#tagging all characters who got their hand cut off and the hand cutters

[gamelpar]

that's a nice hand you got there...........would be a real shame...if someone were to......cut it off..

[sophie-i-guess13]

Hound Dog

|Words: 1872|

|Characters: Sylvia, Tim Shepard, Dallas Winston|

|Genre: Teenage Dumbasses, Fluff near the end|

|TW: Mention of a gun, animal neglect, implied underage drinking|

Tag! @mjmacchio1991 @apricot-colored-feathers @pepsi-and-cigarettes @the-kneesbees @ralphmaccchiato 

I had a few ideas of what Sylvia wanted from me when she came through the door of her cousin’s bar. Like a drink or two, maybe a dance. Maybe she wanted to spend the night. But, in her typical fashion, she just had to prove me wrong. That’s the only reason I’d be sitting in the passenger seat of Tim Shepard’s t-bird and squinting through the rain-splattered windshield.

We move along down the road, the only sound being that of the rain beating against the car and Elvis’s voice coming from the radio. Tim’s headlights reflect off the streetlamps we pass, even the occasional broken bottle tossed in the middle of the road. Each time the light shot back at us, it got caught in his eyes and hair, the vibrant contrast of black wild curls and clear blue eyes, all tied together with a jagged pink scar running from temple to chin. “Likin’ the new tires?” he asks, lips still twisted into a scowl so it would look like an insult to anyone else.

It still hurts to breathe too deep, but that’s the least of my worries. That wasn’t the first time Tim had taken a cheap shot at my ribs, but I knew it wouldn’t be the last, either. “You should be thankin’ me, Shepard,” I say casually, “told ya’ you were due for an upgrade.”

“Just admit you slashed my tires ‘cause you were jealous,” he mutters without even a hint of sincerity. It took me a while to figure out when he was bluffing- the last time I fucked up we both ended up in the Curtises kitchen and bandaging our wounds. My eyes dart up to his rearview mirror before I respond. For a girl who always seemed so cold and cool, Syl’s pressed against his window like a little kid at a toy store. “An’ what do I have to be jealous for, your fat head?”

“How ‘bout the fact that I have a car, and you’re a fuckin’ freeloader-”

“Pull over!” Sylvia cries out suddenly, already pulling at the handle of her door, “That’s the house!”

The street is still dark but through the occasional crack of lightning, I can make sense of where we are. “Your house is three up, doll,” I mumble. It must have been soft enough for her to have not heard me because she pushes the door open and trudges through the rain. “She ain’t headed home,” Tim tells me as he turns the key and lets the engine die. “Sylvia’s been obsessed with the dog in that yard ever since I met her.”

She’s teetering back and forth in her high-heels as she leans over the metal fence, running her hands over the slim, grey body beneath her. I can’t make out her words- since they’re all slurred together with cold and liquor, but they don’t hold the same edge I’m always used to hearing from her. “So you drove her to visit a mutt?”

There’s a second icy gust of wind when Tim forces his door open and pops the collar of his leather jacket. “Get your head outta your ass, Winston,” he groans, just loud enough to be heard over the clap of thunder, “we’re helping her take him!” Before I can get any more clarification, Syl’s voice cuts through the rain once more. “Hurry up,” she calls, “the thunder’s freaking him out! You’ve got the thing?”

I don’t know what thing she’s talking about. I don’t know why I’m spending my night out in the rain while Sylvia crouches in the mud, trying to soothe some mangy old dog that’s probably older than we are, but here I am. The rain beats down on us, even going as far as to wind down my back and under my t-shirt like a serpent. “You got a plan or anything?” I shout to Tim when he slams the trunk closed and heads towards the rickety old house, bolt cutters hanging in one hand. “Not really. Just cut the chain and get ‘im to Buck’s, I guess.”

In all honesty, stealing a dog doesn’t sound like the worst way I could spend my time. But, there is no way in hell that thing is coming anywhere near my bedroom. The street stays dark for the most part, except for the occasional shot of lightning through the clouds like the cracks through Buck’s drywall. The thunder’s got the dog on edge as he paces back and forth against the fence, sometimes even raking his paws against it. He doesn’t bark though, which means his owners inside have no reason to look outside when Tim and Sylvia hop over the chain link.

Blue jeans turn muddy and hair is plastered flat against their foreheads. Watching Sylvia drop to the ground and not caring for the grime caked under her nails as she pulls at the thick leather collar pushed against his throat. “You’ve gotta hold ‘im still,” Tim orders rough grit teeth and a white-knuckle grip on his bold cutters, “I can’t cut the chain if he keeps moving!”

Years ago, he might have been a good looking dog. Now, with ribs sticking out far enough to count, white and cloudy eyes, and a torn ear, he was everything but pretty. His thin fur was grey and matted, yet somehow still thin enough to see the bald patches on his chest and stomach. If it were any lighter, we probably could’ve seen the ticks and fleas crawling all over him, too. “I’m trying,” Syl huffs in response, “it ain’t my fault the thunder’s freaking him out! Dal, get down here an’ hold him!”

He whimpers and cries, straining against Sylvia’s arms as she tries to hold him still and Tim grabs hold of the rusted chain in one hand. “Syl didn’t invite you to just stand there,” Tim spits, rainwater and a few choice words falling from his lips when the chain slips from his hands and the dog jerks back further into Sylvia’s arms. In all honesty, she didn’t invite me at all. She walked into the bar, dark lips twisted into a smile and flipped some bleached hair over her shoulder.

That’s all it took before I was following her out into the night and the passenger side of Tim’s t-bird like a- well, like a dog.

“Shut up an’ give the chain.” I grumble, narrowly avoiding the dog’s tail when he whimpers again. The metal is cold and slick with rain, but still rough with years worth of rust. It pushes into my palms, nearly deep enough to slice the skin while Tim runs his fingers back and forth searching for the weakest link. “I keep tellin’ you, Syl, you need to find a guy who’s willin’ to steal a dog. Not the kinda guy you’ve got to lie to-”

“Just cut the chain, Tim-”

The metal goes slack before my hands drop to my sides. “Makin’ a move on my girl, Shepard?” I’ve always had a temper. It’s gotten me in trouble before, and that’s all it was getting us in now. Too many things happen at once. Thunder rolls overhead, Sylvia groans, and Tim laughs. Lightening cuts across the sky, like a knife slashing through fabric. “Shut up, Dal,” Tim snarls, “I wouldn’t get with Syl if she was the last chick this side of the equator.”

I see her lips move, even see the initial shock cross her dark eyes, but no sound comes out. All I hear is the incessant ringing in my ears and the smell of gun powder. I can see it now, the steel chain resting at my feet, cut short to a jagged end, illuminated by the hazy yellow glow of a porch light. Tim already has a hand on Sylvia’s arm, hauling her to her feet and dragging her in the direction of the road.

I follow in a blind panic, adrenaline burning under my skin just as it had all those nights before I showed up in Tulsa. At least back in New York people wouldn’t justify your murder saying you were on their property. I can hear the man of the house hollering after us, he’s got a deep voice, but the words all slur together. Exactly how you’d expect some asshole who leaves his dog out in the rain to sound.

That fucking dog.

I never should have looked back, but I did, anyway. I was supposed to gauge how far away he was, maybe if he planned on re-loading and taking another shot at the three kids running out of his yard, but I see the dog instead. His belly is against the soaking grass, tail and ears gone limp. In an instant, I freeze. The man lumbers down his stairs, shotgun hanging over his thick shoulder.

He growls another insult my way, fist waving in the air as he talks. The dog tries to sink lower into the mud as if it would be able to swallow him whole. Behind me, an engine roars back to life and tires squeal on wet cement. I should’ve gotten in the car. We should’ve counted our losses and realized that we’re greasers, not heroes.

But that motherfucker never should’ve kicked his dog.

“Thanks for this,” Sylvia hums in the early hours of the morning with her head on my chest and my arm wrapped around her shoulder. It hurts to breathe and every inch of my body aches, but all of that seems worth it now. She’s still trembling, despite being wrapped under all the blankets I could find in my room and Buck’s sweatshirt from last year’s rodeo season. We’re all freezing, but that meant Buck was willing to share his moonshine. It burned on the way down, but at least I could feel my fingertips again as they traced her shoulder.

“God, can y’all knock this shit off? You’re making me sick.”

Tim’s standing at the foot of the bed, greasy black curls still pressed to his forehead and one bloody fist wrapped in an old t-shirt. “Nah, this is what you get for makin’ me run in the rain with a dog and batshit old man chasing me,” I spit back. Sylvia smiles against my chest before sitting up and pushing her hair back from her face. “And for implying you’d have a shot with me, you arrogant prick.”

He leaves not long after that, drenched in rainwater and defeat. No sooner had Tim Shepard closed the door and wandered back down the hall, had the dog- Bruce, wiggled out from under my bed and stared at us.

“Hey, Dally-”

“He isn’t sleeping on my bed, babe.”

“C’mon, Dal, it’s just for one night, babe.”

I’m a greaser. The kind of guy known for getting into drunken fights in bars and empty parking lots. I steal, I lie, I cheat. I’m not a good person, nor have I ever claimed to be one. Hell, I fight guys twice my age and weigh more than two of me, and win.

But sometimes, when a hood is left to face his girlfriend and her dog, you just have to accept defeat and move over.

[jack-is-lost]

PATCHES & PINS (CH 1)

A/N: This story revolves around a transgender, female to male, original character. LGBTQ+ topics are a given within this story. Gender and body dysphoria will come up as well since he is not out to his family — only close friends. If you dislike such a story premise please understand you do not have to interact with it at all. Leaving hate comments will be removed. Of course, constructive feedback is always welcomed.  

Pairing: Eventually Marko x OTMC

Story is still in progress and updates will be slow

Eventually it will be posted on A03 once I’m a few chapters in

Currently on Chapter one | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 coming soon

Chapter one

My life, for the most part, has always been unusual — a little different. Despite having parents that looked like any successful mom and dad ought to, and an older brother willing to stick up for me, things just didn't go according to plan. 

You see, my mother was excited to have a daughter finally. Someone to doll up and buy dresses for, maybe even enroll in a dance class. A stark difference to her firstborn, Tyler, who was all about karate lessons and throwing the ball with dad. Which eventually evolved to working on cars as he grew older. Our mother wanted somebody to share girly interests with, understandably. And, for a while, she was able to have it. The baby pictures are proof of that. Yet, as I grew older and became more aware of what I liked, the fewer things seemed cookie-cutter-perfect for my family.

"Are you not taking your bag to school, Jacklynn?" The mentioned item was nowhere in sight as the youngest of her children poured coffee — the action resembling someone needing every drop left in the pot as if to survive.

"It's the last day," came the grumbling response after a long, soothing sip. "I doubt most kids will even be showing up."

"Yeah, about that," Tyler, the oldest, spoke around a bite of toast. "Can't I be a minority and just stay home?"

"No, you only have one day left, guys." She smiled at her two kids. A graduate who had already filled out college applications, and is ready to further his engineering career. The other, soon-to-be senior, that seemed to have no real drive in anything but drawing and reading — and staying up too late apparently.

"Seriously," she spoke up again as they sighed in unison, deflating with their last hope crushed. "You two will survive."

Tyler nudged his sister, who leaned across the counter, jostling the coffee dangerously enough to receive a seething glare. "Want me to take you?"

It wasn't like Tyler to offer that too often, "Sure."

They both pulled away from the kitchen and made their way to the door, hollering goodbyes as Tyler grabbed the keys — the other sibling still nursing the coffee.

"Don't stay out too late!" Their mom called back, knowing full well she wouldn't see her kids after school. It seemed the closer summer drew in — the fewer tests to study for and homework to do, the more they came home later.

Tyler stepped into the car, unlocking the passenger door as he slid inside his cherry baby — A beaming red, 1983 Audi Sport Quattro, followed by his sister plopping down less elegantly. He glanced at her while starting the car.

"Talk to me, Jay." It was the last day, after all. Weren't kids supposed to be excited about that? "What's bouncing 'round that head of yours." He barely received any notion his sister was listening till she drew out a long sigh, head hitting the back of the seat.

"I don't know, man." It was drawn out, tired. "Didn't get much sleep, I guess."

Tyler nodded while giving the steering wheel a turn, making his way down the road. The school building wasn't very far when on wheels, and he pulled into a parking lot marginally less filled than it ought to be.

As his sister made to get out, he placed a hand on her shoulder, their eyes meeting as she paused halfway out the door. "Ever need to get a chip off your shoulder come talk to me, okay?" Her eyes rolled to the side, and Tyler gave her a little reassuring squeeze, "I'm serious. What are big —"

"— bro's for? I know, I know."

Tyler chuckled as he released her shoulder, "Good. Now," he slammed the door shut and leaned over the roof, "Go sleep in class or something." That at least drew a chuckle out of his sister as she turned away from the car.

The last day of school went how one could expect it to go. Some teachers put on movies and had extra treats for their students. Others went over lessons in the last semester, hoping it would stick to impressionable minds before three months of freedom — minds that were only thinking about freedom and not math.

It was by mid-day when a note made its way into Jay's locker. In gruff, almost unreadable handwriting, it merely said, 'Meet us by the big tree'. Jay instantly knew who it was from and folded the paper up.

A long night was probably ahead.

When the final bell rang, Jay had to wipe the drool off an impromptu pillow-desk before heading out and down the hall. Many of the kids loudly boasted about their summer plans while cleaning out lockers, jostling each other, and hurrying outside. Jay maneuvered around the hoard and quickly escaped out a side entrance, locker already empty since lunch.

It didn't take long to walk a block to the park, down a jogging trail, before splitting off into a cluster of trees. There, in the center of it, laid a large trunk of a dead tree. Upon it splayed out a makeshift map, bags, and — unsurprisingly, two brothers.

"Finally," Grumbled Edgar while raising his head, a red marker still poised over the map. "Where's Sam?"

Jay stared, unaware that Sam was supposed to tag along for the stroll after school let out. "Was I meant to wait for him or?"

"Forget it," came the short grunt, and Edgar was back to the more important matter at hand as Alan turned around to face Jay.

"I'm sure he'll show up. He's got the same note as you," he started to unravel what appeared to be a chaotic ball of cord in his hands. "Oh, hey—" he stopped as a thought struck him, "—Still a no go on the knife?"

Oh, not this again.

Jay leaned against the bare trunk, arms crossed and brow lifted. "Alan, we've been through this. Keep me on the books, but hand me a knife, and someone will lose a finger."

Of course, no one knew if Jay meant their fingers or not, and that was on purpose.

"Maybe some training will help," Edgar spoke up again, pausing on circling locations. "You need to prepare yourself for—"

"— the unexpected. I get it, Ed." Jay cut him off while peering closer to get a look at the map.

"Edgar," he corrected with a tired mutter despite it being useless. They've known each other for an entire year now. One would think it wouldn't matter at this point.

Jay tapped a finger on the closest circled spot, the cemetery. "Thought you marked this off?"

"One can never be certain," He nodded to his own words of wisdom. "It is a common ground for the dead."

"I'd say," Jay suppressed a snort, "It is where the deceased go to be laid into the ground."

Rustling noises announced Sam’s arrival as he pushed through, almost smacking himself in the face with a thin branch. His strained voice drew attention to him. “Guys,” he dusted a leaf off his overly styled coat, “We really need to find a better spot to meet.”

Jay lazily offered a salute wave, “Hey to you too, Sammy.”

“I’m serious,” Sam huffed while taking up a spot near Alan, hands shoved into his pockets. “What about the shop? Y’know, with school now over and stuff?”

Edgar grunted in thought. “Yeah, that ought to be doable.”

“Your grandpa still against us being at the house?” Alan spoke up.

Sam gave a partial shrug. “Sort of,” he eyed the map, then glanced at Jay, who returned the unspoken question with a tired look. Sam returned to explaining when Edgar motioned for him to continue. “You guys can visit, as you have, but you can’t — you know —” he shuffled his hands for the right phrasing, “— bring hunting business there.”

Jay had never actually been to Sam’s place, but the stories shared made it sound like a lot of stuff went down there — destroying property kind of stuff. So Jay could understand what the man was trying to avoid. The Frog Brothers being walking time bombs of destruction, after all.

“The cemetery again?” Sam squawked at noticing it. “I am not doing that again.” The sound of Jay snickering redirected Sam’s defiant stare. “Make Jay do it this time.”

“Wait, wha—”

“—He doesn’t have the qualification for it, Sam.” Edgar cut in before an argument could occur. This only made Sam huff, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

“So? I didn’t either last year.”

Alan stopped weaving the cord at this point, placing it down on the dead trunk. “Jay needs the experience. It could be good for him.” He simply spoke, agreeing with Sam.

“Hey, Jay’s right here,” he had pointedly avoided parading around Santa Carla for a whole damn year. Sure, his knowledge of supernatural things is what drew the Frog Brothers to him in the first place — and the free charge of ordering books at their shop kept Jay in the circle, but he was a good year older than them and didn’t feel like playing make-believe.  

Sam smirked in the way that screamed challenging, “C’mon, Jay, or are you scared of the dark?”

Jay narrowed his eyes, “I know what you are doing.”

“Then prove me wrong,” Sam continued.

“No.”

Despite that, Jay found himself amongst the dead at one in the damn morning. It was eerie, the cemetery, sitting in absolute silence and blanketed by a coat of darkness. The only noise now filtering through was shoes scrapping against the ground and low grumbles around him, voices hushed as not to alert anybody — or anything. Even their flashlights were ordered to stay off unless it called for it, as directed by Edgar.

“Exactly what should we be expecting to find here?” Jay spoke up quietly while trailing behind the two brothers, hands stuffed into his jacket. It was chilly tonight.

“Any signs of the undead.” Edgar simply said without much explanation, to which Alan filled in.

“Disturbed graves, tombs broke, drag marks.” he ticked off like a list.

“Ah,” Jay deadpanned. “So zombies?” the brothers turned to him, the moonlight hitting their frames but leaving their faces shadowed. “What?”

“Could be vampires too.” Edgar simply grunted. “Fresh ones crawling out of their dirt bed.” Alan nodded along with his brother, and Jay sighed.

“Sure, yeah. That too,” It wasn’t like anything of the sort actually existed, but Jay would humor the guys. They put up with his oddities, after all, so he could continue to do the same for them.

“Didn’t any of your books mention that?” Edgar continued while turning around, walking along a worn-out path again, and avoiding stepping on actual graves.

“A little,” Jay admitted as they continued on their trek.

A majority of Jay’s supernatural books were all about how one became something, the signs, and lore behind creatures — not exactly if they crawl out of graves or not. It made sense, though, if considering how people feared vampires in the past. How they would stake and behead someone during burial just in case their loved one decided to raise again.

Same could be said about leaving a bell.

Alan suddenly crouched down near the edge of a grave. “Look,” his flashlight clicked on to bask the empty hole in light. Edgar followed promptly as Jay stared at the two figures eyeing an obvious dug hole for a burial happening soon.

“It might be a sign.” Edgar rubbed a finger over the crumbling edges, dirt smearing and falling back inside the pit.  

“Or,” Jay leaned over them to get an exact look at the perfect outline, “It is the groundskeeper getting ready for a funeral. There’s not even a casket down there.” Jay simply summarized before leaning back.

Alan clicked off the light and stood, “He’s right, Edgar. It is too perfect.”  

“Hey!” the voice resonated out, cutting the muffled talking off as a beam of light frantically flailed in their directions. “What are you kids doing?!”

Without a shared word between the three, just mere glances at one another, they quickly split. Or at least Jay tried to do just that, but the brush of Edgar flying past him in a rush entirely threw him off balance. It wasn’t until tailbone smashed into dirt that Jay even figured out what happened.

“Fuck…” he muttered, then covered his mouth as the light grew brighter over the grave from above, rushing footfalls growing closer before fading away in the direction the brothers ran. Once it was clear, the curse slipped again with more fever.  

Jay eased to his feet and stared above his head, the wall towering almost a foot over him. “They truly mean six-feet-under,” he muttered while raising a hand to the ledge, just able to cup fingers over the lip, only to stumble back as it gave away.

The recent rainfall was not making it easy.

Again Jay tried to grab, shoes scraping along the wall in an attempt to gain some height — thinking if he just rushed up the wall it would give him enough momentum, only to fall back against the adjacent wall.

“Shit — fuck,” Jay didn’t even care if his voice traveled that time. He was stuck in a damn grave, after all! Screw it!

“Need a lift?” came a voice from above, and Jay shot his gaze upward to see a hand reaching down toward him. The moonlight didn’t offer much else to see but light curls and the frame of a coat.

Even if it were the security guard, Jay knew this would be his best bet. It wasn’t like waiting till daylight to be discovered was an option. It would not help much in regards to needing to be home before Jay’s parents could find out he even snuck out.  

He reached for the hand, feeling leather against palm and uncovered fingers wrap around his wrist. It took only one good heave, shoes against the wall and other hand clinging to the edge, to be entirely pulled out. Despite mud caking Jay from front to back, he could even feel it in his shoes; it felt good to be back on the surface. It wasn’t like he had a fear of enclosed places, but it still sucked regardless.

“Thanks,” he looked over at the stranger, still only catching the slightest glimpse of a smirk within the darkness. It was hard to make out any features, and the way the guy stood didn’t help anything.

“Were you takin’ a dirt bath?” he joked inquisitively, and Jay chuckled under his breath.

“No, not exactly.” Who would want to do that in a cemetery anyway?  

The beam of a flashlight washed over them again as rustling sounds drew near, and Jay stepped away from the pre-dug grave. Definitely not wanting to repeat that incident all over.

