mix onto a plate after the abortion scene, or Kelly singing after someone screams before their murder in the opening scene.

Great, campy flick with exceptional music too.

Deep Cover (1992) (dir. Bill Duke)

Laurence Fishburne plays Russell Stevens, a Cincinnati police officer who hopes to do well by the community, to make a difference. He’s traumatized by the death of his substance-abusing father, and wants to make sure that he can help the people of his own town. He goes undercover on assignment as a drug dealer, where his boss orders him to take down the kingpin. Stevens realizes the police’s own failings while on assignment. The racist abuse he takes from Agent Carver, and the realization that the police department is protecting drug kingpins like Gallegos and Barbossa. Giving drugs to Black kids and Latinx kids so there will be less of them. The cops are no different than the drug kingpins looking to make filthy amounts of money.

Fishburne’s performance is excellent, as Stevens feels he has to maintain a stone face so he doesn’t get caught by Jason or Barbossa or any of his cronies, but also he maintains a stone face to try and hide his emotion, his trauma. But when he gets pissed, Fishburne acts it beautifully, as is when he has to deliver a funny quip to counter Jason’s douchebaggery. And the production design, holy fuck, the sets and the lighting.

A perfect neo-noir for the HW Bush years, arguably one of the most timeless commentaries on the era, as well as the police as a whole.

Fast Five (2011) (dir. Justin Lin)

I was torn between including this or Furious 7, but I ultimately went with Fast Five because it felt like an important turning point in the series, it's a great heist film, and it reached the same chaotic highs and genuinely excellent filmmaking that I had been waiting for since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift.

Fast Five opens where Fast & 4ious left off. Dom is hauled away to prison on a bus. Mia and Brian drive in their high-tech cars and knock the bus over, helping Dom escape. The title drops. Fast Five. It’s such an intense yet short action scene, and dropping the title immediately after it lets the viewer know that this movie is not fucking around. It’s arguably gonna be more intense and insane than the previous one.

And it is. The filmmakers made the decision to use a lot more practical stunt work for the film, and as a result, it leads to, so far, the best action in the entire series, since 2 Fast and Tokyo Drift. It’s not just how it’s shot or edited, it’s the geography of the locations, the rooftop chase echoes the rooftop chase of Jackie Chan’s masterwork Police Story, particularly the way each character bounces from top to top.

And of course, there’s the silliest moment in the movie, the one that matches the intensity and kineticism of a film like 2 Fast, which is driving the Reyes’ bank vault throughout the street, getting chased by corrupt cops.

I know we make fun of Vin Diesel for saying “family” all the time in these films, but there’s a reason we remember him saying all of these impassioned monologues. Because he’s unbelievably sincere, and has so much love in his heart for every single person in the room. Anytime he delivers a speech to any of them, it’s genuinely heartwarming.

This is the film that finally shows La Familia in their best environment, which is working together, in a movie genre that allows them to work together, which is a heist film. And a great one at that.

Last Days (2005) (dir. Gus Van Sant)

CW: Mention of suicide

Several films have been made about legendary rock artist Kurt Cobain, and for good reason. He is one of the most tragic figures in rock and roll. A tortured genius who has written and performed classic song after classic song with his band Nirvana. He was called the voice of a generation, and helped change the face of mainstream alternative rock music as we know it. But with that fame, and all of those expectations came a worsening depression and further drug abuse, and his eventual death. But most of the films about Kurt Cobain ask one question which gets under my skin way too much:

“Who REEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLY killed Kurt Cobain?”

It was him. He did. And it’s okay, I’m sad too. Thinking that Kurt Cobain was murdered is completely ignoring the depression that he faced. And despite Last Days being more inspired by the death of Cobain rather than actually about it, it feels much more honest than the conspiracy documentaries on his death, wanting to leech off of his dead body.

This is the last installment of Gus Van Sant’s “Death Trilogy”, the previous two installments being Gerry (2001), and Elephant (2003). While I have not seen Gerry, I have seen Elephant though, and love that film for its minimalist, raw nature, and its boldness for not romanticizing the school shooter or the lives they had taken. Last Days falls into that trap once, as I don’t agree with the shot of Blake’s soul climbing up a ladder, that always struck me as cheesy in a film that is anything but.

Last Days is similar to Elephant in terms of the way it is filmed. Its usage of long takes, and still shots of characters doing various things, such as Blake playing his guitar behind a drum set. The way these moments are shot is similar to a Chantal Akerman film, particularly Jeanne Dielman. Where the acts of the mundane are the stars of the film. Blake wanders around an empty house, and the viewer can feel the pain, not just through Michael Pitt’s acting, but from the house itself. Its decay, its paint peeling from the walls, from the soft glow of the lamp that lights his face.

I say this is the most honest film about Kurt Cobain, because, despite the characters technically being fictional (the main character who looks, walks, and acts like Cobain is named Blake), this film focuses on the mental state of a person before they eventually take their own life. They’re still working, still making music, still trying to talk to friends and bandmates, but the depression lingers on. Not once does this film try to make you believe that someone else killed him, because you can see the signs of his own suicide taking place just through the film’s excellent cinematography by Harris Savides, showing his mental state only growing worse through the production design.

