#Is it literally him and John? Geez. What's wrong with me-!? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belokhvostikova · 2 months

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𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | 1989, and Eddie Munson has branded himself the playboy of Indianapolis... particularly to your best friend, Winnie Ambrose. Finally sick of being manipulated by his eight inch cock, Winnie looks to you to take down the man. It was simple: make him fall in love, and break his heart. Only, is it ever really simple?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, arguments, mentions of alcohol/ alcohol consumption, some rude friends, mentions of insecurities, a lot of disrespect and gross behavior (fuckboy-ary), I don't know how to tag this, but Eddie literally runs into traffic, not in a "I wanna die" type of way, but... you'll see, and explicit sexual content: mentions of sex toys, fondling, mentions of sex, and oral (male receiving).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Prepared to be grossed out, you're not like other girls. Also, I need y'all to seriously envision Cher and Dionne making over Tai from Clueless in one particular scene in this... just a lil more chaotic, por favor. Also, Reader over here is making latte art! I don't drink coffee, so it's probably wrong, but that's not on me (it is). Oh, and some John Tucker Must Die/ The Notebook references!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10.7K

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬, 𝐀-𝐍-𝐎-𝐍-𝐘-𝐌-𝐎-𝐔-𝐒

It didn’t match. For the fifth time in a row, the piece didn't match.

You huffed, flinging the illustrated paperboard piece to the once organized pile of others alike, as your back felt the relief of falling against the fluff of your carpet. Stupid puzzle. The clock breached 11:07 P.M, and as promised, something bad was bound to happen for your lack of completion by midnight.

Why you set yourself up for failure, you don’t know. But the premise of speaking potential consequences into the universe seemed to be your only motivation in life at the moment. And it, too, was a fun game. One that had your back aching against the four hours of stationary sitting on your floor, as your fingers cramped to piece together one thousand segments of the world map. Though, at this given moment, you were losing hope in Africa ever gaining its southern countries, and Asia was a lost cause.

Your eyes twirled to the low oscillation of your ceiling fan. What if it just fell? At least it’d give you a moment of excitement. Something to finally say when thirty pairs of eyes would scrutinize you during the horrific experience of ice-breakers, before the mortifying revelation would dawn upon you that you really were just… boring.

Your fingers dug into the sockets of your eyes. One harsh sufficient rub was enough to cut whatever impeding yawn short. You still had fifty-three minutes, and if the past twenty-one years of good deeds meant anything, maybe the universe would lighten up and spare you of any reprimand for the non fulfillment of puzzle promises.

Your head turned. Hey, what do you know, there was Yugoslavia under your bed all along-

“C’mon, c’mon, don’t got all day.” Your hair scrunched under the swift turn of your head, as you listened to the blatant disregard of respect, hearing your front door slam into shuttering vibrations.

A scoff. An all too familiar scoff. “Geez, Eddie, way to a get a girl goin’.” Winnie Ambrose.

Your face contorted in despair, with quiet gruffs of whines softly pleading to yourself. “Please go to the bedroom, please go to the bedroom, pl-”

“Just do it right here, seriously, got no time, baby.” Oh, no. Suddenly, you were slapping yourself silly for the stupid mistake of not investing in headphones. And as much as you could try to muster, the completion of Angola would not be satisfactory enough to distract from the lewd noises that defiled your living room couch. “Yeah, yeah, put it in your mouth, go on, finally shut you up.”

Your endeavors prompted you to the cushioning of your bed, where you found the will to rather die of asphyxiation under the thickness of your pillows, than listen to the onslaught of moans that were about to proceed the thinness of your apartment walls. Four hundred thirty-seven a month to have your ears violated by the uncomfortable noises of your best friend and her weekly endeavors.

His voice hummed faintly. “Mm, yeah, just like you fucking know how to do it.” A month of cohabitation with Winnie Ambrose brought you the glorious gift of Eddie Munson, an enigma. There was never a face painted to the stumper that was Eddie Munson, but the details alone left your mind spiraling to the paradox of a man that infested your friend’s life.

“Like that?”

“Sh, sh, no talking, just suck.” Your face scowled.

Should the night go as it always does, Winnie would have her rendezvous, his heavy footsteps would proceed with a quick leave, her shouting voice of insults would follow before the slam of the front door silenced her, and her tears of complaints would flow down your shoulder.

For a man like that, you had viable reason to believe he’d never step foot back into your apartment, and yet, every week proved you wrong. Her constant, “god, I could just kill him, do you know how much of an asshole he is?!” would presumably follow up with an, “okay, I know what you’re thinking, don’t give me that look, it’s just this one time!”

It never was just one time.

Eddie Munson had the chokehold of a python on Winnie Ambrose… and apparently a third of Indianapolis’ female population. Though, where you could criticize her for her poor choices, you could also applaud her in the fact that she even had a choice to begin with. Her Friday nights were actually spent living her youth with the liveliness of freedom, whilst you were evidently stuck being “piece” maker for the United Nations.

No guy was ever making you a choice.

But you know, it’s not like you couldn’t be a choice. Yeah, you totally could be. You just… you know, had to put yourself out there more. You weren’t totally invisible. People acknowledge you, like in high school! There was always a polite ‘m’sorry’ to come whenever shoulders were knocked in the crowdedness of halls. Granted, it’s not like any of those people ever knew your name. That notion was really cemented when watching teachers wrack their brains on the potential name you owned after seeing your hand raised, settling on that ‘miss’ that followed you around for four years. But you were totally there. Otherwise they would have never called on you. Then again, it’s not like anyone else in class ever raised their hand.

There. Perceived. Maybe even acknowledged. Just not known.

Just anonymous.

But maybe things worked best as such. Safe, at least. You’d been safe ever since you were seen. Actually seen. Seen by him. Or, you thought he saw you. Your eyes scrunched at memories that felt too vivid for the years it had been since they transpired in reality. But as quick as your eyes were to close, they shot open against the abrasive clash of glass splattering against the floor. “Winnie.”

Your legs worked before your brain, jostling you out of the comfort of your bed to swing your bedroom door open to the expanse of your living room. “God, you are such a pig!” Couch pillows of ammunition went flying into the arms of the figure before you, his back turned to you to catch the onslaught of fluffy attacks. “You’re just a no, good, lying scumbag! Ugh!” Hurling over his shoulder, you ducked to avoid the incoming stuffed bullet.

His boots crunched against shattered glass. “Christ, you’re fucking crazy, would you fucking relax?!” His smirk—unbeknownst to you—only spawned that thumping vein in Winnie’s forehead to accentuate; a sick pride in being able to elicit this reaction from her. “Call me all the fucking names you want, you were still desperate enough to suck me off.”

“AH! GET OUT!” Her still-heeled feet stomped to shove him back. Nothing but his sinister laughter echoed against the clash of her vocal frustrations, as he let her ardent pushes barely sway him from his stance. “You piece of shit!” Having gotten everything he needed for the night, Eddie took to her persistent shoves, and turned on his heels. All energy lost for his time. “GO!” In a split second, his eyes caught yours, and the sight of his face hit you like a ton of bricks. That was Eddie Munson. Nothing but confusion lingered upon your face, as the tense air became tainted by the complaints of Winnie. “I’m never calling you again, you dickhead! Get out!” His legs, for once, stumbled to her strength, and you watched his eyes fall to the length of your body, before the slam of your front door vanished his existence.

Winnie huffed. Her back straightened against the door handle, breath regulating, throat clearing, and hands pushing away unruly hair.

You stared in awe. “What the hell was that?” You implored.

“That asshole is to never step foot into this apartment again.” Wide eyed crazy, her finger came pointing at you. “I mean it, Y/N, if I so much as speak his name, you need to slap me straight.”

“Okay, but do you wanna explain what the hell happened, why our vase is shattered on the ground?! Winnie, our vase! My vase!” Thirty-seven bucks wasted on that antique shop. So gaudy, yet so beautiful. Tragic.

Your face frowned. “That asshole happened!” Winnie groaned, raking harsh fingers through the length of her auburn extensions. “God, I’m over here giving him the best head of his life,” your face scrunched in disgust, “and that asshole has the nerve to forget my name. My name?!”

Your shoulders deflated under the pretense of a disappointed parent. “So, what?! You took it out on my vase?! Win, come on, you’ve been saying the worst thing about this guy for a month, what were you expecting?”

“Y/N, for the love of God, I bumped into it.” She deadpanned. “And you know what, I ask myself the same damn thing, god, I’m so stupid!” She plopped onto the couch. “That bastard knows exactly what he’s doing,” an incredulous laugh rips through her throat, “sweet-talking girls, getting in their pants, only to stutter out some bullshit name that isn't yours- god, Y/N, he called Therese!” She gagged. “That bitch who works on 4th Avenue East, he’s fucking her, too!”

So sullen. “My vase.”

“He’s not getting away with this.” Winnie stood on sore feet and knees, a stern finger directed at you, as if you suddenly became the perpetrator. “Something, c’mon, I gotta think of something to get that piece of shit back.”

“How ‘bout stop speaking to him?”

“No!” Her whines viciously penetrated your ears. “I have to make him suffer! God, for all the shit he puts us girls through, he has to pay!” You watched her face cinch with perplexity to the ideas her mind was too tipsy to conjure. The advice of letting it go was burning at the tip of your tongue, but too hard-headed to accept, you knew your words would be dismissed for a punishment up to par to Winnie Ambrose’s standards. “Ugh, I’ll think of something later.” She gave up. “But right now, I’ve gotta make an order.”

Her ankles turned with the thickness of heels, and you watched her stomp off into the direction of her bedroom. “Order what?”

“A vibrator. I’m done with men.” Liberation.

You sighed. “My vase.”

“Um… hm, um…”

Your eyes discreetly rolled, an impatient finger repeatedly tapping the end of your pen; a click for how close your sanity was thinning. “Sir, I can come back whenever you’re re-”

“Just a moment, um…”

Your back straightened with frustration. The sheets of your notepad wrinkled under the humid perspiration of your hands, as your entertainment was now left with nothing more than to mindlessly wander your gaze about, as the customer before you took waitstaff a little too seriously for your liking. On cue, the alerting bell of the front entrance piqued your interest, where your eyes widened at the sight of his familiar silhouette, and suddenly the elderly customer taking his sweet time became more of a priority.

“How ‘bout a cappuccino? Cappuccino sound good? Great! I'll grab that cappuccino for you!” Rushing behind the counter, you discreetly watched him take his usual place. Back corner, by the window. Eddie Munson’s chair- or what was formerly known: cute guy with the long hair’s chair.

“I-”

But, now, the events of last night had tainted the little crush that became your only source of motivation to show up to work every day to serve rude people, who didn’t have the skill set of self control to manage their crankiness before their morning cup of coffee.

Suddenly, everything clicked.

From the first moment you saw him, your eyes lingered on the strut of confidence that defined his nature; dark and mysterious, claiming his chair with a notebook that never left his hand. You never would have expected “your” guy to actually have been Winnie’s guy, and apparently the majority of other women’s guy. You should have seen it sooner. When one day, a frown etched upon your face seeing your crush waltz in with a girl in hand, presumably a girlfriend. But when said girl never accompanied him again, that smile was right back on your face.

Until the cycle continued. Repeatedly. Numerously.

And yeah, maybe the obvious signs of Eddie Munson being the biggest player was slapping you right in the face, but nothing could touch that idealized fantasy you’d like to curate. What the hell else was supposed to make the hours go by? It’s not like it was anything serious. Just a crush. Like Timmy Plyth in the eighth grade, after lending you a much needed pencil. God forbid someone was nice to you, you’d plan out both your futures together. Delusional sure, but the sincerity of it all was never a foundation. Suddenly, watching Timmy Plyth overly use the word ‘bro’ was enough to have your insides cringing, and quickly, he was nothing.

Eddie Munson was nothing.

So, it was effortless for you to easily chalk up the array of beautiful women by his side as second cousins coming to visit, though, the flirtatious way he’d play with their hair was surely too gross; perhaps an innocent friend looking for a catch up, then again, there was nothing innocent about the way his lips would glue to hers; or hell, maybe a first date gone bad, because he couldn’t keep his eyes away from the waitress that took his breath away, though Eddie Munson had never once actually looked at you.

Until, he did.

Tuesday, three weeks ago, had been a particularly gloomy evening, with regulars skipping their usuals to avoid the downpour of dark clouds over city skylines. Quiet and peaceful, the coffeehouse hummed with the white noises of pages turning from worn books and lips sipping upon the enriching black warmth that filled colorful mugs. Like clockwork, his boots squelched with wetness, a leather jacket clinking against metal, water droplets that refused to soak up the material, and his notebook in hand.

Though, this time alone.

Taking his designated seat in the back, you located your coworker who adorned that customer service smile, as she busied herself elsewhere. Your nervous hands rubbed against your waist apron, as you quietly approached him.

The scrape of his pencil against the pages tickled your ear, as his scent collided with the deep coffee beans and baked goods that surrounded you. Bats. Scribbled and sketched against the great expanse of drawings that tied to the plethora of words that creatively polluted the once blank canvas.

“Those, uh, those are nice drawings.”

His head spun to yours, and your soft smile allowed a matching one to invade his face. “Uh, thanks… yeah, thanks, they’re not really, y’know, anything special.” At the time, your innocent heart pattered at his obvious gaze that lingered too intently to be ever “just friendly,” though now, your stomach turned at the realization that something more impure was causing those dimples to flaunt. A smile so devilish it sickly resembled his… Dalto- “But, uh, means a lot coming from you.” Barf. You should have told him to fuck off, now knowing what you know.

But your lovesick mind shyly giggled and flushed your cheeks with heat. “Just because you don’t think they’re special doesn’t mean they aren’t great. Seriously, they are. A-And why does it mean a lot coming from me?” Your brow pointed.

“Nice people give out genuine compliments.” His shoulders shrugged like it was simple. “See you given’ that lady and her baby free food all the time, no? That’s you.”

He has seen you. “Oh, yeah, Margaret, she’s, um, super sweet, lives in my building. Times are just a little hard for her s’all, so I don’t mind having a couple sandwiches taken out of paycheck for her.”

“Yeah, see, nice. You wouldn’t lie to me.” Eddie stated factually, face hardened, no longer brandishing whatever smirk he played to swoon his next hookup.

Such stoicism left you confused in the wake of a brief ten second quietness. Perhaps you had misread that first interaction, and he had no interest in pursuing you. Wouldn’t be the first time. Sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. “Um, so, w-what would you like to order, sorry?”

“Just a latte will do if that’s fine.” He gave a light smile your way, as your head nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, yeah, of course, I’ll have that right out for you, sir.” Your feet moved with no thought, mentally cursing yourself for the embarrassment of referring to him as an older man. And you heard those airy chuckles of amusement huff through his nose, dissipating in the wind, as you made your escape. But you’d become oblivious to the round eyes that softly stuck to your swaying body, adorned in the combination of rain boots and skirt that had his fingers painting the pages of his notebook with a particular figure in rain boots and skirt.

Steamed milk had an interesting way of gluing the fabric of your shirt to your skin with the humidity that matched that of the sticky drizzle outside. Like watercolors, the cedar espresso collided with pearl milk, and with a quick glance to your left, his broadened back met you, as his arm flexed to the rhythm of his drawing.

Creamy foam met the tawny caffeine, and your barista skills concocted a small bat to ripple into his latte. Sufficed with your art, you gently maneuvered your way to his direction, where the delicate clicks of your small pumps informed your arrival.

But before Eddie could muster out any form of conversation, you dropped off your service with a polite, “enjoy your drink,” to save you from the inevitable embarrassment your mouth would spew.

But as you looked back, you watched the phlegmatic corners of his lips turn to a genuine smile at the sight of your curated artwork… for him.

“Seeing Miss Long Legs now, huh?”

The bustling cacophony of the crowded coffeehouse snapped you back to reality. “Huh?” You looked at your coworker.

Your eyes caught sight of the wedges that announced themselves to the tall woman, so modelesque, with a sundress that complimented her complexion. “Save yourself the trouble, and don’t involve yourself with that man.” Maude, grabbing a lemon-raspberry muffin for the man across the counter, grumbled under her breath.

“What? Oh, no, I’m not, like- I was just zoning out, sorry.” You resumed your position to formulate an unwanted cappuccino, as your eyes slyly peered to the intimate greeting Eddie shared with the beautiful woman.

“Right, well, still, sooner or later, that man is gonna swoon you over whenever you get the chance to wait on him, and it’s gonna be really tempting to say yes, but you better say no.” Your brows furrowed. Eddie Munson hadn’t explicitly made a move on you. Were you really that unappealing that even he didn’t want you? God, how pathetic were you to stoop that low? “It’s what he does. Works you up, get you all flustered, takes you out on some cheap date, but makes up for it with the love bombing, and before you know it, he’s got you right where he wants you: his bed.” Her gum smacked to the intensity of her accent.

“Yeah, uh, I bet. My roommate, she, uh, kinda had a thing with him.” You grimaced.

Maude laughed, her gold jewelry jingling to the waves of her expression. “Oh, no, honey, Eddie Munson doesn’t do “things.” That’s what he makes you believe, but soon you realize he never actually had feelings for you.”

Your stomach plummeted at her words, an overwhelming sense of discomfort suddenly hitting. Memories. Bad ones. You sucked in a heavy breath, and attempted to blink away the negative pictures that began infesting your mind. “Oh. Um, how do you know?”

You worriedly watched her face contort into anguish. “Oh, y’know-” her voice cracked, tears brimming her eyes, “just heard around.” The muffin became mush in her hand, as she ran into the back. The awaiting customer blankly stared at you.

Eddie Munson was Dalton Barron.

And you wouldn’t go down that road again.

Blisters had been bubbling on your feet. Seven hours and thirty minutes of standing left you contrite on this morning’s choice of attempting to be stylish by breaking in your new flats—all too cute not to be worn. Coffee had stunk itself into your hair, and you were verging on the brink of tears after a shift of being yelled at, after the inevitable occurred when you misheard a customer's eight step instruction to their frappe. And to make matters worse, your key was taking too long to slot into the doorknob.

But the clashing of brassy metals that clung from your keychain announced themselves before you could, alerting your very own kidnapper to haul you into your apartment, with a purity ring—for the sake of her—that dug into the skin of your arm. “I got it!”

You swore your wrist popped with the pull Winnie had on you, as she dragged you into the space of her bedroom. “Got what- wait, if it’s this new vibrator you were talking about, I don’t wanna-”

“No, it’s not a vibrator!” You dropped with a bounce on her bed, as her hands shoved themselves upon your shoulder. “That doesn’t come till Wednesday.” She collected herself straight. “Anyways, I got it, I got my revenge plan! You know, for Eddie?”

Your fingers pushed themselves into your temple, as your eyes felt too heavy for this conversation. “Oh, Winnie…”

“I’m serious, Y/N, I’ve got the perfect plan!”

“You know, he actually came by the coffeehouse, met up with this really pretty girl-”

“Ugh, what a slut.” Winnie grumbled with disgust, a deeply offensive eye roll to pair, as well. “God, I swear, that penis is going to fall right off, and then he’ll truly be left with nothing.” She sighed, fluffing her hair from her face. “But back to business, Y/N, I… am going to ruin his manhood.”

You dryly blinked. “...By making his penis fall off…?”

“No!” Her petulant mewl came with a frustrated stomp that made your giggle. “By making him fall in love!” That look never left your face, in fact, worsened to the oddity of her scheme. “Stop looking at me like that, I’m serious! We have to make him fall in love!”

You incredulously chortled. “I thought the whole Eddie Munson thing was not falling in love? And wait a minute, you promised not to speak to him anymore, I don’t want to have to slap you, Winnie.”

“I’m not going to do it, you are!”

You promptly stood from the bed, matching her height with an urgency in your eye that challenged her crazy ones. “I am not talking to Eddie Munson, are you insane?!”

“No, but you have to!” Winnie desperate beseeched. “Y/N, c’mon, do this for me! Just hear me out, okay? You don’t actually have to, like, y’know, date him. Just lead him on! It’s that ego of his, we have to crush his ego!”

“Winnie,” you sighed, “Eddie wouldn’t even go for me-”

“Of course, he would! You’re hot shit!” Your face dropped entirely unconvinced. “And Eddie’s totally going to see that when you go to his gig tonight.”

“I’m not going to anyone’s gig tonight!”

“Hold on, wait! Before you say no…” Winnie stopped your incoming decline with a cold finger hoisted to your lips to hush your words, before she childishly scampered her way into the closet. Rummaging through the mountain of clothes she was adamant to hang up yesterday, her hands finally grappled onto her last hope. “Okay, ready? Ta-da!”

So sensationally lurid, with yellows, greens, and purples that didn’t match not one bit. So tacky it was beautiful. Your hands grabbed for it. “My vase!”

“Ah- no!” So offended, your mouth dropped, as Winnie denied you the right to receive your child. “You can only get this,” waving the delicacy around to taunt you, “if you agree to go to the gig tonight.”

You scoffed. Well played. “T-That is, like, literal coercion.”

“C’mon, look, Eddie’s got a big thing with pride, okay? I highly doubt that man’s ever seen rejection in life, so, when he expects all the girls to be flaunting themselves at him, he’ll see that everyone is except you.” Winnie was beginning to get that crazy look in her eyes. “Eddie’s gonna want what he can’t have, so, he’ll automatically go for you! But you, Y/N, you’re stronger than I am, and you are going to turn him down in every which way, only giving a little and taking away, until he is some desperate, little puppy following you around. And then, he’ll finally, FINALLY understand what it's like. Asshole…”

Winnie puffed her chest, catching her breath, as her hands fervently clutched to your vase. You could see it in her face how desperate she was just to have him hurt, even if it was just a little bit. Just to feel what she and many other girls did, because of him. You sighed. “Winnie, he’s not going to look at me.”

Without a word, she shoved the vase into your hands, before marching into her closet once more, where hangers scraped against the rack, as Winnie aggressively shuffled through the array of clothes she possessed. Retrieved was a dress of angelic white satin and lace that cascaded just enough to save you from a public indecency charge. “Not if you wear this!” She beamed.

Beauty is pain came with such candor.

“God, Winnie, he’s not seeing my underwear, why do I have to wear these?” So tight and lodged in the crevices of your lady parts, disturbing you to no avail. “It’s about feeling sexy! If you feel sexy, you’ll exude sexy!” The next travesty to come came in the form of said dress, by a sadistic designer who found much gratification in the torture of stomachs through the depths of lustrous material hell. With a corset to secure, Winnie was hoisting the attached strings into oblivion.

“C’mon, just suck in for me!” Her grip tightened around the lacing. “My lungs are going to explode if I suck in anymore!” You’d never felt your body more accentuated, with your boobs practically grazing your chin with how much Winnie was able to lift them with the right bra and a bruised rib cage.

And before you knew it, a suffocated squeal was burrowed out of your throat, when Winnie pushed your stiff body onto the softness of her bed. “Shoes, shoes, shoes! You need the perfect shoes!” Suddenly, strappy platforms of six inches were being shoved on your newly painted toes. “Hey, wait, slow down, Win, I’m gonna break an ankle, I don’t do anything over three inches.” But clasps were being secured around your ankles before your protest could be of any success. Winnie snorted. “Well, maybe that’s why you’re so uptight.” Your jaw dropped.

On the outskirts of Alcona Drive, under city lights and bustling traffic, a tattoo parlor sits next to a bar of proverbial rock and metal. Corroded Coffin play here every Saturday night. You were here Saturday night.

You clung to Winnie’s arm like a child, maneuvering through the sea of people who found vacancy in the open air parking lot for intermission breaks. With rough asphalt embedding itself to the outsoles of your heels, Winnie became your only support after bubbling anxiety worsened the wobble that an additional six inches to your height had had on you.

Had you been calm, you would have accepted the gentle zephyr of the night that now suddenly felt as though it was biting at your skin with the uneasiness of your tummy. As a compromise, Winnie, at least, gave you the grace of sporting a leather jacket to hide behind.

“Okay, just remember,” I.Ds flashed to the bouncer, “be cool and collected. Eddie’s not going to approach you if you’re fawning over him.”

“I’m not going to fawn over him.” Your body flinched at the rattle of conversations that mushed into deafening discordance that blared into your ear. Strobes of stage lights blew up your pupils, as you observed the Saturday night lives of people who found hedonistic liberation through buzzing music and weightless drinks.

Had your heart not sank to your ass, you would have understood why Winnie Ambrose loved going here.

But for you, your nails were sinking into the skin of Winnie’s arm, but she would endure the bitter sting, as long as it would appease your silent suffering. She was, in fact, the reason you were dragged here.

“Look, we’ll do a lap before we settle.” Winnie screamed into your ear.

Before you could question her motives, a drunken screech interrupted your train of thoughts. “Winnie!” You’d forgotten she had friends outside of you.

Your legs jostled at the strength of Winnie’s pull, hauling you to a group of strangers whose overpowering perfumes skirmished with the breaths of cocktails that lingered in their vicinity. Squeals of greetings were exchanged, as you timidly stepped back, watching what an actual social interaction was between people who had real lives.

“This is,” her jewelry-ridden hand clasped to your wrist, “this is Y/N!” Small smiles with the company of tiny waves and head nods was all that was proffered to you, and you wondered if Terry Werner’s unsolicited words of you being “standoffish” as the reason as to why you sat alone in the middle school cafeteria were actually true. Then again, you couldn’t fault Winnie’s friends for how quickly they turned away from you, when you stood with nothing but a precautious stare with lips so tightly inward. “Y/N, this is Janet! Janet’s dating Walker! This is Walker’s sister, Karey! Karey’s dating Danaisha! This is Peneolope! Oh, that’s Jaiden- uh, Jaiden’s roommates with Sebastian! And my friend Carly!” Abruptly, Winnie’s warm breath was fanning against your ear. “And Janet is secretly hooking up with Seb, so don’t say anything, because he’s also doing it with Pen, who quite literally just had a threeway with Jaiden and another girl, who happened to Danaisha’s ex, who she claims not to be hung up on, yet still frequently talks to behind Karey’s back, so...” God, is this what adulthood was?!