“Looks like we should start running,” spoke up the other guy, head turned away from Jay to peer toward the security guard.

What was once hidden was now lit up like a spotlight. A smooth curved jawline, willowed eyes bright with brown, and curly dirty blond hair glowed on display for a split moment. Until the flashlight jostled by the running security guard fanned over the area. And Jay would be lying if he said he didn’t stare.

“Avoid any more holes, yeah?” he easily teased before seemingly stepping in a direction with no real speed.

Jay floundered for a moment before taking off after him. “Wait.” Jay didn’t know the grounds that well, and the two idiots that did had left him.

The guy laughed while reaching behind him, grabbing Jay’s wrist again with no problem, then started to run as the worn-out guard hollered something. He seemed to avoid any lifted tombstones, flower arrangements, and small fences like it were daytime. All while Jay tried his best not to stumble, gaze more on the ground than anywhere else.

When they neared the exit gate, chained to prevent people at such odd hours to visit, he let Jay’s arm go and placed both palms out while crouching down. Jay didn’t have to ask and quickly stepped into the waiting hands. He felt the guided push upward as his own hands grabbed for purchase, trying to avoid being nicked by the gothic-style fence. Yet, as Jay’s leg swung over, his pants snagged and ripped — the gravity of his body spilling over the other side holding little resistance.

Surprisingly Jay landed on his feet, if not a little wobbly, and quickly looked through the fence to see the guy still standing there undeterred. “You coming?”

“Don’t worry about me,” he simply said. Jay wanted to comment, but the sight of the guard pushing past the nearest tombstones shut him up. “Go.” he laughed again — actually laughed as if nonplussed by the whole thing. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep him distracted.” Then he turned around and fanned his arms out as if directing air traffic before darting down the side of the fence.

And that was the last Jay saw of the guy before quickly hiding behind the bushes lining outside of the cemetery, not wanting to be seen as the flashlight shown in his direction.

The walk home was slow as he picked flakes of mud off his jeans. Jay could feel the dry mess on his face and in his hair. A shower was needed as well as a talk with the Frog Brothers tomorrow. No way were they getting off free from abandoning him in the damn graveyard! Even as he climbed back through the bedroom window, Jay was envisioning how he’d throttle them. It wasn’t until he was in the shower, scrubbing extra hard to clean the grime off, that his thought wavered to the stranger.

“Why was he even there?”

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Really long ask - Part 1: Hi, sorry for this long rant, but I just wanted to vent since I saw this latest story posted on AO3 and I am restraining myself on commenting on their story so I'm just letting my anger out here about it and other issues regarding fan-depiction of Hawks. It's vaguely related to your post on how DabiHawks or Dabi+Hawks stories make it all about Dabi and always made Hawks out to be the one who starts the problems in their relationship or is the one trying to get Dabi's

Content warning: passing mention of r*pe in a fanfiction.

LOOOONG post under the cut.

(Cont.)

Dabi's attentions when it's canon that it's the complete opposite. This latest story that came up in my feed was about Hawks "harassing" Dabi (who apparently has a backstory of r*pe) and Twice helps Dabi works out his feelings. Among the hoards of tags condemning Hawks, they decided to use "Hawks is very uncool in this fic heads up" so that's another one to add to my filters. I think I also have to block the "Dabi Needs a Hug" tags too bc he's always woobified like heck. 

I really want to read stories where Hawks interacts with Twice since they have a bond/drama with each other, but people have been adding Dabi and either making it seem like Hawks has been gaslighting Dabi in their "relationship" or with Twice. I can acknowledge stories where Hawks feels guilty for what he had to do or Twice being anger/betrayed over Hawks' actions since that is actually what happened; but I will not stand for Dabi claiming Hawks took advantage of Twice or Twice and Dabi having feelings for each other with Hawks in the way bc Dabi is a) the one who let Hawks in b) knew Twice is gullible and c) used Twice as bait. Even in the stories that are cute/causal+funny, Hawks is always the one who gets threatened with fire, harsh insults, or guilted into compliance but the seriousness of the first 2 are always brushed off and the third kinda makes me want it that Hawks doesn't have friends bc most people write him as a bad friend who only cares about his own problems (especially the ones that write Hawks like a celebrity/night club person). 

On writing Dabi, his issues always take priority over everything else, his family loves him, and the lov is always chill with him. He's usually written as the fun asshole/caretaker (bc of his big brother status or ablity to cook). Those factors aren't bad by itself, but it's extremely irritating when the writers/artists can give that level of care to Dabi, but just reduce Hawks to a meme who is a workaholic for the government/scared of punishment & not bc he really cares about the people he saves/helps. It's not like I hate the DabiHawks pairing, but the majority of the content (esp the recent ones), are frustrating to read & Hawks' character is usually written in bad out of character extremes. I am really mystified that I'm praying for canon content rather than fanmade most of the time.

Phew! After the back and forth it looks like we got to the end of that! (Or did we?! *Dun dun DUUUUN*) If not, though, feel free to keep the asks rolling. Lol Foxy and I are usually pretty happy to receive as many asks as people want to send even if it takes us a while, individually, to get to it. Now to finally address what you sent.

I find myself in a weird place when it comes to OOC fanfic because on the one hand people can write whatever they want, and I don’t really have a place to criticize them; but also when they blatantly and willingly misinterpret a character so they have grounds to bash on them it also leaves me acutely uncomfortable. I don’t think I’d call it “problematic” as much as a squick? Like, if they’re willing to blow past all the obvious proof to the contrary about their claims of a fictional character just because they hate them, then are they willing to do the same thing to a real person? Usually, those kinds of thoughts are pointlessly extreme, but we know those who unironically and/or unapologeticly call fans of the heroes “bootlickers” so... It’s like, ooc vent fics are also fine; and if you want to rewrite a character to fit the narrative scheme you’ve set up that’s cool as long as its tagged (“ooc [character]” or something) and/or just mention in the a/n that they knowingly and willingly mischaracterized them for the sake of the fic. Just. Don’t. Claim. It’s. Canon.

And speaking of canon, as much as I’m sure Horikoshi knew Hawks and Dabi were going to end up shipped I think it’s obvious that he never was going to canonically write them ending up together, yet here comes the “canon must validate my headcanon” crowd calling him a bad writer because the author had some bigger narrative goal in mind than having two pretty anime boys kissing.

And the worst part to me is, I feel there’s a distinct slice of the DabiHawks crowd missing out on some of the possibilities of this ship by intentionally mischaracterizing them. Like, the aesthetic equal/opposite draw of the ship is phenomenal as it is and I don’t even ship them, but I can see a wide range of possible fics based solely on the principle that they are canonically incompatible!

At the end of the day, Dabi is a dime-a-dozen edgelord - that pain in the butt OC that so many newbie D&D players make that they think is so deep and dark and mature, but is about as cookie-cutter as they come. It’s not that this kind of character is unsalvageable or a hopeless Gary Stu character, just that they don’t often come across as compelling in and of themselves or that they need more than just selfish hatred to carry them through a series. Two kinds of edgelords that can be done well are the “Out of the Ashes” edgelord and “I’ll Pull You Into Hell With Me” edgelord. The first kind recognizes there’s more to life than their sad backstory and getting even and thus choose to aspire to more noble causes - think Joel from The Last of Us. The second recognizes they’re actively doing wrong and come to embrace it - being more concerned with getting what they want than taking the moral high ground - think Frank Castle, aka the Punisher - and even these darker, “unsaveable” kinds of edgelord antiheroes can have redeeming qualities such as meeting and helping a young hopeful and telling them, “I know I’m on the road to hell, so if you want to save yourself you’d better not follow me.”

Dabi actually has what he needs to become the second type right now (assuming he’s Touya) and could even evolve into the first not unlike Kratos from God of War, but that potential can’t be fully recognized until you admit that he’s fundamentally self-centered and a bad person as-is. He may have the tragic backstory complete with justifiable hate at his genuinely abusive father, but rather than using that as fuel to see that never happen to anyone else like it did him - he just wants to get even. He burns people alive, knowing well he’s participating in the same destruction that his father committed to make him what he is now. He doesn’t recognize any of the merits of hero society and is only concerned with burning it to ash. He could use what happened to his family to incite compassion in his heart and take others under his wing, but instead he uses people as a mean to his own ends. He isn’t even proper grimdark - he’s just your run of the mill egotistical megalomaniac with a punk aesthetic.

And that’s still a good character in the grand scheme of things, maybe just not alone! Moreso, it’s a good villain and EVEN BETTER when you put him next to Hawks who is at his core:

Fundamentally Hopepunk!

Hopepunk is about being good and kind as an act of rebellion against a cruel and unfair world no matter how bleak it gets or how badly you’re beaten down. Despite his own cruel past, Hawks still has a heart to help others for no other reason than to help them, he constantly changes the odds to save as many people as he can when he’d be given a pass for letting the cards fall where they will, and not only is his aim to “help others” but to make sure that there’ll never be need for heroes again. He’s an active rebel against the system fighting with kindness and goodness, fervently looking and listening for the next opportunity to do good.

In agreement with you, Hawks and Twice are interesting to explore because while Twice is an optimist looking to make the world a better place, he’s still a step or two removed from Hawks’ worldview because Twice refuses to let go of the “family” he found for himself while Hawks is willing to sacrifice himself for others. That dynamic is so interesting, and it’s what made them so initially compatible and subsequently heartbreaking in canon.

And it’s such a disappointment to see this unwaveringly earnest character reduced to “shitty fratboy” so often. For a lot of people newer to his character I can understand the confusion, but there really isn’t an excuse if you’ve been reading the series, and the possibilities for fics with this canon personality are just so much more interesting to explore, especially with Dabi as his sort-of opposite.

For DabiHawks to work well, you have to recognize that something has to give in either of them. Some of the juiciest, most angsty content is when you have two characters grow close together over commonalities only to be reminded that despite everything else they share, that One Thing will always keep them from truly being able to see eye-to-eye. Either Dabi has to grow past his hatred and relearn compassion and empathy, or Hawks has to lose grip of that hopeful vision he has and fall into despair. Both options are good to explore, but both require the acknowledgement that Dabi’s view of the world is fundamentally bleak and selfish, especially compared to Hawks’. For a supposed revolutionary out to change the world for the better whose a diamond in the rough with a heart of gold, that’s not exactly on-brand; and at the end of the day the issue is that some are unwilling to admit that what they wanted Dabi to be is likely not going to happen and they love that fake version Dabi more than they love what Hawks actually stands for which is why Hawks always gets the shaft in the end.

I still personally hold a bit of a grudge against the DaiHawks ship as a whole purely because, as you said, Dabi always seems to take priority over Hawks instead of letting the two build a dynamic together. Hawks is always the one who has to give, and the torture porn some have made him go through to “make the ship work” is downright disturbing to me. Even at its height DabiHawks content completely flooded the Hawks character tags on Tumblr with some of the same problems that have persisted to this day such as emphasizing their aesthetic as opposed to their dynamic and rampant mischaracterization.

Anyway, that’s my long-winded response. What do you think, @autumn-foxfire?

[starrynite7114]

things you never knew: two

A/N: And I’m back! So excited for things you never knew. The story is progressing well and I cannot wait to take you all on this journey with Ailee and Angel along with Olivia and EZ. This is going to be so fun and I hope you all will enjoy it. Hope you all will like the update! 

I also posted the characters of things you never knew, link is below!

Still working on Misconstrued and Body Art request, hoping to have it up in the next two days! 

Thank you all for the support for not only this story, but all of them. I really enjoy reading the comments and seeing the likes! <3

TYNK:  Characters one

Masterlist

tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic​ : @ifoundmyhappythought : @woahitslucyylu : @enamoured-x​ : @encounterthepast : @marvelmaree : @thickemadame : @carlaangel86 : @iambabyharry : @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @elcococruz : @chibsytelford : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @agirllovespasta : @jadert15 : @trulysuccubus : @whyisgmora : @briannab1234 : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @briana-mishell24

GIF: CREDIT TO ORIGINAL CREATOR

Ailee opened up the box of coffee beans that was sent from Columbia, her favorite type of roast. She could already smell the goodness and her mouth watered. It’s been two weeks since she was released from prison and she could see the MC staking out across the street at Carniceria Reyes. She honestly was a bit ticked at Olivia for picking the shop across from the carniceria, but Olivia stated it was the only thing available, which she was almost certain was a lie. Olivia has been trying to get her to speak to Angel, stating that he was miserable without her.

And she was miserable without him too, well was, but they all had to move on. 

She couldn’t risk Angel and the club. If they believed she was angry, they would stay away from her. But she knew Angel would be coming around soon. If there was one thing about the Reyes boys, they were stubborn. 

Ailee heard the footsteps behind her even though she could tell that the person was trying their best to remain quiet. She heard the door open, always hyper aware of her surroundings. Her eyes glanced at the reflection at the glass door and saw EZ making his way towards her with Olivia trying her best to not laugh behind him. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” EZ grabbed her from behind causing Ailee to squeal.

“I could have killed you.” Ailee informed him when he let go of her. 

“Why didn’t you?” He saw the box cutter in her hand and understood what she meant. 

Ailee nodded her head towards the door. “Reflection and I heard the door.”

“Jail made you hyper aware, I get it.”

But EZ didn’t get it. 

She wished he did.

“Sure,” she gave him a tight smile, nodding her head. Her eyes landed on the kute he was wearing, whistling. “Prospect. I’m sure you had other opportunities presented to you besides prospecting for the Mayans.”

“Killed a cop, Lee, there’s not much I can do.” EZ understood what Creeper meant now. Ailee did look like she just went through some hardship, but the scars on her hands, the hollow look in her eyes. The spark that he used to see in her eyes was no longer there. She was very guarded.

“You’re right. Well, if the MC doesn’t work out for you, you can work in the shop with me.” Ailee saw Olivia give her a look, shutting the idea down. She didn’t want EZ to be part of Maquina either, but it was a legit question regarding the shop, he didn’t need to become a part of Maquina.

“I’m surprised that you opened up shop again.” EZ helped unbox some of their items.

“It’s what I do best.” Ailee shrugged. 

“Your phone is ringing.” Olivia pointed out. Ailee has a bad habit of silencing her phone, not even turning on the vibrate option. She had an Apple Watch to alert her for calls and Olivia noticed it wasn’t around her wrist. “Are you avoiding someone?”

Ailee shook her head. “Don’t start, I took off my watch cause I didn’t want it to get scratched.” She walked over to her cell phone and saw a few missed calls from Alex and her Tio Jin. Then she saw a few messages from Alex as well. 

“Lovers quarrel?” Olivia teased.

“I said don’t start.” Ailee narrowed her eyes at her.

“You’re already seeing someone?” EZ was confused. Ailee just got out two weeks ago and he was almost certain that no one was allowed to visit her, per her request. “What did you do? Have a penpal?” 

Olivia gave her an apologetic look as Ailee quickly thought of a way to get herself out of explaining complicated matters to EZ. “No, it’s Alexander.”

EZ knew of Alexander. Her European best friend, the one Angel never met, but loathe. Angel was always selfish with his relationship with Ailee. If anyone threatened his position in her life, he didn’t like them and the one person who he felt constantly did was Alexander. Ailee and her family always went to Europe for the summer to visit her half-brother Theo and that’s where she mostly saw Alexander. She always had endless stories about Europe and in all those stories, Alexander was always present. EZ was also aware that Alex was in love with Ailee due to Olivia. She always spoke highly of Alexander and how Angel was lucky that he somehow sunk his claws into Ailee already and she didn’t even consider anything with Alexander. And it always seemed to EZ that Alexander respected Ailee’s stance regarding their relationship. 

“Alexander, did you let him visit you or did you close him off too?” EZ knew this was going to open a can of worms, but he wanted to help Angel fix things with Ailee. Maybe it would take the guilt weighing on his shoulders how he’s betraying Angel with his deal with the DEA.

“No, he visited me often, he didn’t let me take a fall.” Ailee smiled, but EZ could see it didn’t reach her eyes. It was a tight smile and she saw the wall going up. “If you excuse me, I have matters to attend to. It was nice seeing you Ezekiel, I wish you well with your prospecting.” Turning to Olivia, “I have business to handle in San Diego, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Olivia and Ezekiel watched as Ailee made her way out of the coffee shop. The two looked at one another, with Olivia letting out a sigh.

“I told you not to mention Angel.” Olivia sat on one of the chairs that was on the floor since the majority of the chairs were still on the tables. “You and your brother are just so hardheaded.”

“You’re lucky I’m the one who came. Angel has been itching to confront her.” Olivia had called EZ while he was at the clubhouse with Angel and Gilly. She was requesting some assistance at the shop and Angel and Gilly offered to go. EZ shut the idea down, but had to fight Angel of, he knew Angel could just stay away for long. “Fuck.” EZ watched as Angel’s bike pulled up across the street in front of his father’s carniceria. “I’m so glad Ailee left.”

“I concur, cause I do not want to be here for that fight.” Olivia grimaced. “So, have you spoken to Emily?” She didn’t mind Emily, always thought she was a nice girl, but things were different now. She was part of the cartel, regardless of what EZ wanted to believe. 

“No, I’ve seen her around town, but I haven’t spoken to her.” EZ wasn’t sure how he felt about Emily. The nostalgia was there, she was his first love, but after he pushed her away, how he treated her, he didn’t blame her for closing him off. 

Olivia nodded her head. “You’ll find someone EZ, I’ll set you up a Tinder profile.” That pained Olivia to say, she wished EZ would look her way, but she kept telling herself the ship had sailed and she really needed to put herself out there. Maybe she should make a tinder profile. 

“I’m good.” EZ chuckled, shaking his head. He groaned when he saw Angel knocked on the door, but he opened it anyway. “We talked about this.”

“Yeah, well remember, I don’t listen.” He looked around. “She isn’t here.”

“She just left to go to San Diego.” Olivia answered.

“Preciosa,” Angel smiled, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. “Looking beautiful as always.” He took her hand and spun her around.

EZ rolled his eyes and lightly pushed Angel away. “Alright, alright enough flirting for the day.”

Angel chuckled at his brother’s reaction. He knew how much EZ hated it when Angel flirted with Olivia, but if it was going to get his younger brother’s head out of his ass, he didn’t mind.

============

Ailee unlocked the patio door, slipping inside the apartment. The lights were off after she cut the electricity. In her ear, was her older brother, Vince, guiding her through the layout of the now darkened apartment.

“Stay there, his men are on their way up.” Vince warned her as Ailee twisted the silencer on the muzzle of the gun.

 “Got it,” Ailee whispered as she slipped on her goggles to enable her to see in the dark. “How far are they?” She was behind a couch, looking at the reflection on the glass.

“Count to ten.” 

Ailee began the countdown. She checked her magazine to make sure it was full. Once she was assured, she pushed it back in. She cocked the slide back as soon as she reached one. Looking at the reflection provided to her by the doors, she saw their flashlights and counted out five guys. She stood up and immediately eliminated the two guys on the left, causing the other three to scramble. Ailee hid behind the couch once more. 

She shot two bullets, so she had eleven shots left.

She heard the footsteps from beside her and immediately raised her gun, shooting the guy in between the eyes. Rolling towards the fallen body, the shot the other guy released missed her. Quickly, she stood up and shot that guy, leaving her with one more left. She looked up and didn’t find him, but knew he was most likely hiding somewhere.

“Are you okay? How many have you taken out?” She heard Vince questioned. 

“Four, I just need one more,” she replied. Looking around, she looked for any sign of the guy and saw the bar in front of her that had shelves of liquor and a mirror behind it. She shot the mirror, causing some of the glass shelves to break, and the pieces of glass to fall behind the bar. She heard the groan then and Ailee was about to finish him off when she heard the shot go off beside her and the indescribable pain radiating from her side. She fell on her side, the shot causing her to fall. Looking to her side, she saw her target, who looked absolutely shocked that he shot someone. She took advantage of his disbelief and shot him, before placing her hand on her wound. 

There was absolutely no hesitation and she was angry the target was even able to shoot her; she was better than that. She didn’t forget about the other guy and saw that he stood up and was about to shoot at her. She crawled behind the front of the bar and cussed under her breath as the shots passed her.

“Were you shot?” That wasn’t Vince’s voice. It was John’s.

Ailee chose not to reply and noticed that the bar was made out of wood, so it wouldn’t be hard for the bullet to penetrate it. Not wanting to stay any longer, she placed her gun against the bar and opened fire, moving her gun in a line, hoping that one bullet at least got the guy. There was no sound and she ran out of bullets. She unloaded her magazine and reloaded with another. With her hand pressed against her side, she stood up and cautiously made her way behind the bar. Luckily for her, three of the bullets got the guy and he was lying motionless behind the bar.

“Ailee,” she heard John hiss.

“I’m fine, going to the extraction point. Send the cleaners.”

Ailee grimaced as the pain worsened. She was going to get an earful from Vince and John. Getting shot was a sign of carelessness. She wasn’t being careless, the guy caught her off guard, big difference. But they would tell her to be observant. She wasn’t a child, but they had a horrible habit of still treating her like one. 

Taking off her goggles, she ripped off her sleeves to put pressure against her wound.

Gun shot wounds always sucked. The pain never lessened, it was always terrible.

============

“You got the job done, but you were careless.” John placed the folder down on the table as their medical staff tended to Ailee.

“I got it done and that’s what matters.” Ailee cringed at the feeling of the needle that was going through her body. Even though she was given anesthesia, she could still feel it. For someone as tough as her, she absolutely hated needles. When she would get an examination, she couldn’t look at them taking her blood, it was too much for her.  

