#like fr? one of the top worse things hes ever done. like its up there w his physical and emotional abuse of my mom and my siblings and of m | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crossovereddie · 3 years

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Thoughts on Gallavich Hall of Shame

Wow okay this is the latest I’ve ever posted a weekly recap and I feel awful about it but mom life amirite? I’ve seen a lot of negative posts about this episode( maybe I just follow the wrong people) so ngl I’m kinda worried about watching it. Ugh. This is why I try to not look up things until I’ve had a chance to recap because I hate being influenced by other people’s opinions BUT I’m gonna try my best to find the positive things in the episode and keep this light hearted and fun like I’ve been trying to do all season! Okay I’ll shut up now and get right into why you’re really reading this post:

Oh baby Gallavich :(((((

THEY WERE SO LITTLE

Bitch don’t even say the word divorce

They’re sitting side by side playing a game together 😭😭😭😭

Mickey loves blowing ian pass it on

Oh fuck I forgot that belt move ian did 🤤🤤🤤

Nob job lmao

MID GOBBLE

ugh Ned was the most disgusting piece of shit

Who are those two exes wtf

I don’t know their names but I forgot I never watched any episode Mickey wasn’t in lmao

WAIT A WOMAN WHAT THE FUCK

Wow Mickey Milkovich really deserves so much better

Compilation of Mickey saying fuck THANK YOU

Omfg s4 Mickey was actually perfect

“Course you will. That’s your whole fucking MO” oh shit..

Wow remembering the past is really making me hate ian again lmao

Just when I started loving him for once

But then I remember how much he’s grown and I love him again

Fuck the writers tho

Let me write Gallavich please I’d do a much better job

Okay y’all really made it seem like Mickey was super offensive with his bipolar comment

I’m bipolar and hate when people use the term lightly but cmon guys that was nothing

He even called it a bipolar episode. He didn’t say anything offensive at all omfg. I was over here thinking he called him a psycho or something.

Some of y’all just gotta stop watching and stick to fanfics or something.

“I wish I never met you.” “Me either” THEN THEIR FUCKING WEDDING FUCK YALL NOW IM IN MY FEELS 😭😭

They’ve been through so much wow

Okay I need to see Mickey wearing a fanny pack

THE RING AND THE FLASHBACK STOP

GIVE MICKEY AND IAN A BABY

Fuck I need to rewatch the wedding

“Stupid gallagher” same

Mickey giving the Fanny pack back my boy is such a Good Samaritan wow I raised you so well I’m so proud my perfect son

SHIT I JUST REALIZED WHAT SONG IS PLAYING FUCK THIS YALL IM OUT 😭😭😭😭😭

Oh gosh I thought we were done seeing ian Gallagher’s dance moves

Why would they put us through that again

“Stupid Milkovich” you watch your mouth

But we love when a man learns from his mistakes

Now kiss

Mickey is beautiful damn ian is so lucky

Now this is the type of flashback I like to see

MICKEY SAYING HES SENSITIVE DO YALL REALIZE HOW BIG THAT IS?!

Ugh I love him so much

I’m so proud to be his mom

Okay unpopular opinion but I actually love that little how’d your bipolar tirade go how’d your stealing shit go

If you’ve been with someone through their rock bottoms you’ll understand how not offensive at all that interaction was

They both said things they felt bad about saying and now they’re having a bit of banter about it

“We work well together”

GUYES THEYRE ACTUALLY TALKING THINGS OUT THIS IS HUGE

They needed space after feelings got hurt but now they’re coming together to make up and actually talk things over

They’re learning and growing apart AND together

They both had the horrible childhoods and they’re doing their best

It takes years and years of therapy to work through deep rooted issues like that. I’m STILL seeing a therapist twice a week and I still have issues.

Just imagine. They’re how old? Mid to late twenties and neither of them have properly dealt with their issues and mental health problems. You can’t expect them to be the perfect couple you read about in fanfics. Yeah shameless is over the top but it’s a tv show that has stayed on the air for 11 seasons BECAUSE of how over the top it is. Stop expecting these characters to be healed healthy woke changed characters from one season to the next when they haven’t even properly dealt with their issues and it would honestly be very ooc if they did deal with their issues in a healthy way

I wish they would but that’s not the shameless way.

Well that was a long rant but honestly it was needed

Ugh I hate reliving terry this is the worst my heart is breaking

I skipped fast

Terry is definitely worse but yeah they’re both pieces of shit

Shit I forgot how abusive frank was

They both deserve so much better

They’re so cute oh gosh

We love communication

Okay but fr taking a bath with your SO isn’t as romantic as people think or maybe I’m just not a romantic lmao

Unless it’s a big bathtub with leg room

Mickey has the best lines

He’s so funny 😭😭😭

Mickey loves being manhandled✨✨✨✨

Honestly? I really think they would be really into some safe consensual bdsm play and they deserve to have that

PICK HIM UP IAN PLEASE ITS WHAT HE WANTS

fucking love you

I love you too

MUTUAL I LOVE YOUS ARE MY FAVORITE THING

IAN LOVES TO DO THE THUMB THING I CANT

HE DID IT EIGHT TIMES IN THREE SECONDS I COUNTED

they’re so perfect for each other :(((

A kissing compilation 😭😭

THE S7 VAN KISS HAS MY HEART

I still want a scene of Mickey making fun of Ian’s black hair

THE WEDDING 😭😭😭

I’m in tears again

THE KEY CHANGE WITH IAN SAYS MICKEY STILL GETS ME 😭😭😭😭

“Now?” HOW DOES ONE WORD GET SUCH A BIG REACTION FROM ME

I deserved to be at that wedding 😭😭😭

“But not these newlyweds” damn right

THE BLOOPERS

I love them so much

I LOVE SEEING NOEL AND CAM AT WORK

What a treat

SWEET LOVING MOUTH

THE THUMB THING AGAIN

JUST FOR ME

I MISS SEASONN FOUR MICKEY I WANNA GO WATCH HIM NOW

I love Mickey more than anything 😭😭

Okay that was so much better than I was expecting! I know I ranted a lot and I’m probably gonna get some angry comments and messages but I honestly don’t care. Have your opinion and I’ll have my own and if you wanna discuss things like adults I’ll reply but if not then I don’t have time for the negativity. My boys actually communicated and didn’t self sabotage for once and I’m so proud. I love not being as invested as I used to be because now I can actually enjoy their scenes! Anyway it’s late where I’m at and I haven’t been getting much sleep so I’m gonna stop rambling. Let me know what you thought of this episode! Oh and real quick! I noticed I got a flood of new followers in the past two weeks so i just wanted to say feel free to send me messages on and off anon! I like talking to y’all! I promise I’m nice lol! Okay bye I love Mickey so much!

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anxious-gryffindor · 4 years

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Since JK has brought up the subject of menstruation, here’s a story I wrote a couple of weeks ago, featuring TransGuy!Remus going through a bad period and SupportiveCisBoyfriend!Sirius trying to help even though he has no idea what’s happening and Remus (in true Remus fashion) keeps pushing him away:

(read below or in fanfic.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13609937/1/Shark-Week)

Shark Week

Sirius was feeling a little abandoned. It was Saturday and, with its regular visit to Hogsmead, this should have been a pretty good day for him. Instead, he's walking down the pathway to Hogwarts all alone. James and Peter totally abandoned him for their dates. I mean, if those can even be considered dates… After years and years of telling him to fuck off, Evans has finally started talking to Prongs, which, to him (and only him), is the beginning of a great love story. All it takes is a casual conversation and an invitation to come to Honeydukes and James forgets all about his best friends, his Marauders, the ones who were with him through it all. Ungrateful git. And after James was gone, it wasn't long until Wormtail was off with Maudie, the fourth-year Hufflepuff he'd taken to the ball last semester. To be fair, Wormy had invited Sirius to tag along, but Maudie's friends were the type to ignore he had a boyfriend or even that he was gay no matter how many times he said it and Sirius was just not up for that. So he's walking back tothe castle and cursing the end of friend loyalty. A voice at the back of his head wants to remind Sirius he would not have minded being left alone at all, if Remus was there. And he was supposed to be there. Except that morning the other Marauders had found a note from Moony saying he was going to take the day off to rest. Which is fair, totally, absolutely fair and Sirius wants Moony to rest, just as much as he doesn't want to be that boyfriend who demands his significant other spend all their free time with him. But it's kinda hard to remember all of those things when it's cold and he’s walking alone on an almost empty road because everyone else is out with their dates or their friends.

When he gets to Hogwarts, Sirius debates with himself on whether going back to the dorm and disturbing Remus is a good idea. If he’s being honest, Moony’s been kind of distant for a while. Ever since they started officially dating, actually. It seems like he never wants Sirius around when something’s off anymore and Sirius is trying not to read too much into that. He ends up telling himself he’ll stop by their dorm and see if Remus wants company. If not, he’ll just get his broom and practice some. He makes his way up the stairs to find the curtains around Remus' bed still closed.

"Hum, Moony?" He asks softly. "You awake?"

The silence stretches for long enough that Sirius starts looking around for his broom, but then: "Yeah…" Remus' voice is small. Not a sleepy kind of small but a something's-wrong kind of small.

"Moony?" Sirius forgets all about the broom and steps closer to his boyfriend' bed.

"What?" That's a little snappy, which only makes Sirius worry more.

"Uh, can I come in?"

"... I'd rather not…" He doesn't sound very convinced.

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?"

"Well, are you sure you really don't want me to come in and you're not just doing that thing where you're not okay but you pretend you are and you don't want me to come in and see that you really are not okay?"

"...You're not going to leave until I let you come in, are you?"

"Not unless I know you're okay, no," Sirius admits.

Remus sighs and there's a moment of silence in which Sirius thinks he might just have to take a seat and make himself comfortable, but then… "Okay, come in."

Sirius opens the curtains to find Moony curled up in a fetal position, one of his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach, the other resting near his head.

"See? I'm okay," the werewolf says. "No blood, no injuries, I'm just trying to sleep." That might have been a convincing argument if Remus didn't look so… depressed. He'd said the whole thing in a flat tone and hadn't even moved his head up to look at Sirius. His gaze was firmly set on a spot to the right of Sirius' legs and, upon closer inspection, Sirius could see bloodshot eyes and the tracks of poorly wiped-off tears.

"Moony… please talk to me?" Sirius feels at a loss.

"Talking is about the last thing I wanna do right now, Padfoot." God, he sounds so tired...

Sirius sighs. "Well, fine, but I'm not leaving." He sits down on the floor next to Remus' bed, because his boyfriend's balled-up figure is taking up all the space in bed. Sirius leans his back against the wall and looks out the window. The minutes go by in silence and he starts thinking up Quidditch plays to stop himself from fussing over Remus. And then… there's a sniff coming from his right. He turns his head to find tears running down Moony's face, his features contorted into a held-back sob. Sirius doesn't know what to do, so he carefully lays a hand on top of Moony's. Remus sucks in a breath and says:

"This is stupid, really."

"It's not stupid if it's hurting you."

"I just… I need to move." He gives out a sort of hysterical out-of-breath laugh, "I need to move, that's all, that's all I gotta do and yet… It hurts, Pads, it hurts a lot and that's not fair because why did I have to have this on top of everything else, huh? But I'm stupid because all I need to do is move and get the potions in my trunk or my wand to accio the potion and I'll be fine - or, well, I probably won't be fine, but I'll be better. But I can't do that because moving hurts too much and so… And so I'm just laying here crying like a fucking idiot - a fucking weak idiot."

"Hey, don't say that…" Sirius is trying not to show how worried he is and make things worse. "I- I can get you the potion, if you want."

"No, you don't have to do that..." Remus closes his eyes, forcing a tear to fall and make its way across his nose.

"I don't have to, I want to, because you're my boyfriend and I want to do things for you. So, tell me what potion to get." He gets up and heads for Remus' trunk at the bottom of the bed.

"Hum, it's…" Remus licks his lips nervously, "it's, hum, in the potions box over by the foot of the trunk, the- the pink one." He sounds almost embarrassed and Sirius doesn’t get why.

"Right," Sirius finds the pink potion (Remus’ organization apparently paying off) and takes it back to him. "Here you go."

"I- I don't- Sirius…" oh God, Remus' eyes are closed tight and he sounds… he sounds scared. "Sirius, I'm sorry if this is too weird…"

"Moony? What's wrong?"

Remus opens his eyes and looks up at him incredulously. "Oh. You… Sirius."

"Yes?"

"Read the bottle."

So Sirius does. For bad periods, it says, in a carefully scrawled handwriting that Sirius doesn't recognize. It takes him a second and then - Oh. Oooh. So… it's a trans thing. Remus had told him about it when they'd first started dating, in a nerve wracking, tear-streaked conversation, and they'd never talked about it again. I mean, it wasn't that Sirius didn't want to talk about it (or that he did want to talk about it, fpr that matter), he just wanted to give Remus the space to say however much he wanted whenever he wanted and since Remus had never brought it up… It was still an awkward subject. But that didn't mean Sirius had any problem with it. He didn't, and he wanted Remus to know that, he just didn’t know how to make that clear, aside from the reassurances he’d given on that first night.

