#tldr; anyway all this below to say.

[moonlit-escape]

us when the weird woman who is weird and has said she is weird and has shown she is weird and literally wrote multiple entire shows and miniseries to show off how weird she is, is actually pretty fucking weird

[omarwolaeth]

It's such a tiny innocuous thing that really doesn't matter, but I feel like calling duel monsters a children's card game (when it's fundamentally baked into everyday life, and your social existence is judged by what you play and how you play it so very intensely, for everyone in-universe) is an absolute injustice to what it is for that universe of people.

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[safination]

The Wrong Competitor

|Masterlist| Ao3| NOW WITH A PART 2: |The Actual Competitor| Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader. Platonic! Vox & Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, , Alastor is in hell for a reason, Reader is in hell for a reason, being a simp for your partner, husband! Alastor. demon! Alastor, drinking,flirting

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. There are two drinks secured around one hand. The other reaches out for a handshake. Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier. “Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shame to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively and the food and drinks are delicious.” Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask as he sees you reaching out. Well, that won’t do. He takes the handshake intended for you, shaking Vox’s hand with a firmer grip than needed. You’re determined to enjoy yourself and Alastor prides himself on being a husband. So, he won’t cause a scene—not today at least. The handshakes last longer than handshakes should last. Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips. You tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning to his bicep to hide your scowl. TLDR: The Hazbin Hotel decides to hold a masquerade party. Despite his better judgment, Alastor invites his wife even if he’s aware of Vox’s attendance, who’s keen on competing with Alastor for his wife’s attention….If only Alastor knew how much you and Vox would gag at the idea of him flirting with you. It’s not his wife’s attention that Vox competes for. It’s not even Alastor who he’s competing with. Actually… Alastor isn’t part of the competition.

Have a little brainrot of mine. Lol just pure on crack of the silliest shit. Tell me what you guys think because I found this so fucking hilarious that I had to write it down. Anyway, have my heavily unedited brain rot. I tried a different writing voice today instead of my usual third person-second person pronoun pov, and tried like an all around pov. Update: *6/19/2024 We lost electricity at home so instead of studying, I decided to polish my un-polished crack. Everything's the same, it's just written better and I didn't add much.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor slithers out of the shadows below, stepping out from the darkness that pools underneath you. There are hundreds  of shadows to pop out of, still it’s your shadow that Alastor chooses to spring out from. There’s a smile painting his lips as he materializes. A deer mask covers half his face.

“Goodness,” you say, mirroring his smile. “What am I supposed to do when strange yet handsome Sinners pop out of my shadow without a warning.”

Alastor steps further into the light. “Handsome?”

And oh…oh.

(Oh, indeed. Alastor is wearing a tail-coat, a vest hidden underneath. Oh god he’s wearing a vest. One side of his hair slick back, allowing stray strands to flutter around the deer mask. When you run your hand across his biceps…you feel it underneath your touch—Sleeves garters.)

The smile on your lips widens, and you’re thankful that a mask covers your own face. “I’d call you handsome any day, sweetheart,” you tell him. “If it’s alright with your wife, of course. Such a charming little thing like you surely belongs to someone.”

“I think I like you better than my wife.” Alastor inches closer to press a kiss. “She never compliments me as much as you do.”

A delighted humm escapes you. “Then she’s quite the fool, for you are quite the charmer.”

Alastor shakes his head, a small laugh escaping as he smoothens some feathers that stick out your head. “You didn’t have to join me tonight,” he says. “I’ll be too busy with work to be next to you.”

“Then you should have thought about that before you gave me an invitation to Charlie’s party.” You reach out to smoothen the lines of his tail-coat, pulling on it to adjust its fit around his body. “And I’m already here, wearing a very, very, expensive dress.”

“Do you even enjoy such parties?” Alastor grabs your wrists before your hands can trail any further. “It seems your mind would rather be somewhere else.”

“There’s food and music, and I get the excuse to wear such a lovely dress.” You pull your wrist from his hold, catching his hand to intertwining your fingers with his. “Do you like it? I hope you do, considering I received it along with the invitation.”

Alastor lifts his arm, twirling you underneath to flare the skirt of the dress. “You look almost as dashing as I do.”

“Ha! And that’s precisely why I must join you, deerest.” You smack his bicep in good fun, barking out a laugh. Dear god, he’s wearing the leather sleeve garter tonight.) “With such dashing good looks, I’l fear others may try to take your attention.”

He flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

Alastor slips off the deer mask, gazing straight into you. Those eyes of his shine brighter than the stars above this Hell. He reaches out, and pulls on the ribbon that secures your own mask to your face.

There are feathers on your mask. It mimics the bird you are. Alastor inches closer, staring straight into you once there’s nothing to obstruct his view.

“That’s mine,” you say, trying to grab your mask.

Alastor shoves the deer mask on your face. The force causes you to stumble back a little. He’s such a nuisance, honestly…but …but well, his fingers brush over your feathers as he ties the ribbon on his mask. 

Strands of your feathers flow between his fingers as it lingers. Alastor presses the feathers to his mouth, brushing them with his lips. “I think our masks are a bit too on the nose,” he says, and each word caresses your feathers. “Deer masks suit you much better, and this way, I can spot you from even across the room.”

Alastor inches lower until you meet his eyes. You take the bird mask and tie the ribbon around his head, securing it on him.

There’s a feather that sticks out your head. Alastor picks it out. The stray feather gets waved around until he tucks it within the mask.

You reach out to remove the feather, but Alastor catches your wrist and presses a single kiss on the inside.

“The color of my feathers are different from the ones on the mask,” you tell him. “Come on, take it out. It sticks out a bit too much.”

“I’ll have you know that I quite like the feathers.” Alastor plays with the feather on his mask. “More importantly—tell me about your day. I want to know every second of every minute…it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you.”

“You would know all about my day if you were living at our home with me,” you tell him, crossing your arms. “You know, the home that we’ve built together for the past few decades?”

Alastor plays with the edges of your pinky before intertwining his fingers around your hand. “Or…” he begins, and presses a single kiss on the wedding ring around your finger. “I would known if you lived at the hotel…with me.”

There’s a smug smile on you. “Are you asking me to live with you?”

“Would you?”

“I would.”

“I’m still rather hesitant to involve you with the hotel…yet I found myself sending an invitation anyway.” Alastor presses a kiss on the edge of your lips, letting himself linger. 

“An invitation?”you say, faking a gasp. “That’s weird because I swore the invitation came with a dress as well. Hmmm, now I’m wondering who sent such a piece to me.”

“I found myself sending an invitation��and a dress.” Alastor rolls his eyes. “But the point still stands, it’s safer if you are at our home. It’s quiet and secure and doesn’t have a giant sign pointing straight at its door.”

“Ah yes…that,” you say. “I heard about it on the televisi—newspaper. It must be tiring to be attacked thrice in one day.”

Alastor shakes his head, pulling you into a tight hug. One hand presses on the back of your head, cradling you gently. “Just before I lose you to my job.”

You steal a kiss from him. “As if you could ever lose me.”

Music beats through the cracks of the Hazbin Hotel’s door. Alastor escorts you inside, a bird mask on his face as he runs his thumb up and down the skin of your hand. You adjust the deer mask on your face before following him deeper inside.

The door opens easily, and you walk inside, arm in arm with the Radio Demon. The fun about masquerade balls is being able to hide behind a mask.

 Except from those who really pay attention.

Vox approaches with a steady and confident smile. Two drinks are secured around one hand. The second reaches out for a handshake. 

Alastor takes a step forward, using his body as a barrier.

“Just a friendly one,” Vox says, a charming smile on his screen. “It would be a shake to ruin the Princess’ evening. The music is lively, and the food and drinks are delicious.”

Alastor’s eyes twitch from underneath the mask when he sees you reaching out to shake Vox’s hand.

Well, that just won’t do! Alastor takes the handshake intended for you, grabbing Vox’s hand before you can reach it, and shakes his hand with a firmer grip than needed.

You’re determined to enjoy yourself, and Alastor prides himself for being a Husband.  (Rosie tells him that there’s a difference between ‘a husband’ and ‘a Husband’ with one clearly better than the other.) So, Alastor won’t cause a scene—not today at least.

Vox slides his eyes towards you, a smug smile displayed on the screen of his lips as he shakes Alastor’s hand. It forces you to tighten your hold around Alastor’s arm, leaning into his bicep to hide a scowl.

The handshake lasts longer than handshakes should last.

Vox offers you a glass. “I brought drinks to start,” he says, keeping the second glass around his hold closer to him. “I hope I’m remembering this correctly—but you still enjoy lemony flavors, correct?”

“How delightful!” Alastor tries to take the drink intended for you.

Vox quickly retracts the drink, taking a single step backwards. “It’s for the lady.”

Alastor’s smile widens ever so slightly into a snarl.

You take the drink from Vox, smiling as lemony goodness fills your senses. Not many bartenders keep such flavors. Part of you wonders if Alastor organized the bar to keep your favorite drink in stock.

One hand trails up Alastor’s back as static emits from his skin. It snakes around until it hooks behind his neck to pull him into a kiss. It’s just a quick peck of the lips, but Alastor places a hand around your waist to pull you closer. Such things are reserved in the confines of privacy, but it seems he doesn’t mind tonight.

There’s an imprint of your lipstick on his skin. It’s something you don’t bother mentioning to him

“Just before I lose you to the crowd,” you say.  “I’m sure you can’t leave your post for so long, and I’ve already kept you for far too long. Don’t worry about me—I won’t be too far from your gaze.”

Alastor presses one last kiss on your cheek before walking away.

With a scowl on his screen, Vox turns the other direction.

You trail behind him, smiling at the second untouched drink around his hand. It seems he’s also wearing a tail-coat tonight, but it doesn’t suit him as handsomely as it does for your husband.

“So, it seems you're here,” Vox tells you, that proud Overlord puff on his chest as he walks around the room. “And here I was wondering why the life in the room suddenly became dull.”

“Funny,” you say, matching his steps. “It seems you’re still pining for my husband—Will you ever give up on him?”

“Ah yes…the same husband who disappeared on your for seven years,” he says, casually swirling the second drink in his hand. “He left you once, he can leave you again.”

You take a sip of your drink, letting the taste of lemon slide down your throat even as your eye twitches from underneath the deer mask. “It’s quite hilarious to know you still remember how my husband hates lemon undertones in his drink.”

“Well, I didn’t want him choking on such unrefined tastes.”

“Is this meant for Alastor?” You grab the second glass from his hand, bringing it closer to your nose. “Whiskey. Ah… it was meant for him. What—were you too scared to give it to him?”

Vox barks out a laugh, crossing his arm. “It’s for me, actually.”

“Then drink it.”

“It’s been compromised by your stench.” Vox takes the glass and tosses it away.

From across the room, Alastor swirls his whiskey and allows his eyes to wander across the crowd. In a room full of Sinners, he can never be too careful especially when you’re involved. It’s then that his eyes catch Vox inching closer to you, and it’s then that his grip on the glass tightens.

Charlie smiles at Alastor as he doesn’t seem to be listening to her. That’s alright—it’s quite loud and drinks often tend to loosen him up. Alastor’s looking at her, but his body faces the crowd as he leans on one of the tables. It’s almost as if he’s looking out.

It’s been the same pattern for almost fifteen-minutes ever since Alastor came back with a bird mask instead of his own deer mask. Charlie would say something, and he would nod. From time to time, Alastor would glance out into the crowd in the same direction his body is facing.

“So, I had an idea to get more sponsors,” Charlie tells him, tapping the glass for her soda. “We can do a whole music number with flowers and dancing and singing, and I just thought you could be our main lead! The genre would be rap music.”

Alastor’s eyes slid to the crowd once more. “What a spectacular idea!”

Charlie follows his gaze until they land on you. Well, that certainly solved the mystery of where his deer mask went and where the bird one came from. One of the feathers on Alstor’s mask matches yours perfectly.

“Do you think we can get more TVs for the hotel?” she asks. “And I don’t mean the old ones, but the flat-screens that are about fifty-inches.”

You glance over at Alastor and Charlie when you notice their looks, and offer a small smile and a wave.

Alastor smiles back, giving you a wave as well. “Perhaps.”

“How about some digital cameras?” she says. “All of us could take a happy family portrait.”

“Of course.”

Wait-staff carry trays of different types of appetizers. Vox snatches a couple tiny platters, offering some to you. The first bite causes you to hum with delight. It’s quite delicious…but quite small. Vox offers another tiny plate to you, and it’s grabbed enthusiastically.

It’s great that Vox took more than one.

He bites into the cracker with some kind of seafood on them, humming at the taste. “You’ve aged.”

“Yes, it seems I have.” You laugh at him, shaking your head as you take another sip of your drink. “I’m quite lucky that I’m in the company of my husband to grow old with. It’s quite the treat to be able to live day to day with Alastor.”

Vox offers you a bite of the cracker.

You take it, nodding and humming with delight at the taste. “Oh, that’s quite good—here, taste this one.”

At the sight of your laughter, Alastor’s drink shatters into tiny pieces of broken glass. It shatters to the floor.

Charlies raises an eyebrow at him. It only takes a snap of her fingers for magic to work its wonders and clean the broken glass and replace his drink.

“Apologies,” Alastor says, smile widening just a fraction. It doesn’t fully reach his eyes. “I forgot my own strength.”

Once more, Charlie follows Alastor’s gaze until it lands on you, and once more, the glass in his hand shatters when he sees Vox inching closer to offer you some appetizers and then your laughter.

Charlie snaps her fingers and a new drink appears in his hold. “I’m going to run out of glasses eventually.”

Alastor takes a turn around the ballroom after Charlie kicks him away from the corner. It’s all he can do to call his growing ire to keep the guests happy. Afterall, it’s him who controls his emotions and not the other way around. There’s also the matter of his job.

A Sinner blocks his patch, a doll-like smile on her face. “Do you happen to be the Radio Demon?”

“In the flesh!” Alastor’s smile widens to show off the yellow in his teeth, giving a little bow.

“I wasn’t sure with the mask,” she says, motioning towards it. “My friends said they spotted you earlier with a deer mask, but it seems you’ve changed it. I quite like the feathers .... Although, the one that’s different kind of sticks out.”

A muscle in his cheek tightens. “I’m quite fond of that feather,” he says. “It means quite a lot to me, and I don’t take kindly to those who insult what is precious to me.”

“Oh…of course,” she says. “It suits you quite well.”

She points a finger towards his bowtie. It seems it’s a bit crooked. There’s a smile on her face as she reaches out her sully hands to fix it.

Alastor takes a single step back, making it a point to show it off to her that he’s doing so.

The doll-like smile on her face wobbles a little. That’s fine. Alastor always hated dolls. “Oh…um…,” she says, scrambling to recover. “There’s a stain on your lips.”

His ears flicker for a moment, but he runs his thumb across his mouth. Red stains his gloves. It’s the color of your lipstick. “It seems I do.”

“Been drinking too much wine tonight?” She offers him a handkerchief.

“No need.” Alastor takes out his own handkerchief. It has his initials carefully embroidered on them.  He goes to wipe your stain on his lips, but decides against it. “The wine they serve here is quite bland, but luckily there’s something much sweeter on the palate.”

Her smile fades into a frown when she notices the embroidery on the edges of his handkerchief.

Alastor continues to stand with a smile as she tries her best to compliment him in the smallest of ways. It’s quite nice to hear such compliments that inflate his ego.

Although… It's a bit weird.

The thrill of sudden recognition doesn’t hit as high as before. It’s just stagnant now. Praise doesn’t thrill him like they should.

Alastor allows his mind to wander, and his ego inflated to the highest degree when he imagines you standing before him instead, saying the things this random Sinner tells him. (He should figure out a way to get you to compliment him more.)

Plates of food and dozens of empty glass litter the bar table. It’s the aftermath of downing unlimited alcohol and enjoying some appetizers as insults are hurled that not even a merciful god can forgive.

Vox takes a bite of the olive and flicks the toothpick that came with his drink. It lands between your feathers.

A curse escapes your mouth as you try to dig it out. “Why are you even here?”

“It’s a party.” Vox hands you another drink. “I like the music, the drinks are unlimited, and this is quite fun.”

The drink gets downed in one gulp, and you flick the toothpick at a passing Sinner’s hair. It lands between the strands of his hair. “That’s one more point for me,” you say, pumping your fist. “Come on, TV boy—give me my point.”

Vox’s head flashes. It goes from his face to a screen with both your names on it. The number below your name increases on point before his face returns once more.

You shimmy a little dance as your point increases.

Vox makes a face, cringing at your dance. “You’re such a fucking loser.”

“Ha! His loser,” you say, sticking out your tongue.

“You’re still five points down,” he tells you, scowling as he grabs a passing drink from a waiter. “Why suggest this game if you’re not even good at it.”

You shrug, grumbling a little. “I always win against Alastor.”

“Are we not going to get in trouble?” Vox swirls the drink in his hand. “This is still a royal’s party.”

“Aren’t you an Overlord?” you say, taking another bite of a cracker. “Act like it. I mean, it’s not like anyone’s going to call you out.”