Perhaps you were the wrong person to tell, as a series of confused looks were thrown your way when your freshly plucked eyebrows—upon Winnie’s request—severely sold your face away to the unnerving settlement you earned from the incestuous ties that happen to hold this group together.

But their judgements didn’t hold for too long, as Winnie’s dramatic recollection of the past week left her friends violently ignoring your presence.

At an attempt to wave off the awkwardness you were certain people could feel, you faintly bobbed your head to the music that lowly vibrated from the speakers; an appeasement to bar goers who drunkenly waited for the performance intermission to pass.

Your eyes darted, jumping from corner to corner, swiftly locking eyes with strangers who maneuvered every which way. Your teeth began to anxiously gnaw into your glossed lips, as deep unsettlement bubbled in your belly at the realization your eyes were searching for a specific face, one’s who you truly had no business festering upon.

Winnie Ambrose was completely out of her mind if she even thought for a second Eddie Munson would fall for this.

This wasn’t self-deprecation. This was utter reality.

Heels of different heights, all styled to the zeitgeist of the blooming 90s, complimented the women of the bar so beautifully. So many kinds of smiles brightened the dimly lit setting, with colors brandishing their lips from enticing, deep plums to the beauty of a natural hue. With an array of bodies on display just for him, Eddie Munson wouldn’t even fathom the idea of you.

A guitar riff ripped through the dense air.

Drenched in the center spotlight, the blinding shine illuminated that signature smile that etched itself onto his face upon seeing the crowd flock to his feet. So below him. “Hope y’all had enough time to rest,” his voice buzzed, amplified into your ears, as his lips kissed the mic, “‘cause we’re about to put you through the fucking wringer!”

You watched Winnie roll her eyes in your peripheral, too accustomed with the aggression of cockiness that seemed to have every woman hollering at his command. Eyes scowling, lip twitching, and a hand searing its print onto your wrist, it became quite obvious that even the presence of Eddie Munson brought her anger.

Wrath, even.

There was no talking Winnie Ambrose out of this. She had a plan. And it was cemented.

Winnie Ambrose was taking Eddie Munson down.

And you were complicit.

His voice, so deep with husk it had beautiful women practically throwing themselves for his attention, caused a ripple of goosebumps to invade your skin. Something about Eddie Munson had caused a leach of perturbation to suck the life out of you. So dark, his eyes silently sang to the ladies below him, as nothing became more alluring than the sinister blackness that specialized each girl with eye contact so intimidating. If only they knew it meant absolutely nothing.

Every gaze. Every smirk. Every touch. Every lyric dedicated to the busty blonde with curly hair, or the sun-kissed beauty with a look so delicate.

It all meant absolutely nothing.

And Eddie Munson loved it.

Reveling in the control he had, nothing but a smile and wink to get whatever he wanted out of a desperate girl who urged him to make her feel good. And he did. Never a moment passes, where Eddie didn’t have a lady crying in rapture of his orgasmic touch. No matter the mind, no matter the body, Eddie Munson had a truly remarkable talent to blank the conscious of any thought, washing a woman’s worries away with his fingers, tongue, and cock, as his filthy voice kissed their ears with the sweet nothings that had them believing they were one of a kind.

But it was nothing but a ruse.

And they’d come to find that, as the once pleads to make them feel good, left them with tears staining the makeup he ruined. No one ever talks about the detriment of having your body used. Furthermore, no one talks about the utter humiliation of running back to the man that did so.

Nothing but a lousy phone call or run in at the club was enough to have you reeled back into his loving arms that were only loving for forty minutes, before they rejected you like you were nothing. And he affirmed it with a smile so sickening, as he watched the torment twist their face in disgust at his actions.

But not that it mattered, they’d be crawling right back at the snap of his fingers.

With a sudden yank, your heels were clicking to catch up with Winnie’s steps. “Hey, wait, what are you- what are you doing?!” Your voice barely became audible under the thunder of Corroded Coffin’s thrashing.

“C’mon, just follow my lead!” Was all she gave you to work with, before her aggressive hands were shoving strangers out of the way, until you made it into the front sea of men and women who handbanged their body to the clash of the music.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to make his usual way around the stage edge, where those desperately interested flaunted what they had to offer; breasts pooling from the hazard that was an overtly low-cut top—much to Eddie’s liking—or tongues hungrily circling their lips to potentially entice the metalhead for quickie.

And then there was you: stood gracelessly behind the stature of your friend, as you gawked at the foreignness of a Saturday night out.

It became inevitable when Eddie’s gaze fell upon Winnie, who you actually had to give props to, as she stood her ground with an ardent cross of her arms over her chest. A mocking wink was thrown against her scowl, but Winnie quickly graced him with a tight-lipped smile, as you watched with confusion. Her fingers waved in his direction, as his egotistical smirk grew wider.

Winnie Ambrose was a genius.

Flaunting a smile that had Eddie believing he was right back on her good side for another fuck. Eddie’s gonna want what he can’t have… having Winnie left you.

His eyes fell upon your figure, as his lips continued to serenade into the mic. “Walk away.” Winnie gritted next to you.

“What?” Your brows furrowed, unbeknownst to you, a look Eddie hadn’t expected.

“Just walk away. Now.”

Not wanting to be on the receiving end of Winnie’s wrath, your legs stumbled back until you found your footing, and left the crowd, as you strutted back to the bathrooms. Because what you failed to notice was Eddie Munson had glued his eyes to your disinterest, stuck to your descending silhouette, as his voice lowly sung to the women who screamed for him.

But all he saw was you.

The buzzing light fixture of a limeade yellow made it nearly impossible for the women of the bar’s bathroom to adequately reapply their makeup. You stood back, watching the delicate precision of lipstick to lips, tissue to eyeliner, and fingertips to skin.

So effortlessly pretty, you took your turn at the crowded mirrors, and followed the movements of every other girl to fix up your look. You quite liked the black liner that ran the perimeter of your eyes that Winnie had applied. She paired it so nicely with a shimmer that didn’t intimidate you, and, in fact, blossomed your eyes to a vivid awakeness.

But the perspired air had blinked your makeup to a light smear.

“Need some tissue?”

“What?”

Her cheeks plumped with a smile on her face. “Tissue? Don’t use the ones here.” Her head pointed to the brown tear of paper that lingered in the dispenser. “It’s rough, and it’ll probably cause you to contract herpes.” She joked, as her hand reached to extend you a sheet of soft tissue that came from its designated travel case from her purse.

“Thank you.” You gently smiled, as your finger cleared your eye of the blackened stain that darkened your undereyes.

“Girls night out or you bankin’ on seeing someone?” The rich brown lined her ample lips.

“Oh, uh, I guess both… kinda.” You meekly answered, as the tainted tissue disposed itself in the overflowing bin.

“Same, girl.” Her finger of a deep burgundy acrylic smoothed out the creaminess of her lip liner. “Desperately need to feel somethin’ tonight. See, after my ex, ugh, it’s been a dry spell. Tried that whole celibacy thing, but, nuh-uh, not for me, lemme tell you, it is not for the weak, y’know?”

Perhaps you were God’s strongest soldier then.

You dryly blinked a lie. “Y-Yeah, totally know… wh-what, uh, you mean.” You softly chuckled.

“God, and that front man up there with his little guitar.”

Your brows jumped into the creases of your forehead, as you blankly stared at her. “E-Eddie?”

“Yeah, you know him?” Her lips smacked the thick gloss with a pop.

“Uh, no, n-no, not really. Just, um, you know, heard of him, I guess.” You shrugged, as you eyed yourself in the murky mirror, fingers prodding at your face, as an excuse not to look at her.

“Oh, yeah.” She giggled, face coming up close to her reflection. “Everyone and their mother has ‘round here. But honestly, with a guy like that you just need’a put a leash on him, y’know? Eddie needs someone who’s not gonna put up with his bullshit, and when he sees that’s me, all these other girls will see they were never the one. And I plan on making him mine.”

You were royally fucked.

The tension—whether made up in your head or actually there—had fortunately been broken by Winnie bustling into the bathroom. “Ah! Did you see how well that worked?! Well, actually, you didn't, you were walking away, but it totally did!”

“Ha ha, okay, um, why don’t we head out, yeah?” You directed her to the bathroom door, not before flashing the beautiful girl a small smile, as she winked you goodbye. You were met with the generic music that was once blaring upon your first entrance, as you took notice of the now empty stage that left people to mingle around the bar. “Okay, what? What are you-”

“Eddie! He totally checked you out when you left! I told you this would work!” She geeked with the surprising ability to joyfully jump in five inch stilettos. “God, I wish you could have seen his face, Y/N, he was totally like ‘huh?’” You laughed at her over exaggerated facial expression. “He so wants you now.”

Winnie began guiding you back to the table of her friends. “See, um, Winnie, I think we may have run into a little problem. You know that girl in the bathroom, she’s totally gunning for-”

“Aye, your back!” Karey’s voice rang into a cheerful greeting… until her eyes landed upon you. “Oh, you, too.”

Oh. Leave it to you to be deduced to an oh.

Winnie dragged an obnoxiously loud chair—that didn’t help your attempt to potentially win her friends over—to the unwelcoming table, and patted you down. “Duh, of course, she’s here, she’s with me.” Winnie smiled a smile that did little to appease that burdening feeling that resided within you, though, you knew she was trying.

As the table fell into a conversation of inside jokes and personal stories that you had no clue about, and you found your eyes whisking away to the rowdiness around you. Had you actually caught the eyes of Eddie Munson, or had Winnie just been flattering you? Bless her, you know she feels a lot, but three years of friendship that felt like a lifetime taught you that her uniquely Winnie Ambrose mind had a knack for twisting events in favor of her.

Narcissism? No, not really. Perhaps crazed in the nicest way possible? Would you be a bad friend to say yes?

Her one sided relationship with Eddie Munson truly stamped itself as exhibit A. Then, of course, there was the whole sugar daddy incident, where Winnie swore up and down that the older gentleman on the train was about to make her rich. Turns out, his compliment about her shoes was solely based on the fact that his wife would love the same pair.

So maybe, just maybe, Winnie became an A.P Literature teacher’s favorite example of an unreliable narrator, as what she saw as a gaze of piqued interest from the metalhead was most likely a swift gaze that meant absolutely nothing.

Sudden voices erupted through the bar’s casual buzz, and you turned your head to the commotion, where the familiar members of Corroded Coffin marked their way through the crowding praises. Inexorably, a flock of women came hurtling as the sweaty lead singer and guitarist made his way out to sift through the potential suitors of a good time.

His hungry hands found a way to delicately graze the skin of every woman, giving them a lightning rush of whatever fun he could proffer for the night.

Shifting in your seat at the sudden wave of heat that burned you, you swallowed deeply watching the long strut of the mystery girl in the bathroom make a beeline to Eddie. It became easy to rationalize that pit in your stomach as the inevitable downfall of your best friend’s plan. Nothing more.

And yet, your eyes couldn’t steer away from them.

She was unbelievably gorgeous with an aura that captivated his attention in a split second. Over your shoulder, you watched her long lashes bat at his emerging smile, her gold rings complimenting the clash of his heavy silver ones, as his hand slipped into hers, raising it to a height that left her twirling before him, as he gawked at her body that fitted perfectly to her outfit.

And it was when his nose skimmed the skin of her cheek, lips whispering into her bejeweled ear, when his eyes unexpectedly caught yours across the bar.

An action so abrupt, you swiftly turned away to the ongoing conversation that had no interest in including you, but even that was better than staring Eddie Munson directly in the eye, as he worked up another woman.

Your pattering heart of anxiety became too heavy for your chest, forcing you to suffer in silence, heaving steadily until those rampaging butterflies finally calmed themselves in your stirring belly.

“Hey, you alright?” Winnie’s voice came close to your personal space.

You straightened your back, forcing a smile to appear. “Yeah, yeah, just, uh… I don’t know, getting used to things, I guess.” Her nods urged you to proceed. “But also, what I was trying to say earlier, that girl-”

“Hey.” You turned your head to the direction of the piercing blue eyes that scrutinized you with deep thought. Janet clung to his arm, as his body leaned over the table, as if to have you hear loud and clear. Walker Brauchman. “I know you from somewhere?”

“Um-”

“Your face, you got the face of someone I know, or at least, knew of.” His finger, so accusatory, pointed you out, adding seven more pairs of eyes to peruse you. “I thought it when I first saw you, but I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”

“Oh,” you stared around with a nervous laughter that rippled through your throat, “I don’t, uh, I don’t think so.” His face had been nothing but new when first approached, and surely those crystal eyes and broad brow bone would stick out in the memory of the past had you actually run into him before.

But he refused that answer, sticking with a fervent shake of his head. “Nah, nah, I’ve seen you before.”

Janet’s tense chuckles bursted out, as you watched her hands tighten around his bicep. “What’s going on here?” Her wide eyes ran down you. “Have you been with my boyfriend before?” Despite the flashy smile never leaving her face, nothing but hatred passed through her words.

“N-No, I don’t-”

“God, Walker, just drop it. How many beers have you had?” Winnie’s eyes rolled. “She’s not wandering around nightclubs where you techie, trust fund boys hang around. And Sebastian, when was the last time you got laid?”

You watched Janet’s eyes bug, and it became more evident that the glue holding these people was a deep loathing for one another. “Didn’t even say anything.” Sebastian’s voice quietly muttered, as he drowned his mouth in bourbon.

You sighed, sinking back in your chair. The entire night out was becoming a bust, and you were forced to revel in it. “Winnie.” You quietly spoke. “Maybe I should just head home, you stay and have fun.” You offered a weak smile in return to her concern.

“What? No.” She urged. “Look, just ignore them, okay? They’re a bunch of stuck up assholes, who I literally just use to get into that upscale bar on Saint Exn, you know, where they have those really uncomfortable performances that are supposed to be artsy, but really it’s just a bunch of weirdos bumping into walls.”

With a smile on your face, your soft giggles got lost in the murmur of the bar. At the very least, you had Winnie by your side. You leaned close to her vicinity. “Listen, Win, I know I said I would help you with this plan to, um, get back at Eddie, but I don’t think this is really gonna work out- or at least, I’m probably not the right person to do it.”

“What? How come?” Her arched brows pinched into her forehead. “No, you’re totally perfect, Y/N, I mean it, he was completely eyeing you.”

“Winnie, it’s just-” You adjusted in your seat to face her. “I feel like you may need someone with, um, more edge, I guess. I can’t- c’mon, Win, you know I can’t talk to a person like Eddie, it wouldn’t- it just wouldn’t work.” You rationalized. “You know, l-like her?”

Winnie followed the slight gesture that directed her behind you, where Eddie’s hand nursed a beer, as his right was occupied with groping at the fat of the woman’s ass. Winnie’s face scrunched into a scowl of disgust. “That perv does that to everyone. Trust, he’ll leave her as fast as it takes to finish in her.”

While appreciated, her words did little to provide you any comfort.

You peered back, and that inevitable pull left Eddie’s eyes gazing into yours, as his lips clung to the rim of his glass cup. Your eyes nervously met back to Winnie’s, and suddenly she had a smile on her face, as your periphery showed you the distant movements of Eddie guiding his group of band members and their pick of night to the large table behind you.

“God, he is so trying to make me jealous.” Winnie’s hushed voice complained to you. Eddie was beginning to approach with his new girl in tow. Nothing but a loud clatter from his friends who were securing spots around the table. “Okay, next part of the plan, we gotta move.” Winnie aggressively tapped your arm.

“Move? Move where?” You softly panicked.

“No, not move, like move onto the next- okay, just forget, just get up.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now!” Her demands spat on you through her harsh whispers. “Quick, quick! Just go get a drink.”

“I don’t want a drink, though.” Your brows furrowed.

Winnie deadpanned. “Oh, for the love of god, Y/N, just go to the bar. Just walk, no matter what, just walk, okay?”

Standing on your wobbly feet, you turned to face the busy bar. It only took one step for Winnie’s hand to suddenly shove your body forward in a belligerent manner that had your shoulder colliding with Eddie’s. But Winnie’s words were battering at your head. Just walk. And you never met the stunned state of Eddie Munson, as the entirety of his attention was stolen by you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” Your legs worked faster than your mind, hastily navigating you through the packed sardine of bodies, before you managed to squeeze yourself into a spot at the bar. Your finger tapped to the beat of your heart, clicking your nail to the slick wooden countertop that became more fervent by the second.

Through the swarming patrons, the bartender’s eyes locked with yours, which prompted your request. “Just a water, please.” With nothing but a nod handed back, your shoulders slumped to the whatever degree of fresh air the bar provided that wasn’t as suffocating as Eddie's presence.

You wondered if Eddie had said something to Winnie. They were nothing but a few feet apart, and seeing as what you had just done, you thought of the potential outcomes that could proffer themselves. The most blaring one being that Eddie probably told Winnie off about her creep of a friend who needs to back off. Oh, god, why did you ever agree to this? Embarrassment was coursing its burning way to your cheeks, which only worsened with the densely hot atmosphere that was beginning to be overwhelming. One look back would save you from the overbearing thoughts that were consuming your head, that Eddie Munson was, in fact, not at all engaging with Winnie Ambrose, but your eyes stayed glue to the whisking hands of the bartender, as concoctions were made before your water could ever be served.

Ice clanged, and you became captivated by the rapid shake of the mixer, until-

“Shoulder check back there was a bit rude, no?” Your eyes rose to the voice, only for a lump to lodge itself in the sudden tightness of your throat, hurriedly forcing your head away from him.

With a nearly empty cup, a simple gesture to the bartender for a refill sufficed as a wordless transaction for Eddie and the worker. “Sorry. Just crowded.” You managed to muster out, refusing his eyeline, despite his searing into your profile.

The answer should have served, but Eddie’s presence lingered for that awaiting refill, much like your water being tossed to the backburner for the numerous cocktails that were coming in for the sole bartender. Silence ensued, nothing but the minimal sounds of his body leaning forward were somehow becoming the lone focus of your attention. “You must think I’m some real jerk off, huh?”

You hadn’t registered how close his face had come, when your head turned and a pair of noses nearly bumped, with a smile eating at his face with just how fast you jumped back. “What?”

“Red-ish hair, bit of a loud mouth back there, that’s your roommate, no?” He eyed your silence. “I know I saw you yesterday. At her place. I saw you-”

“Her name’s Winnie.”

“Winnie.” Eddie’s tongue clicked. “Yeah, yeah.” His head nodded, as if recollecting the memories of whatever strained history he had of her.

A tense quietness was arising. If intently studying the abrasive nature of the bartender’s mixing was what it took to avoid his dark eyes, then you’d keep your focus trained, until a free moment was given to finally provide you with a water bottle.

But Eddie Munson, of course, had other plans.

“So, how’s Margaret?”

Such a casual grin swept his face, as he awaited the answer, but he was met with nothing more than a perplexed face of judgment, that had a cute way of flexing your brows together, he noted. “You remember Margaret but not Winnie?” Eddie Munson truly was just a load of bullshit.

“Well, if it came from your mouth, sweetheart, I’m gonna remember.”

Nothing but pathological lies spewing from that sinister grin. With luck on your side, the bartender found a moment of time to thrash a cold bottle of water upon you, giving you an escape, as you left him with nothing but a “right” to end the conversation.

His eyes stuck to the movement of your hips, his itching fingers have to splay themselves on the stubble of his chin, as his gaze diverted to the expanse of your body.

Had he seen your face, though, he would have relished in the panic that showcased itself, as you quickly stumbled your way back to Winnie, who was gladly slurping down her martini at the entertainment she witnessed from afar.

“Oh, my god, oh, my god, what did- ugh, what did he say?!” Winnie choked on her olive.

“Y’know, Winnie, I think it actually may be best if we just call it a night.” You quickly gathered your jacket over your shoulders, as Winnie stood from her seat.

Not one to tell twice, the contents of her martini glass were swigged down in a second, as she gathered her scattered belongings of a purse that was riffled through to retrieve her needed lipstick prior to your arrival. “Okay, but what did he- bye guys!” She waved off her friends. “What did he say?!”

Your hand clutched to hers, as you persevered through the endeavor of snaking your way through the crowd for a beeline to the exit. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?! Oh, c’mon, it’s Eddie, he had to have said something!” She prodded.

“Winnie, genuinely, he gave me some bullshit one liner, and that was it-”

“Leavin’ already? Could’a sworn y’all just got here?” With a gentlemanly hand holding the door open, both you and Winnie froze in place, as Eddie had abandoned that refilled beer all just to smile down at you. But you took the initiative to yank Winnie back to reality, tugging on her arm to let the cool breeze consume you in the loitered parking lot. But the god forsaken sound of the heavy crunch of boots against the asphalt had followed your movements. “Oh, c’mon now, things are just gettin’ a little interesting.” Eddie managed to speed up his steps, coming straight for your direction, where he fell in step ahead of you. “Kinda left me hangin’ back there.”

His eyes dropped to your bouncing body with each ardent step, and you left the warmth of Winnie’s hand to cross your jacket over. “There was nothing left hanging.”

“Now, wait, hold on.” His ringed hand buzzed your body, as it came to halt your movements with a gentle squeeze to your waist. “Kinda feel like you’re not getting the best first impression out of me here.”

Winnie chuckled. “You’re doing that to yourself.”

Eddie smiled. “Long time, no see, Wendy, still using too much teeth with your blowjobs?”

Her rum raisin lips pried open with a gasp of disbelief, as without a thought, her purse came flying to his arm. “It’s Winnie, you asshole!” Smack! “And unlike you, a piece of vibrating plastic can actually make me cum!” Winnie stormed off, violating her purse with her violent hands that aggressively searched for her car keys.

A sardonic laugh rippled out of his chest, as he happily smiled down at. “What a fucking liar, babe, don’t trust a word out of her. She always comes crawling back.” His sly grin whispered, as you felt his thumb caress you. You scoffed in revulsion, shoving his hand off of you to make your way around him. “Wait, wait, scratch that, alright? Forget I said that about your little friend, and we can start on a clean slate.” His legs followed you.

“Not interested.”

“Don’t tell me this is because of Red, sweetheart.” Your silence only egged him on. “Okay, look, whatever happened between me and your friend is in the past, alright? Just one little date will prove that I’m not usually like this, just got caught up in the wrong crowd, c’mon you gotta feel a little sympathy for me.”

“I don’t feel a thing actually.”

“Trust me, baby, after one date, I can make you feel a whole lot’a things.” His teeth flashed in a wicked smile that had your stomach anxiously turning. “What’s your pretty name, sweetheart?”

“I don’t think you really need to know that.”

“Kinda important to know the name of the girl I’m takin’ out.” You wouldn’t even be able to count on hand how many times Eddie’s forgotten his date’s name.

But you gulped the stress down, as you approached Winnie’s car. “Hasn’t a girl ever told you no?”

“Don’t you have a mind of your own?” Do you? Your body paused at his words, fingers lingering on the car door handle. “Don’t let your little friend influence this, use that head of yours for yourself. And for the record, sweetheart, no, a girl’s never told me no.” Eddie mockingly smirked in your face.

You swallowed thickly, as you faced the unbearable confrontation of Eddie Munson. Something you never even knew you had the confidence to do. “Well, I am, so accept it.”

“Look, darling, under any other circumstance, absolutely, but I got this funny, little feeling in my heart that you’re too special to let go.” His casanova smile ate at his face. “Just one little date s’all I’m askin’ for. Whatever you want, I’ll cater to your needs.”

Your eyes slung at Winnie’s through the car window, only to fall back on Eddie. Overwhelmed with feelings you’ve never felt before, you wanted to violently vomit, but stuck to the endeavor of standing your ground.

“Shove it.”

You cut Eddie off with the slam of Winnie’s door, where he stood watching you, as she keyed the ignition. In the distance, the entrance rang with the exit of Eddie’s friends. “Yo, Ed!”

But his eyes never left yours. “What?!”

“C’mon, we’re heading to the diner down east!” His friend called for, as Winnie reversed from the parking spot.

In the lively night, Eddie Munson watched you pull away, your chest heaving with just as much anxiety as the beating of his heart with the adrenaline you coursed through his veins. And maybe Eddie was lying at the mention of you being special, it wouldn’t be the first those words were spoken to get into the pants of a naive girl, who Eddie couldn’t have a single care for. Or maybe, just maybe, the craziness of Winnie Ambrose had managed to infiltrate your mind, forcing a sliver of you to believe his words to be true, as you festered on the subtle call out Eddie had managed to strike a nerve with. Something no one else has. Unless you were that easy to read to a practical stranger, how did Eddie know enough to be able to pick you apart with one sentence?

But you were urging yourself to understand this wasn’t his first rodeo.

Eddie watched Clara Dunn hide her tummy with her knit sweater, inevitably leading to his praises about her body that had her opening up her legs to him. Evil. Eddie watched Fernanda Pajaro conceal the hormonal bumps of her skin with creamy concealer, giving him the in to compliment her flawless complexion that got her mouth on his cock. Vile. Eddie watched Winnie Ambrose search for the validation of others, leaving him to whisper those sweet nothings in her ear that had her entangled in his sheets. Nefarious.

To Eddie Munson, you were absolutely noth-

“Ah! What the hell?!” Winnie’s foot slammed on the brakes, forcing your head to jolt at the sudden stop.

Behold, Eddie Munson’s hands perched against the hood of Winnie’s car, as the headlights of her Honda casted a sinister smile on his delighted face. “One date.” His muffled voice echoed.

Winnie rolled down the window of her car. “What the fuck are you doing?! You’re gonna get yourself killed!”

His shoulders shrugged, as his stare never left yours. “I won’t as long as you agree.”

Consternation was eating away at you, as the honking of cars was beginning to erupt, overstimulating you into a fright, that only worsened with the active traffic that was speeding on the other half of the four-lane highway.

“Are you crazy?! Get out of the road!” Your head peaked from the window, urging Eddie to leave.

You envied, yet despised the collection of calmness that he was able to generate, as his face never faltered from the clash of vehicles that sped by. “Just one date s’all I’m askin’.”

“Y/N, just do it!” Winnie begged you.

“No! I’m not about to be forced into this just because he’s insane!”

