#and now this stupid bullshit attitude is back where its like funny to call someone a virgin as an insult but like no bro trust me its okay

[miyuwuki]

👉👈 ignore this if you think its weird. Kazuya bringing his 5yo son to a meeting with Sawamura + Furuya + Mochi. Like they have a reunite meeting or something. And his son being a carbon copy of him (plus the style of his eye glass too) everyone knew right away who is that little one. Its Miyuki's 🥰. Kazuya assuring his son to go first because he has an important call but he was watching from afar because he wants to see everyones reaction including his son too. He wants to see the CHAOS. 🥰😇. Sure Sawamura would pannic for a momnt coz his Senpai turned into a kid by magic but hey. Little miyuki isnt a real 'Miyuki' if he doesnt have the Miyuki attitude 😂🖤. If anything, he is more honest and blunt than Kazuya because kids don't filter their thoughts that much 😂. He wants to play with Furuya and Sawamura as a cather but thats when Kazuya steps in 😂 he doesnt trust these guys playing with him because if they get carried away and pitched their best throws his son would fly away because of their strength 😂😂🥰🥰. Plus his son would demand them to play real like pro athlets because, well its not a Miyuki if he doesnt ask for the best throw right 🥰🥰🖤🖤?? many tourublemakers 🥰😂 but good thing is his son gets along with Mochi very well and no body knows the reason why 😂🥰

miyuki with a child??????? your head seems to be in the right place, anon >:) and the fact that miyuki’s son is just randomly close to kuramochi is the cutest idea ever i am so soft rn

warnings: not a very interactive miyuki kazuya x reader (seido reunion)

dad!miyuki kazuya x reader

mini captain

“miyuki-senpai!”

sawamura shouted, pointing at miyuki and a little boy holding his hand.

“sawamura, you’re too noisy again.” kuramochi said, kicking his back.

“lower down your voice, eijun.” furuya added.

“guys!!”

miyuki laughed at the three of them, not noticing a change ever since they all graduated high school and went their separate paths. today sawamura planned a seido reunion on seido’s field, but only kuramochi and furuya could make it since everyone’s schedule was too tight. miyuki was able to go, but only if he brought your son, kazuno, since you were going to be at work all day.

“long time no see guys,” miyuki said, looking at the three stooges. sawamura smiled and laughed, “miyuki-senpai! i see you didn’t change! your glasses lens are as thick as ever!”

“shut up, you’re the one to talk. your screeching voice still sounds as if there’s a mic down your throat.” miyuki retaliated. sawamura shrieked, firing back at the captain with more bullshit, but their bickering was interrupted by kuramochi who asked, “who’s this little guy? is this kazuno?”

your son hid behind miyuki’s back, a little shy since they all came off so strong. miyuki chuckled and patted his head, “this is my son, kazuno. hey, come out and say hi, bud.” kuramochi, sawamura, and furuya looked at kazuno, who’s cheeks were becoming red the more they stared. “miyuki-senpai,” furuya started, “he kind of looks like someone.” so the three of them looked at kazuno, then at miyuki, then kazuno, then miyuki, then kazuno..

“AHH! HE LOOKS JUST LIKE YOU, MIYUKI-SENPAI!!” sawamura shouted, acting as if he’d just seen a ghost, “THE GLASSES, THE HAIR, THE—”

“wow dad, he is pretty loud.” kazuno mumbled, still hiding behind his father’s back.

“HUH, WHAT ARE YOU TELLING YOUR SON, MIYUKI KAZUYA!!”

“shut up, sawamura. y/n had to work today, so i had to bring him with me. ah, you’re hurting my eardrums.” he pulled kazuno forward and introduced the three boys, “kazuno, this is sawamura, kuramochi, and furuya.” kazuno gave a slight bow, running back to hide behind his father again. “he’s a bit shy,” miyuki said, “but i’m expecting a call soon. do you guys mind watching over kazuno a bit?”

“YES, CAPTAIN! I WILL PUT MY ENTIRE LIFE ON THE LINE FOR THE MINI CAPTAIN!”

a sweat dropped down miyuki face, turning to kuramochi and furuya, “kuramochi, furuya, i leave my child in your hands.”

“HEY CAPTAIN! YOU FORGOT ABOUT ME! SAWAMURA EIJUN IS AMAZING WITH CHILDREN!” sawamura grunted, his eyes turning cat-like.

“ah dad,” kazuno said, “he’s like a cat.”

“i told you.” miyuki laughed. soon his phone rang and said, “i’ll be right back guys.” and with that, he picked up his phone with a “hello?” and went away where the voices of his friends won’t be picked up in the call. kazuno immediately went to kuramochi and held his hand, waiting for someone to speak to kill the awkwardness in the air. kuramochi smiled and held his hand back and asked, “do you want to play catch, kazuno? i’m sure you’re good at it.” kazuno’s eyes sparkled when he looked up at kuramochi and nodded, clearly excited to be playing with his father’s former teammates.

“i bet you’re even better than eijun, kazuno.” furuya said, warming up his arm.

“HEY HEY, WHY ARE YOU POINTING FINGERS, FURUYA? KAZUNO, I WILL TEACH YOU TO BE THE BEST PITCHER EVER.”

“sawamura-san, please be quiet.” kazuno said, covering his ears. kuramochi and furuya kept their laughs in, finding amusement in kazuno’s bluntness. that was miyuki’s kid alright, but sawamura couldn’t get mad— he could only get worked up; he was a kid, after all.

“k-kazuno! i’m sorry!” sawamura stuttered, taken aback at kazuno’s honesty. he bowed at the child repeatedly, not even dazed that he could break his back.

“you’re like a comedy show, sawamura-san.” kazuno said.

“HAHA, SO YOU THINK I’M FUNNY—“

“alright! let’s get a bucket of balls and start playing catch!” kuramochi said, interrupting sawamura before he got ahead of himself. sawamura growled as kuramochi led kazuno to the shed. the other two set up on the field, positioning themselves to form a small circle. kuramochi and kazuno joined, giving mitts to the two and putting on their own.

“looks like the glove is a little big on you.” kuramochi said to kazuno, laughing. kazuno shook is head, “it’s okay, kuramochi-san.”

“ALRIGHT, LET’S PLAY CATCH! HAHA!” sawamura beamed.

from afar, miyuki looked over at the boys, feeling something in his chest when he thought about his former teammates playing with his son. he found it cute, not that he’d ever admit it, but it was making him so soft. when the phone call ended, he took a picture of the group, wanting to save that moment forever and look back on it. “ah, they get along so well,” miyuki said to himself, walking to the group to join.

“furuya-san, your throws go right into my glove.” kazuno said, clear excitement in his voice, “i want to catch your pitches.”

“ha ha! that’s miyuki’s kid alright!” kuramochi exclaimed. miyuki laughed at his son, reminding him of how he was like in high school. “maybe when you’re older, kazu. his pitches are so heavy that they’ll blow you away.”

“what about sawamura-san?”

“no, his are worse.”

“HEY, MIYUKI-SENPAI!!”

kazuno grumbled, displeased at the fact that miyuki wouldn’t let him catch for seido’s former pitchers; which was probably the right choice, due to the strength of the two alumni. “then can i see you play catch with them, dad?” kazuno said, looking up at miyuki. miyuki smirked, eyeing sawamura and furuya. “well, if i insist—”

“please catch for me, miyuki-senpai.” furuya said, an aura spewing around him.

“HAHA IT’S JUST LIKE OUR OLD BATTERY, HUH?” sawamura added, jumping up and down.

“shut up, just get on the mound, you two.” miyuki teased, grabbing the vest and glove to put on. the group didn’t see, but he was extremely happy on the inside, happy to be catching with his former batteries. he felt a spark in his chest and elation in his finger tips. it’s been a while.. he thought. and although miyuki loves the life he’s living right now, with a beautiful wife and an amazing kid, he couldn’t help but wish to go back in time once in a while, just to play with his team again.

“mochi-san.” kazuno said quietly, gripping on his hand again. kuramochi blushed at the nickname, sheepish that kazuno took a liking in him. “do you want me to carry you, kazuno?” he asked, looking down at him. kazuno nodded and raised his arms as kuramochi swept him off the ground. he’s so darn cute, but he looks so much like miyuki that it scares me, he thought. they turned to the field where furuya was on the mound first.

“FURUYA, I WANTED TO GO FIRST.” sawamura yelled, steam coming out of his nose.

“you can go after.”

“alright, furuya!” miyuki exclaimed, “throw me a fastball!”

“look, kazuno. they used to call him the monster pitcher,” kuramochi told kazuno, pointing to the man on the mound. “he can pitch over 150 kilometres an hour, which is very fast. imagine sonic but in a ball form.” kazuno watched furuya, closely looking at is form until,

whoosh.

with a blink of an eye, the ball was already in miyuki’s mitt, the sound of the catch slowly dying down. kazuno gasped, struggling to understand what just happened as he squirmed in kuramochi’s arms. kuramochi laughed at kazuno’s reaction, “right? he was one of the best pitchers back in our days. but sawamura is a different story too, kazuno. he’s stupid but him and your dad was probably the best battery.” kazuno’s breath got caught in his throat listening to kuramochi talk about his dad back then. miyuki was probably kazuno’s biggest inspiration, and hearing that sawamura was able to aid to miyuki’s abilities made kazuno turn his full attention back on the field. there he saw furuya begin to walk off the field to switch with sawamura, who was impatiently waiting for his turn.

“MIYUKI-SENPAI, WATCH OUT FOR MY PITCH! I SWEAR IT WILL BLOW YOU AWAY, HA HA HA!”

“whatever, just pitch already, idiot!” miyuki grunted. he positioned himself again, ready to catch sawamura’s pitch, “you better pitch right into my glove!” sawamura nodded and took a deep breath, showing his relaxed face to everyone watching. kazuno cringed and asked, “why is his face like that? he looks dumb.” kuramochi cackled and replied, “it’s his secret weapon.”

and on the count of three, sawamura threw the ball, putting his entire soul and energy into that pitch. miyuki’s eyes widened as it blasted towards him, suddenly dipping under where the batter would be. he caught the ball with a loud boom that emitted from that throw.

“HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, KAZUNO!!” sawamura said, turning to kazuno and kuramochi. kazuno’s eyes sparkled, truly amazed at sawamura’s pitch. miyuki smiled at his kid and yelled, “kazuno! he was my partner back in high school! his pitches are nice, right? nice ball, sawamura!” kazuno nodded, and wanting to see it again he said, “more! i want to see more!”

sawamura chuckled, “he’s just like you, miyuki-senpai!!”

“well, it isn’t a seido reunion if we don’t play, right?”

pitches were thrown and catches were caught, and soon enough the reunion came to an end; everyone was exhausted from playing on the field all day, sweat running down everyone’s foreheads. kazuno and kuramochi played catch together for most of the time, while sawamura and furuya fought about who pitched better.

“you guys continue to exceed my expectations huh,” miyuki said to sawamura and furuya, “i wish i could catch for you guys again.”

“aw, miyuki-senpai misses us,” furuya said, a loving aura appearing around him.

miyuki just grinned and turned to kazuno, who was still throwing the ball to kuramochi, “kazu, let’s go home. your mom is probably waiting for us.”

kazuno shook his head and grabbed onto kuramochi’s shirt, his grip getting antsy. miyuki’s head cocked to the side, and wanting to tease kazuno, he said, “ouch! kazuno likes kuramochi more than me.” kuramochi chucked and ruffled kazuno’s head, “don’t worry kazuno. want me to come by next weekend? we can play catch again.” kazuno nodded and miyuki sighed, “who would’ve thought you’d taken a liking to kuramochi, kazu. you sure you’re okay with coming by next week?” miyuki asked. kuramochi smiled, “of course! me and kazu are besties now, right?” kazuno giggled and nodded, waddling to miyuki after. miyuki picked him up and bowed to the three, “thanks for bringing me out here, sawamura. hopefully the others are able to join next time.”

“OF COURSE CAP! I WILL BE SCHEDULING ANOTHER ONE SOON!”

“maybe next time kazuno can catch for me.” furuya said, “let’s practice together sometime too, kazuno.”

kazuno beamed, and eventually everyone greeted each other goodbye. miyuki placed a kiss on kazuno’s cheek as he began to fall asleep on his shoulder.

miyuki never said it, but this was one of the best days he’s ever had. he didn’t realize how much he missed his friends until that moment, loving it even more that kazuno got along with them.

BONUS:

miyuki came home, holding a sleeping kazuno in his arms. “we’re home, y/n!”

you came out of the kitchen and smiled at your two boys, “welcome home!” you took kazuno from miyuki’s arms and rubbed his back, “seems like you guys had a lot of fun today, huh?”

“more than we expected.”

I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!! THIS WAS SO CUTE IMAGINING IT. THANK YOU SM <3

#diamond no ace #daiya no ace #daiya x reader #diamond no ace x reader #kominato haruichi #kuramochi youichi #miyuki kazuya #sawamura eijun #seido #daiyadaily

[justasimplesinner]

Since angst is on the menu, Arkham Riddler developing feelings for reader who is already in a relationship. Reader and s/o are healthy and happy together, but Reader is ride or die bff's with Ed. Maybe in another life things would be different for Reader and Eddie, but Reader can't ever imagine a life without their s/o and they aren't the type of person to cheat. The reader feels purely platonically toward Eddie.

( Is Ed the kind of person to prioritize the friendship over his feelings? Would he try to break the couple up? Does his attitude change the more unhinged he gets? How much bastardry is he capable of here?)

hooo boy let's make this man Suffer™

Arkham!Ed falling for a taken reader hcs:

funny thing, you were actually in a relationship with one of his hench(wo)men, which is why he even stumbled upon you. your s/o was one of the higher ranked thugs, the ones that he trusted with his machines and plans, installing his traps and placing the more complicated trophy challenges in many different locations. the ones that had decent ideas about where to even put such trophies

the fact that your beloved even worked for The Riddler was all thanks to you actually! Gotham has a very high unemployment rate, and sometimes, being fired from one job meant landing on the street. your s/o almost did, and their last resort was... well, being a paid hench(wo)man. and you understood, you really understood and you were there to support, but only on one condition - if your darling was going to work for a supervillain, let it at least be a supervillain with a point to prove. someone smart that wasn't just looking for chaos and violence. and that's how they landed in Riddler's crew

you probably shouldn't've met Ed, but you were a good and supportive partner, you accepted your s/o's job and, most importantly, their crew, their new friends. bonds that form between some hench(wo)men are unbreakable, and you were really kind towards everyone your partner brought home with 'em. and maybe that was putting you at risk, but sometimes... you got involved. sometimes, you threw in your own ideas for trophies placement, sometimes, you came over to the location your s/o was working on with some nice take out or lunch because god only knows sometimes they went a day or two without a single proper meal. and if you cared for them, you also had to care for the crew. you've become almost a parental figure to some of them (especially the teens - god damn, why would there be teens, how fucked up Gotham actually was?)

fate had it, once you just had to stumble upon The Riddler Himself. all your fault too, since you didn't call beforehand and your s/o didn's even know you were coming this time. hell, you've almost gotten yourself killed because of this. it was only your silver tongue and general comprehension of what was going on that saved you. the way you listened to him and admitted that he was right and maybe you were kinda stupid, but its not your fault you wanted to be supportive. maybe if Ed wasn't such a fucking bastard, you'd support him too. for now, he just got his lunch from you and some small talk he acted like he didn't want to indulge in

Edward, being curious about you being worried for his plans and their safety, pulled up some info on you, anything he could blackmail you or your partner (and his worker) with if the need comes. and that's how the weird friendship began. he started seeing more of you (what is that? him specifically working in the same location as your s/o? no, definitely not), you always brought him nice food and chatted away with him, treated him like a normal human being despite him being a feared (pffft) villain, and you inquired about his work. not essentially about his plans, but his work. at first, he was incredibly suspicious, but after some time, he started warming up to you

quite soon, he had your number in his phone and hours upon hours talked over with you while he worked and you weren't there. you always listened to his rambling and inquired about a lot of things, hell, at times you used him as your own personal Google. you brought him food and threatened him into taking breaks sometimes and you even started visiting him to make sure he actually did. you forced him to integrate with his hench(wo)men because you willingly housed your s/o and their friends and it often led to nice, casual game nights with beer and junk food, and you made sure that even if he didn't come, he was always invited. you cared for him like nobody ever has, and let's be real, how could he not fall in love with you?

it was stupid, and he pushed those feelings down for as long as he could. but it started showing in very obvious ways, he started seeking out your company, getting closer to your partner just to learn more about you, making sure you were the first person to see everything he came up with. you've gotten yourself tangled in this weird life where technically, you weren't doing any crimes, and yet were a part of them at the same time. you always offered your support, your ideas, you took his words into consideration, you helped wherever you could, even if it meant some construction work, especially if it meant you could be around him. he didn't want to admit how much he started relying on your kindness, how... attached he's gotten to you. how... deeply in love he fell with you

it was terrible. stupid and terrible. you already had a partner. and yes, maybe Edward genuinely thought once or twice (or more) about sabotaging your relationship and then swooping in so he'd be your only support, but... you seemed so happy. not only around him, but - most importantly - around your s/o. you had someone that understood you and loved you and treated you right. and deep down, Ed knew that... he'd never treat you right. he'd never be better than your s/o. you wouldn't be so happy with him as you were with them. he couldn't give you what they gave you, he couldn't give you that love, that time, that affection. he was too... broken. and he knew that. besides, there was no way someone would love him. not the way you loved your s/o. he fucking tried to isolate himself from you at some point only to beg at your door two weeks later, apologizing and thinking up some bullshit excuse so you'd take him back in and hug him again and make him feel loved

funny thing, he hated and loved your partner at the same time. he hated the fact that he couldn't be them, couldn't be in their place, couldn't be the one to hold you close and kiss you breathless, couldn't be the one you... loved. but they were so good for you. everything they fucking did, they did for you. hell, they fucking caught on to his own feelings, they dared to talk to him about it and tell him that they didn't mind. that they understood why he'd fall in love because that's the exact reason they did. that they weren't jealous and they trusted you with their heart. that they were glad he found someone that was literally ride or die with him, that if he asked you to fucking fight Batman for him, you would. they told him to take care of himself and that the hurt will pass and he will move on, like they were his fucking friend. of course, he denied everything, but all those words hit deep and heart and fucking cut through him because why couldn't he be like them? why couldn't he be them?

thing is, he never moved on. he didn't know how. at the same time, he never wanted to see you again and never stop seeing you. at the same time, he wanted to tell you everything and make you choose (despite the heartwrenching knowledge that you'd never choose him) and never utter a word and enjoy his time with you. and he so fucking enjoyed it. he so fucking craved being around you. every time you decided to hug him, he never wanted to leave your embrace. he wanted you to hug him and kiss him for the rest of his life, but he knew he couldn't get that. he settled for what he had - a true ride or die bestfriend, something he never had and never will again. even if it fucking hurt to see you with someone else, he never wanted to separate from you and at least enjoy what he had. if he couldn't have more, then at least he'd cherish every second spent with you to the max

#riddler #edward nigma #edward nygma #the riddler #arkhamverse #my writing #headcannons #angst #slight fluff #but very slight #anonymous #hell yeah kick him in the balls and spit on him as he's curling om the floor from the pain

[duhragonball]

Disinterpretation

I finally finished the Sarah Z video about “pro vs. anti”.   It’s pretty long, and I ended up watching it in chunks over several days, but I think it’s worth watching, especially if you’re sort of partially connected to online fandom, but not enough to be aware of all the lingo. 

As I expected, the whole thing was vague and confusing because the people involved in the conflict made it vague and confusing.   In theory, the full terms would be “pro-shipping” and “anti-shipping”, but it seems like it’s more about particular kinds of ships that could be considered controversial.  But that’s a slippery slope, and apparently the whole conflict mutated into both sides deciding that every hypothetical relationship between fictional characters is either equally valid or equally dangerous.  

Long story short, it’s just purity culture, which was what everyone on Tumblr was calling it around 2012.  But now, if you’re a sane person who genuinely asks: “Who gives a fuck about Voltron?”, these people will jump your ass and accuse you of being on the side of their enemies.  “Children have died over the importance of Lotor/Hagger!   Your callous indifference proves that you yourself must have murdered children!” 

I think what Sarah Z really hit upon in this video was that media consumption has become so ingrained in our culture that people feel like it has to go hand-in-hand with our morality.   That is, it’s not enough for me to watch Star Trek, I have to justify Star Trek as evidence that I’m a good person.  Maybe this is where the expression “guilty pleasure” comes from.   Conversely, it’s not enough for me to not watch Dr. Who, I have to somehow convince everyone that Dr. Who was invented by the devil.

I’m pretty sure the Reylo ship has a lot to do with this, since it’s kind of understood to be a dark, problematic concept, and fans either embrace its flaws or recoil in horror because of them.   Star Wars itself is a dumb story about space wizards, so people try to give the debate more weight by linking it to freedom of self expression and/or enabling real world harm.   Suddenly it’s not enough to just think two actors would look cute making out instead of fighting.   Now it’s this battlefield for the soul of civilization or something.

I grew up in the 80′s, when “concerned parents” and grifters would accuse the Smurfs and metal bands of promoting satanism and witchcraft.   I used to hear stories of teens going out into the woods in the middle of the night to do occult stuff, and all I could ever think about was: “Why would anyone bother wandering out in the woods in the middle of the night?”  Which is why “concerned parents” turned their attention to things that were closer to home, like Saturday morning cartoons.   It had nothing to do with the content; it was just about finding a safe, accessible target for their hysteria.   Some people want to go on a crusade without leaving the house, so they pick a fight with Papa Smurf instead of confronting the real evils in the world.  Even as a kid, I knew this was a con, because I’d watched the show for myself and knew it was too saccharine to be threat to anyone.

The pro/anti folks have tried to disguise this with a lot of terminology.   I wondered why they seemed to reluctant to use the full terms “pro-shipper” and “anti-shipper”, and it’s probably a couple of things.   First, the word “shipper” is basically an admission that this is pointless bullshit that doesn’t matter, and they’d like to avoid that connotation.   Second, they seem to have decided that this goes beyond shipping itself, into practically anything else they want it to involve.  It’s all part of the con, which is to make you believe that it’s “us vs. them”, and you can be part of “us” by curating specific attitudes about Steven Universe.

Seriously, “about Steven Universe” is such an incredible punchline.  You can make anything funnier by adding those three words to the end of a sentence.   “Do not interact if you blog about Steven Universe.”   “Hey, what’s up, YouTube, this is SSJ3RyokoLover69, and this is going to be kind of a serious video about Steven Universe.”   “Mrs. Johnson, the results of your biopsy are in, and I have some bad news about Steven Universe.”   It’s a fucking kids show.   “Oh no, all the characters look like the characters in all the other kids shows!”   Yeah, that’s because it’s a kids show.   Marvin looks like Garfield, this isn’t new.

The common denominator here seems to be that both sides try to wrap themselves in the flag of vulnerable groups: impressionable minors, trauma survivors, harassment victims, etc.   The “pros” want to protect those people so that they can feel free to explore weird subject matter on their own terms, and the “antis” want to protect the same people from being exposed to weird subject matter that they might not want to see.   It’s all about establishing a moral high ground.   Back in the day, it was called “sanctimony”. 

But people get roped into this, because at their core, people want approval, and this stupid conflict offers them a sense of community.  As long as you support the cause, whatever it may be, you’ll have this online friend network that appears to support anything you do.   But if you deviate from their norm, you’ll be cast out.    Does this sound familiar?

To use a more familiar example, I still sometimes find people clamoring about Gochi vs. Vegebul.   I’ve never understood this, because both ships were canon, and I never saw much direct evidence of a war between them, but people would still talk about how crazy the Vegebul shippers were, and how crazy the Gochi shippers were, and it was like some huge thing going on just over the hills.   It’s the same idea, since the idea that you could like both or neither never seems to occur to anyone involved.   I never gave a shit, because I used to see the same dumb agendas in the Harry Potter fandom.

Okay, so let me take you back.  It’s 2005 through 2011, and I’m hateblogging all seven Harry Potter novels, because fuck you, that’s why.  The funny thing I encountered was that occasionally fans seemed to want to pretend like my bashing of certain characters was proving them right somehow.    They were like “See?  He hates Ron Weasley too!  That proves that Seamus Finnegan is the coolest guy ever.”   The Slytherin stans would do this all the time, because I would constantly take the piss out of the Gryffindor characters for being self-important dopes.   I think they just liked hearing it from an outside perspective.   But I had to keep reminding them all that I hated all of them.   Every character from Harry Potter sucks ass. Voldemort was my favorite, but only because he was the one guy who wanted to kill all of the others.   But he sucks too because he failed. 

And the shippers were the same way.   I’d say something shitty about Ron, because Ron sucks, and some smartass Joss Whedon fan would be like “Yes!  Boost the signal!  That is why Harry/Hermione is the best ship!”  And I’d be like “No, Harry and Hermione suck at least as bad as Ron does.  They’re all terrible and I hate them.”   I really do think there was some sort of Stockholm Syndrome going on with Harry Potter books, where everyone secretly knows they suck, but the fans sort of latch on to one or two characters and go like “Well, he’s not as shitty as the rest.”   Like finding spaghetti in the trash and picking out the meatball with the least amount of lint on it.   Then you’d go and start a flamewar with some other starving person over whether your meatball is shittier than theirs.  This is what people mean when they say to read another book. 

Anyway, the big thing I picked up from Sarah Z’s video is “disinterpretation”, a term coined by MSNBC columnis Zeeshan Aleem.   The Twitter thread is worth a read, but the short version is that he once remarked that a Julia Louis-Dreyfus routine wasn’t very good, and someone got mad at him for insinuating that women are incapable of being funny.    They just took his dissatisfaction with one performance by one comedian as being a universal condemnation of women comedians in general.  And this sort of thing is all over the internet.   Everyone sees what they want to see and then they take it as permission to overreact.  

I ran into this myself a while back, because someone saw who I interacted with on Twitter and decided that they’re all bad guys and if I have any interaction with them, then that makes me a bad guy too.   At the time I tried to play it cool, but the more I think about it, the more it ticks me off.   And over the course of that conversation, it was said that I don’t talk about myself much, and that’s kind of funny, because all I ever do on social media is write long-ass blog posts like this one.  I don’t expect anyone to memorize them, or even read them all the way through, but when I write all this stuff and someone goes out of their way to say they don’t know anything about me, the message is that they just didn’t pay attention to what I was saying, and they didn’t bother to try.

So I’m a little jaded from that, because I got called out for a bunch of stuff I didn’t even do or say, and apparently that’s just a thing that happens.   People will reject you for completely arbitrary reasons, not because of anything you actually said or did, and you’re left thinking you made some terrible mistake.   Except, no, I’ve seen it happen to other people, people a lore more conscientious than I am, and if they can’t satisfy the bullshit purity standards, then I never stood a chance.   If the game is rigged so I can’t win, then I’m not going to play.  

And it’s that same condition that probably draws people into these online holy wars, because if you declare yourself for the pro or anti side, at least then you’ll have a posse backing you up.   Only they don’t support you, they support your willingness to support them.    Once your commitment to their agenda wavers, even in the slightest, they will turn against you.   