The music catches your attention, and it pulls your focus to the dance floor. Oh…Alastor’s dancing. His broad back puffs out as he moves across the floor with purpose and grace. There’s a charming smile on his face as he dances along the beat of the music.

That looks fun.

 It would certainly be a shame to waste such a beautiful dress by blending in with the decorations on the walls.

You turn to Vox. “Care to dance?”

Vox takes another toothpick, flicking it. It missed the Sinner’s hair. He curses while you pump your fist. “With you?” he says, making a face “Ew—no, that’s disgusting.”

“Alastor’s dancing right now,” you say. “It looks fun.”

Vox raises an eyebrow and glaces to the dance floor. A snarl appears on his lips when he notices that smug smile on the woman dancing with Alastor. “A new challenger?”

You tilt your head, and feathers slide across your face as you observe Alastor dancing. Oh, Vox’s right. There’s a woman with him right now. “Oooooh, who’s that? She’s quite the belle—smash.”

Vox turns to you, making a face. It’s quite funny to see. “Do you even know what that mean—”

“I know what I said.”

His screen shifts and paragraphs of information appear on his face. “Oh…she’s one of the daughters of the Ars Goetia.” The scowl on his face deepens as he continues watching, and he offers an arm towards you. “Come on—let’s dance. Game on, bitch.”

“Just ignore her,” you tell him. “She’s no threat to me, and I allow you to flirt with Alastor all the time.”

“That’s because I play fair,” Vox says, rolling his eyes. “We have our rules, and it creates order. This bitch doesn’t know that…and hasn’t someone ever told her—three’s a crowd.”

Once more, you turn to the dance floor. Alastor’s graceful movements catch your eyes and a delighted hum escapes your lips. His body dances with control and power. There’s awe in the woman’s face as Alastor dances with her. 

That’s alright—she’s only doing her due diligence.

Only a blind fool wouldn’t appreciate how Alastor’s hair sways with each side-step, or how his tail-coat fits handsomely across his back, or how charming his smile paints across his lips, or how the dress-pants he wears compliments how long his legs are.

Vox may be a fool but at least he isn’t blind.

“Holy fuck! Woman—get it together!” Vox points towards the dance floor, to the Sinner dancing with Alastor.

There’s a triumph in her smile. She dances with Alastor as if she won.

Vox watches your expression carefully, chuckling as a cold look steels your face despite the gentle smile. Oh, it is so on.

“Well, this just won’t do. If there’s one thing I hate—it’s those who don’t know their place,” you say, snaking your arm around Vox with a smile. “Game on, bitch.”

Vox escorts you towards the middle of the dance floor, that proud Overlord puff back on his chest. It’s quite easy to match his movements when he always was quite the talented dancer.

“Hey…,” you say, eyes twitching. “What are you doing?”

Vox’ hands hover above your skin, refusing to make contact. “I’m afraid that if I touch you, my life would turn to ruin like everything else that has had the misfortune of meeting you,” he tells you, a triumphant smile on his lips. “And you’re doing the exact same thing!”

“That’s because I’m married. It would be improper of me to be touching such a slimy Sinner.” You slam the point of your heel right on his shoe. “My apologies…it would be much easier to dance if you’re actually holding me.”

Vox steps on your toes, and you snarl at him. “You first, witch.”

“As you say whenever Velvette tells you to take a bath—no thanks.”

“The I guess you say the same thing about shampoo—”

“May I interrupt?”  There’s a wide smile on Alastor’s lips that show off the yellow in his teeth. He stands in the middle of the ballroom, not caring as others give him weird looks for blocking the path. Alastor stands proud as his hand offers itself to you.

Across the dance floor, there’s an irritated look on the woman’s face when Alastor abandoned her mid-dance. There’s a smile on your lips as you show her what real triumph looks like.

Vox smiles at him, and hands you towards your husband. “Of course.”

He takes your hand, playing with the tips of your fingers before intertwining them. A hand snakes around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. The music flows slowly across the room. It’s sweet melodies forcing you to lean your head on his chest.

Alastor squeezes your hand.

You squeeze back.

His legs slide between your as Alastor dips you low, a hand on the small of your back to support your waist. He takes the lead in this waltz, spinning and twirling your around while pressing himself as close as possible to you.

The side of his cheek, nuzzles into the crown of your feathers as you’re swayed around the ballroom.

“I’ve found myself in a bit of a corner,” you say, snaking your hand up and down his back as if to pet it. “I owe Vox two dances. You interrupted the first, but there’s still the matter of the second one.”

Alastor’s hand tightens around you, and shadows flare around the room. It causes dancing couples to instinctively take a step away. “Did he force you into a deal?”

“Not at all,” you say, nuzzling into his hold. “I lost a bet, that’s all. You know me, I get rather competitive, and got a little bored a while ago after getting my fill of food and drinks.”

 “I’ll take your place so just stay far away from him.” Alastor’s smile turns into a snarl. “Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again after this.”

You go on the tip of your toes to press a kiss. “Thank you.”

Alastor twirls you underneath his arm. “I never got to ask…,” he begins. “How do you like my outfit?”

“It suits you very well, my love,” you tell him. “In fact, I have to say that you are the most handsomest of handsome, and those pants really do you some justice.”

Alastor flicks your nose. “Stop it.”

“Should I really?”

“No…,” he says, leaning into your ear. “I want to hear more.”

The dance ends eventually, and Alastor behind you with one hand on your shoulders and the other holding you to escort you like a gentleman.

Vox greets you with a wave, another drink around his hand.

You step out of Alastor’s hold and press a hand on Vox’ shoulder to whisper into his ear. “As you dance with my husband, I want you to know that he’s taking your hand only because I allow it,” you tell him with a smile. “I want you to know that it’s only possible because of the permission I grant you.”

Vox snorts and offers a hand out for Alastor. “Understood.”

The musicians play their instruments and music once again fills the dancefloor. Sinners stay paces away as Vox and Alastor dance, especially given the threatening expression on Alastor’s face. It’s funny how Vox doesn’t seem to mind Alastor’s darkened gaze.  The irritated look on your husband's face makes you a bit guilty. Oh well, you’ll make it up to him later.

The dance ends, and both Vox and Alastor go their separate ways once more. There’s a twinkle in Vox’s eyes as he gives you a small nod of farewell. It has you shaking your head.

Alastor wipes his hands before taking your hand once more. “Let’s go.”

“Already?” you say, frowning. “We’ve only had one dance so far.”

“We can dance to your heart's content, my love…just not here,” Alastor says, fixing the straps of your dress. His hands ghost around the zipper, and it lingers there for more than a moment. “Apparently, I’ve maxed out my working days. Charlie told me it was in my contract and I have to spend them before I can go back to work at the hotel. She practically kicked me out. So, I have the next few days off.”

“That’s good.”

“Shall we go?” Alastor brings your hand closer, pressing a kiss on the ring around your finger. “Home—our home.”

“Really?” you say. “You’re going to go home with me?”

“For the next two weeks.”

Alastor watches your smile brighten as your eyes crinkle. It’s the most precious thing in this ballroom, and its radiance can light up the whole room. You spring up to hug him, squealing as you wrap your arms around his neck. The force of your hug causes him to take a couple steps back to keep from falling over. Alastor places a hand on the small of your back to steady you.

His bowtie is crooked. 

You point towards it,and reach out a hand to straighten the fabric. Alastor takes a single step forward, leaning down to allow more access. The pads of your thumb smoothen his crooked bowtie.

Vox catches your eyes and he toasts a drink in your direction.

You remove the wedding ring around your finger, slipping it over your middle finger instead. The ring and the finger are presented to Vox as you leave with Alastor’s arm around your waist.

Game on, bitch.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor whenever someone flirts with you : hiss hiss, get away from my wife. Reader whenever someone flirts with Alastor: Fucking understandable. Finally, someone with good fucking taste. This is so funny and silly. Vox and Reader are so sibling-coded that it wonderful. I love fan-fiction. I love how unserious it can be

[risingsunresistance]

would you believe me if i said this is skyblock fanart 😭

explanation below for anyone interested. it's a bit long 🐖

basic explanation for people who dont go here. or the tldr: the rift is a separate dimension in hypixel skyblock where reality and time itself do not function the same. the other npcs tend to take on different forms in there. this is my interpretation of what might happen to techno if he were to travel into the rift based on some other theories about the place and my own headcanons for him

less basic explanation for the rest of you: ok so. first thing to get out of the way, the rift isnt completely separate from the main reality. SOME of your own thoughts and feelings influence the way you exist in the realm and the way the realm itself behaves. not very many people seem to take on forms ENTIRELY divorced from themselves, save for maybe enigma (we dont know who he was originally, if he was anyone at all)

but i have a theory backed up by absolutely nothing that your rift form is mostly influenced by three different things: your inherit magic, your ability to control and manipulate that magic, and your overall stability. stability will look different from person to person and you dont always know if someone is stable or not just by talking to them. even something as simple as a phobia might change them drastically. still, the rift is unstable itself, so sometimes people get altered horrifically even though they were perfectly fine

my main points of reference for this are that some of our most altered characters are some who check all these boxes, and some who are relatively normal dont check any of them. lathrop/porhtal is split into a bunch of eyes and has one human-looking form that sits motionless at the wither cage and doesnt speak. we know he was incredibly magical, eventually got a great grip on said magic, but was also very very unstable. the wizard is very magical, is a master of said magic, and is pretty well put together. he is nearly unchanged in the rift. barry is the same as the wizard but went a bit nuts before he left, so in the rift he seems just a bit... off

on the opposite side of things, maddox is someone who we are told has ZERO magic in him. the only thing that changes in the rift is the fact that his helmet is red now. kat has never shown us any magic and seems to be pretty normal, so she's also just a different color palette in the rift and happens to have a weird job

anyways back to techno. (btw if you're reading this and happen to not be a regular here this is a mix of headcanons and "canon" but im treating it ALL as real and true facts for the sake of this drawing ok). he could be one of the most magical people here... but he has no idea how to use any of it on command. if you asked him if he possessed any magic, he would say no. his healing ability, while it is VERY strong, is passive, and he was only able to gather magic during the resistance fight with the help of the wands we were given. but he was able to gather a lot of magic during that fight, concentrate it, and release it all on his own. not many people could handle that. he also worships the blood god and has its blessing, and has some connection with spirits in the form of the voices / chat / whatever you wanna call them. there might be even more to him, who knows

so that's already a setup for disaster, but what about his stability? well he's constantly followed by a chorus of thousands of voices all screaming at him and god itself might be hanging around in that mix, led a war against the server staff and a dictator that lasted for 2 years skyblock time, and did the whole potato war thing which was ~70 years server time iirc. i wouldnt really call him stable KFJHG

so what you end up with is a very violent beastly thing, nearly unrecognizable save for the fact that he's still a pig (my first point, you dont become a COMPLETELY different thing under most circumstances). i think he's entirely out of control of himself and would not remember a trip to the rift. a stability elixir might help him in terms of being more aware of himself (i think sirius really downplayed what that potion does lmao it's not just a fun drink, he wanted to guarantee himself some control over his mind while he was conducting his "business" in the rift) but there's no saving the physical form

i wanted him to be beastly to mimic what happens to "dante" in the rift (the memory of dante, it's complicated. but dante and bacte are most likely two different people who are also the same person). yeah he was a big slime in the overworld, but now he's more monstrous. he also doesnt speak, he might not have any idea what's going on. same could be said for techno in a way. of course this is related to dante, what else would you expect from me :P i want to see them fight at the colosseum so bad...

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

but anyways THIS WAS SO FUN AAAAAUGH IM SO GLAD I FINALLY GOT THROUGH THIS. MY IPAD FINALLY DIED AFTER AN ENTIRE DECADE IN THE MIDDLE OF LINING IT AND I HAD TO CONTINUE ON A NEW TABLET WHEN I'VE SPENT MY ENTIRE LIFE DRAWING WITHOUT A PEN... THIS DRAWING WAS CURSED KJFDHGK

here's a version without chat and the blood god so you can just see the big hog

and here's my old concept from july of last year for comparison :P

initially in the post for the old sketch i said he was based on what i think would happen if he got a hold of some sulphur. i actually think that would be about the same as his rift form because sulphur seems to do very similar things under certain circumstances. always corrupts your form, can sometimes make creatures MUCH larger (matriarch, kuudra, magma boss), heightens your magic (mage outlaw), and can make you incredibly violent (barbarian duke)

bye i hope i tricked someone into reading a really long skyblock theory post expecting more info about techno FKJHG

[anachronisims]

How to EFFECTIVELY Use Empty Standby List to Reduce Flashing and Crashing

This tutorial is for TS2. Obviously. This is virtually the last "chapter" of advice for the Pink Flashing Survey Report (still forthcoming as a single readable thing but posted in bits and pieces over the last six months). PS it's a lonnnnnnng post. Ctrl+F "tldr" for the very short version once you open the cut.

"Part 1" of the Empty Standby List ("ESL") tutorial was already written comprehensively with screenshots by Digi at her wordpress. Following Digi's tutorial will get you set up with ESL as a routine automated background task your computer runs, typically every five minutes.

@gayars set up two instances of the routine, each running every five minutes, staggered two/three minutes apart. In other words, task 1 runs at 12:00, task 2 runs at 12:03, task 1 runs at 12:05, task 2 runs at 12:08, etc. However, I found that this negatively impacted the graphical performance of my game, notably by having the ESL task window flash over the game window, which I had never seen before, nor since reverting back to a single 5-minute task routine.

Anyway. Go do Digi's tutorial if you haven't already; I'll wait.

Background on Why this Matters

So, now your computer will be wiping the standby memory every five minutes. The thing is, this won't be able to have much impact on your game unless you wait to let it wipe before you do a major loading action.

Major loading actions are, in general order of strain (most to least strenuous):

Loading a full neighborhood.

Loading a large (3x4 or bigger) populated lot.

Loading a large unpopulated lot.

Loading actual CAS, if you have a lot of non-defaulted CC.

Loading a medium (3x3) populated lot.

Loading a medium unpopulated lot.

Loading a small (2x3 or smaller) populated lot.

Loading a small unpopulated lot.

Loading CAS catalogs from within a lot (e.g. using FFS clothing tool, "Change Appearance" on the mirror, shopping for clothes/trying on clothes on a community lot).

Turning up your lot view settings (generating other lots' lot imposters within your current lot)/panning the camera around.

You should already be doing at least all medium- and large-lot loading with the Lot View Settings Juggling Method, and “uint LotSkirtIncrease” removed from your userstartup.cheat - otherwise whenever you load a lot you are compounding the strain by also having the neighborhood load at the same time.

Using Resource Monitor Effectively

If you watched the Jessa Channel tutorial on flashing, she recommended downloading a third-party RAM usage monitoring software. This is unnecessary. For purposes of reducing your crashing, all you need is the native Windows program "Resource Monitor" that she also recommends.

To open it:

Click the Windows symbol/start menu.

Begin typing "Resource Monitor."

Click Resource Monitor when it shows up.

Once it is open, get to the useful information:

Click the "Memory" tab.

Make sure the "Processes" and "Physical Memory" subs are fully open, as above.

Sort by "Commit (KB)."

Each time you reopen Resource Monitor, it should restore your last view settings, so you won't have to repeat these steps.

While Resource Monitor is still open, "Pin" it to the taskbar so it will always be readily accessible.

Right-click the icon on the taskbar.

Click "Pin to taskbar."

If it says "Unpin from taskbar" you have already done this step :)

Now comes the monitoring part. You will focus on the dark-blue "Standby" block of the bar graph on Physical Memory.

Every fifth minute, when the ESL task runs, this will flash down to 0 and then pop up to about 30-75, depending on what you are doing. It will go higher faster if you are doing stuff, obviously, and hover pretty low if your computer is just sitting still. TLDR the remainder of this tutorial: only take stress actions when Standby is below 100.

As we all know too well, TS2 has a 4gb RAM limit. The problem is, TS2 seems to count the memory that is in standby, too, not just the committed/working set. Thus, before you take a major loading action (that is going to push up to 1.5gb into Standby), you need to wait for Standby to wipe so the game doesn't accidentally think it's using more memory than it is. Got it?

This is how much RAM my game is using when my neighborhood opens, pretty closely zoomed in on any particular lot. If it is zoomed out further - like a whole city block - both committed and working set are easily over 2.2gb. When I pan around the neighborhood, it continues going up. Portions of the hood that go back out of view seem to get relegated to standby, but yes, my game has crashed just from looking too much at my neighborhood from too wide an angle. Unless I slow down and let ESL run before moving on to the next section.

Six months of diligent Resource Manager monitoring has resulted in substantial reductions of crashing and flashing on my first hood view load and first lot view load. It is not 100% guaranteed, but it cuts it back to Very Playable Levels. And when I have tested the theory by purposefully not letting ESL run before a stress point, it always flashes and/or crashes within the next couple minutes.

SO! Here's what I do when I'm launching my game.