“That’s not the point, what if he shot you in the head? There’s a reason why you’re taught to be cautious, to anticipate every move.” John scolded. “Recklessness causes gunshot wounds.”

 “John, I didn’t know he was going to come out. From his profile, that I studied extremely well I might add, it stated that he would be staying in his panic room in the event of an attack.” Ailee could be a bit stubborn, which was a characteristic John knew so well. His baby sister had always been stubborn, she always had something to fucking say. “And in his profile, it clearly stated that he had horrible aim and had no experience with guns.” 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Vince warned as he entered the medical ward in their building.

“Learned from the best,” she threw John a smirk, which he returned with one of his own. “Come on, I got the job done, it was a mistake, it’s not going to happen again.”

“It shouldn’t happen again, but this has happened before. You have to think of all the possibilities, you can’t just assume and pray it doesn’t happen.” John reminded her.

“Papa!” John’s son, Caleb, and his wife, Jamie, interrupted the three.

“Hey baby,” John picked him up, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

Once Jamie made it over to John, she gave him a kiss on the lips before turning to Ailee. “Ah, the devil does bleed.” Jamie and Ailee had a good relationship, but they couldn’t help pulling the other’s string every once in a while.

“Does that mean you bleed then?” Ailee slipped her shirt back on, thanking their doctor, Alexa Jordan.

“You’re not invincible, can you stop getting,” Alexa looked over at Caleb who was busy talking to his mother and father. “S-H-O-T.”

“You know he can spell right?” Ailee gave her an amused expression making Alexa roll her eyes.

“I swear you are literally the clone of John, but worst. Ah yes, the sprinkle of Vince.” Alexa shook her head. “Where’s DeAndre?”

“With your daughter.” Jamie replied, taking Caleb from John. “If you’re done tending to the spawn, you can meet them in your office.”

“Thanks again Lexa.”

“You know I got you,” Alexa smiled. “But next time this happens, I’m not using anesthesia when I give you your stitches.”

“Great motivation.” Ailee smiled.

Alexa walked out of the medical ward. Ailee looked at her brother, who had a folder in his hands. It was most likely her newest mission. Alexa and John were both retired from Maquina. They were once the top dogs and now, Ailee claimed that spot. It was hard to achieve, but she was able to do so in less than three years. Ruthlessness was a part of her game. Jin was incredibly proud of her, to climb the ladder that quickly, but he also knew it was due to her desire to prove a point. 

They wanted a monster, they got one. 

Maquina was a government agency that was based in the United States, but was now branching off to Europe, working with the government in order to stop certain people from coming to power. It was a government’s loophole to diplomatic measures. Maquina also enabled them to work without the need of getting approval from Congress. The President and a cabinet that the President hand selected made the decisions for Maquina, at least that was before the current President. They made changes and picked unbiased high ranking officials to man the Council. Usually, Jin, the head of Maquina, was the one to contact the government. Maquina has free reign and the government gives them the assignments. It was up to Maquina to do whatever they needed to do, but of course, there were protocols. They had to get approval from the counsel in order to do certain missions. There were times they could act independently, but usually that was only when they were hired by an independent contractor for a hit.

In other words, Maquina was basically a company for hired guns, but was protected by the government in which they operate.

“So, I think we’re going to have to take you out of the field for a while.” Vince informed her, making Ailee’s eyebrow’s furrow in annoyance.

“Why? This has been my first incident,” Ailee paused and gave her brother a sheepish smile after he shot her a look of irritation. “After some time.” She added.

“It’s not about that,” Vince shook his head. “Uncle Jin wants you to take on a security detail.”

“Security? Are you joking? You’re going to make me a babysitter?” Ailee groaned. “Listen, adults should not be taken care of as if their children. You want me to babysit cutie over there, fine, but adults, I don’t think so.”

“Ailee, this isn’t babysitting, you have to make sure these people are protected. You’re not going to be the only one there.”

“Who exactly am I protecting?”

“Los Olvidados and the Mayans.”

Ailee gave her brothers an incredulous look shaking her head. “Protect the Mayans? They kill people on a weekly basis, I think they can protect themselves.” Ailee did not want to be involved with the Mayans, it was the last thing she wanted to do. “When have biker gangs and small rebel groups been our concern?”

“Word on the streets is that Theo has set up shop in Mexico.” John handed her a folder. “It’s the reason why we have you back in Santo Padre.” He knew his sister was not exactly happy that she was back in Santo Padre, back to where her fondness memories were. 

“And if he hasn’t?” 

“Then another dead end.” 

For an organization that had a far reach as Maquina, it was pissing Ailee off that they couldn’t pinpoint Theo’s actions. It’s not like he was in hiding. Theo’s weapons company was in full force, selling low grade weapons to Eastern Europeans groups along with third world countries. He wasn’t exactly getting much business from first world countries due to his father’s tarnished reputation. 

“How long do I have to stay in Santo Padre?” Ailee didn’t want to stay long. The longer she was there, the more opportunities Angel would have to speak to her. If anything, she felt that she shouldn’t have to stay in Santo Padre. Once they got a hit, they could call her back and she would handle it then. Honestly, she was hoping it was nothing so she didn’t have to stay in Santo Padre. She kept her bargain of her deal with Theo, she stayed away from Santo Padre.

“Think of it as a break, you have to stay in Santo Padre, you just got out of fucking jail.” Vince reminded her.

“Language,” Ailee, John and Jamie scolded Vince.

“Jesus Christ, sorry.” Vince chuckled. “I didn’t think you would mind staying in Santo Padre.”

“You know, for people who worked hard to get me out of Santo Padre, I’m shocked you’re pushing me to go back.”

John and Vince looked at one another. They weren't proud of their actions. If it was up to them, Ailee would stay in Santo Padre and live whatever happily ever after she achieved with Angel. She would stay away from Maquina and she didn’t have to live through the childhood they had. 

In all intents and purposes, their parents weren't the worst, by certain standards. They provided for them, gave them things they wanted, celebrated their birthdays, so in some ways, they knew it could have been worse. But they were adopted, that much they knew. They never tried to search for their real parents, thinking they would fare much better there since they were given up. From what John and Vince understood, they all had the same parents who decided to give them up each and every time. They weren’t sure why they never asked questions, but they never did. If they didn’t want them, they didn’t care to know about them.

But their parents, Cecilia and William Rivera, were hardly the epitome of good parents. They were kind, but they pushed them to do things that no kid should have to do unless it was their own choice. For example, they all basically had a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, Jiu Jitsu, and Karate. They had them learn four languages by the time they were ten, the first four was English, Spanish, German and Japanese, from there they learned Mandarin, French, Portguese and Korean. They don’t remember even going to Disneyland with their parents, but they did go with their Uncle Jin, their father’s younger brother. Jin was the only one who truly showed them how it was to be a child, along with Felipe and Marisol. Whenever their parents were gone for months at a time, they alway stayed with the Reyes’. 

It was the reason Ailee was so close to Angel. 

Their bond started when they were young and it just never went away. 

Vince and John did their best to protect Ailee, but there was so much they could do. They remembered celebrating her birthday with a cake they got Angel to get for her. They would go to the treehouse they built and sing her happy birthday at midnight. It was a tradition they did till Ailee was sixteen years old. 

But things changed. They grew older and John was shipped off to Washington DC to begin training as a Maquina agent, then Vince was sent. Ailee was alone and they couldn’t protect her. They knew their parents would never hurt Ailee, but they still worried. 

“We didn’t want this for you either, but you know why we’re doing it. Our parents wanted us to become a part of the organization. It’s the least we can do after they took us in.” John knew it was a bullshit ass reason, but it’s kept him going all these years, he couldn’t let go of it now.

“They’re dead, John. We don’t owe them anything. They stripped us of our childhood to start the process early. Do you know how insane that is? Would you want that for Caleb?” Ailee argued.

“This isn’t the time or place.” John shot her down as he always did. It’s not that he couldn’t discuss it. He knew everything about this was wrong, but he has been loyal to Maquina for so long, he didn’t know what else to do. They weren’t the ideal agency, the world wasn’t black and white, but he was happy to do what he could to help save millions of people. At least, that’s what he always reasoned. 

“Of course not,” Ailee sighed, stepping down from the examination bed. “It says here that Los Olvidados might be Theo’s play. Why? They’re a group against the cartel, doesn’t Theo supply the cartel with weapons? And as far as I know, Theo went to university with Miguel Galindo.”

“What better way to sell weapons than support the cause of what the weapons would be needed for? Don’t overthink this, you know why Theo would want to support a rebel group. He’s done it to plenty of groups all over the world.” John explained.

“But why take out the cartel? I’m pretty sure he uses Los Olvidados to move something.” 

“From what we gathered from Joshua, it’s mostly messages to his allies in the States.”

“Emails don’t do the trick anymore?”

“They’re being monitored, you know this. We’re the ones monitoring his email.” 

Vince watched as his two siblings discussed the schematics of Theo’s moves. It was crazy to him how they ended up in two different spectrums. Well, not really. He never cared much for Theo. He was always an asshole and ridding of him wouldn’t do much for Vince. But what he could never forgive was what he did to Ailee. 

It was unforgivable. 

“If you’re not comfortable because it’s Theo, I can take over Lee.” Vince offered.

“No, it’s fine, I can handle Theo, I just don’t like staying in Santo Padre.”

“Why, cause of Angel?” John grinned. 

“And that’s my cue to leave, bye,” Ailee bent down and gave Caleb a kiss on the cheek. “Wo ai ni.” 

Caleb giggled. “I love you too,” 

“Please keep John busy, I would appreciate it if he wasn’t on my tail all the time.” She teased her sister in law.

“We had an agreement, we passed him back and forth cause god knows I can’t take him either.” Jamie reminded Ailee.

“Haha, you two are a hoot.”

The two women laughed. Ailee walked out of the medical bay, looking at her watch, it was midnight. She would get back to Santo Padre around two and she could finish unpacking. She was certain Olivia finished a majority of things earlier, but she just wanted to check in. 

She arrived at the coffee shop, unlocking the door and closing it behind her. Taking off her jacket, she winced due to the wound she recently sustained. Gunshot wounds were a bitch and you never got used to it. 

Ailee began to unbox the plates and mugs, placing them in the kitchen counter. She was unboxing the next box when she heard the door open. It was three in the fucking morning, no one should even be around unless they were looking for trouble. She cussed under her breath since her gun was behind the counter and she was by the window. Gripping the box cutter, she held onto it, waiting for that person to make their way down the small hallway. Quickly she turned and hurled the box cutter towards that person and she gasped when she saw who it was.

“The fuck, are you trying to kill me?” Angel stuck to the wall, looking at the box cutter that Ailee hurled at him.

“No, but this is why you shouldn’t sneak up on people.” Ailee felt those familiar butterflies and she was annoyed. Fuck Angel Reyes. “What do you want Angel?”

To hold her. To kiss her. To be able to be with her again, but that was asking for too much, for now. Besides, he was angry, angry that she closed him off. He understood why she did what she did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have the right to close him off. 

Ailee was annoyed that he was here. No one else was here but them two and no one roamed the streets of Santo Padre once it was dark. It was safer that way. 

“You.”

“What?” She turned then and gasped when she realized how close Angel was. This was the problem. He made her weak, inadequate. She was usually good at this, but all her senses were heightened when he was around and not in a good way. She didn’t know where to start and where to end. Her mind was clouded. It was obnoxious. 

“You closed me off. Every attempt I made you blocked off. I know you were angry, but what you did wasn’t right.” He spat out.

“You can’t come in here telling me what’s wrong and right when I took the fall for your stupid MC.”

Angel’s face softened then. “I, fuck querida, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even know you went to jail till I got back from Vegas. And when I did come to you, they said I couldn’t see you.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t see me? I wasn’t in isolation.” Ailee scoffed. She never blocked them off, well her first two weeks she didn’t. She was surprised when Felipe went to visit her, since no one visited her besides Theo and Jin. “Look, I don’t care, just please leave me alone. You did a great job for five years, let’s just keep it that way.” 

Turning away from him, she continued to unbox the mugs, when Angel turned her to face him.

“Tough shit Lee, we don’t always get what we fucking want. Now be a fucking adult and talk to me. You don’t get to be angry that I didn’t go to see you when you blocked every attempt I made.”

She narrowed her eyes at Angel, taking her arm back. “First of all, I didn’t block anyone from seeing me. Second of all, you have some nerve to come here and accuse me of shit you asshole.” She winced, the movement reminding her of her wound. 

Angel saw how she winced and he frowned. His eyes roamed around her, checking for any wounds, but there was none. 

“What’s hurting?” His voice was so soft that it brought Ailee back to those times that she would come home to him, battered from training or a mission. She didn’t like coming home to him in that state since it brought so many questions she couldn’t answer. It could have been full disclosure, but she didn’t want to further involve Angel in this mess.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” She moved away from him, taking the mugs over to the shelves behind the counter. Turning around to grab the rest, Angel was right behind her and placed the rest on the counter. It was awful to be in such close proximity to Angel. 

For years she yearned for his touch, his kisses, his hold and his smile. And with him right in front of her, all the feelings she buried along with the memories have resurfaced. 

“Where is it hurting?” He questioned her again, boxing her in against the counter.

“Angel, I’m fine, please.” She wanted to push him away, but his scent was intoxicating. 

Angel’s hand landed on her hip, his finger slipping under her shirt, he leaned towards her. She felt her breath hitch as Angel’s fingers creeped closer to her gunshot wound, causing her to suck her stomach in.

“There’s blood on your shirt.” Angel lifted up her shirt before she could even stop him. “The fuck? Is that a gunshot wound?” He assessed her wound and noticed a few scars on her stomach. He tried to touch her wound, but Ailee moved away, pushing him off of her. “Who shot you?”

“It’s not important.”

“The fuck it’s not.” Angel was hot on her heels. “Your uncle has always been suspicious, but this, this is ridiculous.”

“Look, don’t pretend like you care about me now.” 

Such the wrong thing to say, which she noticed when Angel’s eyes darkened.

“I’m the only fucking person who cares about you!” Angel was distracted by seeing her again, but now, the frustration set in. “Do you have any idea how difficult it was to not be able to see you? To know you were paying the price that I should be fucking paying? To top it off, you wouldn’t fucking see me. I love you, I’ve loved you since I knew what love fucking was. So don’t fucking tell me I don’t care about you.”

Angel and Ailee stood there, watching one another. Ailee never thought she would see Angel again and Angel was determined to see Ailee once she was released from prison. Angel’s eyes drifted over to Ailee’s lips, watch as her chest heaved up and down. Her dark brown hair was now a lighter shade of brown, tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were a shade darker due to her annoyance, something he always noticed. They were usually a hazel green hue, but whenever she was angry, or in the throes of passion, her eyes were hazel. Whenever she was happy, or sad, it was green. It was odd how he noticed that but he knew everything about her. He wanted to kiss her, to make everything go away. 

“Fuck it.” As he was about to pull her against him, a voice interrupted.

“Standing a little too close, aren’t ya?” 

They both turned towards the direction where the voice came from. Angel looked at the man before him, unsure of who he was. Ailee, gave him a small smile before walking over to him to get away from Angel. It didn’t help matters that when Ailee reached the guy, he kissed her quickly on the lips and wrapped his arms around her.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m Alexander Leon, Ailee’s boyfriend.”

Alexander Leon. 

The bane of his existence as a child. The other man in Ailee’s life. He’s seen pictures, but he’s never met Alex. Seeing him in the flesh, it made him real, it made him a threat, it made him, Angel paused.

“Did you fucking say boyfriend?” Angel turned to his stare to Ailee. “Isn’t this cheating? We never fucking broke up Lee.”

“Under the circumstances, I thought it was just assumed that we’re broken up.”

Angel snorted, shaking his head. “We’re not done.” His eyes moved to Alex. “I don’t care what you’re dildo says, we’re not fucking done.”

Ailee and Alexander watched as Angel made his way out of the coffee shop. Ailee wasn’t going to lie and say his words didn’t bring some heat in her. Hearing Angel say that, it was hot as fuck, but she had to remember that he was the thing of the past. 

“Did you have to say that?” Ailee pushed away from him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, you didn’t want your boyfriend to find out you have a fake boyfriend?” Alexander teased Ailee. “Thought he was a thing of the past.”

“What are you doing here?” She chose to ignore his comment, continuing her task that she was doing before Angel came. 

“You just got out of jail, I figured I should visit my girlfriend.” Alexander sauntered over to her, helping her with her task. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Just peachy.” Ailee looked around then. “Where’s Sierra?”

“Dropped her off at your house, she was exhausted.”

“Why, because you had her handle everything again?” Sierra Ayala was Alexander’s personal assistant that Ailee adored. She was never shy to be assertive with Alex which was something he needed. And she always enjoyed watching the two banter, they were like an old married couple. 

“I resent that, I take care of her.”

“Right,” Ailee rolled her eyes. “Please stop referring to yourself as my boyfriend. I don’t need Angel breathing down my neck.”

“You have a boyfriend, he’ll back off.” Alexander took another box and placed it on the table.

“Not sure if you were here when he told me he wouldn’t back off, but you don’t know Angel, you’re out of your mind.” 

Alexander scoffed. “I’m not at all worried about Angel. He didn’t make any attempts to help you, not a big loss in my opinion.”

“Cross, it’s not like he could have seen me anyway.”

“What about in the hospital when you were miscarrying?”

Ailee froze and Alexander knew the mistake he made. He cussed under his breath and walked over to her, but she held up her hand.

“Lee, baby I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, please don’t mention it again. I can’t tell Angel I miscarried while I was in custody. It would break him.”

Alexander nodded his head. “And he won’t, I would never tell him.”

She had to finish her scouting and once she was done, she would leave Santo Padre behind for good. Too much damage, too much time has passed for her to go back to where she once was. The MC stupidly left the drugs and weapons in her former shop, which placed her In this position. She wrote Angel, every fucking day for a year and not a fucking word.

They were done.

Once she took care of Theo, if he was even behind Los Olvidados, she was going back to Spain and away from Santo Padre.

[courageouslyfearless]

Dream World (Part 2) ☾ Baekhyun

Dream World (Part 2) ☾ Baekhyun

Genre: Fantasy AU

Pairing: Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Requested Tags: @itsbaekhyunsbutt​ @strawbaeri-s​ @bbyunz​

| Part 1 |

The Kingdom of Akron had changed drastically in a few months time. When news from the royal court spread through the lands asking the elves to come back home, most of them hesitated. It must be a trick, they thought, the queen must be up to something. Baekhyun knew better. The queen's sudden change of heart was Y/N's doing. She had written the happy ending she had promised. "Happy" was relative. He was content that he could ask his people to come back to Akron, begging them to trust this to be real and not some sort of plot. But deep down, Baekhyun was devastated, as this was only possible because of a woman he was never going to see again. He did his best to push these thoughts to the back of his mind so he could get through his days. But he couldn't chase away the memories that plagued his brain at night. He questioned his own sanity often; he missed her so. More often than not, he dreamed of her as well. It was his own personal prison, inside his head.

It was getting burdensome for him to pretend he wasn't completely and utterly heartbroken. His people looked up to him for guidance, he couldn't afford to show his weaknesses. But truthfully, he was finding it difficult to care as well. So eventually he made one of the toughest choices he's ever had to make; he resigned from his position as ruler of the elves, to someone far more capable, his best friend and mightiest warrior in their army, Chanyeol.

After the crowning ceremony, as his people  celebrated, he had tried to make a quiet exit from the festivities. Elves enjoyed drinking ale and playing dangerous games once inebriated. He wasn't in the mood to play them. Unfortunately, as he worked his way through the people, he kept being stopped by folks who wanted to thank him for bringing them home and ruling them after his father's death. He waved their words away, simply responding with "I didn't do much." Which was the truth, he hadn't actually done much, but he couldn't tell them that. So he kept pushing his way through to leave but once he was almost out, Chanyeol appeared in front of him. Baekhun sighed.

"I just need to get out," he said, looking up at his tall friend, hoping he'd understand.

Chanyeol's eyes studied the prince with careful thought.

"You're leaving, aren't you? It wasn't just about ruling, you don't want to be in Akron."

Baekhyun was surprised that his friend had read him so well. He gave him a small smile.

"That was a pretty good guess," he started, then his smile faded, "Everything about this place reminds me of her. I can't do it anymore. I'm going back to the mountains. I heard there's still a group of elves staying there because they don't trust the Queen. I will try to convince them that it is safe to come back." An excuse he knew, but it felt better to think of his journey as a mission and not as him giving up and running away from the memory of her.

Chanyeol read the truth in his face as clear as if he were telling him. "If that's what you need to do to feel better then do it. But you've never been a man that loses hope. Not once have I seen you surrender. Why start now?"

"What are you trying to tell me, Chanyeol? I told you there's nothing I can do. She's gone... forever." That last part hurt to say, he almost felt like he couldn't breathe every time the truth hit him.

"You were set on keeping her here once, remember? You searched high and low for a spell to do it. Then finding the ingredients," Chanyeol shuddered at the memory, "getting the troll's heart was some nasty business," he shook his head, "anyways, what I'm trying to say is, you found a way once. If you really can't live without her, then do it again. Just find another way."

Baekhyun stared at his friend. Could he do it? Could he defy the laws of nature.

"I used up all the magic," he said, defeated.