Sarah Z suggests that both sides of the war drop the pro and anti terms, since they lost all meaning long ago.   But that just invites a new set of useless terms to perpetuate the same cycle.   Her more useful advice is for fandom people to broaden their horizons.   She got a lot of flak for tweeting “Go outside” once, but the ironic thing is that it’s sound advice.   I had lunch with my mom yesterday and it was just nice getting away from things for a while.   People need to do that more often, and unfortunately it feels like it’s harder to do than ever before.

But “go outside” isn’t just a literal thing.   It can mean going beyond your usual haunts, reading the same books, watching the same shows, rehashing the same conversations.   I think the reason this stuff always revolves around “shipping” is because there seems to be this deep-seated compulsion to pair fictional characters off like this, and for a lot of folks it’s the only way they can consume a story, so they do.   And they do it lot, and there’s a lot of them, and they do it the same way every time, and lo and behold the same old conflicts start up.   So maybe “go outside” should mean “go outside of that cycle once in a while.”   Just a thought. 

[latulasbian-1]

what are your thoughts on kankri? personally i never understood the appeal and im interested to hear your take since he Was on the b tier of your list

OK! Sorry for lateness but I only noticed your question at like 2:00 AM and needed a full tank of brain-gas to be able to convey my thoughts even semi-coherently. 

So Kankri’s a weird one, probably one of the most convoluted and self-contradictory characters in Homestuck. Its fitting given he’s pretty much a one note joke and hussie’s one-note joke characters actually wind up being either his most oddly complex (see: equius and feferi for instance) or most sympathetic (see: Nepeta). Kankri’s a bit of both imo, though I wouldn’t call him a favorite for me. 

Kankri’s characterization is built almost entirely on one fuckin’ note: “LOL AIN’T TUMBLR SJWs FUNNY AND ANNOYING!?!?!?”. If you disagree with this then I don’t even know what to tell you, bc everything from his style of long-winded monologues (that wind up running up on Hussie Ableism Moments bc in-narrative his infodumping is supposed to be annoying???) to his inability to take social cues to his supposed-to-be-interpreted-as-excessive use of trigger warnings to his unapologetic killjoy attitude to his supposed hypocrisy/”privilege” are literally all just a fucking layer cake of anti-SJW stereotypes. This is where the issue of how the fandom interprets Kankri kicks in, as people’s opinions on him (aside from a few diehards) tend to scale from “DAWWW CUTE WIDDLE UPPITY BEANBOY” to “fucking annoying neoliberal”. For the matter, neither of these are intended by Hussie, while he did design him to be cute he wasn’t meant to be hateable for leftist homestuck fans as a (neo-)liberal or faux leftist. Hussie just designed him after everyone hussie found annoying in the social justice community primarily on tumblr. Even his political monologues, though not WITHOUT hypocrisy and bullshit, tend to actually skew towards “pretty fucking reasonable hussie just thinks people being upset by bad stuff is stupid”.  

Now, people cite Kankri being ableist in his criticism of certain other dancestors for ~conforming to stereotypes~, which yes from an in context scenario is pretty fucking bad. If someone IRL is dealing with their disability in a way you think seems pretty stereotypical keep that thought to yourself. HOWEVER, AS ONE OF THE MOST CRUCIAL POINTS TOWARDS KANKRI BEING GENERALLY SYMPATHETIC, WE GET THE META ELEMENT. Hussie, in writing a hypocritical mansplainer who goes on and on and on about everything thats politically incorrect about the people around him, practically beat-for-beat replicates talking points PEOPLE HAVE USED TO CRITICIZE HOMESTUCK ITSELF. YES! MITUNA’S PRESENTATION AS A CHARACTER IS 100% UNAMBIGUOUSLY AWFUL IN ITS PORTRAYAL OF PEOPLE WITH BRAIN INJURIES AND MENTAL DISORDERS. DAMARA IS A RACIST STEREOTYPE SO BAD HUSSIE SHOULD GET THROWN IN JAIL. INCEST IS BAD. If ANYONE in homestuck should’ve pulled the meta knowledge shit in post-canon, kankri would’ve been a WAYYYYYY better candidate than dirk for it, especially since kankri seems halfway to realizing he’s fictional just by political analysis of the story he’s in! Kankri seems to exist at the apex of Hussie’s confusion about fandom, given he’s baffled enough by people being obsessed with his work yet so intensely negative that he can only seem to think of them as obsessive manchild wierdos with no sense of rational thought. As someone who myself unironically loves Homestuck and yet have an entire third of my brain dedicated to ripping it apart on an ethical level, I can see some of myself in that turtleneck’d contrarian. Just because someone is a fan of something doesn’t mean they will or should unthinkingly defend it from all recourse. This is something homestuck as a whole struggles with, I think back to the aspect or extended zodiac quiz where one of the questions amounted to “someone is talking shit about a show you like, how do you respond” and there wasn’t even an answer for “actually listen to what they’re trying to say and consider if they could be right”. Kankri is a symbol of sorts for those critical enjoy-ers, in a way. A stupid silly not-that-meaningful way, but a way. I think people should reclaim him. 

I’ve touched on it a bit before, but the last main sympathizing aspect of kankri for me (aside from personality things like his frankly unearned patience with a friend group that entirely fucking hates his guts) is a trait share by almost all the dancestors: Hussie’s fucking disturbing use of mental illness & psychiatric disorders with them. Between Kankri’s unwillingness to observe common social cues, his overtly poised and practiced manner of speaking, his obsession with using trigger warnings to warn off confrontation in leu of not just speaking his mind with everything, his tendency to cling to certain articles of clothing for long periods of time, his implied difficulty taking care of himself physically, and the fucking insulting “mom-friend useless-manchild-who-needs-nannying” dynamic he has with Porrim, he comes off (intentionally or no) as a beat-for-beat embodiment of an autistic person as seen through Hussie’s tropey and horribly ableist worldview. This is a common trait he shares with both Aranea and Mituna, as well as many of the other dancestors to lesser degrees (many of them, like Mituna, also have OTHER mental disorders flat-out-stated in such a way that makes their depiction just fucking confused and bad). For me, and for at least SOME other people, it makes unbiased critical reactions to them damn near impossible. They deserve better than how hussie can write them. In a lot of ways I have friends like Kankri, and Hussie’d almost fucking certainly find them just as embarrassing and annoying as he meant for Kankri to be. 

So yeah, Kankri isn’t my favorite by any means but i don’t feel like i can or should condemn him. He’s fun. I’d watch his video essays. 

And this isn’t even BEGINNING to touch on how much I loathe Porrim as an example of “good cool fun feminists that hussie can sexualize!” And her more open bisexuality than other trolls being both a tool for fetishization by Hussie and a fucking skin-crawling thing to use as a contrast for Kanaya’s status as either “the only confirmed lesbian in homestuck (until postcanon showed rose was a lesbian too)” or “the only lesbian troll in existence ever bc thats totally how sexuality would work with aliens” (sorry if you ascribe to the “all trolls are bisexual bc they’re supposedly binormative as a get-out-of-jail-free card for hussie’s hetero-ass ship tease shit” then. well get better soon) 

(seriously though everyone who pulls the “kanaya is the only lesbian alternian” shit owes every lesbian 100 dollars) 

#homestuck #kankri #longpost #discourse #Anonymous

[missjanjie]

These Words are My Own (From My Heart) | Crygi

Title: These Words are My Own (From My Heart) Summary:   Gigi brings a journal with her to the Drag Race set, intending to keep it as a way to express her thoughts during the competition and quell her anxiety. Instead, it becomes the narration of a love story that unfolded behind the scenes. Word Count: 2415 Relationship(s): Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode) Rating: M Notes: This is a diary/journal-style fic, so it’s written from Gigi’s POV throughout

read on ao3

July 22nd 2019

I don’t know what I expected from the first day of filming, but it was… a lot. The two group thing puts on that extra level of pressure, and I can already feel a little sliver of anxiety trying to wiggle its way in. Not that I’d ever let it show, of course. It’s way too early to worry.

As far as the other girls… I actually like them all, which, let’s be honest, is the biggest shock of them all. I almost kind of wanted an enemy. But I think I might have found the opposite. Crystal.

Crystal is weird. She’s so fucking weird, but she’s funny and kind and smells really nice and is super cute out of drag. I don’t know where I’m going with this. We just had an instant connection, and I think it’ll be a nice thing to have in a situation like this.

July 25th 2019

Holy shit. The first episode is done. I’m so fucking tired. And I fucking crushed it, oh my god. I didn’t expect anything less, of course. This is a sign for how the competition’s gonna be for me, I just know it.

But anyways.

Crystal told a joke during dinner that made me shoot water out of my nose. Nicky called me a sprinkler for the rest of the night, so fuck her. Besides, Crystal said it was cute. I know, I’m sounding like I have a crush on her, but I don’t. I just appreciate being around her, we get along well. So let me reiterate: I do not have a crush on Crystal.

July 26th 2019

I have a crush on Crystal.

They’re filming the other premiere today and we had some time to sneak away. I don’t know who she got weed from, but I owe them my life. We shared a joint and whenever she had it I just… stared at her. I don’t know how to explain it – she looked all glowy in the sunlight. Her hair – that fucking mullet – looked so soft and shiny, she looked like art.

I hate her. I want to hold her dumb hand and kiss her stupid face.

July 29th 2019

Crystal has a boyfriend. Of course she has a fucking boyfriend. Why wouldn’t she? There’s probably like, six other gay guys in Springfield and I bet they all want her. This is why I don’t do crushes. Crushes are bullshit. This is bullshit.

But… she held my hand in the van today. That was nice.

Fuck.

July 30th 2019

I kinda avoided Crystal on set today. I felt bad but it just made me sad and that’s not something I’m gonna deal with. I think Jackie suspects something’s up though. Her mama bear senses are tingling, I just know it. I thought it’d be annoying, but it’s nice having someone older and wiser keeping an eye on me.

Oh my god, Jackie’s my babysitter. Maybe I should talk to her about Crystal. I feel like she’d listen. She’ll probably try too hard to help, like it’s a puzzle that she needs to solve, but if I have to tell someone, it’d be her. And maybe it’ll make me miss Crystal a little less.

July 31st 2019

I was wrong, Jackie’s not my babysitter, she’s my mom. Not in a bad way, because obviously my mom’s the best, but in that she got very invested in the Crystal situation in the same way my mom always likes to hear about whatever guy I’m dating.

The good news is that Crystal’s relationship is open. I mean, that is good news, right? It feels like it should be, and my heart wants to latch onto the fact that I could have her in some capacity. Having her in any capacity almost feels like it’d be enough, at least for now.

She asked me if something was wrong, said I seemed ‘distant’. What was I supposed to do, tell her the truth? That’s ridiculous. I just apologized and said I was dealing with migraines. She offered to smoke me out next time she gets her hands on anything. And I know I’m not gonna be able to say no to her, there’s no point in even trying.

August 5th 2019

I think Crystal knows I like her. The energy between us has shifted and it… feels kinda good. She’s more touchy, more giggly. I think she even flirted with me today. I don’t know if she figured it out on her own, or if Jackie told her, but she’s onto me.

The thing is, I don’t know what to do about it. Yes, she’s in an open relationship, so it’s ‘technically’ okay, but it’s not the same. I don’t have anything against it, but… I don’t know, maybe I’m just selfish and want Crystal all to myself.

I feel guilty, then I feel stupid for feeling guilty, because I know I don’t need to be. Make it make sense.

August 6th 2019

If Jackie tells me one more time that I ‘need to talk to Crystal about my feelings’, I’m gonna blow up her spot about all those not-so-platonic gazes she keeps directing at a certain singing queen. She thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s not subtle either. I wouldn’t do it on camera, though. That’d get too messy.

Besides, I don’t even know where to begin when it comes to explaining how I feel anyway. I don’t like explaining myself and I don’t like all that ‘bare your soul’ type of emotional intimacy. All I know is that I want Crystal in every way you can want someone. But that doesn’t seem like enough to say. Like, if I’m gonna spill my guts, I’d have to go all out. And I don’t want to do that. So. I’m gonna stay quiet and wait for this to blow over, like a normal person.

August 9th 2019

Crystal kissed me.

We were in the back of the van. I was talking about… I don’t even remember what I was talking about, but out of nowhere, she just kisses me, like it was normal, like it was the easiest thing in the world. It was soft, gentle, but with this little hint of desire that still has me hot under the collar.

And I didn’t know what to say. What the fuck was I supposed to say? I asked, “what was that for?” And she just smiled and said “you look really pretty and I wanted to.”

I wish I could’ve said something smart and funny, or flirt and bat my lashes. But no, that’s Gigi’s confidence and attitude. This was all Sam, an idiot whose brain short-circuited after one kiss. “Oh, thanks,” was all I said and I’m gonna be kicking myself for it until I’m dead. And right now, I’m hoping that’s soon.

August 12th 2019

I kissed Crystal this time. I needed to gain some semblance of control here. She seemed surprised, but also kind of relieved. Had she been worried I was mad or freaked out? Funny enough, her being relieved made me feel relieved too. I think we’re on the same page now. I don’t know what this means for us now, but I feel like it means something.

August 13th 2019

The good news is I’ve got Jackie off my back for now. The bad news is it’s because her girlfriend is probably planning my murder. I mean, at the end of the day, a win is a win. But the bruise I had on my ass for a week is a poignant reminder that Jan was a jock who could snap me in half if she wanted to.

Which is also weirdly hot? I can see why Jackie’s ‘secretly’ pining for her and shit. Or maybe I’m getting too lonely and need to get Crystal’s mouth on me again. Not even in a dirty way, though that mental image sure is nice…

August 14th 2019

Maybe I thought about that mental image too much, because I had a sex dream about Crystal last night, like, a hot one.

We were in the werkroom, the only ones in there, and Crystal’s sitting up on one of the tables, I’m standing in between his legs and we’re making out. Then it’s kinda blurry, but next, we’re both naked and I have him bent over the table. And I can remember pulling his hair and listening to him moan while I fuck him. It felt real, and I haven’t had a wet dream since high school.

I just hope it doesn’t affect me when I get on set, I can’t afford to lose focus because I’m too busy thinking about jumping Crystal’s bones.

August 19th 2019

So… I guess in a way, I manifested more physical intimacy between Crystal and I. I was telling him how I was all stressed and wound up after not doing well in the last challenge, and that I don’t think I did well with this one, and he’s quiet for a moment, then goes “let me help you feel better.”

And I’m just like, okay? I didn’t know what to expect, but then he takes his jacket off and puts it over my lap and… I’m perplexed. I’m intrigued. I’m aroused. Even when he’s undoing my jeans, I’m thinking, ‘there’s no way he’s actually gonna do this, right?’ But the only person that keeps an eye on us in the van is Jackie, and he’s got his own problems to worry about.

Long story short, Crystal jerked me off in the back of the van. It was hotter than I thought it’d be – I guess having to stay quiet because four other queens and a PA could’ve caught us adds an extra thrill. Of course, I would’ve returned the favor if we’d had time. Next time, though. Next time.

August 21st 2019

‘Next time’ did happen, and it came back to bite me on the ass. I didn’t think people really had Freudian slips until the way I said “we’re fucking in the top six” in Untucked. It didn’t help that Crystal had this smirky grin. Ugh, I could’ve died.

I feel like everyone knows, honestly. That they’re just not saying anything to be polite. I’m sure once this is all over, I’ll never hear the end of it, though.

August 24th 2019

I think I’m in love with Crystal. I knew I loved her, admired her, but… it’s more than that. And I think I’ve known for a while, but I haven’t been able to articulate it. Because it feels so different from anything I’ve ever felt before. Crystal is so different from anyone I’ve ever met before.

I don’t know what this means for us when this is all over. It’s not like I expect her to leave her boyfriend and move in with me here in LA. But I wouldn’t say no to that either, you know? Right now I feel selfish, that I just want her all to myself. But maybe I’m just sad that come Monday, it’ll be the last chunk of time we’ll have together for a while.

It’s barely been over a month and I already can’t picture my world without her. And… yeah, I’m in love with her.

August 29th 2019

Crystal and I had one day together before he had to go back home, and we made the most of it. We did the cute shit like go out to eat and take a walk, but I also got to take him back to my apartment and fuck him like I wanted to since day one.

I don’t know what this means for us, now. He’s back in Missouri, getting ready for the next Get Dusted show. I’m here, still in full drag after a photoshoot. I guess this is ‘back to normal’, but I don’t know how anything is ever going to feel normal again.

October 18th 2019

Filming Drag Race feels worlds away now, it’s weird being too busy to write most of the time. But by the same hand, it’s nice to always be occupied, lord knows I need it.

I still talk to Crystal every day, either through text or calls or FaceTime. It’s nice to be reassured he thinks of me as much as I think of him. When I’m alone, I start to worry that maybe this was one-sided. But I don’t need to say that to him, he can tell when I feel weird and talks me down without even trying.

The thing is, I’ve always felt the most beautiful when I am Gigi, like it’s the best representation of who I am. But Crystal makes me feel beautiful even when I just woke up and he’s listening to me complain about greasy skin. I didn’t really think about something like that, about letting someone else make me feel the way I thought I could only do for myself.

Crystal is just that special.

November 2nd 2019

Crystal told me he’s in love with me for the first time. I knew, I think I knew, but I didn’t realize how much it would mean to finally hear it. I cried, and I couldn’t even be embarrassed about it.

What was funny to me was when Crystal apologized. He said he’d known for so long, and felt guilty that he kept waiting to say it. He told me he didn’t think he could give me what he wanted because he wants to stay in Missouri. I told him I don’t care how far apart we are, or who he was with.

We have something special. I don’t care what it is, we’ll make it work. And besides, the promo shoot is just two months away.

January 4th 2020

I can’t even begin to explain how good it feels to be back with the cast. Obviously I’m thrilled to see Crystal, but all of us together just makes me feel whole. Jackie asked me how things with Crystal are, I said they couldn’t be better. I asked how things with Jan are, she said there are ‘a lot of question marks’.

Compared to them, my relationship with Crystal really isn’t that complicated. We love each other, we don’t need to put a label on that. I don’t know what’s going to happen when the show airs, but I know I’ll have Crystal. Even when we’re sixteen hundred miles apart.

#crygi #goodemethyd #rpdr rpf #rpdr fanfiction

[artificialqueens]

These Words are My Own (From My Heart) (Crygi) - Joley

ao3 link

July 22nd 2019

I don’t know what I expected from the first day of filming, but it was… a lot. The two group thing puts on that extra level of pressure, and I can already feel a little sliver of anxiety trying to wiggle its way in. Not that I’d ever let it show, of course. It’s way too early to worry.

As far as the other girls… I actually like them all, which, let’s be honest, is the biggest shock of them all. I almost kind of wanted an enemy. But I think I might have found the opposite. Crystal.

Crystal is weird. She’s so fucking weird, but she’s funny and kind and smells really nice and is super cute out of drag. I don’t know where I’m going with this. We just had an instant connection, and I think it’ll be a nice thing to have in a situation like this.

July 25th 2019

Holy shit. The first episode is done. I’m so fucking tired. And I fucking crushed it, oh my god. I didn’t expect anything less, of course. This is a sign for how the competition’s gonna be for me, I just know it.

But anyways.

Crystal told a joke during dinner that made me shoot water out of my nose. Nicky called me a sprinkler for the rest of the night, so fuck her. Besides, Crystal said it was cute. I know, I’m sounding like I have a crush on her, but I don’t. I just appreciate being around her, we get along well. So let me reiterate: I do not have a crush on Crystal.

July 26th 2019

I have a crush on Crystal.

They’re filming the other premiere today and we had some time to sneak away. I don’t know who she got weed from, but I owe them my life. We shared a joint and whenever she had it I just… stared at her. I don’t know how to explain it – she looked all glowy in the sunlight. Her hair – that fucking mullet – looked so soft and shiny, she looked like art.

I hate her. I want to hold her dumb hand and kiss her stupid face.

July 29th 2019

Crystal has a boyfriend. Of course she has a fucking boyfriend. Why wouldn’t she? There’s probably like, six other gay guys in Springfield and I bet they all want her. This is why I don’t do crushes. Crushes are bullshit. This is bullshit.

But… she held my hand in the van today. That was nice.

Fuck.

July 30th 2019

I kinda avoided Crystal on set today. I felt bad but it just made me sad and that’s not something I’m gonna deal with. I think Jackie suspects something’s up though. Her mama bear senses are tingling, I just know it. I thought it’d be annoying, but it’s nice having someone older and wiser keeping an eye on me.

Oh my god, Jackie’s my babysitter. Maybe I should talk to her about Crystal. I feel like she’d listen. She’ll probably try too hard to help, like it’s a puzzle that she needs to solve, but if I have to tell someone, it’d be her. And maybe it’ll make me miss Crystal a little less.

July 31st 2019

I was wrong, Jackie’s not my babysitter, she’s my mom. Not in a bad way, because obviously my mom’s the best, but in that she got very invested in the Crystal situation in the same way my mom always likes to hear about whatever guy I’m dating.

The good news is that Crystal’s relationship is open. I mean, that is good news, right? It feels like it should be, and my heart wants to latch onto the fact that I could have her in some capacity. Having her in any capacity almost feels like it’d be enough, at least for now.

She asked me if something was wrong, said I seemed ‘distant’. What was I supposed to do, tell her the truth? That’s ridiculous. I just apologized and said I was dealing with migraines. She offered to smoke me out next time she gets her hands on anything. And I know I’m not gonna be able to say no to her, there’s no point in even trying.

August 5th 2019

I think Crystal knows I like her. The energy between us has shifted and it… feels kinda good. She’s more touchy, more giggly. I think she even flirted with me today. I don’t know if she figured it out on her own, or if Jackie told her, but she’s onto me.

The thing is, I don’t know what to do about it. Yes, she’s in an open relationship, so it’s ‘technically’ okay, but it’s not the same. I don’t have anything against it, but… I don’t know, maybe I’m just selfish and want Crystal all to myself.

I feel guilty, then I feel stupid for feeling guilty, because I know I don’t need to be. Make it make sense.

August 6th 2019

If Jackie tells me one more time that I ‘need to talk to Crystal about my feelings’, I’m gonna blow up her spot about all those not-so-platonic gazes she keeps directing at a certain singing queen. She thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s not subtle either. I wouldn’t do it on camera, though. That’d get too messy.

Besides, I don’t even know where to begin when it comes to explaining how I feel anyway. I don’t like explaining myself and I don’t like all that ‘bare your soul’ type of emotional intimacy. All I know is that I want Crystal in every way you can want someone. But that doesn’t seem like enough to say. Like, if I’m gonna spill my guts, I’d have to go all out. And I don’t want to do that. So. I’m gonna stay quiet and wait for this to blow over, like a normal person.

August 9th 2019

Crystal kissed me.

We were in the back of the van. I was talking about… I don’t even remember what I was talking about, but out of nowhere, she just kisses me, like it was normal, like it was the easiest thing in the world. It was soft, gentle, but with this little hint of desire that still has me hot under the collar.

And I didn’t know what to say. What the fuck was I supposed to say? I asked, “what was that for?” And she just smiled and said “you look really pretty and I wanted to.”

I wish I could’ve said something smart and funny, or flirt and bat my lashes. But no, that’s Gigi’s confidence and attitude. This was all Sam, an idiot whose brain short-circuited after one kiss. “Oh, thanks,” was all I said and I’m gonna be kicking myself for it until I’m dead. And right now, I’m hoping that’s soon.

August 12th 2019

I kissed Crystal this time. I needed to gain some semblance of control here. She seemed surprised, but also kind of relieved. Had she been worried I was mad or freaked out? Funny enough, her being relieved made me feel relieved too. I think we’re on the same page now. I don’t know what this means for us now, but I feel like it means something.

August 13th 2019

The good news is I’ve got Jackie off my back for now. The bad news is it’s because her girlfriend is probably planning my murder. I mean, at the end of the day, a win is a win. But the bruise I had on my ass for a week is a poignant reminder that Jan was a jock who could snap me in half if she wanted to.

Which is also weirdly hot? I can see why Jackie’s ‘secretly’ pining for her and shit. Or maybe I’m getting too lonely and need to get Crystal’s mouth on me again. Not even in a dirty way, though that mental image sure is nice…

August 14th 2019

Maybe I thought about that mental image too much, because I had a sex dream about Crystal last night, like, a hot one.

We were in the werkroom, the only ones in there, and Crystal’s sitting up on one of the tables, I’m standing in between his legs and we’re making out. Then it’s kinda blurry, but next, we’re both naked and I have him bent over the table. And I can remember pulling his hair and listening to him moan while I fuck him. It felt real, and I haven’t had a wet dream since high school.

I just hope it doesn’t affect me when I get on set, I can’t afford to lose focus because I’m too busy thinking about jumping Crystal’s bones.

August 19th 2019

So… I guess in a way, I manifested more physical intimacy between Crystal and I. I was telling him how I was all stressed and wound up after not doing well in the last challenge, and that I don’t think I did well with this one, and he’s quiet for a moment, then goes “let me help you feel better.”

And I’m just like, okay? I didn’t know what to expect, but then he takes his jacket off and puts it over my lap and… I’m perplexed. I’m intrigued. I’m aroused. Even when he’s undoing my jeans, I’m thinking, ‘there’s no way he’s actually gonna do this, right?’ But the only person that keeps an eye on us in the van is Jackie, and he’s got his own problems to worry about.

Long story short, Crystal jerked me off in the back of the van. It was hotter than I thought it’d be – I guess having to stay quiet because four other queens and a PA could’ve caught us adds an extra thrill. Of course, I would’ve returned the favor if we’d had time. Next time, though. Next time.

August 21st 2019

‘Next time’ did happen, and it came back to bite me on the ass. I didn’t think people really had Freudian slips until the way I said “we’re fucking in the top six” in Untucked. It didn’t help that Crystal had this smirky grin. Ugh, I could’ve died.

I feel like everyone knows, honestly. That they’re just not saying anything to be polite. I’m sure once this is all over, I’ll never hear the end of it, though.

August 24th 2019

I think I’m in love with Crystal. I knew I loved her, admired her, but… it’s more than that. And I think I’ve known for a while, but I haven’t been able to articulate it. Because it feels so different from anything I’ve ever felt before. Crystal is so different from anyone I’ve ever met before.

I don’t know what this means for us when this is all over. It’s not like I expect her to leave her boyfriend and move in with me here in LA. But I wouldn’t say no to that either, you know? Right now I feel selfish, that I just want her all to myself. But maybe I’m just sad that come Monday, it’ll be the last chunk of time we’ll have together for a while.

It’s barely been over a month and I already can’t picture my world without her. And… yeah, I’m in love with her.

August 29th 2019

Crystal and I had one day together before he had to go back home, and we made the most of it. We did the cute shit like go out to eat and take a walk, but I also got to take him back to my apartment and fuck him like I wanted to since day one.

I don’t know what this means for us, now. He’s back in Missouri, getting ready for the next Get Dusted show. I’m here, still in full drag after a photoshoot. I guess this is ‘back to normal’, but I don’t know how anything is ever going to feel normal again.

October 18th 2019

Filming Drag Race feels worlds away now, it’s weird being too busy to write most of the time. But by the same hand, it’s nice to always be occupied, lord knows I need it.

I still talk to Crystal every day, either through text or calls or FaceTime. It’s nice to be reassured he thinks of me as much as I think of him. When I’m alone, I start to worry that maybe this was one-sided. But I don’t need to say that to him, he can tell when I feel weird and talks me down without even trying.

The thing is, I’ve always felt the most beautiful when I am Gigi, like it’s the best representation of who I am. But Crystal makes me feel beautiful even when I just woke up and he’s listening to me complain about greasy skin. I didn’t really think about something like that, about letting someone else make me feel the way I thought I could only do for myself.