“Y/N is it? That’s real pretty.” Eddie smiled. “Y/N, will you go out with me?”

“No!” A car flew by. “God, please just get out of the road!” You desperately pleaded.

Eddie’s face playful faltered. “Why not? Why won’t you go out with me?”

“Because I don’t want you!”

A honk, louder than the usual, blared to warn its impending arrival, as Eddie’s palms were quickly beginning to moisten at the semi truck coursing down the road. “It’s just a date, just do it!” Winnie implored.

“Okay, okay! I’ll go out with you!” You hastily gave in, but the stubborn ego of Eddie Munson was rampantly becoming your sworn enemy.

“Nah, c’mon, don’t do me any favors-”

“No, no, I want to!” You beseeched, as the worry lines of your forehead deepened at the sight of the truck.

“Say it.” His smug smile infuriated you beyond compare.

“I wanna go out with you!” You angrily exhorted on the shortness of breath that weasled its way from your constricting throat.

“Say it again.”

You practically screamed your head off to satisfy the liking of Eddie Munson. “I want to go out with you!”

And he smiled, so proudly at his actions, but even more so at your words. “Alright, alright, we’ll go out, no need to beg.”

Running off road, you settled back into the seat with heavy breaths, as you finally watched Eddie safely return to the bar’s parking lot. Your sweaty hand burned itself on the hotness of your tense forehead that was beginning to welcome an ache from the strain of your voice and worries.

If only you knew the worsened matters of your situation, as Santina Rodrigo, with her burgundy acrylics and brown lips of gloss, watched in a fury at the events that transpire between her man and you.

Not to promote the imperial idealization of the American government, but you were beginning to loathe the contents of Africa and Asia that made them so large you were left unable to complete your puzzle by 12:00 A.M Saturday.

As spoken, this was the universe's punishment.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson series #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #revenge is a dish best served cold

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

I’ll Name The Dogs - Martin x Reader (Untogether)

Gif Credit: X

Author’s Note: Scene’s We’d Like To See Part Three! 🎉 It’s been a little while since I wrote for Martin - so it’s nice to get back to him 😊 I mean, how could you not though with such a cute premise?

Thank you for requesting! 💙💜

Disclaimer: Untogether characters plot etc not mine / lyrics not mine / idea not mine - I just wrote the words! “Jake” is the name of Dierks Bentley’s dog, and all I can think of is all the songs he mentions him in, therefore - Jake.

Premise (As Requested): After the break up Martin needs something to occupy himself when he’s not working. He can only do gigs here and there o when he’s not working, he’s just depressed. But he sees a flyer or something asking for volunteers at a local shelter and since he loves dogs (Dog Whisperer will come in handy), he thinks why not? He applies and meets you whilst working with cute animals and maybe he starts fostering but either way he’s crushing on you and always looks forward to going to the shelter to help animals and see a cute lady

Words: 2372

Warnings: 1 instance of swears & bit of a cliche ending? 😉

_______ Girl, it's high time, I tell ya No more messin' around Time to lay these cards on the table And just throw it on out It's a real thing, a how I feel thing So I'mma go on and take a swing You find the spot and I'll find the money You be the pretty and I'll be the funny You plant the flowers, I'll plant the kisses Baby, let's get right down to business I'll hang the pictures, you hang the stars You pick the paint, I'll pick a guitar Sing you a song out there with the crickets and the frogs You name the babies and I'll name the dogs Yeah, laying next to you every night Sounds like a damn good life

---

After giving it a couple of weeks, Martin thought it was about time he actually got up off the couch and started doing something with his life. Tara had turned up on his doorstep, but luckily not at one of his weaker moments – and although she had stood there with a suitcase sobbing and begging him to take her back, Martin has refused. Though he had spent a great deal of time listening to her and fighting with himself. More time than he was prepared to admit… He still loved her, dearly, but he wasn’t sure he could deal with her breaking his heart for a third time. And there would be a third – he already knew that. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice… Fool me thrice?! I don’t think so! Unfortunately the band’s gigs were only here and there affairs, and although he wanted to preoccupy himself with music, there was nothing pulling him to his guitar. Even with his current heartache – isn’t that what most musicians’ careers thrived on!? Apparently not his. Right now Martin also wasn’t painting much – but he wasn’t really advertising himself as available. He just needed some time. By no means was he completely out of work, he had just scheduled the jobs for a little later in the month. What Martin really needed was something steady. That would really take his mind off things. And he wasn’t sure curled up watching the Dog Whisperer – heartbreak cure all though it was – really qualified on that list. At first it was just things like tidying the house, and afterwards deciding that it did indeed need a fresh coat of paint itself. But when he stepped out of that front door for the first time in a while, he wasn’t really sure where his ambling would take him. But Martin did need groceries. This was when he passed the usual bunch of people handing out flyers for something-or-other on the corner of the street. Martin only took one to be polite – but he also knew the cost and pay of such things – he’d had the same thing done to promote his band, had done it for himself a couple of times. But when he got home and the scrunched flyer was still in his pocket, he unfolded it with a chuckle – faced with the picture of a dog. He leant on his counter staring at it for a moment, then a moment became a minute… became a few. It was for a local shelter, that wanted people to adopt, or foster – but more intriguing to Martin, was that they were looking for volunteers. Which would certainly give him something to do to fill his time. He pinned the flyer to his noticeboard and dragged his laptop towards him – time to find out a little more information about this place… *** He’d met you on his first visit. That time you were on the front counter, and Martin was immediately caught by your personality. You had a sweet gentle smile, and you were enthusiastic as you showed him around. And laughed at the way he crouched in front of every dog run to say hello and give them his full attention. ‘You could just adopt a bunch you know-!?’ ‘Oh-! No, I need the volunteering more-! And if I take ‘em all home they wont be here!’ ‘Touché!’ He liked that you asked him questions, about where he was from and what he did. And before long he found himself telling you things he didn’t even think he told Tara. Or perhaps anyone. He liked the easiness of being with you. And soon enough his couple of days a week turned to every spare moment. It wasn’t a relationship – but it was so simple. You’d walk the dogs together, and clean out their cages and eventually – yes – you even dragged him out to distribute flyers. Martin was an enigma to you. Everything that came out of his mouth made you laugh, or had you intrigued – and you hung on to every word he said. You liked the way sometimes he would check the time, shout an expletive and have to dash off to do his actual job. Which, you guessed almost immediately by the paint on his jeans, or the occasions where he’d driven right on over from one and still had overalls on. That was incredibly cute. And also useful, because the shelter could do with a good lick of paint. And Martin jumped at that chance, for more time with you. But what you loved most was whenever you caught him singing – sometimes with headphones in but more often than not to himself. And you never really let on that you heard him, because his voice was so gorgeous - and you’d stand with a mug of coffee and just listen to his melody, until you realised that this was your job and you got paid for this, and should probably do some real work. But one day you stared at him for a little too long and he must have felt it because he turned. Causing both you and he to blush immediately.

But, that was how you found out he had a band; and before long Martin’s heart was swelling to hear you humming along to his own music. Because of course you’d gone out and downloaded everything you could immediately. That made him feel alive again – and he’d spend his evening with his guitar writing, whether for you or not he couldn’t say for sure. But because of you, he knew for certain. He knew he was harbouring a crush – how could he not? You were everything Tara wasn’t. And exactly what Martin needed. (Also, you were more impressed with what he’d picked up from the Dog Whisperer than anyone else ever had been. And you were around dogs all the time – it was entertaining to see him talk with such fervour about a programme you also enjoyed.) He knew that he would eventually have to invite you to a concert of his – but for now he was content to listen to your own voice sing his music. And he selfishly wanted to keep you all to himself here, away from that – and without introducing you to his friends. That wasn’t to say, as you continued to sing – occasionally together – through a back catalogue of your favourite music, and occasionally tried to guess what the other was singing, that he didn’t want to take you on a date to a record store and spend all afternoon listening with you. Sometimes you stuck him on the front desk – which wasn’t something he enjoyed more than greeting every dog that came in, or saying a tearful goodbye to the ones leaving. But you did notice how many young girls liked to fawn over him when he was placed there. And you were sure Martin was as responsible for the increase in female footfall. It made you roll your eyes to watch some of them try so hard when he was clearly not interested – and even a little jealous when he seemed to show any interest in what they were saying at all. That wasn’t like you. And you weren’t sure why that was until you caught him staring at you as much as you liked to stare at him. The longer this continued the more you were aware of harbouring a crush on him. And the more you supposed his crush on you became obvious. And once you noticed that, you could hardly un-notice it. He spent so much time around you, or wanting to help you out. You wondered if Martin knew you felt the same… if he had any inkling at all. Or if you were somehow good at hiding it. You usually were. Of course, you could just tell him – but it was sweet to watch this man go out of his way for you. To say too much and blush and realise it, and yet still not know how to shut up. Was there any piece of Dog Whisperer trivia he couldn’t tell you? You were surprised he hadn’t let his crush on you slip yet. But all his body language was there. Occasionally he’d help you close up – if he didn’t have anywhere to be – far after he had to be around. Or you’d be on the front desk, and in quieter moments he’d kick around with you, instead of actually volunteering. How he’d place his hand on yours and let it linger there. Sometimes you found yourself wishing he’d do such things when all those girls were still here. Sometimes you went so far as wishing he’d just lean in and kiss you. If only you knew how badly Martin wanted to do that. Today however you needed a little help from your resident Dog Whisperer with a boisterous puppy. “Hey-! You busy?” Even if Martin was having the craziest most full-on day of his life you knew when you asked he’d miraculously be free. “No, No – what’s up!?” “Well, you’re good with dogs. Like really good, extremely good-! Otherworldly good-!” He chuckled, watching that smile on your face grow as he knew the joke that was coming; “Okay. I get it…! What can I help you with?” “Puppy behaviour. Actually to be honest just walking him. But you’re stronger than me, so just in case.” And you knew that to be true; how many times had you checked out his arms and shoulders in those tight white shirts he insisted on wearing-!? “Oh!” He chuckled again, light blush crossing his cheeks, “Well – haha – I’d be happy to help you out.” “Oh! Martin! Would you-!?” You took his hands in yours, knowing exactly what you were doing “Oh! You’re a star!!” He continued to blush gently; “If you say so…!” “I do!” You affirmed with a smile, “Come with me!” He was sure that the problem was that the puppy hadn’t been trained properly, and he certainly pulled far too often at his lead. “He might just need to be around people… You know. Just someone with a firm, but gentle, hand. Puppies often get separation…” Martin moved to the side as Jake ran between both of you again, changing lead hands so as not to get ensnared by the leash “…anxiety. So some of it could be that-! Some of it could ALSO be just because he needs to let off a lot of energy-!” “Well, what’s the recommendation?” “Fostering?” Martin strained for a moment, reigning him back in with a hush. “I could do it?” “Don’t say that just for me.” “No! No! I would love to-! It’d give me something else to do.” He seemed to pull Jake to heel for a minute, and praised him softly – causing the puppy to give a happy bark. “Are you sure you aren’t the actual dog whisperer-!?” You almost marvelled him – the rest of you had been trying to do the same for a couple of days with no results. Martin chuckled again; “I think I watched far too much of it to be honest. And this is the one time it’s actually been useful.” “Aw, I wouldn’t say that. I like when you talk about it – it’s cute.” It was the first time you’d said something like that. About him. And Martin’s eyes widened and raised to you. And then he stopped walking, making you turn to him. “What?” “…You…” He looked bemused; “…It’s cute?” “Sure.” You smiled, “I mean you’re pretty cute all around but that’s certainly, cute.” “You think… I’M cute!?” He smiled – one of those sweet kinda stupid soppy smiles “Mhm…” You beamed, “You sure are!” Then he flushed again, and you knew he wanted to say it – it was all over his face – but he still didn’t know if he could… or if he should. “Y/N… I think… I mean, I think you’re…WOAH--!” With the both of you stood still, and paying much more attention to each other than Jake, he’d done the one thing Martin was trying to stop him from doing, and had weaved between your legs, and his and around the both of you, before tugging the lead; not that you’d believe for a second that the dog had any idea what was going on. But, suddenly you found yourselves in far closer proximity than you’d ever expected “Shit! Sorry! Sorry!” Martin tried to pull back and unravel the lead for himself, which made you laugh. “It’s not your fault.” “No-! True! But…!!” Then he couldn’t help but laugh “But?” You let him untangle the lead from you, noticing that now Jake was sitting by obediently, “Martin, if you want to say something you should just say it-!” He laughed again – turned to Jake “Well. He certainly seems to know what I wanna say.” “Maybe you are the dog whisperer…” You mused, “Either that or he’s trying to help you out.” Martin ran a hand through his hair, “I mean, I guess he’s not satisfied with just me.” “Oh?” You grinned teasingly, waiting for him to say it. “…I mean this is it right…” Martin laughed, “…This is where all the plans go out the window…” Then he took a deep breath, “…But I guess I still… I still get to ask you out.” Then you were blushing, “…Oh Martin. You didn’t have to plan anything!” “Well, I was thinking I’d get to ask you to a gig, maybe even just start with a niche record shop, and…” His eyes flicked to Jake still sitting looking pleased with himself, “…Obviously that wasn’t good enough!” then head snapped back to face you; “Wait-! Was that essentially a yes!?” You pushed yourself up on your toes and kisses his cheek gently, gaining that sappy little smile back “Yes.” That caused Jake to bark happily. Martin scoffed, “Alright! That’s enough from you!!” You laughed; “Oh yeah, you two are gonna be trouble for me I can tell.” Martin grinned, holding his hand out for yours, “Good trouble though! I promise-!” You smiled in agreement as you laced your fingers with his. Good Trouble. Yeah, and absolutely worth every moment of it.

---

@menndelsohn @3134045126 @happyskywhale @wltz-bby #MendoTagSquad

#Martin be in the business of song stealing. Because this is 100% Robins #but considering I don't ACTUALLY need it for Robin - Martin is welcome to it #and the lyrics fit this adorbs premise - so here we are!#Martin #Martin x Reader #Untogether #Shoot I still haven't named his OC...#wow. He must be the /only/ one that's a regular...#Is it literally him and John? Geez. What's wrong with me-!?#Ben Mendelsohn #127 #Linzi Writes #Linzi Writes Requests #Smol Bean Drabbles #Martin also gets to be the last fic of Bens 50th year!#Danny was the first #So those are some sweet book ends!#Aria

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

Princess | JJ Maybank

Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.

Find my masterlist here

She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.

“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.

“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.

“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.

Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.

She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.

“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.

“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”

“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.

🏹

The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.

“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.

His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.

“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.

“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.

“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.

Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.

“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”

Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”

Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”

“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.

“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.

It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.

🏹

JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.

“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.

“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.

“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.

“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.

You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.

“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.

You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.

“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.

You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.

🏹

“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.

“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”

“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.

“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.

“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.

“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”

“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.

“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.

Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.

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obxfishon · 4 years

Text

You’re Such A

JJ x Reader (and some rafe x reader in a very ex relationship way)

Description: Fic based off the song “You’re Such A” by Hailee Steinfeld, like literally some of the lines are straight out of the song lol. It’s such a banger, give it a listen while you read :)

Word Count: 1.7K

“Hello?” you answered your phone, smiling at the following words.

“Hey pretty lady,” JJ quipped, a grin evident in his voice.

You two weren’t dating, at least you didn’t think, you haven’t really discussed what you were due to you just exiting a relationship, but whatever it was you enjoyed it. He was always there, whether it was to surf a wave or to offer a reassuring hug, he was your person.

“What are you up to? We’re thinking of doing a movie night at John B’s place, you in?”

“Yeah sure, I just got home so let me change and I’ll head that way.” You replied, excited to see him, and the rest of the gang, but especially him.

It had been a long day at work, you had some prissy kook “accidentally” spill her lemonade all over you and then didn’t have time to change. The country club paid well, but sometimes you worried if dealing with the spoiled brats was worth it.

“Alrighty, see ya soon!” JJ hung up after and you rushed to change and start your walk to Johns.

---

You were only about another five minute walk away when you heard a car engine nearing, so you stepped off to the side of the road to let them pass, but it never came.

Confused, you turned your head to see where the car went, and groaned when you saw Rafe getting out of his car and running up to meet you.

“(y/n)! Hey, you haven’t been answering my calls, where have you been?” He scrambled to match your pace, now quickening it to get to the house sooner.

“I’ve seen your voicemails Rafe, I’ve just chosen to ignore them.” You snapped back.

You weren’t sure how it happened, but you and Rafe had dated for six months before you ended things suddenly a month ago. You had caught him cheating on you, but slipped away before he saw, and you still hadn’t given him a reason for ending things. He didn’t know that you knew, no one did, you hadn’t even told the gang, not that they asked, they never liked him so they were just glad you had come to your senses.

To be fair, Rafe was a decent person when you met him. You were working at the country club when some girl was yelling at you for the salad dressing she had received. Apparently she asked for non-fat and she could “taste the fat in the ranch” that topped her salad. He had seen your stress and calmed the girl down for you, not caring about the fact that you were a Pogue. You found that as odd, but for some reason he fell for you and you did the same. You had thought you might even be in love before you caught him. But that was all in the past now.

Stepping into John B’s driveway you almost relaxed before you felt Rafe grab your wrist to turn you to look at him.

“(Y/n), please. I don’t even know what I did wrong, I just know I miss you, I miss us.” He looked sad, and you felt your heart string pull for him, but as quick as it appeared they vanished, images of what you saw still burned in your brain.

“Let go Rafe,” You muttered, trying not to cause a scene, but ripped away from him and started back towards the destination.

“I love you!” He called, loudly, stopping you in your tracks, and causing the Pogues to come out of the house.

You didn’t turn towards him, frozen in place, anger building with each step he took towards you.

“(Y/n), I love you,” He said again, at a lower tone, now aware that you two had an audience.

Not being able to contain yourself you turned to him and replied.

“You had your chance Rafe, you had it and you blew it. And, geez the more you open your mouth, the more you try to pull me back in, you just prove it to me. You’re not worth my time,” You glared at him and turned away again, he tried to grab your shoulder but you shrugged it off and raised your voice again.

“What, did you think that I would let you crawl right back into my bedroom? After all we’ve been through,” you paused, taking a deep breath, “I know the truth.” You spat.

You knew that your friends were watching, but they knew better than to interfere.

“Truth? Truth about what?” Rafe tried to fein confusion.

“I saw you that night Rafe! I don’t know who the hell she was, but you two seemed to know each other plenty well, at least that's what I got from seeing your tongue down her throat.” Your words were like a slap to the face, he finally knew he was caught.

You heard one of the girls gasp, but you ignored it, it felt so good to finally get this off your chest, so you continued.

“You can try to put this all back together, but it’s beyond repair. I’m doing so much better without you.” You rolled your eyes.

“(Y/n), I-I don’t,” Rafe tried to find a lie, but he knew he was finished.

“You can take your lies to the next girlfriend, because I really, really don’t want to hear this anymore.” You looked in his eyes and saw a sadness you weren’t expecting, but he quickly changed his tone and spoke.

“Whatever, you’ll come around eventually,” He went to walk away but you decided to finish this, once and for all.

“Rafe,” you smiled as he turned back to you. Walking up to him you placed a hand on his cheek.

“If you are the only thing left when the world ends, I still would walk away,” you crinkle your nose, give his cheek a little pat and turn towards your friends, he hated not having the last words, but there wasn’t anything else for him to say.

Your friends all had shocked looks on their faces, you had always been quiet and reserved, this was totally out of character for you.

Making eye contact with JJ, you smiled, and he returned it.

“Damn, didn’t know you had that in you princess.” His approval was evident in his voice.

“(Y/n), I am so so so sorry, I had no idea that my brother did that to you,” Sarah looked like she was about to cry.

She moved towards you and wrapped her arms around you, trying to apologize for her brother.

“Hey, Sarah, don’t worry it’s not like you could have done anything. He’s his own person, and I saw who he really was and knew it wouldn’t work out.” You shrugged it off, you really did feel better about the situation now. Having a month to cope and an amazing group of people around you made things easier.

“So, what movie are we watching?” You broke the awkwardness that seemed to be lingering in the air. Everyone started talking to each other again and moved towards the house when you felt JJ lace his finger through yours and pull you aside a bit.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” he pushed a hair behind your ear, the small gesture making your head spin.

“He said he still loved you,” JJ looked down towards his feet, then back up to your eyes, “do, uh do you…” he didn’t want to say the words, but you knew what he was getting at.

“I’m not really sure I ever did, I loved the idea of him, someone who would get me pretty things, someone who would be there to defend me, but that's not loving the person.” You shrugged.

What you didn’t realize was that your words worried him more than he realized.

“Look, (y/n), I care about you, alot. I may not be able to buy you expensive things, but I will always be there, and I don’t ever want to see you hurt. When I heard the pain in your voice when you were talking to him, I just wanted to go hold you, show you how you should be treated. You are worth so much, and I just want to be the one who does all that.” He finished and pulled you into a tight embrace.

You didn’t have to respond with words, you squeezing him to you showed him that you cared as well, and neither of you wanted to let go.

---

A few days later you were laying out on the boat while the boys fished, and Kie was swimming on the other side with Sarah.

A shadow fell over you and you opened your eyes to see JJ looking at you with a goofy grin taking over his face.

“Oh geez, JJ what did you do,” you smile sitting up, him taking a seat next to you.

“So, the other day I told you that I didn’t have the money to buy you pretty things,” you frowned, he knew you didn’t expect that of him, “so I still don’t have that money, but what I do have is time, and with the help of an eight year old that saw me struggling, I made you this!” He revealed a little string bracelet, completed with two small square beads that had a ‘J’ on them.

He was so proud of himself, holding the small creation in his hands searching your face for your reaction.

As soon as he had pulled it out of his pocket you felt small tears prick behind your eyelids.

“Oh my gosh, JJ this is the best thing that anyone has ever gotten me!” you smile at him, a small tear escaping, him quickly wiping it away.

“J, no one has ever done anything so thoughtful for me, I love it, here tie it on!” you exclaim holding out your wrist for him to add it to your empty wrist.

After it was tied on you held your wrist out to examine it, “it’s perfect.” you turned to him and saw that he was already looking at you.

Without realizing it you both started leaning in and he captured your lips with his. Backing away after the short but wonderful kiss, he opened his eyes and looked at you.

“Perfect bracelet for the perfect girl.”

Nothing could wipe the smile off your face.

#jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obxstuff #rafe cameron #youre such a #song fic

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Cassell Cynic

@hectabdr @hectab For my Dragon Raja Bestie! :D A Gift Fic

These two are his idea. I just loved the idea.

“The weather is a balmy 74 degrees and sunny, low humidity and perfect for just hanging out and going for a walk in the lovely city parks of Chicago and now we’re going to a selection of some of Coltrane’s finest jazz compilations....”

On the East Lawn of the Cassell College Campus people were indeed out and about in the sun. The breeze ruffled the skirts of the girls carrying books and laughing to themselves. They cast glances his way and smirked, looking down at him with haughty eyes while he lay on a bench with his sunglasses over his eyes. Somewhere on site, the bells tolled the hour. 2 pm. It was time for afternoon classes to start.

In other words, time for a nap.

He lay on the bench with John Coltrane’s sultry saxophone in his ears. He studied how this man could weave such a delightfully heart pulling melody. Now there was a true genius, able to hone a natural craft into such perfection and gift it to the world for free listening.

But right when the music had reached its natural emotional zenith, it suddenly cut off.

“Nathan Phillips. I know you’re avoiding me.”

His mood went from euphoric to crashing down to the depths of hell. He rolled his eyes behind his dark glasses. “And yet... here we are...”

Norma, the voice of Cassell College’s AI spoke through his headphones. “You haven’t attended a single class this semester...”

“You mispronounced year.”

“The professors are getting irritated...”

“Did you hack an online radio station just to talk to me? Norma... I’m flattered.”

“They’re willing to give you a chance if you complete an internship...”

“A chance to do... what exactly?” Nathan spread out his hands. “It needs to be better than listening to jazz on sunny afternoon, or it’s a no from me.”

Norma was silent for several seconds.

Nathan Phillips smirked. “Didn’t think so...”

“Cassell College has a main mission, to slay dragons. If you’re not here for that, what are you here for?” Norma asked.

Nathan opened his eyes behind his glasses. “I think you should be asking that question of all the other students going to class. Because I guarantee you that Dragonslaying isn’t it. I mean just think about it? How many students here really give a rat’s ass about saving the world from dragons? I’m serious. Answer the question.”

“The answers can vary but that doesn’t change the goal of the institution. This was plainly told to you when you enrolled.”

Nathan Phillips nodded his head. “Oh yeah, and I bought into it until I was Ranked C on me 3E exam. I don’t resonate worth a damn with dragons. I’m barely above the maintenance personnel in that regard.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of marijuana. He rolled it in paper and lit it.

“Smoking is prohibited on school grounds.”

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it. So, what are you going to do? Kick me out? I listened to the enrollment lecture. You don’t kick out students. They get suspended or drop out and have their memories wiped. If you kick me out for this blunt, that will be my greatest accomplishment as a C rank.”

Norma made a noise and his eyes widened. “Did you just sigh? Wow, you are realistic. So... just out of curiosity, what is the mission?”

“If you’re not going to accept, there’s no point in telling you.” Norma replied.

“This conversation is over then? It was just getting interesting. Oh well. But if you want to know the answer to your question of why I’m here... you should ask my parents.” He blew out a purple haze into the sky. “They’re the ones who sent me here. They scrimped and saved to send me here. They could have bought me a house. Two houses. A nice car. All that. But no, they sent me here. Just so they could say they had a son go to Cassell. That’s it. To prove their bloodlines weren’t trash. But they were wrong... they are trash.”

“That’s all I’m here for, Norma. I’m here to be here. That’s where my obligations end. I’ll stay here until the money runs out. Enjoy myself. And then when the money runs out, I’ll drop and have my memory wiped. Go on with my life. And...” He paused to draw on the blunt. “I will have a life. Some star dragonslayer will save the world from dragons while I’m having the time of my life, on the bench, smoking Mary Jane. Do you have any objections?”