Chanyeol groaned, exasperated, "Magic doesn't just vanish from existence. It's all around us, in the trees, in the river, in every fiber and molecule of life, there is magic. It is sown into the very essence of the world. You just have to learn how to harness it. I'd start with the nymphs, if I were you."

Baekhyun thought about it. He had nothing to lose by trying. He was set on leaving Akron anyways, why not leave with some hope as company?

Finally, he smiled. At this, Chanyeol was relieved, because it was the most genuine smile he'd seen from him since he lost her. He took this as a good sign.

"Now go get your princess."

~

Meanwhile, you were wrestling with the tape that had sealed and kept safe your possessions inside the cardboard boxes. Unpacking had become quite the chore as you couldn't find the box cutter or literally anything with an edge to cut through the tape. Your new apartment looked like a war zone and you expected to come out as the victor. If only you could find something to...

"Keys, of course!"

You grabbed your set of keys dangling from the hook by the door and searched through the label on the boxes to find the ones that you wanted to open first. The one with "bedroom" written on it with a black sharpie caught your eye first. After cutting through the tape, you opened it to go through your belongings. It was mostly books and novels. You smiled, that is, until you spotted a familiar blue cover with stars on it. Your dream journal. You hadn't opened it since... well, since that time. Writing after losing him was unthinkable. There was no way you could ever write another character to life, let alone love them as you had loved him.

You reached for it now with trembling hands and a racing heart. The journal was in pretty bad shape. You had tried getting rid of it once, throwing it in a lake during your spring break vacation, hoping the tightness in your chest would subside. Watching it sink under did the opposite. You had rushed into the water to save it. To save him. Or the memory of him. That afternoon you hurried back home, to find a way to dry and save it from being completely ruined. As painful as it was, you didn't want to forget him. He wasn't part of the real world, but he was real to you.

You opened it now, for the first time, flicking through the wrinkled pages. It was still readable but only to you, the one who had written every word and sentence on it. The tightness in your chest had become a permanent resident and you no longer let it have that much control over you. You ignored it this time as well.

With tears burning in your eyes you started reading. Akron. The Queen. Baekhyun. You smiled at the part where you guys met.

The dress was too revealing, you worried, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You kept pulling up at the fabric over your bust , hoping it would show less cleavage. Your maidens hovered about with jewelry and powders and anything that could make you look more regal. The shortest one, with the dazzling smile and gentle fingers, placed a gold crown on your head. You weren't used to the weight of it. It felt awkward. You thought it made you feel off balance.

Three knocks at the door announced a new visitor.

"Come in," with the words, you also breathe in deeply, maybe a little too quickly as you become dizzy from the action. Your're still in a daze when he walks in.

Plain brown pants. Plain brown tunic. And that's all that is plain about him.

As you finally fix your eyes on his face, your heartbeat picks up its pace. His smile was the first thing that drew you in. It was playful and kind at the same time. You were confused as to how he managed that. His eyes were an ordinary brown at first glance, but the way they held your gaze was anything short of extraordinary. It felt like he could see right through you all the way down to your soul, where you kept the most private things about yourself hidden. You found yourself at a loss for words and at the widening of his smile you knew he could tell he had an effect on you.

"Your majesty," he finally spoke, "my name is Baekhyun, I was told I will have the pleasure of working as your servant from this day onward."

You will never forget the way he spoke then. As if he knew you, your heart and he was ready to take it for himself. You should've known then that he'd succeed. How could he not? He was confident, funny, kind and sometimes a little naughty as well. There was nothing predictable about him. He challenged you almost every occasion he could.

There was only one time you could recall when he was none of these things. Just one time, when his confidence left his shoulders, and his  eyes couldn't seem to find yours. You remember how quiet his voice was as he reached with trembling fingers to hold your hand for the first time. You'd been crying, reminiscing the scene at home. Your parents had been arguing. But the situation had escalated quickly. Words turned into shoving, shoving turned into objects being thrown. The next thing you saw was your mom slide across the dining room floor and into the kitchen, her body hitting the refrigerator. She'd dislocated her arm from the force. You were compelled to go to the hospital with her and lie about how she got hurt. They always made you lie for them. Once back home you'd had to clean up the broken glass and the blood stains on the floor from someone's bare feet who had walked over it.

He'd cried with you as you told him, holding you in his arms like you were his to hold. And you let him, because when everything in your world felt wrong, the warmth of his embrace was the only thing that felt right. His strength was the only thing keeping you together. Just that once did he hesitate. Only that time did he hold back. The next time you dreamed of him, he stole his first kiss from your lips. He never hesitated after that.

So how could you have stopped the beautiful force of nature that was Baekhyun from taking your heart? Just as the sun comes out every day and the moon reflects its light at night, just as everything that happens without fail, it was inevitable to fall in love with him.

But now all that was left of him was this dreadful looking journal and the memories in your head, which will wither away with time until you question if it even happened at all. His eyes will fade like the ink of your favorite purple pen on these wrinkled pages. His smile will become jaded by reality, distorted by the smudged words on a piece of paper. But the worst part was that if he felt for you as he had confessed the last time that you were together, then he was feeling as hopeless and heartbroken as you were. That thought made you sadder than anything else.

You closed the journal gently, as to not cause more damage to it. Then you walked to your room and stored it in the top drawer of the night stand by your bed. You needed to stay focused on the task at hand, which was to unpack everything still stored away in boxes. Pushing thoughts of him out of mind, you went back to work.

Once you are more or less done putting away the stuff in the kitchen, you lay down on the carpeted floor of the small living room. You had no furniture for this space yet, so it was empty. You closed your eyes slowly as they had become heavy with exhaustion. You knew if you kept it up for too long, you'd fall asleep right there. That's how tired you were. So instead, you force yourself to stand up. You decided to take a warm bath and then head out to bed.

You rarely did nice things for yourself, but candles had always been a frivolous need of yours. You lit one in the bathroom as you watched the tub fill up. Once the water was high enough, you undressed and got in the tub. You laid down, resting your head back on the wall as the candle spread the sweet aroma of coconut sunrise in the air.

At this level of relaxation, it doesn't take long for you to drift off into a soft dream.

You were surrounded by tall trees that towered over you like some kind of mythical giants. You glanced up at them, wondering if they would suddenly come to life. They didn't, but the thought that in a dream it was possible, kept you alert to your surroundings. Looking away from them, your gaze comes down to what's in front of you, a vast lake. There were tiny lights shimmering over the water, flying into the air and swirling in perfect unison like small tornadoes. It took you a few seconds to realize they weren't lights.

"Fairies," you whispered. But as if they had heard you speak, they stopped moving, and this made it easier to see their tiny little wings flapping to keep them in the air. You kept quiet and eventually they continued their flight ritual.

"Pixies, actually."

Your heart stopped. Literally, skipped a beat, painfully reminding you that it was still in your chest.

You recognized the voice. You'd know it anywhere. But you were afraid of looking back. You were afraid of hoping it was him and not see his face. You hadn't dreamed of him since the pen incident. So you stayed like that, frozen in place, fear rooting you to that spot.

After a few seconds passed by, you felt it. A hand, resting on your arm, the touch light as a feather, bringing goosebumps across your skin.

"You said writing was the only thing getting you through tough times, how have you survived this long without it?"

You took a deep breath, still unable to move but ready to respond anyways.

"I can't write another you."

That was all you could say. You knew he'd understand the implication of your words. You couldn't risk loving anyone else. You couldn't risk forgetting him. Or replacing him. You wanted your heart to be his and no one else's.

"Then write me again. Write about all the moments we should've lived together. Write me into life."

What was he saying? Why did he want you to torture yourself by writing about him?

"But it hurts," you find yourself saying, tears welling up under your eyes.

"I know, princess, I know. But I need you to write me as if I was never gone."

You turned around then, half expecting to find him standing there, but you were met by a rush of wind that carried his last words as a whisper.

"Write me."

You woke up from the dream in a start, looking around your bathroom like he might appear there from thin air. But as reality set in, your heart sank. Of course he would never be there. Even in the dream you couldn't see him. You brushed away a stray tear from your cheek. He wanted you to write him. About him. You didn't know if it was really him or just your brain playing games with you again, but it was the only sign you'd received from him in months. You wanted to believe it was really him. Your broken heart needed to hope it was him.

So that night you wrote him. Every detail. Every habit. Every look. The way that his lips taste. The hint of gold in his eyes when sunlight washed over his face. The feel of his hand on your cheek. Anything that you could remember about him.

You also wrote about moments that never happened. You wrote him as someone who walked in the real world, facing your kind of problems. Working a 9 to 5 to pay the bills. Running to the corner store to get you that chocolate ice cream you'd been craving since the week started. Eating ramen several times a week when money was tight. Sitting on the couch, the T.V. on in the background as he watched your face  instead of the screen. You wrote about anything you could think of. Anything that you wished you could do with him. You painted his image with vivid and ordinary description, because you wished to live the simplest and most common every day moments with him.

You lost track of time again, as you often did when you were writing. Your hand ached by the time you stopped. You could feel the beginnings of a blister on your middle finger from where you'd been holding the pen with fierce purpose. The shot of adrenaline that hearing his voice gave you had fueled you for hours. But now exhaustion was pulling at your eyelids, making it hard to keep them open. With a sigh, you laid down in bed and hid your body under the covers. You fell asleep then, staring at the ceiling, hugging your journal close to your chest and with a wish in your mind to meet him in your dreams again.

But no such thing happen. You had a dreamless and uneventful night. When you woke up, it was from the sunlight hitting your face because in your tiredness you had forgotten to close the blinds to your windows.

"Stupid sun," you mumbled at your pillow. Covering you face with a blanket to give your eyes time to adjust to the brightness.

"What did the sun ever do to you, princess?"

You froze. Literally, stopped moving in your bed at the sound of his voice.

I've finally lost it, you thought, I've finally lost my mind.

That must be the only explanation. His voice, had been so clear it almost sounded like he was next to you. Writing about him last night must have driven you over the edge. You laughed at yourself and where your imagination had taken you. It wasn't funny, but still you laughed, because there was nothing left for you but to do so, or you'd end up in tears.

"I missed your laugh," you heard the voice again.

This time you didn't laugh. You couldn't. The voice was closer and with the tone you were able to visualize what his face would look like as he spoke. He'd be cupping your face in his hands, his eyes holding yours as if to project his honesty through that one look. It was such a beautiful image the one in your brain, that you could couldn't move to confront it. If you indeed had lost your mind, at least you'd have his words to keep you company.

"Y/N." This was the second time you had ever hear him call you by your name and upon hearing it, your heart did somersaults. You pulled the blanket down, ever so slowly, afraid of meeting an empty space besides you.

But it wasn't empty. Baekhyun laid there, on the side of the bed that was always unoccupied. Until now.

You felt your eyes widening, but you couldn't open your mouth to speak. You didn't know what to say. You were speechless.

Baekhyun smiled as you stared at him. Reaching a hand to touch your face. His touch was warm against your skin. You almost closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation, but you were afraid that he'd be gone when you opened your eyes again. So you kept staring at him, but finally found the will to speak.

"Is this a dream?"

He smiled wider, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he moved closer to you. He only stopped when his face was an inch away from yours. Your breath caught in your throat with the proximity. He was so close you caught a whiff of a woodsy scent that you remembered as exclusively his from your time in Akron.

"Baek-"

Before you could finish saying his name, he trapped your lips with his in a kiss. You didn't want to close your eyes. You didn't want to end the fantasy. But he kissed you fervently and you found yourself losing the will quickly as you kissed him back as desperately. His hand moved under the blanket that covered you and found your waist, pulling your body closer from there until it was completely against his.

As quickly as he started the fire, as swift he was about putting it out when he stopped kissing you. You almost whined in protest and he chuckled in response.

"Does that feel real enough to you?" he asked.

You opened your eyes to meet his beautiful brown ones. The sun was hitting them just the right amount and you could see your reflection in them. You pressed a hand to his face, touching him for the first time.

"How is this possible?" You wanted to ask other questions too, but this was the most important one. "You told me... you told me you used all the magic in Akron. That I would never return once I left."

He smiled, that smile of his that you loved. The one that made him look years younger than he is. His playful smile. "There is always more magic to be found and to be created. A friend reminded me of that. You couldn't come back to me, so I came to you instead."

Your heart was beating so fast that you wondered how it didn't just stop working. There was no way it was healthy for it do that every time you were with Baekhyun. You were still confused and he was being very vague.

"But how did you do it?" you pressed.

He reached for your hand, the one still touching his face and intertwined your fingers with a look of awe in his eyes.

"I didn't. You did," he paused, his gaze meeting yours, "you actually wrote me to life".

You thought he must be kidding, so you waited for the punchline. But his one never came. He was serious.

"I did what?!"

He smiled at you with so much fondness, seeing you as confused as you were.

"You wrote me to life, Y/N. First in your dreams and now here."

"You're real? Like real real?" you knew you sounded idiotic, but it was something hard to wrap your head around.

Baekhyun was a character to a story that you poured a lot of love and time into. Some writers like to say that their characters have a life of their own. But it's just an expression, it's supposed to mean they basically write themselves. They come without effort. But what he is saying is very different. What he is saying sounds so incredibly crazy yet wonderful and though you don't want to let yourself feel hopeful, a seed had taken root in your heart. A seed that you hoped would bloom into reality, a reality where you could live a life of happiness with the one you love.

You knew he could see it on your face, what you were thinking and what you were feeling. So he finally stopped being cryptic.

"I am real. While you wrote me and created a connection between me and the real world, I had one created from Akron to here. The field with the lake where I spoke to you last night, well, the water pixies conjured a portal from our side and you fabricated one from this side, through your journal. Now I can come and go as long as you don't destroy the journal."

He was being truthful, not a note of humor in his expression. You couldn't believe it. It was something out of a fantasy novel. Before you knew it, tears were clouding your vision. Baekhyun reacted as quickly as usual, out of pure instinct, arm draped protectively around your body. You hid your face in the crook of his neck to hide your crying face from him.

"I can't believe I get to live with you." You words are strained with emotion, but you say them anyways.

"I can't believe I get to love you," he says in return. "I thought... I thought I'd lost you forever." His voice cracked at the end. This made you pull back to look at his face. You were surprised to see him crying as well. You knew his pain and that sense of loss because you had felt it yourself.

"Baekhyun." You didn't know what else to say.

"I love you, princess. In Akron and here, in a world I know nothing about."

You smiled at this. The most genuine smile you had ever smiled before. You finally let yourself think about a future with him, because for the first time, it was possible.

"I love you too. I can't wait to teach you all about it. There's a lot you'll love and... well, like you told me once, it's not all rainbows and butterflies."

He smiled at that and you did as well.

Overcome with emotion you kiss him again. Because you can. Because you thought you would never get to do it again. You kiss him and he kisses you back. You both try to project how much love and devotion you have for each other. Your love is literally one from stories. Made up. But more real than anything you had ever experienced in your life. And now you will get to live it and test it and maybe even get that happy ending people like to dream about.

____________________________________

* Masterlist *

____________________________________

A/N: So that came out very meh. But also I always think that about the stuff I write so it’s probably me being a perfectionist. Anyways, hope you still enjoyed it! Thank you so much for the support and love you showed for this random idea I had that turned into this story. Love you guys!

[agentnolastname]

Three Days of Christmas

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Washington Middleton (M!OC) x Rafael Aveiro x Bryce Lahela

Word Count: ~1900

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Washington (the OC) belongs to the giftee. While Ethan, Rafael, and Bryce belongs to Pixelberry.

Note: This a short fic written for @homeformyheart choices potluck event. I have written this for @gamechoices-player! I'm sorry because this took so long, and I hope you enjoy reading it! Fic under the cut!

***

A week before Christmas

"You mean none of yours fully matches with my calendar?" Washington says with a slight frown on his face as he looks down on all the schedule cards laid down on the table. Ethan, Bryce, and Raf all sat in front of him. Ethan just nods at this while the other two shrugs, giving him a smile.

"It's not that bad! We all have a common holiday with you, and we will spend it together." Rafael says trying to ease the mood in the room. It is night anyway, and it is cold outside. A little warmth inside would definitely help in one way or another.

"Right, spend it together, but not you three at once." Sighing, Washington leans back on the couch.

Bryce immediately moves to sit beside him, 'We all know us four can't be absent from Edenbrook. They need the best staff out there, don't they?"

True enough, they already expected this. And yet, Washington can't help but feel sad. Maybe he is just feeling greedy, but it's their first Christmas together! And it needa to be spent with them altogether, which seems impossible now that only him and Ethan have the Christmas free on their calendars.

"Let's just make the most out of it, hmm?" Ethan says suddenly, making all of them nod.

"I guess it'll do." Washington shrugs, and they all laid out some plans together before they decided to call it a day.

Six days before Christmas

"Good morning, babe." Bryce greets as soon as he opens his eyes. Washington smiles at him, basking in the feeling of having a complete eight-hour sleep without feeling guilty about it.

Maybe I can sleep some more.

Bryce must've noticed his intention to slip back into sleep, which is why the man had immediately placed a quick peck on his lips, lightly tapping his cheeks in the process. Washington groans but proceeds to look at the man though, one eyebrow raised in question. Bryce laughs at him before finally reminding him of their agenda for today, "I believe we need to head into the mall, your majesty."

Washington playfully hits the latter's chest at the nickname, but he gets up anyway, heading straight into the shower. Bryce followed in after a few minutes. And together, they showered, got dressed, and left the penthouse to the mall. Hand in hand, and with happy smiles in their faces.

Maybe this isn't so bad afterall.

It really wasn't much. As always, he enjoyed going out into the mall with Bryce. The activity was very usual for the two of them, but somehow, today was a little different. Maybe it was the continuous christmas songs playing on the radio, or the cold winter air that wraps them. Whatever it is, it sure brought a smile to both of their faces. So Washington is thankful.

The day went by quickly. Before he even knew it, Bryce was leading him into the parking lot as they push a cart full of christmas decorations approaching their car. His boyfriend smiles at him, the kind of smile that is sure to make everyone swoon- him included. Then something in his brain snaps, and his eyes grew wide.

"You forgot to buy your gift!" Washington says.

"Did I? I didn't." Bryce says and shrugs.

"But I did not see you?"

"It is called a surprise for a reason, babe." Bryce chuckles squeezing his hands.

"You've got a point."

And now that the worry is dropped, the two enters the car. Finally driving off home as the sun slowly sets on the east side.

Four days before Christmas

It was once again, Washington's free day. Today he shares it with Rafael. There is really nothing much to do, but to continue decorating the tree and placing the gifts underneath it.

It didn't last long, a few hours after they both woke up, Rafael is already placing the star on top of the tree. And it is the last of the trinkets they'd have to put. Now there's only a few things missing– the gifts.

"You got your gifts already?" Washington asked looking at Raf who is smiling brightly at him as they make themselves comfortable on the floor, sitting beside the tree.

"I got it a few days ago actually." Rafael shrugs, "Can I go and get it first so we can place it under the tree now?"

"Of course, love." With this, Rafael stands and walks into their room. Only to return with four gift bags in hand. On each one hangs a gift tag with their names on it, including his own. "You got one for yourself, too?"

"Yes, I did." Rafael says as he puts them under the tree. Then he immediately return to Washington's side and wrapped his arms around the man. "How are you feeling about holidays so far?"

"Great. I have you guys, what's not to feel good about?" Washington says and smiles at the latter before he leans his head into Raf's shoulders, "How about you?"

"The same as you." Rafael says simply as casts yet another bright smile.

Together, they adore the tree that stands in their living room, now fully decorated with red and gold trinkets. For people who aren't feeling Christmassy, it looks nice. Washington thought. And just like that, they are ready for Christmas.

Two days before Christmas

"Why are you up so early?" Washington asked as he strides into their kitchen, seeing Ethan wearing his dark blue apron on, and his hands are already so busy kneeding a large dough.

Washington approaches the man, he stands beside the latter.

"To finish preparing for christmas eve," Ethan answers before he looks up meeting the younger's sleepy eyes. Ethan's eyes visibly softens, before he leans in to kiss the younger on the forehead. "why are you up so early?"

"Looking for warmth." He says truthfully and shrugs. Ethan chuckles at this.

"It's good that breakfast is already ready then." The older man says, briefly leaving the though to get a plate of food on the other counter.

"Will you eat with me?" Washington asked as the man placed the food on the island closest to him.

"No, I already ate with Raf and Bryce earlier."

"Understandable."

Ethan just hums in response as his focus completely falls back into the cookie dough. Washington sits on the kitchen bar stool, eating what the older man had served him. It was their usual bacon and fries, but with the mash potato that he loves so much at the side.

"Are you making christmas cookies?" Washington asked as he recognized a santa cookie cutter. It's fairly new, they didn't have it before.

"Indeed, I am," The latter smiles at him. "Sienna had told me that you liked her cookies, so I'm making it all for you now."

"You're really so sweet."

"I believe the cookie deserves that compliment instead."

Chuckling, Washington returned back to eating. And the whole day was spent with Ethan just continuously preparing foods, after another. Washington helps him whenever he can. It was a fun day, all in all. Specially when Washington gets to steal a few cookies and kisses from time to time.

And no, this holiday wasn't bad at all.

Christmas Eve

Washington sighs as the last patient in the emergency room was assessed. It was nothing serious, and he was so glad that the patient was just dehydrated. So it really wasn't much. Finally, the emergency room is now empty, they can atleast take a little rest.

Heading straight into Ethan's office, he can already see his boyfriends through the glass walls. Once he enters the room, the three smiled at him, and it is only then that he noticed their clothes. The three are wearing the same christmas sweaters, and yes, even Ethan Ramsey is wearing it with a smile.