Crystal is just that special.

November 2nd 2019

Crystal told me he’s in love with me for the first time. I knew, I think I knew, but I didn’t realize how much it would mean to finally hear it. I cried, and I couldn’t even be embarrassed about it.

What was funny to me was when Crystal apologized. He said he’d known for so long, and felt guilty that he kept waiting to say it. He told me he didn’t think he could give me what he wanted because he wants to stay in Missouri. I told him I don’t care how far apart we are, or who he was with.

We have something special. I don’t care what it is, we’ll make it work. And besides, the promo shoot is just two months away.

January 4th 2020

I can’t even begin to explain how good it feels to be back with the cast. Obviously I’m thrilled to see Crystal, but all of us together just makes me feel whole. Jackie asked me how things with Crystal are, I said they couldn’t be better. I asked how things with Jan are, she said there are ‘a lot of question marks’.

Compared to them, my relationship with Crystal really isn’t that complicated. We love each other, we don’t need to put a label on that. I don’t know what’s going to happen when the show airs, but I know I’ll have Crystal. Even when we’re sixteen hundred miles apart.

#rpdr fanfiction #gigi goode #crystal methyd #crygi #canon compliant #journal fic #joley #s12

[petri808]

A Floppy Green Mess

Bakudeku Valentine’s story based on this adorably funny art piece by @corzev with permission.  https://corzev.tumblr.com/post/190847911389/dont-repostedit-uhhh-happy-valentines-day-lol

Seated in his desk chair, Bakugou braces his arms along the backing and rests his chin on top.  His eyes narrow and brows twitch as he stares at his bed… or rather what sat upon it.  Tomorrow…  tomorrow might be the death of him, and this reminder was all of his own making.  

He knew that Deku will love this stupid gift since the boy was a complete sap at heart, but coming from him, well, he had to really dig deep to pull it off.  Just sneaking it into his dorm room without being caught had been an undertaking.  He didn’t even want to think about carrying into the common room downstairs or dealing with all the gawking that was sure to come with it.  

Only one other person knew about his plans for Valentine’s day, and even that had been due to an unplanned and pure accident the blonde would have preferred never happened.  Damn that shitty hair for having a similar gift idea for Mina.  Traditionally honmei chocolates were given, but Bakugou could careless about traditions.  Kirishima’s excuse on the other hand, was that Mina hinted at wanting something other than chocolates too.  At least the red head came in useful for sneaking the gifts in, since he didn’t want to get caught either.

But why had he chosen this particular gift?!  He groans and swipes a hand down his face, sitting up in the process.  There were a lot of options at the store, and he’d spent the better half of two hours combing through it for the perfect idea.  

The most cliché gift for Deku would have been an All Might themed item, but that green-haired nerd had too damn many All Might stuff already.  Jewelry was out of his price range, plus he just couldn’t see Deku caring about such material things.  A cool new journal might make him happy, but that was boring.  Finally, when he’d been almost ready to give up and walk out, there it had been at the back of the store.  Propped on a display stand because of its size, it was perfect.  

One big ass stuffed green rabbit plush that was almost bigger than he was.  In fact, he could barely get his arms around it.  He swore the thing even looked like Midoriya, with its bright green eyes and freckles representing whiskers.  The right ear was flopped over, adding to its huggable adorability factor, but on the front of its chest were the words “My Hero.”  Bakugou wasn’t super thrilled with that message, but he couldn’t begrudge the fact the rest of the doll was perfect for his idiot little Valentine.  Deku was bound to adore it, squeeze it, probably snuggle with the damn thing, and it would be like Katsuki living through the doll even if the nerd doesn’t reciprocate his feelings.

‘He better fucking like me back!’  The blonde growls under his breath.  He wouldn’t be taking this embarrassing chance if he thought there wasn’t one.  Eavesdropping on the A-1 girl’s conversations had him pretty convinced that the guy had a secret crush on him.  According to them, Midoriya’s nursed it for years, and it was the whole reason he’s put up with the hot-headed blonde’s abusive attitude.  Bakugou didn’t want to admit that he was quite a bully to the boy their whole life, but he was an asshole to everyone.  Okay… so maybe he was worse to Deku, but the guy could be annoying too.  

‘Then why’d you fall for him?’  

‘Shut up!’  he growls at his conscious.  He had no idea why!  Somehow the damn nerd grew on him!  Yeah, the nerd was still the same annoying ray of sunshine he’s always been but watching the nerd develop after receiving One For All and go from a mouse to a powerhouse on par with him, well, it just happened.  He didn’t even notice the feelings developing, or how he’d started paying more attention to the guy, worried about, and even started acting nicer to him….  

Until one day after an exhaustive training session, they were in the communal showers, and seeing a half-naked Midoriya spiked his heartrate along with something else below the waist.  Thank All Might no one noticed the smoke coming off of his hands due to the level of steam in the room.  He’d quickly dashed back into a shower stall and took a very long cold shower to cope.  But the answer was as clear as a blow to the head.  He was in love with Midoriya Izuku.

Speaking of a shower, the waning light outside of his window signaled dinner would be soon.  He climbs off his chair and gives the stuffed doll one last look before grabbing his things.  A shower might calm his nerves and maybe provide a bit of respite to cool the other physical desires swirling in his brain.  

Bakugou reaches over and silences the alarm clock on his phone.  Unable to get a restful sleep, he’d already been up when the beep signaled the arrival of 8 am Saturday morning.  There wasn’t a rush to get out of bed, knowing that Deku was probably still out cold.  That boy has never been a morning person and on school days it often took a load of coffee to get him past the walking dead stage.  He on the other hand could rise before the sun breached the horizon and get a workout run in before heading to class.      

Another alert from his phone, but this time a message from Kirishima.  ‘I can hear Deku in his room, boy’s early today.’

The blonde sits up.  ‘Don’t panic,’ he tells himself, ‘just because he’s up early doesn’t mean anything.’  He swings his legs over the side of the bed, giving his arms and back a good stretch to warm up the muscles.  

Another alert.  ‘He left his room got his jacket and scarf on.’

“Fuck!”  Where the hell is Deku going this early?!  Bakugou hurries to throw on a pair of pants, a warm turtleneck, and his shoes almost tripping over the pants legs as he puts them on.  He then grabs the rabbit plush and races out of his room, not even stopping to close the door behind him.  This thing was so cumbersome to carry!  Hoisting it over his shoulder, he descends the staircase, figuring it would be faster.  He takes them two by two, practically throwing himself down the flights and slamming his shoulder against the open bar once he makes it to the bottom.

Crap! Crap! Crap!  The second he bursts through the stairwell entrance, Bakugou see’s Deku almost at the front door.  “Oi!  Nerd!”  He screams as he breaks into a sprint.

Deku hears someone calling his name and stops, turning towards the source.  “Oh, hey Kacchan!”  He waves with a beaming smile.

How is Deku so awake already?!  To Bakguou this was quite out of character for the guy to be lively in the morning.  He stops a couple of feet from the green-haired man.  “Where the fuck you headin’ so early?”  

“Um, well, you know my mom is all alone,” Deku flushes a little embarrassed, “so I was gonna meet her for brunch as a Valentine’s treat.”

‘That’s it?!’  Bakugou lets out an exhale of relief because deep down he’d feared his crush was about to go meet a potential rival.  Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.  “Oh.  Tch, sounds like the sappy kind of shit you’d think to do.”    

“Um, Kacchan, what do you have there?”  Midoriya points to the doll.  “Is that a gift from someone?”  His eyes crinkle, “do you have an admirer?!”

“What?!”  Oh, wait the doll!  How the fuck could he forget about the big ass plush rabbit in his arms.  “Hell, no this isn’t from anyone!  Who the fuck would give me a stuffed animal?!”

Midoriya giggles, he didn’t think so least they were ready to be incinerated.  “Then why do you have it?”

Immediately, the hot-heads blood pressure goes through the roof.  His cheeks heat up and burst into a dark reddish hue.  He averts his eyes, nervous and embarrassed.  “It’s for you Deku.”  Bakugou holds the doll out.  “You know for the holiday and crap.”

“What?!”  This surely wasn’t really happening.  Deku pinches his arm, for he had to still be dreaming. Waking up early was playing tricks on his mind.  “No way, y-you got me a-a gift?  Does that mean?”

This bitch was going to make him say it!  The blonde growls, “damn are you gonna accept it?” He tries again to thrust the doll towards his crush.  “Be my fucking Valentine Deku?”

There was no warning, no rimming of moisture, or light clouding in his eyes.  The moment Bakugou said the last three words, tears explode from Midoriya like the uncorking of a champagne bottle.  Even the hot head was taken aback by the sheer volume of liquid pouring out.  How was it even possible?!  And if that wasn’t crazy enough….  In the middle of the fountain action, the man goes limp and drops like a dead weight to the floor.  

“Stupid fucking nerd!”  Bakugou drops the stuffed rabbit, quickly slides onto his knees and pulls the collapsed man into his lap.  “Oi!  Dumb ass wake up!” he shakes his crush, but the guy was unresponsive.  Shit!  Did he hit his head or something?  “Deku this isn’t funny!” He slaps the unconscious man.  He could see the headline’s now: Pro hero dies from bunny shock.  “Wake up!”

Leave it to Deku to give him a heart attack on Valentine’s Day.  He can feel the eyes of observers on his back boring in, judging.  Of course, with his personality, it would be easy to blame him for hurting someone.  But there’s no way he’d ever hurt Deku!  Not willingly.  Who could have predicted this damn nerd would go into shock and collapse?!  Tears cloud his ruby red eyes and he cradles the man’s face against his cheek.  “This is bullshit!”  But his growls are a facade as the panic takes over.  “Deku wake the fuck up!”

Stupid rabbit doll!  Had the cute and cuddly plush toy been too much?  He’d figured Deku would love it.  Surely it wasn’t the fact he’s the one who asked the nerd to be his Valentine?  Was it really that shocking?  Okay fine, so it would seem out of character for him, especially with their history, but they’d gotten past all that and were on good terms now.  Even the crying was something he somewhat expected.  Maybe not the volume, but let’s face it, the man was a crier.      

After what felt like a million years yet in the flash of minutes, Bakugou feels his friend stirring in his arms.  He gives another shake.  “Get up nerd!”

Midoriya’s eyes open, blinking from the harsh glare that meets it.  “Ka…cchan?”  He looks around, “why am I on the floor?”  But then he notices the moisture in his friend’s eyes.  He sits up quickly.  “Oh no, what’s wrong?!  Y-You’re crying!”

“What?!  No!” Bakugou shoves the man off his lap and wipes away the tears he won’t admit had gathered.  “I don’t cry!”

“But…”

“I wasn’t crying!  You just had me worried cause you fucking collapsed!”

That’s when the whole Valentine’s confession sweeps back into Midoriya’s mind like a blaring reminder alert.  “R-Right… Kacchan wants to be my Valentine,” he mumbles under his breath as if his brain is still processing the events before it short circuited.  The stuffed plush rabbit lay off to the side, so he pulls it over and hugs it close.  “I’m sorry I worried you,” he peers up at the red-faced man in front of him, smiling, sniffling, and tucking his chin into the dolls soft head.  “Of course, I’ll be your Valentine Kacchan.”

Bakugou looks away, embarrassed.  “I’m not forcing you to be you know.”

“Huh?”  Midoriya sits up straighter.  “I know you’re not!”  He scoots closer on his knees, placing the doll beside them.  He reaches out and takes hold of the blonde’s hand, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.  “I was a little surprised, is all to get a gift from you.”

“Tch, well don’t read too much into it.”

“Oh…”

The blonde watches his crush deflate right before his eyes.  Shoulders slumped, and body hunched a little as if the man before him wanted to curl into a ball.  He can see the tears building again in Midoriya’s eyes.  

“…okay.  Thank you very much for the gift Kacchan, but I should be on my way.”  If his body hadn’t communicated how he felt from Bakugou’s words, his tone sure did.

A stinging arrow pierces the blonde’s heart.  He’d gone too far with the remark and the sensitive man was taking it hard.  ‘Idiot!’  he growls at himself.  Sometimes his mouth really needed a filter.  As his crush stood ready to leave, Bakugou grabs his wrist, still from a seated position.  He couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man and keeps his eyes glued to the floor.

“Kacchan?”

He squeezes Midoriya’s wrist, “I didn’t….” a sigh escaping his lips, “...didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”  His brows furrow, annoyed and upset with himself for ruining the moment.  “I’m still coming to terms with the idea…. that I really like you.”  He can feel his entire body heating up from the proclamation being said out loud for anyone within range to hear it.  There was a mixture of fear, anxiety, melded with excitement and a feeling of liberation all seeping through his frame.  “Like… in a romantic way.”

“Kaachan, get up.”  Though Midoriya’s words were a demand, his timbre was gentle and lulls Bakugou into at least looking up at the man.  “Come on,” he reverses the grip on his wrist, taking hold of the man’s arm, and tugging gently, “get up.”

Once the blonde has allowed himself to be pulled up, Midoriya refuses to let go, instead switching to the man’s hand.  He intertwines their fingers with a smile.  “I like you too.  Would you like to come with me to see my mom?  I know she won’t mind.  We can say hi to your parents too while we’re in the area.”

“Are you sure, I don’t want to be a third wheel…”

“No way!  I’d rather you come along,” the nerdy man flushes red, “it can be kind of like our first date.”

Date!  Is what he wanted to scream.  “Okay fine, I’ll tag along but I’m not calling it a date cause dates are for saps.”  

That just makes Midoriya laugh, of course this man would think dates are sappy.

“But, what about the rabbit,” Bakugou motions to the doll, “you’re not taking that with us, right?  It’ll be a pain in the ass on the train…  trust me.”

Again, the man laughs, “I’ll put it in my dorm room.  Wait for me here in the foyer?”  

“I’ll come with you, gotta grab my jacket and wallet since I hadn’t dressed to go out.”

“Oh, right,” more laughter.

As they stop to part ways in front of Midoriya’s dorm room, and before letting go of the man’s hand, Bakugou leans forward hesitantly, then places a quick kiss on his crushes his lips.  “It’ll just be a couple minutes to grab my stuff.”  The green-haired man turns bright red and sputters out a few incoherent words.  The blond laughs, at least he didn’t faint this time.      

#bakudeku #bakudeku fan fic #katsuki bakugou #Midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #katsuki x izuku #bakudeku fanfiction #valentines day #fluffy #fan art inspired #bnha #kacchan #deku

[rockettoikah]

THIS. Nagpintig yong tenga ko ih. Andami dami na ngang nangyayari sa mundo dagdag pa to. Im just pissed how confident he was. Its bullshit you know. First of all kuya, Im not your pet to wag my tail every time you’re fuckin bored! kingina mo lang! Alam mo yon, lahat na siguro ng category ng katanghan check na check sa checklist ko. You only reminds me how stupid I was before. He was this guy/sir who I wrote before... 

“Do you want to know the worst part about walking away?” she asks him.

“It’s hoping that they’ll run after you. That they’ll stop you and tell you not to leave. That they’ll beg you to stay. That they’ll tell you they need you, she says.’ but they never do. They never did.’“

I guess after all this time, this will be the perfect time to tell you that I’ll be fine. I guess letting it all spill out will let this heavy heart breathe. Maybe it’s the perfect time that you let me go. Just so you know, I’m listening to Caleb’s “I need you today” and my heart hurts so bad. Very bad.

Sir! Ang sakit, sobra. Sobra lang. I was expecting you to talk to me and give me a tight hug for my last day. I was expecting that you’ll treat me like before. I was expecting that I can talk to you without awkwardness. I was expecting that it will be a “see you soon” instead of “goodbye”. And do you know what’s worst about it? it’s that I expected too much and it’s making me sad. Maybe you got tired of waiting, maybe you’re just busy with all your priorities and dreams in life, maybe you just loved me because you needed me. Maybe it was my fault for not looking at you until the time you started  not to care. Maybe you were tired waiting for answers that I can’t fill right now, pero di ba pag mahal mo hihintayin mo? Di ba pag mahal mo ipaglalaban mo? Di ba pag mahal mo ipapadama sa’yo na importante ka? ehh bakit di ko naramdaman yon sir? bakit?

All these photos were the time I’m with you,and I miss the time whenever we’re alone talking about life and how worst our day went. I miss the time you tease me with things I really do hate. I miss your small gestures like sitting beside me and saying nothing haha. I just miss everything about you del. I’m sorry for not looking at you agad, for losing hope because of another guy. Pero ikaw ngay yong gusto ko, siguro napagod ka lang maghintay. Pero bakit?

Truth is I can’t focus reviewing because of having thoughts of you, kaya ok na siguro to. I’ll slowly let my heart heal. Maybe we’re not just meant for each other, maybe we cross paths just to be a better person to someone. Thank you for everything, thank you for letting me learn from my faults and taught me to be independent. Thank you for believing when no one did, even myself. Salamat kasi naging proud ka sa akin, mamimiss ko yong “Architect ko yan” na phrase. hahaha. Thank you sir. Walking away from you and the company will be painful, but i’ll be fine. Soon. Salamat sa mga memorable na experience. I hope this will never be a goodbye. And I hope if we cross roads again I’ll be a better person than before, so are you. I love you, i always will. Isang bagsak naman jan sa Qa mong magsisign off na. hahah

I used to say I love you I used to say I miss you And now it's all gone Are we fading away  

-I need you more today...

Siya yong reason why I had hard time focusing on my review, he was the reason why my friends hated me so much, he was the guy I fought for, kasi alam ko “baka pwede”, he was all my good “what ifs”, he was this guy who made me feel miserable for missing him so much pero in return he never ask,he never cares. TANGA nga talaga pag tinamaan ka.. its funny back reading my blog and seeing this

I Miss You

* I miss your scent.

* I miss the way you stare at me.

* I miss the way you try to tease and piss me off.

* I miss the way you touch my ear and hair

* I miss our Jollibee nights

* I miss our late night dates

* I miss the way I call you sir, kasi hindi ko talaga alam itatawag ko sayo

* I miss taking care of you.

* I miss to touch your hand in a pasaway way.

* I miss our fights. Kasi slow at mapride ka.

* I miss the way you teach me in every little way.

* I miss talking to you, yong sobrang dami mong kwento tapos ako makikinig lang.

* I miss getting mad at you everytime you smoke

* I miss your seloso face

* I miss the way you tryna look or find me pag asa taas ako at nagawi ka doon.

* I miss your not manly attitude

* I miss sitting next to you.

* I miss your table.

* I miss the way you sit beside me without saying anything

* I miss our walk thrus and punchlisting pero nagchichikahan lang talaga tayo

* I miss making fun at you kasi pikon ka

* I miss the times you react or comment sa my day ko.

* I miss waiting at you to say pasalubong whenever I go to baguio.

* I miss your torpe attitude

* I miss doing accomplishment reports with you.

* I miss the time i miss you sa site kasi sobrang busy mo din sa ibang site.

* I miss your pissed face kasi d ko sinsagot yong call mo

* I miss your voice

* I miss waiting at you kapag ot ka kasi wala ako kasama umuwi

* I miss the time you care kahit ayaw mong ipakita

* I miss eating siopao and chicken with you

* I miss you treating me pero fuck ikaw lagi nagpapalibre

* I miss the time you dont have to ask what my order kasi alam mo na yong gusto ko.

* I miss the time you tryna chat me kasi nga hindi kita kinausap ng buong araw bec of a girl haha which is hindi naman dapat.

* I miss you taking pictures at me tapos bigla bigla mo nlng isesend sa akin.

* I miss the way you smile kasi sinabi ko na bagay mo and minsan ngiting aso ugh.

* I miss saying your hair is too long na gupit time, tapos the next day gagawin mo naman kahit sobrang ot ka.

Its been 2 months love, and everyday it hurts so bad. Ang bigat lang sa feeling na yong taong di mo matiis kayang kaya kang tiisin na wag kausapin. Amindo ako na my last day was really not that good. We didnt even talk the whole day. I was actually pissed that day because you know the reason why but you didnt dare talk to me.. kaya I decided to end my shift.. I decided to leave, but I only wanted to see how important I am to you. Nasagot ko pala agad. Sometimes nakakalimutan natin iremind sa sarili natin na madami magkakagusto sayo but few will value you. And whats making it worst is that vinalue mo yong taong gusto ka lang. haaay kaya hayan nilista ko nalang lahat ng bagay na naminiss ko sayo... let me MISS you until I don't anymore.

SEE? I was at the state where lahat na lang iniintindi ko, ni ligaw nga ako na gumawa p*Ta.. but in return ako lang pala. Every time I was at this situation, lagi kong sinisisi yong self ko but it should be the other way around. I started changing my sail, yes, without the thoughts of you, natuto akong magself love and I really pity myself now. GRABE ang effort ko pala. And I dont deserve a guy like you, thats what I told myself, now I’m sailing and catching my dreams without you of course and I dont regret it. It feel so peaceful na din my heart’s at peace. But it pisses me off how insensitive you are. Dude hindi ikaw buhay ko so wag kang magbida bida and magpapansin because Im done with you and I dont wanna waste my time with you. I shouldn’t be posting this pero triggered na ako ehh Sineseen ko na nga lang patol pa ng patol sa messenger. BORED ka ghorl?? ish.. PRAY for better days nalang ugggh

#ish #life lately

[foreverwayward]

“Wayward Hearts Season 3 Chapter 5: Red Sky at Morning

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 8512

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

Maple Springs was left in the rearview mirror as the three drove into the dark highway that night. Dean’s foot seemed heavier on the gas as Baby roared down the road. 

With Riley in the back seat and Sam in the front, there was a cloud that sat over them all in the silence of the ride. There was no music coming from the stereo and Dean had stayed quiet long enough.

“So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs. One of you got something to tell me?”

Sam played dumb and answered almost in a question. “It's not your birthday…”

“No.”

“...happy Purim?” The younger brother laughed. “Dude, I don't know. I have no idea what you're talking about--”

Cutting Sam off mid-sentence, Dean went firm. “There's a bullet missing from the Colt. You want to tell me how that happened?” 

His eyes went to the mirror to look at Riley and she didn’t acknowledge his glance. 

“I know it wasn't me. So, unless one of you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans...”

“Dean…”

“You went after her, didn’t you? The Crossroads Demon. After I told you not to.”

Riley sighed before joining the conversation with her eyes shut, “it wasn’t just him, Dean.”

Dean practically rolled his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me? You both could have gotten yourself killed!”

“But we didn’t!”

“And you shot her.”

“Hell ya I did,” Sam replied. “She was a smartass!”

After taking a beat, Dean asked the one question that flooded his mind. “So, what? Does that--does that mean I'm out of my deal?”

“Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean? No. Someone else holds the contract. She wouldn’t say who.”

“Well, we should find out who. Of course, our best lead would be the Crossroads Demon. Oh, wait a minute…”

Riley softly shook her head as Dean peered back at her again. “That’s not funny, Dean.”

“No, it's not!” he barked back. “It was a stupid fucking risk and you shouldn't have done it.”

Finally meeting his stern look, Riley stared back incredulously. “We shouldn’t have done it? Are you kidding me?”

“She’s right, Dean. This is bullshit,” Sam agreed. “You’re my brother; Riley loves you. And no matter what you do, we’re gonna try and save you. And we’re sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, alright?”

Silence fell over the Impala once again. Riley leaned back with her arms folded and Sam sighed heavily in exasperation. Dean’s stare continued down the road with nothing left to say to either of them.

“Sam,” Riley called to him with her abilities. “Please don’t tell him.” She saw her brother's large shoulders tense at her voice. Sam was still angry with Riley over her trying to make a deal for Dean’s soul. “Sam…?”

“I wouldn’t do that…” Sam thought. “It would kill him.”

------

Impersonating officers of the law to interview a witness, Riley and the Winchesters stood in the home of the witness to their newest case. Her finely decorated house sat right at the edge of the bay. 

The witness’ name was Gertrude Case, an elegant and well-groomed woman in her early 70’s. She held a picture of her beloved, now deceased niece.

“But I don't understand. I already went over all this with the other detectives.”

“Right, yes. But, see...” Dean began their cover story. “We're with the Sheriff's Department, not the police department--different departments.”

Sam went straight to business. “So, Mrs. Case…”

“Please,” the woman cooed as she looked intently at Sam. “Ms. Case.”

“Okay. Um, Ms. Case, uh--you were the one who found your niece, correct?”

“I came home, she was in the shower. The coroner said she drowned. Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?”

Riley jumped in, trying to ignore the intense sexual thoughts and emotions that dripped from Mrs. Case. She cleared her throat. “Was Sheila acting strangely in any way in the days before she died? Did she seem scared or possibly say anything out of character…?”

“Wait a minute,” Gertrude paused. “You're working with Alex, aren't you?”

“Alex?” Riley asked before nodding her head in a lie. “Oh, sure. Yeah, Alex has been a huge help.”

“Why didn't you say so? Alex has been such a comfort. But, I’m sorry, I thought the case was solved.”

Sam leaned onto his right foot to shift his weight before replying, “Uh...well, no. No, not yet.”

“I see.”

“So, anyway, we were talking about your niece.”

“Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat.”

“A boat?” Dean asked.

“Yes. One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a...ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.” Every word she said seemed to be only directed at Sam. Gertrude’s eyes sat on him with hunger.

Thrown off by her intense regard, Sam answered awkwardly, “well, um...could be.”

“Well, you let me know if there's anything else I can do for you.” Coming closer to Sam, she slowly ran a finger along Sam’s hand. 

He looked beyond uncomfortable while Dean and Riley tried not to laugh. 

“Anything at all.”

------

The three moseyed along the dock, the gentle sound of lapping water touching the shore. The ocean port was crowded with pristine, rather large boats owned by the obviously wealthy.

“What a crazy old broad,” Dean joked.

“Why?” Sam asked. “Because she believes in ghosts?”

Dean laughed. “Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound.”

“Bite me.”

Nibbling her lip as a laugh tried to force its way out, Riley couldn’t help the urge to tease her brother. “She might bite you first, Sam.” He glared at her and she chuckled to herself. “So, do we know an Alex? Another hunter maybe?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't change our job.”

“And it looks like we’re dealing with some kind of ghost ship.”

“Yeah. It's not the first one sighted around here, either. Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing, three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings.”

Dean glanced down at the wood at his feet before looking back up. “So, whatever's happening is just getting started. What's the lore?”

“Well,” Riley interjected. “Apparitions of shipwrecks are sighted all over the world. The Griffin, the S.S. Violet, the Flying Dutchman--and all of them? Death omens.”

“So, what happens? You see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?”

“Looks like.”

“What's the next step?”

“Sam I.D.’s the boat.”

The younger brother scoffed through a laugh. “Oh, sure. I’m gonna do that.”

“Yup,” she smiled. “‘Cause you just love me so much.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam teased. “Sure. I mean, there’s only over a hundred and fifty three-mast clipper ships that have wrecked of the coast.”

“Wow,” Dean added. “Well, shit.”

“Mhm.”

They quickly went up the concrete steps that took them to the main street level. The air was salty with the breeze that blew through with seagulls crying close by. 

As they reached the road, the three approached an empty parking space. Dean looked around confused.

“This is where we parked the car, right?”

“I thought so,” Sam answered as he watched Dean walk into the spot.

Dean’s body language changed as he grew more and more tense. “Where's my car?”

“Did you feed the meter?”