Because of overheating concerns, I always fully shut down my computer when I'm not using it for more than an hour. If I have been playing and experience a flash or crash, I will restart before trying again. @infinitesimblr, a survey Respondent who reported virtually no flashing or crashing despite a vast CC catalog, also recommends restarting between using Bodyshop or SimPE and the full game. I have found it may make a difference with Bodyshop (which I use too rarely to make a pseudoscientific claim) but that I have found basically no impact going from SimPE to the game. YMMV.

Immediately after Windows is done loading, I open Resource Monitor and wait a few minutes. Often background updates begin running and the Standby bar goes crazy - sometimes filling up the entire available RAM - and I just let it sit and do its thing. (Usually I start the computer right before my kid's bedtime so I am not actively waiting on it or anything. Go take a shower or make a sandwich or drink some water, like you did in the old days when the game itself took 20 minutes to load.)

Once the standby bar levels out and is consistently peaking no higher than about 250mb between ESL wipes, after the next ESL wipe, I will launch the game. (Usually between logging into Windowsat the beginning of storytime and checking Resource Monitor before we go do tuck-in, it is reliably hanging out below 100 unless a big TS4 or Windows update was downloading.)

Reminder: do not delete thumbnails anymore prior to launching the game. I also have turned off RPC's clear caches option and have observed faster loading times with minimal increases in crashing.

After the neighborhood selection screen comes up, wait for ESL to run again before opening your neighborhood.

If you have continue to have more than VERY sporadic hood load flashing after taking these steps, you should try launching into a subhood if you have one, then pivoting to the main hood if that's where you're playing that session after yet another ESL wipe. If that doesn't help you simply need to thin out your hood or accept the flashing. (I ended up deleting about 25% of my deco trees and 10-15 outer-lying lots that will be re-placed in a subhood.)

After the hood is loaded, navigate to the lot you want, but DO NOT actually load that lot until ESL runs yet again. Ditto for CAS - Do not select "Create New Family" until ESL has run again.

Play should be proceed as normal at this point. You probably don't need to alt-tab back to Resource Monitor again unless your sims are going traveling or you are changing play lots.

BONUS TIP #1: You can put a shortcut to the ESL routine on your desktop and push it manually (just double click the icon) if you don't feel like waiting once the game is loaded. I have had imperfect results with this vs. just waiting the five minutes, though, because the game wants to run through some stuff and flush it. But it's an option for you to experiment with.

BONUS TIP #2: If you have a really deep clothing/hair CC catalog, try to avoid using the FFS clothing tool option where you select every outfit for the sim, and their hair and makeup, at the same time. Instead, choose individual outfits by type and use the regular mirror option to change appearance (or SimBlender has it, I think, so they can do it where they already are).

[felikatze]

I think Happily Ever After and The Cage both explore some similar topics in inverse ways and once again the Prisoner and the Damsel are twisted mirrors of one another

Pristine Cut spoilers and discussion of abusive relationships below. One suicide mention but it's STP what do you expect tbh

Compilation of rant I went on on discord 👍

prisoner and damsel are very much always parallels since u take the same path to get to them so they're both versions of the princess that you the player Trust, right. and the Greys are a betrayal of that trust if you kill them, and all that. obvs w the prisoner being reluctant trust and the damsel being unconditional because Knife.

but HEA and Cage are both about being Trapped. In Cage, the Princess has seen the same thing happen twice now, she's disillusioned, she's never going to escape. It will be The Same Thing, Forever.

WHICH IS. THE EXACT SAME AS HEA. The Princess believes she is never going to escape. That it will be Just This, Forever. And both of them believe that it *has* to be Just This Forever even if they don't *want* it to be.

Both of this is shown through an Externalized Force. in Cage, that is the Princess' body, which she has conceived as separate from herself. The body simply acts as it must, which she has no input over. Ignoring, of course, that she can *make it stop.*

And that's the same way HEA can't imagine she'll ever escape the Smitten! She's afraid and scared of change, of the torches going out!! But she wants it more than anything!!

Yet these two routes are foils for each other, too. Bcuz in Cage, it's the Princess who enforces the pattern, and in HEA it's the Hero. (part of him, anyways.) What's interesting here too that both of the routes result from a breakdown of communications.

I said in my big long rambly Cage post, but Cage route doesn't happen bcuz Fate, it's bcuz the Princess wants the Hero to carry her head out and he just *doesn't get it.* He just didn't understand what she wanted.

And the leadup to HEA, everyone in Hero's head is upset because they can't communicate to the Princess what is freaking him out, and Smitten tries to... well... show her, I guess.

(Post-rant addition: Hey, both the Prisoned and the Smitten kill themselves to get their points across. Add that to the parallels tally!)

also like abusive relationship metaphors on both ends tbh. Smitten doesn't respect Princess' autonomy at all. I think part of that is the end of Damsel means he doesn't think she *has* any interiority when it's Hero + Paranoid/Opportunist who want the Princess to be a person instead of a doll, which causes her to be a Person Again in HEA. But Smitten is, again, just so stuck on the vision of Damsel who no longer exists.

+ you could also read Damsel chapter in the context of HEA as just seeing that this is the first person who could conceivably save her so she is leaning in HARD to the romance angle because she sees it as the best way to finally get out. Got herself into the romance out of desparation and now she's stuck and regretting it.

So TLDR Smitten doesn't actually respect Princess as a person and just wants her to be this perfect image he has of her, and we see also in HEA how he literally restrains Princess + Hero and deliberately scares Princess when she even dares voice her own opinion. Smitten sucks so bad in this one and it's shit of him but also thematically interesting and again a good escalation of his character.

Cage on the flipside is the typical "I can't help myself" excuse. See, *she's* not at fault here. It's her *body* doing this! Really, nothing could change this. And u see the rebuttal of that angle from the Hero's dialogue options ("You're making a choice. You're choosing violence *right now.*)

No matter how often she says she's just a head, she's still the one who physically restrained the Hero (wow, just like the Smitten!), it's her who refuses to listen to anything the Hero has to say (wonder who that reminds me of), and it's her who is hurting him, on purpose, to feel better about herself.

the "good" endings to these chapters (as much as there are no wrong endings) meaning leaving with the cage's head / dancing with hea under the stars, both of these only occur once Hero/HEA are finally heard and acknowledged. Cage is so rattled that the Hero didn't bring the knife that she finally actually listens to a single word he's got to say and the two can break out, and the final torch in HEA only goes out once Princess says "I'm so tired of this." and has the courage to say what *she* wants and is *listened to.*

in conclusion (x2): STP good 👍 i love you missus the cage

[ponstermenis-writing]

Barely Above Minimum Wage

tags// Disabled Johnny Cade, Christmas Fluff, The Gang is a bunch of troublemakers, Johnny Cade is a sassy man with crutches TLDR; Johnny Cade, a severely underpaid high-school substitute, is forced to deal with some of the most troublesome students (the gang) for a whole day. Godbless.

“Are you free on Wednesday the 16th?”  —is the email he receives incredibly late on Tuesday, the 15th. 

Of course he’s free. He’s fresh out of college and not doing much else but cook and clean in his new apartment just to keep from becoming sedentary. It’s a new town, new state, new country. He barely knows anyone out of work—and even then it’s not much. He’s a substitute so he’s not there as much as other teachers—though with the amount of folks quitting and going on strike he might get a permanent spot. 

”Yes, I’ll be free tomorrow.” He replies, trying to type professionally even as he eyes try to pull themselves shut. He gets sent a paragraph in the next seconds—so she knew I was free, that bitch—that he quickly decides could’ve simply been ‘come in at 7:30 tomorrow morning’. He’s barely able to set his alarm before he passes out. 

Waking up was like being punched in the face. He slammed his fist down on the old alarm clock six times before it shut up—subconsciously he’s already thrown it out the window, but a new one is expensive. 

He takes an ice cold shower and fixes his sleep-riddled appearance. He pulls on a red sweater and blue jeans—adding a scarf, gloves, and a huge varsity jacket for the inevitable walk there. He manages to get out of the house right on time, giving Scott (his ginormous sheepdog) a big fat kiss on the forehead before heading there.

The walk is slow and cold—snow had been leisurely falling all week. It was safe to drive in—especially with the big snow plows—but his dark blue beetle from the 1960s that is moments away from exploding in the parking garage probably couldn’t handle it.  He knows he shouldn’t be walking in the snow—the doctors warned him not to put too much strain on himself, but he does anyway—his crutches get buried and he’s sure it would actually be easier to walk without them. 

He got in a pretty bad car crash right after college. His father had actually come to his graduation—just to spend drive back angrily complaining about how ungrateful he was for not mentioning them in his speech. He was clearly drunk and after a few snide comments from Johnny, he drove both of them off of a bridge and into an empty road below. It had killed him instantly, Johnny had to sit in the smashed car for an hour before they got him out. 

He eventually got control of his legs back. He could drive and walk now—but he couldn’t do either for long without help. He was given crutches—loftstrand was the scientific name, but he liked elbow crutches more. 

“You’re late.” The desk lady says as he walks into the office at 7:43. Her names Scarlet—Johnny likes her well enough, even though she has a tendency to be blunt. Johnny gives her an awkward smile, walking up to here desk. “Bad traffic.” he excuses, rolling his shoulders. 

“You walked here, Johnny, I can see the parking lot from my desk.” She smiles just a little to let him know she’s teasing him. “I’m gonna go out on a whim and say you didn’t read the email?”

Johnny frowns. “I skimmed it.” 

She gives him an exasperated look, handing him a sheet of paper. “We need someone to watch six kids before break starts—I assumed you’d be able to handle it.”

“It’s six kids, why wouldn’t I be able to?” He feels himself getting a little defensive. She’s usually one of the few folks who don’t look down on him—”They aren’t regular kids.” She stands, gesturing for him to follow her. “I’m sure you’ve heard some stories about our most troublesome.” She gestulates, waving her hands about as she talks. “You’ve got the lucky assignment to watch them all.” 

“Why me?” He shivers. He knows he’s not very intimidating—he’s treated like a student more often that he is a teacher. And from word of mouth the only way to deal with those boys is to have them fear you. “Is Tim busy?” Tim Shepard, the only other substitute for this whole school. He’s ten times as scary as Johnny is—Tim’s usually the one to deal with detention, he’s the one Johnny got the horror stories from.

“Yup.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s covering Mr.Sniders English class.” 

“Wonderful.” Johnny groans, pulling off his jacket. “So, what? I just watch them for an hour until they get sent back to their classes?”

She laughs, placing her hand on his shoulder. “That would be too easy! You’ve got the whole day with them.” She pauses at the detention room door. “Good luck!” She gives him a teasing smile before walking off. She must know that he can handle it—she’d disperse them into empty classes if not. But sometimes Johnny likes to be undermined—because how in the world is he going to survive this?

He lets out a loud sigh before entering the room, pleased to find it empty—of course those kids wouldn’t be early, what was he thinking?

Johnny drops his stuff on the large desk in the front of the room, unhooking his arms from his crutches and doing his best to move the seats. He arranges them into a row that’s two seats wide—they have the big science desks in here, which is stupid consider the actual science room doesn’t have any. 

Sometime through his rearrangement—The vice principal rolls around. It takes Johnny a moment until he realizes he’s there. 

This guy, is a HUGE dick.

Because of the amount of ‘hoodlums”’—his words, not Johnny’s—the man’s only job is pretty much to take care of anything that goes wrong. And he loves it—he’ll take any chance to talk down on a teacher or student if they dare break any rule he decides it semi-important. He especially doesn’t like Johnny—purely because they went to rivaling colleges, and the only thing keeping this guy alive is reliving the glory days. 

“Mr.Cade.” He says as walks in—even though he, for a fact, knows Johnny’s first name—startling the other. Johnny sighs, straightening himself before the other can gibe about his posture. “Mr.Sheldon.” He says, plastering on a fake smile.

”I’m sure the receptionist has already made what you’re doing pretty clear,” he begins. Johnny wants to scold him for calling her ‘the receptionist’ but knows it won’t go far. “She gave you the attendance sheet, correct?”

Johnny glances to the paper he left on the desk, nodding. 

“Use your words next time, it commands more respect.” The man scolds. He hands Johnny a few papers—giving him an annoyed look when he takes to long to unhook the crutches from his arm. 

“This paper on top is going to be most important,” he begins, pointing to a sheet with some kind of table on it. “As you can see, each of the student’s names have boxes off to the side. If they do anything  against the rules, I want you to write it down here so they can be dealt with accordingly.” He sucks in a breath, “We aren’t afraid to give them detention over break.”

“Ah, the naughty list.” Johnny says with a joking smile, scanning it over—he couldn’t help but notice that some student’s space for writing was bigger than others. His smile turns into an awkward laugh when he notices the stern look on the man’s face. “This is no laughing matter, Mr.Cade. These kids can do some very serious damage.”

”Right, of course.“ Johnny nods, flipping through the stack. 

“The rest of it is just work that their teachers left.” He pauses. “They don’t have to do it, but if they start getting rowdy I suggest assigning it.” He all but snatches the stack from Johnny’s hands and straightens it out. “I expect I won’t have to see you again today, right?”

”Y-Yes sir.” Johnny says before he can stop himself. The other smirks—he loves intimidating people, Johnny hates that he gave him the satisfaction. “Wonderful.” He says, making his way to the door after setting the tidy pile on Johnnys desk. “Oh, and make sure you turn in that attendance sheet the second they all show up. It’s important we keep a close eye on them.”

”Of course, thank you.” Johnny says, deflating once the door closes.

The bell rings a moment later and he knows they’re gonna start coming in soon. He rushes to his desk—hiding the crutches under his desk and trying to make himself look presentable, draping the jacket over the back of his chair and pulling forth the papers he was given. He doesn’t want to give those kids a single thing to make fun of him for.  Hidden between the papers were what looked like character cards. With little photos of each student in the corner of the page. With their names and student numbers to the left. It looked like each of the teachers had written him actual descriptions of these kids. Which, is so wild that it’s actually funny. 

It’s definitely against some kind of rule…

He skims through a couple anyway.  

Keith Mathews, 

   A jokester. He’ll try to prank just about everyone in the room, watch your back. Even if you don’t get the joke, laugh along. Don’t engage with any of his other shenanigans unless you’re ready for a write up. 

He’d seen the boy in passing once or twice. He was never not laughing or messing with someone. Johnny didn’t realize he was that bad. But after seeing his record underneath the description he decides to never think that highly of him again.

Darrel Curtis, 

   Pretty good kid. Doesn’t like being talked down to, best not to boss him around much. He’s got a tendency to blow up—don’t mess with him or his brothers too much or you’ll deal with the bruising. Careful, he manhandles. 

Johnny has to stop himself from laughing at the description. He’s seen him around a lot. He’s a senior—big on the football team. Johnny thought he was an adult several times. He didn’t realize Darrel was such a troublemaker—he was the most sophisticated on his team, especially compared to that Paul friend of his. 

The door opens before he can read another. He quickly tucks the paper away, no doubt looking very suspicious. He’s not sure how kids would feel about their teachers writing warning descriptions of them, but he doubts it’d feel good. 

A younger looking boy walks in—he’s gotta be a freshman or a sophomore. He’s got auburn hair and big green eyes. He gives Johnny a weird look as he walks past, not saying anything before taking his seat in the back of the room. Johnny can feel the boy staring—no doubt wondering who the rando sitting at the teachers desk was.

“What’s your name?” Johnny asks after a minute, trying to sound friendly and not nervous. The boy looks him up and down, furrowing his brows. “Who are you?” He asks almost accusingly, eyes stuck on him. 

“I—uh, I’m the substitute. Mr.Cade.” He quickly recovers, holding up the badge around his neck with his name on it. The boy gives him an unamused ‘sure you are’ look. “My name is Ponyboy Curtis.” He says before ducking his hand back down to read his book. 

Yeah, great talking to you kid.

Johnny sighs, grabbing the attendance sheet and putting a check next to his name. He makes sure the other isn’t watching before he takes a look at his page. 

Ponyboy Curtis,

   Good student, hardworking. Not much of a troublemaker. But he has the tendency to talk back. He’ll follow anything his friends and brothers do, best to keep them apart. 

Johnny quickly notices that three students have the same last name. He sighs, tucking the sheet away. Clearly, Ponyboy was just a smart aleck who couldn’t keep his mouth shut—not to mention that the ‘does whatever his friends and brothers do’ seems to be made very true. All of the infractions on his record line up perfectly with the others. 

He can’t help his own nervousness as it takes longer and longer for the kids to show up. He heard what they did to the last guy who took Tim’s place. Dumped water on him as he walked in, threw shit and destroyed his things, relentlessly bullied him for having the surname Hancock, and then chased him out to his car with rocks—after, of course, they spray painted it with obscenities that made the devil twitch. 

Not to mention he really hated being in a room alone with this kid. He wasn’t really paying attention to Johnny, but he still felt like a bug under a microscope. 

Two students walk in a moment later. They both give him the same reaction Ponyboy did, heading to a set of two seats in the front corner. “Who are you?” The blonde calls loudly, a dopey smile on his face. “Geez Soda, keep it down.” The black haired boy next to him laughed, though matching his loud tone. 