"Okay…" He's trying to figure out what to say now.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, I- Sorry I hadn't realized. ‘M sorry,I should- I should be doing something, right? Taking care of you? I- I can take you to Pomfrey if you want…”

"No, Sirius, I don't fucking want you to take me to Pomfrey," suddenly Remus sounds upset. "Just- just give me that shit and leave me alone, will you?"

Sirius hesitates. "What… what did I do?" He hates this, this whole second-guessing, never knowing what's going on through Remus' mind, afraid he's gonna say the wrong thing… He hates being shut out like this. He gets it, he understands that he can't really understand what Remus is going through and he can't even do something to make it better like he did with the werewolf thing by becoming an animagus, so… this whole thing just sucks.

Remus gives out a small, frustrated while pushing himself up to take the potion from Sirius' hands. "Nothing. You didn't do anything, it’s- Sirius, I-" and now he's tearing up and Sirius doesn't understand anything that's happening. "God, I'm sorry." His hands shake violently and he can’t seem to pull the cork off the flask. "I'm so sorry, about everything; not just for snapping at you, but for not telling you sooner and for springing all of this on you out of nowhere when you didn’t sign up for it and-” He almost drops the potions jar on his lap, “and I’m just so sorry and this has just been such a crappy day, I-" The thing just keeps slipping fr his fingers over and over "Fuck, I hate my life!" He tosses it across the room and the glass shatters loudly against the wall. "Fuck, I- fuck!" He doubles over in a sob.

"Moony. Moony, just- breathe." Sirius sits down on the mess of pillows next to Remus and rubs his back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. Remus’ entire body is shaking. After a few seconds, he wipes his face and sits up straighter, shaking Sirius’ hand off. Tears run down his face as he stares in a trance at the pink goo making its way down the wall next to James' bed and Sirius is afraid to say anything.

"It's pink," Remus breathes out. "God, figures that shit would be pink…” Sirius looks at him puzzled and Remus actually smiles, which turns out to be the creepiest and most worrying thing he’s done all afternoon. “I mean, that can’t be natural, right? No way, I don’t know anything that would make it pink like that-” He chuckles. "I bet they did it so the twelve-year-old girls would take it. How stupid us that? How stupid have twelve-year-old girls have to be that they'll only take pain medication if it's pink? God, what am I saying? Am I really making fun of twelve-year-old girls? I mean, was a twelve-year-old girl!”

"No you weren't," Sirius cuts him off. "Moony, I-" he suddenly feels uncertain, like he shouldn't be saying this, like he's talking over Remus no matter how wrong what he’s saying sounds. Still, he goes on: "You were never a girl."

"Right," Moony nods. "Yeah, right. I just- yeah, you're right, it's just- hard. Especially in weeks like this."

"Because of your period?"

Remus flinches slightly. He looks away as he asks: "Please don't say that word..."

"Shit, I'm sorry. I-”

“No, it’s- it’s stupid, because, well, that’s what it is, a- a period. It’s just- Periods are things girls have and I-” he takes a deep breath to stop the tears from re-emerging and shuts up.

“Yeah, I get it,” Sirius nods once the silence stretches for too long. “You’re not a girl, so… it must be uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable? He repeats in his head. Are you really saying dysphoria is just uncomfortable? It’s not like when you’re wearing the wrong size shoes, Sirius! Get your feet out of your mouth! Remus is still taking very deep berths, so Sirius decides to change the subject, “So, hum, that potion looks kinda ruined, so maybe I should go talk to Pomfrey, get you another one?��

"Yeah, I would really appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone, Pads..."

"Oh, shit, sorry, yeah, you-"

"You can stop apologizing, you know? It's not your fault I have the worst fucking body."

"Yeah, but…” Sirius deflates and the words just come tumbling out: “I'm not handling this too well, am I?" This is probably the most open he’s been with Remus since they started officially dating and it makes Sirius nervous (how did they get so far away from the couple that could talk about literally anything?).

Remus shrugs, "I don't think there's really a good way to deal with it. And if there is, I don't think I've got it either…" Sirius is surprised and thankful for Moony’s honest reply.

"You don't have to, you know, you're allowed to take this however you want, Remus."

"Well, then so are you…"

"Hmm you see, that's where we disagree, because I'm not the one going through the hard time here."

"Well, you found out your boyfriend's got a vagina, that may be constituted as a bad time…"

"No, it doesn't." Sirius says it very seriously. "No, it doesn't. Nothing has changed, Moony. Your- the body you were born in doesn't change who you are, or the fact that you're a boy. The boy I fell in love with."

"You're too sweet. Way too sweet for me. And you're gay."

"Yeah, I like boys. Boys like you. Because you are a boy. And there's no such thing as being too sweet for you. You’re sweet too and we love it each other so that’s all that matters." He suddenly feels like he’s arguing to keep Remus from breaking up with him.

"Pads…"

"Moony, don't. Really. I told you that I don't have a problem with you being trans, that I love you just the way you are, so can you just stop putting words in my mouth and fucking trust what I’m saying?” He realizes with a pang of guilt he’s kinda scolding Moony, who’s feeling dysphoric and in pain and definitely doesn’t deserve his boyfriend to be scolding him on top of it all. The next sentence comes out much softer: “Can you just- Please believe me?"

"I- yeah, I'm sorry."

"You don’t need to apologize,” he sighs. “I just- I feel like we’re going in circles,” he confesses.

“We’re not. I hear you, I do, I just- It’s really not your fault, I’m just in a really crappy mood, I-” Remus hesitates, then sighs, “There’s- there’s this thing called PMS, it’s- it basically means-”

"I know what it means,” Sirius reassures him, “Marlene told me about it."

"Right. Marlene. A girl." Remus’ tone comes out completely flat.

"I shouldn't have brought that up, should I?"

"Hum… Yeah, maybe not…” Remus leans his head back against the headboard. “Maybe… Maybe don't make any more associations between what's going on with me this week and girls. It just- I get that it’s fair to make those associations, I just- it reminds me that it's not something that's supposed to happen to boys and that other boys don't have it and… Maybe I'm just overreacting, everything upsets me when I'm like this."

"Well, I think you have the right to be upset."

Remus takes a deep breath and nods. "That's a hard thing for me to accept..."

"Makes sense,” Sirius nods, glad they’re finally talking about these things. There are a few moments of silence, then he says: “So, hum, would the potion help with that PMS thing? 'Cause we could maybe try some spells to bring it back?"

"Ah, don't worry about it,” Remus shrugs like he wasn’t just crying over that motions a couple minutes ago. “It doesn't really help."

"What?" Talk about mood swings, huh? Sirius immediately feels guilty for thinking that.

"Oh, yeah, that's the best part of it,” Remus goes on, thankfully oblivious to Sirius’ thoughts. “The fucking pain potion? Doesn't even help. Doesn't do shit for me. I mean, maybe it does, I don't know, I always end up taking it anyway just in case, but it doesn't make the pain go away. Not for me. It helps all the bloody girls who Pomfrey gives it to - don’t you dare make a joke right now - but it doesn't help for me. Nope, because my body just hates me that fucking much."

Sirius doesn’t know what to say, so he settles for voicing his thoughts: “That fucking sucks, which makes Remus chuckle darkly. “Is it a werewolf thing?” He asks “Like, your body doesn't adapt to the potion the way it should or something?"

"I don't know… Maybe?” Remus frowns. “Pomfrey thinks there's something wrong with… with my uterus? She guessed endometriosis, but there's no way to tell unless I go to an actual specialized healer, which I refuse to do because… well, because I went once, a couple of years ago and… I got to the waiting room and it was so pink, the whole room, just a fucking overdose of pink, and everyone there was a woman, just a whole bunch of women sitting in that incredibly pink waiting room and they all looked up at me and gave me weird looks when I came in and I- I just freaked out. Told the receptionist I'd was in the wrong room or something and then I just ran the fuck away from there. Never went back."

"I can't blame you, it would have freaked me out too."

"Yeah, well it was stupid. I need to see a healer. If it's really endometriosis I might end up needing surgery in a couple of years just because I'm too stubborn to get it checked out now. Because I’m too proud or whatever to get a service that’s clearly made for women."

"Can't blame you, though, I mean, you're a guy, so… You shouldn't have to get services that are clearly made for women… And you really might need surgery? Holy shit, having a uterus sucks, huh?”

"Ha, you don’t even know how much…” Remus huffs. “You know… you don't need to keep telling me I'm a guy every two sentences... I got it, you want me to know you see me as a guy."

"Because you are." When Remus gives him a look Sirius chuckles. "Sorry, last time, I promise."

"Nah, it's- it's actually nice to know. I mean, I know you said it before but… There's a part of me that was wondering if maybe you only said it because you thought it was the right thing to ."

"No, I didn't," Sirius puts his hand on top of Remus', who turns his around so that now they're properly holding hands. "I really do see you as a guy, Remus, I never doubted it. Not even for a second."

"Thanks…" Remus breathes out, looking away, and Sirius swears he can hear the hint of tears in his voice again. He stares for long enough that Moony turns to meet his boyfriend's worried expression. "I- don't worry about it,” he says softly, “I'm crying over pretty much anything right now." Their faces are so close they’re almost touching.

"Okay," Sirius whispers and brings his free hand up to Remus' cheek to wipe away the tears with his thumb.

"It's gonna pass," Remus tells him, leaning into Sirius' hand slightly. "The mood swings, the pain, it's all gonna pass in a couple of days. I just gotta wait it out." He sounds so… sadly resigned.

"Okay. But I'm gonna wait with you, if you don't mind."

"No," Remus lays his head down on Sirius' shoulder, "I don't mind at all."

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evien-stark · 4 years

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 163

Despite all the trouble you were in and everything that laid ahead, there was always that certain comfort that you drew when you were with Tony. The same must have gone for him, because the two of you fell asleep leaning against one another at the back table of the jet while Clint flew who knew where. Safehouse… some safehouse somewhere far away. Ultron was out there somewhere. Doing something. Something awful.

But while you were miles up in the air with a very beaten and battered team- and… while you had Tony right there, hand in hand with you, you gave yourself small permission to drift. And it was sort of nice. For a little while. Free of nightmares. Just blissfully gone for those short couple of hours while Clint piloted. But when they were over you missed them dearly.

The louder rumbling of the jet as it started its descent and then land spooked you back awake. As soon as your surroundings came back in clearer, you leaned in again to rub your forehead against Tony’s shoulder. Waded in his warmth as his hand shifted up your back and he pressed a kiss to your temple. This was the plan now. Sit tight in some abandoned safehouse so that the media- and governments of the world- couldn’t bother the team. Sit and wait for Ultron’s next play.

This wasn’t a very good plan. At the very least you needed to start doing damage control- but, then again… Maria seemed to be on top of things. And she literally was the head of Damage Control. Right underneath you. Rhodey, no doubt, was also working. It just felt so wrong to be doing nothing. To just be waiting. In fact, it felt like asking for a lot of trouble. But what choices were being left to you?

None. Absolutely none. You were being told to sit and wait. So that’s what you had to do. As you stepped off the jet behind everyone else and took in the scenery… maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. For an abandoned SHIELD safehouse in the middle of nowhere, it was pretty idyllic. Clint had taken you to some big farmhouse. Many acres to roam, protected and shaded by large trees on all sides of the property. A couple beaten down trucks, A barn off on the right side. No doubt it had some heavy security system too- one that would have to be booted up. “What are our optics?” Your brain was going. This place had to be locked down, just in case. “What security are we looking at here?”

Tony would have to do some work to Ultron-proof it, just in case he came looking for the group. But apparently nobody else had been told about this little sit-and-see plan, because Thor asked, “What is this place?”

The walk up the gravel drive was short, and Tony merely shrugged as Clint approached the door. “A safehouse?”

Clint took Nat inside first- she’d been looking a little rough. No more so than the rest of the team, but he’d been nursing her just a little. Probably spoke more to their bond than her condition. It was sweet, to be sure. Then the rest of you followed inside.

...it didn’t look as abandoned as you would have thought. Not dirty or unkempt. In fact- there were- There were kid’s toys in the living room. On the floor. Handknit blankets draped over a couch. An open magazine on the coffee table-

“Honey?” Clint called out as he looked around and you felt rather stunned.

But completely held by shock as a very pregnant woman stepped out of the kitchen, mug and dish towel in hand. She was pretty surprised to see the group standing at her door. If you were anyone else you might have assumed she was just some random contact Clint had run to. Someone he trusted.

Except immediate love bounced between them. She was happy to see them, despite his unannounced guests.

Your heart hurt.

“I’m home.” He finished the rest of what made sense. Clint was home. That woman was his wife. She was pregnant with his child- she approached him, putting her hands up to caress his face and gave him a sweet kiss. He mumbled around her. “Sorry about the company- that I didn’t call ahead-”

Instinctively, blindly, and painfully you reached out, hand connecting with Tony’s as he drowned in the same sudden and inexplicable sadness. Except unlike you he was rejecting the idea outright. “This is an agent of some kind.”