With his voice starting to rise in panic, Dean’s anxiety grew. “Yes, I fed the meter. Sam, where's my car? Somebody stole my car?!” he shouted.

Riley could feel his legitimate worry and fear that he had possibly lost Baby. She saw him double over and ran to him. “Hey, Dean, you gotta calm down.”

“I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca--” the Winchester began to hyperventilate and bent over, clutching his knees to calm himself.

At his gasping, Riley and Sam both tried to talk him down. “Take it easy, Dean. It’ll be alright.”

A deep voice with a British accent spoke out from ahead. They all stood up only to see Richard sauntering in their direction. He took off his sunglasses to look at the three hunters. “The '67 Impala? Was that yours?”

“Richard,” Riley sighed in exasperation.

“I'm sorry. I had that car towed.”

“You what?!” Dean barked at him.

“Well, it was in a tow-away zone.”

“No, it fucking wasn't, you douchebag!”

Richard leaned in with a pleased grin. “It was when I finished with it.”

“Why?” Riley asked in a frustrated, but drained tone. Her hands found her hips as she glared at him. “Just--why are you here?”

“A little yachting,” he replied flippantly.

“You're Alex,” Sam scoffed. “You're working with that old lady.”

“Gert's a dear old friend. A bit grabby, but a sweet lady nonetheless.”

“Yeah, right. What's your angle?”

“There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform séances so they can commune with their dead cats.”

Dean’s face scrunched in disgust. “Yeah, I’m sure you perform all kinds of helpful services. Ugh. And you’re conning them--none of it’s real.”

“The comfort I provide them is very real.”

“How do you sleep at night?” Sam asked.

“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money.” Richard’s eyes landed on Riley with a strong sexual tension in them. Dean noticed and immediately grit his teeth. “Really, Sam. I'd expect the attitude from Dean, but you?”

“You fucking shot me!”

“I barely grazed you,” Lewis mocked. “Good, god, Sam. About time you toughened up, don’t you think?”

It took all of Sam’s strength not to clock Richard across his face. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared with rage.

Riley had so much disdain for Lewis that his mere presence was enough to irritate her. She was sickened by the way he eyed her like a piece of meat. “So, I’m assuming that you know what’s going on around here. The whole ‘ghost-ship’ story is real.”

“I'm aware. Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way.”

“It isn't,” Dean added with a scowl on his face.

“She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers. Look...just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. And I'd get to that car if I were you...before they find the arsenal in the trunk.” With a cocky smile, Richard put his sunglasses back on before winking at Riley. “See you around, Munroe.” He turned to leave and straightened his well-tailored coat as he walked off.

“Can I shoot him?” Dean seethed.

“Not in public,” Sam and Riley answered in unison.

------

The next day, Riley and the Winchesters had gone to another house of yet another mysterious drowning. The entire property had become a crime scene. Police officers had taped off the home and their radios could be heard throughout.

Ahead, Riley spotted Richard talking to the victim’s brother. She tossed her head back and groaned. “I’ll ask again...why?” she whined.

The brother of the victim was still shaken and obviously reeling from the earlier events. 

Richard was interviewing him, posed as a reporter. He was using a fake American accent and really playing into his role. “I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Warren. Now, if you could just tell me one more time about the ship your brother saw.”

Riley, Sam, and Dean pulled out their badges to flash them before shoving them back away. They all looked irritated and Dean stared Lewis down. “I think this man's been through quite enough. You should go.”

Still holding his recording device, Richard told them coolly, “I just have a few more questions.”

“No, you don't,” Sam told him firmly.

Richard shot the brothers daggers with his eyes before feigning respect for Mr. Warren. “Thank you for your time.” As he walked past Riley, his hand brushed up against hers purposefully and he shot her a playful look.

“Sorry you had to deal with that,” the older Winchester told the grieving brother. “They're like roaches.” Dean raised his voice so that Richard could hear him. 

He turned back to glare at the hunter and Dean shot him a harsh leer before Lewis scoffed and left. 

“Did he touch you?” he asked Riley quietly.

“I’m fine, Dean,” she replied. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“Pfft. He’s not getting to me. I just--wanna kill him is all.”

Sam had already pulled Mr. Warren to the side to talk as Riley and Dean joined them. “So, it’s Peter, right? Peter Warren? We heard you say your brother saw a ship.”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“Did he tell you what it looked like?” Dean asked.

“It was, uh--like the old Yankee clippers. A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging--angel figurehead on the bow.”

Riley looked at the man curiously. “Wow. That’s pretty specific detail for a ship you didn’t even see.”

“My brother and I were night diving. I saw the ship, too.”

The three shared a knowing look of worry before Sam turned to notice Richard. He was talking to officers and pointing to Riley and the brothers’ direction. 

Sam nudged Dean and he quickly wrapped things up.

“Alright. Well, we'll be in touch. Thank you for your time.”

------

Later that afternoon, the family of three loaded their shotguns at the trunk of the Impala in the nearby woods. It didn’t take long before they were joined once again by an unwelcome voice that approached them from behind.

“I see you got your car back.”

Dean had to briefly shut his eyes to contain his frustration before replying, “you really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?”

“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure, Dean. Why are you even still here? You have enough to I.D. the boat.”

As Riley snapped the gun back into place she stared Richard down. “The brother? He saw the ship.” 

Dean closed the trunk as they all turned to face Lewis.

“Yeah? And?”

“...and he’s gonna die. So, now we gotta save him.”

Richard found slight humor in the comment and smirked with a soft chuckle. “Oh, Riley. How sweet. Always ready to run into the fray. Though I’ll admit, one of the many reasons I’ve always found you so interesting,” he added with a sly look.

Sam butt into the conversation with a scoff, “dude, back the hell off. And what? You think this whole thing is funny?

“He's cannon fodder. He can't be saved in time and you know it.”

“Hmm. Yeah, well, see, we have souls, so…” Sam said plainly as they all went to get in the car. “...we're gonna try.”

“Yeah, well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put an end to this. But you have fun.”

Sam, Dean, and Riley looked at each other, exasperated before Dean marched over to the smug visitor. “Hey, Dick, how'd you get like this, huh? What, did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?”

Lewis fought not to let his face show how offended he was. “I don't know. Your daddy give you enough?” 

The two men shared an obvious moment of desire to fight. 

Riley could feel the tensions rising and a part of her hoped Dean would hit Richard. 

“Don't you dare look down your nose at me,” Richard told him. “You're not better than I am.”

“We help people.”

With a scoff, Richard went on. “Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw from being a serial killer. Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me--which is healthier?”

“Richard,” Sam interrupted. “Why don't you just leave? We've got work to do.”

“Yeah. You're 0 for 2. Bang-up job so far.”

As he left, the others sighed as Riley ran a hand through her hair. “I’m starting to think shooting him in public isn’t such a bad idea.”

------

When night had fallen, Riley and the boys sat in front of the Mr. Warren’s large house. Back in their day to day clothes, they had decided to stake-out the place in hopes of catching whatever was going to come after the man. 

Riley had her feet up as she lounged in the back seat finishing her candy bar. As Sam went over his findings on the Warren brothers, Dean’s eyes sat on Peter in the window.

“I don’t get it. I mean, both brothers are Duke University grads--no criminal record. I mean, a few speeding tickets. They inherited their father's real estate fortune six years ago.”

“How much?” Dean asked.

“$112 million.”

Riley whistled in response. “Real estate, huh? I’m in the wrong business obviously.”

“Yeah. I mean, nice, clean, aboveboard. So, why did they see the ship? Why Sheila, too? What do they all have in common?”

“Maybe nothing,” Dean added.

“No. There's always something.”

Peter had spotted them through his window and came out of the house toward them. Stopping at the security gate, he shouted, “hey, you!”

“Think we’ve been made, boys.” Riley was the first to get out of the car as the Winchesters followed.

“What are you guys doing?! You watching me?”

As they neared the panicked man, Sam tried to reason with him. “Sir, calm down. Please.”

“You guys aren't cops! Not dressed like that. Not--not in that shitty car.”

Dean was taken back and chuckled. “Whoa, hey. No need to get nasty.”

Hoping she could appeal to Peter, Riley gently put her hands up as a soft surrender. “We are cops, sir. We’re just undercover. We think you might be in danger, Mr. Warren.”

“From who?!”

“We can talk about this. Let’s all just calm down.”

“Look, you guys just stay away from me!” Peter demanded as he ran to his own car to get in.

At the gate, Dean yelled, “hey, dumbass! We’re trying to help you!” 

Peter’s Mercedes approached the opposite side of the entryway and the car shuddered before coughing and dying. 

“That can't be good,” Dean stated.

“No. Get the salt gun,” Sam told his brother as he and Riley hopped the short fence. Together, went into a full sprint across the property.

Inside Peter’s car, a spirit dressed in the clothes of an old seaman sat in his backseat. He wore a navy coat, his long hair soaking wet and dripping into his eyes with his right hand missing. 

Mr. Warren peered back to look, but the spirit was gone. As he turned, the spirit was sitting in the passenger seat. The ghost glared at Peter and reached out to touch his cheek.

The man immediately began to convulse, choking on cold, salty water that spilled out of his mouth as he fought for air. He scrambled for the door, which locked itself and Peter finally slumped over the steering wheel.

Sam got to the car as the Winchester shouted into the driver’s window, “Peter!”

When Riley reached the passenger side, she gasped at the spirit staring her down. There was so much rage exploding from the ghost that she shuddered at the feeling.

Across the way, Dean hollered as he rushed in their direction, “guys! Get down!” 

The two ducked down as Dean fired his shotgun into the window. It shattered at the salt round’s impact as the spirit disappeared.

Riley quickly stood and reached through the broken glass to unlock the car door. Sam yanked the driver-side door open and pulled Peter back against his seat; water still pouring from his mouth with his eyes wide open. The hunter checked for a pulse, but after a few seconds, his shoulder slumped and he sighed in defeat. Sam shook his head at the others and Riley groaned putting her hands in her hair. 

As the thunder in the distance rumbled, Dean kicked the car door in frustration. 

Against their best efforts, they were too late.

------

Lights from around them flickered through the windows of Baby as Dean drove her down the local highway. The radio was going with an announcer discussing the weather.

“With what started out as a mild breezy night, a severe weather front is headed in from the Northwest. Expect heavy lightning and thunder, with sudden rainfall--”

Dean shut off the radio with his eyes never leaving the road. “Do either of you wanna say it or should I?”

“What?” Sam asked.

“You can't save everybody”

Riley scoffed under her breath. “Right. So, does saying that make you feel better?”

“No, not really.”

“This isn’t even about us not being able to save Peter, is it?”

With a heavy sigh, Dean replied, “you gotta understa--”

Immediately cutting his brother off, Sam’s face fell flat with both sadness and defeat. “It’s just lately, I feel like I can't save anybody.”

The car fell silent with Sam, Dean, and Riley lost in their own thoughts. 

Reaching out to her brother, Riley solemnly spoke through her abilities. “Me too, Sam.”

------

An abandoned and worn Victorian style home sat on the corner of a quiet street. The windows had been boarded up; the yard was a mess and wildly overgrown. It was the perfect place for the hunters to stay while they worked the case.

As Sam sat at a table reading about shipwrecks, Riley gently strummed her guitar as she tuned it. Dean was mindlessly playing a game on his phone off to the side of the room. The only time he seemed to look up was to sneak a glance at the woman in front of him with a soft smile.

When there was a knock at the door, Dean got up to check it out. A small, rusted and squeaky door opened as a peephole. Dean opened it and rolled his eyes seeing Richard staring back at him. The Winchester closed the tiny door before sharing a long look with Riley and Sam. 

Reluctantly, he opened the door and Richard waltzed in wearing a high-end suit, carrying a leather portfolio.

“Dear...god,” he muttered as he looked around the house. “Are you actually squatting? ...charming.” Lewis walked further inside to join the others. “So. how'd things go last night with Peter?” When no one responded, he asked, “that well, huh?”

Dean’s jaw slightly clenched and Richard turned in his direction. “If you say 'I told you so', I swear to God I'll start fuckin’ swinging.”

“Look, I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart.”

“That's assuming that you have a heart,” Dean snarked.

“Dean, please...I'm sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts. I've ID'd the ship.” Richard unzipped his portfolio to pull out his findings as Dean sat next to Riley. “It's the Espírito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel--quite a colorful history. In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was 37.”

Sam immediately added, “which would explain the 37-year cycle.”

“Aren't you a sharp tack? There's a photo of him somewhere…” Lewis took a beat as he flipped through the paperwork. “Here...” 

As the three studied at the photo, they quickly shared a knowing look. Riley pointed at one of the men in the picture before saying, “isn’t that the guy from last night?”

“You saw him?”

“That’s definitely him. I looked him right in the eyes. But...he was missing a hand.”

“His right hand?” Riley nodded at Richard’s question and he went on. “The sailor's body was cremated, but not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory.”

“A hand of glory?” Dean smirked. “I think I got one of those recently.” The older brother chuckled with a quick glance towards Riley. She met his gaze with a firm look and he cleared his throat realizing he had overstepped.

“Dean,” Sam started with exasperation. “The right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It's very powerful.”

“And it qualifies as actual remains.” Riley picked up the photo to look at the man closer. “But how is he choosing his victims? It doesn’t make sense.”

Richard leaned onto the table and stared into her eyes. “I'll tell you why. Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.”

“Why are you even helping us, Richard? Why tell us all of this?”

“Because I know exactly where the hand is--the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help.”

“What kind of help?” Sam asked giving Lewis a skeptical look.

Richard said nothing, only to turn to Riley with a smirk.

------

That evening, the house was filled with lit candles as the electricity hadn’t worked for years. 

Dean and Richard waited in the living room with no one else around. Richard was in a tux with Dean was in nice slacks with a white button-up shirt, and a bowtie with a matching vest.

Dean tugged at the tie at his neck. “I don’t get it. Why the fuck do I have to go undercover as a waiter? Why can’t you or Sam do it?”

“Because I need Sam to keep Gertrude busy, I’m on the list with a plus one, and you…” Richard paused and sized him up. “Well, you’ll fit right in with the help.”

Feigning a sarcastic and annoyed laugh, Dean mocked him. “Douchebag…” he muttered under his breath.

Just then, movement on the stairs caught both of their attention. Dean and Richard’s eyes shot up to the staircase to see Riley coming down. She was in a black evening gown that had straps that nearly hung off her shoulders. It had a plunging neckline and a slit up her right leg. Riley’s hair was curled in large, loose rings as it fell over her shoulders. She was even wearing a diamond necklace that Richard had loaned her to play the part.

Dean felt his jaw fall slightly agape as she reached the bottom of the stairs and turned to him. She was stunning. He could have stared at her all night with the candles flickering on her face. Dean had never seen her dressed up like that and nearly went weak in the knees.

 The smile that grew on his face was so genuine, he practically beamed. “Wow…” Dean nearly whispered. “You look…”

Before he could finish, Richard jumped in with a grin. “Incredible. Riley, I’ll be the most envied man in the room tonight.”

It was obvious that Dean was uncomfortable with Lewis being with Riley that night. But, it wasn’t her he didn’t trust, it was him.

Riley half-smiled at him only to walk towards Dean. Her heels clicked on the floor and he gulped hard as she got closer. The hunter was in awe of her and it was obvious. 

“You look so good…” Riley flirted as she fixed his bowtie with a smile.

“You…” Dean stammered. “Sweetheart, there aren’t words.”

A mischievous look grew on her face as she looked up at Dean. “Think you can show me then, later tonight?”

“God, yes…” he nearly growled as his hand went to her waist. Dean kissed her gently as Richard rolled his eyes. When Dean peered up after their kiss, he looked smug and pleased with himself knowing how jealous Richard was. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

------

Outside the museum, the three got out of Richard’s elegant, two-door sports car. He straightened his jacket as he buttoned it up and a parking attendant helped Riley out of the car. 

Dean was in the small backseat and struggled to push one of the chairs forward to get out. He grunted shoving it over it over as the leather squeaked. 

Richard leaned in to push a lever that brought the seat up and smiled trying to hide his humor over the hunter’s embarrassment.

“You know, Dean,” Richard said as he went to Riley’s side. “I believe the staff goes in through the back.”

Riley could see the anger in Dean’s face and she spoke to him telepathically. “It’ll be okay. Remember, he’s not the one I’m going home with.” Her tone was teasing and Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“Shall we?” Lewis asked as he put out his arm for Riley to take it. 

Dean felt himself boil just watching the man he hated touch her as the two walked in the front door. With a groan of frustration, he walked around to the back.

Once inside, Richard gave the doorman their invitation. Everyone was in formal black-tie attire as cultivated music played through the air through the murmurs of conversation.

With Riley’s hand on his arm, Richard placed his on top of hers. She tried to hide her desire to pull away and took a deep breath as they walked inside. Guests had congregated at the bar and throughout the museum as they socialized and admired the displays.

Sam hurried to Richard and Riley from across the room, leaving Gertrude waiting. He looked uncomfortable and jumpy in his black tux. “Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?”

“As long as it takes,” Richard grinned.

Riley could feel how frustrated Sam was and leaned into him. “There’s security everywhere, Sam. Without Gert and Richard’s invitations, this party is un-crashable.”

Holding a silver tray of hors d’oeuvres, Dean reluctantly joined them, his face flat. “This is fucking ridiculous. They got me serving crab cakes.”

Richard reached out to take one. “Don’t mind if I do.” He ate the appetizer and softly moaned. “Delicious. Thank you.” Reaching behind them to the bar, Lewis grabbed two flutes of champagne before handing one to Riley. “Excuse us…” Richard teased as he took Riley’s arm once again and walked them off.

She turned around to mouth, “I’m sorry,” before they disappeared into the crowd.

Dean was practically seething. “I seriously hate that fucking guy.”

“Yeah, join the club.” Sam groaned as Gertrude showed up next to him with their own glasses of champagne. Her eyes sat on Sam with hunger and desire as he took the drink. 

Sam didn’t hesitate before downing the entire glass. He turned to Dean one more time to utter, “let’s get the hand and get the fuck outta here, alright?”

“Pfft. You read my mind.”

With a tight smile, Sam went off with Ms. Case as Dean placed his platter onto the counter. As he went to leave, Dean quickly rushed back to grab three crab cakes from the tray and scurried away while shoving one in his mouth.

------

In a less crowded room, Riley and Richard looked around. There were men in uniforms standing at every door and in front of the staircase. They both spoke in undertones to each other as they tried to blend in.

“Private security?” Richard asked her.

“No...I don’t think so. Check out how they’re standing--definitely professionals. Maybe state troopers on a night job.”

“Posted to every door, too.”

Riley casually glanced around. “Pretty sure they’re not just gonna let us upstairs.”

“Well, I have a thought.”

“I’m all ears.”

“...faint,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Faint.”

The hunter groaned frailly and fell into Richard’s arms toward the floor. Holding her, Richard knelt down next to her. “Darling? Darling, are you alright?” He looked around and called to over to a man that passed them. “Waiter! My wife, she has a terrible peanut allergy. Please tell me you weren’t serving anything with peanuts.”

“No, sir.”

A guard approached as Richard scooped Riley up into his arms. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“My wife, she’s not well. Possibly one too many glasses of champagne. Is there somewhere I can lie her down until she is back on her feet?”

The suited guard looked up the staircase. “Follow me.”

Still holding Riley close to his chest with ease, he thanked the gentleman. “Come on, darling. Let’s get you somewhere quiet.” 

Riley could feel Richard’s hand squeeze at her just a bit and she had to fight not to reach up and smack him across the face. 

He carried her up the stairs as they were led into a private room. Gently, he placed her down on a red leather couch.

“Thank you so much,” he told the guard at the door as he slipped him some money. As Richard shut the door behind him, Riley sat up.

“Getting a little grabby there, Richard.”

He chuckled under his breath. “As I recall, you weren’t opposed to me being ‘grabby’.”

“Yeah,” Riley scoffed as she fixed her hair. “Three years ago. Let it go.”

“As if you’re so easy to forget, Ms. Munroe.” Richard’s eyes locked onto her with desire and she could hear some of his lewd thoughts. She couldn’t let him know she could read his mind and instead just rolled her eyes as she stood. “Room 235. It’s in a locked glass case wired for alarm, I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you.” Lewis pushed the hair away from her face with his hand lingering.

“Cool. Thanks,” she added with a condescending pat to his chest as she turned to leave the room. 

Gently closing the door behind her, Riley began to make her way to the room. She jumped when Dean quickly turned the corner in front of her. “Ugh. You scared me.”

“Yeah, well I’m sure you’re date is a lot scarier.”

Riley giggled to herself before grabbing Dean by the coat he had stolen and kissed him. Breaking away, she kept hold of her grasp and drug him along. 

A playful look grew on Dean’s face, enjoying her show of control.

Down the hall, Riley pointed to the door marked 235. Dean checked the handle to find it unlocked and they crept inside.

In the room were several glass cases with high-tech security on each one. The hand of glory sat to the right in its case and the couple went in its direction. It took several minutes as Dean worked to bypass the security, but when he finally did, the case was easy to remove.

“Very James Bond of you, Dean,” Riley flirted.

Dean stood with a smug look and a hooked eyebrow as he took the hand before tucking it into the jacket pocket. Turning to her he bit his lip as he looked her over. “The name’s Winchester,” he said dramatically as if quoting the famous spy.

She laughed in return and kissed him. “Let’s go.”

The two hurried back to the room they had left Richard in and closed the door behind them. “Ah, Dean. So glad you could join us.” He gave the hunter a judgmental look before asking, “And the hand?” 

Pulling out a shriveled, almost mummified, human hand out of his pocket, Dean showed Richard their prize.  

Lewis approached with his hand open. “May I?”

“Nope,” Dean told him sternly as he pulled it away from him. He pulled a handkerchief from the jacket’s front pocket and wrapped it.

Riley glanced up at Dean. “Wanna put it in my purse? Might be easier to hide.”

He scratched his nose, using their signal for her to read his mind. “And give Dick over here another chance to grope at you so he can get it? I don’t think so.”

She softly shook her head at his ridiculous thought, but dropped the subject.

------

Back downstairs, Gertrude and Sam swayed to a song played by the quartet. She leaned into the Winchester’s chest. Clutching an empty champagne flute, Ms. Case’s other gripped Sam’s tightly. Her eyes were shut as she brushed herself up against the hunter; the liquor that began to hit her only making her bolder.

“Man, this is one long song,” Sam uttered,

Breathing him in deeply, Gertrude cooed, “I hope it never ends.” She paused to gaze up at Sam who looked deeply pained. “How's the investigation going?”

“These things take time.”

“People are talking about the Warren brothers’ deaths. Strange. Do you think it’s connected to Shelia's?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Yeah, we think so.”

“I think they had it coming.” Gertrude went back to her comfortable spot on the hunter’s warm chest. “You know--in a Biblical sort of way.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know about their father?” When Sam shook his head in response, she said, “Come here, I'll whisper it to you.” Taking the sides of his head, Gertrude seductively pulled him close to speak in his ear. Sam tried to contain his groan in discomfort. “People say that the old man didn't die of natural causes.”

Sam grimaced. “Then how?”

Caressing him, she continued to whisper and blow in his ear. “Rumor is the boys did it. Nothing was ever proved, but, uh--people still whisper.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” He winced as he pulled himself away. “Um, uh--so did--did Sheila have any connection to them?”

“Well, none that I know of.”

“Did Sheila have any kind of tragedy in her life?”

Gertrude thought to herself. “Yes. As a matter of fact, there was a...car accident when she was a teenager. Her car flipped over. She was okay but her cousin Brian was killed. Why, is that important?”

“Uh…”

Dean, Richard, and Riley approached and Richard just grinned. “Having a nice time, Gert?” he asked.

“He's delightful!” Gertrude chuckled somewhat drunkenly. She spoke low to Lewis in almost a whisper. “He wants me!”

With a look of surprise, Dean turned to Sam who appeared completely abashed. Riley could feel the embarrassment Sam was drowning in and how badly he wanted to get out of there.

“Gert,” Richard started as he took her hand onto his arm. “I think it’s time we get you home. You might need a cold shower.”

“Great idea,” Sam practically groaned in disgust.

Looking over his shoulder, Richard playfully winked at Riley. “See you at the cemetery.”

After watching the two leave, Dean turned to his brother. “You stink like sex.” 

Riley nearly chortled at the comment and tightened her lips together to avoid bursting into laughter.

------

Once outside the museum, the three walked through the parking lot. Riley, Sam, and Dean got into the Impala as they all sighed with relief that the night was over.

Sam pulled at his bowtie, nearly ripping it off with anxiety in the backseat. “You got it, right? Tell me I didn't get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing.”

“I got it...Mrs. Who?”

“Dean, would it kill you to open a book?” the young Winchester snarked. “Never mind. Just let me see it.” Pulling something out of his pocket, Dean began to unwrap something from a cloth. His face changed with a sense of panic as he unraveled it faster. “What?”

Dean held up a small ship in a bottle that Richard had replaced the hand with as his anger grew. “I'm gonna kill him.”

“I’m down,” Riley shrugged.

------

Back in more comfortable attire, the hunters sat in the candle-lit house once again. Dean examined the ship more closely by the light of a small flickering flame.

“You know what? I'm not gonna kill him. I think slow torture's the way to go.”

“Dean,” Riley said sweetly. “I keep telling you not to let him get under your skin. You gotta relax.”

“Relax! Oh, yeah, yeah, I'll relax. I can't believe the son of a bitch got another one over on us!”

Sam looked up at his brother. “Actually...he got one over on you--not us.”

Pausing with frustration, Dean shouted, “thank you, Sam. Very helpful.”

There was a rapid knock at the door before a deep voice called to them. “Hello? Could you open up?” They all went together to open the door to see Richard looking back at them. “Just let me explain.” 

Sam, Dean, and Riley were pissed...and it showed.

A short while later, Richard was sitting at the table with Dean leaning down to glare at him. Sam sat backward in his chair while Riley leaned against the mantle with her arms crossed.

“I sold it,” Richard admitted. “I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.”

Furious, Dean walked behind him. He made a shooting motion with his fingers, imagining a bullet going into the guy’s head.

“So, the whole reason for us going to the charity ball was...?” Sam asked.

“I needed a cover. You were convenient.”

Riley exhaled in exasperation. “You sold it. Go buy it back.”

“It's halfway across the ocean. I can't get it back in time.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have plans?”

Lewis ran a hand over his face taking a long pause to answer to her snarky question. “I saw the ship.”

“You what?” Dean questioned with a soft and surprised tone as he began to pace. “Wow, you know, I--I knew you were an immoral thieving con artist piece of shit, but just when I thought my opinion of you couldn't get any lower--”

“What are you talking about?”

“We figured out the spirit’s motive,” Sam added as he showed Richard an old photograph. “This is the captain of our ship--the one who hung our ghost boy.”

“So?”

Taking a few steps forward, Riley leaned onto the table. “They were brothers. It was all very Cain and Abel. Now, because of how he died, he’s got a very specific target--people who have killed someone in their own family.” Richard looked stunned as she went on. “Sheila? She killed her cousin in a car accident. The Warren brothers? They murdered their father for his inheritance. And now you apparently.”

“Oh, my God,” he said under his breath.

“So, who was it, Dick? Hmm?” Dean hovered behind Lewis hoping to intimidate him. “Who'd you kill? Was it mommy? Your little sis--?”

Softly, he replied, “it's none of your business.”