“I’m the substitute.” Johnny says slowly, figuring out who they were by the photos and putting checkmarks by their names. They both share a look, shaking their heads. “No you ain’t.” The black haired man—Steve, shakes his head. “What are you? Like, 15?”

Johnny decides to not engage—he’s unable to keep his eye from twitching, and he’s sure the two notice. 

The other two walk in with quick succession. They look at him like he’s an alien, refusing to acknowledge him verbally. Johnny sighs when the bell finally rings, ducking his head down. Darrel sits down next to his youngest brother, seemingly not planning to cause trouble either. Two-Bit idles around his desk for a bit—no doubt waiting for him to talk first. Johnny’d knows not to—He sits down beside an empty seat eventually. 

The late bell rings and he decides not to worry about the absentee. He’s going through some of the work papers while they silently watch him—he pretends not to notice. All of them have been given a truckload—even if it’s for the troublemakers, he feels bad giving them this much.

He’s sectioning it all off when the door is thrown open. A blonde with shaggy hair and light eyes saunters in, slamming the door shut being him. Johnny glances up, furrowing his brows. The boy—Dallas—is already staring at him. He looks Johnny up and down before stepping closer. “The fuck are you?” He commands, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Your substitute.” Johnny mutters. “Please sit down an—“

Dallas snatches the attendance paper from his hands. Johnny gasps, furrowing his brows. Dallas spends a moment looking over it with a grimace. Johnny tries to stand and take it—his legs buckle awkwardly, the walk in the cold was no doubt gonna ruin his day. He has to use his arms to hold himself upright.

The boys all laugh as Dallas holds it over his head. Johnny fails to grab it several times—he realistically couldn’t get it even if he could stand. Dallas smirks, taking note that Johnny’s teetering one on arm before just barely shoving him back so he falls into his seat. He can’t help his pained wince, squeezing his eyes shut. Dallas gives him a single confused glance before walking back to his seat, paper in hand. 

Johnny doesn’t think it’s worth it. But Mr.Sheldon seemed pretty adamant that he turned it in on time and he’d rather not get torn a new one. With a sigh, he leans down and grabs his crutches from under his desk. He leans on one and pulls himself up, getting his arms inside slower than he’d like.

He knows for a fact that he’d get his ear talked off about needing crutches—students have made fun of him before, even taken them a few times. But when he lifts his head—those boys look mortified. Dallas especially looked like he’d just seen a tragedy. Darrel smacks him on the back of the head, snatching the paper from his hands and walking it to Johnny before he could move. 

Johnny thanks him quietly, setting it down. He glances around the room, furrowing his brows. He gestures for Keith to stand. Which he does immediately, that petrified look still on his face because he no doubt had been planning something to do to him earlier. 

“Can you walk this to the office for me, please?” Johnny asks, handing him the attendance form. Two-Bit’s face twists and he is very obviously holding back a joke about how Johnny couldn’t walk there himself. Instead he just nods. “Don’t take too long, the vice seemed adamant we get it to him.”

Two-Bit just nods before bolting out the door. He knows it’s not smart to send a troublemaker into the hall without supervision. But it’s smarter than leaving six alone in the room, right?

Johnny spares an exasperated glance his way before stepping back behind his desk. He very quickly decides he’s not giving them all that schoolwork. He rummages around in the desk before pulling out a stack of Christmas themed coloring sheets—definitely meant for kindergarten students. He decides it’s better than nothing, pulling himself back up to his feet. He practically hobbles around the room, handing a few of them out. Darrel furrows his brows when he's given one.  "How old do you think we are?" He asks, irritation clear in his voice. Johnny sighs. "It's either this or the buttload of homework your teachers gave out. Which do you prefer?" He raises a brow, getting silence in response. Ponyboy is the only other one to talk to him, taking his paper with a guilty look—no doubt for his friend's behavior. "Sending Two wasn't a good idea." He says just as Johnny begins to turn away. "Huh?" He asks, turning around to face him again. "Keith." He says, like he's an idiot for not knowing what the hell he meant by 'Two'. "Sending him in the hallway by himself wasn't a good idea. You should probably go get him before another teacher does." Johnny frowns. 'Do I look like I can go get him?' is what he wants to say, but instead he just shrugs. Ponyboy doesn't say anything more.  "Hey Johnny," Steve calls, yelling back to him and snapping his fingers like he were a dog he needed the attention of. It didn't help how he perked up at the mention of his name. It takes him a moment to realize that Steve should, most definitely, not know his first name. Johnny looks back at him, noticing a wallet—his wallet, with all of his money and his ID—in his hand and it looks like he's reading off of it. He quickly steps forward and snatches it, tucking it into his back pocket. "How did you—" He begins before shutting his mouth with an audible click.  He can't even turn around for one second, can he? "We need something to color with, man." Steve says with a smirk, eyeing him like stealing his wallet was some sort of achievement. With any other person it would be, but Johnny barely any feeling in his legs right now and stealing something from that general area wasn't a hard thing to do. Johnny hands them a few boxes of colored pencils and lets them hand it out to themselves, already wishing to be home.  The room quickly becomes too silent for his liking—because they were actually coloring. Sodapop literally turned around to show his younger brother his work, to which he received a thumbs up and a comment from Darrel about coloring in the lines. Darrel and Dallas were the only two not coloring. Darrel laid back against the wall with his eyes closed, Dallas just stared at him like he was thinking. Johnny couldn't tell if he felt guilty at all, but quickly decided he didn't care.  After a while he decides the silence is too much to bare. Johnny pulls himself back onto his feet and rummages around the large closet behind his desk. He finds a few Christmas movies and a TV on a cart. He rolls it to the front of the room and rummages through the old VHS's. He doesn't notice Dallas reaching over him until he has one of them shoved in his face. The Grinch, the original animated version. He spares a glance his way, Dallas looks at him expectantly. He can't help his small laugh, tucking the others in the cart before putting in the tape. 

Dallas had the biggest reputation of them all. Johnny wasn't here often—but when he was he always heard his name. Sometimes it was stories of getting arrested—again—or how one of his coworkers had to deal with him doing something-something that day. Grown adults were scared of this seventeen year old.

He personally doesn't get it.  Johnny sits back down at his desk with a sigh, happy to not be on his feet any more. Most of them are still coloring away, sparing occasional glances up at the TV. Dallas is very obviously pretending not to watch the movie, Darrel has one eye peaked open to look too.  He wonders why all of the other teachers seemed so horrified at the very mention of these kids. Sure, they are a little obnoxious—but anyone with patience could deal with them for the day.  Then, a loud, angry knock is heard on the door. 

He should’ve knocked on wood. 

Everyone’s heads shoot up. Ponyboy gives him a knowing look, Johnny not-so-gracefully rushing to get the door. 

Mr.Sheldon has Two-Bit by the back of his jacket collar—like someone holding a kitten by the scruff of its neck, but the kitten is an evil ginger who apparently can’t be trusted alone for two seconds. “Mr.Cade. A word?” The vice principal askes through gritted teeth, all but shoving the other in the classroom while he chuckles. Johnny spares a glance back before following the man outside, shutting the door behind him. 

“What did he do?” Johnny asks, feeling nervousness rise in his chest. Mr.Sheldon is bigger than him, and meaner. He also has no problem getting in his face and yelling, no matter how much people tell him not to. “He’s been going around playing ding-dong-ditch! Do you know how many calls I received in the last ten minutes?!”

“I…how is he even doing that? We don’t have doorbells.”

”Well, we’ve got a comedian on our hands! He’s been making doorbell sounds with his mouth loud enough to disrupt whole hallways! What the hell were you thinking!?” His voice gets louder and louder and Johnny backs himself against the door. He’s very much regretting foregoing his crutches. 

“Well, I thought it’d be better than leaving them all alone in there. They cause more trouble together than—“

”Use your brain! Call someone down to pick it up, you imbecile!” Mr.Sheldon is positively fuming, his cheeks are red and he’s slowly getting closer and closer to hysterics. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

“Think? Yeah, I can tell.” He lets out an angry sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “You’d think after being in America for five years, you’d understand how things work around here.” He grumbles. Johnnys too petrified to comment. “From now on—if anyone has to leave the classroom, I want you to call up to the office and get a chaperone.”

”Yes sir.” Johnny nods, grasping onto the door handle to keep himself upright. 

“You haven’t been working here long. If you keep messing up like this it’s only a matter of time before you get fired.” Johnny knows it’s a thinly veiled threat. The man had threatened his job several times before—its not like he really has the power to get him fired, but just the mention sends a shiver down his spine. “Of course.” He nods, sparing a glance back at the incredibly silent classroom. All of them are staring through the small window on the door. The boys in the back of the room quite literally got up to watch. 

“I hope we won’t have to have this conversation again.” Is all the man says before walking of, the soles of his too-shiny shoes slapping against the linoleum loud enough to make the other flinch. 

Johnny sucks in one final gasp of air, turning and letting himself back inside. He manages to make it to his desk without fumbling too hard,  ducking his head down to not see the stares of the others. 

“Good going Two,” Dallas says sarcastically, loud enough for the whole class to hear. “You got the cripple in trouble.” 

Johnny’s head shoots up. He’s used to being called that, it’s not a shock to him anymore. But he still wants to smack that boy so hard his nappy hair comes off. Sadly, there isn’t much he can do without actually getting fired. It’s clear that the initial shock of him being on crutches has worn off. Now he’ll have to deal with his least favorite part about having them. 

Two-Bit chuckled at Dallas’s comment, but his face faltered at the look on Johnny’s face. He doubts any of these kids are capable of feeling remorse for more than three seconds, but Two is kind enough to not say anything further. It could partly be Darrel glaring down his back too.

They are quiet for a while. Johnny replaces the movie when it ends, nobody acknowledges him. There’s the occasional snickers and menial trouble-making.

Dallas balls up his paper and lobs it at Johnny’s head. Johnny simply ducks out of the way and lets it hit the back wall. Dallas looks annoyed—Johnny quickly realized it was more because he didn’t yell at him instead of his horrible shot. 

Not long after, Two-Bit stands and gets behind Johnny’s desk. Johnny keeps his eyes down and lets him pick up the chalk. He scratches away for only a minute before snickering and walking back to his seat. 

Johnny spares a glance at the board when Two has his backed turned—it read “#1 Crip” with a crudely drawn hand holding up a gang sign and an arrow pointing to his head. He simply rolled his eyes and went back to his work, much to the red-heads chagrin. 

They get a little rowdy when Two-Bit starts getting bored again. “Hey, Johnny—“ he calls loudly. Johnny glances up at him—he honestly doesn’t care about them knowing his first name, but he’d hate to have them find him outside of school. “How old are you, man?” He asks, leaning his head in his hands. 

Johnny sighs. “I’m 22. Why do you ask?”

Everyone’s heads eventually shoot up one by one. Two-Bit opens his mouth to speak, Steve interrupts. “No you ain’t.” He says in disbelief, looking him up and down. “Man, you’ve gotta be younger than us.” 

Johnny can feel his own teeth grind together. There is nothing he hates more than the ‘young’ comments. He understands he doesn’t quite look his age. He’ll never understand why it’s such a big deal. 

“How would that work? I’ve already been through college.” 

“So, you ain’t one of them ‘student—teachers’?” Sodapop asks, squinting his eyes. Johnny simply shakes his head, already having enough of this conversation. “So—you’re old enough to drink and shit?” Two-Bit snickers. Johnny has a sinking feeling the man knows what being drunk feels very well. 

“Legally, yes.“

”Do you?” Dallas askes, leaning back in his seat and raising his brows. “I’m not answering that.” Johnny deadpans. “Cus’ it’s true?” Dallas asks, leaning forward on the desk with a smirk—He’s much like Two-Bit in the fact that he can’t sit still, the chair creaks as he moves. Johnny has to hold back an annoyed groan. The only thing that saves him from this harrowing conversation is Darrel standing up.

He watches in confusion for a second before realizing he’s going to leave. “Wait—“ Johnny calls as he gets his hand on the door. Darrel spares a single glance back at him before continuing on, exiting the room just as he gets his crutches under his arms. 

He’s able to catch up before he gets to the staircase, standing in front of it. Darrel rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and glaring down at him—which is really easy considering he’s a whopping 6’3 and Johnny’s on the cusp of 5’7—and that’s without his permanent slouch.

”Move.” 

“I’m sorry, you have to wait for—“ Johnnys begins, catching his breath. Darrel puts his hand up to silence him. “Get out of the way. I’m not Two-Bit, I won’t do anything stupid.” He groans, uncrossing his arms and somehow looking more intimidating. Johnny can’t help his own stutter, praying the younger won’t simply crush him for being in his way.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust you—but if you get caught—“

”Then I won’t.” He says with a sense of finality. Before Johnny can respond—Darry grabs him by the elbows, lifts him off the ground with a horrifying ease, and sets Johnny back down safely behind him. 

“You can’t just—“ Johnny begins, his mouth closing with an audible snap when the other turns to glare at him. 

“I’m serious. I don’t need a damn chaperone to go to the bathroom.” Darrel seems to notice just how wide Johnny’s eyes are—he lets his shoulder relax and gives him a guilty look. “You might want to head back before they do anything they’ll regret. I heard some talk of trying to lock you out of the room.” 

Johnny opens and closes his mouth several times—finally he decides to accept defeat, struggling back to the classroom before they could do just that. By the time he got there, the boys were all sitting down and the door opened with no struggle. He wonders if Darrel lied to him to get him to leave him alone—either way, none of his business. 

Darrel did come back a few moments later—no vice principal in sight, thank god. The boy’s all seem rather surprised that Johnny let’s Darrel walk by without any repercussions. They go back to the quiet—shockingly well behaved, for now—students they were before.

It’s not silent for much longer of course, as the lunch bell rings.

Johnny becomes suddenly aware that he didn’t actually inquire about what to do for lunch. Everyone’s heads shoot up, looking at him expectantly.

”Uh—How many of you need to get school lunch?” He asks, though he’s sure none of these boys could even make a sandwich. “We all do.” Darry is the first to answer, standing. 

“Damn are we gonna have to get chaperoned to the cafeteria again?” Two-Bit asks, frowning. “Can you even—like, walk that far?” He turns to Johnny, raising a brow. He actually has to stop himself from taking the stapler and hurling it at his head. “Yes, I can walk that far.” Johnny grumbles between gritted teeth. “Now, sit back down. I have to figure this out.” 

The boys all groan but take their seats.  Johnny grabs the phone on his desk and rings the office, thankful that Scarlet was the one to answer. “Hey Johnny.” She says, he can hear the smile in her voice. “How’s hell going?” 

“Just wonderful.” Johnny mutters, playing with the phone cord. “Look—I wanted to know what they do for lunch. They all have school lunch and someone told me they always need a chaperone.” He and Scarlet have many crude names for the vice principal—but he is the type of person to go over call logs, so they’d best not use them.

”Oh, right.” She says. He can hear her rifle through some papers. “Tim usually just walks them there and back—but with you condition I wouldn’t suggest it.”

“What are you, my doctor?” 

“No. But I saw you hobble up the stairs this morning.” She laughs loudly at her own joke. “I’m not saying you can’t walk them there—if you want you can send me their lunch orders and I’ll grab them for you.” 

Johnnys knows for a fact that everything about these boys scream ‘free or reduced lunch’—he should know, he was on the list too—so they won’t really have to worry about paying for he food. But at the same time, some petty part of him wants to walk there just to prove a point. 

So, he does. 

“I’ll walk you guys there.” He says simply, standing up and pulling the crutches under his arm. A few of them share looks and Johnny knows they want to comment—but they keep their mouth shut. He lets them all out of the room and shuts the door behind him. Tim usually makes them walk in a single-file line—Just to be an asshole—but Johnny doesn’t want to do that. 

The boys look a little surprised when he lets them walk in more of a misshapen circle instead of a line. He also notices that they same to form a bubble around him—whether it’s consciously or not, he’s a little confused by it. They probably just don’t want to be seen being walked in the hall by a teacher—but the way some of them are standing, like they’re trying to be intimidating, makes him wonder if this is their pathetic attempt to protect him. 

A kid going the other way pauses at the sight, staying close to the wall to get out of their way. 

The lunch room is filled with students—way too many for his liking. Johnny gestures for them all to join the lunch line, standing close to the wall to watch them. A few of the students who’ve had him before recognize him, turning around to talk to him.

”Hey, man, look who’s here.” A Soc boy—Jeremy, he thinks his name is—snickers, prodding Johnnys side. The kids in this school have a tendency to treat him less like a teacher and more like a student—he hates it so much it makes his blood boil. “Hello Jeremy.” Johny says with a sigh, giving him a quick smile before going back to watching the troublemakers. 

Jeremy seems annoyed by Johnny ignoring him. “Hey, so are you ever gonna get out of these?” He asks, lightly tugging on Johnny’s crutches and almost making him fall. Johnny takes a tentative step back, forcing his body as close to the wall as it would go. “Stuck with them for life, I’m afraid.” Johnny tries to say in a joking tone. 