Clint turned back. “Team, this is Laura.”

Finally you got a good look at her as she turned fully to face the group. She was a beautiful woman. Short. Long brown hair, light brown eyes, and an exceptionally sweet smile as she pointed. “I know all your names.”

The sudden stomping of little feet drew everyone’s attention. And this little picture became that much worse as two children- a young girl with braided blonde pigtails and a slightly older boy with a mop of sandy hair, bounded down the stairs as Clint crouched down. He caught the little girl in her speedy run, lifting her up into a tight hug. “Hey, sweetheart!” He then put his other arm around the boy, leaning in to kiss the top of his head. “Hey, buddy.”

Good god. Clint Barton had a family. He’d had a family for years. He had been a SHIELD agent- he’d been an Avenger for years. All while having a wife. And children. And-

You were holding Tony’s hand so tight your arm was shaking. Clint had everything you’d sworn you could never. How?

Tony continued your bewilderment, using his free hand to nervously point at them. “...those are… smaller agents…”

It made sense. Clint was rarely ever around aside for missions- he had a room in the Tower, but he disappeared often. When SHIELD fell, he was nowhere to be found. But it wasn’t that he’d been hiding this from you- ...nor the fact that Natasha seemed to know about it, as she became joyous and the children gathered around her. Auntie Nat…

No it wasn’t the secrecy or the omission. It was the hurt. The hurt that he’d figured this out somehow. Yet you’d been grasping and failing at some vision of a family. A life like this. A house. A family. Love that wasn’t beset by world ending events. ...how did they do it?

You really were aching inside looking at them. The perfect picture. You wanted this. You wanted this, for you and Tony. Clint had been living this the whole time and you’d never had a clue. You still didn’t- had no clue how to do it. How he was managing. How. How how…

Steve took a breath. “Sorry for barging in like this.” Tony was hanging on to his own hurt while managing yours, no doubt. Still holding on to you tight. “Yeah. We would have called ahead, but we were too busy having no idea you existed.” Even his usual sass didn’t make you feel better. Clint nodded. “Yeah. Well. Fury helped me set this up when I joined. Kept it off SHIELD’s files. I’d like to keep it that way. I figure it’s a good place to lay low.”

Yeah. That did make sense. It also made sense why you had no idea about it. Why no one did- except Nat. But they’d always been close. You had to clear your throat to make words go. “We’ll keep your secret for you.”

The two of you looked at each other and you had to wonder if maybe it was just plain on your face. The longing as you looked at him. His wife. Their kids. But he gave you a short nod. Laura smiled. “Shower’s upstairs, second door on the left. There’s some medical supplies too, if you need to get patched up. And we don’t mind if you borrow some clothes.” Accommodating and kind despite the drop in. She was probably used to it, you realized. Her husband coming home with cuts and bruises. “I’ll start lunch.”

A group murmur of thanks hit the air and you didn’t wait for permission. Tony had a pretty nasty cut on the side of his face that needed tending to. The rest of the group, save Natasha and Clint (who were at homebase, so they’d be fine) were all a little more super than he was. So you turned, hand still in his, pulling him upstairs. But really. Really you just needed to be away from them. And with him. To decompress.

Maybe even reassure each other of something or other…

You didn’t exactly push him, but were pretty insistent that he move a little quicker through the bathroom door, which you shut behind you and locked. You then guided him to sit on the closed toilet, and started rummaging through the cabinet. Finding a medkit and a bottle of peroxide, you set them down on the sink. And then were promptly stopped when Tony’s hand reached up to touch the back of yours. You braved turning your head to look at him.

Waiting for you there were those big, beautiful brown eyes of his. Somewhat glassy. And entirely see-through. “Take a breath.” Asked gently of you. Your lips pressed together, swallowing hard, and then turned your head back to the kit- though you did do as he asked. Breathing in slowly and then out. Uncapping the peroxide you dumped some on a cotton pad and started dabbing his cheek softly. “How do they manage? How do they do this?” Keeping your voice very quiet.

“I told you it’s not impossible.” His smile up at you was a little cocky, but at the same time still slightly broken.

“Clint’s also not as public as us. So- it’s not the same-”

“He’s as public as the rest of us, after what happened in New York. We sell toys of him. Who are you trying to convince here?” As he asked, your hand lowered, and you looked at him again. “You know where I stand on this. I mean if Barton can manage…” Both of his brows lifting.

“We’re not Clint.” He was right. You were trying to fool yourself. Make excuses. It was easy to keep saying it couldn’t be done as long as no one else had done it. And before today, you’d been very sure no one else had. Or would.

And you were so very wrong. Which meant… which meant you’d been wasting precious time. Wasting time convincing Tony that it couldn’t be done until this, that, and the other thing was fulfilled. Yet- you could have… you could have been living a life- ...and it… it was your fault that the two of you had been delaying it…

How were you supposed to live with that? Live with yourself?

His smile up at you made you hurt all over again. “Great news. Means we can nail this whole house-and-family thing even better.”

You had to look away from him, throwing out the cotton pad, settling your hands on the sides of the sink, head dropping. “They have three kids…” It was so unfathomable. How did she do this? How did she sit at home, wondering if her husband would come home alive-

...god. God damn it. You’d already been living this life with him. Yet you’d seen fit to deny every time he asked you to take it one step further. And for what? For what?

He stood suddenly, setting his hand reassuringly at the mid of your back, stroking in soft circles. “Two. Technically. Although she’s definitely ready to go on that aforementioned third.” Shifting in, he pressed his forehead against the back of your shoulder in an affectionate touch. “Honey… we couldn’t have known.”

“So what-” The words choked from you as you felt the guilt come clawing. “I kept putting it off because it was so unobtainable and now what- we’re being shown up-”

The two of you shared a watery laugh, unable to look at one another. “Just means we have to do it bigger.”

“They have a head start.”

“So? We’re the Starks. Now that we know what we’re looking at- we can build it better.”

A few breaths hitched, you caught a few sniffles too, as you turned, standing a little straighter. Before you could wipe your tears away, his hands were there. Doing it for you. “We are not the Starks.”

“Not yet.” One of those signature arches of his brows threatened to get your smile going. But you just weren’t ready for it yet. Suddenly he started patting at his pockets- “Damn it.”

Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around him, holding yourself as close to him as you could, rewarded with his arms crushing you back. You were clinging to him, but that was okay. “It wasn’t right here, anyway. We have a mess to clean up.”

“Okay. I agree. But after?” His voice came somewhere close to your ear, low and loving.

“...ask me after.” It wasn’t fair to the rest of the team, to be finding solace in each other like this. To be making plans for a future, like this. You had no idea what after looked like either. So you couldn’t commit right now-

...but if anyone deserved it- wasn’t it you? You’d been waiting for a sign. You’d been waiting to see if this was possible. And now you had hard confirmation. Someone was already living this life. And if they could…

Then so could the two of you.

He held you that much tighter. His tone was full of promise. “I intend to.”

---

Tony took the first shower. You asked if anyone wanted dibs on the second, and the team groggily passed it up, so you were next in line. Laura was kind enough to leave out a change of clothes for you, and Bruce passed you on your way out. Though you did ask him where Thor had gone off to, and he merely gave a weak shrug. There was no need to press him further. Coming down the stairs, you spied Tony and Steve out in the yard- … “Are they chopping wood?” Asked of Laura as you came into the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder with a shrug and a smile. “Seemed like they needed something to do. I couldn’t turn down the opportunity for some help around the farm.”

“Can’t argue with that.” They were both probably still wound up. And much as you took some extended time to watch Tony swing that axe above his head and down in hard even strikes, checkered button down tied around his waist- ...right now was not a good time for ogling. “Do you need any help in here?”

Waving you over, “You need something to do, too, huh? Mind helping with the salad?” Giving a little point to the counter where she had several vegetables laying out in wait, a big sharp knife, and a rather large bowl.

“Sure.” You could chop up a salad. No problem. Not hard at all. What was difficult was making food back to back with her in her kitchen. In silence. With too many questions. So much so that… eventually you really couldn’t help yourself. “Can I ask you something?”

“How I do it?”

You felt rather caught as she asked that nearly immediately. “That obvious?”

“You looked like someone punched you in the gut when you came in- no offense- and I’d like to not take any either, so I assume it wasn’t really directed at me.” Her tone was soft and understanding. So it was easy to not take offense to that, or worry about over-showing your own emotions. The problem was you really had no idea what to say. Thankfully she helped. “I was surprised, you know, when Fury said he’d picked the two of you out for this team thing.”

However, you almost wished that there had been a drag of silence instead of that. “Oh. You knew Fury too?” Trying to not give your disdain away through tone. Probably failing.

“Sure. We were close, for a little while. Had him over for dinner a few times. He’s been very good to this family.”

A very good reason not to speak ill of him, you supposed. “Did you work at SHIELD?”

“Absolutely not.” She spat this out with a little bit of a laugh. “No- actually- if you’d believe we live in such a small world, I interned at Stark Industries a few summers while I was in college.”

Small world indeed. And getting smaller all the time. “Really? What department?”

“Nothing important. I’m pretty sure I was the secretary’s secretary’s secretary. Fetching coffee, filing papers. That sort of thing.” You were nodding along as she spoke, even though she couldn’t see it. “I can’t imagine running a company and doing… this is easy.”

“No more easy than sitting up at night with kids wondering if your husband is going to come home, right?” You didn’t mean this maliciously- hoped she wouldn’t take it that way.

Luck held in your favor as she hummed out a breath. “This is… relatively new, you know. SHIELD was one thing. Then one day aliens are coming to a city miles and miles away and somehow Clint’s picked to deal with it. ...you sure you need him?”

There was probably one reason she was asking this- and you were sure it had nothing to do with the fact that Clint was most certainly lurking around. Maybe she had no idea he was in the next room. You did, though. You tried to not let it temper your answer too much. “We do. He’s saved our asses more than once. And out of everyone, he always makes the right directional calls. He was doing this a lot longer than most of us. Except Nat, I guess. Maybe not the aliens thing but… the missions.” It only occurred to you the other reason she was asking. “But… if he’d like to retire…”

Her one-note laugh was a little sour. “That’s not up to me.”

“Sure it is. You don’t expect me to believe he’d stay with us if you told him to come home, do you?”

The two of you turned to look at one another. A passing but understanding glance. Her grin was sad. “I can’t ask him to turn his back on saving the world.”

“Yeah.” Sadness taking hold of you, too, then. “I get it.”

She looked upset for a split second, like she understood it. She probably did. But instead of giving any advice about late nights wondering if someone would come home alive or- god what would I tell the kids?- she offered a little bit more of a real and warm smile. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for this family.”

This you weren’t expecting, though. “Me? I haven’t done anything. I didn’t even know you existed until two hours ago.”

“Clint tells me you’re the brains behind the operation. The reason we have a diverse portfolio and more than enough money to survive.”

“Oh. Well- Hawkeye toys sell themselves. But, sure. I’ll take credit for his salary bump. I like to think I’m a little more accommodating than SHIELD.” Allowing yourself one little grin. One little dig.

“No less dangerous, though.” Her eyes dropped and you worried about what she would say next. “He also tells me you do more than enough. Cleaning up all the mess. I know that can’t be easy.”

This was too hard to deal with. So flippancy came quickly with a shrug of your shoulders. “Someone has to.”

“Yeah. Someone does.”

It was hard to tell what she was getting at- and you didn’t have time to decipher it as Clint finally stopped sneaking around and made an appearance from around the corner. He came over, leaning in to press a kiss to her hair and then murmured something to her. A feeling of realization came over her and she looked a little sheepish. “Hey- food’s about done. Would you mind letting Bruce and Natasha know?”

The change of subject was so abrupt it left you blinking a few times over. “Bruce is upstairs taking a shower. Do you know where Nat is?”

Laura was a fraction away from a smirk with a little roll of her eyes as she turned away. “Same direction.”

Hm. You really hoped… they weren’t doing anything you’d regret walking in on. Though it was nice that they were finding some mutual comfort.

...a little too much. In a terrible way- different than what you’d expected.

But as soon as you’d gotten upstairs and were about to knock on the door, you heard Nat. And you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Not really. It was just a little too hard not to after hearing her muffled voice behind that door. “-you still think you’re the only monster on the team?”

Really. Honestly. This was clearly a private conversation. You needed to turn away or interrupt it. But Bruce answering her, “So what? We disappear?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Were they honestly talking about leaving? Ditching the team? It was just that easy? Natasha spoke again. “We keep moving.”

Maybe you would have continued to listen in, though it was none of your business. It hurt your heart to hear two people you considered family talking about running away from everything- but a strike of surprise hit you sideways. Not just anyone’s. Tony’s.

It had you turning away. Hurrying downstairs. Putting a hand on the door outside looking at Steve who was suddenly all alone, “Where did Tony go?” Steve looked up at you. “He went into the barn. Something about a broken tractor.”

Laura called you from the kitchen. “Can you give me a hand with this?”

“One second!” Calling back and then rushing out into the yard, ignoring Steve’s questioning glance. Moving as quick as you could without actually running. Tony’s initial shock had died down into something uneasy instead- mixed with a familiar sense of dread.