And it’s empathetic with him. There’s no judgement for leaving rehab, there’s no finger-wagging at him or the people he was with, there’s just a silent prayer at the end of the film, hoping that he is in a better place than he was.

Sometimes you don’t need to show every event that led you to where you are, all you can show is the moment, which also makes this better than most biopics as well, as it never feels messy or muddled, just showing one moment of Blake/Kurt’s life.

I really loved this film, and I’ll be writing about it in full soon.

The Village (2004) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

The Cracked.com/Channel Awesome audience stuck in 2012 will tell you that this was the beginning of the end for Shyamalan. That this was when people stopped taking him seriously, that this was when he became more of a punchline because of his twist endings.

But why?

The Village was released in 2004, deep in the Bush administration, during the early stages of the Iraq War. The leaders of the time were talking about imaginary boogeymen, terrorists that would attack the civilians if they could. Because of 9/11, politicians could get away with these false ideas with the majority of Americans fully believing them. The boogeymen in The Village are “The People We Don’t Speak Of”, monsters attracted by the color red. Yet we find out that they are all costumes made by the Elders of the land, designed to prevent people from going outside the land. They rule by fear disguised as love. They’ve gone through their own traumas through the deaths of their family members, but they’ve decided to completely abandon the lives that they’ve had and have their children living lies.

9/11 impacted American life by teaching citizens to live primarily by fear, to not trust anyone but their own people. And yet, post-9/11, all that increased was not “coming together”, but hate crimes against South Asian people. The rage white Americans had felt led to conservative politicians pushing fear-mongering agendas, and said white Americans blindly accepted. The outside world was progressing, but too many people were fine with living with further conservative politics only regressing American life further and further back, all for the illusion of safety. Meanwhile, the only threats to them were not the brown citizens outside of America they were so afraid of, but the white elders, the white politicians.

The Village explores these fears so eloquently, all while having a terrifying atmosphere, an enchanting score, and brilliant sound design. I enjoyed this movie very much.

Other viewings I enjoyed:

Beavis and Butt-Head Do America (1996) (dir. Mike Judge) (re-watch)

Blow Out (1981) (dir. Brian de Palma) (re-watch)

Clueless (1995) (dir. Amy Heckerling) (re-watch)

Furious 7 (2015) (dir. James Wan)

The Long Goodbye (1973) (dir. Robert Altman)

Lupin III: The First (2019) (dir. Takashi Yamazaki)

Unbreakable (2000) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan) (re-watch)

Velvet Goldmine (1998) (dir. Todd Haynes)

The Visit (2015) (dir. M. Night Shyamalan)

[archivingspn]

2019: Twitter- Eric Kripke

therealKripke: “In honor of #SPN300, here's my original #SPN pitch from 2004. The pilot story is very different, but the tone always rang clear to me. Could never have imagined what this show became and the good it's done. Humbled and grateful beyond words to you all. #SPNFamily @cw_spn ‘[images of spn pilot’s 4pg script]’“ - 12:08 PM Feb 7, 2019

[source]

                                                                                                       1

Supernatural

Pitch by Eric Kripke August 30, 2004

I. TONE AND WORLD

In one sentence, this is X-FILES meets ROUTE 66. Two brothers, cruising the dusty back roads in their trusty 64 Mustang, battling the things that go bump in the night. But much more than that, it's a show about an obsession of mine...

Throughout the U.S., (especially the MIDDLE, where I'm from), we have a folklore, as uniquely American as baseball, as rich and varied as any world mythology, and almost nobody knows it. For instance, Robert Johnson sold his soul to the Devil, at an abandoned Mississippi crossroads, to be the world's greatest guitarist. But he died violently, poisoned at age 26, screaming about Hellhounds as he choked on his own blood. In the shadowy north woods of Minnesota, lives a creature named the Wendigo. Translated from Native American, it means "evil that devours.” It feeds on human flesh. And even today, dozens of witnesses say it's very real.

There are literally HUNDREDS of these stories and legends and urban legends. There are dark and dangerous things out there in the corners of our country. So here's a show that travels the diverse highways and byways of supernatural America. Black woods, ghost towns, those tourist trap mystery spots. Really, a show ABOUT our country-the bloody, beating heart of America.

Unlike X-FILES, this show isn't Vancouver rainy. It's brighter, more colorful, more VISCERAL, and more irreverent. The humor here is extremely important to me—but it has to arise from the characters and their attitudes. The characters can be funny, but the weekly stories have to be SCARY AS SHIT– I'm talking THE RING; how what you don't see is much more terrifying than what you do. I'm talking about making this series as scary as I possibly can, until you guys call and yell at me.

But I also want the tone to be GROUNDED. Where BUFFY, for example, felt HEIGHTENED, our show should feel like OUR WORLD, real-life America. With a darkness that bubbles and boils just beneath the surface. And I want to keep the weekly stories CREDIBLE- leave 'em with a question mark, the possibility of a rational explanation. Something early X-Files did very well.

Finally, I want this show to capture a certain SPIRIT. For one, that youthful electricity of dropping out and hitting the open road; the freedom of wide-open American spaces. But also, EVERY road trip story-from FEAR and LOATHING to Kerouac to The Odyssey, are inherently mythic quests, hero's journeys, real Joseph Campbell stuff. The way STAR WARS, LORD OF THE RINGS, and MATRIX are all the same story, with the same beats. So our series, too, is an epic hero's quest-- across the United States. Almost like a modern western, and our heroes are gunslingers. Or, as I like to call it - it's STAR WARS in TRUCK STOP AMERICA.