“No? Right. Well, have a nice life--you know, whatever’s left of it.” Dean slapped him on the back before grabbing his jacket and going for the door. “Guys, let’s go.”

“You can't just leave me here.”

“Watch us.”

Reluctantly, Richard admitted, “I need your help.”

“Our help?” the older brother scoffed. “You call us serial killers, get handsy with my girlfriend…”

“Okay, that was a bit harsh and rude, I admit it...but it doesn't warrant a death sentence.”

Sam stood with his arms crossed as he told him softly, “that's not why you’re gonna die. What'd you do, Richard?”

“You wouldn't understand. No one did.” Richard cleared his throat and slicked back his hair. “Never mind. I'll just do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself.”

As he turned to leave, Riley spoke out. “You know...you just sold the only thing that could save your life, Richard.”

“I'm aware.”

“Well…” Sam sighed. “Maybe not the only thing.”

------

Richard had gone along with the hunters to a local graveyard. Sam was setting up a ritual circle: five candles, a pentagram, and a bowl into which he poured a jar of red liquid. Another jar was on the opposite side of the circle with what appeared to be herbs in it.

Huddling into his coat from the cold, Richard shuddered slightly. “Do you really think this is going to work?”

Dean was leaning on a tombstone with his shotgun rested on his shoulder. “Almost definitely not.”

Thunder suddenly crashed and the wind whistled before rain began to pour over them. Sam and Dean zipped up their jackets and braced for the storm. Tugging the hood of her sweater out from under her leather jacket, Riley pulled it over her head.

“Well…” she practically shouted over the rain. “Hope those aren’t your good shoes, Richard!” Riley turned to the young Winchester. “Sammy! Time to read, bro!”

“Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam. Ehrley, et balam, ego vos conuro, per deum verum, per deum vivum cuivos,” Sam had to yell over the storm that drenched them. “Cuiaves eos supermontes et per eum, qui adam, et avum formovit. Et per eum...” As he went on, the wind grew fierce and the rain felt as though the skies had completely opened.

“Riley!” Dean called. “Stay close.”

Before she could get to him, Riley could see the phantom approaching Dean. “Behind you!”

Grabbing Dean, the ghost threw him through the air. He hit a headstone with a painful thud before his gun went off. 

Sam looked up and continued to read in Latin as the spirit reached out to Richard and placed a hand on his face. Lewis immediately began to cough up water as the phantom watched him fall to his knees. 

Riley quickly spun to see Dean across the way as he staggered up. Knowing he was okay, she threw herself next to Richard and held him to support him as he continued to heave water.

“Read faster, Sammy!” Dean bellowed as he stumbled over to Riley and Lewis.

Richard continued to cough when the rain suddenly died down. His coughing went on but seemed to have calmed down. 

There was a creaking sound nearby and the ghost turned toward the source of the noise only to see his brother standing before him.

“You...hanged me!”

“I'm sorry,” the spirit pleaded to his brother.

“Your own brother!”

“I'm so sorry!”

The ghost charged with rage into his brother’s spirit. When they collided, the two dissolved into screams and a splash of water that seemed to almost explode.

Richard gasped for air, no longer coughing up water, as Riley and Dean helped him to stand. 

The spirits were both gone with their unfinished business finally at rest.

------

The next day, the family packed, getting ready to leave the home they had been staying in. A sound came from outside before the door opened and Richard walked in, dressed in a dress shirt, tie, slacks, and shining shoes.

“You know, you really should lock your doors. Anyone could just barge in.”

“Anyone just did,” Sam replied as he continued to put his things into their rightful place. “Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?”

“I've come to settle affairs. Giving the spirit what he really wanted, his own brother--very clever, Sam. So here.” Richard pulled out three packets of money and tossed one to each of them. “That’s fifteen thousand--should cover it. I don't like being in anyone’s debt.”

“So, ponying up fifteen grand is easier for you than a simple thank you?” Dean asked. Lewis smiled faintly and the hunter shook his head with a scoff. “You're so fucking damaged.”

Richard’s smile broadened. “Takes one to know one.” His eyes landed on Riley, only a little less suggestive than usual. “I’ll see you around, kid.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” she teased with a playful smile. 

With a slight nod, Lewis turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Sam flipped through his money and then looked back up to his partners. “He’s got style. You gotta give him that.”

With his own cash in hand, Dean dismissed the thought. “Whatever. He’s still a douche.”

“Guys,” Riley started as the three huddled together. “Should we even take this? I mean who the hell knows where this money’s been?”

“No, but I know where it's going…” Dean said with a smile before planting a peck on Riley’s lips and going to get his things. “A-HA HA!”

------

That night, the Impala drove on, still covered in drops of rain. Riley sat in the front seat as she went over a map and Sam leaned forward to look over her shoulder.

“Seriously? Atlantic City?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Hell yeah! Play some roulette--always bet on black.” Dean paused and his tone changed. “Hey listen, I've been doing some thinking. Um...I want you both to know I understand why you did it. I understand why you went after the crossroads demon.” Still unwilling to make eye contact, the others sighed feeling the air of the car change. “You know, situation was reversed, I guess I'd have done the same thing for either of you. I mean I'm not blind, I see what you guys are going through with this whole deal--me going away and all that. But, you're gonna be okay--both of you.”

“You think so…” Sam said tonelessly.

“Yeah, you'll keep hunting, y'know--you live your lives. You’re stronger than me. You both are and you know it. You'll get over it. But, I want you to know I'm sorry--I’m sorry for...putting you through all this, I am.”

Tears ached at Riley’s eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

“We’re just supposed to ‘get over it’-- ‘move on’?” When Dean didn’t respond, Riley went on even though the lump in her throat that was actually causing her pain. “You really expect me to move on? That I can just be without you?”

“Sweetheart, when this is all over...I want you to move on. Build a life with someone if that’s what you want, or hunt with Sam...or both. I just want you to be happy.”

“Happy?!” she almost yelled. “You want me to have a life with someone that isn’t you? How could you even say that?”

“Because you have to, Rye! You gotta let me go.”

Sam couldn’t take it any longer and barked at his brother. “You know what, Dean? Go fuck yourself. We don’t want an apology from you! And by the way, we can take care of ourselves--we’re adults.”

“Oh, well, excuse me.”

The younger brother’s voice continued to rise as Riley rushed to wipe the tears from her face. “You have to give a damn, Dean. You have to fight! I want you to give a shit that you’re dying! Stop trying to plan our futures for us and help us fucking save you!” Dean said nothing in return to Sam, but smirked annoyingly. “So, that's it? Nothing else to say for you?”

Dean stared off down the road, his mind leaving the conversation. He was quiet before changing the subject with a smile. “I think maybe I'll play craps.”

Outraged at his response, Sam leered at his brother. He shook his head and sighed in exasperation. Riley turned to Dean and tears streamed down her face without a sound as Dean’s smile faded. 

As they drove on, Riley reached out telepathically for the man she loved, desperate to get in his head. She couldn’t find a single thought in the older brother and realized he had shut her out. Wondering if she could break the wall, Riley fought with all her might to get through to him.

“Dean...please…” she felt herself practically scream in her own head begging for him to feel her. When there was nothing, Riley sulked into her seat and stared out the window.

Dean wasn’t even gone yet, but Sam and Riley knew, he was already saying his goodbyes.

------

S3 Chapter 6: Fresh Blood

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[pass3rby]

Element of Surprise

#1

Fandom: X-men (movies) Pairing: Allerdrake (Pyro/Iceman) Summary: Everybody has to make decisions. Decisions that might or might not work out. He wasn’t in a habit of looking back either way.

A/N: 

Greatest thanks to my brother from another mother for bestowing an infectious prompt upon me and all the wretched jokes that accompanied his insightful comments. You’ve been a great help and an ass at the same time.  The rest of my gratitude belongs to my dear family who has an immaculate sense of recognizing each highlight and “I saw the light!” moment of my writing, reliably and effectively ruining every single one of them. You’ve been an invaluable teacher of forced multitasking (which I still fail at spectacularly).  Thank you, guys, for harassing me at the most unfortunately-picked times imaginable but standing by me still.  Love you.

St. John Allerdyce was a survivalist. And this might be a very sucky way to begin one's story, but he was nothing but cut-the-crap kind of guy, so go deal.

Where was he again? Ah, yes. Good at the pretend game, he knew how to play tough; easily irked when deprived of a fire source. Bad-tempered, really. All of these stellar qualities went well with him being a realist to the bone. Wrap it up and ship it off.

He wasn't confessing all that out of some twisted delusion of having a chance at redemption, though. Wanting to save his tar-dark soul? No. It was only so that when he says that he's done morally questionable things to pull through, it would be clear that it was no slip up, not a 'few times' kind of deal. He's actually done them more often than not. Not that he counted; just saying. That was what he meant by being a survivalist. That was what this was about.

The main point here? He kept on going. Always found a way. Pushed. Squeezed in. Got his hands dirty. Gritted his teeth. Whatever it took. Morality was overrated where he lived; nobody abided by it anyway, so why should he? He was just a 'misfit' trying to get by, same as the next guy from a broken home.

On the streets and on his own. Making it, no matter the circumstances. That was the source of his pride. He might have turned out brash as a result, distrusting on a good day and suspicious round the clock, but who gave a shit. Certainly not him, not when it kept him alive this whole time.

When the X-men found him, he didn't feel elation; not even relief and he was far from thankful, too. He suspected the worst and he kept on running from them until they corralled him in and got him on their overly flashy and disgustingly impressive jet.

They took him in; full of reassurances that he'll be alright from then on, that he'll be safe now. Who were they to tell him that? Who were they to be so sure about it, to have balls to warrant that? What was the guarantee? Their skin-tight black&yellow spandex? If so, allow him to doubt the empty promise, because those were a sight for sore eyes – literally, just to make them sore.

Everything would work itself out and quite naturally in its usual, wary and solitary way, though (after all, once you lean onto someone, you're only bound to fall sooner or later) – if only they didn't have Bobby Drake on their "team" already.

The guy was way too cheery and overly friendly. Optimistic. An impersonification of a 'Think positive!' attitude, "Not made from concentrate, one hundred percent natural". It was almost like he was shooting for some such ad twenty-four seven. Think about the descriptive adjectives for a straight-laced goody two shoes from suburbs; you name it, he's that.

Everything was perfect.

Everything was dandy.

Bullshit.

He couldn't stand the guy. The poster boy irritated him; got on his nerves like no one else before. John was way too pragmatic to join this sort of let's pretend. But when dear Bobert started cracking, show that not everything was quite so well in his lala land… That's when John took real notice and interest.

You see, he couldn't be arsed to give a flying fuck about some fake looser, but a kid who had his whole life perfectly lined up and sorted only to get "screwed over" by mutation his parents wouldn't take well to? That was John's kind of real that he was willing to interact with.

Sure, Drake was still a sunny boy with majority of views intact and therefore headdesk-ishly naive, but he wasn't all plain "guy next door" (quotation marks because same door actually) anymore. And while John's own personality and stands had been torn down or have crumbled and been rebuilt time and time again, making him into who he was (coincidentally basically the opposite of his roommate), he and the Snowflake there suddenly had a link of communication and it held ever since then. Thus, their companionship begun.

It didn't hurt they both were element-sensitive – that wasn't to say their co-existing was a cakewalk, though. After all, like Ice and Fire, they too were diametrically different. Just a small example to draw a picture here: while Bobby was afraid of his abilities, scared of his element, John felt an undeniable thrill whenever setting free his own; he loved to see fire reign over anything in its way, watch it burn strong.

Ultimately, their mindsets resulted in both of them failing and it was all for the best that they were roommates in the end, because accidents.

Reason number two was that they were a good "confidence boost" and "recklessness dampener" (whatever) respectively for each other, too. That's what their instructors said, but if anybody asked John what it was for him, he just simply enjoyed coaxing Sub-Zero ("Very funny, you pyromaniac." "C'mon, that was weak. You'll have to do better than that, Ice Cube.") out of his shell, letting his fire frolic with its counter element. Negative and positive of the same, if you wanted to get poetic.

Of course, there was also the aspect of them both being young and as such, hormone-driven, too. He was always open to some serious self-exploring opportunity. Safe environment for that wasn't a given, not for him, and even less so in combination with someone begrudgingly-trustworthy (i.e. with no other agenda hidden behind the forementioned romping between the sheets).

It was nothing; just fooling around – one that was kept secret from their teachers and anyone, really, since Bobby-boy was too chickenshit to admit to a healthy dose of experimenting himself. John couldn't care less; he wasn't the guy's keeper after all.

Until he somehow turned out to be. What was worse? Without him even expecting it. You see, the thing was… he kinda screwed himself over. For all his puffed-up chest and big shoulders about how he was prudent and cautious, he landed himself in a swamp (or moving sand if he'd so chose to rather stay dry; same difference, though) right there. Knee deep and it was only a matter of time until it swallowed him up whole.

It was all the Ice-berk's ("I'm not stupid, John!" "Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.") fault. If he wasn't so pure and open and easy to approach – hell, he, approaching him all of his own! – in the first place, John wouldn't have fallen into this trap.

Who was he kidding. He blew it. Big time.

But it was still all good, right? What he meant was, there was no rush or anything. They could simply keep at it the way they had up til now with Ice Ice Bobby none the wiser and everyone chilling, pun intended.

He should have known that he was never meant to have a happy end. Not ever (as if life hadn't showed him enough indications to that already) and definitely not with Snow White on top of that. When had he sunken so low as to think he even could?

Shame. Shame on you, St. John Allerdyce.

As he was forced to witness and live the changes that wafted in after Rogue's appearance and continued presence, years of evolved camaraderie and any ease connected to it began to shrivel.

He had suddenly more free time on his hands than what he knew what to do with, his subconsciousness developed an almost uncontrollable need for a facepalm at least once per every 24 hour mark, his teeth were bound to rot any day now with the diabetes-inducing teenage romance developing before his eyes and he better man-the-fuck-up right now, because he did not make it this far only to become a sob story.

So, he watched with skeptical interest as Bobby, encouraged by Rogue's supporting words, froze his mother's disgustingly milk-ruined coffee instead. John knew long before they had even opened their mouths, what side Bobby's parents would pick, what their reaction would be. He could not keep his sarcastic thoughts pointed at his roommate from emerging then.

Why did you think, all of a sudden, they won't mind? We talked about your bigoted parents so many times… You think that you having a girlfriend like a good, normal teenage boy somehow neutralizes your negative mutant points?

If not knowing better, John would say Bobby did it on purpose just to fuck with him. Nobody could be that sickeningly foolish after all. And the Drakes? He silently dared them to surprise him; to call their "Art teacher" out on his blatant lie even. To prove him wrong.

Which would be when Wolverine got shot in the head right infront of them. That did surprise him, John will give them that.

An unexpected rush of everything followed right after and with startling clarity.

One too many black eyes.

Sleeping in a cardboard box, freezing (nobody cared).

Broken jaw.

Stealing a pack of matches the first time around – to get to feel at least a bit safe (they were too tricky to operate, to strike with shaking hands, wrong move there wrong wrong wrong).

Hungry, impotent anger.

Running away.

The breath; foul and heavy with booze.

First fire (pure accident please!).

His mother on the floor, bleeding (never fighting back; just taking it run!).

Heavy hands.

Cops chasing him back into slums (you'd have to know it here better to catch me, assholes).

Bloodshot bottomless eyes. A vortex about to swallow him up, too.

Events flashing before his mind's eye at random and in no chronological order.

His heart not having a foggiest how to deal with the overabundance of adrenaline that jumped up out of nowhere.

"And the rest of you, on the ground. Now."

He could almost physically feel Wolverine, right before his feet, lifeless.

See Bobby, lying down, obedient.

"Look, kid. I said, on the ground."

Rogue, too; docile.

They can't be serious. Why were they kidding themselves? They were gonna die here.

"We don't want to hurt you, kid."

Really. The fucking cop just shot Wolverine. If they won't protect themselves… They're dead. If he's not gonna do anything now…

He gulped. Palmed his zippo; the warmed-up steel that bit slicker with sweat. Or sick memory?

C'mon, Pyro, show up. Fight.

In the pit of his stomach, hot magma twisted and curled, warming him up until he could almost sense the licks of unborn fire on his fingertips.

There.

He won't lie down. Not until he's six feet under.

A/N: So I’ve found something of a themesong for EoS I think. If you’re wondering, you can check it here.

A bit of explanation on a side:

My idea is that St. John Allerdyce still has Australian background, he just moved to US with his family when he was a small kid or something. So... just bear with the little mess, please. I love him being "St. John" way too much as to delete half of it from my story.

Also, I’ll deviate a bit from the movies timeline (which is a tangle anyway) in this version (I got two total, don’t panic), which you’ll notice on the transition from X-2 movie to X-3.

#marvel #x-men #allerdrake #pyro/iceman #eos

[ellanainthetardis]

I saw this first meeting au: “My cat steals underwear and I come home to find you chasing my cat to get your underwear back” on a list and I just… couldn’t resist XD So you get a modern Au that’s half crack and half steam with a small amount of feelings on top. I don’t really know what this is but hopefully, some of you might like it!

[FF] or [ao3]

Buttercup, The Cat Burglar

Haymitch tossed his coat on the closest armchair, grumbling under his breath about how cold it was, both outside and in the house. The first thing he did was add a few logs in the dying fire and stroke it until it was a decent size again. Then, he turned around with the firm intention of pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

He hated market day.

He hated it with a passion.

He wasn’t sure if raising geese he had no desire to eat or sell so they could become food would be considered a lucrative business. As it was, he sell the eggs twice a week and the feathers he collected every couple of months, it didn’t make a fortune but added to the money he still had from his time in the military – because doing special secret operations for the government paid better than his birds – he got by easily. He wasn’t a great spender anyway now that the girls were both gone. A bottle of whiskey now and then – not enough to get irremediably addicted as promised to his surrogate kids – some books, and he was good.

He didn’t startle when he turned round to find the ugly ginger cat comfortably lying right where he hadn’t been a second ago. One would think he would have gotten used to the presence in his house but one would be very, very wrong. It was hard to get used to the muddy yellow tomcat, with its missing ear and mashed-in nose, jumping from every shadow to either hiss at you or rub against your legs lovingly, depending if he was in the mood for mayhem or food.

“What did you do now?” Haymitch asked with a resigned weariness. “Please, tell me it ain’t Greasy Sae’s stocking again…”

Ever since Prim had left for college, the cat had more or less moved from the Everdeens’ house to his. He figured that it was because Katniss had moved in with Peeta and Aster was still fragile and could barely take care of herself. He had never extended an invitation to the stupid cat but Buttercup seemed to have decided that with his owner gone for an extensive amount of time and his owner’s sister – who he hated – at the other side of town, Haymitch’s couch was the next best place to wait until Prim came back for the holidays.

So the fact that the cat seemed to have become kleptomaniac since Prim left seemed to fall on him – at least, according to the neighbors.

It had started with socks. Various sizes and colors, although almost always from Beetee Latier’s house – he knew, because after placing traps and catching the cat in a box, Beetee had knocked on his door with the culprit effectively jailed. Socks were handed back against the cat, promises were made that it would never happen again.

Of course, it had happened again.

Except not just with Beetee.

Lately, Buttercup seemed to have developed a liking for old Sae’s support stockings. The number of times he had strode back into the house with one of those dangling from his mouth…

Greasy Sae wasn’t someone who liked to joke around and he didn’t enjoy when she came around to lecture him on how to raise cats. She wasn’t moved when he pointed out Prim had done the raising. He was just… cat-sitting.

Whatever Buttercup had stolen now, it didn’t really look like a sock and Haymitch took a step closer, not frightened by the low grumbling of the clawed monster. They had an understanding the two of them. If the cat attacked him, the cat would go back to his own house and try his chance with Aster for a few days. A week of irregular meals that were never his favorite treats usually brought him back much easier to deal with.

At first, he almost concluded it was another of Sae’s stockings because of the fabric. It looked a little like nylon. Except it was an undefined color between green and blue. A pretty color, truth be told, that didn’t really fit Sae. Then, he realized it wasn’t nylon at all but lace and that the cat had already destroyed a good portion of it.

With the dexterity brought by experience, he snatched it away, tugging when Buttercup’s quick paw made a good job at trying to reclaim it by stabbing the delicate fabric with its claws.

Eventually, he managed to free it and let out a low impressed whistle once he figured out what he was holding. Lacy see through blue-green panties with a cheeky little golden bow on the back.

“Hope you didn’t get that from Sae.” he snorted, glancing at the cat. “You’re gonna get me in trouble again.”

Buttercup kneaded the couch with his claws in answer, a glint of murder in his black eyes. He was still staring at the ruined panties and Haymitch shook his head before going to the kitchen to throw them away, wondering if living with him had turned that cat into a psycho or if he had already been one before and just behaving for Prim’s sake.

Sae never came raging about an alleged panties theft so Haymitch forgot all about the matter.

At least until three days later when he found Buttercup very busy nuzzling what looked like a frilly pink thong on their kitchen’s table.

“You dirty, dirty old boy.” he accused, snatching the piece of clothing away. This one hadn’t suffered like the last one, which meant the cat hadn’t gotten around to playing with it yet or that he hadn’t been hungry enough to try and eat it. Or that he was more into nuzzling it but, really, that was pushing boundaries he didn’t feel comfortable exploring.

He studied the soft piece of fabric, unable to stop himself. It was delicate and just as see-through as the blue-green one had been, except for two thicker lines of lace at the seams that wouldn’t hide anything from view. Pretty.

“Wonder where you find this stuff.” he mumbled, his mouth suddenly a bit parched.

It had been quite a while since the last time he had let Chaff convince him to go into a bar to pick up someone and… He cleared his throat and put the thong in the box full of stolen items he kept on top of a cupboard, telling himself he would go out and find someone soon. Clearly, if he was turned on by the pink thong of a random stranger who could be absolutely ugly for all he knew, he needed to get laid very badly.

The next theft happened two days after that.

This time it was a burgundy thing in between a thong and panties, still see-through, with a triangle hole on the bottom. He figured the hole would fit right on the small of the woman’s back and…

“You started stealing in town, yeah?” he asked, his voice tight.

He didn’t know a single woman in their immediate neighborhood that would wear this sort of things. They were all either very old women or frantic mothers who were always late for something. He couldn’t imagine any in that sort of expensive kinky lingerie. Not one.

Buttercup was very irritated when he confiscated his new toy and tried to scratch him. After a couple of hours though, Haymitch was apparently forgiven on account of the cat’s empty stomach. It was almost funny to watch the animal roll on his lap and purr like a turbine, trying to get back into his good grace.

“Stupid cat.” Haymitch mumbled. “Stop stealing this stuff. I’ve got enough ‘you need a girlfriend’  bullshit from Finnick, I don’t need you jumping on that wagon. I sure don’t need a woman anyway. Though, can’t say I’d say no to a good fuck.”

He hadn’t called Chaff yet. Because Chaff, like Finnick and the rest of their friends including Prim and Katniss, were of the opinion that since he was done playing full time mentor-slash-unofficial-guardian to his neighbor’s daughters, he needed to find something else to do on the side. And by something else to do, what they really meant was someone else. Peeta had even tried to create him an account on a dating website, he had lost count of the number of blind dates he had narrowly escaped in the last couple of months… No, it was much safer to stay home, filter his calls and avoid his friends as much as possible.

He could go to the bar by himself and find a willing woman but with no one there to keep him from the edge, it would most likely end up with him getting wasted than with a one-night-stand. And if he called Finnick or Chaff…  He needed to get laid, true, but he didn’t need – nor wanted – a girlfriend. No matter what his friends thought.

His last serious relationship had ended up with the girl dead along with the rest of his family while he was on the other end of the planet for a stupid mission – the one that had cost him half his team and during which he had been forced to witness forty-eight kids dying when a school was accidentally bombed. A success all around.

He would probably have ended up a waste of space, a cliché drunkard vet who could barely function, if he hadn’t met Katniss a few years after he had come back. Eleven and an orphan with a defiant attitude, a stubborn streak that was far too endearing, an adorable little sister and a depressed mother – and so very much in need of help, he had been invested before he had even realized it. Prim often said he had saved them but, really, it was the other way around.

And now they were both gone because that was how those things go. Children left the nest. And he was lonely and bored and, sure, Katniss checked in every two days and he liked her boyfriend a lot because Peeta was a sweet boy who always made sure he had fresh bread and didn’t forget to eat but… It wasn’t the same.  

He didn’t need a girlfriend though.

That was just his stupid friends projecting their own life goals on him.

He jumped with a curse when Buttercup bit his hand and he glared at the tomcat on his lap.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s get you fed, you monster.” he spat, chasing him from his knees.

Routine, he told himself, routine was good. Feed the cat, grab a book… Maybe a good jerk off before bed…

Routine.

A routine that was disturbed the next morning, while he was checking on the geese, by Buttercup dashing down the street and straight through the open kitchen door as if the devil himself was hot on his heels, something red dangling between his teeth. Haymitch followed after him because the red thing looked much bigger than panties or socks.

The cat was out of breath, huddling in the corner of the kitchen, and it took Haymitch almost a whole minute to snatch the piece of fabric Buttercup had stolen this time. Lace again but not panties… He turned it around a couple of times, trying to make sense of it. Was it a bra or a top? It looked far too… slutty for a top so it must have been lingerie, a bra, yeah… Two triangle of lace that tied around the neck and the back, with a very big diamond-shaped hole in the middle that couldn’t hide much at all.

The bra’s cups didn’t look big… He was about to guess at the size by trying to fit his fist there – scientific curiosity and nothing else – when the doorbell rang. Three times in a row.

Haymitch glared at Buttercup because he had a good idea what it was about and tossed the bra on the kitchen’s table before making his way to the front door. By that time, whoever it was had rung it two more times and he hated that sound. Most people knocked around there. It wasn’t that big a town, after all.

He brutally opened the door, a scowl on his face.

The woman was… Gorgeous, was a good word for it. Posh, was another one. He didn’t think he had ever seen someone so posh in their little corner of the world before. She was wearing a soft grey high-waist pencil skirt, impossibly tall heels and a blue blouse that made her eyes look even bluer than they already were. The legs were endless and the eyes were very blue, her blond hair was pinned high in a severe bun that reminded him of Tinkerbell – because Prim had had a phase around ten when she wanted her hair just like that all the time – and didn’t suit her at all.

She looked uptight – which he hated.

Except he had a good idea of what kind of stuff she was wearing under those strict clothes and that wasn’t uptight at all – which was interesting.

“Yeah?” he said, not bothering to hide his annoyance at being disturbed.

She pursed her lips but forced a pleasant polite smile when she outstretched her hand. “Mr Abernathy, I suppose? Effie Trinket. I recently moved in a little further down the street.”

Damn but her voice was high-pitched.

And her accent… Clipped vowels and an affected tone…

The airs she was giving herself.

He folded his arms in front of his chest and ignored the hand, a little disappointed. Not that he had been fantasizing about the kinky panties’ owner but… Well, he had been a little. Maybe he had let himself picture a nice woman with a generous laugh, glossy dark hair and easy to get along who would have joked the whole criminal cat off.

And instead what he got was…

What even was she to dress like that? An accountant? A lawyer? A secretary?

“And?” he prompted when she simply stood there, waiting for him to acknowledge her words or welcome her in the neighborhood or whatever people did those days.

She pursed her lips even further and narrowed her eyes, letting her hand drop back to her side. He had to give her that, when she spoke, her voice was perfectly controlled, not a hint of irritation came through. “Do you, by any chance, own a cat, Mr Abernathy?”