It was why you almost weren’t as surprised as he’d apparently been, as you opened the barn door- And saw him, wrench in one hand, leaning against the side of the aforementioned busted tractor. Talking to Nick Fury, who was sitting on a bale of hay.

“What are you doing here?” Quickly you shut the door behind you.

“Nice to see you, too.” He looked up at you briefly and then very quickly looked down at his hands.

Tony gave you a small wave. “Hey, honey.” His voice held a small tremble, something that pulled you closer to him. “Did I pocket dial you on accident?” Knowing, probably, why you’d appeared suddenly.

Putting a hand up his arm, you inspected him a little closer. “You okay? He do something to you?”

“Not yet. He just showed up uninvited.”

“Oh so like always.”

Fury spoke up. “You know. I’m sitting right here.”

Turning towards him, you crossed your arms tight. “You are. Sorry to cut your conversation short but I need to ask you something.” It was now or never, right? Fury was off the grid. There would be no telling when you saw him next.

“What now?”

You leveled a hard look at him. “Did SHIELD run experiments on me in 1990? Were you responsible?”

Maybe it was that he wasn’t expecting you to know about that, or maybe he just wasn’t ready, but he became momentarily stunned. Then there was a bit of odd distress that bubbled up. And very suddenly he was standing- and not looking at you again. His hands went in his pockets as he paced. “You unleash an AI with murderous intent on the world, and yet still everything’s gotta be about you.”

He seemed a little… off. Was it right? To think Fury would be so put out by you figuring something out? That he wouldn’t have an excuse ready? Was that really the Fury you knew? Maybe whatever he’d been doing in retirement had dulled him.

“It’s a yes or no question.” You remained firm. This might have been your now-or-never moment. “Did you authorize-”

“Now is really not the time for this.” The wave of his hand was dismissive. He was trying to play it cool. But everything else that only you could sense was sweating. Afraid. He was afraid of something.

And that was very, very bad. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Me?” There was a tiny little uptick in his tone. “Nothing’s wrong with me. How about we talk about Ultron and how you’re gonna clean up your mess.” Deflecting. Still unable to look at you. He honestly seemed like he might bolt out the back door.

This was not- this was not normal. Not for him. He couldn’t be so scared that you’d finally unearthed the truth, right? If Nick Fury was mad about something you were responsible for, he’d be right in your face, and be damned whatever else you were asking for. But this? He was practically about to run.

Some sense of responsibility pulled Tony into speaking. “Look- we’ll figure this out-”

But you held up a hand to stop him. Something was not right here. All the hairs on the back of your neck were standing. Whatever sort of sense you had for something being wrong with someone- ... wasn’t that all you did? Wasn’t that what you were good for?

Well. It was ringing like crazy.

And it was why you let your primary focus go. Why you let your gaze fog up as you dropped below into that space that belonged only to you. That was supposed to be part of you. That was supposed to help you be more than what you were. Damn where it came from.

What you saw was… Fury. Sort of. But it almost looked like he was drawn over. Like something was outlining him. Almost like the vision of control that others had. But not quite. Getting closer to inspect it, it was almost like a… it was vibrating. Alive.

But one touch- just a single touch of your pointer finger at his heart-

Shattered the whole thing-

And before you could even see what you’d done, Tony’s sudden paralyzing fear, coupled with a sharp yank of your arm dragged you right back to the surface. Your vision cleared.

His fear became your own very quickly. You double-tapped the Heart Reactor without even thinking, and held your hand up to charge up a repulsor shot.

Nick Fury was no longer standing in front of you. But what was-

Something green with pointed ears, still wearing Nick’s clothes, and as it turned to look at you, pitch back eyes- You weren’t successful in keeping your voice firm. “What are you?”

The thing put its hands up- only just now realizing the hands that he was supposed to have were no longer there. Then the frantic starting shouted. “Wait wait wait!!” Speaking rather perfect english… accented, too. Strangely. ...Australian, maybe? “Wait- don’t shoot-”

Tony came shoulder to shoulder with you, pointing. “You have ten seconds before she puts a hole through you.”

“Okay okay alright! Just wait!”

“Eight seconds.”

“I’m just a stand-in- look- look alright- I can get Fury on the phone for you- don’t shoot me-” He lifted a communicator out of his pocket.

This was one thing too many. What were you supposed to do with this? What were you supposed to think about this? But really… the only thing you couldn’t stop thinking- the only thing you couldn’t stop wondering-

How long had Nick Fury been an alien?

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Sixty Three

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gcnnerpaxton · 4 years

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bri again making a terrible decision. do i need a fourth? no.......... bt here we are anyway. after this i promise im done fr a while bt :/ i lov this lil bitch so here we are........ give this a like if u wld b Down to Clown w him aka plot!

「axel auriant & cismale」⇾ paxton , gunner, the senior radcliffe student’s records show that he is a leo and 22 years old. he is studying film, living off campus and can be loyal, resilient, anxious & indifferent. when i see him i am reminded of curling up in bed for days in a hello kitty comfort shirt, the click of a camera shutter & hand-me-down’s two sizes too big.

pinterest is HERE.

TW’S FOR ABUSE, VIOLENCE, MISSING CHILD, KIDNAPPING, DEPRESSION, ANXIETY, AND INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA BELOW!

stats.

name: gunner brick paxton.

age: twenty-two.

gender identity: cis-male.

pronouns: he/him.

sexuality: demisexual.

birthday: july 31, 1998.

star sign: leo.

myers-briggs: istj.

year of study: senior.

major: film.

occupation: librarian.

place of birth: laramie, wyoming.

religion: catholic (non-practicing).

background.

neen jst brought in gunner’s older brother so fr those who read elias’ bio u kno tht gunner is the middle paxton child w eli being the oldest n then they have wyatt who is the youngest!!

they lived at the top of a hill in a trailer in a trailer park neighbourhood in laramie, wyoming so to say the least that fucking sucked for everyone involved

the trailer was so small that all 3 boys ended up sharing a room, gunner and wyatt sharing a bunk bed bc they cldnt fit 3 beds into one room it really was every childs nightmare bt they quickly grew used to it tbh

gunner was always more of an artsy child than invested in sports - though he does enjoy baseball and continued even to this day after their dad made him join SOMETHING in middle school - so he never rly earned their father’s respect, but he was always close with his mom since they had the same calm temperament

DEPRESSION/ANXIETY TW - he also gained a list of mental health issues that their mom had as well, including social anxiety and major depressive disorder - DEPRESSION/ANXIETY TW END

VIOLENCE/ABUSE TW - their father always encouraged pretty volatile behaviour and it caused a lot of physical fights and arguments between the brothers when their dad told them the best way to get over it was to start hurting until someone tapped out, it was just a chaotic and pretty abusive household but no one knew and their mom definitely wasn’t going to say anything about it to their dad - VIOLENCE/ABUSE TW END

MISSING CHILD/KIDNAPPING TW - wyatt went missing on a weekend that their parents were gone because of a trip they won, and things just got worse from there

ANXIETY/DEPRESSION TW - high school was really rough for gunner, his anxiety grew worse as time went on that no one found wyatt, their dad grew more hostile towards them, and their mom just grew sicker, it was rare that she would ever leave her room and if she did it was in fits of random energy where she would do something spontaneous and completely unnecessary to their house as a way of coping - MISSING CHILD/KIDNAPPING/ANXIETY/DEPRESSION TW END

the two years that gunner was at home after elias finally left for school were basically torture and as soon as he could, he was falling his brother’s footsteps in getting out of wyoming to go to school at radcliffe

INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA TW - things are far better now that they’re out of their home situation, but gunner’s going through some more things personally now; the paxton’s were raised in an incredibly religious household, and he’s got some classic Catholic Guilt going on upon realizing that he’s not jst attracted to women n he avoided talking abt it forever/stayed in the closet fr far too long bt he’s sort of come out now in his own way even tho he does still get a bit nervous talking abt it rly - INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA TW END

he’s also ‘dealing’ rn which is frankly funny to think abt bc this man is abt as threatening as a care bear bt money is tight between him and eli all things considering, and with the amount of meds he’s on, plus incredibly frequent doctor’s visits, needing to pay for extra epi-pens, inhalers, etcs. bills add up so he’s cutting back his meds n selling wht he can spare which is . so unhealthy bt thts life in corporate america baybee!

details.

is literally allergic to everything. grass, cats, most fruits, milk, most nuts, bees, latex, probably more i cnt even keep up w them its pathetic

u can catch him n eli strutting around campus w matching epipen holders tht he got them fr eli’s 16th bday JKSDNGKLHSDGLK

if things cldnt get worse he also has quite intense asthma so he carries an inhaler with him at all times

n to make matters even WORSE he frequently has dizzy spells n bad memory problems bc of all the concussions he’s suffered from (about 8-9 at this point) as well as consistent migraines that can b literally debilitating sometimes

awkward n jst a bit of a Weirdo to b frank like if it weren’t fr eli he wld probably have one (1) friend he jst cnt converse w ppl

didnt have any friends in high school so took the time to teach himself rly weird things, knows a fuck ton of magic tricks, can yodel, juggle, solve a rubix cube with his eyes closed in under 2 minutes, just extremely weird and specific things

can honestly b a bit mean/barbaric to ppl he’s not close w/doesn’t kno has told ppl to their face before he doesn’t enjoy talking to them bc he has no concept of social constructs/norms

loves 2 film random things at parties, makes him feel more comfortable at them n he makes short films of them all after

update about his summer away: ended up heading to nyc fr a film internship n actually had a rly good time??? fr once?? jst had a rly nice summer fling after being a bit heartbroken throughout the school year it was jst a rly necessary n fulfilling summer fr him king of getting wht he finally deserves

this also led him to b like . oh maybe i’m Not broken bc he doesn’t realize........... demisexuality is a thing n wld get rly awkward during hookups a lot if hes jst not 100% comfortable w the person so now he thinks hes like a one man machine who actually has some Self Esteem n thinks he can have Sexual Relations all day every day (he cannot)

connections.

ppl who buy off him?? probs wld have to kno him some way hes too scared to sell to Random randoms KJSHDGKLHSDLG

other film majors :-)

some friends………. hes awkward bt he means well…………

a mans he wld Risk It All fr (aka a guy tht gunner actually has a crush on n is Extra Awkward probs a lil mean to bc hes still New to That)

ppl he has a crush on/unrequited crushes either way wtvr floats ur boat

some enemies tbh much like elias he has a temper n he tends to blow up rarely bt it happens n when it does it actually can b quite scary JKSHDGLHSDG

a muse….. mayhaps?? someone he always wants in his film projects

awkward past hook ups maybe some current ones teehee

anything Ur Heart Desires

#ruhqintro #abuse tw #violence tw #missing child tw #kidnapping tw #depression tw #anxiety tw #internalized homophobia tw #yeesh dabs my forehead at all these tw's................#SKLDGHLKSDHGKLSDHGKLSDG

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plaidstiel-wormstache · 4 years

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Our Vices - pt1

A/N: Spoilers for s15. This is a two parter, and I’m pretty proud of it as a whole! Warnings: SPOILERS for s15, mentions of supernatural violence, death, angst, relationship difficulties, domestic troubles, fluff Characters: Dean, Sam x Reader, Donna, Doug, mentions of Jessica Moore Word Count: 1902 Summary: Set after s15 e3 - Dean and YN worry about Sam and convince him a hunt is what he needs, but words are said, feelings are hurt and things aren’t right between the couple. Another hunt might just fix that. Might. Beta: @wi-deangirl77 answers for my sanity, me FINALLY posting this. Thank you for going through this too many times and encouraging me to do my best.

YN was already in the kitchen, bacon sizzling in the pan. “Morning,” Dean said as he entered, headed straight for the freshly brewed coffee. “Hey,” YN answered wearily. Dean paused as he reached for two mugs, looking over at her, the dark circles under her eyes. “How is he this morning?” He asked. “Same, tossed and turned, I had to get out.” Dean hummed, thinking, handing a mug of coffee to her as she offered the spatula to him. As they traded places, YN stayed close, resting against the sink. “He’s barely been outta that room. I don’t know what to do.” She confessed. “Yeah, it’s taking a toll.” Dean agreed. “It’s taking a toll on us all,” YN turned to face Dean, “And I get it, we all handle it differently, but-“ “He killed Rowena, YN, she was in his arms, looking into his eyes-” “I’m not arguing that-” “Different to what we’re used to’s all I’m saying.” “I get it. I do.” YN sighed and rested back against the sink, “I can’t fathom the mental rings you run around yourself on making that decision, but Dean... he’s not talking to me, not to you, no one. I’m worried about him.” “I’ll have a word.” “I’m scared-”

Sam woke with a start, looking over to the other side of the bed as he sat up, pulling both hands through his hair then down his face. The nightmare was so real, he’d killed YN so easily, and it made him sick. Sick at the thought he could get satisfaction from the power that had surged through him in his dream, sick that he didn’t feel anything when he’d killed YN... then killed Dean. Sam didn’t know if he wanted to see YN, be wrapped in her warm embrace, her easy love, soothed and comforted, or if he wanted to hide from her, like she’d see what he did, that he enjoyed it. He pushed himself off the bed and padded out to the kitchen, finding Dean and YN in there, voices low, standing close, heads together. YN was the first to look up, breaking apart from the older Winchester.