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II. CHARACTERS AND FRANCHISE

Now, let's get into establishing our characters, and launching our franchise.

So if this is STAR WARS, meet LUKE SKYWALKER. SAM HARRISON, 21. Think Jake Gyllenhall, or Tobey Maguire. Smart, funny, handsome, maybe a little type-A. He just graduated Stanford with a 4.0, and now he's heading back down to L.A., where he lives with his Aunt and Uncle, he'll spend the summer clerking at a powerful law firm. And in the Fall... Harvard Law, thank you very much. Pedal to the metal, Sam is cruising the track to success. But, like all good Luke Skywalker heroes, Sam is vaguely restless. He tells his girlfriend, maybe he should drop everything this summer and blow off to Europe. But of course, he doesn't. He has too many responsibilities.

Sam's well adjusted, successful life, it's a real triumph, especially considering his background. Fifteen years ago, his dad JACK became increasingly dark and depressed. He drank. A lot. Until Mom and Dad were in a car crash. Dad was driving. He lived. Mom didn't. That triggered a schizophrenic breakdown in Dad. He swore that twisted, dark, horrific things caused that crash and took Mom away. And those same dark things were chasing after him. Dad was institutionalized. But he escaped. And disappeared.

Sam is ashamed of his tragic past. Hates his Dad, blames him for killing Mom, and NEVER, EVER talks about it.

Now, Sam's mythic CALL TO ADVENTURE, the events that will change his life forever, begin simply enough. When his big brother DEAN rolls into town. Meet DEAN HARRISON, 25, think Colin Farrel. If Sam's the good kid, Dean's the troublemaker. If Sam's Luke Skywalker, Dean's Han Solo. Charismatic and dangerous. Cocky confidence masking a troubled soul. Sam hated Dad, but Dean was older and remembered Dad in brighter days, and he worshipped the man. Sam buried his past and ignored it, but Dean was haunted by it, never quite got his shit together. Dean never went to college. Just sort of traveled around. In fact, Sam hasn't heard from Dean in almost 3 years, which Sam clearly resents.

And now... Dean makes Sam a proposition. Let me drive you down to L.A.- it's just one day, we'll get a chance to catch up a little. Reluctant, Sam agrees.

At first, they're enjoying the electric, carefree pleasures of a ROAD TRIP. Top down, radio blaring, singing their lungs out to AC/DC.

But then... at twilight... on an empty stretch of highway... Dean's driving. And he has to make a confession. (Though I'm sure we'll break this up into a few different scenes.) "Sam. There's something I need to tell you," Dean says. “I went looking for Dad. And I found him. Took just about every dime I had, but I found him. And I've been with him, for almost 2 years." Sam is shocked and betrayed: "what?! Why didn't you tell me?!" But Dean continues: "listen. I know this is hard to believe. But Dad WASN'T nuts.

                                                                                                                    3

Demons really DID kill Mom. Dark, awful things WERE following Dad. I know. Because I can see them. Because they're following me, too."

Obviously, Sam is BEYOND freaked and well aware that schizophrenia is hereditary. Dean goes on, getting worked up-“so Dad figured out how to kill these things, and he showed me how. Until they caught up to us in Baker. They got Dad. Before I got them." "What do you mean, you GOT them?” asks Sam. “I killed a demon. In human form," says Dean. “You killed somebody?!" "No, I killed a DEMON, it only LOOKED human.” (Which could be a scary, visceral teaser, by the way.) Anyway, DEAN continues: “Listen to me, Sam... it was Dad's wish, his DYING WISH, that I find you, that I teach you the way he taught me.” At this point, Sam goes into placating, survival mode. “Okay. Sure. Just calm down." But Sam's terrified-of his own brother.

Meanwhile, as this conversation's going on, Dean isn't going to L.A. He takes a detour-- for all intents and purposes, kidnapping Sam. They pull into a small, faded, all-American town in Central California. It's 1950's American optimism gone to seed. Basically, they pull right into the pilot's SELF ENCLOSED B-STORY. Whatever it is, the story should be simple, giving us room to focus on the brothers. It should be based in Folklore. And it should be personal—the job their father never completed.

Now, here's an example of exactly the kind of story I'm talking about. The real life ghost story of the "Weeping Woman," a sobbing wraith in a bloody white nightgown. She murdered her children by the river side, as revenge against her unfaithful husband. And today, it's said she lures unfaithful men to the river and drowns them. And sure enough, several MEN in this town have turned up dead by the river's edge. Anyway, something like this. And Dean, despite his smart ass jokes and references to the movie Poltergeist, seems to be taking this SERIOUSLY.

But Sam doesn't believe a WORD of it. First moment he's alone, he calls his Aunt and Uncle. “I'm with Dean, I think he's sick.” They tell him—"cops in Baker found your Dad's body. And a truck driver's body, too. Dean's the suspect. You have to get away! Where are you?!” But before Sam can answer-he pivots, right into Dean. Who grabs the phone, SMASHING it, furious: “Dammit, Sam, I'm not insane," Dean says, “Caspar the unfriendly fucker is really out there!"