Jeremy starts grabbing at them harder—his friends all snicker as Johnny tries and fails to get him to stop. “Y’know, the only way you’ll ever walk right is if you just drop ‘em. Maybe then everyone won’t think you’re one of them special handicapped folk.” 

Johnny just grimaces. Jeremy had manages to tug him away from the wall and closer to their lunch table. He’s about to actually yell at him when Jeremy stops all at once. His eyes are wide and his mouth snaps shut alongside his friends—they all quickly turn back around. Johnny gives them a confused look before following Jeremy’s eyes. 

Darrel stands behind him—lunch in hand—he’s got this menacing look in his eyes that only goes away once they boys completely stop bothering him. He doesn’t dare meet Johnnys eyes and he decides that’s good enough for him. 

Two-Bit and Dallas cause a bit of trouble in the lunch line trying to steal one of the soda’s they keep for the kids who pay extra. It ends up making the whole line pause while the lunch ladies tear into them—leaving Johnny and Darrel standing awkwardly beside each other. 

“Do they always do that?” 

Johnny startles at the suddenness, glancing up at Darrel. He’s got a look in his eyes that Johnny can’t quite understand—some5hing akin to pity. “Huh?” He asks dumbly, furrowing his brows. 

“Do students always mess with you? Even the normal ones?” 

The question makes Johnny pause. The kids all treated him differently then the rest of the teachers—he’s so used to it that he often forgot just how differently they talk to him. 

“Yeah.” Johnny shrugs. “Doesn’t bother me none.”

Darrel grimaces.  “I hope you know we ain’t like that. They just like messing around—they don’t mean anything by it.” Darrel says after a few moments of silence. Johnny quickly realizes that he’s talking about the other troublemakers. “They aren’t all bad. Just—Rowdy, I guess.” He pauses, meeting Johnnys eyes finally. “You’re a lot less scary that Tim is. ‘Makes them think of you more like a friend then a teacher.”

Johnnys know not many people think of him as an adult, but—Ouch, man, way to rub it in. 

“I know.“ Johnnys shrugs. “I wasn’t the most well behaved kid either, I get it.” 

Darrel gives him an odd look but doesn’t say much else. The rest of the boys join them and they walk back to class. They get a little louder as they go down the stairs—trying to shove each-other down for shits and giggles. Steve knocks into Ponyboy on accident and makes him drop 99% of his lunch on the floor. 

“You dick!“ The youngest shouts, shoving him back. 

“Sorry, man, you were in the way.“ Steve says simply, snickering a little alongside Two-Bit. Ponyboy groans loudly, scooping all of his now inedible—the grounds here haven’t been washed in years—food onto the ground and tossing it in a trash can at the end of the stairwell. 

“I’ll give you some of mine.” Soda whispers, nudging him lightly. 

They get to the classroom and Soda hands Ponyboy a decent handful of fries before letting him walk back to his seat. Johnnys not sure why but he feels guilty—he doubts these boys are in a much better situation then he was growing up. Reluctantly, he pulls out his lunch and moves the water bottle and carrots off to the side.

He stood and handed the container with his actual meal to Ponyboy. Pony gives him an odd look, opens it, grimaces, and looks back up at him with a ‘what is this?’ look. 

“It’s cacciucco. Try it, you’ll like it.” Johnny says, handing him a fork and walking off. Darrel gives him a look that’s almost thankful before looking down at the food, matching Pony’s expression. Ponyboy looks up and Johnny—who’s watching him expectantly—before taking some of it on the food and putting it in his mouth. 

Johnnys fully aware that most of the people here think Italian food is just spaghetti and pizza—which, yeah he had a lot of both of those growing up… but there’s better stuff too.

Pony’s eyes go wide and he goes to take another bite, A few of the boys turn in watch in awe as he eats something that no doubt looks unappetizing. Two-Bit leans back and takes some before Ponyboy can stop him—squeezing his eyes shut like he’s preparing for something horrible, before nodding and whispering to the rest of them that it’s ‘actually really good’. 

Johnny’s happy to see them all try some and like it—Steve comments that Ponyboy should thank him, seeing as he wouldn’t have gotten it without him. 

By the time they’re done eating, Tim Shepard rolls around. He knocks on the door before walking in, effectively scaring all of them into thinking the vice principal is back. 

The boy’s all share exasperated looks when Tim peeks his head inside the room. Tim rolls his eyes, sauntering to Johnnys desk and looking out at them all before glancing back down at Johnny. “How’s the doghouse?” He askes, raising an amused brow.

“I dunno, haven’t been to your place in a while.” Johnny replies before he can stop himself. A few of the boys snicker—which reminds him that they are there—oops. Tim ignores his comment by sticking his tongue out at him before looking back up at the students. 

“You haven’t been too annoying, have you?” He announces to the room, squinting his eyes at Dallas and Two-Bit in particular. 

“They’ve been fine, Tim.“ Johnny says before Dallas can show the man a very specific hand gesture. “Whatever you say.” Tim says like he doesn’t believe him, shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s silent for a moment—Tim clearly wants to say something. Johnnys not sure if he wants to hear it. 

“Are you here for a reason or are you just bored?” He asks finally. Tim leans back on his desk, giving him a fake look of sadness. “Wow, can’t even make sure you’re okay without you yelling at me.” He complains, kicking Johnnys leg lightly just because he knows Johnny can’t do it back. “I actually am here for a reason, though.” 

Johnny raises a brow. 

“They we’re handing out shit for the teachers—y’know how they are around the holidays. Snagged us both some.” He says, pulling a bag of candy out of his back pocket. 

“Thanks,” Johnny smiles, tucking it into the desk. “I don’t think you have to ‘snag’ it, though, seeing as we are both teachers too.” Tim shrugs. “Old habits die hard.” He says simply. It takes a second for them both to notice everyone is staring at them. “What?” Tim asks loudly, tone changing to a more annoyed one that Johnny’s used to hearing. 

“Didn’t know you were capable of having a civil conversation.” Darry is the first to respond, raising his brows. Tim rolls his eyes, flipping him off before turning back to Johnny—who looks rather shocked. “You can’t just give the middle-finger to a student, Tim.” He says, exasperated, slapping the other on the arm. 

“Man, I’m telling you—the school board does not care with these guys.” Tim whispers, sparing a glance back. “I could go over there right now, and punch Dallas in the face. I promise you I wouldn’t even be suspended.” 

“Don’t talk about punching kids, Jesus.” Johnny whispers back, giving him an unapproving look. Tim just shrugs, pushing himself to his feet. “You boys, behave.” He says, pointing at each student individually before walking off. Dallas manages to actually flip him off this time, getting a stern glare from Johnny. "Hey—you mind feeding the needy, huh?" Steve asks the second time is gone, eyeing the chocolates. Johnny glances at him, glances at the chocolate, and looks back at him again. He takes one out of the bag and hands the rest to him. "Share with the other's, okay?" He says. Steve gives him a look like he's crazy—mainly because he didn't think Johnny'd actually give him any, especially the whole bag. "All of them?" He asks, raising a brow. Johnny just shrugs and goes back to his computer. 

The room gets bored quickly after that. They’ve gone through every movie worth watching, the coloring sheets are done, and Johnny doesn’t know what to do to entertain them. He could just give them the work—but as someone who had to do worksheets over Christmas break, he’s not really feeling like doing that.

Eventually they all start talking, it’s quiet enough that he can’t really hear what they’re saying, but he hears a snicker or two and immediately knows he should be worried. Two-Bit and Dallas stand up at once. “We have to go to the bathroom.” Two-Bit announces, barely holding back a giggle when Dallas smacks him. 

“Together?” Johnny asks, raising a brow. 

Neither one of them respond, looking at him expectantly. Johnny sighs and goes to call the office—the second the phone’s in his hand they both bolt, getting out of the door before Johnny even realizes they moved. He sits there and just gapes at the wide open door for a second. 

He spares one glance at the four still sitting there, before deciding that he’s just going to have to accept defeat and run after them. He stands and pulls the crutches up and under his arms. “Don’t. Move.” He commands, biting off the end of each word. They all nod but immediately stand to watch him leave by sticking their heads out of the door. 

“Is he gone?“ Ponyboy whispers, Johnny disappearing down the other end of the hall. “I dunno, Pony—What do you think?” Steve teases, rolling his eyes and re-entering the classroom. 

“Y’know, we could’ve just pretended we were talking to him and then steal the paper.” Darrel says, leaning on the door frame. “That would take all the fun out of it!” Sodapop smiles, sitting down at the teachers desk and rummaging through the papers. 

They all knew about the ‘naughty list’. Of course they did, every teacher who ever had to deal with them got one. None of them wanted to stay in school during Christmas break—Darry usually wouldn't allow this, but he had work and couldn't miss it. Sodapop and Steve go through the papers on the desk while Darrel and Pony keep watch for the door. They doubt Johnny's gonna catch either of them—but any other teacher could come barreling in here.  Their plan wasn't foolproof by any means. They were just gonna stash the paper someplace and hope Johnny doesn't notice until the end of the day—he doesn't seem like the kind of guy to actively try to get them in trouble, Darry thinks he's a bit of a doormat. If his employer talked to him the way Mr.Sheldon did, it'd be brought right to corporate.  "Found it!" Soda exclaims waving the paper around in the air. Steve snatches it from his hands to stash it—he pauses when he takes a good look at it, furrowing his brows. All three of the others simultaneously ask why he's doing it, crowding around them. Did he write scathing accounts of whatever they had done that day? Did he make up crazy things to get them in trouble? No.

In fact, he didn't write anything.  The paper was left exactly like it had been handed to him—aside from a few doodles on the margins.

"Huh?" Darrel mutters, taking it from Steve. He was sure his run to the bathroom would at least be mentioned. If he pulled that with Tim in charge he would've been dragged right to the office. "So we just did all of that for nothing?" Pony asks, crossing his arms. He hadn't done much of anything—Johnny didn't really talk, so he didn't even have the opportunity to say something snarky. And hey, he's not gonna be an ass to the guy who gave him free food.  "Looks like it.” Darrel mutters, setting the paper back down. “Maybe they gave him more than one.” Steve says, already going back to the now messy pile. “Surely.“ Soda agrees, joining him. 

They had gone through the whole stack and were in the middle of putting it back when Ponyboy jumps and starts whisper-yelling. “He’s coming!” He says frantically. “I just saw him at the end of the hall, hurry up!” 

They all bolt back to their desks, leaving some of the papers awry but hopefully not enough to be noticeable. 

Johnny walked in with Dallas and Two-Bit the collar, both bent in half because he couldn’t quite keep his arms up. Two practically face-plants when he lets go, scrambling back to his desk without a word. Dallas goes back to his desk as well, resting back on his hands. “Did you hide it?” He asks, looking back at Steve and Sodapop, only loud enough for them to hear.

”No—he didn’t write anything on it.”

”Seriously? Talk about a doormat.” Dallas scoffs, sparing a glance Johnny’s way. He sleeve was caught on his crutches and he was currently trying to pull them free. 

“Did he seriously catch you guys?” Ponyboy asked. Leaning forward to peak around his older brother. “Are you kidding? Of course not.” Dallas says, turning to face him fully. “Tim saw us and helped him out.” He pauses. “Do you seriously think that cripple could catch me? If the cops of New York City can’t—“

Dallas gets a tap on the shoulder—He gives Two-Bit and odd look, but the redhead is just staring forward. Dallas turns to see what he’s looking at. Johnny is glaring at him, he’d no doubt heard what he said. 

“My bad, man.” Dallas shrugs, turning to face him fully. “You get it though, right? It’s not like you don’t know your legs are fucked up.” 

Darrel gives him a hefty smack on the back of the head for that comment. But of course, Dallas takes note that he’s getting under the man’s skin—he can’t help but see how far he can go. 

“He’s been a cripple his whole life, it’s not like he’s not used to it. It’s just the truth.” Dallas says to Darrel, turning only he head to look back at him. “I mean, even if he could walk right—he’s like 5’2, he couldn’t catch me anyway.” When he faces forward again—Johnny’s right there. 

He gets a slap so hard that the sound reverberates off the walls—there’s a red handprint on his cheek, and the skin is hot to the touch when he reaches up to touch the stinging skin in disbelief. 

“Don’t you dare call me that again.” Johnny bites, a tone that’s uncharacteristic for him. “I am not a cripple, I am not a child,” he glances up at the rest of the room. “and I certainly don’t need pity from a bunch of angsty teenagers who can’t seem to keep their shit together for more than ten minutes.” Everything is said in a cold, biting tone. Every boy in the room sits and watches with wide eyes and open mouths. 

“And by the way, you clearly aren’t that hard to catch—seeing as you’ve been in prison six times in the last 8 months.” He practically sneers, his hands curling into fists. “Now sit down, do your work, and stop acting like the drop-outs everyone knows you’re gonna be.” 

He doesn’t give the blonde a moment to respond, going and sitting back at his desk. Dallas sits there for a moment, gaping with his hand still on his cheek. Just as he’s about to get up and give the man a piece of his mind, he hears slow clapping from the doorway. 

Tim leans against the frame, clapping slowly and giving Johnny a surprised-yet-proud smile. “See, this is why I like this guy.” He laughs, standing up. “John, can I talk to your for a second?” 

Johnny sighs but stands up, giving the room one final glare before heading outside and slamming the door shut behind him. It takes only a single second before they stand and go the door, trying to hear their conversation. 

“You alright?” Tim asks, nudging him.

”Of course I’m alright.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “We weren’t that obnoxious when we were kids, were we?” 

“You weren’t, I probably was.” Tim chuckles. 

“I just don’t get it—When I was their age, I couldn’t stand it if an adult didn’t like me.” Johnny says, tightening his fingers around his biceps. “Did I do something to make them hate me? Am I that annoying?”

Tim scoffs, smacking him upside the head lightly. “Don’t say shit like that.” He scowls, shaking his head. “And no, you’re not. They were worse with me when I first came around. Honestly, they still probably treat you better than they do with me.” Tim pauses, glancing down at the boy. “They all didn’t deal with uh—what you did, y’know? It’s still a miracle to me that you weren’t just like they were.” 

Johnny rolls his eyes. “The only reason I ever did anything right was to get out of that house.” He shrugs. “Besides, the only reason they treat me better than you is because they pity me. And yet, I don’t think I’ve ever been called a cripple more times in my life.”

Tim sighs, glancing back at the door. “I can smack ‘em all real good for you, if you need.”

”I kinda already did.” Johnny scratches the back of his neck. “I oughta apologize, huh?”

”Did he apologize to you?” He says it like he knows who it was—but then again, he could probably guess. Even if he didn’t have a bright red handprint on his face, Dallas’ll always be an asshole. Johnny thinks for a moment and shakes his head. “Then don’t apologize to him. Lord knows he doesn’t deserve it.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything, furrowing his brows. 

“I got something that’ll get you in a better mood.” Tim says finally. “How about you come over to mine tonight, huh? Curl’s has been missing you.” 

“Has he?” Johnny laughs. “Guess I can’t say no to that, huh?”

”No, you can’t.” Tim says matter-of-factly. “I’ll see you tonight, good luck.” 

Back in the room, the boys all listened with the same horrified looks on their faces that they had earlier. 

“Good going, Dal.” Pony says, kicking him lightly. “You pissed off the one teacher that wasn’t an ass.”

”Watch your mouth, Pony.“ Darrel scolds before he can stop himself. “You’d better apologize to him, Dallas.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I will.” He mutters—trying and failing to hide that he was a little upset with himself too. “I didn’t think he’d care that much.”

”Bullshit.” Steve says, rolling his eyes and getting back to his seat. They all are sat by the time Johnny enters the room again. He gives them all a suspicious look before heading back to his desk, squinting his eyes at the messed up papers. “Did you guys mess with these?” He askes. 

Ponyboy, fearing a slap of his own, quickly shouts—

“No sir!” 

Johny just gives him an odd look before putting everything in a neat stack and carrying on. The room is deathly silent for a few minutes—all of them refusing to speak or move. They all stare at him expectantly, jumping when the man lifts his head up. 

He sighs, pushing himself to his feet, foregoing the crutches and just leaning on the desk. 

“I apologize for my outburst.” He says, giving an awkward smile. 

“Dallas deserved it—“ Two-Bit begins, getting a loud smack on the back of his head from the blonde beside him. Johnny can’t help but laugh, shaking his head. 

He spares a glance out the window and smiles, an idea forming in his head. “How about I make it up to you, huh?” He says, catching everyone’s attention. “We might be able to sneak outside if anyones quiet in the hallway. I’m sure Tim’ll cover for me.”

It’d been snowing for the last few days—it was finally starting to stick and was at just the right height to go outside in. While just about all of them were much too old to go outside and play in the snow, they all jumped at the opportunity. 

“Really?” Ponyboy asks excitedly, causing his brother to laugh. 

“Eh, why not.” Johnny shrugs. 

The group immediately stands and begin to talk excitedly—no teachers have let them play outside in the snow since elementary. Johnny ducks around the desk and grabs his crutches, struggling to get them under his arm while the boys all but tug him along. Darry shoos them all away—he attempts to help Johnny walk, only to be shoved off. 