"What's all of this about?" He asked, making his way to sit at the empty chair in the middle of Raf and Bryce, facing the older man.

"Raf's gift to us. It looks good, isn't it?" Bryce said with a grin on his face, while Washington unwraps the gift Raf had handed him earlier.

"It is good," Washington says, smiling at the thought and slipping the sweater on. "Thanks, love."

"You are most welcome."

They spent a few minutes more talking with each other. And when Washington yawns, Bryce had immediately stood, looking at his clock, "I belive our shift is over now." He says, looking over the man beside him before he smiles at the other two, "Enjoy working on Christmas Eve, you two."

"My gift would be at home." Ethan suddenly says and smiles, "You two will see it first. Raf will see it in the morning when our shift is over."

"Of course."

"Take care, you two." Rafael says and stand to give each of them a peck on the cheek. Washington does the same for Raf and Ethan.

The ride home wasn't long, especially when Washington's view is of Bryce smiling widely on the driver's seat. It was a sight that can absolutely treat sore eyes. They immediately enter the apartment once they arrived, seeing the cookie jars resting on the coffee table with each their names on it. The cookies in the jars are each different. Bryce had chocolates in them since he loves it.

'I hope these will be enough to satisfy your sweet tooth. Merry Christmas.'

Both of them smiles at this, at least now they will not pester Sienna for sugar cookies. And it was a very thoughtful gift. That being said, Washington's eyes immediately went to the man happily munching on one of the cookies.

"Where's your gift?" He asked Bryce, opening his jar of cookies to do the same.

"Under the tree," Bryce paused and smiled, 'and also hanged on our door." He says pointing at their bedroom door where a mistletoe hangs.

"Did you seriously get a mistletoe for a gift?"

"Why not when it will earn me kisses?"

"You know you could just ask." Washington shrugged.

"Now, where's the fun in that?" Bryce said and the latter nods at him.

"In the morning then, so we will all be here. Now can we take a shower and rest? I'm literally so tired." Washington says and leans back on the sofa.

"Alright then."

And on Christmas morning, when Washington awoke, he finds all three of his boyfriends sleeping beside him. Ethan and Raf must have arrived a few hours earlier. Bryce stirs and smiles at Washington before he stood and got the mistletoe out of the door, placing it on top of their bed instead.

"Good morning." Bryce says and smiles, placing a tender kiss on his forehead.

"A mistletoe kiss on the forehead?"

"It will do for a while, extremes later?" He playfully said before he leans down to do the same for Ethan and Raf. "Now, we should go to work."

"You're probably right."

With this, Washington followed Bryce into the kitchen, preparing for work. And as Bryce prepares for breakfast, Washington sat in the dining room, thinking about everything that happened during the holidays. It's Christmas, and they are all together, it's the only gift he ever needs.

And despite their schedules not matching, his boyfriends were still able to find a way to spend time together. So no, this holiday isn't bad at all.

END.

[onthevirgeofdestruction]

A Whole Castle

Words: 1,512 Warnings: Arguing Characters: Logan, Roman, Virgil, Janus, Patton Universe: Whole Castle Genre: Family Fluff Additional Tags: Logan Sanders is Extra about Safety

an ask about Pat’s developmental issues set my writing demon off

   “It’s dangerous, Roman, why did you order this?” Logan sighed and rubbed his face, lightly kicking the giant box on the patio in front of them.

   “The occupational therapist recommended we try to get him more physical to help out with his development, and he doesn’t enjoy walking or biking,” Roman said a little sheepishly, looking away and rubbing his arm nervously.

   “You are clearly hiding something,” Logan narrowed his eyes at Roman and took his hand.

   “So, Virgil might have convinced me. He said he refused to stop throwing Patton on his bed and I don’t want them to break the frame. I know Patton is small, but… well, Virgil was very convincing, he had plenty of reasons and you should have seen his face,” Roman admitted, thinking of Virgil affectionately.

   “He’s been… throwing Patton?” Logan’s eyes narrowed at Roman. “And you didn’t stop him?” Logan said accusatorily.

   “Whoops,” Roman bit his lip nervously. “You weren’t supposed to know about that,” Roman said quietly and wrung his fingers.

   “Roman,” Logan said evenly, looking frustrated and tapping his foot on the concrete patio.

   “You should hear his cute little scream when Virgil throws him! It’s adorable and the occupational therapist says it’s healthy and Patton is okay,” Roman said defensively. “It’ll be much safer with the trampoline!” Roman added hopefully.

   “How! He could fall off and break his arm, he’s still very small,” Logan shot, motioning to the giant box and glowering at it.

   “It’s got a net and safety features, Logan, I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen Patton skid into the wall on the bed,” Roman rolled his eyes.

   “Roman!” Logan shot louder. Roman frowned at Logan, who swallowed and looked sadly to Roman. “I’m sorry for yelling. I hope the children didn’t hear,” Logan exhaled in frustration. “Please tell me he wasn’t hurt,” Logan took off his glasses and cleaned them on his shirt while he fumed.

   “He was fine, he didn’t even cry. Not even a bump,” Roman sighed, stroking Logan’s hand with his thumb. “I didn’t want you to worry, so I didn’t mention it. I don’t like discouraging Virgil from spending time with Patton and they both enjoy it,” Roman explained quietly.

   “All right. The netting is thick and safe?” Logan asked tiredly.

   “According to the reviews it is. We couldn’t afford one of the high-end ones, they’re absolutely ridiculously priced,” Roman huffed in frustration. “But most of the reviews are high. There’s even a video of someone taking a knife to the net and it not tearing easily,” Roman added, feeling a little relieved.

   “All right. I suppose I can accept that. But we’re returning it if Patton gets even close to hurting himself,” Logan held up his finger and pointed menacingly at Roman.

   “Fine,” Roman rolled his eyes and huffed. “Getting some minor battle damage as a kid is good for you, too, you know. A skid knee isn’t the end of the world,” Roman flipped out his free hand. Logan sighed forcefully again, sliding his glasses back on his face.

   “I feel like they’ve both had enough damage for a lifetime and do not want to cause any further pain,” Logan said quietly. “I wouldn’t prefer they even got a paper cut under our watch,” Logan squeezed Roman’s hand and let go. “And I will not be a part of building that potential death trap,” Logan pointed to the giant box.

   “That’s fine, darling. I understand,” Roman leaned forward and kissed Logan on the cheek. Logan smiled slightly and went inside. Roman stared at the giant box for a moment, trying to figure out how to get this monstrosity to the backyard. Roman grunted as he began sliding the box across the concrete path to the driveway to go around to the fence gate.

   “You got the trampoline!” Virgil ran up from behind Roman and helped him propel it forward. Angling it was a group effort with a symphony with annoyed grunts and huffs as they fought the giant box through the grass into the backyard.

   “This will be… an event,” Roman exhaled and wiped his forehead when they finally got the box close the patio to unbox the components.

   “Uh, yeah. Let me ask Janus and see if he wants to come over and help,” Virgil huffed a tired breath and fanned himself with his hoodie as he pulled out his phone. Virgil texted Janus while Roman went inside for the toolbox and a box cutter, though he had to go all the way around since the back door wasn’t unlocked.

   Roman came back outside and sliced open the box, Virgil helping him slide out the pieces and position them so that they could possibly build this thing. Virgil started flipping through the building guide while Roman stared in confusion at the pieces that were coming out. The professional building cost extra, and Roman bemoaned not having the money for it as he surveyed this massive pain in the ass.

   Janus came over to help, and they attracted a wild Patton who watched with interest from the shade of the house’s awning. Logan came out with a hex tool that they needed that wasn’t in the tool kit and ended up staying to oversee the process, fussing over minor details. Logan was the most adept at understanding the manual, though, and the amount of bickering and bafflement dropped nearly to zero with Logan directing Roman, Virgil, and Janus as they took on different tasks.

   Despite Virgil and Janus’s whining they wanted to jump on as soon as it was complete, Logan insisted on checking on the safety and the tightness of the components and even the stability of the ladder first. Virgil and Janus busied themselves with amusing an impatient and fussy Patton by playing tag in the yard, instead. Roman was not so happy about being ‘home base’ and getting accidentally tousled while kids ran around him, but Patton’s excited and devious giggle and Janus’s relieved sigh were more than enough to make him tolerate it.

   “It’s all clear. But do continue to be careful, regardless,” Logan warned as he unzipped the entrance. Virgil swept up Patton with a maniacal cackle and ran up to the trampoline. “Virgil!” Logan objected as Virgil climbed up a step and literally threw Patton inside the net.

   “Yeet the child to calibrate his GPS!” Virgil cried out and Patton screeched with laughter as he bounced on the trampoline and safely bounded against the net and back down on the trampoline.

   “Virgil!” Logan narrowed his eyes at Virgil, but Virgil just cackled at him. Roman put his arm on Logan’s shoulder and smiled.

   “Patton’s fine, see?” Roman pointed to Patton already joyfully rebounding on the trampoline, screaming with delight when he got launched up high by Janus’s determined jump when he first entered the trampoline. Logan sighed and zipped up the entrance, observing them carefully.

   “I don’t know about all three of them being in there,” Logan grumbled.

   “Virgil is helping Patton stay upright, see?” Roman motioned to Virgil helping Patton who was wobbling on the uneven surface. “They’re being safe and giving each other room. Do you want to help me make some lemonade? I always overdo it with the sugar,” Roman kissed Logan on the cheek. Logan sighed and watched them for a moment longer.

   “Boys?” Logan called out, and all three stopped and looked to Logan. “Be careful, please,” He pleaded.

   “We’ll be fine, dad,” Virgil rolled his eyes and jumped, launching Patton off the trampoline with a squeaky scream.

   “I suppose I should start dinner. Janus, are you opposed to pork tenderloin?” Logan asked loudly over Virgil’s maniacal laugh as he scooped up Patton and jumped in tandem with Janus to jump higher.

   “No,” Janus called, pushing off the trampoline hard with Virgil. Patton beamed with delight and Logan winced with the height they were gaining together. Virgil was holding on to Patton tight and Patton was gripping Virgil’s hoodie, so it didn’t appear as Virgil would drop him. Roman squeezed Logan’s shoulder.

   “They’ll be okay, darling. A bump here or there is all right, and they’re watching out for each other. You can stay out here and keep an eye on them if it’ll help you feel better,” Roman said consolingly. Logan watched them with furrowed eyebrows for a bit longer, crossing his arms. Virgil laughed and clambered through the net, quickly re-zipping it behind him. He basically tackle-hugged Roman and Logan together.

   “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Virgil’s words ran into each other and he beamed up at them before backing up quickly. He coughed awkwardly and rubbed his arm for a moment, then climbed back up and rejoined Patton and Janus on the trampoline. Virgil took Patton’s hands and jumped together with him. Logan’s face softened, and he sighed contentedly. Roman leaned in to hug Logan from the side and rested his head on Logan’s shoulder while they both watched the kids jumping with renewed vigor, the encroaching evening air filled with crickets and ecstatic laughter.

Taglist: @elizabutgayer​ @radioactivehelena @ollyollyoxinfree 

The Taglist Repository Taglist: (ask to be removed)

freakin’ everything: @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @ananonsplace @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven@grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

Human AU:  @somehow-i-got-an-account  @starlight-era  @just-your-typical-trans-guy @potatsanderssides @idont-freaking-know

Logince:  @idontcareaboutcanon @silverobsidion-speaks  @a-fandom-trashdump  @averykedavra @k1ngtok1 @potatsanderssides

Platonic Moxiety:  @kieraelieson  @star-crossed-shipper​

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Foster:  @i-am-not-a-dinner-roll @nonasficcollection @idont-freaking-know

Found Family:  @supernovainthenightsky 

[the--blackdahlia]

The Hunters Chapter 14

Title: The Hunters Chapter 14

Summary: What happens when four idiots get together? Nikki’s looking for his dad. Tommy’s trying to get out of his mom’s shadow. Vince is along for the ride. And Mick is just trying to keep them alive. Which is harder than it sounds when then Winchesters join the fray.

Warnings: Language, violence, m/m smut, canon divergence, character deaths (temporarily), wincest if you squint (may add more tags as I go)

Tommy dialed his mom and dad’s number and leaned back against Nikki as he listened to the ring on the other end. Nikki rubbed his back gently as he waited. Tommy expected the machine to pick up. He did not expect his mom to actually answer.

“Hello?” Voula answered as she picked up the phone.

“Mom?” Tommy asked. “You’re awake?”

“You caught me on a water run,” She explained. “It’s two in the morning. Tommy, are you okay?”

“I…” He gulped a little. “There was a demon in the apartment mom. A demon that was after me.”

“Το μέλλον του. Για να είναι η καλύτερη πηγή για τον βασιλιά αγόρι. Για να εξυπηρετήσω τον κύριό μου ... και είμαι σίγουρος ότι δεν θέλετε να μάθετε όλες τις βρώμικες λεπτομέρειες. (His future. To be the best resource to the boy king. To serve my lord and...well, I'm sure you don't want to know all the dirty details.)” Played in Voula’s head as she thought back to the day that made her take Tommy and head to America.

“γαμώ! (Fuck!)” Voula called out. “Γι 'αυτό εγκαταλείψαμε την Ελλάδα. Ήθελα να το αποφύγω. Οι γαμημένοι δαίμονες έρχονται μετά το αγόρι μου και εγώ… (This is why we left Greece. I wanted to avoid this. Fucking demons coming after my boy and I…)”

“Mom,” Tommy cut her off. “I can’t understand you when you get hysterical. What’s going on?”

“I’ll come explain it to you later. Right now, I need you to call Bobby Singer. He’s going to find someplace safe for you,” Voula told him.

“Bobby? You know Bobby?” Tommy asked. “Mom, what is going on?”

“Thomas! Quit arguing with me and do it!” Voula yelled at her son. Nikki could hear and saw the way Tommy cringed at her calling him Thomas. “I will be over in a few hours. Did the demon give you a name?”

“No,” Tommy shook his head. “The lore in your journal says demons have black eyes though, right?”

“Most demons. There are expectations based on ranking,” Voula explained.

“Well, this one had yellow,” Tommy told her. Voula was silent on the other end. “Mom?”

“Did...did you say yellow?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah. Why?” Tommy asked.

“I’m coming over there right now and you’re coming back home,” Voula told him.

“Mom, no,” Tommy told her. “I don’t want to come home. I just want you to tell me what’s going on.” He heard her sigh and the phone shift.

“I don’t want to explain over the phone,” She told him, which caused Tommy and Nikki to look at each other. The entire time Tommy hunted with Voula, and the entire time Nikki had known her, she had never been one to shy away from telling things over the phone. “Call Bobby. Explain it to him. I will see you in a few hours, okay?”

“Okay,” Tommy nodded.

“I love you honey,” Voula told him.

“Love you too mom,” They both hung up. Nikki watched Tommy’s hand tremble as he rested the phone back in the cradle.

“I’ll call Bobby for you,” Nikki told him. Tommy just nodded. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. As long as I’m here, nothing’s gonna hurt you.” He kissed Tommy’s temple. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep while I call Bobby?”

“Yeah…” Tommy sighed. He kept thinking about what the demon had said, about special children, and then his mind drifted to the girl, Carrie, and the way she pushed him away using her mind. Was she one of them? Who else was? There were so many questions rattling around in Tommy’s head as he let his eyes fall closed and rested against Nikki’s chest.

****

Nikki didn’t sleep after he hung up with Bobby. He’d be lying if he told people he wasn’t extremely worried about all this. He had seen one demon in his life. Bobby and him had used it to find out where Frank was, but the demon knew nothing. That’s when he learned a rule of thumb for dealing with demons.

Demons lie.

No matter what they say, you don’t believe it until you can prove the truth. Even though, Bobby did explain to him that they will tell the truth if it hurts more than a lie will. Or if they are in extreme pain, such as during an exorcism or when being bathed in holy water.

“Are angels real?”

“I’ve never seen one, but don’t get your hopes up, kid,”

“Hey, I’m making some coffee. Want some?” Vince whispered from the kitchen, not wanting to wake up Tommy.

“Yeah, I’ll take a cup,” Nikki nodded. He gently moved Tommy so he was fully on the couch and stood up to stretch his back and let his knees pop. He went to the small kitchen area where Mick had brought an old coffee maker when he moved in with them. Vince was making coffee while Mick was warding the house.

“This is all insane,” Vince told Nikki as he poured him a cup of the black brew. “Tommy has visions, demons are real. What next? Mermaid in the bathtub? Tooth fairy wondering the strip picking up knocked out teeth from a fight?”

“That’s some...really vivid imagination there Vince,” Nikki shook his head. “Bobby told me he’ll talk to Rufus and find us a place to hide out.”

“If he can track him down,” Vince told him. “Rufus has been known to be a little elusive at times.”

“How do you know Rufus?” Nikki asked, leaning on the counter. Vince sighed and turned to the fridge, pulling out a half-empty bottle of Bailey’s and pouring it into his coffee. “Wow, going Irish?”

“It was a camping trip,” Vince told him. “Mom and dad and me. It was supposed to be fun but these things that I later found out were vampires, they got us. Rufus and this other guy, I think he said his name was Gordon, they showed up to help us out. But Gordon, he thought my parents had been turned and he…” Vince closed his eyes. “He killed them. He…”

“Oh god,” Nikki whispered.

“Rufus took me. He kept me safe from Gordon. I never saw his face, and Rufus never made me be around him. He helped train me to be a hunter, and he sent me to school, where I met Tommy. And I found out he was a hunter when his mom and Rufus took us on a hunt together.”

“That’s awful,” Nikki told him as he watched Vince chug his drink. “My dad walked out on me when I was two. I went through a cycle of abusive stepdads, being dropped off with my grandparents, etc. I didn’t find out my dad was a hunter until years later, when Bobby saved me from a wolf.”

“Our lives man,” Vince shook his head. “Mick doesn’t really talk about his past or anything. And I don’t push it.”

“I can’t believe how things played out,” Nikki told him. “I honestly was hoping to be a rockstar at some point, but I’m pretty happy with our little cover band.” Vince was about to speak when a noise was heard from the living room. Nikki looked at Tommy to see him moving in his sleep.

“T-Bone?” Vince asked. Tommy whimpered and thrashed before he screamed.

*****

“You’re a monster,” A woman with long, grey hair, hissed at a girl. “The bible tells me I have to do this.”

“Mama no,” Tommy looked at Carrie, who had blood staining her skin. “Mama please.”

“Monster!” The woman hissed. She went to stab Carrie with what looked like a box cutter of some sorts, when Carrie, who was tied to a chair, used her mind to rip the knife from her hands and plunge it into her mother's heart.

Forever Tags: @dekahg​ @marvel-af-imagines​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @nanie5​ @gemini0410​ @aiaranradnay​ @babypink224221​ @mogarukes​ @xxwarhawk​ @sandlee44​ @shatteredabby​ @caswinchester2000​ @lauravic​ @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @teller258316​ @horrorpxnk​ @tommyleeownsme​ @marvelismylifffe​ @mrslogansixxpixx-deactivated202​ @jaxl-road​

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[twilightbark]

$10 DIY Mickey Mouse Ears

Are you heading to the parks and want to wear a pair of Mickey ears, but the theme you want for the ears are not sold in the parks? Have you searched online to find the perfect ears only to see that the price tag is a lot higher than you are willing to spend? Do you want your own unique pair of ears that no one else has? Then you have come to the right place! As someone whose favorite characters and rides are ones that are not popular it has been hard to find merchandise of them especially Mickey ears which is why I had to make my own. In this tutorial I will show you how I make my Mickey ears on a budget. Now, I live in Pennsylvania so I know prices for items fluctuate depending on where you live and you might not have the stores I mentioned, but hopefully you have something equivalent. This tutorial is meant for anyone to use even people who believe that DIY is not for them due to their lack of artistic ability. This is a simple tutorial that will show each step. I hope you find this tutorial helpful and if you have any questions feel free to send me a message!

In this tutorial I will be making Megara (Meg) from Hercules for my friend’s mom for our upcoming Disneyland Paris trip. Your ears can be customized to however you feel and I will have some examples after the tutorial for you to see to gain inspiration from!

Materials:

- 1 headband (Dollar Tree: $1)

- 2 bouquets of fake flowers (Dollar Tree: $2)

- 1 colored floral wire (Dollar Tree: $1)

- 1 pair of wire cutters (Dollar Tree: $1)

- 1 roll of ribbon (Dollar Tree: $1)

- 1 purple bow (Michaels: $2 (used 50% off coupon any regular priced item which I found on the app)

- 1 glue gun (mine is a hand me down from my dad, but Dollar Tree has glue guns and glue now) (Dollar Tree: $1)

- 1 pack of glue gun glue (Dollar Tree: $1)

- Any other items to decorate your ears. I am using a piece of yellow felt (39 cents) and glitter glue ($1.99)

Total: $10 for all the basic materials, but if you choose to get more items to decorate your ears then it will be more so for this pair we are at $12.38.

Step 1:

Take the metal wire and loop it around a round cup to make a circle. It is okay if the wire is bent. You will straighten it out later.

Step 2:

Cut the wire at the end. Make sure that you cut it a little longer than you have it now so that you can wrap it around the headband later. Repeat steps 1 and 2 one more time so that you have two metal circles.

Step 3:

Wrap your wire around the head band and then press the wire into the headband (don’t worry you won’t break anything so use some force). That wire will cling onto the headband and stay in place while you continue working on it. This is the reason in the previous step it was said to have a longer piece of wire so that you can wrap it around the headband. Do this for both pieces of metal wire.