Then, as Dean delves deeper and deeper into the ghost story, dragging a reluctant Sam along with him... INEXPLICABLE SUPERNATURAL phenomenon begin to occur, which SERIOUSLY RATTLES Sam. We'll have several good, scary set pieces. And soon, Sam doesn't know WHAT to think. And in the B-STORY'S climax, he'll even save Dean at some crucial point. (Though we'll be careful to leave things open ended, with just the possibility of a logical explanation.)

Afterwards, a beat in which Dean, vulnerable, says to his brother-"I've been thinking. And you're going home, Sam. You're smart, and you've got everything going for you. I don't care what Dad said, I can't let you live like this... Still," says Dean, "it was nice having you around. When you're with somebody... you just don't feel as crazy as

                                                                                                                   4

often." Sam's very conflicted, and he feels awful, but he can't just abandon his old life. So the brothers part ways. Sam hitchhikes up the road. Meanwhile, thanks to his Aunt and Uncle, the cops have been searching for Sam, and now they find him.

At the station, Sam tells the cops, Dean's in Colorado by now. But a patrol car has spotted Dean's parked Mustang at a nearby motel. The police grab SHOTGUNS, they're going to take Dean with force. And in the face of ONE PASSING COP, Sam sees-a glimpse. A shimmer. Something DEMONIC and INHUMAN flashes across the cop's face-and then it's gone, just as quick. Did Sam imagine it? Is he going insane, too? Or is Dean really in danger? Are dark, awful things really after him, like he said?

This is Sam's crossroads moment. And he makes a decision-he takes off. Steals a car. Beats the cops back to Dean. Warns him at the last minute. It's very TIGHT and very HECTIC, but Sam and Dean get away. Escaping by the skin of their teeth.

As we leave Sam... he doesn't know if he's losing his mind. He doesn't know if Dean's a hero or a homicidal schizophrenic. All he knows is-Dean's his brother, and he needs help. And for now, that's enough.

III. THE SERIES ITSELF

I think the overall GOAL here, is building an engine that gives us SELF ENCLOSED STORIES. I am gonna pitch some very simple mythology, but STAND ALONES are a format I really believe in, they're the shows I loved and grew up on. Like the best EARLY episodes of X-FILES.

So basically, our two heroes, avenging their parents' death, cruise the golden backroads of America-picture chrome diners and bucolic farms and dusty Route 66 towns. Places that are mythic and American, but also haunting, in a way. Places where horror can strike in broad daylight. Sam and Dean are kind of like classic gunslingers, or dragon slayers, finding-and KILLING—the monsters of American folklore.

So first question-how do they find the damn things? Dean tracks these creatures in a low-tech way. He scans obituaries for strange deaths. Dean also has a loose network of contacts - defrocked ministers and trailer park psychics, who impart information to our heroes whenever necessary.

Second question-how do they KILL the damn things? The answer—they have no fucking idea. They're outgunned and desperate and in completely over their heads. They don't have a WATCHER, like in BUFFY. They don't have an OBI WAN. They're on their own. Each week, they gotta figure out what the hell they're dealing with, and how the hell to kill it. And a lot of the time, they're wrong, and they have to improvise. Whether it's finding a ghost's remains - and burning them into dust; or loading a shotgun with silver buckshot, our guys will do whatever it takes to get the job done.

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (11)

In Which The Metaphorical Crap Hits The Metaphorical Fan

Who authorized this angst in my crack fic?

Ao3 | FF.net

BWAAAAAAAA

BWA-BWAHHHHH

BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“Where did you get a harmonica?” Adrien whispered.

BWAAAAAAAA

BWA-BWA-WAAAHHHHHH

“Wish I was back in Texas.

The ocean's no place for a squirrel.

Wish I was in Texas,

Prettiest place in the world, oh no.”

“Are you going to answer my question? Or are you going to continue to serenade your cellmates?”

“I guess deep in my heart,

I'll always be a Texas girl.”

“We’re in jail, you know. Maybe that’s not a big deal for you, but it is for me!”

“I wanna go hoooooome, home.”

Adrien scoffed and sunk into the pocket, sulking. Of course, since he was in a Kwami’s body, he was not in jail. He could leave at any time. In fact, he wanted to. Desperately. Jail, cells, bars, they were all part of his greatest nightmare. 

But he stayed with Plagg. 

They hadn’t been given a reason for arrest. Just, slapped with cuffs and hulled out of the Lahiffe household. 

Plagg went quietly. Asking no questions and offering no protests. It was like he knew what was to come. 

Adrien couldn’t fathom the speed at which things happened. 

And where the hell did Plagg get that harmonica?

BWAAHHHHHH

“Alright alright, Mr. Agreste. Enough with the music. Give it here!” An officer approached the bars, hand outstretched. 

“Are you going to tell me what I’m in here for?”

The officer huffed. “We were asked to scare you straight. Your father said you were traveling a road of self-destruction, and thought a night in jail would help clear your mind.” 

“That’s what I thought.” He stepped back, and continued to play his harmonica. 

BWAAAAAAAA

“Hey, I said hand over the harmonica!” 

“If you want it, you have to come get it.” 

“Oh, you don’t want me to, kid. Just make this easy and hand it over.” 