“I can walk just fine.” Johnny says, glaring at him before he can stop himself. Darry blinks at him for a moment before nodding, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “So empowering.” Two-Bit snickers, getting shoved half-way to the ground for it. Johnnys barely able to grab his jacket from his chair before he’s dragged out of the room like a rag doll. 

They all head out of the classroom quietly. Once again, the boys seem to walk around Johnny in a protective circle of some kind. He can’t help but roll his eyes.  Johnny ducks his head in Tim’s classroom and all but begs him to cover for them—to which he says he’ll try his best. They all grab their gloves and scarves out of their lockers, Darry has to strangle Dallas with one until he wears it. Johnny let’s Steve and Soda sneak into the gym and steal a football before they all head outside. 

Johnny takes them out to the football field—which is just far away enough from the office for no authority to see them but close enough to be on campus. Johnny opens it with his keys and lets them all inside, shutting the fence gate behind them. He lets them all run off—Ponyboy face-plants within minutes, and Dallas is already trying to climb the fence and leave.

Its just tall enough that he knows nobody’ll make it—Johnny’d climbed a lot of fences as a kid, he knew the right heights that wouldn’t let anyway through. Eventually Dallas gave up and joined the rest of them. 

Darry soon joined Johnny on the sidelines, watching the boys play. 

“You’re not gonna join them?” The older asks, gesturing to the group currently tossing a football back and forth. Darry scoffs, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m too old to be playing in the snow.” He says, shaking his head. 

“Are you now?” Johnny asks with a laugh—in his eyes, all of them are kids. Darrel doesn’t quite seem to like that. “I don’t see what you’re laughing about. If you joined in every’d think you were Pony’s age.” 

Johnny pauses, furrowing his brows and looking up at him. “Hey, I’m still an adult, y’know. You’d better watch what you say.” He says with no real malice behind it. Darrel raises a brow. “You’re only a few years older than me.”

Johnny squints up at him. “I’m three years younger than you.” Darrel adds, making the other all-but gasp. “Huh? Aren’t you a little old to be a senior, then?” Johnny asks, looking him up and down.

Darry seems to think for a second—like he’s deciding if he wants to say something. Finally, he does. “I had to take a gap year because my parents died.” He pauses. “Someone had to provide for the family.”

Johnny looks utterly horrified, ducking his head down quickly. “Oh my good—I’m so sorry, I didn’t—“

Darrel laughs, ruffling his hair—if he hasn’t just got the ‘dead parents’ answer, Johnny would smack him just as hard as he smacked Dallas. “It’s alright.” Says Darrel, still laughing. They are silent for a second, Johnnys face still masked in absolute horror. 

“Since we’re asking personal questions,” Darry says finally, looking down at the other. “How exactly did you get you crutches? It doesn’t seem like you’ve always had them.” 

Johnny grimaces. 1, because he pretty much just said it’s clear Johnny has no clue what he’s doing. 2, because he’d rather have a heart attack and die then answer that damn question. “That’s too personal. I’m not telling a student that.” He says simply, shaking his head. 

“You asked me about my dead parents.”

Johnnys gapes. “That’s because I didn’t—“ He cuts himself off with a loud sigh, his body tensing when Darry looks at him expectantly. “My dad drove me off a cliff after my graduation.” 

Now, It’s Darrel’s turn to look horrified. 

“Oh.” He mutters, averting his gaze. “Did he…mean to?” He asks, quickly adding—“I’m sorry, I should ask that—“

”Of course he did.” Johnny says like it’s no big deal, kicking his feet in the snow. “I think he wanted to kill me. He never did like me much.” 

Darry stares at him for a long while, Johnny refusing to look him in the eye. He’s not quite sure why he told the boy that—he really wished he just lied.   “I heard what you and Tim were saying to eachother.” Darry says finally.  Johnny shrugs. “I figured there was a reason you guys were being so nice to me.”  ”It’s not—“

”Pity?” Johnny askes, raising his brow and finally look at him. Darry makes a guilty face before he can stop himself. “It’s okay, man, I’m used to pity by now.” Johnny gives him a sweet smile. “I mean, look at me!” 

Darry just grimaces, shaking his head. He looks like he wants to say something else but keeps his mouth shut. Johnnys already looking around for an excuse to get out of this conversation, Steve and Soda give him an excuse—wrestling in the snow. 

“Hey!” He calls, taking a step forward. They both pause, look at him, an then get right back to it. Johnny rolls his eyes, walking up to them and managing to pull Soda off of him. “None of that, okay? If any of you get hurt, I’ll get in trouble.” 

Soda gives him a guilty look. 

Johnny raises an expectant brow.

”We won’t!” Steve says finally, pulling himself to his feet. Soda nods quickly. Johnny just rolls his eyes, giving them one lalook before going back to the sidelines. 

Darrels looking at him with wide eyes—Johnny doesn’t have to wonder why for long. 

“Your jacket—“ he says, furrowing his brows. Johnny gives him a confused look before looking begins himself—he’s wearing his college’s varsity jacket, since it’s the warmest one he owns. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Did you go there?”

Johnny gives him an odd look—why would he wear a jacket for a college he didn’t even go to? He had done his last two years of High-school in America, and ended up getting a full-ride to The University of Oklahoma—more specifically, the Norman campus. 

“Yeah, man.” Johnny laughs. “Why do you ask?”

”I uh—“ Darrel rights himself, like he’s trying not to fangirl. “It’s where I want to go. I heard they had a really good football team.” He says, shrugging. Johnny glances up at him, smiling. “They were pretty good, as much as I remember.” He says—it’s clear Darrel wants to ask, so he keeps going. “I bet you have a chance—I got in on a full-ride soccer scholarship, and I wasn’t half as good as you are at football.”

Darrel gives a weird look—Johnny can’t help but get defensive. 

“I wasn’t always on crutches! I wasn’t a pity player, I swear.” 

“That’s not why I looked at you like that.” Darrel says, looking him up and down. “You got a full-ride sports scholarship and you…chose to be a teacher?” 

That catches Johnny off guard. He knows that it’s becoming more and more obvious to the general public that teachers make shit salaries, but he’s never had a kid comment on it….to his face. His mouth opens and closes for a minute. “Well—I can’t exactly play soccer, can I?” He says finally, making the other laugh. 

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.” Darrel rights himself—giving Johnny a guilty look. “It’s okay, you were supposed to.” Johnny shrugs, leaning back and forth on the balls of his feet. 

They’re silent for a few minutes, watching the rest of the boys tackle each other and lug a football at each other's heads. It’s cLear Darrel wants to say something, he waits until Johnny’s messing with the rubber handle of his crutches. 

“If it’s you jacket, why’s it so big?” Darrel asks finally, glancing down at him. 

Okay, ouch. 

“Well, uh…” Johnny scratches the back of his neck. “I couldn’t really afford me own… I got this one for free—but I didn’t get to choose the size.” 

Darrel gives him a look that he can’t quite comprehend, he’s spared a look Dallas’s way. Not that he has time to wonder what that means, it seems the second he’s looking away they’re already plotting against him again. 

He feels the biting cold of the snow before he realizes he’s laying face first in it. Someone’s on top of him—Jesus, this guy needs to lose some weight—and rolls off just as fast as he jumped onto him. 

Johnny hears a loud bout of laughter and realizes it’s Two-Bit, pushing himself up to a kneel and seeing firey red hair. “Sorry man!” Two manages between laughter. “You just—God! That was funny!” 

Johnny blinks at him twice before rolling his eyes. 

He goes to stand, someone grabbing his arm and dragging him to his feet. He can’t help that yelp that leaves his mouth at the unexpected contact. He looks at the perpetrator, seeing Dallas Winston of all people. Dallas hands him his crutches without looking at him, kicking Two-Bit in the ribs twice as he scrambles to his feet. 

“Uh—Thanks.” Johnny mutters, getting his arms back in the crutch. 

“No problem. He’s an asshole.” Dallas shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets quickly. Johnny watches and sees his shiver, frowning. Dallas doesn’t have a scarf, gloves, or a hat like the rest of them do. He’s got a thick leather jacket, dark jeans, and cowboy boots. And as someone who grew up wearing something similar in this weather, Johnny can’t help but feel bad. 

“Are your hands cold?” He asks. Dallas opens his mouth—no doubt to say no—but Johnny has already taken his off and has them thrusted towards his chest. Dallas blinks one, twice, then shoved them back towards him. “Those want fit me.” He says like a petulant child, shoving his hands in his pockets again. 

There’s an odd look on his face—one that only got worse when Johnny handed him his gloves. It takes him a moment to understand what it is. 

Guilt.

Dallas let’s out a sigh, rolling his shoulders like he’s gearing up to talk. 

“Look,” he begins. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier—I was being a douche.”

Johnny has to stop himself from gasping. Dallas was known for never apologizing—he kicked a pregnant teacher in the stomach in sixth grade, when the principal told him he could’ve hurt the baby, he said she could just open her legs and make another just as easy. Last year he slammed a kids head into the locker so hard that it gave him a concussion, and he just shrugged it off.

One glance to the left and he can see Darry pretending not to watch them, he’s sure that the other is making Dallas do this. 

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” He quickly realizes that’s not the argument he thought it was. Dallas looks even more miserable, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t be, man. It ain’t right to say shit like that.” He pauses, finally making eye contact. “Darry uh—told me what happened.”

It doesn’t take Johnny long to realize he means the crash. He’s about to send a glare that boy’s way, before realizing there is no way he could’ve told Dallas that in the amount of time it took Two-Bit to get off of him. He was definitely listening to their conversation. Little creep.

“It’s nothing to feel bad about.” Johnny says, not looking at him. “You’re a kid, it’s kinda’ your job to talk bad about adults, huh?”

Dallas blinks at him. “You really don’t care?”

Johnny just shrugs. 

It takes Dallas a moment to do anything. He digs a hand in his back pocket and pulls out two twenty’s. “I stole this when you weren’t looking.” He says guiltily, letting Johnny snatch it from his hands and tuck it back in his wallet. “I can’t even hate this, it’s pretty impressive.” Johnny was sure he hadn’t turned his back to Dallas for more than two seconds. 

Dallas, once again, looking utterly confused when he just accepts it. 

He spares a glance behind Johnny’s head, rolling his eyes. “Hey,” he says, nodding to the space behind him. “You might wanna duck.” he says simply. Johnny has no time to react. Dallas grabs him by the jacket collar and tugs him down. When he’s let go, he notices a crushed snowball rolling down his chest. 

“Thanks.” Johnny can’t help but laugh, sparing a glance back at a petrified Steve. Dallas shrugs. “Guess I owe ya’.” 

Johnny looks at him confusedly. 

“You never filled out the list.”

“Huh?” Johnny mutters, still very much not catching on. 

“The list of shit we did? You didn’t write anything down.” Dallas explains, raising a brow. Johnny blinks—when did they get a look at that? 

“Well, you guys didn’t do anything that bad. Not compared to what I expected, at-least.” Johnny shrugs. Dallas once again gives him that guilty look. “That little stunt you and Two-Bit did, running through the halls, pushed me very close to writing something down.”

Dallas looks like he wants to smile but then steels his gaze. Does this guy always try to intimidate the people he’s apologizing to? Because he’s doing a damn good job. “Just because you expected it, don’t mean it’s right.” Dallas says coldly. 

“So… what you’re saying is that you want me to fill it out?” Johnny teases, raising a brow. Dallas opens his mouth to speak, getting a snowball to the side of his face. “Don’t you dare!” Soda, the one who threw it, calls. Dallas wipes the snow off his face and immediately goes to chase the blonde down.

Meanwhile, somewhere across the field, Darrel leans up against the fence. Someone grabs him from behind—he reels around, ready to punch the anonymous person in the face before he sees familiar head of blonde hair.

”Paul?” He asked, confused. “What are you doing here?” 

Paul shrugs. “Got out early.” He says, glancing at the group outside. “What about you? Who let you guys out here?” Darry opens his mouth to speak—but Paul sees him before Darry can answer. “Jeez—that guy, huh?” He grimaces.

Darrel frowns. “What about him?”

“I’ve only had him once or twice.” Paul shrugs, seemingly noticing Darrel’s change in demeanor. ”Theres nothing wrong with him, I mean, other than the obvious.” Paul laughs, cutting it off awkwardly when Darry doesn’t join him. “Y’know, some of the fella’s dads used to go to school with him. Apparently he used to not be able to speak a lick of English.” 

Darry had noticed his accent—but honestly he never would’ve assumed English wasn’t Johnny’s first language. “Good for him, English is hard to learn.” He shrugs. 

Paul deflates a little when he notices Darrel isn’t joining him. Darry’s never been one to make fun of people—but he’ll laugh along if it’s his friends. He’s definitely gotten more stoic ever since his folks died. 

“Let me know if you guys need help messing with him—what did we do last time, key their car?” Paul smiles, nudging him. Darry grimaces. “We’re planning on leaving him alone.” He shrugs. Paul gives him an odd look. “What, Cus’ of his legs? Y’know I think he’d be upset to hear that.“

Darry frowns. “It’s not pity.” He says quickly, too defensively. Paul’s always been good about picking up whats going on with him. 

“Then, what? You taking a liking to the cripple or something?” Paul asks, rolling his eyes when Darry doesn’t answer. “You’ve got a bleeding heart, man.”

Darry wants to defend him—slap Paul I’m the face for calling him that like he did when he called Ponyboy a loser to his face. He hates that he wants to treat Johnny like his little brother. He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need protection. Yet…

”You better watch what you say about him. He slapped Dallas across the face earlier.” 

Paul’s eyes go wide. “Seriously?!” He asks, leaning over the fence to squint at Johnny. “And I thought he was a doormat!” Paul chuckles. “I always thought you were gonna be the first to smack some sense into him.” 

“I still might.” Darry shrugs. 

Paul just chuckles, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Well, call me if you change your mind.” He says, walking off before Darry could answer. Darry just rolls his eyes playfully, turning back to the group. He turns just in time to see Soda frantically trying to escape Dallas Winston. Johnny blows a whistle with his finger just in time—making them all pause and turn to him—Darry might have to steal that tactic. 

“We gotta head back inside.” He calls loud enough for them all to hear.

They all wipe the snow off of themselves as they walk back to the building, following behind the oldest like a bunch of lost dogs. Johnny instructs them all to wipe their shoes off at the door—something Darry’s been trying to get them to do for years, but they listen only now. They make it back to the classroom without a hitch, just moments before the bell rings. 

Johnny startles at the sudden sound, laughing. “Right on time, guys.” He says, pulling his jacket off. None of the boys get up to leave—Johnny gives them an odd look when he notices. 

“Are you guys okay—“ he begins, cut off when half the group come barreling towards him. Ponyboy, Two-Bit, Steve, and Soda all run to him and pull him into a big group hug, Darrel and Dallas watching with a roll of their eyes. Two-But lifts Johnny clean off the ground. “We’re gonna miss you, man!” The redhead cries like a lady who’s husband is going off to war. Johnny frantically tries to push him off, very clearly not happy about his feet not being on the ground. 

“Okay, okay, let go!” Johnny cries finally, Two-But dropping him quickly, careful not to hurt him. “You all realize I still work here, right?” 

“It won’t be the same.” Ponyboy frowns. “Tim’s gonna be in here again…” 

Johnny can’t help but laugh, ruffling the boys hair. “I’ll tell him to cut you guys some slack, okay?” 

They all thank him hopefully—they he’ll still be the worst, it’s Tim Shepard after all, but maybe he’ll let them off easy once or twice. They all leave solemnly, trying to stay behind as long as they can. Darry’s the last out—partly to make sure none of the try to stay behind. Johnny’s a breath of fresh air for most of them, since the moment saw him they liked him more than the other teachers. 

“Thank you.” Darrel finds himself saying, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, you guys ask like I found the cure for cancer.” Johny laughs, crossing his arms. “I’m just doing my job.” 

“Very well, I’d say.” Darrel smiles. “I mean it, though. I don’t think they’re that well-behaved even with me.” 

Johnny gives him a guilty look. 

Darrel begins to walk to the door, hanging behind a few extra seconds. “Can I…?” He trails off, holding his arms out. Johnny blinks when he realizes he’s asking for a hug. Johnny just shrugs, hugging him first. “Have a good holiday for me, yeah?” He says, smiling. Darry can’t help but smile as well. “I will.” He says. 

Darrel’s not used to being this open around adults—his cheeks burn red when Johnny gives him an odd look, he quickly realizes he’s blocking the door. “Sorry—“ he mutters frantically, stepping out of the way. Johnny just laughs. “You guys are some weird kids, y’know that?” 

Darry just nods, giving him one final goodbye. 

Johnny doesn’t notice something in his pocket until he’s home. He’s reaching to get his keys, a few papers falling out of his pocket. He does his best to bend over and grab them.

Unfolding them, he finds the silly coloring sheets he had given the boys earlier. Darry must’ve slipped them into his pocket when they hugged. Johnny can’t help but smile, already planning on hanging them on his fridge. 

Maybe he doesn’t hate teenagers as much as he thought he did. 