Step 4:

Heat up your glue gun and once it is heated squeeze out some glue on the bottom of the head band on the inside of it. Only do this once on one side.

Step 5: 

Before the hot glue starts to cool take the end piece of your spool of ribbon and put it on the glue.

Step 6: 

Wrap the ribbon around the entirety of the headband. When you get to the metal part of the ears wrap the ribbon around them and pull to make sure it is tight and the metal ears are in place. You can also wrap it a few times around the metal parts to secure it even more, if you are worried that the ears are not secure enough.

Step 7: The Halfway Mark

You are halfway done with your Mickey Mouse ears! Woohoo! Let’s keep going. Below is what your product should be looking like at this point. The wire ears are made, put on, and secured with the ribbon. The ribbon is all around the headband and once you have glued it down on the other side of the headband (like you did in step 4), you can cut the remaining ribbon off.

Step 8: 

Now we are going onto the decoration portion of the Mickey ears. Take the fake flowers you bought and take them off the stems. The stems can be tossed out since they will not be used in this tutorial. Once you have all the flowers off the stems take them apart. Separate the plastic parts of it and the flower itself.

Step 9:

Now that you have taken the flowers apart, it is time to put them back together! You hot glue the center of one piece of the flower and add the other piece on top. Continue doing this for as many flowers as you need to go around the headband. Be sure to leave a few pieces left over so you can use them to fill any gaps in the headband.

Step 10:

Hot glue the flowers to the top part of the head band (the part that will be seen by people, not the part that sits on your head). You can hot glue them however you want and in whatever order you want. Since I picked up different types of flowers I alternated them when I hot glued them down. Make sure to cover the entirety of the top part of the headband. Including the parts inside the ears and around the metal wires. Once you finish this look to see any gaps in the headband and hot glue the rest of the pieces. I also like to cut the extra flowers into smaller pieces (cut the petals apart) and hot glue the petals on the inside of the headband, but it is your preference if you want to do that. By buying two bouquets you should have enough flowers left over to fill in the gaps and use the petals for the inside.

Step 11:

For this set of Mickey ears I decided to add detail to it by using felt and gold glitter glue. If you are not adding anymore detail you may skip this step and go to step 12. For these ears I cut a circle out of yellow felt and made a swirl with gold glitter glue. Once the glue dried I hot glued the felt to the purple bow I got from Michaels.

Step 12:

Now we move onto the bow. The bow I bought has a clip on the back so I simply clipped it onto the metal part of one ear and slid it over so that it clips onto both ears. To keep the bow in place I hot glued around the clip and in between it so it doesn’t open up or shift around and now you are done!

Here are pictures of the final product:

The wonderful part of this tutorial is that you can get as creative as you want! This tutorial demonstrates the basics of making these ears, but you can let your imagination run wild and create all sorts of designs. 

Here are a few other ears I made using this tutorial:

You look amazing with your new Mickey Mouse ears! I hope they bring you joy and that you enjoy wearing them. If you have any questions feel free to message me and feel free to submit pictures of your Mickey ears, I would love to feature them on my blog. 

See ya real soon!

[geejaysmith]

Kat and I have amazing conversations sometimes and I felt they had to be shared. Also, alienfuckers, dad jokes, Maxwell’s alternative lifestyle and other headcanons, and Ace Attorney: Doug Eiffel edition. Full transcript under the cut.

Gill [Yesterday at 6:05 PM]: On an Unrelated topic: after the finale the crew remembers "OH YEAH, EIFFEL ACTUALLY HAD A FACE-TO-FACE CONVERSATION WITH ALIENS" and now in addition to all the other reasons to want him to Remember they're really freakin' curious to know how that went

Kat [Yesterday at 6:11 PM]: Minkowski: so what did they look like Eiffel: me (They do seem to like his body, they had a few models to choose from when talking to Cutter.)

Gill [Yesterday at 6:13 PM]: Eiffel, probably: at least the aliens think I'm cool I know what was meant by that but your phrasing made me think "In a shocking turn of events, it is the aliens who are attracted to the human." The aliens... are alienfuckers

Kat [Yesterday at 6:17 PM]: I don't think that's their jam but that WOULD be just his luck

Gill [Yesterday at 6:18 PM]: It is unlikely, but also: it would be hilarious

Kat [Yesterday at 6:21 PM]: the aliens keep sending me mental sexts and i crave death

Gill [Yesterday at 6:22 PM]: And lo another shitpost transforms into a fanfic concept, like a humble irradiated lizard becoming Godzilla: "would you fuck your clone?"

Kat [Yesterday at 6:28 PM]: leave him alone has the man not suffered enough

Gill [Yesterday at 6:28 PM]: No

Kat [Yesterday at 6:29 PM]: sigh

Gill [Yesterday at 6:29 PM]: Dance for my amusement, Douglas And also because I earnestly suspect that in the case of Eiffel and an interested alien-consciousness-in-the-form-of-a-Xerox-copy-of-him the answer would end up being "yes"

Kat [Yesterday at 6:34 PM]: idk i feel like it'd be more like "Oh what you spend two fucking years trying to drag us into the star because you can't be assed to make an appearance but you'll teleport across the galaxy for a booty call? Fuck you and I mean that figuratively" later sluts

Gill [Yesterday at 6:36 PM]: Bob is a bad datemate Is this entire train of thought brought on by the fact I still think of the person who expressed they shipped Bob/Eiffel in the tags of the "Take your double to Disneyland" post? Perhaps

Kat [Yesterday at 6:39 PM]: i don't know that you can have this at the same time as 'what if the aliens' bodies are still the people suppressed' without it getting Fucked Up but that's your perogative I guess as long as I don't have to hear about it family can't walk w me tonight so i need to hit the treadmill for a bit. ttyl

Gill [Yesterday at 6:41 PM]: See u in a bit! But ah yes, I hadn't thought of that til you brought it up Points at one explanation of Dear Listener manifestations for some ideas, points at a different explanation for ideas that would become unintentionally Pretty Fucked Up under the first explanation Although there is comedy potential to be found in Eiffel and Eiffel-2 having the "are we down with this" conversation In the /Justin McElroy voice, "someone just discovered they have ~the world's worst fetish~" sense

Kat [Yesterday at 7:33 PM]: a different terrible concept: eiffel with his pop culture references restored will likely be called upon to testify at the united nations

Gill [Yesterday at 7:37 PM]: O h  g o d Ace Attorney: Doug Eiffel edition

Kat [Yesterday at 7:46 PM]: i mean they're gonna have to tell the world SOMEHOW and i'd think the international court would want to know and he's the one with the subconscious recall implanted sidenote if the DL can do that mental transfer could they have just... asked them to reupload whatever their most recent scan of eiffel was there are so many ways around this that's why it failed to get much of an emotional rxn from me

Gill [Yesterday at 7:47 PM]: Minkowski and Lovelace trying to get him to practice his testimony bc if they hit enough subconscious recall triggers they can at LEAST get thru an explanation of the aliens without Eiffel going off into a tangent Once they're off the Dear Listeners' script though all bets are off

Kat [Yesterday at 7:48 PM]: here's a list of preplanned questions your honor we're not responsible if you ask anything else

Gill [Yesterday at 7:51 PM]: Eiffel, maybe: now Goddard didn't send up us there to bring home any xenomorphs but let me tell you, with the Decima project? They might as WELL have let a facehugger get up close and personal with me The translators rapidly swapping notes on late 70's sci-of cinema because a handful of them actually know what he's talking about

Kat [Yesterday at 7:54 PM]: Minkowski headdesking behind him Eiffel English isn't most of these people's first languages

Gill [Yesterday at 7:57 PM]: The news cameras are all dead-focused on Eiffel. He's hit his stride and is picking up steam. "And it was right around the time I was coughing up my liquefied respiratory system that I thought to myself, gee, I'd MUCH rather get a face of alien wing-wong than deal with this!" Minkowski is off to the side. She is visibly restraining herself. No poker face in the world can hide how hard she is longing for death. Whether it is hers or Eiffel's is a subject of contentious debate.

Kat [Yesterday at 7:58 PM]: someone at an elementary school: hey Garcia, is that your dad

Gill [Yesterday at 8:01 PM]: Anne, who was four the last time she saw her father in person, gets one look at the man weaving an intricate Star Wars metaphor out of crimes against humanity and recognizes him instantly, but signs back "I have never seen this guy before in my life."

Kat [Yesterday at 8:04 PM]: good call kiddo

============

Gill [Yesterday at 8:10 PM]: Honestly I love the concept that no matter how much Eiffel may drive them up the wall sometimes the rest of the crew would meet Anne and immediately be ready to kill a man for her sake

Kat [Yesterday at 8:15 PM]: as far as we know he's the only crewmember with kids women in the military... it wouldn't be easy even if you wanted one, which idk if any of them did

Gill [Yesterday at 8:15 PM]: Wait wait, brainwave: it is actually AMAZING that Minkowski had no idea Eiffel had a child because... does he seem like the kind of guy. Who would ever resist a Dad Joke.

Kat [Yesterday at 8:15 PM]: haha fair

Gill [Yesterday at 8:16 PM]: Eiffel: Actually, I have amazing self-restraint when I choose to exercise it. (Various noises of disbelief.) Eiffel: have you ever heard me tell a dad joke? No? I rest my case

Kat [Yesterday at 8:21 PM]: biggest plot hole of the series more like it was too painful a memory but still

Gill [Yesterday at 8:22 PM]: If he ever patches that connection it'll open the floodgates

Kat [Yesterday at 8:26 PM]: He'll become the Maes Hughes of the gang, except with fewer war crimes

Gill [Yesterday at 8:27 PM]: ...has anyone on this crew done war crimes? SI-5 excepted of course, they have obviously done war crimes

Kat [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: yeah SI5 is war crime central I'm not sure about some of the other stuff executing a prisoner? idk about Minkowski

Gill [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: Also my thought

Kat [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: she wasn't a formal pow though it was an ongoing engagement I don't know the rules

Gill [Yesterday at 8:32 PM]: Minkowski Has Done One (1) War Crime (Goddard Futuristics attempts to bring that against her in the court case only for Maxwell to stroll in like lol what's up gang)

Kat [Yesterday at 8:37 PM]: does Goddard in its current incarnation last long enough to sue anyone i mean i think you could sue them for attempted genocide

Gill [Yesterday at 8:38 PM]: Look I have had one semester of business law You were the one who almost went to law school Also re: other characters being parents, the only one I could see going kiiiinda either way on the subject is Lovelace and it wouldn't have been terribly high on her priority list prior to the Hephaestus mission I can see characters having the opinion that they could see Minkowski as a mom but she and her husband both strike me as understanding themselves and one another as being more career-oriented

Kat [Yesterday at 8:44 PM]: yeah if she wanted to rise in the ranks of the military... that would probably be a strike against her

Gill [Yesterday at 8:44 PM] And the implication she's got a Complex about her parents having both left promising careers to raise her Also, Lovelace: Well I always said I could see myself settling down someday, maybe have a family if I met the right person, but when I took the job with Goddard it was legally dubious whether I could actually do that- Eiffel: Because you're an alien? Eiffel: Eiffel: ...wait a sec

Kat [Yesterday at 8:54 PM]: ha It's ok to be gay in space

Gill [Yesterday at 8:56 PM]: Alternatively it's Hera who said that bc didn't connect those dots right away, meanwhile Eiffel saw Lovelace in a flannel shirt once and Knew Immediately Eiffel may be dumb but somehow his Bi-Fi has yet to fail him

Kat [Yesterday at 8:59 PM]: Hera doesn't grasp  human sexuality nuances

Gill [Yesterday at 9:01 PM]: Funny addition to above thought: Eiffel put together that Jacobi was gay after like three days on the Urania, was the only one on the Hephaestus crew to do so, and just never felt it was relevant to bring up Hera, my child... you have much to learn (Also, Hera, probably: I'm experimenting at the moment, I'm looking for a torrent so I can download lesbianism)

Kat [Yesterday at 9:04 PM]: I don't know which option is funnier, that Jacobi is just Really Fucking Obvious but Eiffel was the only one paying attention or that it was super subtle and everyone's like How Did You Do That lovelace's righteous fury overwhelmed her gaydar, she was too mad to go 'same hat'

Gill [Yesterday at 9:07 PM]: Eiffel: I have something to confess to all of you... Jacobi: Eiffel literally not a single person on this ship is straight Eiffel: Oh I was just going to recount a PG version of my wild younger days, let's just say I know a thing or two because I've seen a thing or two.

Kat [Yesterday at 9:07 PM]: Jacobi on Earth: Just matched with myself on Grinder a-fucking-GAIN

Gill [Yesterday at 9:10 PM]: Jacobi: Oh I definitely picked up on it but who wants to go playing into stereotypes by speculating on what may or may not be a promiscuous history? Eiffel: Promiscuous? Look I've got notches in my belt but mostly I just ended up laying in somebody's bathtub at a house party while just conscious enough to nod along to someone else's relationship drama. Eiffel: to several sororities, I was the Gay Bathtub Wizard.

Kat [Yesterday at 9:11 PM]: Maxwell on day one of orientation: So if SI5 is paramilitary what's their stance on alternative lifestyles? Jacobi: I was recruited in a gay bar.

Gill [Yesterday at 9:12 PM]: Her asking the question has my brain going in several different directions

Kat [Yesterday at 9:13 PM]: I think she was recruited right after dadt was repealed... if obama exists in this universe fantasy obama

Gill [Yesterday at 9:15 PM]: One part of my brain: Maxwell is also gay Another part of my brain: Maxwell is exclusively attracted to nonhuman persons Yet another part of my brain, most adjacent to number #2: Maxwell voice, who in their right mind would build a robot that can't fuck? The 4th part of my brain: Maxwell wants to know how chill they'll be with her living exclusively off energy drinks and frozen yogurt for weeks at a time

Kat [Yesterday at 9:15 PM]: honestly I figured whatever it was it was MUCH weirder than just being gay

Gill [Yesterday at 9:15 PM]: Maxwell: I have plans to take over the world with my army of battle bots and rule as their robot queen.

Kat [Yesterday at 9:16 PM]: Maxwell: wait if you were recruited in a gay bar does that mean our boss frequents those or did he just go there to get you Jacobi: Believe me the question haunts me also Jacobi: sounds great i'm in

Gill [Yesterday at 9:16 PM]: Or, Maxwell: I am not joking for an instant when I say that I for one welcome our alien overlords "When I was 13 I tried to get myself abducted by aliens" except it's not a joke it's an actual minor headcanon of mine Also I almost typed "adopted" rather than "abducted" which shows you why Alana would probably want to do that

Kat [Yesterday at 9:19 PM]: she did say she's on bad terms with her family

Gill [Yesterday at 9:20 PM]: She grew up a pastor's kid in a tiny rural town in Montana, hearing that they don't get along is the furthest thing from a surprise to me. The surprise is that Maxwell has a restraining order against them

Kat [Yesterday at 9:21 PM]: tht implies the court found reasonable cause to issue one wack anyway i had a long day, i'm gonna call it a night

Gill [Yesterday at 9:21 PM]: o/ But yeah that Maxwell empathizes with nonhumans, apparently more than with most regular humans, that makes perfect sense to me I can see her frustration with the AI Ethics board in her last job Expressing Their Concerns and her suppressing flashbacks to many a Creationist rant, and trying to keep her eye from twitching visibly, and no I am not projecting I am just coloring in blank spaces in the narrative with my relevant life experience

[splendidlyimperfect]

Sting’s entire life changed when he was eleven years old and his best friend Rogue told a secret that he’d promised to keep. Taken away from the father who abused him and the best friend who’d tried to save him, Sting tried to start a new life with his uncle. But the trauma wasn’t easy to escape, and eventually Sting turned to drinking to forget the things that hurt.

Now he’s an adult, and he hasn’t been sober in years. But when drinking nearly kills him and a near-stranger saves his life, Sting has a chance to turn his life around, and maybe become the man that Rogue deserves to love.

Chapter Summary: Sting tries to get better, but it's easier to feel nothing at all.

Chapters (11/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel & Sting Eucliffe, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia (Fairy Tail) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

**TW for self-harm, suicidal thoughts, drinking, brief noncon/dubcon, and drug use

-----

relapse | \ ri-ˈlaps. noun : the act or an instance of backsliding, worsening, or subsiding

.

viii age seventeen

.

Sting tries, this time, he really does. The first night, Uncle Wes sits up with him on the couch, holding him close and rubbing his back while he cries. Lector doesn’t move from his lap either, and the three of them stay up until the sun is peeking in the kitchen window and Sting’s cried himself to sleep.

The next few days are a blur. Sting throws up a lot, and sweats and shakes, and feels like he’s going to die. Part of him wishes he would, because now that he’s not drunk, he has to feel all the things he’s been trying too hard to avoid.

He hates it.

“It’ll get better,” Uncle Wes says when he brings Sting crackers and tea and sits with him on the bed. “Just give it time.”

Sting makes it three weeks before he can’t handle it anymore. He’s sitting in his bedroom, staring at his phone and the twenty-seven missed texts from Ryan.

I’m sorry, babe, please come back

I miss you so much

I need you

You need me

Sting groans, clutching the phone so tightly he’s worried it will break. Part of him wants to throw it against the wall and watch it shatter into pieces, but the other part clings to it like a lifeline. No matter how hard he tries, how much he meditates or reads or sits in the sunshine with Uncle Wes, nothing changes. His mind is a mess and his chest feels empty, and he thinks maybe the part of him that knows how to be happy died a long time ago.

Continue reading on AO3

Sting drops the phone on the blanket, inhaling shakily and trying to stop the frantic racing in his mind. Everything is so goddamn loud, all the fucking time. You’re worthless, you’re stupid, people hurt you and you deserve it, you’re just like your dad and you’ll never be anything better.

He needs to make it stop.

Sting gets out of bed slowly, listening at the door of his room to make sure Uncle Wes is asleep before moving out into the hallway. The house is quiet, lit only by the cold moonlight pouring in from the front window. Sting sneaks down the stairs, avoiding the steps that squeak, and when he finally makes it out into the garage, he breathes a sigh of relief.

Uncle Wes’ tools are lined up on the bench, laid out carefully, just like everything else in his life. Neat. Orderly. Not a chaotic mess.

It doesn’t take long for Sting to find the box cutter, and he takes it with shaking hands, sinking down to the floor and flicking it open. The blade glints in the dim light of the garage and he stares at it for several seconds before pressing it to the skin of his forearm.

It’s like exhaling. The sharp bite of the blade pulls all the panic down to one place, a manageable, physical pain that Sting can handle. The racing thoughts fade away, cleared by another sharp burst of pain, and another, and another.

When Sting finally comes back to himself, his forearm is covered with blood, but he can’t feel anything. He exhales, closing the blade and shoving it in his back pocket before pushing himself shakily to his feet and grabbing a towel from the workbench to press against his arm. Then he staggers back to the door, opening it as quietly as possible and heading to the bathroom to find the first aid kit.

When he finally makes it back upstairs, Lector is in his bed, curled up on his pillow and purring contentedly. Sting sits down carefully beside him and Lector mrowls, opening one eye and tipping his head up against Sting’s fingers.

“I’m sorry,” Sting says softly. “I needed it.”

Maybe he can do this instead of drinking, and he won’t hurt anybody but himself. 

~

Two weeks later, Sting takes a drink again. He’s walking to the bus stop after therapy and feeling like shit because all the therapist wants to talk about is Ryan.

He took advantage of you. He coerced you. It’s not a healthy relationship. He’s dangerous.

“I know that,” Sting hisses, gritting his teeth and kicking at an empty bottle on the side of the road. It hits the edge of a bicycle rack and part of it shatters, leaving behind sharp edges that Sting’s tempted to use. He sighs, rubbing his face. “I know that, but I said yes.”

Thinking about sex with Ryan makes him feel like throwing up, and he swallows down the sensation, walking quickly away from the broken glass. It’s only when he gets to the end of the street that he realizes he’s standing outside a liquor store.

He stops, staring in the window and reaching into his pocket to feel for his wallet. His fake ID is still in there – can’t even remember who made it, Ryan probably, but it’s a good one. Besides, Sting looks older than he is, and in a year, he won’t even need it.

Uncle Wes’ voice echoes through Sting’s mind. You’re doing so well, I’m proud of you. But he doesn’t know about the marks on Sting’s forearms or the blades he’s got hidden in his drawers. Sting isn’t better. He’s just hurting himself differently.

He gives in.

~

The look of hurt and concern on Uncle Wes’ face when Sting comes home drunk feels worse than the cuts on his arms. Sting stumbles up the front steps and when he pushes open the door, he knows he can’t hide it. Lector trots over to him and rubs against his legs, meowing happily, and Sting’s cheeks burn.

“’m sorry,” he says softly.

“It’s okay,” Uncle Wes says gently, standing from the kitchen table and moving closer. Sting shakes his head and takes a step back.

“’s not,” he slurs, rubbing his face. He’s having trouble standing. “D’no why you fuckin’… care, why… why…”

“Because I love you,” Uncle Wes replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He takes Sting’s arm and guides him inside, then helps him up the stairs into his room. “I’m not angry,” he says, and Sting wishes he would be.

“Jus’ be… be mad,” he begs, dropping his head into his hands. He doesn’t understand. “I can’t… jus’ fuckin’ hit me.”

“Sting,” Uncle Wes says, voice both soft and reproachful. “I would never hurt you.”

“You should.”

“No. Never.”