“Do you often arrest kids for no reason?” Plagg asked instead. 

The policeman crossed his arms.  Plagg could read his nameplate, which said Daryl. “I’m not sure what ‘no reason’ is to you...but your father sure gave me an earful of what you’ve been up to. I have a nephew your age. If he was doing the crap you were, I’d hall his ass in here too to straighten him out.” 

“And what, pray tell, did my father say I was doing?” 

“Drugs. For one thing. Running around with some local gangs. Theft. Getting violent. Playing hooky.” 

Plagg groaned. “Man, I hate to say it, but you got played. Sure, if I was doing all that, I wouldn’t blame my father for asking you to scare me straight. But that’s not what happened. Look at me. Do you think I would jeopardize these good looks for some drugs or fights?” 

Officer Daryl pulled a stool over and took a seat. 

“Alright, let’s hear your side of the story, then.” 

“First of all, I should have called you guys on him. He’s a tyrant! He’s the most self-centered, emotionally constipated, jerk-hole in Paris. And we’re French! That’s saying a lot!” 

“Does he physically harm you?” Daryl asked with concern. 

“Well...no. I wouldn’t put it past him, but not yet, at least.” 

“Does he provide a clean, safe environment for you?” 

“Almost too safe...” Plagg muttered. 

“Does he withhold necessities? Such as food, shower, or a bed?” 

“No, he cuts me off socially though. And he neglects my emotional needs. He thinks that because I’m fed and clothed, that’s all I need.” 

“I get it,” the man sighed. “Really, I do. It sucks to have a parent that seems like they don’t care. But I’ve seen mothers smoke crack in front of their malnourished, filthy babies. I arrested a pimp beating up a prostitute in front of her toddler. Your father might not be the best, but he’s far from the worst. And that is not something we can really help with.” 

Plagg took this into consideration and nodded. Police couldn’t really arrest someone for being a sourpuss, right? 

“However, when he comes to pick you up in the morning, we can recommend him to get you both in family therapy. That might be the avenue to take.” He smirked. “So if it wasn’t drugs, what did you do to make your father so upset?” 

“My father is Gabriel Agreste, fashion police. And I wore this out,” he gestured to the kilt he still wore. “Among other hideous outfits, just to get his attention.” 

The man looked extremely disturbed by this. “You’re serious? That’s it?” 

“I mean, I also ran away from home...” 

“Ah, now that is a little bit more of a problem. You’re what, 14?” 

“15.” 

“A minor. Your father does have guardianship over you. This would be grounds for us to bring you home...but I wouldn’t have brought you here.” 

“So you’ll let me go?” 

“I could, but then you could be lying about all this.” 

“What do I have to do to prove I’m not lying? Blood test?” 

“Now hold on, kid. As long as you behave tonight, we’ll put in a good word for you tomorrow. And like I said, we’ll talk to your father about family counseling...and we’ll have a word with him about misusing resources.” 

This was not good enough to Plagg. Because Gabriel was still winning. Slap on the wrist or not, having Adrien spend the night in jail would be seen as a victory in Gabriel’s eyes. Adrien was under control again. 

And that would just not do. 

“You have my word, Daryl, I’ll behave.” He smiled. 

“Glad to hear it. You can hold onto the harmonica, just keep it down.” Daryl scooted the stool back to where he had grabbed it, and walked back from where he came. 

Once the coast was clear, Plagg let Adrien out of his jacket. 

“Okay, phase into the lock and get me out.” 

“What!” Adrien shrieked. “No no no! I’m not busting your butt out of jail! That’s illegal!” 

“So are most of the things I do, but that doesn’t stop me.” 

“You said that there wasn’t a lock in this world that could hold you. I will not be your keyblade.” 

“What?” 

“It’s a video game reference.” 

“Nerd.” Plagg nabbed him out of the air and pulled on his tail. 

“Ow! Hey!” 

“Sit still!” He yanked and twisted and scrunched his tail until it was a crooked pin shape, then he stuck it in the lock, fiddled with it, before the door slid open. 

“Geez, next time I’ll just phase through the lock.” 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Plagg tucked Adrien back into his jacket and closed the cell door behind him. 

“So how are we going to get out? You can’t just walk out the front door.” 

Plagg narrowed his eyes. “Or can I?” 

“It won’t work.” 

“Try me, bitch.” And Plagg walked with deliberate steps towards the front doors, where they had been escorted in. 

Daryl, of course, spotted him. “Ah! Agreste! I don’t know how the hell you got out—“ 

Plagg raised a hand, two fingers together with the thumb out to the side. Then he stated sharply. “Eck thoos yul hikteem!” 

Daryl stopped, blinked once, twice, then said, “oh, Adrien, you’re right. Your father really did do us both a disservice. Come on, I’ll escort you up front. Do you need a ride back to your friend’s house?” 

Adrien’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t supposed to be that easy! 

“No thanks, officer. I think I’ll walk.” 

“Okay kiddo. Let us know if your old man gives you any more problems, okay?” 

“Haha, will do!” 

Once outside, with the doors firmly closed behind them, Adrien emerged. “What was that?” 

“What was what?” 

“That—that spell! Have you always been able to do that?! Do you use it on me?!” 