Johnny’s often asked about how he ever got the six most troublesome kids to listen to him—it got out quickly that they had a soft spot for him, especially when they always begged Tim to swap out with Johnny whenever he substituted for them. Every time he got the question he’d just shrug. 

“Guess I got lucky.” He’d say. 

[alicenpai]

🌟 ART SUMMARY 2024 🥂

this was a year where i didnt draw a lot, despite that, i tried to make every drawing count. thank you all for the support in 2024, here's to 2025 ! 🫶

⭐ [read more starts here]

i continued my goals from last year with regards to perfectionism. the tldr is that i strongly feel my perfectionism kept me away from completing as many drawings as i could, and i had to make an effort to just finish drawings no matter how lukewarm I felt about them. 2024 was a strange year, it came and went in the blink of an eye, even more than previous years! life has been stressful, so i've been trying to focus more on myself and taking time off drawing. ironic, although i think i succeeded in that above goal, i expected to get more drawings out of it, but ended up taking more time off drawing anyways. towards the end of the year, i started feeling more burnt out, and drawing became a slow and arduous process. i think part of the reason was because 2024 was my first year doing 5 events - 2 full weekend conventions (anime north and otakuthon), and 3 single day events (bamtori fall aapi market, toronto game expo, bamtori jinglebam market), when in the past 2 years i'd just opt to do 1-2 local cons. it was also my first time doing single day events, which were super chill! although you have to both set up and tear down on the same day, i felt more casual at those events, had more time to chat and look around. back to my point - despite being fun, doing so many events took its toll on me - especially during the colder months of the year, where i wasn't so used to going to events haha! usually i take fall as the time to rejuvenate and recover from summer events, but i couldn't really do that this year. i kept questioning myself, "does this drawing have appeal? will people buy this?" "is my art hireable?" and it's just not a healthy mindset to have. next year i'll try to draw more of what i enjoy and what's on my mind, instead of worrying too much if it's sellable! *feeling like the HAHA YES sickos meme* - 2025 art goals outlined below: - oc zine (aiming for a character guide with some test comics) - character interactions & poses! e.g. dancing, hugs - generally stuff that's more difficult to draw. my art is more illustrative, but sometimes i wished it was more engaging emotionally? like i want people to smile and cry with my characters... - illustrations that challenge me. when i say illusts that challenge me it's pretty abstract - do research and gather inspiration for every illust.. compositions that are difficult/complex and take a while to draft.. strong theme.. it's more for me to understand AHAHAHA. as the years go by you can see my art becoming more unified in theme and self indulgent... i want to keep going, i want to make art that is uniquely mine. less priority: - get used to sketching! truly miss how i used to fill up sketchbooks every year - sticker sheets (this is on the less priority list bc i will probably fulfill this goal regardless) - oc merch (happy with the stickers i made in the last 2 yrs, let's keep going!) - silly things! e.g. 4koma, silly doodles. comedy is an art, it IS a skill you can study and chip away at (e.g. comedians and comedy writers). make sure i take notes on really stand-out jokes i find funny & why

other various things to try and draw more of: - group pictures - animals - layouts and props. i find layouts and anything with hard surfaces difficult to draw, which is why i draw a lot of flowers and fabric LMAO. one thing i gotta do is start by either drawing characters holding props more (easy baby steps!) and/ or start drawing props around them and make my way towards harder things (e.g. practice drawing a character sitting, i'll start by drawing a simple chair, then a table, then objects on that table). this is also one of my weaknesses - draw the ground they're standing on if possible, e.g. characters standing on a grid - vehicles, if i can. i mostly draw stuff from fantasy series where cars don't exist LOL but i'll try...

[kimberlygbart]

Role Swap AU Masterpost

If you're old enough in my blog then you remember [this]

Yeah in the end I never even updated that, it's almost a year since the mod was actually released but hey I'm here!

This also might be the last post regarding the AU. It's over fr, I've reached my dream in wanting to release a mod of it and getting fanart sooo yay, the AU is done for, but dw! I've kept Whitmore, turned him into an OC.

If I don't forget to post again lol Y'all will see more of him!

Anyways here is the mod!!!

Above it's all art I've made for it alongside a GIF :P

And below the cut, you will find more links, such as gameplay and all the music! INCLUDING the full-ass complete lore of the AU!

ya that's right!! Community game played my game ain't that crazy! Okay so here is all you need to know:

This is an AU where Whitty (now who's referred as Whitmore as his last name only) and Updike (Gabriel in this AU, he doesn't know his last name or anything since he was abandoned) switch places. ONLY they do in this AU, all others stay the same. Conrad Whitmore was raised by The Greater Good (similar concept to SCP) after being found in abandoned and crashed down lab as a doomsday experiment. TGG saw him as an useful tool Being fed well and trained since childhood, he's naturally taller and bigger than average Whitty. Also more tired. Just because Conrad had a good childhood doesn't mean he was free of trauma btw ☝ He had many experiments done on him such as vivisectomy, endoscopy and multiple blood tests and even organ removals, however he was often manipulated by TGG into doing this of free will, ever since as a kid.

For those who ask "well what about Carol? Does she still date the Whitty from this universe?" yes she did! Hex and Carol are/were still Conrad's closest people he has had in his life But Carol eventually broke up with Conrad once she learnt the true nature of his job. A big rift developes between them, with her trying to desperately convince him TGG is not the better solution it claims to be, while Conrad defends it with his life for is the only thing he knows. Their fights escalate a lot, until she visits him in his office. Needless to say it didn't go well.

I have an animatic as well! In a resume, their (verbal) fights gets him so agitated, he enters his ballistic stage where he hasn't felt that in years besides while a kid. And during his rage he pulls the trigger while Carol calls him names (monster being one). TGG covers the crime, the lyrics are important btw!

This all happened when Conrad was 21, Carol's death is tragic enough he enter a depressive episode + is taken back to his 'original bunker house' (where he was raised) by TGG for 5 years for reevaluation. Hex is the only one who knows what happened because Conrad told him. That's pretty much the lore? I think? UH anywasy tldr I became so attached to Conrad I've scrapped the 'swap' alternate reality of it and turned him into Whitty's twin brother (and Carol isn't dead there).

Also out of respect for Sock.Clip, Gabriel, or TGG no longer exists, I'm just dumping this here to be registered in my tumblr since it was the only social media I never uploaded the lore of my AU completely. But yes, swap whitty is fully dead, ofc ppl can make art for it duh, I just mean I won't be making content of it ever again, Conrad instead is being brought to the 'original' fnf world, and will be currently Whitty's twin, but his lore or story has been completely rebooted.

Thank you for reading all this damn ur a true homie!!!

[the-wandering-wayseeker]

Tumblr needs to stop recommending me posts where people are groaning about Ahsoka confirming anyone can use the Force and then proving immediately they have no idea what they're talking about.

"Well if anyone can use the Force, why would the Jedi reject anyone?" Huyang literally says why. Since the Old Republic, anyone below a certain threshold wouldn't even be considered. Their training would take far too long - if they even made progress at all.

Also, the Jedi weren't just going around blood testing anyone and everyone for their Midichlorian counts. They would seek out cases of interest. Qui-Gon did not immediately blood test Anakin. Not until he realized that Anakin likely was Force Sensitive.

As for those found through the trance-like state some Jedi would go into to seek younglings out, I imagine that still wasn't a process that named anyone and everyone.

We're also ignoring the fact that despite Anakin having such a high Midichlorian count, the Council didn't want him trained anyway - he was too old. Jedi began training at a young age for multiple reasons.

Even if someone was taken back to the temple, they still had to make it through the intiate/youngling phase. They still had to show they were capable enough to move on to be a Jedi Padawan. Those that weren't were given the opportunity to join the Service Corps or straight up told to go home.

This hasn't been said yet, but I imagine the Jedi minimum was established because that was the average threshold where most of their candidates weren't getting sent home.

TLDR: Sabine was clearly the exception. Not the rule. Media literacy is dead.

Also, this wasn't about any single person's post. There were a few.

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE C

*NOTE; tie sweeps require a 50/50 with a 0.2 margin. additionally, the extra propaganda is at the very bottom, with it being kinda funky

Harrowhark Propaganda:

She gave herself a lobotomy and gives completely incorrect flashbacks to the previous book. Things that straight up did not happen. Gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

She’s schizophrenic (confirmed by the author) and also lives in a world with necromancy and ghostly revenants. She’s not just an unreliable narrator for readers, she’s an unreliable narrator of her own internal experience. She knows this and has to work with people around her to compensate for it. Descent into spoilerville below. Seriously Do Not Read if you want to read these books. There’s also the little matter about how she is *not actually the narrator* of a huge chunk of the story that we are initially led to believe is being told from her perspective.

(Spoilers) Holy shit she is THE most unreliable narrator. This gremlin gave herself a lobotomy so that she could forget about Gideon Nav, the most important person in her life (for magic soul-preserving reasons) so half of the second book in the series is spent gaslighting the reader about a book they just read. She comes up with an entire alternate version of the events of the first book in the series to carefully exclude any mentions of Gideon, and any time someone says ‘Gideon’ in front of her she LITERALLY has a stroke and/or an intercranial hemorrhage as her brain overwrites the word with someone else’s name. God occasionally intentionally triggers her memory revision to get out of difficult conversations. She also hallucinates ALL the time (unrelated to the lobotomy). She shows up at her frenemy’s room in the middle of the night (think little kid stumbling to their parents’ room and saying “I frew up”) to ask her to come check underneath her bed for the corpse that’s been wandering the space station. When frenemy checks underneath the bed, frenemy claims not to see anything, and Harrow is such an unbelievably unreliable narrator that it’s an open question in the fandom as to whether frenemy genuinely didn’t see the corpse or if frenemy was just yanking Harrow’s chain. Harrow is also haunted by a literal ghost that fucks up her already fucked up alternate history. Girlie will pick up a piece of paper and read from it the most violent and haunting piece of prose ever composed, when in reality all that’s written on the paper is the elementary school Superman S*. I am NOT joking that is a real goddamn scene. Harrow was created to win this poll. TLDR; she has brain damage and memory loss, she hallucinates, and is also haunted. * https://twitter.com/vestenet/status/1301012651145859072

Girl is so unreliable, she unreliably tells me events I was there for!!! She's retelling the previous book and I'm like "girlie, this is absolutely not how it happened". Also, she gave herself a DIY lobotomy, it has to impact your memory center I guess

She literally had a lobotomy, how can she be reliable

Gideon Nav Propaganda:

(Spoilers for Ht9) She just. Fully ignores most of the magic plot happening around her in the first boom to be a dyke. In the second book it’s even less reliable and it’s fully fucking insane. It’s first person but she’s telling YOU (harrow) what is happening and it’s impossible to decipher. The appearance and personality of every character is fully morphed by Gideon’s mean dykishness.

MASSIVE spoilers. Like even mentioning that this is a thing is a huge fucking spoiler. I normally don’t care about spoilers that much but I legitimately feel awful for anyone with even a passing interest in reading these books who has this spoiled for them. Anyway. Yeah turns out the second-person narration is actually a first-person narration by the dead girl living in Harrow’s head whose death traumatized Harrow (and the entire fandom) so badly that she literally lobotomized herself to forget it and give Gideon a chance at not having her soul digested.

constantly adds her own commentary, does not pay attention to the interesting moving parts of the plot bc she's too busy looking at pretty girls, cannot be trusted to read her own intentions correctly never mind anyone else's. I love her dearly

she just doesn’t notice or doesn’t give a shit about a ton of plot-essential information. Harrow and Palamedes are talking about a necromantic theorem that would blow open the entire story if we could hear them? You can instantly feel Gideon’s eyes glaze over and her mind wander to the nearest available hot girl, and our attention goes with her. It’s handled so smoothly that you might not even notice it happening until a second or third read.

More Propaganda under cut!

Harrowhark:

Harrowhark is simply the unreliable narrator of all time. Can’t remember shit because of a lifetime of trauma? Check. Maybe lying to yourself and those around you a bit? Most definitely. Being gaslit by the survivors you depend on to orient you to reality? For sure. How about a little bit of canon schizophrenia? She’s got it all. Ghosts? Or something? Spirits that are attached in some way to your body and are not perceivable by others? Sure, sure! But how about spirits that are attached in some way to your body and are gonna use you to hijack others’ bodies and maybe kill God, too? Absolutely. Wee bit of DIY brain surgery? If it would make you an unreliable narrator, friends, then Harrowhark Nonagesimus has been there, been subjected to that!

Okay I don't know that much about this series since I haven't convinced myself to read all of the first book, but this is my blorbo in law so I'd feel bad not spreading propaganda (all of what I'm saying is something I've read, as to prevent myself from straight up submitting misinformation). So all of Harrow's unreliable narration takes place in the second book, Harrow the Ninth. Basically, without her even seemingto acknowledge it, Harrow's brain is very fucked up during this book, to the point where even she's not sure how reliable her narrative is. There's many questions left unclear as a result of her fucked up little brain, like what's real, what's fake, whether we can trust her judgement, whether even she can trust her own judgement, whether her original cavalier is dead or not (Harrow is convinced she is), etc. Let me tell you, I adore unreliable narrators who aren't even that sure if they're reliable. I have yet to eat that trope up here in this circumstance, but this poll might not run again by the time I do, so for now, here's my messed up blorbo in law.

OKAY SO REMEMBER MY GIDEON SUBMISSION? HARROW DOESN’T! SPOILERS AHEAD BECAUSE SHE LOBOTOMIZED HERSELF TO FORGET GIDEON BECAUSE THAT’S A HEALTHY WAY TO GRIEVE AND THEN IN THE ONLY PARTS OF HER BOOK THAT SHE NARRATES (THE REVISED CANAAN HOUSE PARTS) IT’S LITERALLY A ROOM FULL OF GHOSTS HER BRAIN SUMMONED TO DEAL WITH THE FACT THAT SHE CUT HER BRAIN IN HALF TO FORGET GIDEON. she also is a) haunted and b) psychotic, experiencing hallucinations her entire life of both the ghosts haunting her and less supernatural hallucinations- bells tolling, bones rattling, her parents (some of the only dead people NOT haunting her), etc! in the revised history of canaan house that her brainghosts invent, she brings along someone who knows about her psychosis to help reality check her when she tells him go! her caregiver as a child and support when she got older, crux, is a horrible man- but at one point, when someone other than harrow is in harrow’s body and tells him “i am not harrowhark, i am sorry,” his response is simply “aye, you’ve said that before too. who are you then, if not my lady harrowhark?” showing his familiarity with her psychosis and his love for the child he wouldn’t dare see as a daughter. but enough about that lets talk about her unreliable narration! she lies about her feelings of course but she also simply hides the truth from everyone, all the time, compulsively. also literally the entire section of her book that she narrates is a lie she’s telling US about a lie she’s telling HERSELF and no one understands even a little bit of the truth until like the last act of the book. queen.

Gideon Nav:

Gideon Nav is all but useless as a narrator, and we love her for it. So first of all, she knows absolutely nothing. She grew up under a rock. Almost literally. When the plot is happening near her, she almost never tells us about it. Politics, history, and the magic system are boring. Let her know when there's something she can FIGHT. She also has very selective emphasis and focus that can change a scene completely without ever actually lying. She can tell the same story—to us, in her third-person narration as a factual recounting—and in one version the incident will be a schoolyard scuffle, while a later telling will reveal it to have been a near-homicide. She'll confidently interpret other character's motivations and emotions, only to later be proven wrong. But the thing that makes her REALLY unreliable? She lies to HERSELF constantly. She will tell us in her narration that she doesn't give a shit where someone disappeared to, and then spend the whole day searching for them. She'll say she hates someone, when. Well....

okay so i am actually going to do one segment about her own book and one about harrow’s so many apologies and also many spoilers ahead okay? okay so in gideon the ninth it’s a well known thing that she’s an unreliable narrator on two fronts: she lies to herself and therefore us about how she’s feeling and what she’s thinking, and also she isn’t paying attention to the plot at all. the only things she pays any attention to are hot girls, swords, and hot girls with swords. at one point she watches their only way out be sealed off and is so bored about it that she goes to sleep watching it happen, taking absolutely no note of “oh hey they’re trapping us here”. later someone asks IN FRONT OF HER “hey where did all our shuttles go” and shes like “😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌” and still does not make the connection. babygirl. but THEN!!!!! in HARROW the ninth (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD) gideon is the narrator the ENTIRE TIME (except for the revised canaan house parts) and not only does she editorialize, she also straight up lies about events and motivations! partially justified by her being inside harrow’s head, but like. babygirl. beloved. the interjections of “holy fuck” and “pommel” and othersuch things is so important to my mental health and wellbeing. thank you. thank you for lying to us so so much.

[cryptidwrestling]

I need to sleep. I am putting way too much thought and upset energy into a scripted sports soap opera 😂😭 Anyway

Some Of Cryptid's Current Thoughts And Feelings™ On The State Of Her RAW Faves

1) Liv Morgan's booking.