Norma was silent for several seconds. “None. I’ll return you to your jazz.”

John Coltrane returned to his ears and Nathan Phillips smiled to himself and relaxed into the buzz in his brain. There was nothing wrong with a pointless life.

If he learned anything from Cassell, it was this.

He pulled out a notebook and opened it. Inside were all sorts of fantasies of what he would like to be told on dropping out. It wasn’t enough to just erase someone’s memories. New memories would have to replace them to explain the missing years. It could be literally anything.

Maybe he was someone who witnessed a mob hit and was living undercover in the witness protection program. Or maybe he was a secret agent in a UFO division and he’d be kidnapped off world by aliens. He always came up with his best work when he was high as a kite. This time, he was an aspiring artist on the run from a brutal dictator and taking refuge in Chicago. He wrote down the scenario quickly before he forgot it.

All the other students were in class, except for him, sitting on the bench writing down about how his paintings were renowned all over the world until a brutal dictator... which dictator? “Uh... Geez I don’t know.”

The sound of heels clicking on the pavement caught his attention. He turned bleary eyed to the vision of a girl walking up to him, arms swinging, eyes narrowed. He’d seen her before but couldn’t remember where. She overshadowed him and looked up. Her head blocked out the sun and he couldn’t see her face. “Um... shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Uh, no! No class! I was supposed to be on assignment but my PARTNER is a lazy ass who won’t show up.” She growled.

Nathan lifted his sunglasses over red rimmed eyes. She was Asian but tall, only an inch from 6 feet. Her muscles nearly popped from her school uniform. He wasn’t sure if it was the weed messing with his head but he was pretty sure this woman could benchpress more than he weighed. “Well... that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does!” She bent over until her face was an inch from his, blinking with wide indignant eyes. “You shouldn’t be allowed to to bring down the grades of other students! I didn’t come here to be brought down by you!”

“Me?”

“Yes! You! My partner!”

“Wait... you’re... Oh right! You’re Hana... Hana...” He snapped his fingers.

“Sato, Hana Sato and don’t snap your fingers at me or I’ll snap them off!” She grabbed his wrist.

“Right... the A ranked girl.” He lowered his glasses back over his eyes. “Well, this wasn’t my decision to be your partner. You should blame the people at fault. It’s probably Norma. She’s the one who pinged me earlier about it. Tell her to get a new partner for you. Should take a hot minute.”

Hana scowled at him. “If I could have anyone else for a partner I would. But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they all suck! They’re all terrible! All they want to do is talk about boys and parties and stupid things like that! I can’t stand those people!”

“I’m not any better. Just do the mission by yourself.” He pulled his hand out of her grip.

“I can’t. They already said its a two person mission.”

Nathan gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. “Pay someone.”

“They said it had to be you.” She sat next to him on the bench.

Nathan snorted and started laughing. “Wow. They are really desperate.”

“I’m glad you think bringing down my whole year is funny.” Her cheeks were red and her eyes were narrowed with frustration and anger.

“I’m not bringing down your year! I’m laughing because they want me to care so bad that they’d send this super powerful, gorgeous girl and chain her to me and expect me to do something. It’s like they all got together and said ‘Ha! A pretty girl, now he’ll give a shit.’” He laughed loud. Marijuana always made him giggly. “They’re the evil ones. If you care about your grade... then all I can tell you is stop caring.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a C-rank. You don’t have anything to lose.”

“Just... find another partner.” Nathan said, staring at her. He wondered why she was still here.

She sighed, looking away from him, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. “I can’t. No one will work with me. I kind of... got put on a hit list after I punched the lead dancer of the White Skirt’s Club and knocked her out right before a performance.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Much to his shock she pulled out her phone and showed a picture. It wasn’t taken by her, but by another student as proof that Hana had ruined the Student Union performance.

“Heh. Sorry I missed it.”

Hana closed the app. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. She had an understudy but... uh... yeah, I was blacklisted after that. I don't’ care. I work fine on my own. But now they insisted we be partners and I literally have no alternative.”

“Hey...”

She looked down at him. “What?”

“You always have the choice to do nothing. I haven’t done a thing since I got here.” He laid back on the bench as though to demonstrate. “Feel free to join me.”

#Dragon Raja

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bladekindeyewear · 3 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-12-25

I’m not going to spend time BLOGGING an upd8 on Christmas morning!

...yes I am who the fuck am I kidding. (Bonus stuff and Hiveswap are still well on hold though.)

So are we gonna follow up on the main ship? Probably not, right, with that perfect Karkat point to cut away, right? We’re just going to leave Roxy’s question hanging, as well as makeouts etiquette, and leave while having seen a COUPLE FRAMES of non-possessed canon Jade with only whatever fun fanart was inspired across the internet by the moment to tide us over????

Yeah, probably.

Ugh, more Dirk. I guess it’s overdue. :(

> CHAPTER 16. Welcome to my Secret Lair

Oh huh, I guess not? So... Jane’s, or Rose and Kanaya’s?

Karkat stays for longer than John thought he would. They talk a bit, but mostly they are quiet. Eventually, Karkat gets called away on yet more important war business, leaving John with one final touch on the shoulder. John leans into it in response, though he’s a bit ashamed of chasing down a sliver of physical affection so soon after obliterating Karkat’s evening like he had.

Pretty much, yeah. Can’t blame either of them.

When Karkat is finally gone, John still doesn’t move. It isn’t as though he has nowhere else to go, since there are quite a few places he might attempt to make himself useful, for better or for worse.

You’re still abandoning the task that was explicitly yours to protect your literal kid and his friends, but, oh well. Low-point. Dave dead, house dead, broke news, I get it.

He just doesn’t feel ready for that yet. The remnants of his house are still smoldering, and he can’t stop staring at them. It would make sense, he thinks, to want to root around through the rubble for anything that’s still intact; some half-charred keepsake to claim as the last thing left that’s still his. But he doesn’t want to do it, and he doesn’t want to think about it. And he still can’t move.

Can’t move. No Breath huh? What’s going to get him to, then?

> (==>)

Oh boy, that might help. XD She’s pretty good at that.

> (==>)

Still with the waistline gap. And was his phone always yellow like his God-Tier shoes?

ROXY: hey john can u do me a quick solid ROXY: actly idk how quick itll be but its definitely solid ROXY: harry anderson says i just missed u being here but could u skip back on over?

Nice, huh! No judgment, just a hey-any-chance-you-could-swing-back. He sort of needs to be needed right now, in a simple, almost everyday non-judgmental way I guess. (That’s what he NEEDED anyway-- whether he deserved it though is up for debate.)

ROXY: i need help w/smth and yr darling boy is holed up in his room working on some fuckin craft project or other and cant be bothered

YES SEW JOHN A BETTER FITTING FUCKING OUTFIT

ROXY: and now that me and u are freshly on speakin terms again i might as well take advantage of that olive branch and put u to work ROXY: assumin you havent died in an air raid, that is ROXY: which id also be interested in knowin about so if u wld be so kind as to reply instead of leavin me hangin

Heheheh. Gosh Roxy is always the best.

JOHN: yea yea sorry im here. JOHN: i just had a hard time getting my phone out of these fucking tiny pants.

Hah.

JOHN: and also my house is bombed out so i'm kinda grappling with that. JOHN: but i honestly am not sure how much longer i need to sit around staring at it. trying to align my memories of my youth with whatever is happening right now so JOHN: short version is no i’m not dead, and yeah i can come back over there and help you out. ROXY: oh sweet yr alive and down to do manual labor its a win/win JOHN: see you soon.

Yep! Pulled away from all the metaphorical, ultra-meaningful bullshit, back to some brass tacks with some easy humor. Definitely something Roxy can do well.~

> (==>)

EXCUSE ME. What is that outfit and pose. Did you--

ROXY: sup ROXY: follow me ROXY: well were just going to my room so i guess technically u know the way JOHN: haha ok.

Did you invite him over for the manual labor of banging you while your son is sewing in the other room

Or maybe the labor is making him a new sibling. JFC

Is this plan part of why we got the sudden content warning that was mocked or was that mainly for Hiveswap

John follows, trying to shake the ominous feeling he got from what she’d just said. He’d been in and out of this house a lot in the past few days. Why should this be any different?

I DUNNO JOHN DOES THIS SEEM DIFFERENT TO YOU

> (==>)

Yea this seems like a fucc room.

JOHN: it’s not like i could forget! ROXY: ya i guess u only really saw the living room when you were here the other day but i have changed some stuff up ROXY: done a lil redecoratin here n there

So it’s MORE of a fucc room than previously >__>”

ROXY: may have to do a smidge more if my old bff decides im next on the list for bombing out ROXY: but so far so good

Ah geez.

ROXY: just a coupla exploded cars in the yard from some shenanigans our dear son and his friends were in but u kno it is what it is!!!

Well, that’ll buff out easy.

ROXY: can i get u anything? ROXY: just made some coffee JOHN: no, uh, i’m good.

Of course she has a fancy handled winecoffeeglass (and the handle does look ridiculous but it’d be too hot to hold otherwise)

Roxy shrugs and swirls her own coffee around in her novelty mug. John looks around. A lot about the room is the same. The family photos, the rug. There’s a lot more cat stuff in there now, though. The bed is new. John feels like he’s about to take a test he hasn’t studied for. He makes himself focus on what she’s saying.

That would be the feeling.

> (==>)

MY GOD. Roxy is so fucking good at this holy shit

She KNOWS she’s making him squirm and she loves it

JOHN: so uh anyway. JOHN: what was this favor? ROXY: yo why dont u just come rest yr tush for a bit ROXY: take a lil relax next 2 me here JOHN: haha uh. JOHN: roxy i uh. JOHN: im flattered, but i don’t know if that’s really the right step right now. JOHN: don’t get me wrong, everything seems so fucked up right now that when i try to think about what might actually BE the right step, it feels like a huge cartoon question mark might physically manifest over my head. JOHN: but I’m not sure if um rekindling our physical relationship is really the best--

So is Roxy trolling him, about to reveal she wasn’t thinking of sex and was just making things seem sultry? Or just had “lol jk” as an option-select, maybe.

> (==>)

ROXY: r u kiddin me rn egbert JOHN: i’m not? unless you were, in which case yeah lets say i was also kidding. JOHN: oh my god, i’m sorry, i don’t know why this making me freak out.

OH NOOO NOT THE DISDAAAAIN - CRITICAL HIT D:

ROXY: i remember our past boot knockin with fondness but that is a situation im not interested in revisiting

boot knockin XD

ROXY: look john ROXY: i was trying to be polite about it ROXY: offering u sustenance n rest n all ROXY: but you look like shit ROXY: i just wanted to catch up on the whole heinous war situation were in and maybe check in on e/o before leaping strait to the real n actual nonsexual manual labor favor i have in mind for u JOHN: oh.

Hey, she can’t help looking sexy she’s too good at it.

Is the manual labor moving the crashed cars? Can’t Roxy pull that off on her own, or... banish the cars to the void or something? (Oh, but WOULD she want to do it on her own when she can rope in John and bring him down to earth by giving him a useful task? And admittedly his strength and wallet would make things easier.)

John feels his shoulders unbunch. Of course. Yeah. He’s almost embarrassed by how relieved he feels. So what if his ex wife wanted to hook up? Shouldn’t that be a situation he could navigate? Don’t people like to find solace in human physical connection during dire times? Why did the idea of it make his mind white out in panic more than, say, any number of the traumas he just experienced?

Probably some gender stuff mixed up in there too, June.

He doesn’t know, but he believes Roxy that he must look pretty haggard. He probably feels haggard? Maybe sitting down will feel better.

Just put your feet up yeah

> (==>)

WHAT A CUTE IMAGE

JOHN: sorry. like i said, my "how to react to stuff" meter is completely fucked right now. ROXY: thats fair bud

she’s used to being patient with you don’t worry otherwise you never would’ve gotten this far

ROXY: real fast i do need to do a quick takeback of all that shit i said last time we talked about janey not being literally the most evil person we knew or whatever ROXY: i guess i was hopped up on arguin or somethin since that was before we hit our conversational vibe bc of course u were right and i shoulda listened

Ouch. Yeah, we saw just lately just how far off the deep end she was. (Where was that funny upd8 reaction art summarizing the bit where Kanaya was holding Tavros hostage and Jane was transparently debating “hmm do I let my son die?” and Kanaya and Tavros were just looking at each-other flat-mouthed nervous? I REALLY wanted to share that but I don’t usually want to reblog or put most stuff HS^2 not under a read-more, for spoiler purposes, usually.)

ROXY: im just glad ur ok ROXY: or like alive JOHN: yeah, jury's still out on "ok" but, you know. ROXY: ya ROXY: u said ur house is gone?? JOHN: yep. JOHN: completely. ROXY: jeez ROXY: i would ask how ur feelin but like the answer 2 that has got 2b "prtty bad"

Talk it ouuuut~~ get those feels out there and articulated john

JOHN: yeah. JOHN: i mean. JOHN: no? JOHN: it’s weird. JOHN: it feels like it should be a bigger deal, I guess? JOHN: like it’s my HOUSE. JOHN: but mostly it always felt like my dad’s house? JOHN: and when i started living there after i moved out of here, it was like i crammed myself back into whatever was left of my kid self? JOHN: and it didn’t feel good, but it at least was familiar, you know? JOHN: like living there let me feel closer to my dad, trying to be like the way i remember him, or like how i remember him wanting me to be, or something? JOHN: and i didn’t realize how much i hated doing that until i saw it all go up in flames. JOHN: so i guess i could have used my powers to stop the fire and save whatever was left of the place, but i couldn’t bring myself to do it. JOHN: like some fucked up part of me was glad i got there too late? JOHN: so i just sat there, watching, trying to figure out why watching my house burn down felt like i was being released from prison. JOHN: and even now i keep trying to explain it away, as though it’s because of how fucked up everything else is that it made me feel good. JOHN: but that’s just bullshit. JOHN: it DID feel good. JOHN: i DO feel free. JOHN: sorry.

I was kind of saying some Breath/Blood stuff at the time of him losing his last tie to his stubborn sticking-to-his-kid-self bit? Except now we’re mixing it in with June Egbert and his gender-identity questions too.

ROXY: no need 2 apologize ROXY: we just delved in2 my whole gender thing last time so it seems fine for u to have a turn JOHN: i didn’t say it was a gender thing.

Oh shit

ROXY: well no i just meant like i did some sharing ROXY: like referrin 2 the topic i brought up when we chatted last ROXY: but like now that u mention it ROXY: *meaningful pause* JOHN: … JOHN: i JOHN: ROXY: lol well we can move on 2 the favor part if youd rather ROXY: stick a lil pin in that topic n come back 2 it when u have had sleep

Are you just INCREDIBLY incisive Roxy or have you and John talked about this before?

ROXY: like i said the other day its not like this shits figureoutable in 1 sitting anyways JOHN: yeah... ROXY: sooooooo ROXY: movin on

It’s just fine for Roxy to slow-roll this yeah, if she’s going to pry open that door a little

ROXY: dont be mad but theres a part of the house u didnt know abt the whole time u lived here JOHN: what? ROXY: yea ROXY: i got a secret lair ROXY: for my sciences

OH FUCK YES SCIENCE LAB, of COURSE Roxy would want a cool science lab basement because she always wants a cool science lab basement

ROXY: and i get to it via a transportalizer underneath our bed ROXY: which is 2 heavy 2 move by my lonesome so i just needed to borrow some o your aforementioned powers of wind

Okay no. Wait. What the fuck?

First of all, as funny and MSPaintAdventures-y as furniture being in the way of things is, why would you block it with a bed too heavy to move, but,

Second of all, more importantly, how is a GOD-TIER ROXY not strong enough to lift a heavy bed?!?!?!? Either she’s lying to get John involved in things or this is a gendered cop-out because these characters are superheroes at the TOP of their echeladders, given obnoxiously powerful video-game strength and athletics only to then have ascended into DEITIES. God-Tier Roxy could probably have lifted a bed like that when she was SEVENTEEN! And now she’s an ADULT, out-of-shape or otherwise! If this were a whole CAR I might be willing to handwave it, but just a heavy BED?!? And none of the GUYS are going to have this much trouble lifting a bed like this, are they?? This just feels like following classic cartoony gender tropes in the complete absence of these characters’ super powers, what the fuck, and also Roxy if you didn’t make it Transportalizer-only access you could have given it an entrance you could phase through with your fancy powers to get to. FUCK.

This feels stupid.

ROXY: so if u dont mind woosh away JOHN: uh ok, well... JOHN: a secret science lair, sure, i can deal with that. JOHN: why not! JOHN: it doesn’t work out great when i do the windy thing indoors, though. ROXY: aight then no wind bending just use your mangrit

Roxy flexes, the corner of her mouth pulled up into a familiar grin. John feels his guts, so recently calmed, twist up into knots again. Her eyebrows shoot up and the smile loosens. He must have shown something on his face.

You’re already THIS sensitive about gendertalk?

ROXY: ok or just like push when i push ROXY: we both got sick muscles ROXY: no other adjectives necessary JOHN: yeah ok. ROXY: on 3?

Please, please reinforce the idea that they both have sick strength, because they fucking do and the idea that Roxy actually a hundred percent NEEDED John to do this is BS.

> (==>)

JOHN: holy shit? ROXY: sorry to lop yet another huge scoop onto ur lil brains ice cream revelation sundae JOHN: so wait, if this thing's always been under the bed, how’d you get down here before without me? ROXY: well thats neither here nor there john JOHN: i mean it is kinda. Here. ROXY: fine ok checkmate ROXY: i dont ACTUALLY need ur nerdgrit for this escapade ROXY: like im sorry but i said it ROXY: i mostly just wanted to see you and show u wats down here

THANK FUCKING CHRIST.

If that wasn’t actually just a lie to get him involved I was going to stay SO mad. Of COURSE Roxy can move a fucking BED no matter how heavy it is. OF COURSE.

ROXY: and also uve been ~sent for~ JOHN: ok but like ROXY: john i am inviting u 2 my inner sanctum ROXY: i am literally bringing out the word "sanctum" in case u werent already clued in 2 how cool this is ROXY: so do u wanna go into my secret lair or wat JOHN: yeah!? JOHN: yes? i guess? ROXY: aight good

Yes John of course you want to stop fighting it

ROXY: then as they told me in the hospital before lil h a was born ROXY: just push

eyeroll, but yeah, of course

> (==>)

Oh cool, sprite form version of her loungewear.

> (==>)

Sorry for my compulsion to post every full-frame image of Roxy in this awesome outfi-WERE YOU KEEPING CALLIOPE UNDER YOUR BED THIS WHOLE TIME?!?????

That’s like... almost a fucking metaphor isn’t it???? For the relationship you preferred in the other timeline and possibly THIS one TOO or

ROXY: hey callieee i got him ROXY: o damn john sorry i shoulda also told u callies here weve been hangin out again ROXY: 1 more freak for ur bean

Oh huh, so this isn’t an always thing. And these two can get close in more than one timeline where it would’ve worked out nicely. :)

JOHN: oh it's ok, my bean feels pretty well adjusted to freakage at this point so keep them coming if you like! ROXY: k cool i will JOHN: do i get to know what that big thing under the sheet is? ROXY: hmmmmmm no JOHN: oh ok. JOHN: are you sure? i mean, it seems like a pretty prominent feature of the room. JOHN: space. JOHN: wherever we are. ROXY: and a totally mysterious n COMPLETELY inconspicuous feature it will have to remain for now ROXY: we r kinda in a hurry here fyi ROXY: and by that i mean ROXY: we are in precisely the amount of hurry that means im excused from having to a that specific q rn JOHN: right, sorry. JOHN: i will pay no attention to the object behind the curtain. ROXY: u catch on fast egbert ROXY: anyway theres more cool info coming so just follow me

I don’t have any big theories. Is it just the Hiveswap device or something? If Calliope helped with it it’d help explain the Cherubic theme.

> (==>)

JOHN: so... this is all downstairs? JOHN: it seems like you had a lot of work done. ROXY: well no not x actly ROXY: were in the old meteor JOHN: under the house??? ROXY: ok so ROXY: in hindsight it may have been a bit misleading 2 say like ROXY: "downstairs" ROXY: in reference to a place which is hells of buried underground and may not actually be literally under the house ROXY: but there is no time to explain all that rn john so instead im going to refer u to my adorable little green friend here CALLIOPE: #U_U# ROXY: (hehe) CALLIOPE: *AHEM* CALLIOPE: hi john! CALLIOPE: long time no see. ^u^

Cherubs just really like dark cavelike places full of weird tech don’t they.

> (==>)

THEY’RE SO CUTE

JOHN: oh, uh. hey callie! JOHN: it sure has been a while huh. JOHN: now that i think about it, the last time the three of us hung out like this... CALLIOPE: was when i was aggressively third wheeling yoUr prenUptial coUrtship? CALLIOPE: if yoU dont mind, john, i'd rather not rehash that period of oUr lives. CALLIOPE: it was more than a little painfUl for me. JOHN: oh. JOHN: god, jeez, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to-- CALLIOPE: hee hee john i am only pUlling yoUr leg, don't worry. CALLIOPE: if anything i was personally a little thrilled with how things shook oUt in that respect. CALLIOPE: imagine, if yoU will, a yoUng cherUb raised in solitUde, whose only solace was the convolUted and tUmUltUoUs romantic schemata she projected onto her only friends from another Universe. CALLIOPE: and then fUrther imagine that this yoUng cherUb, throUgh varioUs even *more* convolUted contrivances, ended Up in the company of those selfsafe friends as an eqUal participant in their sphere of social discoUrse! CALLIOPE: it is a joy the like of which yoU possibly cannot fathom. u_u

Reinforcing that things turning out this way was in fact the FANTASY that Calliope was writing over in the Canon timeline. Just, heavily, HEAVILY implied that the Candy timeline is -- or at least originated as -- Calliope’s fanfiction as a Muse of Space, and its competition for audience interest with canon is the essential conflict between alt!Calliope and Dirk (or Dirk and Andrew Hussie).

CALLIOPE: so to pUt it simply, getting to experience sUch emotional drama myself was an impossibly enriching experience. CALLIOPE: possibly a first for my species! CALLIOPE: it's actUally qUite interesting, if yoU ROXY: *nudge* CALLIOPE: oh, right. yes. i'm getting a little carried away, haha. CALLIOPE: argh, i'm sorry, this is not how i planned to begin this vital conversation.

Vital conversation? What sorta truth-bombs are coming?

CALLIOPE: but to sUmmarise, what i was trying to say is: CALLIOPE: don't beat yourself Up aboUt it john. CALLIOPE: besides, hUman divorces are even more fascinating than i had ever imagined, and being able to witness yoUrs in motion was an honoUr. CALLIOPE: so i consider Us aboUt even at this point. JOHN: hahaha!!! JOHN: okay, well that's good to know! CALLIOPE: ^u^

Holy SHIT that was savage! And we’ll NEVER know whether or not she really intended it so savagely, either.~

JOHN: so um... JOHN: i hear that there's this big secret thing you wanna tell me about? CALLIOPE: oh right, yes of course! CALLIOPE: let me jUst say first of all how thrilled i am that yoU're on board. CALLIOPE: i wasn't sUre if yoUr natUral inclinations woUld have preclUded yoUr coming to such a place as this, and yet here yoU are. CALLIOPE: this whole endeavoUr will be *so* mUch easier with yoUr help.

Uh oh.

Hopefully babies aren’t involved.

JOHN: oh! well, shucks. JOHN: not really sure what that means but i'm just glad to be of use somewhere, haha. JOHN: which, speaking of somewhere, CALLIOPE: ah right, right. yoU're probably a little cUrioUs as to where the dickens we are. CALLIOPE: how much do yoU know aboUt black holes? JOHN: um... like, the big space things? CALLIOPE: they aren't always big actUally, and in fact their relative smallness is practically their defining qUality. JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: bUt okay i think we are on the same page. CALLIOPE: so, what if i told yoU that we are inside of a black hole right now.

Oh dear, we’re getting into the canon/noncanon divide?

JOHN: um... JOHN: like, HERE? JOHN: we just transportalized into a black hole? CALLIOPE: no, i mean, what if oUr whole WORLD was inside a black hole. JOHN: ok.

Yeah, that’s gonna be John’s reaction. “ok.” Pretty much inevitable.

CALLIOPE: earth c, or at least oUr version of it, has, from the moment we crossed the victory threshold, been inside a black hole. JOHN: ok. CALLIOPE: and not just any black hole, bUt the very black hole in which the green sUn Ultimately met its demise, allowing oUr victory in the first instance! JOHN: huh! ROXY: ("huh!") ROXY: (rofl my fucking ao egbert) JOHN: (shhhh!)

And Roxy enjoys his non-reaction reactions as much as we do, hehe.

CALLIOPE: bUt, paradoxically, the critical moment which determined its capture within the black hole happened *after* that point. CALLIOPE: i refer of coUrse to yoUr decision not to retUrn to the mediUm and fight my brother. JOHN: wait, wait. JOHN: you mean, the meat and candy thing? JOHN: oh my god. JOHN: you mean i actually DID make a mistake that day. CALLIOPE: well, that's not exactly what that-- JOHN: ugh, i fucking KNEW it! JOHN: i'm so sorry. JOHN: i'm so sorry that i put the earth inside a black hole everyone. ): ROXY: john ROXY: listen ROXY: u have got to get out of this mindset i am begging you JOHN: ):

Yeah shake him out of this shit.

ROXY: your choice literally didnt matter ROXY: the whole thing was symbolic in the first place ROXY: literally symbolic in the case of the picnic i mean come on ROXY: it was just some steak and a plate of candy suckers JOHN: oh. CALLIOPE: i mean, i wouldn't go so far as to say that the meal we shared was unimportant, given the sacred significance of the two options i presented. CALLIOPE: but yes, yoUr choice of snack was infinitely less important than the choice which it presaged. CALLIOPE: and even then, calling it a choice woUld be sorely misleading. CALLIOPE: think of it like a coin flip. CALLIOPE: the series of events that led to Us being trapped beyond the event horizon of an Ubermassive black hole could be considered "tails", while the events which would have occUrred otherwise could be considered "heads". CALLIOPE: since both were possible, and paradox space is the way it is, they actUally both happened. and we jUst "happened" (hee hee) to get tails instead of heads. JOHN: you mean we ended up with the bad possibility. CALLIOPE: not at all! since both possibilities depend on one another's existence, it really doesn't make sense to call them "right" or "wrong". they both just "are". JOHN: o...kay... CALLIOPE: u_u

Yeah, it’s going to take a bit more than that to convince him he didn’t make the “wrong decision”.