“Simmer down, buddy.” Plagg patted him on the head. “It was just a...very specific destruction spell.” 

“What did you do?” 

“It’s temporary, really. Nothing to worry about. Back in the old days, people might realize I used the spell on them, but with him...he might just have some doubts about his decision to let me out.” 

“Okay, but what did you do?!” 

“Just a little spell that changed his resolve. Earlier, I convinced him to let me go, but that little barrier of…justice, or honor, or whatever kept him from following through. So I just…removed it.”

“You just…removed it?”

“Yep!”

“How often do you use that?”

“Never, if I can help it. Notice I usually just annoy people to get my way. And using spells with the three conditions is completely counterproductive, by the way. Magic is a tool, not a shortcut. 

“So you can’t use that spell to get my dad to drop whatever wall he has between us?”

“No, because it’s effects are temporary, and we have to convince him to ease up on his own. You see?”

“I think so…so what now?”

Plagg smiled.

—

11:30 pm. The evening bowel movement. Ever since he turned thirty, Gabriel was able to predict and prepare for the movement. But he liked it that way. Everything should be planned out and under control. Something so animalistic as defecating would not interrupt his day. 

Now finished with his business, he came back down and headed to his Atelier, to prepare notes for the company tomorrow morning. 

He walked in, and noticed the lights were off. Odd. Had he shut them off by accident when he left for the bathroom? Had Nathalie shut them off?

He flicked the light on, and the big plush red desk chair behind his desk swung around slowly.

“Well, well, well…If it isn’t the parent of the year.”

Gabriel just gaped in shock. “You-you…how did you get here?! I just talked to—an hour ago! The police! You were in jail!”

“My my, Gabriel. I have never seen you so flustered before.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Are you ready to call it quits yet? Or are you going to call the police on me again? What little lie will you tell this time? That I was trespassing? After I ran away from home?”

“Now Adrien, this was for your own good!”

“I think we both know this has far passed my own well being, old man.”

Gabriel just continued to stare at him, and Plagg wondered when the anger would burst out. Gabriel was never a level-headed man. So to see him so shocked, almost afraid, was concerning.  

Actually no, it was delightful. 

“You’re obsessed with control. To the point where I look like a cardboard cutout to you, instead of your son. Your son who is a human, with wants and needs and the capacity to make mistakes. But I can love. God, I can love, Gabriel. I want to love you. And my mind tells me I have to, because you’re my father. But your actions, your coldness, your control? That tells me that my love is being wasted. I might as well love my rock wall. It gives me the same amount of affection that you do.” 

Gabriel looked away, brow furrowed in thought. He still didn’t look angry, just confused and unsettled. “I really can’t...” he muttered to himself. 

“I’m sorry, what was that? You really can’t what? Control me? Is that what you were going to say?” 

“In a way...” Gabriel breathed. “Or ‘get you under control’, more specifically. But that’s the same thing, right? I want you to behave...but my way. And...you don’t want to.” 

“And that bugs you. Because all your employees do as you ask. But I’m not an employee. I think you forgot that.” 

“You escaped jail.” 

“I thought we were past that.” 

“Yes. Sorry, you’re right. I’m just...how? I talked to them, they said they were going to hold you until morning.” 

“I told you. There’s not a lock on earth that can hold me.” 

Gabriel collapsed into a chair, pushing his fingers through his hair and mussing it up. “Alright. I’m cornered. What do you want?” 

“A dad.” 

Gabriel frowned. Like the phrase was utter nonsense to him. 

Plagg stood and came closer, and when he spoke, his tone was much softer than it had been. “What’s going on? Why do you always push me away?” 

Gabriel tapped his thumbs together, clearly thinking. 

“I mean,” Plagg continued. “I’m no psychiatrist. If you’d rather us get therapy together, I would be down for that.” 

“Do you trust me?” Gabriel asked instead. 

“I’d like to,” Plagg shrugged. “But you haven’t trusted me enough to trust you back.” 

Gabriel stood. “Then I think it’s about time I let you in on what’s really been happening. It’s...it’s complicated. And I don’t expect you to understand right away. I should have told you sooner, but...I didn’t know how.” He walked over to the painting of Emilie in the style of Klimt. Then he beckoned Plagg closer. 

Plagg stood at his side, and looked at the painting with Gabriel. 

He expected some long winded monologue about love, and soulmates and how much losing a partner can hurt. He expected excuses and blame and guilt. 

He didn’t expect for the floor to move. 

Down. 

Down. 

Down. 

Adrien dared to peek out of the jacket, just to take a glance. 

They reached the bottom. A garden at the end of a bridge. 

Plagg was on edge, but didn’t speak. He just followed Gabriel down the bridge. Up to a tube. 

No, a casket. 

With Adrien’s mother inside. 

Wow. 

So...this was a lot more than he was prepared for. And Gabriel certainly was not a normal, predictable human. 

Gabriel 1. Plagg 0. 

Actually, right now it was more like Gabriel 1, Plagg 89. But who was counting? 

“I...that’s...” the shock was genuine. Adrien never knew what happened to his mom. And the whole time, she was in the basement? 

“She’s in a coma, and can’t wake up. It’s an effect of using the broken peacock miraculous.” 

Oh shit. Oh shit shit shit. This was bad. Really really terribly awfully bad. Edge of a knife, balancing on a thread kind of bad. 