“Nope.” he shrugged.

Her jaw clenched, her blue eyes glared daggers and he found himself shifting because…

She was very, very hot.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about the red bra on his kitchen table and how he had been right, there wasn’t much up there but enough that it would fit perfectly in his hands and…

Her next words jerked him off from the fantasy he was quickly falling into.

“How peculiar.” she hissed. “You see, I asked around and the consensus seems to be that you own a particular ginger cat with a missing ear.”

“That’s Primrose Everdeen’s cat, you’re looking for.” he told her, glancing around behind her.

The street was calm and deserted but he knew there would be at least one or two old women behind their curtains, spying on them. After all, Sae’s stockings weren’t the only ones that had been stolen and that Effie Trinket looked like the kind of person who give him a good run for his money. He supposed old ladies had to find their revenge where they could. Unless it was Beetee who still hadn’t forgiven him for his favorite socks getting ruined who had directed her to him.  

“Primrose Everdeen.” she repeated, clearly not convinced.

He helpfully pointed at the right house, thinking it was only right Aster had to deal with this. It was her cat too after all. “Next door.”

He didn’t feel very guilty about it. Aster would probably not even answer the doorbell. She never did.

Effie Trinket – and what kind of name was that ? – didn’t even glance in the direction he indicated. She placed her hands on her hips and studied him.

She was aggravated, that was plain to see. She was also very much checking him out if he wasn’t mistaken.

He lifted his eyebrows, his lips stretching into a smirk.

She ignored it.

“Everyone seemed to agree the cat was yours.” she remarked.

“Everyone’s wrong.” he shrugged.

“Then, why did I see him dash into your backyard just a few minutes ago?” she retorted with a sweet, sweet smile that promised a thousand torture wrapped in a nice little bow.

“Didn’t say I wasn’t feeding him.” He smirked harder.

She blinked twice but he couldn’t really guess at what was happening in her head. She had a very good poker face.

“Do you train your cat to commit burglaries, Mr Abernathy?” she asked.

How she could word that question with a straight face, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help a chuckle. “Ain’t my cat, sweetheart. I’m just making sure he doesn’t starve.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it only to open it again, her tone suddenly more chilly. “My name is Effie Trinket. You may address me as Effie or Miss Trinket but you certainly cannot call me sweetheart.”

“Sure.” he agreed easily. “Sorry. Princess.”

If looks could kill, he would have dropped dead.

It really shouldn’t have been that attractive.

But maybe if she would stop sneaking glances at his mouth…

“Your cat repeatedly broke into my house.” she accused.

He rolled his eyes. “Ain’t my cat and it ain’t my fault he likes socks. Take it up with Prim when she comes back from college.”

“Oh, I think we are both aware he did not steal socks.” she snapped. “Now. Do you have my belongings or should I simply go to the police station and report you for…”

“For what?” he challenged, amused.

“Feline mugging!” she exclaimed, poking his chest with an accusative finger. “You trained that beast to sneak into innocent women’s home and steal their underwear! Probably for your twisted enjoyment!”

He snorted at that. “You know, I’m half tempted to go with you just to see Cray’s face if you try to report that.” He shook his head, eyes twinkling in amusement. It had been a while since someone had bothered to keep up with him in that kind of banter. And he wasn’t the only one that the conversation had amused. He could see it under her irritation. She was enjoying this too. Maybe a little too much. Her finger was still poking at his chest, less too accuse and more to… check firmness. He batted it away. “Come in. Your stuff’s in the kitchen.”

He stepped back but she didn’t move.

She lifted perfectly shaped eyebrows. “You expect me to walk into the home of a possible pervert?”

“My cat’s the pervert.” he mocked, heading to the kitchen, leaving her to follow or stay there.

“I thought it wasn’t your cat?” she retorted.

Still, after a few seconds, he heard the front door closing and the echoing sound of her heels on floorboards. He tossed her a glance over his shoulder, not quite surprised to see her less than impressed with his house. It was a mess and not as clean as it should be. Hazelle did her best but even the most awesome housekeeper couldn’t match his natural tendency for chaos.

“Holding your nose?” he taunted. “Smell that bad?”

She looked horrified at having been found out.

“I would never!” she protested with a huff. “How rude do you suppose me to be?” She pursed her lips, looked around again and then… “I do not mean to offend you in any way but why does it smell so much like poultry?”

“’Cause some of the geese wandered in this morning.” he shrugged. He tended to leave the backdoor open and that sort of things happened more than he wanted to linger on. Hazelle always complained about having to clean geese poop from his floors.

“Geese.” she repeated slowly, understanding quickly dawning on her face. The honking had probably puzzled her. “Do you own any normal pet?”

“Normal’s overrated, sweetheart.” he dismissed.

Her face hardened again. She really wasn’t keen on pet names.

Which only made him all the more determined to use them.

Riling her up was fun.

“There you are.” she scowled once she stepped in the kitchen and found Buttercup sitting in the middle of the table, relaxed as you pleased, his butt on the red lace Haymitch had tossed there earlier. “You are a very naughty cat, mister.”

Buttercup flicked his brushy tail one way and then the other, eyeing her with obvious disdain.

Haymitch privately thought he looked less proud of himself earlier when he had been running like hell from her fury.

He grabbed the plastic box from the top of the cupboard and handed it to her. “Take whatever’s yours.”

She looked stunned at the number of pieces of clothing in the box. Socks mainly, a couple of stockings, a few half-eaten tights and, of course, her underwear.

He kept his eyes averted because now that she was standing right there in his kicthen, he felt bad.

It wasn’t that she was embarrassed exactly but she did blush a little when she quickly snatched her thongs. Her previous indignation wasn’t so funny anymore. After all, she didn’t know him and he had seen something private he hadn’t been meant to. She had every right to be furious. After the cat and after him for not controlling the furry pest better.

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I tossed the first one in the trash. He had eaten it.”

“I see.” she said flatly before clearing her throat. “My bra, if you will? I dare not approach this cat, he almost clawed my arm off earlier.”

The blouse’s sleeves covered any possible injury from view but Haymitch winced, knowing just how vicious Buttercup could be. He didn’t escape unscathed when he rescued the bra but he didn’t think it warranted her shocked gasp. The scratches on his forearm were bleeding but it wasn’t that bad. He opened the cold tap and let water stream on it, watching her ball her underwear, probably hoping it would make it less obvious what she was carrying.

“There are trash bags in that cupboard.” he offered, pointing to a low cupboard.

“Thank you.” Her smile was relieved and grateful and, for the first time since she had rung that doorbell, genuine. It was also breathtaking. Not that Haymitch would have had admitted that. She quickly hid everything from view in the trash bag and then approached him to peer at the wound on his arm. “Do you have a first aid kit? I think you need a bandage at the very least.”

He was half tempted to let her play nurse.

“Ain’t that bad.” he denied, turning the water off and flicking his hand a few times before wiping it with a dishcloth that had been abandoned on the counter. “Look… I’m sorry, alright? For real.” He wasn’t really good at apologies and he felt awkward now. “I know I should probably have tried to find you to give it back but… He’s only stolen socks and stuff like that before, never…”

“Well… He has good lingerie taste.” she joked. “There is always that.”

Her eyes were riveted on the floor and there was a soft blush on her cheeks. It was obvious she was uncomfortable and that made him feel even worse because… He didn’t want her to feel that way. It wasn’t right.

“I didn’t look.” he lied.

She shot him an incredulous look and he winced.

“Not much.” he amended.

Her lips twitched and while the awkwardness didn’t completely disappear, she looked more amused than ill-at-ease. Confident again. He liked that, he realized, the charisma she had.

“Can’t promise it won’t happen again.” he warned. “He’s been acting out since my kid left for school.”

She frowned, curiosity written all over her face. “I thought you said it was the neighbor’s cat?”

“It is.” he confirmed and then rolled his eyes because he was so used to everyone knowing the story that it was odd to have to explain it. “The girls next door are kind of my kids. Raised them. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“I see.” she said. She studied him for a second and then flashed him a polite smile. “Well. It was nice to meet you, Mr Abernathy, but I am afraid I must dash. I simply must get to work.”

“Okay.” he shrugged, walking her back to the front door. He watched her strut down his lane and then called out, just as she was opening the gate. “Name’s Haymitch, by the way.”

She paused, looked back with another of those blinding smiles, and then continued on her way down the street.

He found Buttercup sulking on the couch.

“Fine.” he snorted. “You’ve got taste.”

The cat growled in answer but Haymitch dropped next to him anyway, ignoring his bad mood. Buttercup was always in a bad mood.

He spent the whole day in a weird frame of mind, unable to shake off the memory of Effie Trinket staring him down. Fuck, but he had forgotten how hot a fiery woman could be.

It was all it was, of course, and he told himself that firmly.

She was witty and beautiful and clearly had no trouble flirting with strangers who owned a pervert cat…  

And he had a bad case of blue balls.

When he kicked his sweatpants off that night and wrapped his hand around himself, it was just to relieve some of that tension. So, sure, he first started thinking about glaring women and, sure, those women soon turned into one gorgeous blue-eyed blonde. It wasn’t right to jerk off to the thought of the new neighbor he had only met because his cat had stolen her – kinky – panties but he was too far off to care at that point…

He couldn’t stop imagining her, what she would look like… How it would feel to rip that skirt and blouse off her, too easy to picture the red bra or the pink thong on her… None of that tight bun on her head either… Her blond hair sprawled on the pillow under her head… His fingers tangling in the strands…  

His hand was rough and almost brutal as he stroke himself to relief.

Would she be rough or sweet? Soft or violent? Shy or passionate?

The possibilities were endless and by the time he made a mess of his sheets, he was out of breath, delirious with lust and half-hoping Buttercup would steal from her again just so he could have an excuse to approach her.

Not that he would ask her out…

He didn’t ask women out.

He didn’t date.

He didn’t…

But maybe they could…

Yeah, a sarcastic voice at the back of his mind mocked, a woman like her, she’s clearly into one night stands. Sure. Tell yourself that.

“Shit.” he muttered.

He hated to think the voice was right but he wasn’t very talented at hoping or lying to himself. He flopped on his stomach, firmly told himself to stop being an idiot and forced himself to  go to sleep.

He went out into town the next day.

Because he was low on groceries, not because he was hoping to bump into her.

If he had hoped to bump into her, he would have been disappointed anyway because she was nowhere to be found.

He stopped at the bakery last, happy to find Katniss there so he could lecture her again about what an inconvenience her stupid cat was.

“It’s Prim’s cat, not mine.” was the only answer he got out of the girl.

Two more days passed without any burglary – although he did have a moment of hope when he found Buttercup munching on a black fabric but it turned to be one of his socks – and Haymitch pretended very hard he wasn’t disappointed with that. He wondered if she had found a system to keep her underwear a little more secure than previously or if she had just gotten better at making sure the cat couldn’t get in at all.

He wondered a lot about her.

It was ridiculous, of course. He had seen her once. Utterly ridiculous. And he was done with this weird obsession. Completely done. He was over it. Absolutely over it.

From Hazelle – who he subtly interrogated while she was doing the cleaning and complaining about how he couldn’t keep his house spotless for three bloody days straight – he got that she had moved in a little over two weeks earlier from a big city. From Sae, he figured out she wasn’t much of a cook because either she came to the restaurant – and mostly ate alone – or she ordered take out. From Peeta, he learned that she had bought the empty building at the corner of the street from the bakery and was planning to open a lingerie shop – which explained a lot if not everything. From Katniss, all he found out was that the woman was odd – which probably meant too eccentric and posh for her tastes.

After a week of heavy denial and quite a few evenings spent pretending he wasn’t jerking off to fantasies of her touching him, he finally admitted she had caught his eye and that he should do something about it.

A resolution that was quickly forgotten when he realized he hadn’t seen Buttercup in a while. He hadn’t been immediately worried because the cat came and went as he pleased and it wasn’t unheard of for him to go back to the Everdeens’ house for a night or two or even to Katniss and Peeta’s but it was odd for him not to come back and ask for food three days in a row.

He refused to admit being worried because it wasn’t like he cared about the cat – it was well known Haymitch Abernathy didn’t care for anything or anyone after all, or at least that was what he liked to pretend – but it was Prim’s cat and Prim would be devastated if anything happened to him. He looked everywhere for the stupid animal. At Aster’s, at the bakery, in the meadow, in every street and dark alley…

So, in the end, it was a bit anticlimactic when the doorbell rang, just as he was about to call Katniss and beg her to help him hunt Buttercup down, to find Effie Trinket standing on his doorstep with a slightly displeased expression on her face.

He had been imagining that very scene for a while now – and in every version of it, he was quite the charmer and it ended always ended with a kiss – but now he had more pressing concerns.

“Buttercup didn’t steal anything.” he snapped defensively before she could open her mouth. “He’s gone. I can’t find him.”

“Oh, I know.” she breathed out with obvious irritation. “He is in my bed.”

He had to do a double take at that. “What?” He frowned, taking in the short tight red dress she was wearing. It was the complete opposite style of the skirt and blouse she had been wearing the other day and he wondered if that was her being relaxed or if… “Is that a come-on?”

Because he was tempted.

But the missing cat…

She lifted her eyebrows, an amused smile floating on her lips. “Not quite. Your cat is literally in my bed and I cannot shoo him away without him hissing at me. I thought about just… bundling him in the sheets but I do not want to hurt him, no matter how rude he acts. Could you…”

“Yeah.” he said at once, puzzled by what had gotten into that tomcat now. He had never done that before. Sneak into a neighbor’s house, yes. Steal stuff, yes. But just settle there?

He followed her down the street, trying not to be too obvious when he stared at her ass. It was impossible not to stare. It was right there and that dress clung to it like a second skin and she kept swinging her hips that bit too much…

“If you are quite done ogling me…” she grinned and he realized he had been so lost in his silent contemplation he had missed them reaching her house and her unlocking the door. She was waiting for him to come in, eyebrows raised.

“Wasn’t ogling you.” he muttered.

“You are not a great liar.” she snorted.

“Arrogant much?” he scoffed, annoyed at being found out so easily.

She thought she was in control here and that, that he didn’t like at all. He liked calling the shots. He liked being in charge. He liked…

“Perhaps.” she challenged. “However that does not mean I’m wrong.”

He ignored her smug face and stepped inside.

Challenging.

That was a good word for her. She was challenging. And fuck if he had ever been able to stop himself from raising to one.

Her house couldn’t have been more different to his. It was… colorful. Bright artworks on the walls, furniture made of dark cherry wood, colors everywhere else… Curtains, rugs… He glimpsed a red fridge and matching appliances on their way past the kitchen…

The layout of the house was similar to his though, so he wasn’t surprised when she led him up the stairs and to the left. The master bedroom was all in pink and cream tones. It was ridiculous but not without its charm, he figured.

Given that everything seemed to have its proper place in the house and that everything was meticulously clean, he very much doubted she had left the bed unmade that morning so he deduced that Buttercup had been the one making a mess of it. He had made himself a nice little nest with the bedspread and the sheets.

“He has been coming and going for the last couple of days.” she explained. “I think he spent the night downstairs once or twice. We had an agreement that as long as he did not steal my underwear again he was welcome.” She pursed her lips at the cat. “But this is taking it a bit far.”

“You could have said.” he spat. “I’ve been looking for him.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “What do I know of your cat’s habits? Trust me, I did not ask him to stay.”

He studied her with some mistrust. He wasn’t going to explain to Prim that a stranger had stolen her cat.

“Get your own pet.” he warned.

“Gladly.” she huffed. “Perhaps I will get a dog. It should keep your cat from breaking and entering.”

He looked her up and down and then smirked. “You ain’t a dog person. You’re high maintenance. Like a cat.”

“Oh, you think you have me all figured out, haven’t you?” she hissed.

“Not yet.” he shrugged. “But that’s the fun part.”

He half-expected her to blush or stutter but she stared straight back at him instead, her chin jutted high, a hint of defiance in her blue eyes… At least until her gaze darted to his mouth and she licked her own lips.  

His smirked widened.

Had she been thinking about him too?

All the flirting didn’t mean she wanted more but…

“Get that cat off my bed.” she ordered.

“Bossy.” he commented.

“In everything.” she remarked in a casual way that was not casual at all. Her voice was just that little bit lower and…

“What do I get out of it?” he asked, folding his arms in front of his chest.

Buttercup was eying both of them in turn with very obvious annoyance.

“Your cat back.” she deadpanned.

“Maybe I don’t want him back.” he challenged.

“You wanted him back two seconds ago.” she remarked.

“Maybe I’m fickle.” he shrugged.

Her grin was slow and almost predatory, her eyes were twinkling with amusement. “I sincerely hope not. Fickle men are not worth my time.”

Suddenly the pink and cream tones of the room didn’t look so ridiculous. They look intimate. He wanted to step closer to her, maybe to kiss her just to erase that taunting grin from her lips…

He didn’t move.

If he moved first, he lost.

And he was very much enjoying the game.

“Maybe I want something more than just the cat.” he stated and he barely recognized his own voice. It was rough and just as predatory as her grin.

Another woman might have been intimidated or scared by a virtual stranger making that sort of heavy flirting in their bedroom, she barely blinked. She simply tilted her head to the side. “Name your price.”

“Maybe I want to see what you’ve got under your dress.” He waited a second, just to make sure he wasn’t pushing it too far but when she just stood there and stared back with the very same glint of lust in her eyes, he licked his lips. “Maybe I want to see how this frilly stuff Buttercup stole looks on you.”

“That is assuming I have any underwear on.” she hummed.

A sound escaped his throat, halfway between a groan and a whine.

He wasn’t sure who moved first.

All he knew was that one second they were standing a respectable distance apart, the next her mouth was crushed against his, hot and demanding, and her hands were ripping buttons off his shirt. The kiss was almost brutal, dirty in all the right ways, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulled… He fumbled with the zipper of her dress, he tried to shove it down but it got stuck around her hips and she stopped him to slip it over her head instead…

She had a black lacy bra on underneath and the matching panties to go with.

And she was even more gorgeous than he had thought she would be.

He wasn’t sure how they ended up against the wall or where she had been hiding the condom she rolled on him.

They were kissing again, then she was tugging him and then he was pining her against the hard surface…

It was rough and frantic and he briefly wondered if she had been having a dry spell too because she looked as desperate and eager as he was…

The noises she was making though…

Fuck, but he could get addicted to those.

Moans and sighs and whimpers and whines…

It was over far too fast. Her strangled cry of pleasure brought him over the edge and he lost his footing frantically thrusting his release into her. They collapsed on the floor, half on the bedside rug, out of breath and a little sweaty.

It took him a good minute to get rid of the condom, knot it and carefully place it aside, too dizzy from his climax to properly compute. He didn’t even try to stand up. He was pretty sure his legs would have protested.

It could have turned awkward really fast – because what the hell had even just happened? – if she hadn’t started laughing.

“See… When a woman laughs right after I’m done with her, it doesn’t do wonders for my ego…” he joked.

She rolled on her side and hooked a leg over his hip, propping her head on her hand and patting his chest with her other one. “I have a feeling your ego doesn’t need any stroking.”

“I’ve got something else I’d prefer you to stroke anyway.” he smirked.

She glanced down and bit down on her bottom lip in a thoughtful way. He was almost scared by what her brain was imagining now. Almost. He was also excited to find out.

“Perhaps later.” she hummed. “Once you have chased the cat from my bed.”

It was a dangerous assumption. Later. He didn’t usually stick around long enough with a woman for there to be a later.

But she was gorgeous, feisty, very naked, very willing and still something of a riddle. He had never been able to resist a good riddle. Or a challenge. And she was both. She was both in a very appealing package.

“You’re a weird woman.” he told her.

She was so different from any he had met before… He wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing yet.

“Says the very puzzling neighbor.” she chuckled instead of taking offense. “Do you know nobody I asked could give me the same explanation about you? According to some, you are a recluse, to others you are a secret millionaire or a generous sweet man with a boorish exterior I should definitely consider going out with…”

“Let me guess…” he snorted. “That was Sae.”

“Peeta actually.” she corrected. “Sae’s suggestions were more… akin to what we just did.”

He lifted his eyebrows, not sure if he should be surprised or disgusted by the idea of the old woman making that sort of implications. He chose to ignore it altogether and focus on the main thing. “So. You asked about me.” He probably sounded far too smug about that and maybe the taunting was a little too much but he couldn’t help it. “Liked what you saw the other day, sweetheart? Couldn’t stay away?”

“Well, you were conducting your very own investigation.” she teased. “It seemed only fair I enquired in kind.”

“How do you…” he frowned.

“People talk.” she dismissed. “And you are quite handsome despite your rude cat. I was interested anyway.”

The way she said that scared him a little.

She didn’t say it as if she intended this to be just a fun night. She said it as if she intended to have fun nights quite a few number of time in the near future and maybe some serious stuff in between the fun too.

He wasn’t sure he was up for that…

Of course, it was the moment Buttercup jumped from the bed directly on his stomach, leaving claw marks on his already scarred side, and sauntered away with his tail high, hissing for no particular reason.

“I think the cat has a crush on you, sweetheart.” he scowled, glaring at the retreating butt of the animal.

“Poor thing.” she laughed and then she got busy kissing up the side of his neck. He guided her leg more firmly over his hips so she was almost straddling him…

“He’s a fragile cat, you know.” he commented casually, running his palm up and down her thigh. “Looks all tough but… He’s been hurt pretty bad before. Made him a bit wild. Ain’t quite sure he’d known how to be tamed.”

“Some untamed animals can be very loyal pets.” she retorted, letting her lips travel to his collarbone. Her tongue found a small scare there and retraced its length. “It takes time to win anyone’s trust. I am quite… fond of him too, for what it’s worth. Despite our short acquaintance.”

How she could talk so fancy when she was doing unspeakable thing to his nipple – sucking and licking and… – he didn’t know.  

“Just…  Don’t toy with the cat’s feelings, yeah?” he insisted, guiding her head up to capture her mouth in a violent kiss.

“Never.” she promised, her hand wandering down his side only hesitate on the big swollen scar. She kept her eyes averted and her voice sounded more fragile than he had ever heard it.  “But I hope he won’t play with mine either.”

“That’s not his style.” he snorted, brushing his fingers along the length of her spine. “He’s more into collecting your panties.”  

“What a naughty cat.” she chuckled. “Is his owner just as naughty?”

He rolled them over and started kissing his way down her stomach, intending to show her just how naughty he could be.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #thg modern au #1st meeting #hayffie pets #fighting hayffie #crack #teapot #HBIC effie #not established

[journalxxx]

Awesome And Emotional Multichapter Fics That I Will Never Write - 4

This is a very messy and sloppy patchwork of a Discord convo, I hope it's somehow understandable. 

AU where, after Bill's demise, one of the Fords still roaming the universe finally manages to make his way back to his own universe. In a Gravity Falls where Stan has given up working on the portal a decade or so ago. Imagine Stan's surprise when, one foggy evening like any other, someone knocks on the door and interrupts his The Duchess Approves marathon. Guess who's the untimely visitor.

Now there's a funny idea... Bill getting in touch with Stan to get him to fix and reactivate the portal. He speaks with him only in dreams, obviously, but never reveals himself: he always takes the shape of Ford, taking advantage of Stan's guilt to make him work without questions. At some point though, Stan realizes the portal is Bad and stops working on it. Needless to say, it ends up with Bill/Ford screaming in his face how much of a useless, incompetent, straight-up murderous fuck-up he is and blaming him for letting his own brother to rot where he pushed him. It simply kills Stan to admit it, but it's obvious that the Ford giving him instructions is insane or positively evil, so he stops working on the portal.