CALLIOPE: i realise that this may be a lot to process. CALLIOPE: it's easy to forget that this wasn't obvioUs to everyone from the beginning. CALLIOPE: anyway, the reason i went on this tangent in the first place was to explain that the space we are standing in right now has a special significance, in that it is the location which corresponds to the black hole's singUlarity. JOHN: oh, wow. JOHN: um. JOHN: ok so, sorry if this is a dumb question to ask suddenly, but what does being inside of a black hole actually... mean for us? JOHN: is that bad? JOHN: is it like in movie, um, JOHN: shoot. JOHN: roxy what was that matthew mcconaughey movie from your earth that we watched? ROXY: u mean interstellar JOHN: RIGHT. JOHN: the one with the organ. JOHN: man. i cried at that movie so much. ROXY: lol u can say that again ROXY: iirc at least part of y u got so weepy was the fact that u couldnt believe a version of earth existed where ppl got 2 watch more mcconaughey films than you JOHN: listen. JOHN: i simply don't think you all appreciated the gift you were given. CALLIOPE: i don't believe i'm familiar with this particular film ^u^;; ROXY: oh dont worry cal you didnt miss much JOHN: (gasp)

This is all gold

ROXY: but the important point is that no its not really an interstellar type situation here egbert ROXY: ur not gonna enter a weird time vortex and change the trajectory of a little girls life with the power of love JOHN: aw.

Dammit, now we have to be on the lookout for that possibility. Or it did sort of already happen more than once to John. ...Whatever.

CALLIOPE: to go back to your original question, john. CALLIOPE: it's not strictly speaking "bad" for Us to be inside of a black hole, mUch thoUgh that contradicts most of what anyone knows about them. CALLIOPE: of coUrse, if we had fallen into it, that woUld be a whole other kettle of fish. CALLIOPE: the tidal forces woUld have stretched Us all into spaghetti and then ripped us apart! CALLIOPE: bUt the natUre of oUr arrival was more akin to simply "being" here, sUddenly. one moment we were not, and the next moment we were, and somehow always had been. CALLIOPE: in everyday, practical terms, being inside of a black hole has very little bearing on Us. CALLIOPE: i mean, the natUre of space and time is a little finicky in here, bUt for the most part it doesn't seem to be anything too oUt of the ordinary. CALLIOPE: bUt beyond that, it means that we are sealed away from the rest of existence. CALLIOPE: oUr sphere of inflUence is limited to the sphere of the black hole's bounding horizon. CALLIOPE: as far as everyone else is concerned, we might as well not even exist! JOHN: is there no way we could let anyone know that we're in here...? CALLIOPE: almost certainly not!

No? So this doesn’t have to do with the divide?

CALLIOPE: there are very few ways for anything to escape the kind of predicament that we are in right now. one of them is to be an all-powerfUl being with control over the very fabric of space, with the energy of two Universes at yoUr disposal. CALLIOPE: in which case, escape woUld become rather trivial, if a little Unscientific. JOHN: ok. i am going to assume that we can't just do that. CALLIOPE: yoU've hit the nail on the head, UnfortUnately. U_U CALLIOPE: the method i described was the one employed by my alternate self, who yoU may recall crashed through the event horizon in the body that once belonged to jade harley. CALLIOPE: she departed through a pUnctUre she created in the black hole's surface shortly after consUming my brother, a deed which provided her with the necessary "oomph", and which was frankly rather breathtaking to watch. =u= CALLIOPE: bUt Upon her departUre, the rift closed for good. as far as i can see, there's simply no way for Us to commUnicate with the world oUtside the black hole.

What the heck? Calliope SAW all this? Is this her Muse powers at work, letting her observe these things, or was she there? And John certainly did NOT see ANY of what Calliope just said happen.

CALLIOPE: i woUld certainly be very sUrprised to find oUt that anyone had managed sUch a thing!

So we’re going to find that out if we haven’t already. Maybe something to do with the way Vrissy just conks out narcoleptically?

JOHN: ...right. JOHN: so... let me just get this straight. JOHN: knowing that we're inside of a black hole... does that actually change anything? JOHN: like, can't we just go on living like normal? CALLIOPE: oh absolUtely not. CALLIOPE: i don't know if yoU've noticed john bUt this world is on the brink of a total cataclysm. JOHN: oh.

Um, what?

CALLIOPE: oUr exclUsion from the overarching coUrse of events which governs all reality means that oUr existence here is liable to dramatic and violent Upheaval. CALLIOPE: to pUt it another way, becaUse nothing in here "matters", we are likely to be sUbjected to things which are a bit bats in the belfry, for no reason other than it's totally insignificant to the wider canon of reality. CALLIOPE: and mUch thoUgh i am personally titillated by some of the conseqUences of this predicament, it is a degrading way for Us to live. u_u JOHN: that's... certainly one way to put it, yeah...

No plot-armor for your entire timeline, I guess, yep. Outside of canon, we can imagine and write about ANYTHING happening to the characters, or just drop their existence entirely, much like a doomed offshoot timeline. It’s a plot stability that depended heavily on the threat of Lord English and being trapped in a story, and without it things are bound to see a BIT chaotic (or “degrading” if you view it as subjected to the whims of fanfic writers, certainly).

CALLIOPE: at first, i believed that this was simply necessary. Us playing tails to oUr coUnterparts' heads, the black to their white, and so forth. CALLIOPE: bUt over the years i have come to the conclUsion that this is simply not kosher. ROXY: its total bs is what it is CALLIOPE: right, yes. CALLIOPE: a steaming pile of bUllshite. CALLIOPE: and so we have decided that something needs to be done aboUt it.

Ah fuck. You’re going to regulate non-canon? “Canonize” it? Is the fact that you eventually succeed at whatever it is you’re trying to do part of why we have the story presented to us in this bifurcated structure?

ROXY: this is finally where u come in jegbert ROXY: we gots quests for yous CALLIOPE: hee hee, yes. CALLIOPE: or *a* quest, to be specific. JOHN: oh boy! ROXY: (this fkin nerd i s2g)

Roxy and Calliope setting him on this quest as a Rogue of Void and a Muse of Space feels fitting.

JOHN: i'm not sure how i can go about freeing us from a hellish space prison, but i'm up for giving it a try i guess? JOHN: i have... literally nothing better to be doing at this point. except for maybe hanging out with harry anderson. ROXY: nice save lol

YEAH WE’RE STILL GLOSSING OVER HOW YOU LEFT HIM UNPROTECTED, JERK

ROXY: but u dont need to worry abt busting us outta space jail tbh ROXY: thats not ur problem to fix JOHN: oh. JOHN: i'm... not sure i follow, then. ROXY: i mean yeah ur gonna obvs facilitate it in a sense ROXY: but only by going and busting the person who can actually help us outta normal earth jail CALLIOPE: we need yoU to free vriska from the clUtches of oUr misgUided friend jane, and bring her here, to the singUlarity. ROXY: weve been calling it the plot point CALLIOPE: yes, the plot point is a key part of oUr plan. CALLIOPE: as far as we have been able to sUrmise, the only remaining method for escaping oUr grim confinement depends on leveraging the UniqUe properties of this location to create an event of sUch catalcysmic proportions that it simply cannot be contained within the black hole any more. CALLIOPE: something SO dramatic, so hyper-relevant, that it becomes ontologically impossible for anyone to ignore it. CALLIOPE: for that, we need an individUal of sUfficient narrative cloUt, so to speak. CALLIOPE: and to liberate her, who better than the embodiment of the aspect of freedom itself? CALLIOPE: ... CALLIOPE: phew. okay, i'm finished. CALLIOPE: CALLIOPE: sorry, that took longer than i expected to go throUgh.

..............................

OOooooh, kay.

Whatever this is, it’s going to be really weird and PROBABLY infuriating and/or shippy, and I’m probably not going to like it. Plus it seems like it’s some sort of inverse belated canonization of some other black-hole-rescue theories I went on about at some point. Although, related to that link, “aspect of freedom” if anyone wasn’t paying attention! That’s a (sorta-)canon mention of the purpose of it!

They’re going to attention-wh-- attention-hog themselves out of the black hole so that they’re “considered canon” too, or close enough. Huh.

ROXY: what r u talking about cals that was great ROXY: i could listen 2 u plotsplain for years CALLIOPE: oh you >u< ROXY: fyi this was why i wanted u to get a move on eggbread ROXY: so callie could have more time 2 infodump ROXY: thats love bitchhhhhh JOHN: hahaha. JOHN: ok, well, i think i understood all that?

Love with who? Callie, John, both?

In reality, John isn’t sure what most of this means. But on balance, it feels okay? He’s gone back and forth about a hundred times in the last week about where his place in everything is, so he might as well ride this out. Plus, the last time a Lalonde kind of told him to do something, he thinks that he chose not to, and look where that got him. And it’s not like he has other plans. He may as well do this! It’s at least going to get him involved in things again, if nothing else. He turns to go, and then hears a sound. It’s the sound of feet and knocking on doors, echoed through stone and digital static.

Oh shit. Is Andrew trapped behind some fourth walls behind the curtains.

> (==>)

Oh RIGHT also that DEVICE is where they want to bring Vriska. Are they going to overturn part of canon itself with a super-retcon thus making this timeline unbelievably relevant or--? Maybe make all the PESTERQUESTS canon or something?! I don’t know. Maybe they’re INTENTIONALLY starting the game like Vriska wanted to??????

Guh, this is something so big that I don’t WANT to theorize about it, do I.

JOHN: did you hear that? ROXY: wha ROXY: oh yeah uh ROXY: i may have messaged rose and kan and jade to check on them too ROXY: so its prob onea them showin up ROXY: they don’t need to know bout all this tho ROXY: we got time to chat with them b4 u go get vriska

No, even if it’s a knock at the somehow-top-level-house-even-under-buried-- oh, right, maybe it’s covering in part a monitoring system that looks up there. But still, part of that sound was DOUBTLESS these two hiding something, all standing in front of the curtain like that.

JOHN: i’ll go stall em. ROXY: thx babe ROXY: oh is it 2 soon for that joke or JOHN: no, weirdly enough, that one’s fine. ROXY: oh good ok see u up there soon!

How is calling your significant other “babe” not cool REGARDLESS of gender?! Like wasn’t that always cool? --Oh wait is it because they’re not together or... but... guh, I don’t know.

Anyway, see y’all after the holidays at least.

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #spoiler #spoilers #Roxy Lalonde #John Egbert #Calliope

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 270: Harry Potter Rules

Previously on BnHA: Present Mic punched Ujiko in the face! It was awesome. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo of it. Meanwhile Endeavor saved Mirko’s life by setting her on fire (reason #15 why I will never become a superhero), and Aizawa did some sexy Spider-Man poses for our viewing pleasure while fighting the rest of these Noumus which are still annoyingly refusing to die. Anyway but back to Present Mic, the undisputed MVP of this chapter. Because you see, in addition to the punching, he also used his Loud Voice attack (literally the actual attack name; Horikoshi will steal all of my jokes and leave me with nothing) to smash open Tomura’s Noumutank! Which I really thought was going to immediately lead to Everyone Dying, but apparently I was wrong! Anyways so yeah, right now Tomura’s just lying down all heart-stopped and not-breathing. Which seems very anticlimactic, BUT I JUST HAVE THE CRAZIEST FEELING that maybe, just maybe, the super powerful villain lad who just spent the last three arcs slowly upgrading his bad self just in time to wage war on the world as the story reaches its climax, might not actually be dead though.

Today on BnHA: DON’T MIND THAT OMINOUS ORGAN MUSIC PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND, IT’S NOTHING, IGNORE IT. Ahem. So first of all, as some of the bolder among us dared to speculate, Tomura is not, in fact, dead. He’s still very much kicking it with his nipple-less pecs and truffula tree hair, putzing around in his mental landscape filled with crumbled buildings and disembodied Theatrical Gesture Hands. For some reason he doesn’t have shoes or a shirt in his mental landscape, which was a very interesting choice on Horikoshi’s part, but we will speak no more of it. Anyway so to sum things up, Tomura’s family is all “TENKO WE LOVE YOU” and he’s all “oh hey” and then AFO fucking appears and he’s all “COME HERE MY BOY” which is exactly as creepy as you would expect, and for some fucking reason TOMURA ACTUALLY DOES COME HERE. And lol it turns out Ujiko gave him AFO. Like the quirk. Yes, that quirk. So long story short, Tomura is about to be possessed by AFO’s evil soul or some shit, and to put the cherry on top, fucking Deku out of fucking nowhere, MILES AWAY, is all “HE’S COMING.” Because of course he can sense it, because AFOFA IS REAL, AND FUCK ME THIS IS ALL HAPPENING TOO FAST, FUCK.

I know this chapter has been out since like 1pm, but I’m not getting to read it until 5 hours later because for once in my life I was trying to be responsible and actually get some work done on a Friday. I thought this might lead to less oh-god-I-still-have-to-get-that-done anxiety hovering over my weekend, but instead it just led to oh-god-I-have-to-get-the-chapter-recap-done anxiety hovering over my now! anyways so this might be a bit rushed lol

(ETA: yeah turns out this wasn’t exactly the kind of chapter you could just read quickly and get on with your life lmao. so, then!)

what a nice panel of Present Mic taking out the trash

you heard ‘em fellas. the doctor is secured. good job everyone we did it, manga over, congratulations. now to cut away to a two-page spread of Dark Shadow comically smothering Dabi’s flames with a giant stock pot lid, and that’ll be that! what a wonderful, extremely short and strangely underwhelming arc in which we haven’t even seen the actual main characters do anything yet. but I guess we don’t need them since the main bad guy is lying dead on the floor! everything is just so fucking dead and secured!! do you think if I keep repeating it enough Horikoshi will finally be like “okay geez I get it” and reveal his hand already

Mic is now ordering Ujiko to power down the Noumu, which again, I’m sure he will definitely do without a fuss since after all the good guys have clearly won the day

OH SHIT OH FUCK

rip X-Less. gonna just take a moment here to imprint your beautiful face onto my memory before it turns into a pile of ash. your face, I mean. not my memory. well my memory more or less already is a pile of ash but that’s neither here nor there ANYWAYS

:’)

what are these little sound effects. I think that’s supposed to be a buzzing noise?? anyways whatever it is PLEASE STOP IT, I AM NOT HAVING A NICE TIME SO STOP

ffff Horikoshi sure has done an excellent job of setting the mood in such a way that all of these panels of X-Less doing incredibly mild things are sending my stress levels through the roof. like is anyone else reading his lines more or less like “WELP, TIME FOR ME TO DIE, ANY SECOND NOW, WE’RE REALLY DOING THIS, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING, HERE IT COMES”

(ETA: when is this poor sweet innocent man going to fucking die already.)

LET’S CUT BACK TO MIC ESCAPING THE IMMEDIATE VICINITY

I have the clearest mental image of Horikoshi standing by with a walkie talkie in one hand and one of those remote bomb detonation clicky switch thingies in the other, patiently waiting to receive the go-ahead once all of the important characters have gotten to safety

anyway so now Ujiko is talking again

no fear everyone this is just the beginning of his verbal noumu deactivation sequence. nothing to worry about. everything is fine

yes for some reason his code phrase to put all the noumus back to sleep involves going into rambling detail about his work researching quirk singularities and shit. it’s fine. it’s not a big deal. code phrases are just like that sometimes all right

just ignore the increasingly panicked look in Mic’s eye as he slowly realizes he was way too fucking keen to just leave the “dead” Tomura back there with his laser-eyed hero buddy. anyway so let’s continue learning all about the Quirk Illuminati or whatever the fuck

okay so... he faked his own death? 70 years ago, at age 50 or thereabouts? I mean, that’s interesting and all I guess. not saying I wouldn’t be thrilled to spend the rest of this chapter learning all about Ujiko’s boring evil life. I don’t need to say it because it’s implied on account of Ujiko sucks and is the worst. so yeah can we get a move on though

oh shit?!?

WHOSE NARRATION IS THAT IN THE BOXES TOMURA IS THAT YOU OH GOD OH GOD

also, comparing AFO’s smile to a buddha’s really sent an actual shudder of disgust down my spine for some reason lmao. I personally would have steered that comparison in a different area, maybe less to buddhas and more to Norman Bates from Psycho, but to each their own

oh shit wait up

okay but this is actually a pretty big revelation though, isn’t it? because it’s been hinted for a while now that AFO and Ujiko had some method of duplicating quirks (the fact that all the Noumu share the same regeneration quirk was the biggest clue, but there was also John-chan’s quirk, as well as Hood’s Muscular-esque quirk), but as far as I can recall, this is the first time we’ve had it confirmed. though to be fair I wasn’t joking when I said my memory really has been shit lately sob

anyway so for real though, can you really call it a BnHA chapter if you’re not spending a good chunk of it being hopelessly confused over the ownership of some ambiguous thought bubbles. WHO IS THIS. I do seriously feel like it’s Tomura, because he’s the wrathful one, but another hallmark of a typical BnHA chapter is me constantly questioning everything I know as I muddle my way through

(ETA: yeah I’m pretty sure it was him. still impressive how vague it is though! it could also potentially be Ujiko, Mic, or even Deku. hopefully Caleb’s translation on Sunday can shed some more light on this. though he wasn’t really helpful last time this happened lol.)

SOMEBODY PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

didn’t... you just... say that “preservation” was your quirk?? what do you mean that you wanted it?? CAN YOU JUST FINISH YOUR SENTENCES LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

anyway so here’s a summary of this chapter thus far

present mic: okay goodbye forever x-less

x-less: what a strange thing to say! :) also is it just me or is this machine fucking staring at me

present mic: turn the noumu off please

ujiko: seventy years ago... society... singularity... he’d be 120 years old now...

??: [REPULSIVE FEELING EW WHO’S TOUCHING ME]

ujiko: all for one has the smile of an angel...

??: [SON OF A BITCH I’M SO FUCKING WRATHFUL]

ujiko: my quirk... preservation... the truth is... my quirk... preservation... the truth is... my quirk...

all caught up?? grand. also btw is anyone else super disturbed by the fact that Ujiko recognizes Mic as being “Kurogiri’s friend”, like holy shit though? how would he know that. I can’t think of any implications of this that aren’t super disturbing tbh

anyways back to -- LOL WHAT THE

Horikoshi Kouhei: [furiously scribbling notes to himself at 3am] BUT WHAT IF THE FOLDING CITY FROM “INCEPTION” HAD MORE GIANT HANDS

jesus christ. is this like some mental representation of what shit is currently like in Tomura’s mind? lots of crumbly destruction and traffic lights and the house his father built (isn’t it? I feel like it looks familiar), and SO MANY HANDS, HE JUST LOVES HIS HANDS

anyway so at this point it’s a coin toss whether or not anything in this fucking chapter is ever going to make any kind of fucking sense! but here I am voluntarily along for the ride while Gene Wilder sings that creepy boat song right in my ear!

DSFKLDSJ

ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF SOMEONE WHO HAS BEEN FLOATING IN A JAR FOR THREE MONTHS TBH. that is some luscious quarantine hair

SDFLKJSDLFKJSLKFDHLKSDJFLKJLKSDJL:FKJSDL:KJ

(ETA: that Tomura in the top left may be my new favorite panel. look at him. all he is is a nose and chin and ~*~HAIR~*~.)

HANAAAAAA AHHHHHH OH MY LORD OH MY LORD! OKAY I’M FINALLY PAYING ATTENTION NOW FOR REAL! NO MORE JOKES! EVERYBODY SHHHH!!!

FFFFFFFFFF

“LOOK AT ME I’M A MAIN CHARACTER I CAN HAVE STRANGE VISIONS AND TALK TO DEAD PEOPLE IN MY DREAMS, SOUND LIKE ANYBODY ELSE YOU KNOW?” TOMURA SHUT UP I DON’T HAVE TIME TO ANALYZE THIS SCENE THEMATICALLY RIGHT NOW I’M TOO BUSY BEING SAD ABOUT YOUR DEAD SISTER WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY CALCULATING THE ODDS OF THIS SOMEHOW BEING FORESHADOWING FOR HER NOT REALLY BEING DEAD. OH GOD, OH FUCK YOU GUYS, I’M FREAKING OUT

WHAT KIND OF YOUNGER BROTHER DOESN’T CALL HIS OLDER SISTER “NEECHAN” TOMURA WHAT KIND OF ANIME CHARACTER ARE YOU

AT THIS POINT HIS HAIR IS ITS OWN INDIVIDUAL CHARACTER WITH THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS WOW

HORIKOSHI PLEASE STOP SHAKING THIS CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE OF SIBLING FEELS SO VIGOROUSLY I AM SO TERRIBLY AFRAID OH GOD

“BY THE WAY TENKO I JUST HAVE TO SAY, YOUR MAN BOOBS ARE SERIOUSLY IMPRESSIVE AND YOU SHOULD BE VERY PROUD.” YES HANA I WAS JUST GOING TO SAY. HOW ASTUTE OF YOU TO POINT THAT OUT. BOY HAS BEEN HITTING THAT BOWFLEX

WTAF IS HIS HAIR THOUGH SERIOUSLY??!

IS IT JUST ME OR IS THIS DIALOGUE BUBBLE ACTUALLY COMING FROM THE HAIR ITSELF. TOMURA. TOMURA BLINK TWICE IF YOU ARE IN DANGER

SJJKJSKJSW

TENKO IT’S ME YOUR GIANT MOM I’M BEHIND YOU HONEY TURN AROUND AND LOOK HELLO HI I LOVE YOU DO YOU STILL WANT TO BE A HERO

ffff why is he so pretty all the time lately

you are very handsome with your billowy hair and ken doll abs, you. sure are having a lot of trippy visions for a dead guy too there

HEY!!!!

WHO SAID YOU WERE ALLOWED -- DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST -- ffffffffff I need to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes fuck

okay well. but since it is getting late I guess we’ll just pack these feelings up real quick and put them inside a box and neatly label it “feelings I have about Tomura having a vision of his mom and immediately turning back into his innocent little boy self in said vision as soon as he sees her.” not too sure about the contents of this box yet but I will have to explore them thoroughly at a later date

oh hey it’s this asshole

“THAT WAS TWENTY YEARS AGO, DAD.” jesus Kotaro. get over it

and also guess what, if you go and get Tomura all riled up so he wakes up grumpy and disintegrates the first hapless guy he sees, I will hold you solely responsible for that poor man’s death. I’m just warning you now

oh my

I remember this conversation going a bit differently the last time, but hey

LOOOOOOL

HIGH FIVE. PUT ‘ER THERE

WHY WOULD YOU LOOK SO SURPRISED LOL DID YOU NOT JUST TURN TOWARDS HIM WITH A SINISTER MURDER FACE LIKE TWO SECONDS AGO. LIKE WTF DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN

OH NO OH SHIT

FUCK ME, GUESS IT WOULDN’T BE A DRAMATIC BNHA DREAM SEQUENCE IF THIS ASSHOLE DIDN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE AT SOME POINT OR OTHER NOW WOULD IT

-- HOLY SHIT?!

RECORD SCRATCH, FREEZE FRAME??

holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. holy shit. holy shit

holy shit. fuck

...okay so

is this implying that AFO has been Noumufied? but that doesn’t make any sense, does it? he already had multiple quirks. what other advantages could there be to him becoming a Noumu. well whatever I’m just typing out all of my thoughts real fast for the time being and I’ll try to make sense of them later

or is it because he sees Kurogiri as a father figure? and AFO also?

or is he using Kurogiri’s quirk????? IS HE SOMEHOW WARPING INTO TOMURA’S DREAMS

because that third one, to me, is what this panel most looks like? Tomura says he looks like Kuro, but he doesn’t though. Kuro has a very distinctive face which this is very much lacking. instead it looks to me much more like one of Kurogiri’s portals, with AFO’s buddhaesque smile sticking out. so yeah. I got nothin’. except, again, fuck

(ETA: yeah I obviously have more thoughts about this now, but we’ll get to those in a bit.)

...

.......

-- !!!!!!!!!!LKJLK!JLKJ

oh shit oh shit oh shit

OH SHIT

NO BABY NO DON’T DO IT

GASP

THEY’RE TRYING TO SAVE HIM AHHHH

I HAVE LIKE TEN THOUSAND THOUGHTS IN MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW YET SOMEHOW MY MIND IS ALSO STRANGELY BLANK?? I DON’T EVEN KNOW?? I’LL JUST KEEP READING

KOTARO ARE YOU TRYING TO HELP HIM OR ARE YOU PULLING HIM TOWARD AFO??

OH HE’S PUSHING HIM BACK!! OH SHIT IT’S A WHOLE FAMILY EFFORT

THEY’RE TRYING TO SAVE HIM AFO IS GOING TO TAKE HIM OVER AND THEY’RE TRYING TO PROTECT HIM OH GOD OH JESUS

BABY TENKO EYES OH MY GOD HE LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE DEKU THAT I THOUGHT IT WAS DEKU FOR A MOMENT

NO TENKO!!!

FUCK -- DOES HE NOT CARE? HE ACTUALLY UNDERSTANDS WHAT’S ABOUT TO HAPPEN BUT HE DOESN’T CARE?? IS HE TRULY SO PROFOUNDLY MISERABLE THAT HE’D GO AHEAD AND ACCEPT THIS FATE WILLINGLY

NO SOUNDS. NO WORDS. YOU COULD HEAR A PIN DROP IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOW

except that I have the most incredible, chilling, disturbing, electrifying feeling that my mental soundtrack is about to start blaring AFO’s theme from the anime on full blast...!