Then I’ll just have to hurt myself, Sting thinks, blinking as the room starts to go out of focus. “Go ‘way,” he mumbles.

Uncle Wes sighs. “Why don’t you sleep this off,” he suggests. “We can talk in the morning.”

Sting flops back on the bed and rolls away from Uncle Wes, digging his fingernails into his palm as he stares at the wall. Eventually Uncle Wes stands and says, “I love you,” one more time before heading out of the room and closing the door behind him.

“Why?” Sting whispers, biting back the urge to throw up. He’s too exhausted to even cry, so he lays there, staring at the ceiling and wishing he were dead.

~

The next morning Sting’s head is pounding, and he stumbles to the stop of the stairs, stopping when he hears Uncle Wes talking to someone.

“He’s getting worse,” Uncle Wes says, and when there’s no answer, Sting realizes he’s on the phone. “I’m not sure what else to do.”

Sting bites down on his tongue as guilt swells in his chest. He’s too much. He’ll always be too much.

“I don’t know if I can convince him to go to rehab,” Uncle Wes says quietly, and Sting can hear the frustration in his voice. “He needs more help, but he won’t accept it. He’s as stubborn as—”

Sting runs back to his room before Uncle Wes can finish the sentence because Sting knows exactly what he was going to say. He’s as stubborn as his father.

He’s exactly like the only person he never wanted to become.

“Fuck,” Sting whispers. He can’t do this. Not to Uncle Wes, who’s too kind for someone like Sting. He doesn’t deserve to spend his days looking after someone who can’t fucking function. Someone who breaks everything he touches.

Lector pads into the room and meows at Sting, then hops up on the bed and headbutts him. Sting covers his mouth to stifle a sob as he runs his fingers through Lector’s fur.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Uncle Wes will take care of you, I promise.”

Sting’s hands shake as he grabs some clothing and shoves it into his backpack, then scribbles a note and sets it on the desk.

I’m sorry I can’t be better. Please take care of Lector. Thank you for trying to help me – none of this is your fault and I know you tried your best. I love you.

He stares at the words for a long, long time before pulling on his backpack and climbing out the window, then disappearing down the street toward the bus station.

~

Sting ends up back at Ryan’s because he has nowhere else to go. The mix of relief and satisfaction on Ryan’s face when he opens the door makes Sting feel sick, but Ryan is quick to take him back.

“I missed you so much, baby,” he murmurs, squeezing Sting’s arm and pulling him in for a kiss. He tastes like ashes. “C’mon. I’m happy you’re home.”

This isn’t home, Sting thinks, gaze dull as he crosses through the kitchen and into Ryan’s bedroom where he drops his backpack on the floor. Everything is dark and run-down, cardboard taped over the windows, empty beer bottles sitting on the bedside table.

“You look so tense,” Ryan says, sitting on the bed and pulling Sting down with him. “You okay?” Sting shrugs and Ryan sighs, squeezing his hand. “C’mere, baby. Lemme help.”

When Ryan’s hands find their way to the button of Sting’s jeans, he doesn’t say no.

Afterward, when Ryan falls asleep, Sting stumbles out of bed and into the washroom, trying to ignore the churning in his stomach and the aching discomfort between his legs. The boy in the mirror is a pathetic stranger, and when Sting sees the red marks on his neck and shoulders, he falls to his knees and throws up in the toilet.

It feels like hours later when he finally pushes himself to his feet. He can’t feel his hands and it takes him a few tries to turn the tap on and rinse his mouth out. Then he wobbles back toward the bed, sitting down heavily on the edge of the mattress and staring at Ryan’s back.

Something starts buzzing and it takes Sting a few seconds to realize it’s his phone. He fumbles around for it, eventually finding it in the pile of clothes on the floor next to the mattress. He stares at the screen for several seconds until the name Uncle Wes comes into focus and Sting immediately declines the call.

Uncle Wes 17 missed calls 27 messages

Sting groans, tossing the phone back to the floor. Why Uncle Wes gives a shit is beyond him. He’s done everything he can to try to help Sting, but there’s no point. Sting’s broken and the pieces don’t fit together anymore, and it’s just better when he can’t feel.

His gaze moves to the bedside table and the bottle of small, pink pills that sit next to the broken lamp. Sting recognizes them – he’s taken them before, from one of Ryan’s friends that Sting can’t remember. They had made him soft and sleepy and not quite real.

He grabs the bottle and tips a couple of the pills into his hand, staring at them and trying to push away the overwhelming sense of hopelessness. It’s suffocating; he can’t breathe, can’t move, can’t do anything because his arms are heavy and he’s not worth anything at all.

Before he can change his mind, he swallows both pills dry. Then he drops his head into his hands, hoping that they kick in soon, because he doesn’t want to feel anything anymore.  

[tisfan]

Moving Violations

Square: G5 - Carjacking Title: Moving Violations Warning: None Rating: Teen Characters: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Tags: kidnapping, carjacking, car chases, car crash Summary: This evening was not going according to plan. Now he was going to have to call the god damned police and file a fucking report and then call his insurance and file another report, and then he was going to have to call Pepper and-- Link: A03 Word Count:  2,545 Posted for @winterironbingo *also include relationship if not just winteriron

The conference was over, finally. Tony dragged his suitcase out to the car garage. He would have had the concierge do it, but it was late, the bellhops were all busy, and Tony didn’t want to wait. He wanted to get in his car, stop somewhere for an extra triple large coffee, a donut the size of his head, and get the hell out of Dodge. Or New Jersey, honestly, which was worse, and there he was anyway.

He popped the trunk, pushed his suitcase into the back, and was just straightening up when someone pushed a hard, metal thing against his back. “Gimme the keys, motherfucker, and don’t try anything funny.”

God damn it. This was not what he’d had in mind, checking out of the hotel immediately after the conference instead of waiting until morning, like everyone else. Suppressing a sigh, Tony slowly lifted his hands, letting the keys dangle.

Now he was going to have to call the god damned police and file a fucking report and then call his insurance and file another report, and then he was going to have to call Pepper and--

The car thief snagged the key fob, then shoved, pushing Tony forward into the trunk. The locking mechanism scraped against his midsection, tearing his shirt and bruising his skin. “Get it--”

There was a second man, a black ski mask pulled down to hide his face. He reached into the trunk and cut the safety cable that unlocked the trunk from the inside.

“Get in,” the first guy said, prodding Tony with the -- gun, probably -- metal thing in his back, giving him a matched bruise.

There was not a lot of room in the trunk, with the spare tire, his suitcase, and it being a sports model and not some soccer mom’s SUV.

This... was even worse. And just when Tony thought it couldn’t get any worse, Ski Mask reached in and groped at Tony’s clothes, what the fuck. “Hey, fuck you, what the--” Ski Mask shoved at Tony’s face, making him crack his head on the back of the tiny space, and came up with Tony’s phone. “Damn it, give me that!” The guy tossed it onto the floor of the parking garage with a snort, and then slammed the trunk shut, narrowly missing another crack on Tony’s head.

“Come on,” the first guy said, rushing around to the driver’s side. “Three more minutes until the window closes.”

“Not getting paid enough for this job,” Ski Mask said, but he was also getting in the car. The doors slammed, the car jerked into reverse and skidded out of the parking lot. Whoever was driving was good, Tony noted, shifting gears precisely, and handling the car well. At least, he wasn’t getting slammed around inside the tiny space.

(more under the cut)

Just to make sure, he tried pulling on the release lever, but it did nothing. Tony felt around, trying to get an idea for what was available. He found a screwdriver in his jacket pocket, and a pair of wire cutters. He couldn’t reach his pants pocket, cramped as it was, but since they’d tossed his phone, he didn’t think there was anything useful in there, anyway. A bunch of business cards, some conference swag -- pens, fidget toys, a couple of novelty condoms.

He felt around in front of him. Trunk, liner carpet-- oh! The tail light. He could... he could work with that, probably. He felt around for the screws holding it in place.

It was all kinds of awkward, trying to maneuver his arm into position to work the screwdriver, but he managed to get the cover off. He felt for the wires. There should be... yes, there. They were mounted into place, but a couple of snips with the cutters took care of that.

Now, he could make the tail light do what he wanted. He listened for a moment -- wherever they were taking him, it was on some kind of highway. Good. He tapped the wires together, carefully, making the light blink. Short-short-short-long-long-long-short-short-short. Pause. Short-short-short-long-long-long-short-short-short. Not many people knew Morse code anymore, but SOS was still pretty universal. Hopefully someone would notice and call them in.

Night driving wasn’t one of Bucky’s favorite things. Drivers tended to ignore motorcyclists with almost aggressive tenacity even during the day, and night was worse. He’d just missed being hit with a car that had rolled up behind him, swerved around, and then pulled back in the lane without adequate clearance.

Crazy, early drunk, Bucky decided. He dropped his speed again, letting some room get between him and the car.

Idiot left his blinker on, too, continually flashing.

Bucky rolled his eyes, and--

Wait, what? The tail light was blinking, rhythmically, and not in the simple click-click that most turn signals did. Bucky’d seen a few kits in his day, that made the tail-lights do an almost marquee scroll, which was really distracting late at night, but this wasn’t doing that, either.

Might be a short; it wasn’t any of Bucky’s business anyway. If the guy got pulled over for a burned out taillight, so much the better.

The light went dead for a moment, then started up again. The other rear light stayed steady, the whole time.

Flick, flick, flick. Flash, flash, flash.

What? Something nagged at him for a moment, and he lost the car as it wove around a tractor trailer. Bucky opened the throttle, speeding up.

SOS? Couldn’t possibly be. He only knew Morse Code because he watched entirely too many old war movies with his buddy Steve.

He pulled in behind the car again, watching, counting.

Yeah, that was… that had to be deliberate.

Bucky considered pulling over and calling 9-11 on his phone, when the car changed lanes twice. Bucky had to speed up to keep it in sight, and then it was headed off one of the exits, one of the complicated things that had two side paths, plus a jughandle. If he didn’t keep his eye on the car, he wouldn’t know where it went. Who even knew if the cops would take the story seriously?

Bucky followed them off the interstate.

“If this is someone’s idea of a prank,” Bucky muttered, “I am never gonna try bein’ a good samaritan again.”

Not that he had a plan. He was on a motorcycle, for fuck’s sake. It’s not like he could clip them and make them stop without practically killing himself in the process.

The tail lights flickered a few more times, then stopped, as if the person -- if it was a person -- was getting tired.  

At least there were traffic lights now. The car would have to slow down. Bucky grumbled, then decided to risk it. He took the next right hand turn, then an immediate left, slipping around traffic, taking advantage of his smaller vehicle and probably making all sorts of moving violations, but he managed to get ahead of them.

“Oh, this is so stupid,” he told himself, but as he came up on the car from the side, he slowed down, aimed the bike, and jumped off, letting the motorcycle smash into the passenger side door.

Inside the car, the passenger-side airbag exploded. The car swerved sharply and went into a spin, smashing into the guardrail. When it finally came to a stop, one tire was flat, and the bumper and whole side of the car had been liberally crumpled.

The driver’s side door opened, and a man floundered out of the car. “What the fuck!” he demanded. “What the--” He spotted Bucky, and his lip curled into a snarl. “What the absolute fuck, you asshole!”

Bucky’s sharp gaze raked the man, taking in dark clothes, aggression, and-- a gun holstered under one arm. Fuck, this was such a bad idea.

He staggered, letting his body pull him at a rolling gate. Playing drunk. “Dude, where’d you--” he acted like he couldn’t find his helmet’s strap, struggling with it. “Saw th’ car in front of you, and the car behind you, but not you…” He got the helmet off, still closing the distance. “What the hell’d you do to my bike?”

Two more steps, and Bucky threw the helmet at the guy, smashing him in the face with the fiberglass, hand automatically reaching, and-- grabbed the gun. “Don’t fucking move, asshole,” he yelled, putting the barrel right over the guy’s bloody nose.

The guy’s eyes went big and round in shock. “What-- Okay, man, okay, Jesus fuck, what the fuck am I going to do now?”

“Dude, tell your friend that he cannot possibly shoot me before I shoot you,” Bucky advised, stepping to one side and keeping the first guy between himself and the passenger. “He looks a little banged up to me, he’s likely to shoot you in the back before he gets one off on me.”

“What are you, some kind of cop?” the guy demanded, but he waved at his buddy, who was still trying to get untangled from the airbag enough to turn around and draw a bead on Bucky.

“Cops wish they were as cool as I am,” Bucky said. “Have him pop the trunk.” He hoped it wasn’t too damaged to work, and that whoever was inside it was okay. He really had not thought this through at all. Provided he lived through it, though, it was going to make a great story to tell Steve and Sam.

Slowly, with much cursing and complaining, the other guy managed to find the lever to pop the trunk.

“Hey pal, you okay in there?” Bucky tried to look over the driver’s shoulder to see what was actually in the damn trunk.

“I’ve been better,” said a voice. There was some more cursing and several pained grunts, and then a man unfolded from behind the driver, climbing laboriously out of the car’s trunk.

“If you can walk, there’s a whole ton of zip ties in my cycle’s saddlebag. And then I’ll call the cops?” He shifted the gun again, aiming at the guy’s knee. “Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to kill you, but my moral code’s a little wobbly on the subject of kneecaps.”

The victim looked around and then stumbled his way over to Bucky’s bike, rummaging in the bags and then coming back with the zipties. “Should I even ask why you have-- oh shit, you’re hot.” He froze, staring at Bucky.

Bucky spluttered. That was not at all what he’d expected. “I’m an electrician,” Bucky explained. “And I had a bunch of cable-wraps to do today. Come on, Dude in Distress, let’s zip these fuckers up before someone decides to try me. This is my favorite jacket, I do not want blood on it.”

The guy shook himself back into motion. “Right, right. Sorry.” He walked around behind the driver and started zip-tying the guys’ wrists. “It’s been a long week, and I’m dealing with an adrenaline dump; my filters are pretty much gone.”

Bucky stepped away, once they were both ziptied and on the ground, swearing and cursing, but probably not going anywhere. “Jesus,” he said, then lowered the gun and flicked the safety on. “Not how I intended to spend Friday night-- oh, crap, look at my bike!” Bucky’s voice spiraled up, the victim wasn’t the only guy who was dealing with a sudden flush of hormones. He wobbled back another few steps, shaking from head to toe.

“Whoa, hey, relax, it’s going to be okay,” the victim said. He reached out a tentative hand and gingerly patted Bucky’s shoulder, then again with more confidence when Bucky didn’t immediately throw him off. “I will absolutely make sure it gets fixed. Or replaced. Whatever’s easiest.” He looked around. “What did you do, drive right into the side of the car?”

“Basically, yeah,” Bucky said. He reached for his phone, tapping the Emergency Call button. “You need an ambulance-- what’s your name? I’m Bucky.”

“Tony,” the guy said. He prodded carefully at his face and arm and one leg. “I think it’s all superficial,” he said. “Just... cops.”

“Right, okay,” Bucky said, and when the phone chirped, with the “911, what is the nature of your emergency,” Bucky gave almost no details. “There’s been a… attempted kidnapping and car accident--” he peered at the street signs and gave an address.

“Sir, can you stay on the--” Bucky hung up. They’d both get grilled at the station, or the hospital, if medics decided they needed treatment anyway.

“Tell me you’re not some sort of swag drug dealer or something in a meet up gone bad,” Bucky said. “I’d really like to be the good guy, here.”

“Uh, yeah, I think we can safely say you’re the good guy,” Tony agreed. “I haven’t done drugs since college and I’ve never dealt. I don’t know what these two were after, but it wasn’t, you know, revenge for my nefarious and criminal ways. Hey, can I borrow your phone for a sec?”

Bucky handed it over, looking at the guy. He was dressed in a suit that had probably been nice before he’d been shoved in the trunk of a car, with tousled brown hair and a perfectly shaped beard. If Bucky had to say he had a type, Tony would have checked off a lot of boxes.

Tony dialed the phone. “Pep? What, no, I’m not-- It was fine, but I-- Pep! Code ninety-nine! ...Thank you. Yes. No, I’m fine. Mostly. Well, they jumped me in the garage and stuffed me in the trunk but the hottest guy in New Jersey managed to make them crash the car and-- No, I’m serious. The police are on the way; I need you to scramble the team. Yeah. Yes, really, I’m fine. Yeah. I’ll call after the police. I know, I know, you don’t have to-- Yeah, okay, I know.” He hung up without saying goodbye and handed the phone back to Bucky. “Thanks. My assistant,” he explained. “She likes to be kept up to date on my schedule.”

Bucky snorted. “So, this is, what, like someone’s extra meeting?” He saw light flashing in the distance, the wail of sirens getting closer. Very carefully, he took the gun out of his jacket pocket and put it on the pavement. “This is gonna be a very long evening,” he told Tony. Although given that he had a code for being kidnapped that his secretary knew, he was probably used to it. “Don’t suppose I can buy you a shitty cup of coffee after it’s done, or something?”

Tony looked at Bucky again, startled. “Wait, really? No, don’t answer that, you made the offer; no takebacks. Yes. You can buy me coffee. I’ll buy the doughnuts.”

“Square deal,” Bucky said, giving Tony a wide grin. “If I get out of this with less than a dozen moving violations, shitty coffee is gonna be all I can afford. By the way-- the Morse Code? That was clever. I was following them for like ten miles.”

Tony grinned back, offering Bucky a hand. “Thanks. And... Thanks.”

“I’d say anytime, but I’d rather you not make a habit of getting carjacked.”

“I dunno,” Tony said, giving Bucky an obvious once-over. “It might have been worth it.”

[past-the-blood-and-bruise]

okay MAJOR spoilers for the new sanders sides video (dealing with intrusive thoughts)

i have a lot of thoughts on what i just watched and i need to talk about that entire episode asap or else i’ll never be able to fall asleep ever again at all, i swear to fucking god.

ALSO REMEMBER TO TAG YOUR SPOILERS PEOPLE.  NOT EVERYONE IS CRAZY ENOUGH TO STAY UP THIS LATE TO WATCH THE VIDEO.

I AM SO FUCKING SHOOK WE HAVE A NEW GODDAMN SIDE EVERYONE HE IS GREEN AND HE REPRESENTS INTRUSIVE THOUGHTS AND HOLY SHIT WHY IS HE SO ACCURATE

alright so.  as soon as the video started i knew something was up.  i could just TELL.  nothing in the series has felt right since the dark sides started showing up but this was a different level.  

this is the least put-together thomas has ever looked in a sanders sides video.  even in the excepting anxiety vid, he still looked okay, but in this, he just looked so damn defeated that it honestly hurt my heart, and i know it was probably makeup and acting, but still.

given that there was going to be a content warning for this video, i think a lot of people (including me) assumed there would be discussion of mental health issues.  personally i was a little worried that there would be mention of suicidal thoughts or self-harm, because both of those can be triggering for me and i really wanted to watch the video without having a panic attack.  luckily nothing specifically related to those was mentioned, although those can be forms of intrusive thoughts so who knows.  given what we saw in the video, most of the intrusive thoughts seem to have been violent toward close friends/family members, or just plain weird (did the duke seriously say “unicorn porn?”  i swear to god, this series will be the death of me).  

and honestly, at least for me, that video got a lot of things right.  intrusive thoughts can be really frightening and definitely bothersome most of the time, but they’re often things i would never want to act on, so they end up being more of a passing nuisance than anything else.  although it is a little bit scary that every time i put my family’s pizza cutter away, all i can think about is cutting my hand off - but ANYWAY.  that’s not the point.

intrusive thoughts really only have power if you give them power and this video did a fantastic job of illustrating that.

now let’s talk about our four main sides.

i was surprised that roman was given a bit of a backseat once again.  i haven’t watched much of the series lately, but from what i can remember, he seems to be the least-developed character so far.  there’s not much to say about him since he was hardly in the video.

then you’ve got logan.  he’s actually becoming surprisingly less formal, and oddly enough, he really has been less strict than patton recently.  it’s hard for me to reconcile the way he was acting in this video with the way i’ve perceived him in all of the others, but maybe part of that is because he was really the only person in that discussion that was saying anything useful about the issue.

next, i want to talk about patton.

patton is...he’s been turning into something else.  he makes me uneasy, uncomfortable to watch and to listen to.  while many of the other characters are growing away from their initially assigned traits as the series continues, patton seems to be molding into the perfect model of his, as morality.  something is going on with him.  he went from this complex, three-dimensional character to strictly thomas’s sense of morality.  he refuses to see others’ sides of the story, and he believes that he knows what is right and wrong and he seems to see the world in an incredibly black-and-white manner.  it’s kind of disturbing, honestly, and it seems that the more of the dark sides we see, the stricter patton is in sticking to his role.  maybe it’s his way of trying to maintain order amidst the growing chaos, as thomas is finding out that his mind may not be as pure of a place as it once seemed.  but no matter what is happening, patton really seems like more of a bad person than either of the current dark sides that we’ve seen, because in trying to get thomas to do what he perceives as the “right” thing, he completely disregards every other aspect of the decision.

i’ve seen concepts here on tumblr for “corrupted” sides, and that almost seems to be what’s happening to patton.  he’s corrupted in the way that he’s seeing an idea of right and wrong and which choices to make in which situations that just isn’t correct in the world we live in.  everything in life is made up of gray.  sometimes it’s leaning closer to black, sometimes to white, but it’s rare (if not impossible) for something to be entirely black and white.  there are always pros and cons to any decision, but patton is so lost in this idea of right and wrong that he can’t see that anymore, and it’s a little bit terrifying.

and last but certainly not least, let’s talk about virgil.

with the appearance of deceit and remus, they’ve been building up to something.  that much has been clear.  and i believe that many of us have found the same conclusion - that virgil was once one of the dark sides.

in this episode, we were proven to be correct, and then nothing more was said on the matter.

virgil seems to blame himself for the fact that any of the current dark sides are there at all.  my theory is that he knows things about the different dark sides, things that he thought would let him stop them from ever making it as far as they have, and now that he’s told thomas that he used to be a dark side, maybe we’ll get to hear some of that information and a little bit more of virgil’s backstory.

we don’t know much about any side’s backstory other than a vague shape of their lives, and it seems that virgil’s is more complicated than most, so what exactly happened?  what was his life like as one of the dark sides?  what sort of relationship or connection did he have with each of the others?  how did he get out so much sooner than deceit or remus?

if anything, virgil’s revelation, despite being an answer we’ve been waiting for, only raises more and more questions.  i look forward to them being answered, but i’m also scared.  when i first joined this fandom, we hadn’t even seen deceit yet.  we didn’t know there were sides other than virgil, roman, patton, and logan.  but since deceit’s reveal, this series has been changing into something deeper, darker, and it’s both scary and fascinating at the same time.  the videos get tenser and more serious, with a more intricate plot the further we go, and at this point i don’t think we can go back to how things were before - although i do find that these videos are helping me to learn more serious, difficult truths about myself as they go on.

all we can do now is hold on for the ride.