“It is my hope that by obtaining the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous, I can join them and wish for her to be healed and wake up.” 

Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it, Gabe! 

“I’ve been trying to do so with the use of the Butterfly Miraculous, as Hawkmoth.” 

Goddamn son of bitch! 

It occurred to Plagg that Adrien would probably not be taking this news quite as calmly as he was. Adrien would be screaming and crying, and begging his father not to do this. But Plagg just stood there, staring at Mrs. Agreste. It was shocking, and heartbreaking, but for Plagg, it was more frustrating and annoying. 

How was he supposed to repair this relationship now? Gabriel certainly didn’t seem remorseful. 

“And now that I’ve told you this…I’d like you to join me. I need your help, Adrien, to bring back your mother.”

And that was the final nail in the coffin. 

“Won’t you say something, son?”

What was there to say? ‘No’? ’Screw you old man’? No…he had to find some way to repair this. 

“How did you find out about the wish?” Plagg asked.

Gabriel opened his lapel, and his kwami emerged. “This is Nooroo, he allows me to transform into Hawkmoth.” 

Plagg turned his slitted eyes onto his estranged brother, only to receive a wide-eyed gasp. Nooroo knew, but continued to stay silent and wait. 

“He told me about the wish. He said it was the only way to save her.”

“The only way he knew of.” Plagg corrected.

Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him. “What—?”

Plagg sighed. “The ultimate wish would, potentially, work, however, balance must always be maintained. If you want to wake her up, someone else would have to take her place. Someone you love. Someone like Adrien.” 

Gabriel took a step back. “Who are you?”

“Ah, finally figured it out, hmm Gabe?”

Gabriel went pale. “Jesus Christ…I asked who you are! Where’s my son?!”

“He’s near. And he’s safe. It took you two weeks to notice that I wasn’t Adrien. Nino and Marinette figured it out way sooner. This possibly could have gone on forever if I hadn’t given myself away.” 

“WHO ARE YOU?!” Gabriel shouted, actually scared. 

Plagg smirked. “Name’s Plagg. The Black Cat Kwami. At your service.” 

“You…how? Why?” 

“The more important question is, do you want to save your family?” 

Gabriel gaped at him, so many questions going through his mind. 

“Keep in mind, the ultimate wish is half of my power. I know how it works. And I think I have an idea to save Emilie without sacrificing Adrien.” 

“Let me see him,” Gabriel begged, his voice full of gravel. “Let me see my son!”

Plagg took Adrien out of his jacket and held him up in his hand. 

Poor Adrien was bawling. He covered his face with his paws to keep from making noise. 

“Adrien…”

“How could you…you know I missed her so much…She was right here the whole time?” He sobbed. “And…and Hawkmoth…you’ve hurt everyone I’ve ever cared about.”

“Now son…”

“No! Shut up!” He wailed. “I agreed to this stupid body swap with Plagg because he promised that he’d get you to love me again…but I don’t know if I could love you. You’re a monster.” 

Gabriel stared, mouth open, fighting for words, willing to protest, but he had nothing. 

Plagg drew Adrien up to his face, holding him close to his cheek. “I’ve got you, buddy. It’s alright.” 

The Butterfly Miraculous burned on his chest, boiling with the despair from his son. Normally, Gabriel would want to capitalize on it…but now, he just wanted to make it go away. 

“What do I need to do to fix this?” He asked. 

“Well, for starters, hand over your Miraculous. And the Peacock, while you’re at it.” 

Adrien watched in amazement as Gabriel willingly handed over both brooches.  

“Okay,” Plagg stated with an exhale, he deposited Adrien’s tiny form into Gabriel’s hand. “Here, talk with your son. Listen to what he has to say. I’m going to take these somewhere safe. And talk to my sources about helping Emilie.” 

Gabriel clenched his eyes shut, like he was trying not to cry. “Had I known saving her would have been this easy, I would have asked for help. I don’t know how but...I would have.”

Adrien didn’t hold back the snark from his voice as he said, “Anything would have been better than terrorizing the entirety of Paris. What will mom think?”

This made Gabriel moan in pain. He hadn’t even considered it.

“How do I get out of here?” Plagg interrupted. 

“Oh uh…the elevator. There’s a button with an up arrow.” 

“Okay, I’ll be back Adrien.” Plagg took quick steps from the room. 

He knew they had to talk. Nothing would be fixed without them having honest communication, but it felt wrong to leave Adrien behind like that. 

Worst case scenario, Adrien could always cataclysm his father. It might permanently get them stuck until Adrien’s body perishes, but…

He left the mansion, making a beeline for Marinette’s house. The bakery was closed, and the lights were off, but Marinette’s lights were still on. 

Thankfully, he had his phone. 

“Hello?” Marinette’s cheerful chirp came from the other side. 

“Hey Marinette, I’m outside.” 

“What? Where?” 

“Not on the balcony, at the front door. I have a present for you.” 

The phone hung up, and he saw a light turn on in the stairwell. Then Marinette stumbled down the stairs and opened the door. “Do you have any idea what time it is? Why didn’t you transform?” 

“Couldn’t. Here,” and he took her hand and slapped the brooches in it.

“I...are these...? Is this a joke?” 