LOOOOOL SOB OH FUCKK

THE MOST TERRIFYING, DRAMATIC KIP UP YOU’VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE!! THIS IS IT, IT’S BEEN REAL FRIENDS, THIS IS WHERE WE DIE

-- ARE YOU REALLY, TRULY, GENUINELY SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW

NOW OF ALL TIMES IS WHEN WE FINALLY CUT TO THE TRIO, I’M CAN’T, I’M FUCK

AND THAT’S THE END AHHHHH

holy shit holy shit holy shit. wow

okay so. I don’t really have any sort of neat and tidy way to wrap up this hot mess of a recap lol. so, just... have a whole mess of all of my stupid whirling thoughts

those first four pages really did nothing to brace me at all lol

okay, so. here’s my understanding of all this, I guess. basically we’re going full Harry Potter rules here. AFO horcruxed his quirk, and from the looks of it, a piece of his soul (perhaps even the main piece) along with it. he then passed it on to Ujiko to implant into Tomura

horcrux!AFO then wakes up, and takes over Tomura. so then my understanding is that he’s going to be possessed by him. and I also got the impression that he’s fully aware of that, but just doesn’t care at this point. he knew his family was trying to warn him, but he didn’t care. and that look in his eyes when he disintegrated them just seemed so fucking resigned to me, though. jesus

but now the more interesting thing! so we can liken Tomura to the resurrected Voldemort from book 5 and onward, reborn after transferring his power into a new vessel. which would go a long way toward explaining how AFO was able to sense what was happening from all the way in Tartarus; because if we liken it to Voldemort and his horcruxes, it would mean that he still has a connection to them (similar to the connection between Voldemort’s mind and Harry’s)

but so now comes the really interesting thing -- what does this then imply about the connection between AFO and Deku? because you’ll recall that AFO alluded to a similar mental connection back when Deku first activated SIXQUIRKS. and now we have Deku somehow being magically aware of AFO’s sudden resurgent presence in this chapter. but why?? if the reason AFO and Tomura share a psychic link is because of a shared quirk, why would Deku also be experiencing the same link? the answer is, he wouldn’t -- unless he, too, had the same shared quirk

in other words, I think All for One for All is fucking confirmed you guys. I can’t think of any explanation for this other than that OFA is also a horcrux quirk. a little piece of AFO broken off and embedded in his brother, and then passed along through the generations. and now residing within Deku

anyway. so that’s a hell of a lot to ponder lol. I guess we can at least be grateful for the fact that we’re not waiting two weeks for chapter 271 like Hori originally planned. can you fucking imagine. what a fucking asshole lol

133 notes · View notes

pinktatertots99 · 3 years

Note

🔥 Feelings on the canon ships of Homestuck?

Send Me a 🔥+ a Topic, and I’ll Tell You My Honest Opinion About It

god am i gonna need to go with the sequals too? just og or all ships that’re considered canon by the end? whatever i’ll just go in order in what might be the ‘canon’ ships from all three of these categories. this is gonna be fucking long so anything and everything is under the cut. also i’m SO not gonna add hiveswap that can be its own separate ask. so:

roxygen: it’s a cute ship...but the sequal vers is garbage considering how inconsiderate roxy is to john’s feelings and his house burning down like damn rox this is the guy who sat with ya as ya mourned doom rose’s death give the guy some fuckin time himself.

rosemary: also cute ship...sequal versions are fuckin godawful tho. their barely a thing in meat from wha i can gather and then there’s candy...oh CANDY kanaya deserves better fuck this sense of her sayin she’s over it idc if it was off screen, even then half the cast ate stupid pills during that time so WHY must i be surprised that this is wha happens?

dave/kat: i dun like it. in either universe. meat is just perfect gay bois who have occasional deep talks and literally do nothing else while candy they split up thanks to jade which, geez ya guys must’ve been shit to tell her to fuck off like come on. og hs wise i barely consider them canon if we only get pictures and them just being on equal footing on quadrant talk. not to mention dave implied to be crushing on jade and JOHN not karkat, idk where this couple even came from other then love triangle situation with terezi but like, that’s barely much of a reason to become canon. i’d go with em bein pale/moirails more.

jadedave: i’m guessing candy and meat i thought meat implied they were dating but may aswell. so....it sucks but thats because candy and meat suck, meat dave’s basically cheating on her i didnt hear any implication they broke up and she’s like...chill??? and then there’s candy where she literally forced him and kar to break up and dated after dirk apparently died, i do not like the implications of this whole thing. course candy dave is dead and a robot now so...anyways canon wise dave had a crush on her and if jade does like him i’d hope it’s not cause of davesprite cause despite both being dave’s they were different. it’s cute otherwise.

davepetajade: it’s...cute? i guess? idk i kinda found davepeta a bit...idk overwhelmingly overrated? like i know where their popularity came from but readin the series now after all that hype i dont really see it anyways tho it’s basically davespritejade with nepeta in the mix. and idk nothin implied much of nepeta liking jade, or talkin to her much. and davepetasprite is a mesh of both so idk. it’s a ship with cute fanon works of em hanging with outfits but that’s bout it.

janejake: i hate it. legit. this is disgusting and completely throws out jane’s character. like even in the fixed timeline the talk she had with dirk probably still happened on the god bed’s and how she acknowledged wha she thought was wrong on wantin jake’s kids and so on trickster still happened and how she also realized she might’ve overhyped jake. but lets throw it ALL out the window to force jake in an unhappy marriage in both universes and possibly force him to stay in candy due to having tavvy if i’m reading the implications right. even then jake isn’t good for jane either both got their own needs this ship would’ve been sunked in canon and WAS but the sequals are beyond it so maybe that explains it but it disgusts me.

roseterezi: guess in meat specifically. yeah i kinda dont...care for it, like i still cant tell if rose and kanaya broke up or if she just fucked off without breaking up either one is fucked up on kan’s behalf. even then i just dont care for their kismesis it got brought up once and that was it.

jaderose: candy wise i guess even tho it was a fling. it disgusts me still mostly because of kan’s behalf on bein fucked over and both goin through a ‘surrogation’ process without her notice. like fuck this shit the jaderose fans deserve better.

roxycallie: idk if this one’s canon but it’s heavily implied callie lives with roxy least in candy. it’s cute, cant deny it even in og it was pretty cute, dont really care for candy vers tho but then again maybe their not a couple in it idk what’s canon couples anymore.

johnterezi: literally fucked in meat universe and john has kismesis feelings for her in canon. it’s...interesting, idk tho i feel like it’s one sided on john’s side.

ms paint/spade slick: i cant deny it’s cute, he’d least know how to treat a lady but god i’d hope it wouldnt be his only defining trait with her. also want ms paint to call his bullshit out pls and thanks.

dirkjake: honestly i cant tell if their STILL canon in og or not god forbid the sequals. in general though...i dont. i honestly dont really like em together much. they seem like the type to least stay friends but idk bout another relationship would be a good idea for em. maybe later down the line but otherwise canon wise they need a break.

and now for the canon one timer ships this involves any ships implied, uncomfirmed, ex-relationships, crushes, etc:

arasol: it’s cute, best ship. their quadrant was never confirmed but regardless their cute. sol tho in the sequals deserved better then to get abandoned by aradia goddamn.

fefsol: also cute, i live for both of em bein ass’s together.

erisol: oh boi this one...this was...yeah i cant even deny they wouldnt be too healthy, i like lookin at fanon ways tho for em. canon wise tho yeaaaah no these guys definietly wouldnt work.

gamtav: it’s...cute but boi gamzee needs some help i think.

gamsol: -sollux did imply he either wanted a kismesis or matesprit with him in one of the flashes- again same as gamtav.

aradia/equius: BIG NOPE nope nope nope equi that’s weird wha ya did never do it again thank fuck aradia hasnt been around him since.

karterezi: their actually kinda cute, looking back on em they could’ve worked. stupid doomed timeline bullshit.

daverezi: also kinda cute, idk tho if i got flushed for em tho i get more pale vibes but it was semi-a thing.

kanvris: it’s baaaaad kanaya deserves much better and vriska never seemed much the type for cementing into a relationship.

vristav: even worse, like i’d like to thank fuck tav one up-ed her in the end cause fuck wha he had to go through.

karmeenah: it...could be cute? maybe? only iffy part is the ages, i thought the dancestors were like sixteen tho since the kids said they were teenagers even tho they were at the time about fourteen? idk tho if eighteen is considered an adult in alternia or not tho it’s kinda implied to be? anyways tho it’s just off puttin maybe a bit tho.

meenahvris: it’s kinda cute, it was atleast, idk lookin back it does feel more unhealthy.

rufidama: baaaaaad i love rufi but he’s got some bullshit he needs worked out and damara deserves someone better.

rufihorr: just as bad as above, both deserve someone better or atleast horrus does with some therapy on it rufioh i think should just chill on relationships but it’s so obvious their not meant to be.

mitula: it’s cuuuuuute i cant deny it, ...okay fanon vers is canon is barely anything and tula does give more pale implications for tuna but with how protective she was over damara near him it’s sweet, but god do i wish canon tuna gave more feelings for tula.

kantula: it’s...creepy. like it’s so obvious the vantas bois cant communicate well but kankri’s crush feels almost pressuring on tula when he kept goin about them and goin “oh but we’re totally friends and i’m celibate so it’s okay its whatevs” like kan go to a corner give tula some air to breath.

crotuna: BIG NOPE cronus needs to learn fuckin boundaries thirsty fish bastard.

should i even add cro//eri due to the fact he literally asked an eridan out? regardless gross, ew, no, i’ll take the fanon ampora brothers anyday canon i didnt fuckin need that thx.

porrnea: it was implied to be more of a fling. idk considerin aranea’s track record i cant really say i’d trust her in many flushed quads. and porrim seems the type to have hers open and not a closed off thing so idk they got different cases.

aranea/jake: i cant deny it’s fuckin cute, i’d would’ve loved if they tried to do somethin but aranea was definietly uhhh not a good choice for jake. least she backed off when he didnt wanna be kissed but man yeah, it was cute while it lasted.

kurmeu: i cant deny the idea kur forced himself quiet due to hurting meu hurts me in a sweet way but as of rn them bein ‘pale’ and him mind controllin her when we dunno if she’s alright with this or not is...disturbing.

vristerezi: i am HIGHLY doubtful this is canon considering everything but i guess i gotta cement this. i dont see em as canon in og or sequal wise since vris is still gone in both, even then i dont like, see it, i see it but idk man i like em more pale then pail.

erifef: honestly no. both are much too different for a relationship, kinda glad they uh...got cut short cause honestly even their moirailship wasnt healthy what’s to say a matespritship would? on BOTH sides mind you.

rosejohn: thank karkat’s shipping board. anyways, i think their cute cause fuck it rose is a bi-con to me, canon wise probably wouldnt work but i’ll take fanon.

vriseri: kinda glad they got cut short of their kismesis cause boi eridan deserves a better one with how shit vriska was in breaking up with him.

johnvris: it was cute, i cant deny i’m soft over how the two talked things about vriska’s life and john’s it’s just kinda cute. it’s obvious tho canon wise with wha john went through it wont work out. would’ve loved if they became moirails tho but o well canon is god i guess.

spadePM: i dont like much of their implications, would be an unhealthy relationship regardless considerin spade’s flushed and PM’s pitch, they deserve some therapy and other people.

dadbert/momlonde: their cute i like the implications of em, sad they died though, it was cute while it lasted.

meowrails: may aswell count moirails in this shipping mess. anyways their cute, they gimmie sibling vibes course equius early into it was so...not a good moirail.

kurtuna: i guess it might be cute moirails? idk tho with kurloz’s implications it concerns me.

gamkar: as moirails...karkat was fuckin shit at his job i cant sugarcoat it. i get where it’s from he’s not gam’s lusus and shouldn’t be forced to check on him during his time of gettin high and such, i get they were kids, but god gam kinda deserved a better moirail. and then later on in the series it gets more fucked up between kar gettin stabbed by him and both in a pretty unhealthy moirailationship to the fixed timeline where gamzee is just shut into a fridge and kar doesnt fuckin care, like dude, wow. gamzee was bad yeah but damn, harsh a tad.

terezigam: as a kismesis it’s almost disgustingly unhealthy to me and honestly terezi deserved better and gamzee maaaaybe shouldn’t get a kismesis, ever, unless he can sort his shit out -the sequals tho wont do that lol-

minorly gonna count johndave in this: idk if i can see john reciprocating for dave so dave’s crush on him almost kinda hurts, especially since fixed timeline dave’s john is well, dead and our john is probably still different from his john, has angst but man i kinda dont mind it as a one sides crush it’s nice confirmation of dave bein bi atleast.

nepetajasper/jasprose: i cant see it, it’s disturbing i guess. i like em more as friends but jasprose is probably more creepy bout it.

signless/diciple: i think considerin the implications they were fuckin adorable and deserved the best.

summoner/mindfang: it’s kinda sad considerin its implied mindfang’s love for him might’ve been one sided, they could’ve been cute tho.

orphanor/mindfang: probably sounded like the best kismesis’s until he murdered dolorosa.

dolorosa/mindfang: BIG NOPE i dun like the implications.

condence/orphaner: since it’s implied orphaner had a crush on her, gonna say tho big nope considerin condence is a bitch.

condence/lord english: its hard to decipher their relationship in canon, but to cover all my bases it’s big nope to me somethin bout it makes me uncomfy despite both bein bastards.

#home stuck #hs #the pink one speaks

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

Text

“Never out of practice” - Chapter 1

Summary: When Darcie’s father loses an important case, a killer seeks revenge, by kidnapping the entire Angel family. Though John thought that he was officially retired, he has to save his Darcie and her family, because he can’t lose her.

John Wick x OFC Darcie

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of a miscarriage.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s officially October. I’ve always really liked it when it’s autumn again. The only thing is that it’s getting darker earlier on and I’ve never been too keen on the dark. The first year when I owned the cafe, I would be so terrified walking to the bus, that eventually I kept hailing cabs, because dealing with that stress on top of owning a cafe, was too much for me at the time.

Thankfully I have a very tough boyfriend now, who loves to pick me up. Today is no different, except that we go to my parents. For the first time in what seemed like forever, my parents have a night off and they really wanted us over for a late dinner.

Today it’s Jennie’s turn to close off, but somehow Raye managed to stick around. ‘When is your next date?’ Jennie asks.

‘Tomorrow,’ Raye answers, ‘but I think about cancelling.’

I stop in the middle of cleaning a table. ‘Jen, did I hear that correctly? Raye Clarke is thinking about cancelling a date?’

Jennie nods. ‘I’m still a little shocked. I can’t believe this is happening.’

‘Very funny,’ Raye growls, looking actually annoyed. Geez, what is up with her? ‘It’s just, he sounds so stupid. I was hoping his looks would make up for it. His looks were the only reason that I swiped right. But talking to him and calling with him, he is really stupid.’

For Raye to say something like that, means that either something really bad happened or that she is growing. ‘Are you okay?’ I ask.

She sighs. ‘My brother is coming home next week. My parents are really looking forward to it and they keep calling me, demanding I should at least stop by.’

Jennie and I exchange looks. We know Alex Clarke pretty well. He was about a year older than us, but somehow always managed to bully us through high school. I never understood why a nice girl like Raye had a brother like Alex. Alex would always make racist Asian jokes against me and he once cut off two of Jennie’s braids, causing her to shave her entire head..

‘I hate that guy,’ Jennie admits. ‘God, your brother is so fucking annoying.’

‘And he is introducing us to his fiancée.’

‘That bonehead has a fiancée?’ Jennie exclaims. ‘How is it possible that he is fucking engaged and we,’—she gestures to her and Raye—‘are single?’

Raye has been sad for too long, because she literally shakes it off. She always does that. Being sad isn’t something that happens to her a lot. She always says that she’d rather be fake happy than real sad. I really don’t know if that is such a healthy way of dealing with your emotions, but okay. ‘It’s not until next week,’ she states, ‘so no need to dwell on it. I’m going to cancel that Tinder date and you and I, Jennie, are going to hang out.’

‘You can’t just expect us to hang out together, last minute. Maybe I already have plans.’

‘You don’t,’ Raye says. ‘You honestly don’t have plans, like ever. I know you.’

The door opens and when we all look up, I see my handsome boyfriend in the doorway. Tiki and Oreo rush to me and when I crouch down, they push me on my back, trying to see who can lick my face the most. ‘I missed you guys too,’ I squeal and wrap my arms around the dogs. ‘Oh my God, I love you too, but you have to let me get up. John, please help me.’

‘Come here, guys,’ he says, patting his legs, so they look up and let go of me.

I manage to push myself up, only to see Oreo sneaking back to me. I scratch his head, causing him to smile at me. I love that cute smile of his. He is such a big fat baby, always curling up beside me on the couch and always wanting to get in bed with us, but John sends Oreo and Tiki out every time we go to sleep. Somehow he got through an entire year of dating without letting Tiki sleep in our bed and now that we have Oreo, he hasn’t changed his opinion about it. I personally wouldn’t mind if the dogs were in our bed, but John says that he wants me all to himself when we’re sleeping and to be honest, I think that is really sweet.

John walks up to me. ‘Hi sweetheart,’ he says, before kissing me on my forehead. ‘Ready to go?’

‘I am, let me just get my bag.’

I rush to the kitchen and after I collected all my stuff, including my jacket, I give Raye and Jennie a big hug. ‘Say hi to your parents from me,’ Jennie says.

‘Will do. See you two tomorrow.’

‘Bye mommy, bye daddy,’ Raye says and I glare at her. ‘It’s funny and you like it, admit it.’

I send her the finger and with John—who is enjoying this way too much—and our dogs, I walk to the car. While the dogs get in the back, John puts my seat in the right place, but he stops me before we can get it. ‘What is it, honey?’ I ask him.

‘I really missed you.’ He gives me a long kiss and afterwards pulls me in a tight hug.

This isn’t really how he usually is. I frown. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Can’t I show my wonderful girlfriend how much I love her?’

I lean back, so our eyes meet. His dark eyes are so full of love and I can’t help to fall even more in love with him. He is so gorgeous and my boyfriend. Sometimes I still can’t comprehend it. ‘Of course, but… I don’t know. Just wondering.’

I get in the car and when John sits next to me, I still can’t help but worry a little. He has a frown between his brows and when he holds onto the steering wheel, he is also a bit tense, his knuckles almost turning white. When he feels me staring at him, he looks to the side. ‘What’s up, sweetheart?’

‘I love you, you know that right?’

John smiles. ‘I do know that and I also know that you are worried, but please don’t. Going to your parents still makes me a bit nervous.’

‘Why is that? They love you, especially my mom and when you let my dad drive around in your Mustang, he instantly wanted you to be his son in law.’ I place my hand on his. ‘No need to be nervous.’

John parks the car in front of my parents home, but I stop him before he can get out. ‘How about that when we get home and you’re still tense,’ I whisper, ‘I’ll help you relax a bit?’

His eyes widen and a grin appears on his face. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah, I think a back massage could do wonders.’

He laughs, placing his hand on his chest. ‘You had me there for a second. That is just mean, Darcie.’

I stick out my tongue. We get out of the car and with the dogs we walk to the front door of the house that I grew up in. The door flies open, to reveal both of my parents. My mom nearly pushes me aside to hug John. Mom always wanted to two kids, a boy and a girl. My father once told me that three years before they had me, they were expecting a boy, but in the seventh month of her pregnancy, his heart just stopped beating. They never knew why he never survived and when I asked her at age five why everyone had sibling, except me, she threw her bowl filled with soup against the wall and yelled at me that I should’ve never ask a question like that again.

When I finally got a boyfriend, she thought that she’d treat her son in law like a real son, but she never wanted anything to do with Eric. She hated his guts and at the time I felt awful for not liking her as much as I used to. I mean, Eric was my boyfriend, wasn’t she supposed to be happy?

But the way she loves John like he is her son, though he is only ten years younger than her, warms my heart. I know a tiny bit about his earlier life, how he was an orphan. The way he was welcomed in my family, I know it means a lot to him. When he met my parents for the first time and we got back to the apartment, he told me about how wonderful it felt to belong in a family.

He never really told me anything about Helen’s family, but I feel like sometimes I shouldn’t ask too much about her. I always feel a bit guilty after talking about her, I don’t know why.

But knowing that he was happy to belong to a family and that he would do everything to keep all of us safe (he said so himself), it made me realize once again that John is a good man and that I should never let him go.

I give my dad a hug. ‘I missed you, dad,’ I say to him.

‘Oh, munchkin, I missed you too.’

‘You look tired,’ I note, looking at his dark circles under his eyes.

‘Tough case, that’s all. Don’t you worry about me Your old man can handle it.’

⟢⟡⟣

‘Mom, really?’ I ask her, when I see there are only three chairs at the table. ‘We have four chairs, I know that.’

‘One is broken,’ she lies without skipping a beat. No wonder she is one of the best attorneys ever. For a second I believed her, but I know my mom and I know she’s up to something. My dad and her sit each on a chair, leaving only one left. ‘You can sit on your boyfriends lap.’

Oh my God, I thought once you weren’t a teen anymore, you wouldn’t be ashamed of your mother—guess I was wrong. ‘Mom,’ I whine, ‘please.’

‘Oh Darcie,’ she says. ‘I really like you two together. How do young people call it? Sailing?’

I’m visibly cringing. She always does that, trying to keep up with trends. It was funny when I was young, it was embarrassing when I was a teen, but now I’m thirty one, I really want her to stop doing that. ‘Mom, first of all: it’s called shipping, not sailing. Second of all: John and I are already dating, no need to force us together.’

John can’t hide his amusement. ‘Come on, baby,’ he says, sitting on the only chair left. ‘It’s not so bad.’ He holds my hand and pulls me to him. Knowing I can’t win this (and I’m definitely not eating my dinner standing up), I plop on his lap and my mother, who is a grown woman of sixty, hides her smile behind her hand.

‘I can’t believe you,’ I say to her, but I wrap my arm around John’s shoulders. Not wanting to give this sort of behavior any more attention than it should get, I turn to my father. ‘So, dad, how’s work?’ I ask.

‘It’s okay,’ he says. ‘I’m defending the family of Whitney Bell.’

I’ve heard about that case. Whitney Bell was a twenty five year old woman, whose ex-boyfriend brutally murdered her and dumped her in Central Park. I just didn’t know my dad was defending her family. But come to think of it, I barely spoke him these last few weeks and though I think my parents are doing a great job with the people who they defend, I barely keep up with it, even when it’s in the news all the time.

At first I was a bit nervous to talk to John about this case, since… Well… You know…

But he sat me down and for the first time, he actually mentioned his work, without me asking for it first. He told me that he only killed men who were better off dead than alive. He would never kill a woman or a child and it kind of eased my mind. Not that I was scared that he would murder me.

‘Must be rough,’ John says, before taking a sip of his drink.

‘It is. Family cases like this, it always pains me when I hear their stories. I asked Whitney’s parents to bring a picture of Whitney, to show the jury. Though I asked for one, they brought all their pictures they have of her with them.’ Dad looks at his glass and adds: ‘Parents always do that. I get it, you know. If something happened to you, Darcie, I’d be dragging every picture I have of you with me, to show the jury.’

‘I’m sorry, dad,’ I whisper, but loud enough for him to hear.

‘Don’t be, munchkin. It’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Dad smiles, but I don’t buy it. He is stressing out. ‘Tomorrow in the late afternoon we’ll hear how he is being sentenced for life.’ He wants to sound like he’s got everything under control, but he fails miserably.

John must picked up on his nerves too, because he suggests: ‘How about you and I take a drive in the Mustang after dinner, Christian?’

‘That would sure ease my mind,’ dad laughs and thankfully it’s a bit more real this time.

We talk during dinner about the customers, John’s book binding (causing my mom to say she has some old books) and our dogs, who are curled up beside each other.

John and dad are about to go for a drive in the Mustang, but before John leaves, he picks up Tiki, since she really want to go with him and he presses a kiss on my cheek. ‘I love you, sweetheart,’ he whispers.

My mom manages to keep quiet, but as soon as the front door is shut, she asks: ‘When are you going to give me grandchildren?’

‘Mom! What the hell?’

‘Oh come on, sweetheart,’ mom laughs. ‘I know you are thinking about it. I mean, you call each other mom and dad.’

‘When we’re talking to or about our dogs,’ I defend myself. ‘I know you want grandchildren, but please, don’t say that sort of stuff when he is around. I’m afraid it might scare him off.’

‘Why?’ she asks. ‘I mean, he loves you dearly and I bet he wants kids with you. I mean, who wouldn’t?’

I can’t believe that last makes me blush. ‘I know that, but it is so far ahead in the future, I don’t want to think about it yet.’

Mom wraps her arms around me, giving me a kiss on my cheek. ‘Okay, I’ll shut up about grandchildren. But you are my favorite sail.’

‘Ship, mom, it’s called a ship. And just say couple, please. There is no need to “fit” in with the cool kids.’

‘Yet you knew exactly what I was talking about.’

‘That’s because I have high school kids hanging around the cafe all day every day. I need to fit in with the cool kids.’

We plop on the couch and Oreo stretches himself out, waddles over to us and sits between us.

‘Mom, be honest with me now. Is dad really okay?’

‘You know how he is,’ she sighs. ‘Gets too wrapped up in a case.’ Mom squeezes my cheek and whispers: ‘He’ll be fine after tomorrow, like he always is after he has won a case.’

Mom and I cuddle up with Oreo, who has been the sweetest companion so far, ever since we rescued him from the shelter. He eventually is sitting a little behind me on the couch, his head placed on my shoulder.

The front door opens. My father is laughing, but when I look at him, I see his eyes are swollen and a bit red. ‘Dad, are you okay?’ I ask him.

‘Yeah, sweetheart, I’m fine. Just hit my head.’

My mother stands up and wraps her arms around my father. ‘Oh nae wangjamin,’ she soothes, giving him a kiss on his cheek.

Tiki rushes to her big brother and jumps on top of him. He simply licks her face, not annoyed by her antics. He never is.

John walks up to me and scratches Oreo’s head. ‘Maybe we should go home,’ John says, ‘it has been a long day.’