Did I mention that Bill/Ford didn't just order Stan around and guilted him into doing stuff, but also straight up seduced him and gave him plenty of dreamscape sex as a further encouragement

"Wait, that wasn't you?" "I've never had the means to contact anyone telepathically through dimensions. They were likely just dreams." "...........................Oh..............." Imagine all the passionate dream sex, the heartfelt declarations of love and forgiveness, crowned by a warm "I trust you, Stanley. Get me out of here. I know you can do it." Imagine the memory of this leaving Stan positively gutted as he decides to seal the portal Together with the mandatory backlash of Bill hauting his dreams for the weeks to come, taking the shape of a fuming, looming, nightmarish Ford vomiting insults and accusations on him until he ultimately gets bored of it all So when Stan finds an angry Ford on his doorstep, his first thought is Shit, how did he come back?? The second ...Fuck, he's going to kill me. It doesn't help that Ford greets him with a deadpan "Long time no see", gun in hand out of habit/precautions, unadvertedly channeling all the right Professional Killer aesthetics. when ford asks for an explanation, stan just. lets his second nature kick in and maybe exaggerates a lil bit when talking about the blind eye, how they wanted to erase his memories, how he pretended to know nothing and turned ford's life upside down to throw them off completely while ALSO having the chance of working on the portal but then things happened so he was forced to chose between his brother in the portal or the crazy one in his dreams ford is glad that stan made the right choice (Probably throws in a curt "Mph. Could have thrown the towel much sooner, it would have spared you a lot of fruitless efforts. It's not like you had any hopes to make it work to begin with.") i kinda see..........stan...................................packing and leaving himself with no prompting from ford i hope wendy tied ford up to a tree trunk and she and soos questioned him for 47 hours straight soos KNEW there was a reason why stan didnt celebrate his hecking birthday or why on the winter nights he slept over snowed in, stan disappeared in the basement and looked like he hadnt slept in the morning Meanwhile, Stan has packed his stuff on the car, left, and parked less than two kilometres away because his eyes were too teary to see the fucking street. And then he fell asleep in his car, crying, like in the good old days How about bad stuff but with a good outcome. For example, Stan did get a bit too careless around toxic waste and inks and got cancer in the latest years. No one knows, obviously, thanks to the fact that he got a relatively tame and slow case in regards to symptoms, but a terminal one nonetheless. He doesn't really put up a fight when Ford kicks him out because it's not like he was going to spend much more time in that house anyway. Ford realizes only one or two weeks later, when he gets a call from the doctor asking why he didn't show up for the usual therapy. He finally has the common decency to start looking for his brother Eh, he's probably staying in the cheapest motel around, whiling his days away with pug trafficking and small jobs like that. Ford does find him and is not impressed, and Stan gets immediately defensive when he's asked about his illness. Turns out Ford has a cure for the thing (a sample and its formula snatched from a very polluted and irradiated dimension where tumors are just as common and manageable as the flu), and that he would gladly drop the stuff there and "fuck off" as Stan suggests - if it wasn't obvious that Stan can't even be trusted to follow simple therapies and instructions like the missed appointment with the doctor proved that's probably when Stan punches him it surely leaves him winded enough for Stan to grab him by his lapels and bodily hurl him out of the room. Barking insults at him and calling him a hypocrite and a coward, because he's obviously come simply to clear his own conscience for throwing him out while he's sick. Just remove the sickness and bam, problem solved, he's done his good, charitable deed for his idiotic brother, he can resume treating him like trash now. He can keep his bogus scifi meds for all Stan cares, he'd rather die out of stupidity than live out of fake pity. He wouldn't obtain anything that day, no amount of knocking or calling or talking at the door would get Stan to answer. But in the following days, he probably rummages around the house enough to find old and recent medical reports about Stan's health, which prove the problem does need to be addressed in a timely fashion. He finally finds Stan's notes about the portal too, and the instructions the fake Ford gave him to fix it and adjust it - and just by looking at the math, Ford can tell with certainty it was Bill, rather Stan's misguided subconscious. Knowing that he inadvertedly dragged Stan into the mess to the point of exposing him to Bill's dirty mind tricks is quite a blow to Ford. That's on him, 100% Stan keeps not answering for a few subsequent visits, but in the end he gives up and opens the door. Ford looks uncharacteristically subdued and, much to Stan's surprise, he asks him to come back home, at least for a while. Stan's ready to throw the invitation back in his face because he doesn't feel like playing the poor invalid patient to appease his brother's fleeting sense of charity, but Ford tells him that he wants to talk about a few things. Calmly and in due time, not as a hurried and snappy back and forth in a shadowy motel in the middle of nowhere. Stan hates himself for it (nothing new about that), but of course he lets himself be convinced

Turns out Stan's just as lonely as in the motel for the first days. Ford is constantly buried in the basement (turns out this dimension doesn't have the technology to produce certain components of the medicine, so Ford has to piece together the necessary machinery first, and then he can make the medicine itself, so he's always busy busy busy) and whatever he wanted to discuss with Stan isn't urgent, apparently. They barely cross paths in the kitchen and the bathroom, and they exchange no more words than strictly necessary. Anyway, after a few days of mandatory emotional constipation, Ford emerges from the basement to find weary post-chemo Stan tiredly dragging himself to the bedroom. Perfect occasion for a good old heart-to-heart, right? After the first assurances that Ford's medicine will be ready shortly and the following deafening silence, Ford finally starts talking. Stan isn't exactly in a conversational mood at the moment, but the stuff Ford's saying is pretty interesting, so he listens. He learns about Bill and his persuasive lies, of the actual dangers of the portal and of the possible consequences of its use. Although he can't remember for sure if he's ever shaken the fake Ford's hand or worded any sort of pact with him, it seems it doesn't really matter any more, since the bastard's dead. Ford's heard about it from other dimensional travellers, of how a human by the name of Stan Pines from the Earth had tricked the trickster. Until then, Ford confesses, he had believed there had been a slight misinformation spreading around, that another Ford had accomplished the goal, finished his gun and got close enough to Bill to use it. But maybe not. Maybe - considering how Ford had fallen for Bill's flattery hook, line and sinker, while Stan had seen through his lies before any damage could be done -maybe the stories were more accurate than he thought. Who knows. Stan doesn't contribute much to the conversation, partly because he doesn't really know what to make of it, partly because he feels about to puke his guts at any moment, and eventually Ford leaves him to rest. The next days are slightly less tense. Finally Ford can have Stan answer the phone, avoiding an impending house invasion by very concerned Dipper and Mabel. Soos and Wendy also drop by and Stan bullshits his way out of their questions (the Shack is closed for renovations, that weirdo who looks like him is an old relative visiting him, yada yada), just like he knows how to. Surprise surprise, Ford realizes it's the first time he's seen Stan smile since... he doesn't even remember. He does smile on the phone and with his employees - actually, his whole demeanour changes with them, he's more open, more boisterous and chatty. Until Ford enters his field of vision, that is. Then he's back to monosyllabic replies, ill-concealed hostility and reserve. Ford wonders which one of the two attitudes is a charade, or if neither of them is, and if Stan's even aware of his own bizarre behaviour. Eventually, the cure is ready, and Stan accepts to take it with a passiveness that confuses Ford. Truth to be told, Stan isn't very convinced it'll work. It's not like he doesn't trust Ford's knowledge, but he kind of expects some unforeseen problem to come up and screw him over. You don't go through all the stages of grief and acceptance of your own mortality just  to start hoping for miracles from dubious pseudo-scientific sources. The real shocker comes after one week of his new therapy, when he goes to the hospital for a check-up and the exams show that the mass has reduced by like 70%. Ford gets called by the doctors, has to take a taxi, retrieve the car and drive a slightly unhinged Stan home. "I told you I could come with you, but 'No Stanford, I'm not an invalid' -" "YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME IT WAS GOING TO FUCKING DISAPPEAR OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE" "I wasn't sure it would! Sometimes it takes a while to start working, it depends on the kind of tumor, the general health of the person-" "YOU'RE THE WORST SHITHEAD THAT EVER LIVED-" Bickering aside, Stan's not dying anymore. Would you look at that. At the current pace, he's going to be fully recovered very, very quickly. Then what? When Ford decides they've talked enough about whatever they need to talk about, then what, back to the motel and out of his life? Just beautiful. Before long, Ford corners him while giving him another injection and drops another bomb on him. Apparently, the nosy bastard has found some old notes detailing some of Stan's... less scientifically-oriented dreams. (Stan calls bullshit on that. Surely he never wrote that stuff down. Surely. Probably. Did he? Sure, he used to immediately jot down everything he dreamt about as soon as he woke up, to make sure he didn't forget or misremember any of Ford's instruction, but he wouldn't... not those... right...?) By whatever freaky means, Ford has a general idea of the methods Bill used to ensure Stan's cooperation, and he's oddly concerned about them. Oddly as in, not freaked out because of the obvious problem of Stan repeatedly dreaming about banging his own brother, which would be perfectly understandable. The curious thing is that his questions seem to imply that he thinks Stan might have found those dreams unpleasant or even hurtful, as if Bill might have twisted Stan's desires unnaturally, as if they hadn't been lingering in Stan's mind since way earlier than that. Which is such a laughable idea that Stan starts laughing in Ford's face. He could have seized the occasion to deny everything and preserve some dignity, but to what end, really? And uhm... as much as I want this to end in a heap of love, mush, forgiveness and cuddles, as usual my brain gets stuck when it comes to actually build a believable way to make that happen, so... yeah, eventually they talk about everything, somehow fall for each other deeply and sincerely, have lot of very passionate and very cathartic intimate moments. You know they do. The end :)

#stancest #billstan

[randisnotonfire-blog]

Wrong Love Final Chapter? Pt.1/2? Eddie Kaspbrak X Reader Modern AU

Summary: Ah, finally, it’s fall and you all are finally 19 or 20. Your favorite season, is what you thought...That damn clown decides to come back because apparently you and everyone thought you killed him, but you didn’t. This all leads down to a reunion of the Losers club even though sadly Bev isn’t there to make you feel like not the only girl in the entire group. (Also sorry if this is shitty asf bc I didn’t plan for a part 4 :/ ) Bill made the stupid decision of having everyone go down to the Neibolt house for one “last” time to kill the fucking clown. Which this causes some horrible things to happen that includes your fear. Death.

Pairings: Eddie Kasprak X Reader, Richie Tozier X Reader

Warnings: Death, cursing, triggering scenes, chaos, some harm, graphic descriptions I guess, spoopy scenes, me trying to add in some humor to a sad and spoopy fic, and anything else that you would expect in this series!

Requested: Yes

Song: Afraid by The Neighborhood, and Suckerz by Blackbear

Authors Note, descriptive warning: Okay so hey there, honestly I felt so bland if you can even say that, writing this. I don’t know what it was, shit happens I guess you can say. Okay so this might be a little bit too long but whatever lol: So as you may know there will be a death part in this. It will be triggering to some people, even I had to get up and question what the hell was I writing. No I am not a psychopath for writing this, this is actually something that I have been questioning a lot lately; What happens when we die? Sorry if that just gave you a existential crisis, but I am being serious about this since it is not a funny topic to be discussing with someone. I do know that I need to get help about it but I feel better writing out what’s going on in reality, my thoughts, and my depression if that all makes sense. Me and my non online best friend were discussing this during lunch class on Friday but the topic then got quickly pushed passed to a new topic when my friend noticed how my attitude changed, thankfully, but still its serious as I said. I had cried one day just thinking that we will all die lately and this is a now VERY serious reason why I can’t even handle and talk about death now. But I am okay with telling you guys for some reason but yeah lets just get writing, okay? Trust me I am fine if you have any questions just tell me also I WILL talk to a professional about this so don’t even think about contacting someone for me. 

            This chapter contains triggering scenes/parts, so if you are sensitive to this please DO NOT read on. And if you are then you have been warned. Please do not try to recreate anything that goes on in this, thank you for listening to me.

       (gif credits to rightful owner <3)

                                              *              *             *

                         Before:

“Okay so why are we here?” Stan said after almost 3 hours of just hanging out and relaxing in the quarry. “Yeah we should hurry up and get home soon, its completely dark outside since this was pointless” Richie said, you rolled your eyes. “Stop it you guys, and I think we all know why we are here” Eddie said while you walked over to him. “I’m tired Eddie” You whispered in his ear as he grasped ahold of your hand. “I know” He mumbled. “And I still wonder how Eddie out of our group got a girlfriend” Richie said trying to make a joke but everyone was being serious. “Last night…” Eddie said then Richie shuffled his hands through his hair from being nervous just to confront everyone about what happened. Eddie motioned for him to say what he did as everyone else just looked at each other but mainly just looking at Richie, “Dude I can’t tell them” Richie said quietly but stern, “Just tell them” Stan said awkward patting Richie’s shoulder. “Wait you know!? Y/n who did you tell!?” Richie said loudly from stress. “Just Eddie, but Stan just found out” you said quietly, shuffling your feet through the grass and dirt, “Just fucking tell them Rich!” Eddie said getting a little bit pissed off from Richie’s actions. “T-this is s-stupid” Bill said pointing to the three of you, “Fine!” Richie said rather loudly. “I fucking hit Y/n, are you happy that I told you now?!” Richie said yelling at everyone. You rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder. “I wish this was just a bad dream” you whispered to Eddie, trying to hide your face from everyone. Everyone was wordless, “You are all just a bunch of assholes” Richie said before walking away from the motionless astounded group. “S-seriously? Y-y/n d-did Richie rea-really do t-that?” Bill managed to speak out. You nodded and watched as everyone said their goodbyes and goodnights and left except for Stan.

              “Sorry Y/n” Stan said as he lightly punched your shoulder lightly, “Night” he said when he walked off and waved.

                       “Come on Y/n lets leave” Eddie said as he took your hand and walked off with you to his house.

Extended:

      “Eddie honestly I don’t think I want to deal with this drama anymore...” you said softly when you both walked into your house. “W-what do you mean?” he said with nervousness flooding through the pastel voice Eddie had. “I mean that I don’t want to be around anymore! Couldn’t you tell that I have been stressed and this bullshit with all these TV stereo typical love shit like fucking Twilight is stupid. I didn’t sign up for this when I decided to hang out with your friends and I don’t even want to be around them anymore Eddie. I can’t deal with these, You and Richie are like the worst part of my life now!” You tried not to yell but instead you felt stressful tears fall down from both of you. “If that’s what you really fucking want Y/n then I’m done with your drama, you can deal with Richie on your own” He poked your chest when he said ‘You’ then left slamming the door shut. You had never felt this regretful in your entire life. 

                                      *              *             *

You peared looking out your foggy early morning window, watching a specific golden leaf fall that had caught your attention. “Y/n?” Eddie said as he walked into your room to see you sitting at one of your chairs, looking outside. “mhm?” You said softly. “Your mom said I could come in” “Okay” “are you okay?” He said as he sat on the floor next to you. “Yeah I guess...why are you even here though...” “You haven’t been answering my calls...” You opened your mouth to speak but it closed in fear of telling him the real truth: that you have been staying in your room for the entire week watching TV and browsing your social medias, avoiding him at school. And this was all because of that one night. “I’m sorry Eddie..for everything” You said as you averted your attention to him. Remembering that night after the drama filled week, when Eddie crawled back to you because he thought he had been the main source of all of this made you still heartbroken for saying those hurtful words to him. “It’s fine but your mom wants us to come downstairs” you nodded then got up from your sitting position and left the room with Eddie. 

     “Hi sweetie” Your mom said with a smile as she finished chopping up some food for dinner tonight. “Hey” “Eddie wanted to know if you both could go out, so I said only if it was okay with you” You nodded then said sure. “so do you want to leave now” “Yeah” “Okay be safe and please make smart choices, bye Eddie and tell your mom I said ‘Hi’ okay?” you rolled your eyes at your moms total obliviousness for being over-protective. “I will Mrs. L/n (last name)” You smiled then he grabbed your hand in a hurry to leave. When you guys got outside you quickly let go of his. “Where are we going and why did you do that? My mom knows about the fight and the breakup Eddie...She was at the house..during the fight..it was awkward having to explain to her..” “She knows everything?!” Eddie said as he let go of your hand too. “Yeah, she does. Now tell me where we are going before I go walk back home” You said. “Neibolt house...” you rolled your eyes thinking he had to have been lying to you. “I’m being serious Y/n..Wait don’t you have that nail bat in your garage?” “Yeah...” You said trying not to think about the last time you got dragged there, how your fear then was clowns and now it’s death. “Go get it..” You rolled your eyes yet again since he wanted you to have a weapon at least. “Fine” you muttered then ran back to get it, then ran back again back to him.

                                                  *              *            *

    “We’re here” Eddie said as he looked at Bill then at Mike. “Good” “Okay so why are we here?” You interrupted their planning time. “why else do you think we are here Y/n” Richie hissed. “Shut up, and the clown. Don’t you remember?” Stan said and smiled from seeing your presence after two years without the Losers club. “Yeah obviously” “Has she always been this bitchy?” Richie whispered loudly to Mike. “Shut up Richie” Mike hissed back, Richie shrugged his shoulders. “W-wh-we need to h-hu-hurry up” Bill stuttered out. You all nodded your heads in agreement. Eddie grasped your hand before you all walked in, giving you a small smile you gave him a smile back. You picked up your nailed bat and walked in with him. 

     Walking in you checked your phone to see what time it was, but saw that you received no signal in there gave you chills. Putting your phone back in your back pocket of your ripped jeans you looked around. “This place is even more shitty than I remember, if that’s even possible” You muttered. “Yeah...” Eddie said as he saw the dusty book shelves and the broken TV. “Ke-keep your b-bat with y-yo-you Y-y/n” Bill said quietly. Richie was walking around and ended up getting split up with the rest of the group. Stan stayed closer to you than possible, and this was only because he and Eddie were the only two people out of the group who REALLY did care about your safety. “Where did trashmouth go..?” Eddie said as he let go of your hand to try and find him. “I think he went upstairs” you spoke when you felt the softness leave your hand. Then suddenly Mike got split up from the others, then the same happened for everyone else. Stan went looking for Bill,Mike went looking for you, and Eddie went looking for Richie. Which left you alone upstairs, straight to the point you were upstairs in a locked room.

      “Get away” you screamed at the top of your lungs when you saw a man who represented your fear. Death, murders, and being forgotten. You don’t know what struct your fear for being murdered but it all just happened when your friend died in a car crash. Thinking about dying and never knowing what will happen after left you in tears from that day. You were screaming and crying whilst banging on the door in hopes it would open up. You heard yelling outside the door, it was everyone and they all sounded scared and worried as hell. Anxiety rode up on you like a jackass trying to get around your car but instead their car is so close to yours. “Somebody please help me!” You cried out. When the door finally busted open everything went black. Your last thoughts were: “I’m dead, this is the end of Y/n.” Everyone screamed when they saw blood and your body. Some were motionless but everything was too real that it made it scary. “S-so-somebody d-do s-so-something!” Bill screamed. Eddie was in tears and ran out but ended up falling just like the first time this happened. Then he screamed and Richie came running to help him. Mike just stood there motionless because this reminded him of all that happened to his family. Bill and Stan tried to wake you up but failed. “M-my mom s-said that i-if you c-check someone’s p-pulse it t-tells you if they ar-are dead” Stan said, he only stuttered when he was nervous or scared. Bill nodded and checked your pulse but received nothing “SHE IS FUCKING DEAD!!” Stan screamed at the top of his lungs. Mike was crying and everything was a full on chaotic mess. Quickly Stan yelled at Mike to help them pick you up to at least get you all outside and somewhat safe. 

                                         *                 *               *

     “Richie I said there is a fucking inhaler in the second fanny pack outside!” Eddie screamed in between breathes. “OKAY OKAY I WILL GO GET IT” Richie said running outside. “Don’t forget the fucking bat!” Mike yelled. “Pick the damn thing up then!” Stan yelled at him back, then Mike picked it up and helped them carry you downstairs. “Y/n?” Eddie said when he saw Bill and Stan trying to carry your limp and heavy body downstairs. “What the fuck!” Richie screamed then threw Eddie’s fanny pack at Eddie. He caught the fanny pack then tried his best to get his inhaler. When he found it he practically took all the air the inhaler had. “Here” Mike gave Richie the nailed bat. “Is she even breathing!?” “Can’t Eddie like give her his inhaler?” Richie said. “Nah dipshit!” Eddie yelled when he saw your limp hand move from Bill and Stan trying to move outside. Then to make everything worse that fucking demon clown appeared. This was some Stranger Things shit because that fucking clown was coming out of the wall. “What the-AHHHHHHH” Eddie screamed at the top of his lungs, he got up and bolted out of the house. Richie ended up trying to chase down Eddie to make his slow down and calm down to. Mike helped Stan and Bill get you out safely. When you were all outside Richie was still chasing Eddie to make him stop running. “EDS SLOW THE FUCK DOWN” Richie screamed at Eddie. “Is she okay, wait what do you mean she isn’t breathing?!” Mike said in a scared tone. “This is fucking stupid!” Stan said loudly then let go of your body. “I’m going home, I don’t want to touch a dead girl...” Stan said and got in car, driving off to his house. “Asshole” mike muttered then noticed your tiny body was crushing Bill. “H-help me!” Bill said while Mike went over to help up your body. “H-how are w-we g-go-going to t-tell h-he-her parents?!” Bill spazzed out. “We a-al-already l-lu-lost G-Ge-Georgie!” Bill managed to stutter out. “Calm down, we need to atleast get Richie to give us a ride to her house” “M-mu-mike HOW A-ARE WE GOING TO TELL H-HER MO-MOM!?” Bill yelled out with stress. “I got h-him” Richie said as he had Eddie following him. “He ran like a fucking mile..past 29-Neibolt street...” Richie said as his speech slowed down from running. “It’s not my fault that there was a fucking cLOWN COMING OUT OF THE WALL!” “Calm down you guys! We need a ride to Y/n’s house” Mike said then looked at the ground. “Yeah I guess you can get a ride home from me...” Richie said. “H-how are w-we going to tell Mrs. L/n (Last name)..” “We just tell her” Eddie spoke up. 

     The drive up there was awkward for the 4 boys to be in a car with a what seemed to be dead friend. “I can’t believe I’m in a fucking car with my dead fucking ex!” Eddie muttered. “This is crazy!” His last mutters turned his new words into slight yelling. “Calm down! We will get this taken care of!” “Mike seriously, I agree with Eddie. How the hell are we going to tell the fucking cops?! Or even her mom!?” Richie said. “All th-they will t-th-think is t-th-that w-we kil-killed h-her” Bill said softly and quietly. “See! Even Richie and Bill think this is crazy!” Eddie went to get his inhaler. “I’m fucking out!” He yelled and his breathing got worse. “Bill or Mike there should be a extra inhaler lying around in the back seat somewhere” (FUCKING REDDIE RIGHT THERE M8 OFC RICHIE WOULD HAVE AN EXTRA INHALER!! lmao) “Okay” 

                                        *               *              *

           Richie nearly ran over a old ladys mailbox when parking, “Slow down man!” Mike yelled. “Shush it I know how to drive!” Eddie rolled his eyes. “I don’t feel good about this...” Eddie said quietly. “You’re the one who said we do this!” Richie said as he turned off the car and turned to look at everyone else, and at your dead body...”Who votes that Eddie tells Y/n’s mom?” Richie spoke up. Everyone raised their hand and Eddie groaned. “You guys suck” (Insert Richie making another dick joke lmao) “Not as hard as I do” Richie said with a smirk.  “Toizer, are you hinting that you’re gay?” Mike said (Eddie needs his gay inhaler rn during this part lmao). He rolled his eyes then Eddie got out of the car. 

    When Eddie knocked on the door his entire heart sunk and he felt the need to cry. In Eddie’s mind he was just thinking that this was stupid, like seriously? Showing up at your ex girlfriend’s house to tell her MOTHER that she is fucking dead because of a psycho ass bitch clown? He took a deep sigh then the door swung open. It. Was. Her. Fucking. Dad. Eddie was now screaming internally. “H-hey Mr. L/n” Eddie forced himself to give out a pain-killing smile. “Hiya Eddie, where is Y/n” Your dad said. “YourdaughterisfuckingdeadtherewasafuckingclownthatkilledherandIdon’tknowwhatodopleasedontfuckingkillmeiminnocentashellunlikeRichie!” Eddie said fastly before he ran back to the car before your dad grabed his shoulder, forcing him to stop. “Did you just say Y/n is dead?” your dad said sternly but concerned. “Y/m/n (Your mom’s name)” Your dad called out loudly. “Yes?” Your mom said when she walked out. “Oh hi Eddie, where is Y/n?” Your mom smiled brightly then her smile turned into a frown. “is she really dead Eddie?” Her voice cracked with depression. Eddie nodded then Richie and everyone else got out of his dumpy car. Stan, Bill, Mike, and Richie came walking up and stood next to Eddie. “Richie Tozier are you seriously okay with my ‘dead’ daughter’s body in your car?!” Your dad’s voice raised. “Y-yes. I really am. If it was anyone else then I probably wouldn’t even be able to have him or her near my car” Richie spoke the truth which made your moms heart sink. “I wouldn’t want to ever call the ambulance or the cops on you guys, but I have to” Your mom said then went inside. “Please..Come inside” Your dad motioned for them all to come inside. 

      They all took a seat on the couch, “Bill!” your little sister yelled out as she ran into the living room with her friend. “Y/s/n! (Your sister’s name)” Bill said when he saw the little 6 year old girl, he smiled softly when she hugged his leg since she was short for her age. “Where is Y/n?” She said then sat down next to him. As if on cue your mom came walking in and picked up Y/s/n. “S-she is at the- skate factory with her other friends” Your mom forced a fake smile and Bill nodded at her. “Thank you” he mouthed to her and your mom walked into a different room. “Why is she still at the skate factory then?” Your sister’s friend asked Bill quietly. Bill tried to not cry when he remembered seeing her play around with Georgie, when Mike saw Bill’s reaction to the little girl he chimed in. “S-she is a-uh sick..She refused t-to leave” Richie then texted Mike. “Nice reply dipshit” then when Mike got the text he responded back saying: “Bite me” 

       The police and ambulence sirens got louder and the little girl ran into your sister’s room. You had been quickly taken to the hospital, everybody had to tag along but your sister’s little friend couldn’t because her mom wouldn’t allow her to. 

                                            *                 *                *

     Extended:

     Stan, Eddie, Richie, Your sister, mom, and dad were the people who decided to stay. Stan, Eddie, and Richie all had to watch your little sister in the waiting room while your mom and dad were talking to the doctors. “Richie wake up!” Your sister called out as she tugged on his shirt. It was 11pm and they were fighting to stay awake but Richie fell asleep knowing him. “What?” Richie said. Eddie was wide awake and nervously sitting in the middle of Stan and Richie. “Boys, me and Mr. L/n (your last name) are gonna watch Y/n’s little sister for a bit so you all can go check in on her, okay?”  Your mom called out. “Richie wake the fu- I mean wake up” Eddie said as he quickly got up and walked into your room with Stan and Richie. “Y/n?” they called out but received no answer. “You guys can I have some alone time...?”  Richie and Stan nodded and left.

      “Y/n...I’m sorry for everything I put you through” Eddie said breaking down when he took a seat next to you. “Even though you are my moon and my stars, doesn’t mean that its wrong for you to be my ex along with that. Even though people say its considered wrong to be best friends with your ex we proved them wrong” Eddie’s voice cracked from crying. “If I knew you were going to die then my last words to you wouldn’t have been about that stupid nailed bat...” “And we all did really care about you Y/n”  The tear drops from his heavy eyes fell onto your pale skin and the white bed sheets on the hospital bed. “I really do love you Y/n” and now I guess you can say that was the last words Eddie said to you. Now the sounds of the machine beeping that showed you had been alive now stopped. And everything was done. Forever. 

                                   *                       *                     *

#wrong love #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak x reader #final chapter #richie tozier #jack dylan grazer #jack d grazer #bill denbrough #georgie denbrough #stanley uris #stan uris

[kandadiff]

Below are the live comments for the ‘Live’ Video. It wasn't live but they don’t know that.

- Kay and Bommie’s relationship is honestly adorable. 

- oh here we go CL starting stuff, I’m almost sure she likes Gd.

- same im starting to think that wasn’t an accident.

- I ship Minho and afi…. so if they messed... it is what is is

-nah sis, Bunny Dragon all the way. 

- Okay yeah, Cl is being a shitty person here. what did she expect Kya to do? Not stick up for Adi, even though she left funhouse they still love each other.

-wait wait wait. Suga and Kay hooked up!! SUGA AND KAY HOOKED UP!!!

- #Kuga shippers its our time!!!

- Ive been waiting!!!!!! #KUGA

- Nah #KamKam forever!

- ^delusional

- Wonho is honestly so fucking hot. Like look at my healthy daddy running.

- Namjoon needs to stop avoiding Jackson. I need my #Namson moments.

- I find it so freaking funny hes avoiding Jackson.

- They got drunk during the blackout. Look at Taehuns face you can see that's his hangover face, 

- Of course the power goes out and they get drunk. 

- mood ^

- Did Kay really just try to act like it wasn’t her apparently screaming yoongis name. 

- A sex tape I need to see

- 100% would buy

- What song is this?

- La despidida by daddy yankee

- ^ thank you 

- oop Gd looks mad

- Look at poor daesung so cute!!! 

-Jackson is to much sometimes. So I get it. One time I had a friend like that and she was just constantly talking and talking and wouldn’t levae me alone and i’m an introvert so it was hard to always be there for her. 

- ^The cassie of her group.

- #KAYTOP evidence

- There it goes bobby talking shit

-Kay is so dramatic I swear. I’m over her bratty attitude.

- You can tell shes an only child

- Shes not being dramatic though but …. go off Ig

-oop Gd letting his true feelings slip. I clocked it.

- No I agree with what kay said. He was projecting his feelings for Adi on her. I wonder if she really did sleep with Minho and that's why hes so mad. 

- TELL GD WHAT IS UP! YOU ARE NOT OWNED !

- PREACH IT!

-yo someone needs to punch bobby out.

- THEY FUCKED AGAINST THE WINDOW?!!!? I cant!!!

- 😱 WHY COULDNT WE SEE THAT 

- I NEED THE KUGA SEX TAPE!

- Yo im no yoongi stan but that is bold af

- I also find it weird that daesung went out in the rain

- Seungri knew what was happening and just wanted to see

- #GdBeingPetty

- Gd is so fucking hot when hes angry 

- ikr Take me daddy

- ooooo Gd vs Kay!

- Money is on gd Kay is chilish

- sure shes being childish

- DADDY GD!

- Yo she just called out Jennie

- OMG BOBBY SHUT UP!!!!!!!

-I knew kay and bobby used to date. I saw how she was when she was in ornage caramel. I fucking knew it.

- I thought it was obvious!

- OOOO that's why Kay don’t fuck with Jisoo anymore.. I bet it was her 

-Oh yeah ! I am living for this drama!!

- King Bobby and King Jiyong lol

- I love it when she does that 

- lol she still made bommie breakfast

- is it weird I still ship her and bobby

- no

- yes

- Adi is so cute when she wakes up. Like a bbay 100% adi stan

- SHE WAS SLEEPING WITH MINHO!