“Nope. Gabriel Agreste is Hawkmoth and he handed these over to me himself.” 

“Gabriel is...?” She clutched her heart. “Adrien...where’s Adrien?” 

“Currently having a heart to heart with his dad.” 

“Yeah, but...isn’t one of the conditions to repair their relationship?” 

“Yep.” 

Tears welled up in her eyes. “And he was really Hawkmoth?” 

“He was trying to get the miraculous to bring his wife back. She’s in a coma in their basement.” 

“Oh my god...” 

“You said it, sister.” 

“Is he okay? Should I go over there?” 

“He’s upset. Obviously. I was hoping Ladybug and the horse miraculous would make an appearance over there. We can take Emilie to the Guardian temple in Tibet. They certainly have a way to wake her up.” 

“Are you sure? Or are you just hoping?” 

“I’m sure. Not the first time a miraculous has broken and hurt someone.” 

“Should I bring the peacock too, then?” 

“Maybe keep it in your compact, just in case.” 

Just then, a chirp came from the ring. 

“Uh, well I’ll be a monkey’s uncle.” 

“What?” 

“A condition was just met.” 

Marinette grabbed his hand and stared at the ring. “What?! How?!” 

He shrugged. 

“Lila must have died.” 

Plagg laughed. “You think that’s more likely?” 

“I’ve seen how stubborn Mr. Agreste can be. There’s no way they’ve reconciled. What was the wording of the condition, exactly?” 

Plagg smirked. “Conveniently, we didn’t have specific wording. The three conditions are ‘return unrequited crush from Ladybug—“

“Which was already requited, so it shouldn’t have even counted.” 

“‘Get rid of Lila permanently,’ and ‘fix the relationship with father’. If you have a leaky pipe, you can replace the whole thing, or you could just throw some duct tape on it. Both would be considered fixes. Maybe they found their duct tape for now.” 

“Perhaps. But I’m not going to stop worrying until I see him myself. Let me pop these in the Miracle Box, and I’ll meet you down in a minute.”

—

Ladybug returned to the mansion with Plagg. He escorted her in, passed the office, down the hidden elevator, and into the garden where he had left Gabriel and Adrien. 

When the door opened, there was laughter. Not manically laughter, like one might think of in a villain's lair, but laughter like someone told a really good joke.

“And then I said, ‘Napoleon may not have designed his coat, but he had a hand in it!’” More laughter. 

Puns. 

They were bonding over effing puns. 

“Adrien?” Ladybug called out carefully, in case he had lost his mind. 

“My lady!” He chirped, and zipped over to her, nuzzling her cheek. 

Ladybug squeezed him carefully in her hands and kissed his little head. “Are you okay? Plagg told me what happened. I’m so sorry, Sunshine.” 

He gave her a little smile, a purr rumbling in his chest. “I’m okay, my lady. Or I will be. My dad apologized, and we talked and...well, put a bandaid on a bullet wound. But it’s a start.” 

“Ladybug?” Gabriel asked softly. “Would you...help my wife?” 

She stepped closer to the coffin, finally seeing Emilie in her coma. She looked like a living doll. Was she even breathing? 

“Plagg says the Guardians in Tibet can help. But I would like my Kwami to take a look first, just to make sure. Are you going to behave?” 

“All I want is my wife back. If your miraculous is the bad way to do it, then I don’t want it. I almost lost Adrien. I don’t want that to happen.” 

It was a good answer. “Spots off.” 

Gabriel gasped when he saw her, and then chuckled. “Of course it would be you, Miss Dupain-Cheng.” 

“What’s so funny?” 

“You know, I tried to akumatize you several times.” 

“Yeah, I remember.” She glared  at him. 

“I thought you would be a perfect akuma. You’re incredibly creative, resourceful, strong-willed, and have a strong sense of justice. I knew that if I could get you, I’d definitely win.” 

She shrugged. “I guess I will take that as a compliment...” 

Tikki flitted over to the casket, followed by Plagg. They observed, and conversed. 

“Do you think it will work?” Asked Adrien. 

“Plagg certainly seemed to think so.” She scratched the back of his head. “You know, your ring went off while Plagg was briefing me. Seems you met another condition.” 

Adrien looked at her with wide eyes. “You serious?” 

“Seems like your bandaid did just enough. Or Lila died.” 

“Lila? Lila Rossi? What does she have to do with this?” Asked Gabriel. 

So they told him the whole story. About how Adrien had lamented to Plagg about his problems, and how Plagg had tricked him. They laid out the conditions and explained that only one remained. 

Getting Lila to leave him alone. 

“Well, for one thing, I can fire her.” Gabriel said simply. “I have no need for a compulsive liar in my employment.” 

Adrien hugged his father’s neck. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!”

“Of course, I could also set up a restraining order, if you’d like.” 

“That would make things...maybe even more difficult. She would take it as a challenge.” 

“I thought as much. Well, if Emilie is truly going to Tibet, I will go with. And while we’re gone, we’ll think of ways to help with Lila. If you haven’t solved it already. I should probably leave an email for Nathalie so she knows what’s happened.”

“Did she know?�� 

“Mayura.” 

“Ah, right.” 

“Oh crap!” Adrien suddenly exclaimed. 

“What?” 

“Nino still thinks I’m in jail!”