I simply nod and when we announce that we’re leaving, my mom gives me a tight hug. When I hold my dad, I’m instantly worried again. This is not who he is, I hardly recognize him anymore. ‘I love you, dad and if something is wrong, just tell me, okay? I’m one phone call away.’

Dad nods. ‘I love you too, munchkin and I will call you.’

Taglist: @toomanystoriessolittletime @flhorah @allie1804-fan @cynic-spirit @raven-black102

#keanu reeves x oc #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x original character #keanu reeves x ofc #john wick fanfic #john wick x oc #john wick #john wick x original character #john wick x ofc #never out of practice

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creed-of-cats · 4 years

Text

Caerdroia Notes

-i misspelled this title like five times, thought I got it right, then autocorrect fixed it :(

-yes, please let Eight sleep, especially in the divergent universe. I saw a post (on Johannesvii's tumblr) that was talking about sleepy intimacy and the Charley and Crizz gently looking over him while he's sleeping is...d'aw :)

-I haven't really met Crizz before, but he sounds great, especially while being a sassy prisoner with Charley

-"bye" *falls asleep* pffffft

-"The mind blast, ooo really?" I chuckled out loud here, he's so unimpressed

-"Stop being ridiculous"

"I’ve tried not to but I just can’t stop, perhaps I should join a twelve step program" ASJFKDKSJJDJ

-"If you don't help me, I'll erase all your memories or your little transgressions, and you'll know it (several sentences about how Kroka will fuck himself up from this)...*quietly* Do I need to go on?"

Always love it when eight is quietly being an eldritch horror. I feel like he tends to do this a lot more then the other doctors, especially pre-time war ones.

-Eight is pissed and its great

-also yeah, Time Lord in a universe without time is...geez poor Eight

-why are there cows

-I’m confused, wtf is he saying

-ISNSIENS THERE’S THREE OF HIM??

-I THOUGHT THE "why would you be hallucinating anyways?" Was crizz but its...ditzy eight?

-"i thought we were taller" d'aw, he's a dumb bitch but he's cute

-pdkdinrieje Charlie's just like that John Mulaney quote "You know those days when you're like 'this might as well happen.'" But she crosses the line at an evil twin. And the asshole one is like "We cant have an evil twin if we're triplets, dumbass"

Ditsy Eight "Its quite pretty here :D"

Charlie sounding genuinely happy "Yes :D"

-so what's wrong with the somewhat normal Eight?

-oh is he just super pessimistic?? Depressed??

-"Oh alright let's vote...I had to vote to break the three way tie! D:<"

-pffft there’s too many lines, this is too funny

-TIGGER!EIGHT NO

-ha crizz is like "fuck these cows"

-I find it really interesting that the Nasty Eight was the one to automatically take charge

-STRING :D

-"Unpleasant plans?" "Yes" "Yess, they generally are :/" lol Eight is so tired

-"Why should I tell you?" "Just to be nice??" OSNDODJ THE WAY EIGHT SAID IT TOO

-"Not as an enemy...well as an enemy, but a friendly one. Have you heard of anger management classes?" *sounds of pain* EIGHT NO

-"You don't have feet D:<" *gets kicked*

-"Yes, I do. talk like a fool, but I always know what I'm talking like a fool about" Eldritch trickster vibes yesss

-I like when its acknowledged that despite all the bs and terrible things about Gallifrey, there's implications he didn't initially choose to leave it, and Gallifrey is still his childhood home. His own kind barely tolerate him and it hurts.

-and this is the last incarnation (at least until late 11?? 12??) with Gallifrey to go back to, yikes.

-side I really liked how he half chuckled half said "yes I do!"

-lmao Charley is like "if the doctor could stop being suicidal for like 3 seconds that would be great"

-Crizz and Charley have wonderful banter together, I'm growing to like Crizz quite a bit

-OH THANK GOD, CRIZZ ACTUALLY HAS BRAINCELLS AND A SELF PRESERVATION INSTINCT HALLELUJAH

-tigger!eight being like "do it, you won't, pussy"

-stop messing with Eight's memory, he really doesn't need this

-"Nooooo thank you" pJSIDBSI WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

-”I’M ALREADY SORRY, I WAS SORRY THE MOMENT I ARRIVED" ISHSUSBSUSBSHB

-Lowkey want to make am audio comp of lines from this, it's so good

-OHH IT'S THE ASSHOLE ONE "They keep a sharp eye on me...only, they're not here now" OOOOOOOOO

-(reminds me of 12's line in Face the Raven: "The Doctor is no longer here, you are stuck with me.")

-I feel like this is literally the personification of "Are you tired of being nice? don't you just wanna go apeshit?" This part of eight has an evil laugh, sounds a lot more like the master, and is here to get shit done and it's great

-D’aw they’re all so happy to be in the Tardis, and I’m really glad to see her after she disappeared in Scherzo :D

-”You’ve just never seen him happy.” :(

-The Tardis literally has time in her name, it must suck for her to be in a universe without time, and to have been separated from her boo :( Though from what I’ve heard about Zagreus, maybe its best they had a break from each other

#caerdroia #eighth doctor #big finish #8th doctor #dw #doctor who #classic who #crizz #c'rizz #charley pollard #the divergent arc

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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3 - First Come First Serve - Words: 2,788

"Here's her profile, Greg," Sergeant Donovon said, dropping a folder on her boss's desk.

"Clarissa Hughes, aged 32, brown and blue, 5' 5", No. 1 District, been on the force since '10, promoted to Sergeant in '17. Unmarried, unattached, no children, father deceased, mother living in Manchester, one sister in America." Greg sighed after reading the file. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. He never liked cases involving one of his own. They always gave him a migraine.

The scene yesterday was impressive even for someone like him who'd been in New Scotland Yard for over 30 years. The young woman had been found in her apartment, laying face down on the floor. A small bullet hole in the window revealed a sniper had been perched on the roof of a nearby building. While there were entry and exit wounds, they had not yet found the bullet to give to ballistics.

"There's not much to go on. It could have been random. Maybe she had one bad date with someone who was a bit off their rocker and-"

"Inspector," Anderson interrupted.

"Yes?" Greg replied, migraine now doubling.

"They found this at the scene." Anderson held out a Ziploc with a ruby red, silk handkerchief. It had no markings on it, not even a snag, save for the small, gold R embroidered on the corner.

"Where did they find it?"

"It was special delivered today with no return address or other markings."

"Now why would a woman, whose name does not start with R, order a monogrammed handkerchief."

"Bored!"

*bang*

"BORED!"

*bang bang bang*

"Sherlock! I swear you had better stop that or I will call Lestrade this time and tell him it was you who put the hallucinogen in Anderson's tea!"

"Fine!"

"Good!”

*thwap thud thwap thud thwap thud*

"Sherlock?"

"I'm being quiet!"

"What are you doing?"

"A bow and arrow are much more satisfying!"

"Oh -!"

"Torry! Guess what!" Erin called out to her roommate from the living room of their shared apartment.

"You're moving out?" She called back, teasing as usual.

"Haha, very funny," Erin deadpanned. "Really though, this is awesome."

"Did we get a case?"

"Better!"

"Two cases?"

"Torry!"

"Ok! What?"

"In exactly 1 month you and I will be in London, England speaking at the International Inspectors Convention."

"Wow! That's fantastic! I wonder if-" Torry paused. "Nevermind."

"Don't worry, Torry, I already checked," Erin winked. "He's scheduled to speak the day after us."

"Inspector, there's been another murder," Donovan announced, walking up to Lestrade in the break room.

"Ok," he replied. "Is it my division?"

"Yes, this time it was Amelia Walker. She was an Inspector in No. 3 District." Greg slammed his mug down on the counter.

"Walker and Hughes were two of our best inspectors! Have you found any connection yet?" The two grabbed their jackets and headed downstairs.

"Nothing yet. The landlady just reported her body. Anderson's there now with his team."

"Ok then, let's go." The two got in the car and headed off. When they arrived, Anderson rushed up holding a small envelope.

"Another one just arrived," He said. Lestrade grabbed the envelope and looked inside. Sure enough, another ruby red handkerchief with an embroidered R on the corner. "I asked the delivery boy where he got it from but he said he didn't know. It was a different boy this time too."

"Where is she?" Lestrade asked. They followed Anderson over to the body. "Cause of death?"

"Another sniper." Anderson showed them the bullet hole in a nearby window. Lestrade shook his head.

"Did ballistics ever get a lead on the gun?"

"Nothing," Donovan replied. "It's a standard sniper rifle but there are literally hundreds of those to try and track down."

"There must be something we're missing," Lestrade groaned.

"Ah! London! Doesn't it smell great!" Erin exclaimed, taking a deep breath as they stepped off the plane.

"It smells like airplane fuel. Let's wait till we actually leave the airport," Torry replied.

"Ok, grumpy. Geez, remind me never to take you on a flight again." Torry growled in reply but Erin just chuckled. "Let's go get our bags and head to the hotel."

"And go straight to bed. I'm dead."

The next day, the inspectors convention started. There were hundreds of private investigators, police inspectors, and a few other kinds of detectives. Torry kept her eye out for one specific "Consulting Detective" but there was no sign of him on the first day. They did however meet their hotel room neighbor, Frances Grant. She had been an inspector at NYS in London until she moved to Manchester about a year ago.

"Nice gal," Erin commented, walking out of their bathroom that night.

"Yeah. I wonder what that case she mentioned was," Torry replied from her bed, already laying down.

"I don't know. She said she was going to help her old academy friend investigate while she was here, right?"

"Mm," Torry agreed. "Must be pretty serious," She said sleepily.

"Are you really already going to sleep?"

"And why shouldn't I?"

"Seriously? We're in a hotel, got to bed early, have the opportunity to actually watch BBC from London and you want to sleep."

"Yes. You watch TV and tell me all about it when I wake up. I won't be able to stay awake to give BBC my full attention when I'm this tired."

"Party pooper," Erin teased as she plugged in her earbuds. Torry grunted in reply and went to sleep. 2 hours later, Erin was nearly asleep still watching late night mystery shows on BBC.

*CRASH*

"What the-" Erin startled awake. Looking at the TV she saw the detective on the show had just been shot. "Oh, should probably turn that off and go to sleep," She whispered to herself. After turning off the TV and unplugging her earbuds, Erin rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

"Wake up sleepyhead!" Torry yelled the next morning.

"Ok, ok, I'm up," Erin groaned. The girls got ready for the day, Torry dressing up extra fancy since a certain someone was on the program. They headed down for breakfast, where Frances said she'd meet up with them. She didn't show up though and the girls headed back to their room.

"I wonder why Frances didn't come down for breakfast," Torry mused, walking out of the elevator on their floor. Erin shrugged and was about to say something when there was a yell from down the hallway.

"Help! Help! Police! Someone!" A housekeeper cried out.

"What's wrong, miss?" Erin asked, rushing up to her in front of one of the rooms

"Sh-sh-she's dead!" The woman exclaimed. Torry squeezed past her, not noticing which room it was, and looked inside.

"It's Frances!" Torry called out to Erin.

"Oh no!" Erin replied. "I'll be right there!" Erin turned to the housekeeper and handed her a tissue from a box on the cleaning cart. "Why don't you wait in our room? I'll call the police and then they can take a statement from you once they get here." The lady nodded and Erin took her to their room to sit down. From there she called the police.

Meanwhile, Torry began investigating the scene of the crime. "Hm, sniper," Torry mumbled to herself, noticing the window. She walked around the body, examining it and taking mental notes. Suddenly there was a knock on the room door.

"Police!" Torry opened the door at once. "Inspector Lestrade," The man introduced himself. "Are you the one that called?"

"No, that would be my friend, Erin. She's in our room next door with the housekeeper who found the body."

"Are you here for the convention?" Lestrade asked. 'Last thing I need is some amateur messing things up,' He thought to himself.

"Yes."

'Dang it!' He mentally shouted. "Alright, have you moved or touched anything since you entered the room?"

"Really, Inspector, I wouldn't dare! This is a crime scene after all!"

"Ok, just checking," He defended.

"36, married, no children, lives in Manchester, originally from London. That much she told us last night. We had dinner together. She must have died sometime in the middle of the night. I'd say around 2am. Based off the stage of rigor mortis." Lestrade stared at her, surprised. He'd only ever seen one other person rattle off so many facts so quickly. "She was killed by a sniper through the window. I also noticed that-"

"Wait, sniper?"

"Yes. I believe I just said that."

"What's her name?"

"Frances Grant, she's an-"

"Inspector," Lestrade said sadly. "I went to the Academy with her." He shook his head. "Anderson, get me those two other files. Let's see if this one has a connection."

"I'm sure it does, Graham. You probably just haven't looked well enough," Sherlock drawled from the doorway.

"Did I invite you here, Sherlock?" Lestrade yelled.

"Not specifically," He replied coolly, waltzing into the room. "But I heard there was a murder," He said, eyes lighting up. "And I simply had to come!" He grinned.

"Sherlock!" A shorter man yelled from the hallway. "Where did you get off to?"

"In here John!" Torry was just about to say something, finally past the initial surprise that her favorite Detective was standing in front of her, when Erin yelled from the next room.

"Torry! Get over here!" She yelled. Torry, John, and Greg rushed over. "She's gone into shock, can you help me get her on the bed instead of this chair?"

"I can help you, miss. I'm a Doctor," John said.

"Please do, Dr. Watson," She replied. Turning to the others, she asked: "Are you with the Yard?" Lestrade nodded. "She was the one who discovered her body. You'll want a statement later, obviously."

"Ah yes, thank you, Miss-"

"Erin Blair. And that's Torry Star. We're America's only consulting detectives," Erin said with a wink. John's eyebrows shot up immediately. "Yes, Doctor," She continued. "I've read your blog."

"Speaking of Sherlock," Lestrade spoke up. "I had better get back and make sure he hasn't started world war 3 with Anderson."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to come back with you. There was something I noticed," Torry said. Lestrade nodded and the two of them went to the other room. Torry walks in first and, while Sherlock and Anderson are bickering, paces the room. 'Now, I need to check what's shining behind that chair,' She thought. Attempting to go to the corner to check, Torry finds Sherlock is blocking her path. "If you're not going to help investigate the murder, then get out of my way so I can." Torry states. She then pushes past him to examine what she finds to be a bullet casing. Greg had to bite back a laugh at Sherlock's face.

'I've never seen the man look so offended!' Greg thought. 'This will be interesting.' Just then, the hotel phone rang. "Hello, Inspector Lestrade," He said, picking up the phone.

"Inspector, we just had a package dropped off for Miss Grant's room. The boy asked it be delivered right away to Sergeant Donovan."

"Alright, bring it up." Once the package was brought up, Anderson and Donovan opened it carefully while Sherlock and Torry argued over what type of sniper's rifle shoots those bullets.

"It's another handkerchief!" Anderson exclaimed.

"Another?" Torry and Sherlock asked in surprise. Greg explained to them what had happened with the last two murders.

"There's a note with this one," Donovan said shakily. "Congratulations. You're next."

"Let me see that," Torry said, grabbing the handkerchief. "The sniper is a woman. Military or police training with that level of skill. I'd say about 37 with that handwriting. First name is Ruby. This handkerchief is Ruby red and has her monogram."

"Ruby Jones!" Greg exclaimed. "She went to the Academy with me. She failed though. She didn't like working with others. She was too competitive, always trying to prove herself. She had a high level shooting badge and I think she trained on that rifle you mentioned before. I guess she was taking her revenge."

"I'll put out a warrant," Anderson said.

"Thanks," Donovan said to Torry. "I don't know what to say."

"Really?" Sherlock scoffed. "You're thanking her! She did the same thing I do! Well, not as perfectly but still!"

"She's different, Holmes," Donovan spat. "You wouldn't understand, freak."

"And with that I wish we had solved the case a little later," Torry mumbled. Donovan didn't hear her, but Sherlock did. Though he couldn't hold back a slight smile at that, he still felt a bit put off at Torry stealing his spotlight.

Meanwhile, once the others left the room, John looked at Erin with a smirk. "What?" She chuckled.

"America's only consulting detectives?" He teased.

"I couldn't help it," She replied. "We are fairly well known back in the colonies," She said with a posh British accent, making John smile. "We got invited to speak at the convention yesterday."

"Oh! Of course! You were the guest speakers! I actually wanted to come and see you but Sherlock got stuck on a case. It was really only a 3 but I couldn't get away."

"Ah," Erin sounded in agreement. "Yeah, that's happened to us too. Torry and I work together on every case. If one's there, so is the other."

"So which of you is Sherlock then?" John teased. "If I may do a little deduction of my own, you said you read the blog, you're obviously both fans, so it would only make sense that you've tried to compare yourselves."

"Well done, my dear Watson," Erin grinned. "Yes, we've done that. But we don't line up with either of you exactly. I guess it depends on the case. Some Torry picks up on right away, some I pick up on, and some we figure out together 50/50. And we've had some pretty crazy cases too! Nothing as interesting as yours I suppose though."

"Sounds like you make a good team. I, erm, wouldn't mind discussing some of those interesting cases with you," He said casually. "Perhaps the four of us could go out to dinner this evening?"

"That would be lovely!" Erin said. Just as she finished speaking, they heard yelling from Sherlock and Torry in the next room. They rush over to see what the commotion was. Sherlock and Torry were standing toe to toe right next to the body. Lestrade, Anderson and Donovan were just watching in surprise.

"What makes you think you can just waltz in here and take over my crime scene?" Torry yelled, cheeks bright red.

"Yours?" Sherlock scoffed. "London is mine! You're just some American knock off!"

"Knock off! Well then tell me, why didn't you notice the bullet casing? Hm?"

"I hadn't looked there yet! I was just about to!"

"Week excuse from a man who notices everything!" Torry smirked. "Tell me, what's your excuse now?"

"Excuse for what?" He hissed.

"Dilated pupils, elevated heart rate, rapid breathing, shall I list more?"

"I could ask the same for you," He replied. Torry blushed even brighter but maintained eye contact. Suddenly, after a moment of quiet, Sherlock leaned forward and kissed her quickly. "I like you," He whispered. "Dinner tonight?"

"Ok," Torry squeaked, abit dazed. Sherlock spun around, coat swishing behind him.

"John, let's go, we have to get ready," Sherlock stated. John shook his head and Erin chuckled.

"I guess they're just more blunt than we are," Erin joked.

"It would seem so," John replied, blushing slightly himself. "See you tonight then. We'll pick you up here."

"Ok, John," Erin said. "Well, well, well," She then said, turning to Torry. "Solve the case yet?"

"And that's how Torry and I met," Sherlock stated. He smiled at his fiance who was sitting next to him.

"You forgot to mention how nervous you were that night getting ready," John adds, laughing. Erin and Torry chuckled lightly but Sherlock's ears tinted red. The older couple sitting across them by the fireplace smiled. Sherlock had brought John, Torry and Erin to his parents house to introduce the girls and make the big announcement.

"Well, we couldn't be happier for our son," Mummy said. "Or for you John. You're family too you know," She winked.

"So when's the happy day?" Sherlock's Dad asked. Torry and Erin were just about to reply but they were interrupted.

"Oh please!" Mycroft groaned. "Weddings are simply atrocious emotional events that I have no use for." Sherlock's face fell slightly.

"So I suppose our asking you to officiate would be out of the question?" Sherlock asked

"On the other hand," Mycroft said suddenly, a smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps I can make an exception just this once."

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

#sherlock bbc #sherlock x oc #john watson x oc #reverselock #sherlock #john watson

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mysaldate · 5 years

Text

On the topic of BSD mental issues..

Because a lot of people in this fandom just LOVE to bestow their own mental problems on characters and even go so far as to claim not a single BSD character is mentally alright, I went on a little rant to debunk this bulshit of a claim. If you’re one of those who support the “everyone is mentally ill because I said so” theory, don’t even bother reading this, please, and save us both the time.

If you do read, however, please keep in mind those are just my opinions and analysis and why I personally find the claim that everyone is mentally ill bulshit. You’re free to believe what you want but I’ve had multiple people come spurting out insults at me simply for not believing every single character is mentally diasbled.

First, our beloved ADA Atsushi - He's actually doing really well. Sure, he's not 100% ok but we were given no serious childhood trauma impacts (except for flashbacks that don't really... do anything to him mentally except for motivating him to do better which is, you know, not a sign of mental illness), he doesn't have self-destructive tendencies, he doesn't feel like he owes the society anything but he doesn't slip to nihilism either. His motivations are humane and sane and relatable. I mean, if anyone told you your friends would be in mortal danger if you stay with them, wouldn't you try to get away from them too? Dazai - Ok, Dazai is far from stable. He still handles his issues surprisingly well though and his constant suicide attempts are really played off as a joke, which is not the best way to handle them but it takes a lot of seriousness from it and kind of makes it hard to believe it's what he actually wants to do with his life. Especially since there are times where he goes out of his way to make sure he stays alive (Dead Apple being just one example). Kunikida - Arguably one of the most stable characters in the show. Some people claim he has OCD but have you ever seen an actual OCD patient? His love for schedules and hard time when they can't be kept is something that runs in my family and nobody has ever been diagnosed with OCD. People need to realize that having your life planned out is not a mental illness. Yosano - I'm a little more benevolent about Yosano, especially since she has a more psychotic side to her and she seems actually damaged by her childhood but I stiil stand my point that she is doing extremely well for someone who supposedly has a mental illness. It's almost as if the "insane" side of her was purposedly overblown for comedic purposes. Ranpo - I know a lot of people say he's autistic but I don't agree with that hc. Why? Well, I have a classmate who's not autistic and she's exactly like him. She's smart, almost genius, has great deduce skills and brilliant crime-solving abilities (tested multiple times with Black Stories or whatever that game is called in english) but she is unable to live on her own. She knows close to nothing about real life, skills used for everyday functioning and as for public transport, she only learnt how to use it recently and she's almost 19 years old. I also have an autistic friend who specifically said he'd find it insulting to hear that Ranpo is supposedly autistic. Tanizaki - I'm not sure what to say here, Tanizaki is a normal guy. Nothing special about him. He's willing to go great lengths for his little sister but I think anyone with younger siblings can relate to that. At least anyone who cares for their younger siblings. Kenji - Go on and tell me how Kenji of all people has a mental illness, I dare you. And if you pull out his cheeriness, you're obviously just too depressed to fathom that some people might actually enjoy life. Fukuzawa - Again, one of the most stable characters in the series. Say what you will but he's not unstable and his ability to stay calm at almost any situation except for when his kids are in danger is just further proof of this. Kyouka - I'd say she might have issues. My afforementioned autistic classmate pointed out that she feels autistic to him so there's that. Also her childhood visibly screwed her over. However, she's still surprisingly stable and normal despite all of that so while she might have some issues, they are greatly balanced by her strong will and natural personality. Naomi - I wouldn't say Naomi is 100% ok in the head but not to a point where I'd claim an actual mental illness. Sure, I'm not a doctor but nor is anyone who diagnoses her with whatever it is they diagnose her with. Haruno - And exactly what is wrong about Haruno? She's cute, positive, cheery, hard-working and supportive. And she gets scared in situations that invoke this. Literally NOTHING weird.

Next up is our dear Port Mafia Akutagawa - No denying it, Aku has serious issues. Again though, he's doing far better than most people with similar problems but that could just be due to him letting his frustrations out via murder. Chuuya - No issue found here. Sure, he's a little short-tempered but that's about it. A lot of people are short-tempered without being mentally ill. And he could be portrayed with some serious issues due to his origin and past. Gin - Do we even know enough about her to diagnoze her? All we know is that she's silent, a little shy and that she's always on odds with Tachihara. Make me a diagnosis from that. Higuchi - Aside from her massive crush on Aku, there's nothing weird about her. She probably picked the wrong job but she's willing to work hard anyway to earn her place there,, which is not exactly typical for people with mental illnesses. Hirotsu - STABLE PERSON. Just... what else is there to him? He is literally the voice of reason who commands the black lizard solely because he can actually keep them under control. Geez, there is literally nothing linking him to any mental problem! Kajii - This guy's got issues, no denying it. And I won't even say he could do worse because obviously he could but he's fairly close to being the insanest (is that a word?) he can get. Kouyou - Oh look, ANOTHER completely stable person. I mean, come on, she's been an executive since Dazai and Chuuya were 15, that's seven years. Clearly she couldn't hold her position if she weren't stable. Not to mention, we saw her being stable in stressing situations so. many. times. Elise - She's an ability. No comment. Mori - Yes, he has his issues. But he's the hypercompetent Mafia boss who stayed in charge for a very long time already and there's no sign of anyone overthrowing him any time soon, nor planning to because he's just a great leader, something he couldn't be if he was mentally ill. Oda - Do I even need to elaborate on this? Oda is very probably the sanest person we got, one who sees the wrongs of his past and does his best to overcome them and repent, all of which goes without him being depressed or self-loathing in the slightest. Randou - This has been talked about a lot. Randou is sensitive and impulsive and sometimes acts on emotions rather than rationallity. None of that makes him a mentally ill person. It just makes him a person, a human being we can all relate to. Ace - Ace is a selfish human being who thinks too highly of himself and is manipulative and abusive. Is that a problem? Yes, obviously. Is that a mental illness? Not necessarily and more likely no than yes. He does things for his personal gain and everything went his way for far too long for him to expect it to go any other way. And as we all know, power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutelly. Q - Does anyone really think Q is sane?