“Morning,” She offered. “You weren’t-” “Yeah, started breakfast, couldn’t really sleep,” YN said, cutting Sam off. “I slept great, thanks.” Dean interjected, already feeling the mood of the room shift. YN went for the coffee machine as Sam approached, filling her mug and handing it to him. “Thanks,” Sam mumbled, frowning as she left without a further word. “She okay?” He asked Dean, staring after her. “Are you?” Dean countered. Here we go again, Sam thought, he’d just rather have time to himself, try and sort through his thoughts. He left the bench for a seat at the kitchen table, sitting with his back to his brother. “I’m just saying-” Dean began over the sound of plates, and the scraping of a pan. “I know what you’re saying.” Sam interjected. Dean planted the plate of bacon down on the table and sat down opposite. “You barely leave your room anymore, man. You need to get out, clear your head.”

***

YN played interesting games, always had, but they infuriated Dean, even her turn for I-Spy annoyed him. She was too smart, too educated, and she flaunted it. “A fuckin’ indicator? How the shit was I ever gonna get that?” “Cause you use one, oh that’s right you d-” “Okay, come on.” Sam tried to cut in. Dean jabbed his finger into the centre panel, jamming the radio on, then flicking to the tape deck, turning the volume up on his latest find, an old cassette of Van Halen live in concert. “Dean!” YN whined, a smile on her face when Sam glanced over his shoulder. “Sorry, can’t hear you!” Dean called out, too loud when Sam turned down the volume, “Come one, man!” “Can we just focus on the case?” Sam asked, making both Dean and YN sigh and sit back in their seats. “Of course we can, Sam, what’ve you found?” YN questioned, jabbing a finger into Dean’s shoulder when he wobbled his head. She knew he was pulling a face while mouthing an impression of Serious-Sam. “Well, there’s this discrepancy here,” He said, handing the iPad back to YN to look over.

***

They had checked in at a motel on the border of town, spent the day shaking down the local police, questioning witnesses, and chasing down dead ends when they all finally called it a night, returning to the motel after a late dinner at the only bar open. Sam had climbed into bed and fallen asleep almost immediately, while Dean and YN moved around the room getting ready for bed, sharing thoughts on the case, but soon both were dead to the world. YN stirred in the middle of the night, feeling something wasn’t right, she listened for a while, listened to the man she loved whimper and whisper. Then he woke, sitting up and curling over.

“Another nightmare?” YN asked, eyes barely open as she reached for Sam’s back, circling it with the palm of her hand. He turned toward her, shifting down the bed, dipping his head to her chest, curling into her, his arm on her stomach, hand over her heart, feeling the rhythm, the life beating through her. YN let the broad man tuck himself close, like a child snuggling up to its mother, the closer: the safer. Trailing patterns over his shoulders and brushing soft fingers through his hair, she felt his breath over her chest beginning to slow from the frantic panting he’d done in his sleep. “You called out for Jess in your sleep, again.” She whispered after a minute. “She was right there, I could touch her, reach her, but I couldn’t...” Sam choked on his words. “Sweetheart, the last thing she saw was you. You trying to save her.” YN cooed. “Trying and failing.” Sam sobbed. “No, baby, she saw you trying.” Sam’s breath caught as he sniffled. “Jess… the last thing she saw- she knew, was you were there. She knew you were trying to save her, and in that thought is a bit of peace.” YN pressed quietly, crooking her neck awkwardly to press her lips to his hair. Sam’s hand shifted from her chest to her rib cage and he pulled her tightly into him, holding her.

Dean had woken to the murmuring coming from the other bed, he knew Sam struggled; fifteen years and all the shit they’d gone through, it was a miracle they weren’t psychopaths or worse. But unlike Dean, Sam couldn’t find a way to justify their decisions, the deaths that surrounded them, Dean knew he was lying to himself when he explained it away at night, Sam’s brain just wasn’t wired like that.

“Tell me how you met Jess?” YN whispered into the night, her fingers still lazily stroking through Sam’s hair. “A fr-- we met at a party.” Sam quietly explained, the pain in his voice evident. “What was she studying?” YN prodded. “Educational psychology, she wanted to be a teacher and double as a counselor.” “She sounds like she had it figured out.” “She did, she was so… every decision she made was like, she knew what she wanted to do, she was topping the secondary teacher education class and... she just knew exactly what she was going to do, where she wanted to work, she had it all planned out.” “Where did she wanna work?”

Dean smiled to himself as he listened to the two, he was happy Sam had someone to talk to about all that. He wouldn’t have even known Sam was having nightmares if YN wasn’t around, he doubted Sam would even open up to him about Jess. But Dean also couldn’t help but wonder if YN knew Sam was going to propose to Jess, if she knew Sam had been ready to settle down if it hadn’t been for his big brother pulling him back in. What would YN think if she didn’t know and Sam told her?

“You were both so lucky to have each other, to share a love like that.” YN breathed, her fingers stilling in Sam’s hair. He frowned against her breast and tilted his head up, trying to see her face in the dark. YN’s eyes were open, her stare fixed on the ceiling. “You know I-” Sam began, but her eyes quickly found his and she interrupted. “What we have is so different, Sam,” Her hand cupped his cheek, thumb running back and forth over his temple, “No love is ever the same.” YN looked over his face, his nose and brow standing out in the street light filtering through the dusty, torn, woolen curtain. He blinked and then craned his neck, reaching for her lips, pressing a brief kiss to them when she raised her head. When she lay back, he stretched out and followed her, pressing his lips to hers once more, holding her in that moment for longer, hoping that his thanks was without judgement.

Dean could feel the tension in the air, thick and uncomfortable, and when he heard the hard breath only noses made when they were pressed against another’s face, he was plunged into a situation he never wanted to be in. At the next telltale noise of lips breaking apart, he did the only thing he could think of. He groaned loudly as he pulled the blankets up further, “If you two are gonna fuck, you’re gonna need to get another room.” He rolled onto his front and pulled his pillow over his head. He could hear the slight sound of one of them snorting a laugh and just like that the tension melted like ice under boiling water.

***

It was a tough hunt, not just physically either. When it became clear it was a couple, they managed to catch them, but they weren’t expecting one to be a human. They weren’t expecting him to try and explain it away, for her to promise she’d never hurt anyone again, for him to sacrifice himself to try and save her. It was tough. And it didn’t become apparent that they’d handle it in their own ways until they got back to the motel room.

“Well… that sucked but, hey, job well done!” YN congratulated as they dropped the bags back in the motel room. “How can you be happy at a time like this?” Sam accused. YN froze, the smile faltered on her face, “Cause if I’m not happy, then I’m wallowing in something dark, and that’s a deep well I can’t fall down.” “Well, it’s messed up. It wasn’t a job done well.” He pushed. “Sammy, leave her be.” Dean tried, “She meant well-” “Meant well? We just killed a couple of kids... for what? Cause she was forced into that life? He was trying to help her best he could?” Sam burst. The smile disappeared, her shoulders slumped, the weight of the world back to rest upon her. Her eyes began to brim, her gaze dropping with the first tear. “I’m just... I’ll...” she stammered as she picked up her bag and left the room. “Nice one, Sam.” Dean chastised, heading for the bathroom, slamming the door. The shower clunked to life, pipes squealing, the water hitting the curtain. “I just...” Sam sighed, he didn’t know what he wanted. But he ruined it. Ruined her.

Part 2

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johannesviii · 4 years

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Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2007

18 to 19 years old. Things were slowly starting to get better and better.

15 honorable mentions, but this is still only a top 10. What an incredible, amazing year for music. My favorite hit song for the entire decade is in there! I think everyone already knows what that is because I am, in fact, extremely predictable.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

Second to third year of my History studies. Met a great guy. So great, in fact, that I married him in 2019 because we’re still living together 13 years later. Got my first summer job but spent my first pay on driving lessons, because, again, I needed to get out of my parents’ appartment and knowing how to drive would be good to find a job. I had a much better access to internet. I still had great grades. Things were getting much better.

I stopped making my personal lists of favorite songs that year, and I had an mp3 player, which really opened a world of possibilities even if you could only put something like 40 songs on it, at best.

I was still reading Rock Mag a lot. As you can see, the biggest controversy at the time was what was emo and what wasn’t.

We were alright.

As far as non-elligible songs go, well there’s I Still Remember by Bloc Party (and the fact I can’t put it on the list is a heartbreak and a half) and basically everything from Year Zero by Nine Inch Nails. Nightwish, Epica and Within Temptation all had pretty good albums too.

Here’s a metric ton of honorable mentions first!

Snow (Red Hot Chili Peppers) - Perfectly pleasant song.

D.A.N.C.E (Justice) - Never understood why this was so popular. Still good.

Love is Gone (David Guetta) - Heyyyy another repetitive dance track, perfect.

Miracle (Cascada), Smack That (Akon), Chasing Cars (Snow Patrol), SexyBack (Justin Timberlake) and Say It Right (Nelly Furtado & Timbaland) - Still elligible songs for that year. Still great songs. Still not making the list.

Butterfly (Superbus) - I didn’t like this band, but I liked that song.

Thanks for the Memories (Fall Out Boy) - Same here basically.

Who Knew (Pink) - Not her best, but not her worst by a mile either.

Walk It Out (Unk) - Stayed in my head for days, I swear. I have no idea what the general opinion about it is nowadays. Maybe that’s a humiliating pick and I genuinely have no idea.

Crank That (Soulja Boy) - I do, however, know that the fact this very nearly made the list IS hilarious.

Alive (Mondotek) - Laugh all you want about the tektonik phenomenon, this is still a banger and a half.

Sound of Freedom (Bob Sinclar & Cutee B) - Not as good as Rock This Party. That’s the only thing I can say against it.

Umbrella (Rihanna) - This is an edit because holy shit I forgot Umbrella. It very nearly made the list too. Sorry.

And now, possibly one of the best top tens yet.

10 - This Ain’t A Scene, It’s An Arms Race (Fall Out Boy)

US: #32 / FR: #71

Almost everyone got the lyrics wrong. The title is way too long. I really don’t like this band of pretentious idiots; if you’re gonna be pretentious at least write about something more grand and epic than your own navel, and go all out (more on that later). Nobody ever really cared about their supposed feud with Panic! At The Disco. And, to make matters even worse, the singer looked exactly like the terrible ex I had punched in the face the previous year.

This is still a damn good song and it’s on the list instead of any of the honorable mentions.

RIP me.

9 - How To Save A Life (The Fray)

US: #24 / FR: Not on the list

You already know I loved The Fray. This song could have apparently also made the previous list but it’s on this one instead. It was overplayed. I still loved it.

8 - U + Ur Hand (Pink)

US: #29 / FR: Not on the list

In 2002, I bought Pink’s Missundaztood album and as you might remember this was the second album I ever bought in my life, right before the gigantic trainwreck that highschool was.

The fact that about five years (that felt like twelve) later, Pink was on the other side of that trainwreck, back in my earphones, just as energetic and fun as she was before, was nothing short of heartwarming.

7 - Je Suis Un Homme (Zazie)

US: Not on the list / FR: #43

I’m not gonna beat around the bush. This song is terrifying.

Here’s a translation. Yeah, it’s about humanity destroying the Earth and itself in various ways, and it’s preachy, but holy shit, how can something be so bleak, so scary and still so catchy. It’s a mystery.

6 - Double Je (Christophe Willem)

US: Not on the list / FR: #2

When I first heard this song, I genuinely thought that was also Zazie and I was like oh wow, she’s learned to have fun again after that bleak, bleak song.

But no. She only wrote it, and it’s sung by this guy. It’s relatable as hell (”When I grow up it’s gonna be easy, I’ll finally know what I am”, “Who’s fault is it? / I’m something and its opposite / Double me”). The fact that a guy had this kind of voice and that a ton of people loved it (enough for him to win a big talent show and make this the second biggest song of the year!) also did wonders for my dysphoria, by the way.

5 - Ta Meuf (Faf Larage)

US: Not on the list / FR: #19

This is a song applying the most obnoxious rap and hip hop clichés about gangsters (and guys in general) to a woman, and she ends up terrorising all the guys and they’re realising these clichés might, in fact, be really toxic.

It’s a great song about gender roles usually seen in this kind of music and instead of being preachy, it’s hilarious, and well-written (I mean, it’s Faf Larage, it’s a given, but still). Check it out.

4 - Relax Take It Easy (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #12

All hail the new king of pop. He was here to stay and what a breath of fresh air he was. This was very much his year in Europe as soon as the album Life In Cartoon Motion dropped.

My significant other absolutely loved this album and we listened to it wayyyy, way too much, and even with all the radio overplay AND the overplay when we were together, I still can’t get enough of this album.

3 - Love Today (Mika)

US: Not on the list / FR: #39

Here he is again!