    -nico.

@thatsthat24 @thejoanglebook

[hazyheel]

Impact Wrestling 9/20/19 Review

This is my first impact review in a while, so I’m glad I caught LAX’s going away show. They are a great team and will always be extremely important to this company. I’m happy to see their work be acknowledged as they move on to AEW. Other than that, the show was kinda boring, but there were some fun segments here and there. I love Impact’s way of putting the packages together, they are quite fun. Here is my review of this week’s Impact.

LAX Video Package:  It was a pretty simple tribute package that recapped what they have done in the tag division. It was touching and nice. They showed some highlights of their career throughout the night. 

OvE vs. Tessa Blanchard, Rob Van Dam, Rhino and Tommy Dreamer in Street Fight: Everyone immediately started to brawl when they got in the ring, with Van Dam and Sami Callihan brawling in the ring. Van Dam hit some of his signature offense and the two rolled to the outside. Blanchard and Dave Crist fought then, with Blanchard hitting a lungblower in the corner and then a suicide dive. Jake Crist started to fight Dreamer, but Dreamer caught him and hit a powerslam. Madman Fulton then kicked Dreamer out of the ring and started to go strike for strike with Rhino. Jake Crist then helped to take Rhino down, before Fulton launched him out of the ring in a tope con hilo. Dreamer then climbed to the top rope and gave the whole crowd of competitors a nervous splash. RVD followed suit, which just left Blanchard and Callihan in the ring together. Blanchard then took him down quickly, nailing a cutter to put him on the outside, and then climbing to the tope rope. Callihan met her up there and superplexed her onto a pile of competitors on the outside. Calliahn then rolled Rhino back in, and the two traded suplexes and spinebusters, with Rhino coming out on top. Jake took him out with a series of kicks, Dreamer took out jake with a bionic elbow, Dave took out Dreamer with a clothesline, RVD nailed him with a huge kick, before Fulton ran in and nailed a tilt a whirl flatliner, but Blanchard broke it up. Fulton started to fight Blanchard, with the knockout coming out on top, but they quickly took her back down with an elevated cutter from Fulton and Jake. Dreamer then introduced a kendo stick and cleared the ring, before setting up a table in the corner. Before Rhino and Dreamer could put Jake through it, Callihan gave them both a low blow, and tried to put Dreamer through the table, but Dreamer countered with a groin claw. Jake then nailed Dreamer with a superkick, only to get caught with a gore through the table. RVD then nailed a frog splash, and Blanchard locked in a crossface with a kendo stick to make Jake tap out.

Grade: B-. This was non stop action. Everyone was flying around the ring, hitting bit moves and it was fun. It didn’t quite get into B territory, but it was still very enjoyable. OvE are awesome, as is Blanchard, so I’m not surprised they put on a fun match. The ECW guys also put on a good show, and even though they just sorta hit their big moves, that was enough. Fun stuff. 

Ace Austin and Alisha Edwards backstage: Austin told Alisha Edwards that we would be with her no matter what, and that he’d always be there for her. Then he asked where Eddie was, and she didn’t know. She then walked away, with Austin looked knowingly into the camera. Fun times. 

The North Backstage: The two said they were celebrating LAX leaving Impact. They said that it was a party, and forced Josh Alexander to wear a hat, much to his dismay. They said they were gonna have a fiesta, and left to party. I dunno if that is in their character, but it seemed dumb to me. 

Alisha Edwards vs. Taya Valkyrie: They started things off with some trash talk, but Valkyrie quickly threw Edwards to the mat and started to pound on her. It wasn’t long into the match when a doctor pushed Austin out to the ring to watch the match. Valkyrie constantly tried to score the pin, over and over again, looking almost desperate. Edwards fought back, nailing a corner dropkick, a ripcord lariat, and a flatliner, but Johnny Bravo pulled Edwards out of the ring. Austin then stood right up out of the wheelchair, and hit a a shining wizard on the apron to take Bravo out of the match, before quickly getting back into the chair and putting the sling back on. As he did, Valkyrie nailed her finish and got the win. 

Grade: C-. Yeah, you know the match and story is bad when the only highlight that is shown is of a brawl at ringside. Valkyrie looked good at times, but this was largely nothing special. 

The North Backstage again: They went around putting hats on people, just being annoying and dicks. They were good at it though. They confronted Rhino and RVD, but Rhino ripped their pinata apart, and they walked away. RVD said that he liked to party, and Rhino just said he wanted the fucking candy. This wasn’t good, although they are charasmatic enough to make it watchable. 

Shera vs. Cody Deaner: The Desi Hit Squad and jake were in their respective corners. Shera quickly just threw Cody all over the ring. Cody tried to fight back with some strikes, and even gave the rest of the Desi hit squad a suicide dive. Cody then hung Shera up on the top rope, and went for a splash, but Shera caught him and nailed a chokeslam. Shera then picked Cody up and hit a slam for the win.

Grade: C+. Squizzity squizzity squash.

The Rascalz vs. Arez, Australian Suicide and Toxin: The match started quickly when every member of the rascalz nailed moonsaults and then triple suicide dives on the luchadores. Trey started things out against, but Toxin quickly came in to nail a brainbuster. Dez then ran in for a bulldog and a senton, only for Arez to hit a titl a whirl backbreaker. Wentz then ran in for a corkscrew senton, but Suicide nailed him with some amazing flying moves. Arez then hit a suicide dive, Toxin went for a suicide moonsault, but the Rasclz caught him, only for Suicide to hit a shooting star press to the outisde.  Everyone started to scramble in and hit big moves, and the Rasclaz hit the pushed moonsault for the win. 

Grade: C+. Lots of quick moves and high spots, but they went too fast to really appreciate it. You never knew who to look at or who to follow, and they didn’t give the match long enough to develop. But the right guys won and looked good doing it. I didn’t get much of a sense for the luchadores, because I haven’t seen them before and they weren’t talked about enough to really stand out. They looked fine though. Just not enough substance for me. 

Moose segment: He talked a whole bunch of crap to Ken Shamrock. He was mostly walking around and trying to get shot inMexico city.Then he just attacked three dudes on the street. He said he was the world’s most dangerous man, and stood tall over three random dudes. 

Brian Cage Bachelor Party teaser: Rich Swann, Tommy Dreamer and Brian Cage said that they were going to cheat tonight. How fun. They cut away before anything happened, so I don’t think that this was the actual segment. 

Tenille Dashwood Interview: She said that she hadn’t fought many of the knockouts, so she showed up to do so. She said that she really wanted to fight Madison Rayne, Tessa Blanchard and Taya Valkyrie. She said that she wanted to make sure the spotlight is on her, and will do so by taking the opportunities that were so held back from her. 

Jessica Havok vs. Su Yung in a No Disqualification match: Havok attacked Su Yung during the entrance, and started to run her around into the apron and the barricade. Havok quickly tried to go for the staple gun, but Su Yung bit her hand and started to shower Havok with kicks and knees for a near fall. The two fought back to the outside, with Havok getting control right back. At one point, we saw Yung walk along be barricade, but Havok pulled her off and into the barricade as well. Havok then introduced a ladder, which Yung set up in the corner, before nailing a hangman’s pedigree for a near fall. Yung then ran Havok into a chair in the corner, before stapling her leg and chest with a staple gun, followed by a somersault senton. Yung then donned the bloody glove, but Havok fought back with a trio of kicks to the face. Havok then picked Yung up and hit the tombstone. 

After the match, Yung gave Havok the mandible claw, before throwing her into the ladder and dropping it on Havoks head. Yung grabbed another chair that she threw into Havok’s face. Back on the outside, Havok pushed Yung to the top of the ramp, and they exchanged forearms, before spilling into the back and continuing the brawl. They smashed each other’s faces into the walls and stairs and stuff, and fought up some of the stairs, where Havok hung Yung.

Grade: D+. Bad. Very slow. The stuff after actually kinda improved it for me, even though it was kinda dumb. The match sucked though, Havok didn’t impress me at all and I’m pretty sure Su Yung can do better. Just bad and disappointing. Also, someone got hung! And I thought Lucha Underground got cancelled. 

Bachelor and Bachelorette parties: Valkyrie poured herself a drink and was being loud and annoying. She toasted herself, but the rest of the group toasted Melissa. Then Joey Ryan showed up as a policeman stripper and danced around. He poured champaign all over himself and gave Melissa a lap dance. At the Bachelor party, Swann, Cage and Dreamer made a bunch of sex jokes, but turns out that the cheating was cheating on his diet. Har dee har.

Johnny Swinger package: a guy walked around a city sounding like a douchebag. I guess that he is debuting next week. 

Willie Mack & Rich Swann vs. LAX: The match started out with a respectful handshake, and everyone just soaked in the crowd for a bit. Santana and Swann started things out with some fast paced mat wrestling, with each guy making an awesome escape and cartwheeling out of ranas. The two wrestled for a long time, going counter for counter until Santana tackled Swann into the LAX corner and gave Ortiz the tag in. Swann then rolled back into his corner and tagged in Mack, who took on Ortiz. Mack then took chop after chop from LAX in the corner, and actually go a cool spear and lariat combo on Ortiz after escaping. Mack then picked up the speed and took out Ortiz with a tackle, samoan drop and a moonsault for a near fall. Mack and Swann continued to beat down Ortiz, who only fought back a bit as they fought. Ortiz nearly got a hot tag after a huge lariat to Swann, but Mack tagged in and took Santana off the apron. Ortiz then gave Mack a huge DDT, and Santana got the hot tag. Lax then went through a whole complicated sequence before giving Swann a neckbreaker on the knee. Santana then went to the top, but Mack caught him and Swann gave him a crucifix neckbreaker for a near fall. Everyone was in the ring and hit huge moves one after another, leaving everyone down. LAX then hit a huge combo, a powerbomb from Ortiz and then a powerbomb onto Ortiz’s knees from Santana, but Mack broke it up. LAX were going to go for their finish, but Swann got an ensiguri and then a rana off the top, followed by a huge frog splash from Mack for a super close near fall. Santana then desperately fought off both men with slaps, only for Mack and Swann to hit double superkicks. They then showered Santana with kicks, taking him down with a handspring cutter, a stunner, a 450 and the frog splash for the win. 

After the match, everyone came out to the ring and gave Ortiz and Santana hugs. Konan got his fair share of hugs too. It was emotional, and they were treated like the legends and heroes that they are. Congratulations, Ortiz and Santana. Go on to bigger things, and kill it in the mainstream crowd. You will always be remembered as some of the guys who put impact on the map during these years. Good luck and Godspeed. 

Grade: B+. This was the sendoff that LAX deserved. The closing stretch was actually awesome, and this tag match was a great way to send the champs off. Swann and Mack were exciting babyfaces that looked great in the ring with them, and they put on a really good main event that was so fast paced I could hardly keep up. Of course, LAX went out on their back and that is the right way to go. They lost a really good match, and the sendoff afterwards was emotional and good. Match of the night. 

Su Yung in the hospital: Su Yung died in the hospital, but then she sat up. They seriously ended on this rather than the heartwarming shots of LAX leaving the company? Ugh. 

Overall Grade: C

Pros: main event

Cons: edwards vs. valkyrie; no dq match

[fourohfourrealitynotfound]

Rear View Mirror

“When Eva told Dylan about her plan to take a two-day car ride to go off to college, they asked to tag along and make it a road trip.”

For the rest of her life, Eva kept this trip a secret. She never told anyone for fear that they would look at her in a different way when she explained how it ended.

-

TW Suicide, emotional abuse, and food are all mentioned in this short story. There’s also a moment where a non-binary character is deadnamed, but the deadname is written as a dash.

If you are going through suicidal thoughts, emotional abuse, or an eating disorder, please Google the appropriate hotline or support service. I and many others care about you, and we want you to get the help you need. Your life matters.

-

Read below the cut or on Wattpad.

When Eva told Dylan about her plan to take a two-day car ride to go off to college, they asked to tag along and make it a road trip.

The best friends had known each other for the better part of three years, but they never met in person. Eva vaguely remembered some Tumblr post about rubber ducks with knives that lead Dylan becoming her mutual. They eventually started messaging and then Skyping as they became friends. Eva was proud to include Dylan on her list of most reliable friends.

She didn’t know too much about their personal problems. She knew that their home life wasn’t the greatest, and that their parents were rather unsupportive and borderline emotionally abusive. Eva may not have known the full extent of the situation, but she was definitely happy that her best friend was getting out of there.

Dylan barely had to ask before Eva agreed to drive road trip with them. Secretly, she had been hoping that they would ask. What’s a better way to become closer friends than to be stuck in a moving vehicle with them for two days? So, when they asked to ride with her, she enthusiastically agreed.

-

Dylan’s house wasn’t in shambles, but it wasn’t a mansion, either. They lived in a neighborhood where all the houses were the same cookie-cutter box in different colors. The driveway lead to a one-car garage, and there was even a small front yard. Across the street, some little kids played with chalk and balls and scooters. The area was rather pleasant, in Eva’s opinion.

When she pulled up to the house, Eva double checked the number before sending them a text that she was there. A minute later, Dylan was hustling out of the house with a duffle bag slung over their shoulder. Eva got out of the car to open the trunk and give them a huge hug. “It’s nice to finally meet you!” she said.

”Same!” Dylan said, but with a slightly less enthusiastic tone. “Let’s just get out of here.” They shut the trunk and quickly got in the passenger seat. Eva noted Dylan’s nervous behavior, but she chalked it up to running away from their parents and meeting someone they’d only known through the internet. So, she let it go and joined Dylan in the car.

-

The first couple hours were a bit awkward. They attempted to make small talk, but it didn’t go well. Eva kept dancing around the subject of Dylan’s decision to leave home while Dylan ignored her questions and tried to talk about silly Tumblr posts. Eventually, they just lapsed into silence.

When they got back in the car after stopping at a gas station, Eva decided to play music so they wouldn’t have to suffer in a palpable silence. She hooked up her phone to her car’s radio speakers and let Dylan scroll through Spotify and play whatever they wanted. The first couple songs were enjoyed in silence. Eva then began to hum and then sing along, and soon they were both screaming the lyrics at the top of their lungs.

The conversation stated with favorite bands before moving through favors movies, television, actors, and more. Talking became easier by the minute as the two found topics that they could comfortably agree upon. As they ran out of easy subjects, they moved on to political issues and moral debates.

As the conversation evolved, Eva began to feel more and more grateful that she had brought Dylan along. It looked like her plan of cementing their friendship would be successful after all.

-

When it was dark outside and Eva could barely keep her eyes open, Dylan suggested that they stop for the night. Not wanting to spend money on a hotel, the pair eventually decided to sleep in the car. They were lucky to find the parking lot of a recently shut down restaurant just a couple minutes after exiting the interstate.

Eva retrieved a couple blankets from the trunk and shower her companion how to recline their seat all the way back. They bid each other goodnight and turned to curl up facing the car doors.

After a few minutes of silence, Eva whispered, “Dylan? Are you awake?”

”Yeah,” they replied. “I can’t sleep.”

”Me either.”

”Why?” Dylan flipped over to face her.

Having heard them moving, Eva also turned over. “You first.”

”Ok,” Dylan started, taking a deep breath. “I’m thinking about my parents.”

Eva wanted to ask about why they were running away, but she restrained herself. “Do you miss them?”

”No, definitely not. I’m so glad that I’m leaving. The way they made comments about my appearance or my grades or the amount of time I spent on the internet... it was just so toxic. It felt like the descriptions you read about people who are bullied in school.”

Eva nodded. “Your parents shouldn’t make you feel like a victim.”

”Yeah. I didn’t realize that for the longest time, but when I did, it was like a light switched on in my brain. I don’t owe them anything. They can’t force me to stay while they are making comments that let my mental health deteriorate.

”Before you offered to let me come with you, I was in a really bad place . . .” They trailed off and took a few deep breaths. Eva noticed that their eyes were sparkling with held back tears. “My mind was thinking the darkest thoughts that someone could have. If you hadn’t messaged me when you did, I don’t know what I would have done.” At this point, Dylan’s breath was shaky and their voice was cracking.

”Hey, it’s ok,” Eva sat up and leaned across the parking break to give them a hug. “You’re here now. They can’t do anything to take you back. You’re free.” Dylan finally broke and sobbed into her neck.

They stayed like that for a long time, holding each from across the car. When Dylan finally calmed down, they both laid down and drifted off to sleep. It was comforting to both of them to know that they were safe with someone who had their back.

-

Eva woke up first, but she stayed laying down for a little while longer, letting Dylan sleep. Eventually, she gently shook them awake. “Hey, Dylan,” she whispered. “Put on your seatbelt so I can take us to breakfast.” They grumbled but complied, and soon Eva was driving to the nearest place with pancakes while Dylan continued to sleep.

Eva gently woke Dylan again when they arrived. Inside, the pair ordered a breakfast feast and chatted about their favorite foods, their favorite memories, their most nostalgic items, their most sentimental keepsakes. The conversation was light and filled with increased laughter as they consumed caffeine and woke up. They took their time and continued to chat, ordering more coffee as an excuse to stay. When their bellies were so full that they couldn’t possibly eat any more, Eva and Dylan returned to the car and continued their journey.

-

As they approached their destination, Eva and Dylan’s mood began to dim. The car fell into an uneasy silence that they didn’t bother to fill with music. Eva had spent nearly two days in the same car as Dylan, but she hadn’t grown tired of their presence. In fact, she grew more attached to her fiends. They would be living in the same city, but Eva didn’t want to say to them when they reached their destination. She already knew that she’d miss Dylan while living only ten minutes away.

When there was only twenty minutes of driving left, Eva exited the interstate to refuel at a gas station. The sun was beginning to touch the horizon when finished filling up the car. “Hey, I need to go to the restroom,” she told Dylan. “I’ll be right back.”

On her way back to the car, her phone rang for the first time in two days. The caller ID was Dylan, but that couldn’t be right. From where she was standing, Eva could see them sitting in the car and watching the distant sunset in the car’s mirrors. They must have left their phone at home, and it was probably one of their family members calling to ask where Dylan was. Not wanting to disturb them with a conversation about their family, Eva answered the phone still standing on the sidewalk in a few feet away from the car.

”Hello, is this Eva West?” The voice was masculine, most likely Dylan’s father.

She turned away from the car to face the sunset. “Yeah, that’s me.”

”Okay, good. I’m calling all of —‘s friends to inform them.”

She winced at the use of her friend’s deadname. “Inform us of what?” Eva tried to keep her voice neutral and not give away that she knew Dylan had run away from home and knew their exact location.

Dylan’s dad was silent for a moment, and then a shaking breath was drawn. “— is dead.”

That was weird. Dead, not missing? Perhaps they gave up on the search and declared them dead. “What . . . What do you mean?” Eva barely had to add any concern to her voice, because it was already creeping in.

“— committed . . . committed suicide a week ago.”

A week ago. A week ago was when Eva told Dylan that she was going to road trip to college. A week ago was when Dylan asked Eva to tag along on her road trip. A week ago was when Eva made the plan to road trip and become closer friends.

The hand holding up her phone was shaking violently. “I have to go. Thank you for telling me.” Eva hung up and then paused to take a few deep breaths. She whipped around to look at the car, not sure which version of what she would find terrified her more.

No one was in the car.

Eva stared at the empty passenger seat for a while, unable to comprehend what it meant. The world blurred as tears quickly pooled in her eyes. She somehow managed to get in the car before she completely broke down. Eva’s head rested on the steering wheel that she gripped with an iron-tight grip. Her sobs were loud and wet and heartbreaking.

Some time later, she calmed down enough to wipe her eyes. She fumbled in her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone, navigating to her text conversations and call list and Tumblr messages. All of the conversation that Eva remembered having with Dylan over the past week were gone. There was no evidence to prove that she had actually interacted with them.

Dylan was gone.

Eva leaned back in her seat and stared into the rear view mirror. Her eyes glazed over as she remembered her times with Dylan, the good and the bad and the great. She didn’t know if the past week had been hallucinations or a ghostly visit, but Eva was grateful to have some perceived interaction before Dylan left for good.

Her only regret was that she never got to tell them goodbye.