Now for the group that so many people dislike it’s honestly sad, the Guild Francis - Francis is, first and foremost, a very loving husband and father. He goes on this insane mission to Japan to obtain a mystical object he believes is real but never got any deffinite proof of. Is he naive? Perhaps so. And after he loses, he gets depressed and broken because he finds out his wedding ring disappeared, probably because his wife did something. That breaks him. And honestly? He has every right to break down. It's understandable and human and it does not make him mentally ill. Louisa - While yes, she is very shy and some argue she has some sort of anxiety disorder, all of this can be explained by the fact that she's practically a child. She's 18 dammit. Who could leave their home country at 18 only with an organization of older people, who also all seem very sure of themselves, while having no combat ability and nothing to really bring to the table? If she were mentally weak, there's no way she'd go looking for Francis after his fall, it's actually more likely she'd hurry back home, probably with tears and fear of being arrested if she were to stay in Japan for longer. Margaret - Name me one thing that makes you think Margaret of all people would have a mental issue. One thing. Most of her screentime is her being a vegetable. And while that is certainly a health problem, not a mental health one. Nathaniel - Hey, he was completely ok before meeting Fyodor. Being religious is not a mental health problem and f you if you say otherwise. John - Again, nothing unstable about John. He's not even that selfish, doing what he can to support his family and even picking up the remainings of the Guild to keep the people together and give them new hope because, y'know, hope is very important to people. Lovecraft - He's not even human. You can't apply human mental health logic to him. Herman - We've seen him for how much... 2 minutes total? And even from just that, he seemed like a calm and composed guy. No sign of mental problems whatsoever. Mark - He's hyper, that's what people say at least. But is he really? Kind of hard to believe when all we've seen of him is two scenes of adrenalin rush, one scene where he tries to lift the spirits of his coworkers and one scene where he just decides to go back home because this adventure is obviously over. No sign of mental illness here either. Lucy - A little more visible traumatic impact than with Atsushi and some abandonment issues, which are completely understandable and relatable. Not necessarily a mental illness. Poe - Ok so Poe doesn't feel well in company of others and he is a little psychotic when he gets too into his self-assigned role but 1) introverts are not mentally ill and 2) it's completely natural to get carried away when we witness the person we believe wronged us getting some karma back.

The one group that appeared for such a short time, yet everyone seems to love them, the Rats Fyodor - The most obvious god complex, clearly. He's not sane but he's stable so there's that. Nobody says he's ok, he's clearly not. But he's composed and smart enough to not let his issues control him. Ivan - Part of his brain is literally gone. He's not ok. he can't be. And unless part of your brain is missing too, you physically can't relate to him. Pushkin - Actually a stable, understandable character. Weak men are known through all of history to be the causes of major drama simply because their complexes over being weak lead to them finding joy in torturing the strong. It's not a mental illness, it's just bad character. Oguri - Clearly, Ogugu has issues. Call it survivor's guilt or PTSD or whatever you want, he has issues. Nobody is denying that. Still, he's doing fairly well when not desperatelly trying to seem evil.

I do not feel like doing the Hunting Dogs for the sole reason of me not liking them enough to focus on their mental states but they are pretty much lab rats, artificially enhanced humans and that alone should be enough to explain why I don’t believe in applying normal psychology to them. As for the Decay of Angels, there’s still much more to learn about them so I won’t get into that just yet. And when it comes to the governmental agents, I haven’t read the novels so I only know a bit about Ango and I honestly don’t see how anyone could think Ango has a mental illness.

I repeat again, these are my opinions, based on my experiences and what I’ve studied about mental illnesses (because believe it or not, I study about these things quite a lot). It doesn’t fit except for Tumblr romanticised versions of them and even those are iffy. You’re free to agree and disagree with all of this or with just certain parts but please don’t feel required to share your thoughts, I frankly don’t much care.

With that I bid you goodbye, at least until another thing prompts me to make a long-ass analysis almost nobody will read, nor care for.

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lenle-g · 5 years

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give me a cute short fic of jeff and alan together!!!!!!!!!!!!!! like some father son bonding moment and I know jeff boy hasn't appeared yet but I need the content

Ask Meme: I wish you would write a fic where…

Well, this… this is 90% not cute (with a cute ending tho I promise) but here on the Len blog it’s feels or death lads, feels or death. Also this is supposing the Space BoysTM and Scott goon the Rescue mission, and leave Gordon and Virgil to keep up with rescues onEarth.

His voice is morebooming than Alan remembers it. When he laughs he laughs with his whole body,shoulders shaking, knee slapping. He wonders if the grey of his eyes were alwaysthat shade? Were his lungs always so expansive? His tone so rich with love?

“Oh my god.Boys. Boys I can’t believe it, I…” Jeff’s got Scott’s arms around his shouldersand John, who honestly might actually be, oh god is that, laughing?, captured in a mean headlock. “You kids haven’t changed at all. Have you all beenok? Eating alright?” There’s a tussle between the three of them as Jeff goes toscrub his fist against ginger locks and John, with all the composure of a boyquarter of his age and an minute fraction of his usual sensibility actually squeals.

“Ha! Johnny! Who went and swapped your legs out for string noodles! Huh? Geez kid!” John struggles to freehimself absolutely ineffectually against his Father’s thick arms as he getscompletely ignored as Jeff turns to scrutinise Scott.

“Right then Scotty, how’re the Thunderbirds? Wereyou able to keep up operations? Lord Creighton Ward promised to be at yourservice if anything ever should happen but I can’t say I anticipated this.”Laughing he gestures at the dark, empty expanse of space above them. At thesharp silhouette the Zero-X2 makes parked alongside the wreck of the old one. “Boys,I can’t believe you’ve…”

It’s then he looks up at Alan,standing a little apart from them. The youngest Tracy is eyeing them almost nervously. His stare frozen inwide and disbelieving. There’s a pause of quiet between them as Jeff simply regardsthe young man and the young man regards him.

Jeff frowns.

“Alan?” He callsout, loosening his grip on John enough for his spaceson to wiggle free, hairrumpled and expression unsettlingly pleased about it.

Alan doesn’t move.There’s a beat of time. Scott frowns sharply at him, making gestures to comeover here right now from behind Jeff’s back.

There’s another pause.

“Hey, Allie?” Jefftries again, puzzled. “Is that you over there Sprout?” As if Lucy’s blues could possiblybelong to anyone but one of his sons. “Com’ere kiddo.”

Alan has only blurryhalf memories of the man stood before him with his arms open and there’sa tight, twisting sensation somewhere inside him that feels an awful lotlike the vessels of his heart tying themselves in knots.

“Dad?” There’s nothing Alan can do aboutthe way his voice breaks on the vowel. Nothing he can do about the way hishands are trembling.

His last fuzzy half memories of this man are of beingcarried up the stairs cradled close to a broad, warm chest. Of his Father’sheartbeat, strong and solid under his tiny hand. Of fingers in ducking-downblond hair and the press of a kiss to his forehead. Of a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, see you in the morning light’ that neverhappened.

“Oh Alan.” Jeff’s arms drop. His voice is very soft and is familiar inthe way only a faded photograph can be. His voice had become just a memory,something that Alan realises he thought he’d never hear again.It’s another one of his Dad’s ghosts.

Because that’s nothing new. Whenhis Father had disappeared Alan kept seeing his ghost everywhere. Not in any literal sense, but instead in the thingshe’d left behind. In the empty desk in the hall, the chair where only he wouldsit, in the bits and pieces of their Father’s life that Grandma, gradually overthe years, began to pack away. Alan remembers how the sight of John wearing oneof Dad’s old pullovers would twist something sharply in his chest. How so manylittle things that before would have brought to mind happiness and safety andthe warmth of his Father’s arms instead triggered a sharp, deeply burrowedanguish in him. He’s tried to put on a brave front, to hide his reactions fromhis brothers, never quite sure if they feel what he’s feeling too. They must, afterall, losing someone you love can’t be done lightly. But he’s never been braveenough to ask.

Loss is isolating like that.

John, his closest brother, had thrown himself intowork. Into stats and schematics and rescues. He became as much part ofThunderbird Five as Five was of him and the part of Alan that aches for hisFather aches for the old John too.The John before he’d had to pair up with Gordon and use pranks to get his attention. The one who spent time with himplaying games and joined in with his hobbies, the one before everything becameabout training. About preparing their youngest brother to face the perils ofspace and save lives. About making sure that if they sent him up into the blackhe’d come back again.

Everything was so, so different now, and he hasthis selfish, awful fear that’s been building the whole trip that theirFather’s sudden return into their lives will throw everything off all overagain. Alan doubts things will go back to the way they were before: after all,they’re all different and older and wiser now. Scott’s the only Field CommanderAlan’s ever known and they youngest Tracy doesn’t know if he’s ok with changingthat - let alone if Scott himself could ever step aside again. And yes, he doeswant John home more often, he wants to have his brother physically around and maybe Dad can make that happen but he doesn’twant John to lose something so importantto him. Their Father had just seemed so critical of John’s appearance and…What if Dad tries to force John down from orbit? Alan knows his brother is up there, not justbecause he adores it, but because it’s more importantfor him to be up there saving lives than down on Earth playing video games withhim.

Alan feels, frankly, kind of ill.

He can pinpoint in his head the exact moment that Johnbecame so distant from him and it involved an explosion over the South Pacificand The Hood’s dark laughter breaking up the recording. He’d been asleep whenit actually happened. But he’d seen the tapes.

They’d all seen the tapes.

And Alan would have given anything to see hisFather again instead.

And now here he is. And Alan Tracy doesn’t have a clue what he should do.

He becomes viscerally aware of the fact he’sshaking.

“Allie? Son? What’s wrong?” Jeff separates himselffrom Scott and John, both of whom are regarding their younger brother with a quiet understanding.Their Father crouches down next to his baby boy, aiming to level their heightsbut finding, surprised, that it puts him lower than Alan’s eye line. “I’m here now, yeah? I’mnot sure I agree with their decision to bring you out here when it could havebeen so dangerous, but your brothers did a great job piloting the new Zero-Xand…”

“I piloted it.” It’s the first time since theinitial shock that Alan’s properly found his voice and it comes out squeaky. “I… I flew the Zero-X2, D-Dad.”

A hand falls on Jeff’s shoulder, gently pulling himslightly out of Alan’s personal space. Alan relaxes only minutely.

“You’re looking at the most talented young pilotthe world has ever seen.” John tells their Father, with perfect sincerity.“Alan is a fully fledged member of International Rescue and has been runningmissions for three years now. We trained him ourselves. I don’t have enoughflight experience and Scott doesn’t have enough spacetime racked up for this.” John’shand settles on his little brother’s shoulder and Alan feels a rush of gratitudetoward him that takes his breath away. “He was the right man for the mission.”

Jeff looks from John to Alan and back, disbeliefclear on his face. He takes a moment to just stare openly at Alan, taking inthose wide, familiar baby blues and the soft blond curl of his hair. This youngman is so different to the child he left behind and Jeff is hit with the suddenrealisation that he’s missed a lot ofhis youngest boy’s growing up. There’s a firmness to Alan’s jawline now. He’s lostmuch of the baby fat from his cheeks and he’s taller, so much taller. If heshoots up much more he’ll not only surpass Gordon but maybe even Virgil.

“I…. kid.”There’s an awkward fumble where Jeff seems lost for words but then wide, warmarms pull Alan from John’s side and wrap tight around the kid’s shoulders,pulling him in to that broad, familiar chest. “I’m so proud of you.” Jeff chokes on the syllables and something in Alanbreaks down.

There’s a deep gasping sob from the littlest Tracy.

“I thought you were gone.” The teens fingers curl tight in the thick material of hisFather’s old International Rescue blues. “I woke up in the morning and theytold me you were g-g…” There’s a uncomfortable hitch in Alan’s chest and hebreaks down into monosyllables and broken sobs.

“Hey hey,” Jeff’s fingers smooth reassuringlythrough his baby boy’s hair, “its ok Allie. It’s all ok now. I’m here. You didit kid, you absolutely did it. I’m here.”

And actually, Alan thinks, as he buries his face inhis Dad’s shoulder and clings to him like he never wants to let go again, that’sall that’s really important.

Everything else will work itself out.

Dad is here.

#doopy doop doop have a bunch of FEELS #Thunderbirds #Thunderbirds Are Go #Alan Tracy #Jeff Tracy #TAG #Thunderbirds 2015 #Zero-X #John Tracy #Scott Tracy #Lenleg's Thunderbirds tag #hecke YEAH #hanaxsongs

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drunklander · 5 years

Text

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 411

This week, on Outlander: Claire carries all of the water for Jamie! Lord John can’t decide if he’s dumb and creepy or a cool dude! Roger is still my designated tea refill break! Bree is back to being the worst! Murgsali remains the best!

It’s week two of my drunk recaps being done while not drunk *shakes fist at the concept of Dry January* and my willpower is being aggressively tested.

I hate this fake-out with Roger as much as I hate the fake-out in ep. 1x03 with Claire and Mrs. Fitz.

Are we going to get Roger back at the stones and his decision to stay and him being recaptured and stuff next week? Or are we just going to pick back up at the village and we just need to fill all that in ourselves? Tbh, I almost would have preferred Roger just not being in this episode...

Oh the title card... Bree is suddenly now a great artist! (Seriously, how the fuck did she never draw Roger at any point before Rogergate happened?! Like, cool if you don’t want to share who raped you, literally this whole thing could have been avoided without sharing that tidbit if Jamie KNEW WHAT ROGER LOOKED LIKE. Oh, thanks for the heads up, Lizzie, but it turns out that the guy you saw is Bree’s boyfiend. I punched him for leaving her, but it turns out he’s just a dick, not a rapist.) (Second week in a row that I’ve made that typo. It’s like even my subconscious doesn’t like Roger.)

And Bree loves drawing the enslaved people on her great-aunt’s plantation! Which she apparently is totally cool with!

Also, Bree says Aunt wrong. It’s a minor thing but one that is driving me up a fucking wall every time she says it. (People in Massachusetts say it like Ahnt, not Ant.)

Geez, Lizzie, Bree doesn’t need to easily forgive Jamie. Jamie doesn’t deserve to be easily forgiven. Honestly, Lizzie is the least to blame for this whole fiasco. She saw a dude being rough with Bree and then the next time she saw Bree was post-rape. Jamie was a complete prick to Bree, beat the shit out of a random guy without letting him get a word in edgewise and had his nephew get rid of him. And then didn’t fucking tell Claire, who probably would have put two and two together, about it. Fuck that guy.

I simultaneously can’t believe and 1000% can believe they read this shit heap of a story line and were like “Yep, this is great stuff! Let’s definitely spend half a season on it!”

ROLLO! THE GOODEST BOY!

Ugh. Young Ian being like “Oh hey, Auntie Claire, how about you go do the emotional labor of making Jamie feel better about being a fucking dumbass!” Hard pass, Ian. Hard fucking pass.

So here for Claire’s “what you *both* thought.” Like yep, Ian, you’re at fault too. I know you love your uncle, but you gave that whole big speech at River Run about being your own man and yada yada, so maybe fucking own your part in this. You didn’t fucking have to sell a guy into fucking slavery. BUT YOU’RE STILL NOT AS MUCH TO BLAME AS JAMIE. FUUUUCK THAT GUY.

Also, Jamie, you dumb fuck. You should have been fucking groveling by now. You get no points for keeping your distance. Nut up and mea culpa the shit out of this situation.

Honestly, if they wanted to make the show just about Fersali and Murtz, at this point I’d be totally on board.

Wait, so Fergus has been unemployed this whole time? How the fuck have they been living for the past year then? What happened to his job at the printer? I have so many questions...

So Bree, who grew up in civil rights era Boston and had a Black roommate, is totally just chill about living on a plantation and being waited on by enslaved people? Like, we’re not going to mention this at all? Cool. Cool cool cool.

Also like fucking mother like daughter. She’s like “Oh hey, Phaedre, I’m going to draw you. Sit there. No, I’m not going to ask if you want to be drawn. Or take into account what Jocasta might do to you because of my decision to make you not be doing what you’re expected to be doing. Like my Mom did with asking you to call her by her first name, I’m just gonna disregard what the consequences might be for you because treating you like this will make me feel better about myself.”

Maria Doyle Kennedy continues to be awesome.

"Sorry! Did I wake ye?” I love Marsali so fucking much.

I really like them giving what was a convo with Jenny and Jamie about Ian in the books to Marsali and Murtagh about Fergus. But man, women do so much of the emotional labor in this fucking episode. Marsali is running a house, caring for a baby and risking having a wanted man sleeping in her kitchen but she also has to like fluff the pillows for Fergus’ feelings.

Yes, I know that spouses should support each other and be there when the other one needs something. But since we see so little of Fersali now, we’re not seeing this as a two way relationship. Just Marsali doing it for Fergus.

That being said, I do think it’s very sweet of Marsali.

“If I wanted him shot, I’d do it myself. And it wouldna be Fergus I’d take aim at first. He doesna put his boots on my blankets.” I just fucking love her so much, y’all.

Does Murtagh know who Marsali is yet though? Does he know about Jamie marrying Laoghaire? Were we robbed of the glorious Murtz reaction we could have had? Le sigh. If I had a drink, I’d pour one out...

Oh hey, Gerald. Is your name going to stay Gerald? Or are you randomly going to start being Neil in a couple seasons?

“Have you been enjoying your time at River Run?” “Yes, I love River Run. I love living with a bunch of racists, benefiting from the enslavement of Black people. I never once bring up how uncomfortable I am, or even look like I’m uncomfortable about the situation. I am not at all morally conflicted about my current situation. Everything is totally cool.”

I raged a lot during ep. 4x02, and honestly that rage all still stands.

Oh hey! John Grey, Lord of Convenient Appearances is back!

Fergus talking to Germain is my everything. “It seems there are some here who do not appreciate your contribution to the cause.” *swoon* I can’t wait for him to teach his lil dude the fine art of pickpocketing...

I LOVE THE FERGUS AND MURTAGH RELATIONSHIP A LOT AND I’M VERY GLAD THEY’RE GETTING SCREEN TIME TOGETHER.

BASICALLY I LOVE MURTAGH’S RELATIONSHIP WITH EVERYONE.

I JUST LOVE MURGSALI OK.

Bree’s like that obnoxious college freshman who comes home on break and is like all insufferable because they took like one intro to psych class and now want to like diagnose everyone they know with random shit.

“Must I close my eyes when you are before me?” “Yes.” Well played, Bree, but I still do not like you at all in this episode.

Man, 18th century tinder fucking sucks.

I know this show isn’t subtle at all, but jfc, they’re like punching us in the face with the judge being gay.

Bree, Claire and Betty fucking Draper should start a club for women who drink like fish while preggo.

Ok so I’m on board with the convo with LJG and Bree about his vision or whatever, but then it crosses over into creepy later on in the episode.

Can Lizzie please fuck off already? She’s annoying af.

Also, she blurts out that Bree’s pregnant but managed to keep it a secret that Jamie kicked the shit out of a guy for weeks? I’m calling shenanigans on that.

I get that the convo with John and Bree about Jocasta trying to marry off Bree to some rando is supposed to like be clearing up the handfasting is marriage vs. not marriage thing that the show can’t make up its mind about, but it still bugs me, tbh. A lot.

I still am lowkey annoyed that they expect us to be so invested in Roger and Bree when they did like nothing to build up their relationship before it went to shit (both times). Like, you’re lazy when it comes to your characters, show. You’re doing a bad job. If no one is invested in the characters then all the plot in the world won’t make the show good.

The amount this show relies on book readers backfilling shit is absurd.

Jocasta, as a woman and figure in society, is a far more understandable giver of this speech about Bree needing to be married than Jamie, a dude who can have her live with him in his and Claire’s house in fucking bumblenowhere backwoods. But still, WHY DON’T THESE FUCKERS JUST TREAT HER LIKE SHE’S MARRIED. SHE TECHNICALLY IS. SHE’S HANDFAST. WHO GIVES A FUCK IF THERE WEREN’T WITNESSES. NO ONE IN CROSS CREEK KNOWS THAT. PEOPLE WILL JUST ACCEPT WHAT YOU TELL THEM. I HATE THAT ALL THESE FUCKERS WON’T PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Ok, cool that Lord John is getting some action, I’m am 10000% here for him to be happy with a man who actually wants him back instead of creepily pining over Jamie forever. But FFS YOU ARE NOT STUPID. WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU BANGING THIS DUDE IN THE GODDAMN HALLWAY?! YOU ARE A VERY CAREFUL PERSON. YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN IF PEOPLE KNOW YOU’RE GAY. YOU FUCKING GOT SHIPPED OFF TO ARDSMUIR BECAUSE OF RUMORS ABOUT YOU AND HECTOR. YOU ARE SMARTER THAN THIS YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCK.

All that aside, I totally ship John and the judge and they should totally be boyfriends and bang a lot, but FUCKING NOT IN THE GODDAMN HALLWAY OF SOMEONE ELSE’S HOUSE WHEN THEY KNOW THEY LIVE IN A HOMOPHOBIC AF SOCIETY.

Ok, fuck Brianna for this blackmail bullshit. Fuck her so fucking much. She is the literal worst right now. Like are you fucking kidding me, Bree?! You’re garbage. I know this shit is in the book, but fucking christ. It’s bad. Fucking have Bree talk to John like “Look, my aunt is trying to marry me off. That fucking hobbit is going to propose as soon as I go back inside. I don’t want to marry him, you know I’m waiting to see if my parents can find my quasi-husband. Can you please do me a solid and say we’re engaged so people leave me the fuck alone until my parents get back?” We *know* John would say yes to that, because he eventually fucking goes along with it for THAT EXACT FUCKING REASON. SO WHY ARE THEY HAVING FROM-THE-POST-STONEWALL-FUTURE BREE THREATEN A GUY WITH THIS SHIT. SHE KNOWS HOW QUEER FOLKS ARE TREATED IN HER OWN FUCKING TIME, AND THIS IS THE PAST AND THE PAST IS THE FUCKING WORST. FUUUUUUCK HER.

“That sounds like a threat.” BREE, YOU DON’T GET TO BE BUTTHURT ABOUT BEING THREATENED WHEN YOU LITERALLY JUST TOLD A GUY YOU WERE GOING TO RUIN HIS LIFE, YOU ABSOLUTE ASSHOLE.

“I wouldn’t have said a word to anyone. I’d just threaten you with your worst fear. Because I’m a raging asshat.”

It’s creepy af that they’re like talking around John being in love with Jamie. I honestly hate that part of John so fucking much. Like he could be such a great character if they could fucking lay off the him pining over and being weirdly possessive of Jamie shit.

Ok, so with Bree now just telling everyone that it was Bonnet who raped her it’s really coming off that Jamie’s manpain was the *only* reason she didn’t tell anyone but Claire before. Which is so fucked up! She was raped! Fuck Jamie’s manpain! If she wants to tell people, she should fucking tell people! Sorry not sorry, but if you were brutally raped and possibly impregnated by some fucker and you want to let people know who it was because it turns out he’s a fucking sociopath, that fucking trumps “oh, my bio dad might feel icky about it.”

“The union of our families is a blessing to us all. Except for the second someone better comes along. Because omg he’s a *lord*! Bye, Neil. Go have yourself some second breakfast.”

Oh fuck you, Jamie. You don’t get to be butthurt at Claire. Claire didn’t beat the everloving fuck out of some rando at the word of a maid, send him into slavery and then keep it a fucking secret. Also like, why the fuck did he even keep it a secret from Claire?! Why not do what Bree did and tell Claire but have her not tell Bree? And he’s still keeping him asking Murtagh to track Bonnet down from Claire. Seriously, fuck Jamie.

Oh Rollo, this isn’t Terminus. We don’t eat people in this show.

I literalol’ed at them pulling an Everest and using a dead body as a wayfinding tool. Probs not the reaction they were going for.

“He is... very much like his father.” DON’T MAKE IT WEIRD, JOHN.

"Good doesn’t come into it. I love him more than life itself.” I love the convo about loving a kid even if you’re not the bio dad, but this “It’s only new because there is hope.” bullshit while they’re sitting on the FUCKING PORCH OF A PLANTATION, LOOKING OUT AT ENSLAVED PEOPLE WHILE THE REST OF THE FAM IS OFF LOOKING FOR THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE LIVED ON THE LAND FOR THOUSANDS OF YEARS, IS SO FUCKING TONE DEAF IT HURTS.

“I was upset, but not with you.” Uh, Claire? YOU SHOULD BE UPSET WITH JAMIE. WHAT THE FUCK. YOU SHOULD ABSOLUTELY BE UPSET WITH JAMIE.

I get Claire’s reasons for not telling Jamie. I think Bree should have told Claire to tell Jamie since it seems like her only hesitation for doing so was Jamie’s #feelings. And I 100000000% think that it makes *zero* sense that she never told Jamie what Roger looks like. But Claire is doing way fucking more than her share of apologizing here. JAMIE IS THE ONE WHO SHOULD BE DOING THE BIG DRAMATIC APOLOGY. THIS IS LIKE 99.7% HIS FUCKING FAULT.

I HATE ROGERGATE SO FUCKING MUCH.

“Frank made plenty of mistakes.” UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE FUCKING CENTURIES, BEAUCHAMP.

Aaaand then they couch it as an “all parents do” thing. BECAUSE OH NO, CAN’T ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE WAS AN ABUSIVE JACKASS. NOPE. CAN’T DO THAT.

This show is fucking *killing* me with its refusal to make the male characters accountable for their actions.

And then we get the same sex scene we got in the premiere. Because even though Jamie and Claire get freaky in oh-so-many different ways in the later books, the show has decided that from now on they need to be vanilla and boring. I mean, in the book this bit is described as fierce with blind desperation. I know I always say I want them to deviate from the book, but ffs, I didn’t mean make all the sex the same when the situations and emotional states of the characters when they’re together are very different...

And no, Balfe, I’m not a “horny granny.” (Seriously, fuck her for that comment, tbh. I know what she was probably trying to say, but word choice, Caitriona. It’s fucking important.) I’m not watching this show for the smut. But the core relationship, what’s supposed to be the heart of the show, is now monotonous af.

Jamie and Claire as characters have always been a couple who express themselves passionately and physically. But now suddenly they’re just like soft af all the time? Where’s the fire? Where’s the spark? You don’t need to have nudity to show passion, show. I’m not asking for a parade of boobs and butts. (If there was contractual stuff involved with that for actors or whatever, more power to them.) But ffs, the show is managing to make me bored with the main fucking ship.

And then Roger gets the shit kicked out of him again and I’m here for it.

Because I still don’t like that guy.

(But seriously, framing the various Native American tribes as the “bad guys” is getting old af.)

#*#outlander starz #outlander 4x11 #drunj!der yells about outlander #rogergate

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