If this was any other year this would top the list very easily. What were the US even thinking back then to not let this guy chart. Why isn’t Mika a huge star over there too. What is your problem guys. Do you have something against fun or what.

Anyway, here’s possibly the best comment on the music video:

I mean. You’re not wrong.

2 - What I’ve Done (Linkin Park)

US: #38 / FR: Not on the list

Aaaaaaand they’re back. And they’re once again topping my list. Lord have mercy on me. I loved them so much.

This was the first step into their modern sound, less raw, more U2. A couple of years later, when Lacuna Coil released Shallow Life, I used to joke that Lacuna Coil was trying to sound more and more like Linkin Park, that Linkin Park was trying to sound more and more like U2, and that U2 was trying to sound more and more like boring garbage and. I mean. I wasn’t wrong there.

My absolute favorite part of the song is at 2:24, when the music calms down a bit and the lyrics go “I start again / And whatever pain may come / Today this ends / I’m forgiving what I’ve done” and then the guitar explodes again. So powerful. Love it.

And now you’re probably thinking “so... Linkin Park was back, and with such a top quality song and it’s NOT your #1? After you put a Linkin Park song or a Linkin Park remix at #1 for three years in a row in 2002, 2003 AND 2004? What’s going on, Jo? Are you okay?”

Oh I’m more than okay. Friends and enemies, here comes the absolute best hit song of the entire decade and possibly of my entire life so far.

You probably already know what it is.

1 - Welcome to the Black Parade (My Chemical Romance)

US: #59 / FR: Not on the list (shame on you French charts)

I know I keep complaining about stuff I love not charting, or charting but not high enough to make any year-end list, but... How was this even allowed to chart. Why and how did it end up on the US year-end list when so many more radio-friendly hits I loved couldn’t even scratch the hot 100.

I’m not complaining at all. I’m just baffled.

Play the first note on a piano and I’m already a wreck. Heck, I’m pretty sure everyone from my generation is. It was basically our very own Bohemian Rhapsody. It still is. Where do I even start.

Oh. I know. Look at this page from a 2006 Rock Mag, it’s gold.

Yep, they highlighted The Open Door by Evanescence and praised it, and were like “this is very risky and ambitious and we’re not sure you’re gonna like this” for The Black Parade by My Chemical Romance. Hilarious in hindsight.

A few months later, the same magazine was desesperately using double pages to interview them because everyone adored the album.

So in case you’ve never listened to it (I’m... not even sure why I’m doing this since I’m pretty sure even people who don’t like this type of music have tried to out of sheer curiosity), it’s a concept album about a guy (...possibly. I mean there’s a lot of trans and/or nonbinary hints in the lyrics and did you really NEED to make all of this more relatable? What the hell guys) dying of cancer, remembering all the good and the bad things that happened in his life, and since his fondest memory is seeing a marching band once as a child, death arrives in the form of a marching band. He then settles some scores with his friends and family, says his goodbyes, and... and doesn’t die in the end. He ends up surviving the whole ordeal, and the last song, Famous Last Words, is one the most incredible things I’ve ever heard. It’s so propulsive, uplifting and motivating. “I am not afraid to keep on living / I am not afraid to walk this world alone”. Holy. Shit. Sadly, it’s not elligible.

Welcome to the Black Parade is basically the centerpiece of the album, as you already know or might have guessed, but here’s the thing. It also works out of context because there’s already an entire narrative arc within this one song. It’s larger than life. It’s about death and the meaning of existence. It basically contains all the stages of grief, and the conclusion it reaches is that this guy will be remembered and therefore, he will transcend death. It’s full of rage and passion and triumph. There’s key changes. There’s tempo changes. There’s everything. It’s a rock opera in a single song. I put it on my mp3 player immediately after listening to the album, and it’s still on my mp3 player today. I never, ever removed it. I listened to it countless times and every single time, it feels like rewatching one of my favorite movies.

Best hit song of 2007 by a mile. Best hit song of the decade, hands down, and now that the 2010s are over, I’m pretty confident in saying nothing has topped it so far. I’d say “fight me” if I thought this was a controversial opinion, but it’s not even that controversial.

And that feels damn right.

Next up: Is... is this a list with actual filler? Are you telling us there was ONE mediocre year for music in the 2000s? Sounds fake but okay

#Johannes’ bad not good pretty terrible music lists #music #long post #flashing lights #eye contact tw

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loyolahcmass · 4 years

Text

Homily on Tiger King

This week Fr. Rossi will be talking about the show Tiger King! Here is the preview of his homily:

The “Tiger King” Dethroned “I don’t think we’re done blowing s--- up today.” Joe Exotic Last month, the most-watched show in America was a seven-part documentary series about a gay, polygamous zoo owner in Oklahoma. Joseph Maldonado-Passage (“Joe Exotic”), breeds tigers, commissions and stars in his own country-music videos and presides over what he describes as “my little cult” of drifters and much younger men. To top it off, he ran for governor of Oklahoma in 2018 on a libertarian platform. He’s also currently serving a 22-year prison sentence for, among other charges, trying to arrange the assassination of his nemesis, an animal-sanctuary owner in Florida. __________ There are no heroes in the Tiger King saga. “Nobody wins,” as one character says. Not Joe Exotic, with his stripy mullet and blue-green sequined jacket. Not Carole Baskin, the owner of a Florida sanctuary for big cats, who Tiger King insinuates—in a strikingly un-journalistic way—might have killed her husband. And definitely not Eric Goode, the New York animal-rights activist who co-directed the series, and whose disdain for the dentally-challenged and leopard-print characters is abundantly apparent. __________ And yet Tiger King still consumes the pop-cultural imagination a month after its last episode. It’s the stuff memes are made of, a carnival sideshow. The more scurrilous or degrading the concept, the more Netflix hopes we’ll watch. __________ America right now, in the midst of a pandemic, is reliant on collective behavior, adhering to rules, and taking sensible precautions to avoid danger. Tiger King is the TV equivalent of licking a NYC subway pole. Its characters have managed to construct whole worlds around themselves rather than curtail their worst impulses in any way. They’re any documentarian’s dream, and yet you can’t help but wonder what the directors hope to get out of giving these showmen the mass exposure that they desperately want. __________ On its face, Tiger King is about a remarkable subculture in the U.S.: people who collect and (illegally) breed big cats. There are, the show reveals early on, more privately-owned tigers living in America than there are existing in the wild. In 2003, authorities discovered that a man in Harlem was cohabiting with a 400-pound tiger named Ming, in the same apartment that his mother was using to babysit children. __________ Joe Exotic, for better or worse, is the show’s central character, and Tiger King sketches out a sparse biography that only hints at the forces that shaped him. The challenge seems to be that anything he says is stated in the service of inflating his own mystique. Including how he reacts after one of his employees is mauled by a tiger while at work. “I’m never gonna financially recover from this,” Exotic sighs, while the rest of his employees try to tend to the victim’s severed arm. __________ Hardest to endure is how he behaves at the funeral for his youngest husband, Travis, who accidentally shoots himself in the head. Dressed up like a minister, Exotic seizes the spotlight. He sings, cracks jokes, and reminisces fondly about his late partner’s private parts while Travis’s mother sobs. __________ Mostly, though, Exotic communes with tigers. He cuddles them while they’re riding shotgun in the front seat of his truck; he wrestles with them; he uses a steel hook to wrest newborn cubs from their mothers and then complains that the screaming babies are making too much noise. Tiger King’s unified theory of tiger obsession falls short, however, when it reaches Carole Baskin, the owner of a Florida animal sanctuary devoted to big cats. This shortcoming might explain why the show takes such pains to portray her as a kook, and possibly even a murderer. Baskin is Exotic’s bête noire, a woman who has dedicated her career to trying to outlaw the breeding and personal ownership of exotic cats in the U.S. __________ The show’s treatment of Baskin is where it indulges in its most egregious displays of false equivalence, as it tries to elevate her eccentricities to stand alongside those of Exotic. Baskin, Tiger King painstakingly lays out, is obsessed with animal print. Sometimes she wears flower crowns! She has an uncanny gift for search-engine optimization! She rides a bicycle! Her sanctuary relies heavily on unpaid volunteers! The show underscores all these facts, while making the most of the mysterious disappearance of Carole’s husband in 1997 and interviewing family members who seem convinced that she killed him. __________ “There is absolutely no physical evidence at this time” implicating any one individual as a suspect,” a police detective firmly and rather crushingly points out. Tiger King doesn’t care. It would much rather imply several times that she could have fed her husband’s corpse to tigers, had she been so inclined. In this, it has succeeded wildly: just check out the number of internet memes that insist she did the deed! __________ The degradation in Tiger King starts to feel contagious after a while. The directors filmed the series over five years, and the longer they spend with their subjects, the more obviously things fall apart. One of Exotic’s ex-husbands, John Finlay, gives shirtless interviews that show off his abundant tribal tattoos and his undeniable lack of teeth. (Not until Episode 5 does Tiger King stop to note that meth has been a prevalent factor in Exotic’s world the whole time.) The interviews become more and more invasive. Travis’s mother is asked about her son’s death while she’s seemingly intoxicated. __________ Exotic is the only one who appears unchanged, even as the plot makes its way toward his 22-year jail sentence for conspiring to have Baskin assassinated. The persona he’s crafted, you sense, is strong enough to survive anything, even prison. No misfortune can shake his sense of self. No humiliation can shame a man who refuses to be shamed. __________ Even now, he’s fast approaching cultural-legend status, as Hollywood stars spar on Twitter over who gets to play him in the already-approved miniseries. “Yeah, roll the cameras,” is how a reality-TV producer describes watching Exotic at his most idiosyncratic and badly behaved. Netflix obviously agreed. But the question is: why can’t the rest of us look away? After all, these days don't we need to watch something with moral substance to help us be better people in this crisis? __________ “I came so that they might have life and have it in abundance.” Gospel of John About his song “Smoke Clears,” Andy Grammer says he and his wife have had a rough year. Her grandfather passed away. He’s had fainting episodes that are mysterious in origin. But they were able to be there for each other during this dark time, more so than ever before. __________ Together! For each other! Christ sees how important that is and so does Andy Grammer. “You'll never be alone even when your world explodes 'Cause after all the smoke clears, I will be right here.” Andy Grammer, “Smoke Clears” __________ Think about it. At the end of 7 episodes of Tiger King, after everything implodes, can you name even one person who thought of anyone but themselves? That’s not the spiritual model we need to follow in the age of COVID-19.

#tiger king #joe exotic #tiger king netflix #carole baskin #tiger king show #homily #homilies #catholic homily #mass #Catholic Mass #hcm homilies #loyolahcmass

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ckret2 · 5 years

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Request Denied, Request Denied

Summary: Red and Purple are the most wildly successful Tallest the Irken Empire has had in ages. This, despite the fact that the Empire is starving, dying, and decaying around them. Series: Invader Zim Word count: 2700 Notes: I discovered that I wrote this eleven years ago and I don’t even remember writing it?? But it only needed like a few paragraphs to have a proper conclusion, so I decided to type it up and wrap up the ending. also u can tell this was written by a 16-year-old who was not quite exactly sure what world leaders do all day but assumed that it probably mainly consisted of a lot of paperwork. (For those of y’all waiting for my long-promised ISS updates—don’t take this as 100% congruent with ISS verse; I picture the ISS version of the Irken Empire to be slightly less crapsacktacular and significantly better at, like, governing itself.)

Under the rule of Almighty Tallest Red and Purple, the Irken Empire was the strongest it had ever been. The sheer size of the empire said enough about their success; and despite the fact that resistance, rebellions, and revolts against the Irkens were higher than they had ever been before, in proportion to the number of citizens under their rule, the relative percentage of the population that was fighting against its Empire had actually decreased. Sullen slaves and unconquered races outside the empire could never really understand what it was about these two particular Tallest that made them, bumbling as they were, so successful. But the answer, really, could be summed up with a simple Earthen expression:

Two heads are better than one.

In fact, the Tallest would only benefit from having quite a few more heads. Not, of course, that they'd get them.

The particular room they were standing before now seemed utterly inconspicuous—it was designed that way. There was no need for other Irkens on the Massive to know when they were passing the second most important room in the Empire, surpassed only by the vast, vault-like main chamber of the Primary Snack Warehouse on Irk itself.

The room was labeled "Foreign Visitor Toilets," and since foreigners were never allowed on the Massive, the room was never disturbed. Despite its label, it had a huge, imposing doorframe and a powerful lock; no one seemed to question this, but then the room was on a rarely-used corridor. The official name of the room was Office of the Tallest.

Red called it "a glimpse of hell."

Purple called it "reasonable justification for suicide."

And neither wanted to open the door.

"I opened it last time," Purple said.

"No you didn't, I did," Red said. "Because you said you'd done it the last time before that, too."

"Nuh-uh, I sad that the time BEFORE last time!"

"You're such a liar."

"Am not!"

"Yeah, you are."

Purple made a disgusted noise. His antennae twitched in agitation, the shafts almost vibrating. "Can't we just... get someone else to open it, and then throw 'em out the airlock?"