-Yes sleeping not sexing

- Hes not wearing a shirt

- they are in fucking spain when its summer there soooo I bet its hot

-Theres a difference

- I don’t see the problem at all. Shes single so whats the issue

- Adi is a whole mood right now. 

- oh daddy Minho the voice of reason

- ikr I seriously love him.

- who came to the door? I didn’t see

- Jiwoo

- I bet they actually closed the door and CL opened it

- Shes not that petty

- girl she is

- OOOOO SHIT ADI THREW UP HER HAIR. THIS BITCH ABOUT TO FIGHT!

- yaaasss queen!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- oh fuck! she just really came and screamed in this bitches face.

- shes a shit starter

- you better be talking about CL ^ adi is just sticking up for herself

- Look at how big wonho is. he towers over adi. 

- I want a ‘Adi’s Biggest Dick Rider’ shirt

- oh CL doesn’t even look bothered 

- ^ true queen keeping it classy not trashy

- ^ oh fuck off CL was wrong 

- I support #SkyDragon

- I believe Minho. why would he lie? #HonestDaddy

- my thirst is real for Minho right now. Looking like a whole snack

-HAHAHA V confirming Kuga !

- I love V

- this is why hes my bias

-OOOO SHIT ADI GETTING READY TO RUMBLE!

-THE JOHNSON IS COMING OUT!

- CAN YOU SMELL WHAT THE ROCK IS COOKING?!

- Yo did she just smack wonho out of the way? hes like at least 70 pounds heavier then her.

- ooo shit adi laying it down

- I am living for this ! fuck cl and gd

- they were friends first. Adi is just jealous!

- IK id be upset too! CL loves Gd and adi just came in and ruined it

- No No No

- Cl LoVes gD aNd AdI JuSt WaNtS To RuIN iT. 

- That's bullshit. Gd chose adi they are a good couple. CL should be supportive instead of being upset

- no I completely understand CL’s perspective, Adi should have backed off

- ^ no youre wrong so shut up 

- finally gd comes in!

- everyone is coming in right now 

- OOOO if adi went after mino knowing CL liked him that's fucked up

- ^ THAT IS WHAT CL IS DOING WITH GD

-Ik obviously CL knows Adi’ s feelings towards gd she should have been womn enough to back off. I would be petty like adi too

- no I don't think she should have gone after mino but I do agree CL should have backed off.

- WTF is Gd doing right now? like its the time to speak tf up

-aww Minho being the peacemaker

- I feel so bad he doesn’t want anyone to fight

- yooo my Russian princess! Katya spitting truth

- Katya is right! Honestly Cl should mind her business

- Gd is her best friend it is her business

- ^no its Gd’s and Adi’s that's it

-YO BOBBY NEEDS TO STOP OF IM GOING TO GO THROUGH THIS SCREEN AND THROW SOME HANDS!

-You know you fucked up if Makayla is yelling at you

- My hippie queen is so beautiful

- ADI SPITTING FIRE! 

- Shes right bobby is fucking ugly

-No hes not! hes hot and hes right FunHouse is known for the sluttiest songs in Kpop

- so?

- it doesn't make them sluts

- SHE CALLED CL POCKET PUSSY! IM SCREAMIN!!!!!!

- I NEED THAT ON A SHIRT!!!!

- OMG LOOK AT HER FACE

- FINALLY SOMEONE IS TELLING BOBBY OFF! THANK GOD!

- Poor Minho still trying to keep the peace. 

- honestly its so far past trying to stop it at this point.

- FINALLY GD OPENS HIS MOUTH

- But he didn’t say anything though

- yeha all he said was he belives adi

- hes not trying to take sides

- okay right now he has to because it directly involves him.

- I lOvE bObBy - shut up jisoo

- Jisoo ‘let me make it about myself’ Kim

- shes just sticking up for herself, what is with all this hate?

- ITS NOT THE FUCKING TIME! THATS THE PROBLEM!

-STAN ROSE STAN THE QUEEN

-Rose is the only real one in BlackPink, I’ll say it 

- Lisa too

- ^ I said what I said

-YOOOOOO CL IS BUGGING!

- Even rose knew CL fucked up look at her face

- someone make that a gif

- CL is wrong she did not have to bring up Shawn and Edward

- she did it because she was losing

- no she did it because Arianna needed to hear it. 

- ^ this

- No that's fucked up because it has nothing to do with the argument!

- exactly! #QueenKatya

- Shes right! Its not the person who had the cheating partner’s fault they cheated. 

- YOOO JISOO WHAT HAPPENED I THOUGHT YOU LOVED BOBBY 

- katya don’t give no fucks she just exposed the shit out of them

- shes lying 

- ^exactly shes just starting shirt like adi. Jisoo never cheated on bobby. come on

- OOOOOO ADI SWUNG

- !!!

- SHE IS BEATING HER ASS

- OMFG!!!

- I NEED TO MAKE GIFS!

-JISOO JUST SWUNG TOO!

- KATYA FUCKING FLUNG HER!

-lisa is stupid did sje really try it?

- V and katya are couple goals honestly

- I bet you if he could v would be swinging too

- Taehyung would never hit a girl

- ^ she wasn’t saying that she was saying that if he could he would hit Lisa for coming at Katya. 

- Look bobbys going to try and protect his butt buddy CL

- they are friends and Adi is assaulting her

- SHIT I WOULD TOO!

- King Jb stopping the fight

- ADI TOOK CL’S EXTENSTIONS OUT!!!

- OMG!

- where do you see it?

- LOWER LEFT IS CL’S EXTENSTIONS!!!

- mama bear draven has such big dick energy my big gay ass cant handle it

- Look at how she looked at CL . shes going to swing

- CL should swing at her! Ugly bitch 

- Katya is terrifying speaking like that

- wheres the Russian fans what is she saying

- shes calling the girls inside dirty whores who fuck there fathers

- V & Katya are what iwant in a marriage

- Did Makayla just say that Haerin slept with Mino?

- I clocked that too^

- Angry draven is so hot

- Katya is seriously terrifying right now

- Adi is ready for round too

- she looks like Muhammad Ali

- ugly ?

- ^ no like shes going to kick your bias in the asshole

- what did she say in german?

- I love you ? I think

- She said CL has STD’s and that she loves Katya

-poor Makayla look at her she looks like shes going to cry

- #BTSStansFunhouse

-#GOT7StansFunhouse

- the power team right here ^

- If you don’t side with funhouse your wrong

- I know if your bias does and you don't your not a fan

- Army sides with funhouse

- no they are wrong! look at CL’s face! she didn't have to do all that

- honestly if kay didn’t open her mouth then this wouldn’t be a problem

- no no no CL said it there fore it was going to come out

- yeah whatever she said she said. that's how she was feeling

- she didn’t have to beat the fuck out of CL though. No one should ever put there hands on someone else

- ^ I side with Adi but she didn’t have to hit CL

- Yeah she could have just pushed her off like Katya did with Jisoo

- Katya only did that because Jisoo came at her first. 

- Funhouse is NOT the new 2ne1!

- ^ No FH is better

- proud mama bear draven!

- did she just call them twat snatchers

- honestly I thought the first fight in the house would have her throwing the first punch but im really glad its adi

- FUNHOUSE FOREVER!!

- ooh herecomes the shit starter

- ^ don’t be like bobby now

- Kay didn't start anything! CL DID

-CL started everything! 

 - ADI STARTED EVERYTHING!

- NO GD NOT FUCKING SPEAKING UP STARTED THIS ALL!

- I live for angry suga

- he looks like a kitten I cant take him seriously

- neither can bobby ^

- Can we mention how whipped monsta x is for Kay like doesn this bitch got a spell on them or something? and can I have it?

- Oh here we go with CL

- CL IS RIGHT! KAY STARTED THIS WHEN SHE OPENED HER MOUTH!

- Oh your a fake friend then because you wouldn’t see anything wrong with this if you had a real friend

-^ periodt!

- EXACTLY ! KAY JUST REPEATED WHAT CL SAID!

- aww hobi 

- #Kobi

- I like how they are all ganging up on her now when her group is outside.. pussies

- good fuck her

- YO BOBBY NEEDS TO STOP

- FUCK YES SUGA!!!

- SHIT!!!!

- Boy gained my respect! STICK UP FOR YOUR GIRL!

-IDK why everyone is shocked. everytime bobby is mentioned Suga calls him a  loser

- Is it wrong I want to see Bi vs Jungkook?

- hell no I want to see it too!

- BlackPink is getting real bold! Now that they got a little fame they getting real brave

- they can! They are bigger then funhouse 

- since when? Funhouse has more awards and titles then them.

- maybe bigger in korea

- not really ^

- oh look the dram aqueen cant handle being yelled at

- shes not being yelled at ^ shes being ganged up on

- I knew matthew be slinging dick

- oh hell yes 

- you know hes packing too

- Kay is right though if she was a man her antics wouldn't be a problem 

- but shes not a  man so she has to deal with the whore label

- ^ you are an asshole 

- No shes pulling the feminist card. shes a slut and she has to deal with it. shes been a slut since liam and she still hasn’t grown out of it

- ^ it must be so sad to be you

- my baby is crying! 

- Aww hobi loves her look at how hurt he is to see her cry

- she should be crying! She fucked up! Adi should be crying too! I hope that bitch gets charged with assault! 

- people need to stop crowding her though, she looks like she cant breathe

- SHOWNU SPEAKS THE TRUTH!

- Monsta X is Kay’s posse for real

- yo someone needs to pop jennie in her fucking mouth

- I know shes pissing me off

- why is veryone coming for Jennie all shes doing is talking

- talking shit!

- #KamKam strikes again

- ^ ikr I love them so much

- ^ tiffany ships it too I guess

- ^ why does she have to bring Jackson into it though?

- SEE I TOLD YOU! SHE COULDN’T BREATHE!

- Oh now gd wants to step in to help? good im glas Jin and Jimin stop him

- he could have pushed past them if he truly wanted to help though

- look at yoongi when namjoon said that though! he looked so worried

- then bobby popped him

- Hero Jackson getting his future wife out of crisis

- future wife? not anymore I bet

- I wouldn’t marry her

- ^ speak for yourself anyone in funhouse id get down on my knees for

- ADI AND KATYA REALLY WENT THROUGH THE FUCKING WINDOW!

- IM SCREAMING!!

- YOOO SHE JUST REALLY FLING JISOO

- she needs to get Jennie

- SHES VIOLENT AF! 

- ^ the fight was supposed to be over and this ratchet bitch just started it again

- again with pocket pussy 

-^ I need that shirt now

- YAAAASSSSS QUEENS!!

-You know damn well Jungkook did that push on purpose

- I know hes really ready to fucking fight someone

- FINALLY KATYA PUTS JENNIE IN HER PLACE

-what happned lisa? not so big and bold?

-^ lisa was classy she knew the fight was over

- yooo wtf did yuri say yesterday? 

- ^idk but katya fucked that bitch up

- what did she say? Russian fans!

- she called her a piece of shit

- ^ a talentless piece of shit

- damn Jungkook and wonho really snatched up there girls huh? I ship it

- Katya is with V

- doesn't matter I ship it anyway

- YOOOOO SUGA FUCKED BOBBY UP

- Maybe it will work like squidward and make him prettier

- bobby is hot af soo

- suga was wearing rings that not fucking fair. Let bobby put on some rings 

- ^ and he’ll still get his fucking ass beat

- he tried to choke bobby like this is no joke

- he sucker punched him Suga is a pussy 

- Yugyeom angry is so hot

- Taeyangs face makes me want to cry he was just trying to help

- jb wasn't going to let him outside

- lol adi’s petty fucking dance has me dying

- I am living for the drama this season

- this si the best day of my life #teamFunhouse

- Way better then the drama last season # Team2ne1

[m2009u]

Chapter 3: Ravage 2099 #1

Stan Lee have created many memorable characters.  I mean why do you think the Marvel Cinematic Universe exist in the first place.  He made all of them (as well as Steve Ditko and Jack Kirby).  He made SpiderMan, The Fantastic Four, XMen, Iron Man, The Incredible Hulk, Ant Man, Wasp, Thor, Doctor Doom, Loki, The Sinister Six, Doctor Strange, Silver Surfer, etc.  The last Marvel Hero he made before retiring from writing for Marvel for a period of time was She Hulk, IIRC.

That is until Marvel 2099, where he decided to throw his hat in the pool and use his magic to create an original hero for the line of comics: Ravage 2099.  Will this character win over the audience like many of the past Stan Lee heroes he made during his hey day?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The story opens up with a guy being chased by a police state version of the EPA called Eco Patrol for the crime of polluting.

Yep, in the future society takes “Going Green” way too seriously.  How seriously?  Well apparently crimes for polluting is punishible by death.

Makes you want to think twice about littering, doesn’t it?

No, this isn’t typical Eco Patrol protocols as evidenced with CEO of Eco Patrol Paul Phillip (yep, Paul Phillip cause Stan Lee can’t get enough of that alliterative names) voice displeasure in his squad killing another polluter.

Y’know I hate to rip off a criticism from Linkara’s review of this comic, but fuck it the dialogue sucks.  Having Stan Lee, a writer prominent during the Silver Age, write a 90s comic was not good idea seeing how the dialogue characters are completely out of place.  I mean just read the next panel.  

See what I mean?  Its not out of place for a 60s comic book character to spout out some form of exposition.  But one from the 90s, who is from the shocking future of 2099?  Consider my immersion dead.

Anyway, Tiana tell Paul the story of how her father once tried to investigate Alchemax and ended up deported to Hellrock, which is a toxic wasteland of an island where no human life can survive.

Originally I was going to make fun of Tiana for telling this story to showcase how corrupt Alchmax is.  But considering how ridiculously naive Paul is, I think she should of just made a graphical chart illustrating why the company is bad.

After ignoring Tiana’s warning, Paul heads to Alchemax only to be mugged by a punch of street punks.

And no the dialogue did not improve at all.  So much so that as he fights them he exposits as he fights.

After kicking the gang’s ass through the power of 

 Really?  You called bullshit on your hot, loyal secretary’s story about how the corruption in Alchemax led to her father’s disappearance, but when some random street punk tells you that his gunned down father “Dindu Nuffin” you believe him?  You know nothing, Paul Phillip! 

So the two head to Alchemax Headquarters to meet with Director General Anderthorp Henton on the matters of corruption in the company.

Something tells he is going to fuck a bunch of holograms later on.  Anyway Henton welcomes Paul Phillip by addressing him by his last name Ravage . . . yeah I can see why he doesn’t want to be called that as its a stupid surname.  So Dack, the kid Paul bring, tells Henton the story and being an understanding company figure head he

I think we all know where this is obviously going.

Yep, bad guy.  And of the Bond villain variety.

So Henton called on a private conference call with the directors of the company to discuss what they must do with Ravage who grows suspicious of the company (but not really since Ravage is too much of a loyalist to Alchemax to notice their obvious corruption).

Unbeknownts to him, Tiana heard the entire conversation which proves how much of a Bond villain to not check and make sure no one else is on the line in the call. 

But seriously, I know she is the one who established the call but Henton could of checked to make sure none of his employees are a part of the private conference call through caller ID.  This is the future for God’s sake.  If they can have holophones as seen in Spider-Man 1099 #1 and 2, surely they would have some sort of tab that shows who is in the call just like any work meeting tool like Web EX.

Ravage meanwhile walks Dack out after blindly accepting what Henton said.

Clearly this is not a comic written by an old man behind times.  I can totally relate with the main character in his rule abiding ways and civil minded attitude.

As he got back to his office, Tiana tries (and fail) to warn Paul of the impending danger.

But just as they are about to walk out, a Metroid crash into the bui

Writer’s Note: Yes, this totally did happen!  Anderthrop sends a Metroid at Paul!  I did not Photoshop’d this panel whatsoever! Seriously, I didn’t!  I am super cereal!

The Metroid is a part of these “Mutroids” from Hellrock.  They are pretty much a whole army of Duke Nukems (the villain from Captain Planet, not the 3D Realms character) in that they want to pollute the world.  The Metroid believes that Ravage is the secret benefactor from the humans who called him to help in their cause.

After hearing that, members of the Eco Patrol now believes that Ravage is a traitor.

Oh Ravage.  Did you forget that your whole department is a far left authoritarian group who refuse to listen to logic and reason, especially those that are too the contrary.  Plus this is America: anything that is different must die as evidenced with Aaron’s reaction to Spider-Vamp.

What happens next is that Ravage fights Eco Patrol.  But instead of posting pictures, I’ll just give you only the dialogue from the fight itself just to show you how ridiculous they are.

“All right, you two-bit cretins!  If it’s a fight you want -- COME AND GET IT!” Ravage shouts as he throws a chair.

“It’s easy to hit someone who’s standing still! How come your shots are wild now?  My fault!  I should’a trained you better!” he exposited as he clothesline two of the members of Eco Patrol.

“Hey, if it’s a clear shot you want -- How’s this?” Ravage quipped as he picks up a gun and shoots his attacker.

“You think that’ll save you?” said the Eco Patrol after dodging a vase thrown by Ravage.  “It might -- considering who you back into!” Ravage retorted as the guard is absorbed by the Metroid.

God the dialogue is so Silver Age-y.  Though I find it funny that the whole fight actually starts the moment Ravage throws a chair.

In his office getting a message and a possible “Happy Ending”, Anderthrop watches the fight cementing his status as a Bond villain.

And I mean REALLY cementing that status.  He’s going to pull that Bond Villain Stupidity of not witnessing his victim’s demise.  Don’t he know that just by missing every second of what happens increase the hero’s chance of escape?

Well an explosion would of certainly do the job . . . if he pressed it a couple of seconds earlier before Ravage smashed open the window to allow for himself and Tiana to evade the explosion in time!

If he kept watching the video, he could of either detonate the bomb before they got out in time or contact more Eco Patrol guys to scout the area for the surviving Paul Phillip.  Way to Bond Villain that up, Anderthrop!

The two were then seen hiding out in who I assumed Dack’s apartment.

You do realize Ravage is your surname, right?

Ravage then goes to a junkyard to gear himself up with trash.

And then he finds and steals a garbage truck to use as his mode of transportation.

First off, I am now noticing how his dialogue have shifted from being a stick up his ass law abiding executive and now he sounds like a Casey Jones style New Yorker from the Bronx.  Second off, why did he just go to the black market to arm himself actual useful weapons instead of garbage?  Third, Ravage isn’t a fitting name to his character now.  Sure it means “beating up somebody violently”, but with that name that could apply to any hero who is a brutal fighter.  No, from now on, he shall hence forth be known as: The Garbage Avenger!

Meanwhile on Hellrock, we get a glimpse of the Big Bad of this series.  Dethstryk: Discount Doctor Doom.

And that’s Ravage 2099 #1; boy that’s a step down from the last comic. The comic suffers from it dialogue of the characters which would of worked if they were made during the Silver Age or early Bronze Age, but feels out of place during this period in comic books.  The protagonist and antagonist are stupid as the former blindly follows the corrupt company he was working for and the latter is pretty much a cliche Bond villain.  And upon reading this story, it feels out of place in this universe besides the fact Alchemax is involved in the story.  But positives I would give is that unlike all the other comics in this line it’s not a future version of an established hero in the Marvel Universe and I have some fun reading it’s out of place dialogue.

But let this comic be a lesson to us all to never allow Stan Lee come up with new ideas for super heroes!

Besides this whore.

And these F.A.G.s (I’m assuming they’re aliens, have not watch nor read this team).

And this Ahnuld.

And this alternate DC Universe.  Seriously, how the hell this guy still writing even though he is way past his prime?

Next time: Spider-Man 2099 #3.  The thrilling conclusion of the origin story that in hindsight I should have covered first before Ravage 2099 #1.  DAMN YOU CONTINUITY ORDER!

#ravage 2099 #marvel 2099 #marvel #review

[funnythingshere0-blog]

Spike Lee's messy, funny BlacKkKlansman clowns on the dipshit thugs of skinhead America

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Spike Lee's messy, funny BlacKkKlansman clowns on the dipshit thugs of skinhead America

Based, as the opening credits pronounce, on “some fo real, fo real shit,” Spike Lee’s BlacKkKlansman is a riotous mess of contradictions: a true story that seems too outrageous to actually be true, a period piece that’s also a red-alert bulletin on current affairs, a very funny comedy about the very unfunny business of white supremacy. Dramatizing the exploits of a black cop who managed to bullshit his way into the Klu Klux Klan, Lee has, for the first time in forever, tapped right into the turbulent spirit of the cultural moment, making a rat-a-tat zeitgeist entertainment that feels as timely as breaking news. Yet he’s also made his most accessible and narratively satisfying movie in more than a decade, folding his righteous fury into a crowd-pleasing package with the help of producers Jordan Peele and Jason Blum, who lobbed their own charged cherry bomb, Get Out, into the multiplex last year.

Movie Review

B+

Director

Spike Lee

Runtime

135 minutes

Language

English

Cast

John David Washington, Adam Driver, Laura Harrier, Jasper Pääkkönen, Ashlie Atkinson, Topher Grace, Ryan Eggold, Robert John Burke, Paul Walter Hauser, Michael Buscemi

Availability

Theaters everywhere August 10

BlacKkKlansman takes place in 1979, though the time period is never specified on screen, through dialogue or date stamps. It’s a pointed omission, a way for Lee to underline that the America he’s depicting— where white cops harass and murder black citizens, where white supremacists complain of their own supposed social disadvantage, where the ideological tendrils of hate groups extend into the political sphere—looks an awful lot like the America of here and now. Not that we can’t ballpark the year through context clues, like the ostentatious fashion choices, the warm hum of the Motown music cues, and the very 1979 afro sported by Ron Stallworth (John David Washington), the first black officer of the Colorado Springs Police Force, who successfully infiltrated a local arm of the KKK by masquerading as an aggrieved kindred spirit in the white power movement. (His memoir is the basis for the screenplay Lee cowrote with Charlie Wachtel, David Rabinowitz, and Kevin Willmott.)

“I’m fluent in both King’s English and jive,” Stallworth reassures his superiors, and that chameleonesque adaptability—coupled with his slightly nerdy nasal—comes in handy when the rookie cop answers, on a whim, a call for new members, making phone contact with “the organization.” Of course, joining the Klan requires meeting in person, which means that Stallworth needs a white face to go with the voice on the line, a Christian de Neuvillette to his bigot-whispering Cyrano de Bergerac. He finds him in Flip Zimmerman (Adam Driver), a Jewish narcotics officer with his own heritage to conceal from the marks. For months, the two insinuate themselves into the Klan’s ranks—a sting operation that Lee wrings for some suspense, as during a scene of Flip trying to fast-talk his way out of a lie-detector test, but also for plenty of belly laughs.

BlacKkKlansman

Photo: Focus Features

Ron gets close to the Klansmen by presenting himself as a sympathetic ear, flattering their intelligence while exploiting their lack of it; the joke, worthy of a Sacha Baron Cohen bit, is that the broader he gets with his parody of white victimhood, the more the cross-burners buy his act. Right from the jump, Lee gracefully walks the line between acknowledging the horrific history of the KKK and treating the Klansmen themselves as figures of ridicule. No stranger to playing bigoted blowhards, Alec Baldwin appears in the prologue as a right-wing propagandist, flubbing his lines during a bloviating pro-segregation pitch; he’s despicable, but also a moron. Later, when Stallworth’s deception ensnares the Grand Wizard himself, a young David Duke (Topher Grace), Lee is able to show how the Klan adapted to changing times, putting a polite face and a fancy suit on their message of hate. (We’re seeing, in some sense, the first storm clouds of our current political climate.) But the conversations between the two are basically uproarious crank calls on white supremacy itself, in part because Grace plays Duke as a clueless, milquetoast dork.

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Washington, a former running back and a regular on HBO’s Ballers, shares a certain movie-star authority with his famous father, Denzel, who Lee cast as the titular civil rights icon of his last biopic, Malcolm X. But he has a quieter charisma, appropriate for a character constantly modulating his energy for different crowds. Most undercover cop movies are, in one way or another, about identity. The Departed, for example, turned its dueling-mole premise into a statement about class, about faking your way up or down the social ladder to fit in. BlacKkKlansman treats the espionage games of Stallworth’s scheme as a metaphor for the different masks he has to wear as a black man in America—how he plays a part not just for the KKK but also for his colleagues at the station, some of whom are only a pointy hood away from being unofficial Klansmen themselves. Lee, riffing on the tensions of white cop/black cop buddy comedies, recognizes the imbalance in the central relationship: “You’ve been passing as a WASP,” Ron reminds Flip, who can generally afford to ignore the intolerance he’s gone undercover to combat. (For whatever else it’s about, BlacKkKlansman exhibits an unexpected interest in Jewish American identity.)

There’s even an element of subterfuge to the film’s romantic subplot, as Ron hides his badge from Patrice (Spider-Man: Homecoming’s Laura Harrier), the college activist he meets while undercover at a black-student-union meeting. Lee, never afraid to stop his movie cold for some Greek chorusing, stages a fiery speech by one-time Black Panther Kwame Ture (Corey Hawkins) as a moment of political awakening: faces, isolated in close-up against a black backdrop, stirred by his call to action. But BlacKkKlansman is never cut-and-dried in its dialogue; it uses the lively, nuanced discussions between Ron and Patrice to ask big questions (“It’s a racist system,” she insists when he suggests that maybe black cops can make change from the inside), as well as to commune with the imagery and attitude of the era’s blaxploitation classics. Lee, as usual, has overstuffed his joint with ideas, genres, tones, and jukebox ear candy.

BlacKkKlansman

Photo: Focus Features

BlacKkKlansman isn’t, it must be said, among his absolute best. It lacks the sweltering power of Do The Right Thing, another state-of-the-divided-nation address delivered during the dog days of summer, or the sheer baptizing outrage of Bamboozled, one of the most caustically truthful (and underrated) films ever made about how deeply racism has burrowed under the skin of American culture. The storytelling can be uneven, especially in the final stretch, when Lee seems to run into the limitations of his real-life material. (No amount of wailing Terence Blanchard guitar can stop the climax from feeling, well, anti-climactic.) And there are times when the writer-director gets too on the nose with the already exceptionally apparent contemporary echoes, playing on MAGA and cracking a wink-wink gag about the country never being stupid enough to elect someone like David Duke to the presidency. Yet BlacKkKlansman, for all its indulgent… Spikiness, is held together by the force of Lee’s messaging. He’s the polemicist as insult comic, wedging truths between each karate chop to the (skin)head of racist America.

What this film understands is cinema’s capacity to speak to a mass audience, sympathetic to ideas and hungry for inspiration. It opens with a clip from Gone With The Wind, still the biggest hit of all time if you adjust for inflation, and a movie that continues to propagate a romantically distorted image of the slave-holding South. Later, it finds room for a scene of the Klansmen hooting and hollering through a screening of Birth Of A Nation, that monstrously racist proto-blockbuster, which helped revive the KKK and which—as Lee reminds us—President Woodrow Wilson reportedly described as “history written with lightning.” With BlacKkKlansman, Lee cooks up the counter-programming, his own brand of popcorn agitprop: brisk, fun, as aspirationally (and crucially) mainstream as the milestone movies it excerpts. He’s bottled plenty of his own lightning. And his penmanship hasn’t been this clear in ages.

Source: https://film.avclub.com/spike-lee-s-messy-funny-blackkklansman-clowns-on-the-d-1828208276