Ya'll. I'm a Rhea simp/stan and a person second, anyone who's been on my blog for more than thirty seconds knows this 😂 And I've also made it no secret I, for the most part, am actually still enjoying the Liv v Rhea feud. So all that being said, what the fuck is going on with Liv's booking.

I know she's a heel and part of a heel faction and in-ring bullshit is the name of the game, but the fact that neither of her title defenses have been won clean (granted, she didn't technically win the Bad Blood one anyway but whatever we all know that ending was botched and she was supposed to technically win) and 9/10 times she runs from Rhea when confronted. They're making the Women's Champ look weak.

Liv can be cunning and vicious, we've all seen it; for fuck's one of my favorite theories that I'm willing to die on the hill of is Liv still just using Dominik as a pawn and is gonna drop him the moment she realizes he doesn't fit in with her plans anymore. Book the feral Liv if they're gonna keep this storyline going.

2) Finn v Damian

I mentioned this in a another post but I feel like the reason they weren't pushed as hard is because they didn't want to risk something forshadowing the PunkIntyre feud...And if that's the case, they shouldn't have had Finn turn yet. With this theory in mind, and tbh even if NOT true this would have still worked, the tldr in my head is

-Dom's turn should have been the same

-Have Finn, and the rest of the JD stick around and the rivalries be Dom v Damian and still Rhea v Liv

-Bad Blood rolls around, Dom and Damian have a match, and Finn's turn comes in the form of him and the JD assisting Dom.

-The Finn v Damian feud kicks off the same night Punk v Drew ends

There was NO REASON to have Finn turn and to wait this long to really start doing something with it. I still standby my opinion if done right, this rivalry could still be AMAZING...But it doesn't change the fact it has lost a LOT of momentum going the way it has.

3) Rhea Currently Standing Alone

To a degree, I get it. Her and Damian agreed to do their own thing because he's done with the JD (as far as he thinks.) and they're in different divisons but he would/will always come if Rhea called. I'm not a fan of how fast they split them up as a team-again, wave two of the Terror Twins shirts had barely shipped when this happened-but this segement was okay. It was sweet and mutual.

THAT SAID.

Rhea is currently in a 2v1 (not counting Dom cause I have little hopes of us ever getting a sanctioned match with them cause ✨intergender✨🙄) rivalry. Liv has Raquel...Who the fuck does Rhea have? Tiffy? Maybe, but we can't even say that for certain because as it sits right now, they're on different shows. Show borders are just currently being blurred in, assumingly, prep for Survivor Series.

Why the fuck does Rhea currently have to stand alone.

4) Jhea

THIS KINDA PIGGYBACKS OFF MY LAST PARAGRAPH AND IS THE ONE I REALLY DON'T GET??? Okay, yes, it was probably supposed to be something cute and just for fun to fill time while the other main storylines Rhea and Jey are/were in moved along. But if that was the case, why did ya'll move it to the main stage and not just keep it in backstage segments? Rhea during a preshow interview, I think it was Bad Blood?, said Jey showed her what a real man was like. Not to mention Jey coming to Rhea and Damian's defense or Jey agreeing to tag with Damian cause he "can't say no to Rhea." Why the fuck would you plant seeds like that on screen, on the main stage, and then just??? Drop it??? I don't get it???

5) JEY MOTHERFUCKING USO'S 28 DAY REIGN

I'm gonna make this one short and sweet cause you can literally see all my posts directly below this word vomit and see how mad I am 😅 But, in short; Why. Why not wait until after he's done with the Bloodline to give him a title? Why not have this same set up but give him the title ages ago. Give him a decent title reign with the same ending. Predictable at that point sure, but okay...What is the fucking point of having him, a fan favorite who everyone was cheering the house down the night he won, get his first solo title ever after fourteen years...Only to give it back to Bron less than a month later?

Bron is a GREAT preformer, do not get me wrong but making this...I don't want to say newcomer, but newer star a two time champ in his lesser time with the WWE just doesn't sit right with me.

I know Jey was gonna get involved with the Bloodline story at some point. I know it would have been hard to impossible to book him in a Smackdown story as a RAW champ...They could have done in without stripping his first non-tag title from him in under a month. We could have gotten crashout Jey going after Solo and Co without what we got tonight.

[theriverpointace]

so. i watched the 1997 monkees special. thoughts below a cut. tldr i liked it quite a bit (even if i took damage every time i saw micky's hair. it made me very very sad.)

‘97 MONKEES TV SPECIAL!!!

it’s so obviously them but thirty years later. nothing’s changed. they still haven’t made it (they made it) they haven’t made it

“i think we did that episode already, MIIIIIKE??”

sciencey mickyyyyyyy

“kiss?” “no thank you”

“kiss” “no but davy wants one”

“the name of the band is kiss!” (<- is ignored)

“it is NOT great, it is silly!” and we stopped being silly thirty years ago, micky, we made a movie about it!

“we better start reheasin’ before another Plotline shows up!” SCREAMING

hahaha typical little mv/burst :) i haven’t listened to anything past ‘86 and they’ve done two whole new albums since then :)

“i like when that happens! THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE! :D” (laugh track plays)

STOCK FOOTAGE

crying laughing at the way they’re so freaking sick of each other 😂 they’ve been living together for thirty years folks

bad hair aside micky is exactly the fucking same

seriously tho it used to be so light and fluffy, even straightened. what did you do to it. what did you do to it. what did you—

diff vers of circle sky. like the tvs tho

also since when does davy play guitar

mike has diff glasses which is good. if i saw older nez with those stupid glasses i hate i think i’d scream. i think i’d cry. 

“life is a bowl of oysters”

“lizard’s back”

fascinated by how nobody listens to peter. like he’s not even saying anything at all. what’s up with that boys

WHAT’S HAPPENING. WHAT. MICKY WHAT ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. KISSING????? SAFE KISSING???????

“remember davy asking me for a kiss at the beginning of the show? that was as dangerous as it was bizarre!” that’s a real flimsy cover babe im ngl

“i’ll fix it i’ll fix it i’ll fix it!” 👐👐👐

“well i still wish it was the way it WAS” me too babe go wash your hair and get that gel or whatever out

i don’t understand the point of this but uh. slay. wouldn’t be the monkees without some casual crossdressing to get what they need, yeah?

this mv feels a bit questionable. a bit problematic. anyways.

“we were mostly gonna play the new cd, we need the publicity. … ‘boil that cabbage down’?”

WAIT THE HEAD TILT on that line is so mickyyyyy

“that confetti’s a special effect.” “yeah” “it’s not throw-up.” “nope” “that’s why we keep running out of production money, and having to cut to a lizard sunning itself on a rock.”

goofy rainbow room “daydream believer” hijinks my beloved!

micky held onto some of that 1970s performance of “steppin’ stone” man

i should listen to “pleasant valley sunday” more it’s chill. also rainbow room mv? 👀 with two of my fav outfits?? 👀👀

[autistic-bowlcut-swag]

Propaganda under the cut

Jeff Andonuts

-Overall characterized as pretty awkward, the kid first introduces himself by listing his flaws (including “I’m very nearsighted” among them, the silly, that’s a neutral trait!) and then saying he wished they could be friends when he literally just saved people that called him over there telepathically with the phrase “friend we never met” in there! Almost like he was rattling off a memorized script in a way and I say this in the most awww look how hard he’s trying way possible. He’s pretty implied to be nocturnal as he works during the night and his specialty is fixing busted technology. He’s very good at it too! His dad was also a scientist but their relationship is interesting? Anyway, tldr his dad was always so absorbed in his work that they hadn’t seen each other in 10 years while Jeff was at boarding school and for context, Jeff is 13. Relationship with mother unknown. Do not ask. We don’t know either. Anyway, he’s got the autistic swag in the tbh stares at you blankly way. You can’t even see his eyes in most official art, so he’s just peak -_- to me right behind Frisk Undertale. Did anyone submit them too? Maybe I will if I have the energy.

-saved my life while i was playing this game also he has guns and can make a lot of gadgets he cannot crit but also cannot miss and hes super genius

Peter

-pathetic below average guy at the beginning of the story, everyone treats him like shit. then he gets possessed by an angel and he has to go kill god. he meets two guys and he falls in love with one of them and through the power of love and friendship and gay people they save the universe and also peter kind of becomes god. anyways its never outright said that hes autistic but he very clearly is and ive never met a single person in the fandom who disagrees. his special interest is rocks and he used to have a job sorting them at the rock factory. he has a pet lizard named lizard. hes still a pretty below average guy throughout all of the god killing stuff also but hes pretty nice and his humanity single handedly changed the narrative. he had gay sex

-autism swag . he likes rocks

-OHHHH BOY. Peter Sqloint was just a dude with a lizard until the archangel of retribution Exandroth possessed him. then he met Rumi (WHO HE WILL LATER HAVE SEX WITH AND MARRY BECAUSE OF HIS AUTISTIC SWAG) and Thanatos (big robot bitch who likes the lizard and hates Gods) (they all hate gods) (they kill gods). Anyway Peter Sqloint is THE Autistic with a Bowl Cut ever :3 OH he beats exandroth in a battle in his mind after he's stabbed by Thanatos (it wasnt his fault, a god put a spell on him). He comes back though, so it's chill

[fallloverfic]

Thoughts for people worried about what happens in ENNEAD Season 2, Episode 98 (the newest Korean episode that went up ~5 hours ago as of this writing) and how this will affect Horuseth.

(tldr; I think Horuseth is fine, but spoilers and discussion below the read more)

To sum up part of what happened: we see that Nephthys seemingly loved Seth to some degree before Anubis was born or perhaps even conceived. We don't fully know the details: as Isis indicates at the episode end, there's more to this that we're not seeing (and we'll probably see next episode), because Nephthys was proven honest by Maat's scales when Nephthys testified that she loved Osiris in S01E69.

The implication from S02E97 is that Hathor's mirror made Nephthys love Osiris, and Nephthys' affection/love/memories of love(?) was trapped in the mirror after she looked into it.

We don't quite have confirmation that happened, just Horus putting pieces together, and the implication we're going to either get confirmation/learn more at least in the next episode. Horus has been wrong before and hasn't had the whole picture before, lest we forget in S01E36-7 where he accused Sekhmet of imprisoning Nephthys in the mirror and making, "the fake Nephthys give birth to Anubis. [She] got rid of the real god of peace and provoked the god of war... ...in order to stain the land of Egypt with blood." (If the Nephthys in Heliopolis was never a fake after all, and mirror!Nephthys is just some of her memory/feelings, then yeah, Horus really didn't know the truth of the situation). He might still be right about some part of that, but recent episodes have seemingly indicated that while his intuition was right on points, he didn't investigate enough and came to the wrong factual conclusions about things, because he just trusted his intuition too much. He states as much in S02E97: how he relied overmuch on his intuition, which made him an idiot.

Anyway, on to the "Seth/Nephthys really did love each other and they're gonna get back together so now Horuseth can't be a thing anymore" stuff I see people doomposting about.

Folks do remember Seth loved Nephthys for a really long time, right? Like Seth says as much in S01E48: "I love Nephthys with all my heart". His loving her is not news. It's why the potential idea of her never loving him to begin with/Osiris' involvement hurt so bad.

If you think Nephthys needed to love him back to make his love for her... real(?) and thus, perhaps, his hurt valid or invalid or I don't know, that's just really strange. He loved her. He was hurt by the idea she never loved him, or never loved him fully, or otherwise lied about it, on top of lying to him about the identity of Anubis' biological father. For perhaps hundreds of years. It's still a tragedy, it's just perhaps more tragic because maybe Osiris really was a liar - like he seemed to be anyway, because he loves manipulating the truth/reality to his whims - and maybe Nephthys really was done wrong, too, by having her affections stolen.

Nephthys maybe loving him back doesn't make anything he went through that night less painful than it already was. More painful, perhaps, but it was already a tragedy. He was already on the road to becoming who he is now. It doesn't change the fact that unfortunately, Nephthys seemingly didn't love him at that point, and had lied to him about Anubis.

One of the few things we knew about Seth/Nephthys prior to S02E98 is that Seth would act angry so that Nephthys couldn't talk to him. In S01E41, Seth tells Osiris during the night of usurpation, "I always just acted angry so that I wouldn't have to hear what she had to say. She was probably afraid of things ending up this way..."

He already had regrets about their relationship. This just seemingly confirmed his fears (his fear of "being forgotten by them" from earlier in the episode/the previous episode).

People can move on from relationships. I don't personally see how, after everything both Nephthys and Seth have been through in the hundreds of years since what happened in S02E98, that Seth and Nephthys fully can come back to the relationship in the memory in S02E98. Possible, yes. Probable? Ehhh...

Seth might be glad Osiris is a confirmed liar. (If that's true: again, even Isis notes in the episode there's more to what's going on we haven't seen yet). Seth might be glad to know he really was loved. He might hate himself for doubting Nephthys. Seth might hate Osiris more for any number of things, particularly if Osiris intentionally placed the mirror in Seth's rooms to either make Seth fall in love with him or make Nephthys fall out of love with Seth (with the possible idea of making Seth turn to Osiris out of a sense of abandonment or something idk) or at least put Nephthys at risk of getting harmed.

It's been hundreds of years, though (if not more than that). Seth and Nephthys are now very different people, and Seth has a good and improving relationship with Horus. Nephthys saw Seth abuse Anubis (S01E05). Seth trapped Isis in the labyrinth, and Nephthys helped her out. Seth hurt a lot of people and cursed many people. Maybe whatever romantic love she might have had for him, even if she somehow gets it back, hasn't survived all that she's gone through and seen.

Seth's been through a lot, mentally, too. I kind of think he's moved on and after everything he's done, he might be too ashamed to go back to her. Even if it was out of their control that Nephthys stopped loving him, the other stuff still happened.

You don't need to doompost about Horuseth. Nothing has really changed. I say that in the sense that while the idea of Nephthys potentially having loved Seth until the mirror's interference might hurt him, particularly if he discovers Horus hid it from him, Seth is still who he is, he's still done all the things he's done, as king, as a father, as a husband, as a sibling, and he's still got this thing with Horus going.

Remember, in S02E70, Seth says to Horus, "I'm a god of the old generation who needs to disappear, not to mention an evil god who destroyed the country." He already has a lot of self-esteem issues and doesn't view himself highly. One reason he likes Horus is seemingly that Horus sees who he is beneath all that: believes in him as a guardian god, as a powerful god worthy of respect and affection ("My nephew, who dragged me down, is the only one who acknowledges me" - S02E74).

But also Seth did a lot of terrible things and he knows it. Horus is okay with that - to a degree at least, particularly with Seth trying to make amends - but is Nephthys? Nephthys, who gave him the curse bracelet - which nearly killed him multiple times - to make amends? She says in S01E66 she doesn't want him to be purged, and she clearly wants to support him, but that's not the same as wanting to live as his wife/partner again.

If nothing else, what keeps Horuseth together might be Seth realizing this doesn't change all that much about who they are. He could be mad at Horus. I can see him getting furious about this. He might even attack Horus, maybe even badly injure or kill him (but it's possible Horus could be revived, like how Isis revived Osiris, or something about Horus' uniqueness as a demigod/god). Maybe they'll separate and have an eventual reconciliation. But I don't personally believe they're doomed as a couple because of this. There's too many ways for them to stay together or get back together.

People can have past good, healthy relationships and not stay together. Sometimes we just grow out of relationships and into new ones. It happens. Horus makes Seth feel seen and cared for, and he listens to things that seemingly Seth's siblings - even maybe before whatever happened with Nephthys happened - didn't listen to, like Seth's opinions about eating or his opinions on his "duty" to guard Egypt or Seth's status as a god or his relationship with Isis.

Maybe Seth/Nephthys gets back together briefly but Seth goes back to Horus in the end because they don't work or he loves Horus more and his and Nephthys' time apart just doesn't let them work or Nephthys wants to focus on herself for a while. Maybe Seth attacks Horus because Horus hid info about Nephthys' affections. Maybe Horuseth reconciles because Seth realizes Horus genuinely loves him and hid whatever he learned because he genuinely loves Seth or was otherwise afraid of talking or how to explain it, and Seth realizes it's a messy thing to explain. Maybe Horus didn't say anything because, like he was seemingly aware the first time he went into the mirror, mirror!Nephthys/her affection for Seth, can't come out of the mirror anyway, so what's going to change? This is encouraged by the fact that Isis apparently learned all of this and did nothing about it. Even the god of magic - and miracles - hasn't freed mirror!Nephthys, when she possibly had opportunity (or maybe there's another reason we haven't learned yet for why she didn't; point is we don't know much). Seth might look at that and go, "I really hate this, but I guess it's just how things are now, and I'm going to learn to live with it."

Maybe Seth realizes that, despite everything, he genuinely cares for Horus and this isn't going to defeat them. That Horus had his back time and again. Sometimes things being out of our control don't mean we can just go back to how we were. Life happens. He's still got Nephthys' curse bracelet :/

If you, like I, believe Horuseth is real at this point, have faith that it'll continue to be real despite this. Horus is the main love interest, it's a boys love series, their relationship is pretty strong already, and more to the point, Mojito is a good writer. I think they'll be fine.