"No, what if someone else finds them before their head explodes from lack of air? Then they know where our office is. And can steal government secrets or something." Red wiggled his fingers, illustrating the secrets. Though he did like the idea. It was only the risk of groups like the Resisty getting their slimy little alien hands on someone who'd seen inside this room that kept him from agreeing.

Purple put his hands on his hips (which actually had taken him more practice than you'd think to master, balancing his armored guantlets on the hover belt at just the right angle to let his fingers wrap around it), but his eyes were no longer narrowed in annoyance—as they'd been for the past hour, in anticipation of this trial. Instead, they were half lidded, thoughtfully, as he regarded the door. "... What'll you give me to open the door?"

"Um..." Red reached over his shoulder into his Pak, stretching his spindly fingers to feel what he had with him. "I've got... four candy bars, some popcorn, a bag of cheese puffs, some chips..."

"What flavor?" Purple asked.

Red pulled out the bag to check. "Uh... sour fruit?"

"Sour fr— since when do they make chips out of sour fruit?"

"I'unno. That's just the flavor." Red shrugged.

Purple grabbed the bag to inspect it. "Oooh. That's NEW." As a species that survived entirely on snacks, they had to be creative to keep their diet from becoming monotonous. It is a terrible thing to grow tired of eating chips.

"Fine." Purple put the bag in his own Pak and said, "What else you got?"

What, that wasn't enough? Red thought for a moment, and then sighed. He did have something else. "Well... you... DO remember our last trip to Sintillia, don't you?"

Purple's antennae stood straight up. "Yeees?"

Sintillia was the one world that had never been on the list for conquest in either of the Operations: Impending Doom, with good reason.

The inhabitants were small, unthreatening creatures that looked like furry puffballs with hard blue gem-like eyes. Some races valued their eyes as jewelry.

That had nothing to do with the Irkens' reasons for not conquering them. They didn't like jewelry and had no sympathy for puffballs.

The reason Sintillia was protected was because of its farms. Specifically, its vast plantations, which produced a particular sugar crop that tasted sweeter than any the Irkens had ever found before and that, as far as the Irkens could tell, were unable to grow on other planets. And oh, had they TRIED to grow it on other planets. Big surprise, it turned out the Sintillates had been selectively breeding their crops to need their home planet's conditions in order to thrive. The Sintillates were willing to trade with Irk—for a steep price—but said that if they ever got so much as a hint that the Irkens were looking at their planet for conquest, they would raze their own plantations to the ground.

"Yeah... I might have a few pieces of Sintillate fudge left somewhere in my room." Red had been saving them for a special occasion, like the completion of OID-2. Or the unconditional, sudden surrender of the Sintillates, leaving the Irkens with the largest chocolate surplus they'd ever enjoyed.

"Done!" Purple tapped in the access code to the office door, and Red quickly hovered out of the way before it opened.

"Hey," Purple said, as the door started to slide open, "that wasn't so hard." Red was grateful for his ignorance. He might've struck a harder bargain if he'd thought about what was waiting behind the door.

As the door slid all the way open, the relieved smile was quickly wiped off Purple's face, to be replaced by sheer horror. For a brief, terrifying moment, a trembling wall of paper hung suspended in the doorway, before tumbling down on Purple. Red winced. All he could see was one flailing arm underneath the endless paper. Had it really been that long since they'd been in the office?

A muffled scream emanated from under the papers. Red floated over and kicked the top of Purple's gauntlet. "Shut up or I won't dig you out," Red said. "We're trying to do GOVERNMENT things, here. We can't let anyone hear us."

Purple slowly quieted down, and—after a furtive look both ways to ensure the coast was still clear—Red deactivated his hover belt so he could kneel on the ground and scoop the papers back into the room from whence they came. Man, he didn't even recognize some of these languages. Red picked up a paper, then turned a paper-upside down; the language seemed to consist of squares of various sizes. What kind of species wrote like that?? Some sort of race of blockheads?

Heh. Blockheads.

He hoped Purple would recognize it. As Tallest, they had to be able to understand any race under Irken command—so they'd split up the duty of downloading the languages. That left them with about seven hundred each.

A muffled whine drifted up from under the paper pile. "Are you still digging?"

"Yeah, of course I am!" Red threw the paper back in the room and resumed shoving papers until he saw an antenna, then the other, and finally Purple's head was exposed.

Purple looked up at Red plaintively. "Can you pull me out yet?"

Red glanced warily at the mountain of paper on Purple's back. "... Lemme try."

After ten minutes, several strained muscles, and many yelps of pain, Red managed to pull Purple out. The hall was still clear; thank goodness. Otherwise they'd be answering quite a few awkward questions. (Still, though. Some top security, for the Massive of all places.)

"You broke my arm," wailed Purple, cradling the thin limb by which Red had pulled him free, which was definitely not broken.

"Oh, calm down and help me move these," Red muttered. He leaned his shoulder against the pile of paperwork like it was a particularly lumpy piece of furniture and started shoving.

"But my arm!"

"It's not broken. Come on. Do you want to complain about you arm or contribute to the stability and growth of the Irken Empire?"

"I wanna complain about my—"

"What kind of Tallest ARE you?! Huh? You and your arm."

Miffed, Purple stuck his tongue out at Red, but nevertheless started pushing the papers as well. They managed to get the mass of it back inside, and, after scooping up and tossing in the stray paper left outside, they turned their hover belts back on to help them climb over the papers into the room. The door finally slid shut, trapping them inside.

With their paperwork.

Although the reign of Red and Purple was considered by many to be a golden age for the Irken Empire, the truth was conditions for the vast majority of the empire were abysmal. Over half the Irken population suffered in deep poverty. A further twenty-five percent was on the borderline of slipping under, and losing ground. The billions upon billions of non-Irken lifeforms being assimilated into the empire by the day were even worse off. They lived in slave-factories, vast multi-species ghettoes, or devastated worlds with rapidly dwindling populations. It wasn't because the Irkens were inherently cruel—well, they WERE inherently cruel, but that was only a secondary contributing factor. The primary issue was simply that the empire was too massive to be efficiently cared for by a bureaucracy that, like a spider web, eventually converged on a single infinitesimally small point.

Or two points, as the case may be.

And no matter how tall the Tallest were—in comparison with the empire that they were charged to rule, they were indeed very, very small.

Red and Purple gave the paperwork a helpless look, shared the helpless look with each other, and got to work. They were stuck until they finished at least enough to reach the doorpad that would let them open the exit. Best estimate, it would be a labor of at least seven hours. Purple bent down—with pained groans, still sore from being buried under the avalanche earlier—grabbed the first paper with a language he understood, and started reading. Red turned off his belt, took a seat on the papers, and grabbed another.

A request from the Invader on the Planet of Open-Minded Supermodels. He wanted whipped cream. Red pulled a stamp out of his Pak, propped the paper against one thigh, and smacked the stamp down. "REQUEST DENIED – RED". The empire didn't have the resources to fulfill the stupid request of some lazy Invader that would rather spend his time snacking than conquering. He rolled up the paper, wiggled it at Purple, and Purple grabbed it and stuck it in a chute near the ceiling—over the place where they SHOULD have had a shared desk, somewhere, buried—and it was sucked away to be taken care of. Since it was a denial, odds were against the Invader ever finding out his request had been seen, much less rejected. The Massive's messengers had no time for such courtesies.

Red had wasted thirty seconds on a useless request.

"Hey Red," Purple said, studying a paper with a frown. "Do we have any available troops?" A troop was a unit of 81 Irken Soldiers.

"A few. Why?"

"Riots on Parkinglotia. The slaves working in the hotels want to get off-planet and get food."

Well, they didn't have food to spare and they didn't have anywhere off-planet to take the slaves. Irkens knew what famines were like. They'd take care of their own before they took care of aliens. "Ugh, deny it. If the slaves don't have food, the troops that are sent there won't either. Can we... do without the slaves?"

Purple continued frowning at the paper. Then his eyes lit up. "Oh! Oh. Send in a carnivorous species to replace the current slave force. THEY'LL be well-fed."

"Brilliant."

"Thanks!" Purple stamped the paper—"REQUEST DENIED – PURPLE"—scribbled on his additional recommendation, and sent the paper up the chute.

Starvation on Unnamed Irken Colony #13—food request partially denied, after a bit of debate Red and Purple agreed that they could probably get them 30% of their original request. Extreme poverty among all but four extremely fortunate merchants on Morbia—request for financial assistance denied, but accompanied by a direct order to the four merchants to redistribute the entirety of their finances among the five hundred Irkens on planet; if they distributed what they had among all two billion inhabitants, EVERYONE would be broke. The empire had been in perpetual debt for centuries.

"Hey, hey Red." Purple fought back a giggle. "This one's from Zim."

"Oh, really?" Red smiled weakly. "What does HE want?"

"Two tons of snacks, five more MegaDoomers, and four million monies."

The Tallest locked eyes. Then they cracked up. Red leaned back against the paper pile and slid down to the floor as he gasped for breath through his hysterics. Purple only shakily managed to hold the paper up against the wall so he could slam "REQUEST DENIED – PURPLE" on the sheet.

"Wh-what a... what a LOSER!" Purple shoved the paper up the chute. "Is he completely oblivious o-or WHAT?"

"Two tons! Did he really—did he really say two tons?!"

"I'd rather send it to the Parkinglotia slaves than him!"

"Yeah! Hah! Or colony thirteen!" Red's hysterics slowly trailed off. Quietly, he said, "... I wish we COULD send another two tons to colony thirteen."

Purple's laughs immediately cut off. "Yeah. ... Or even Parkinglotia."

"Yeah."

For a moment, they looked morosely at all the paperwork around them. Purple forced himself to pick up another paper, muttering, "I'd make snacks out of ZIM, but they'd weigh less than the packaging needed to ship him to thirteen."

Red forced a laugh. "They'd probably poison whoever tried to eat them, anyway."

"Hah! Yeah."

They said very little else for the rest of the time needed to go through enough paperwork to get to the door, except to occasionally consult with each other on what limited resources to send where. They spent a half hour arguing about a stock of medicine that, quite by accident, they'd both sent to two different planets, and the next two hours not talking to each other.

Every once in a while a second chute over the long-buried desk would drop out a new request for their attention; once, with a scream of frustration, Purple grabbed a wad of papers and shoved them up the chute. The next time a request came through, they all came raining back down on Purple's head.

Purple broke into the pack of fruity chips Red had given him, and then they slowly worked their way through the rest of Red's snacks, and then—holdout that he was—through Purple's stash; and they were still hungry, groggy, bleary-eyed, and in a foul mood as they left the office.

They both tried not to look at the sea of paper they hadn't gotten to.

As they locked the door again and hovered down the hall, Red turned to Purple. "Maybe we should start looking into annexing Sintillia."

"What—and let them burn their crops? Then we get NO sugar, Red."

"No, hear me out—if we're very careful when we send in the Invader, maybe mix them in with a diplomacy mission so they don't suspect anything—"

"Until it's too late and they've been conquered?"

"Yeah! And they’d probably be hesitant to retaliate if they weren’t 100% sure they were being invaded.”

“Yeah... yeah, I get it. I mean, it's not like they WANT to burn their crops, right? That's the only reason we haven't razed them and they know it. Without that..."

They drifted off toward the bridge, conspiring.

Two heads were better than one. Twice as much paperwork stamped, twice as many cries for help ignored. But even so—even so—that was twice as much progress than a singular Tallest could make in a day's work. And at least some cries had been answered, hadn't they? It wasn't like having twice as many Tallest meant the empire suddenly had twice as much food. They did what they could.

Yes—true—the Empire was the strongest it had ever been. It held vast swathes of the galaxy in its iron grip. But no one was more aware than the Almighty Tallest themselves just how brittle that iron was.

If you want a tiny fic/story, buy me a coffee and leave a prompt in the comments!

(Feel free to reblog/add comments)

#invader zim #fanfic #tallest red #tallest purple #my writing #(where the hell did i come up with the planet of open minded supermodels)#(i mean like im not gonna question 16yo me's wisdom so i left it in)#(but like... child where did you get that from)#(i feel like you got that from SOMEWHERE)#(EDIT: it was a reference to Insecticomics by waywardmartian)#(ty wayward)

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nojammmms · 6 years

Text

My Flower Jin x Reader (Part 3)

A/n Keep in mind that the first four parts have already been written and it’ll take longer to post the other parts.

Words-2.3k

Genre-fluff, maybe smut

Summary- Everyone is born with a black and white flower bud ‘tattoo’ on their wrist and your flower blooms when you find your soulmate. However you have not had this luxury because you have yet to find your soulmate and the rules state that your flower only blooms once you and your soulmate realize your love for each other. You think that your supposed soulmate will never come until your life takes you on an unexpected u-turn.

Part One Part Two Part Three

Your dad was a good dad he just had his off days and he never abused you to the point it was really bad, the worse you've ever gotten was a couple slaps and hit with a metal rod on your arm. Your mom though wouldn't do anything she'd just watch while it was happening because she knew that she would get hit too if she intervened . It's not like you needed to tell the police or anything because it only happened like once every 2-3 years or something like that but you were still somewhat afraid whenever you came home late or just walked in the door regularly.(A/n sorry to make this sort of cliche but I needed to give you reason to run so I just decided to give a bit of back round info but you can just ignore it really. I won't be bringing it up again)You weren't sure why you ran but that just made the matters worse. Your father chased after you and yelling about how he just wanted to talk. You didn't care though you still ran. You had run to the nearest gas station and decided to head back, your dad probably wouldn't be outside waiting for you so you could easily drop by Taehyungs' place and then climb through your window to get clothes and stay the night with him. You had done it multiple times before.

You had arrived at Tae's and knocked on the door. To your surprise the door opened. Standing in front of you was Yoongi with his messed up hair and bags under his eyes that could carry groceries. "y/n why are you here so early?" He was rubbing his eyes and you could smell the remaining alcohol in his breath. They all probably had HUGE hangovers.

"Yoongi, its 1:00 pm now let me in I need to talk to Tae it's important." He was confused as fuck but opened the door. You walked in to find Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung piled in the living room one on top of the other and their legs intertwined. You pulled out your phone and snapped a picture for blackmail later. You walked towards them and spotted Tae in the middle. You decided not to wake them up and just wait for then to come back into consciousness. You head towards the stairs to be stopped by Yoongi.

"Yoongi let me pass I need to go upstairs." He wouldn't budge. "Come on Yoongi let me go."

"Why do you need to go upstairs?" He was honestly scary when he was partially drunk.

"Ok fine I ran from my dad again now let me go so I can climb to my room." You started to get angry.

"Wow sounds like you need some comforting." He leaned into you. 'Ugh why does hungover/drunk Yoongi have to be so persistent' You tried to push him off of you but it didn't really work. 'Oh god why isn't Tae awake when I need him' Tae was always the one to help you out around the guys when their drunk. He usually doesn't drink and neither do you but he wanted to make you feel better so he drank with you. You felt Yoongi's pressure come off of you and saw Tae helping you push him off. Cliche much. Once Yoongi was off of you he fell to the ground unconscious again.

"Whoa Taehyung chill i'm ok." He was out of breath. Pushing someone off of you didn't seem like much but when your hungover it does.

"No you weren't you needed my help." He was genuinely worried.

"Yeah but i'm fine and you need to rest you have a hangover. I would've been fine." You mentally rolled your eyes on how cliche this sounded.

"Actually i'm not that hungover I didn't drink that much and you were not ok. Yoongi was all over you."

"So what he is still drunk he would've passed out before anything happened." You laughed at your remark. "Anyways" You cut the awkwardness short. You had to admit you always had a bit of a crush on Tae. "I'm going to do what I came here for."

"And what is that." He questioned and followed you up the stairs.

"I umm.... well let's saw that my dad wasn't happy about me coming home late. You don't mind if I spend then night here right?" You felt comfortable around Tae but telling personal stuff was never your thing.

"Awe my little y/n/n (Your nickname) Of course you can stay we always have fun. We can watch movies and stay up all night." He pulled you into a hug and you cringed at him calling you your most hated nickname.

"Who else will be here." You continues your journey to Taehyung's room which was right across from yours.

"It'll just be us so you know what that means." He winked at you and you automatically read his thoughts.

"Hide and seek through the whole house!!" You whispered screamed remembering the other boys still asleep. He nodded his head and opened his window.

When you were younger you would go back and forth your two houses by and makeshift bridge the two of you made to connect your rooms to each others. You didn't use it as much now that you were older but it came in handy at times like this. It was like a little rope swing that Tae's dad helped build to make sure it was secure. You climbed out his window. You always made sure your window was unlocked for purposes like this. You went through your window and quickly grabbed all your needed stuff and made you way out of there as fast as you could. You slept at Taehyung's house so much the spare bedroom was practically yours. You placed your stuff in the guest room and went down stairs to see all the boys up and on the couch. "Hey guys. how are you all feeling?" You said with a light smile.

"Hey y/n could you make us food?"Jimin said completely ignoring your question. Jungkook and Yoongi agreed with Jimin.

"Sure." You went to the kitchen and started to get the food ready. You decided to cook pancakes because they just woke up. Tae made it clear you did't have to cook for them but you didn't mind plus they all had to take it easy because of their hangovers. Taehyung said he might not have a hangover or a bad on at least but you weren't taking any chances.

They had all taken medicine for their heads and were watching a movie on the couch. They were all so cute snuggled up in the couch like that so you snapped another picture. After cooking a dozen pancakes you were finally done. "Ok guys food is ready!" You placed the food on the table and sat down. Before you knew it all 4 boys had stampeded into the kitchen to enjoy their homemade breakfast.

They hastily finished their breakfast. The boys cleaned up since you cooked and went on their way home. It was finally just you and Tae. "Tae lets watch a movie." You jumped up and down latching your arm with his.

"But I wanna play hide and seek. Please and then we can watch what ever movies you like." He gave you his pout face.

You couldn't resist. "Okay fine but we are watching the entire Saw trilogy." His eyes went wide. You knowing how much he hates horror movies smirked at him.

"Just for that your counting first." He pushed you into the corner and ran off. There was a distant yell. "Count to one hundred no cheating." You giggled at his child like response . 1..2..3..4..5.

97..98..99..100. "Ready or not here I come." You turned around and was ready to begin the hunt for Taehyung.

You heard something coming from upstairs so you followed the sound. You approached the top of the stars and was greeted by the dark hallway ahead. You heard the sound coming from farther down the hallway. It sounded like a giggle. Tae always had a weak spot while playing hide and go seek, no matter how hard he tried he would always make some kind of noise. You continued down towards his bedroom. Trying to be as silent as possible you cracked the door open. The light was off and the room was dark. You opened the door little by little until you could make out the silhouettes of the furniture in the room. You walked in and grazed the room with your eyes trying to figure out what didn't belong. Again you heard it a faint giggle coming from the fr side of the room. You couldn't deny that you were somewhat scared but you still stayed silent. You walked towards the corner that was concealed by a table. You yanked up the tabled cloth and there was a balled up Tae hiding in the corner.

"AHHHHHHH!!!!!" He let out and ear piercing scream, crashed his head onto the table above causing to knock over. You fell over in a fit of laughter. He crawled out and jumped on top of you pinning you to the ground.

"Tae g-get off of me." You continued to laugh relaying the scene in your head. "Taehyung get off!" He stayed put.

"Not until you stop laughing." HE said in his low voice causing your breath to hitch and stop laughing. "Good." He got off of you and stood up offering a hand to you. You took it and pulled you up. "Okay your turn to hide." He sped down the stairs and started to count. You walked out of the room and down the stairs being like a mouse silent as possible. You spotted a closed next to the stairs and opened it. It was full of jackets and boxes. You found a space behind the boxes and climbed into the closet. You reached out and closed the door it was pitch black,you covered yourself with jackets and stayed quiet. You heard his foot steps pass the door. "Y/N COME OUT." You giggled.

"Oh shit." You whispered. He opened the door and examined the room. You didn't dare to breathe. After a minute of brushing through the coats and boxes he closed the door and you left out a breath of relief.

"I got you." He slung the door open and jumped on top of you. "Haha I knew you were there." He gloated.

"Then why didn't you pull the coat off the first time." You stated pointing out his flaw.

"Uhh because I wanted to make sure were really there." He hesitated but delivered a believable answer.

"Ok now let me get out this is really uncomfortable." Taehyung helped you out with little struggle. "Okay now that we played hide and seek we have to watch the Saw movies." You could see the fear in his eyes grow at the mention of the horror movies.

"But, we only played two rounds and they were really quick." His words quickened trying to stall as much as possible.

"Ok fine two more rounds." You walked towards the corner and started to count. You found Taehyung in five minuets. It was his turn to count. You didn't try to hid yourself well because you really wanted to watch the movies. You hid in the upstairs bathroom behind the curtain and was found in ten minuets.

"Okay Tae movie time." You grabbed his hand and ran down the stairs pulling him behind you. You grabbed a big blanket while Tae cooked the popcorn. He sat down and you and him snuggled under the blanket as you pressed play. He was practically on top of you as the movie played on. Every time there was a little bit of blood he would bury his head in your shoulder. The first movie had ended and it was 9:00. You had ended up on Taehyung's shoulder and was asleep.

"y/n wake up." He shook your arm jostling you awake. You stood up to stretch.

"ok bed time good night." You started to walk away.

"what no it's only nine." He grabbed your and pulled you back. You landed on his lap. "I may not want to watch the Saw movies but it's to early to go to bed. Let's watch something else." You tried to slide off his lad but his tight grip on your arm prevented it.

"Oh ok. What do you want to watch?" Your face slowly became red. He didn't notice and you were glad. You had always liked Taehyung and thought maybe something could happen between you but your feelings have changed sine Jin arrived. You may not know him well but he's got that feeling about him that you couldn't escape.

"How about Titanic." Tae said breaking your thoughts.

"Uh yeah sure." He stood up causing you to fall off his lap. You stood up and sat back down on the couch. You covered yourself with the blanket and Taehyung sat down next to you. He put his arm around you which is unusual for him.

****time skip brought to you by Tae's box smile****

The movie had ended and it was getting late. You were getting tired so you stood up. "Hey Tae i'm going to bed."

"Ok. So am I it's late" He got up and turned off the tv leaving the two of you in darkness. Tae walked a head of you up the stairs so you wouldn't trip on anything. You had both reached your rooms so you decided to say good night.

"Good night Tae. See you tomorrow." You said and waited for a response.

"Good night y/n. Love you." He smirked and walked into his room shutting and locking the door behind him.

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redthreads · 6 years

Text

First Contact

So, I actually wrote this back in January, and I’ve been sitting on it this whole time because... who knows. Anyway, we are five days away from The Punisher series dropping, so I figured I’d post my version of the first time Karen and Frank see each other after the end Daredevil season 2 before the series blows it away. Here’s the AO3 link

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Title: First Contact

Fandom: Daredevil/Punisher

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, threats of rape and violence, death... it’s Punisher after all, guys.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Four months. Four months had passed since Matt had done his big reveal, since Karen had her life threatened once again, since she had last seen – no, she didn’t think about that anymore. Four months and six days, but who was counting? She wasn’t. Karen Page was just walking quickly down the street in a section of the city she considered hers, wondering if her life was ever going to return to normal. If she was ever going to be able to stop looking over her shoulder, to stop being suspicious of every person who took the same turn as her.

Granted, it didn’t help that Karen hadn’t stopped writing for the New York Bulletin and she wasn’t exactly doing fluff pieces. Her research had gotten her into hot water on more than one occasion, and both Matt and Foggy had tried to get her to be more cautious. Foggy wanted her to move into an apartment building with security. When she had just laughed, thinking about how she just barely scraped by now, he’d very sweetly offered to let her stay with him in his place. Karen had declined, not wanting to cramp his style. Matt had tried talking her into any other kind of job, but stopped when she had quietly asked him if he could stop wearing his mask. Their friendship had gotten oddly better since he had revealed his massive secret, but there were still rocky moments. He’d followed her for a few days after that, but Karen had read him the riot act. She was not going to put up with being stalked, even for the best intentions. She knew he still watched over her occasionally, but she could live with that.

Karen was able to admit that knowing Daredevil had her back more often than not was reassuring. She still would write the articles she did even if he wasn’t there because there was something clawing at her insides, making demands on her heart, and forcing her to bring light to dark corners of her little part of the world. It was for Ben, for Daniel Fisher, for everyone who had died because someone thought their agenda was more important than human life. It was for the nights she woke up with screams choking her and the blood of the past all over her hands.

Tonight, she knew she didn’t have any masked friends watching her. She had gotten a break on a child slavery ring and given the information to Matt, so he was down at the docks, waiting to take out the people in charge of the latest shipment. These were cases where a part of Karen wondered what she would do if she was still in contact with Fr… him. The cops were positive that he was dead, but Karen had been at one too many crime scenes since then that made her think of the diner. She knew who she had seen on the rooftop the night she’d been kidnapped. But she hadn’t seen him since.

Karen forced all of those thoughts out of her head and concentrated on getting home. She was later than she preferred and was starting to wish she had splurged on a cab. It was a cold April night to be walking, and while she knew Daredevil was taking care of the bad guys at the dock, something inside of her refused to settle. She kept glancing in the shop windows she passed, trying to make sense of the shadows behind her without being too obvious. She had her eye on two guys who had been trailing her for a bit, but they looked more like friends walking home from a night out, laughing and bumping into each other, rather than watching her with intensity. They turned left when she turned right, and Karen forced her shoulders to relax.

That was when the van squealed around the corner, gunning for her. Karen began to run, heels and all, but she was no match for the horsepower. The driver’s side door popped open, slamming into Karen’s back, and sending her to the ground as pain seared up her back and shoulders. Then her head connected to the sidewalk and everything went black.

~*~

Karen came back to consciousness with the same speed and violence as she left it as she was thrown against a hard object and the world around her came to an abrupt stop. She opened her eyes to see that she had been thrown against the wall of the van when it had braked sharply, the two men of indiscriminate origin cursing out the driver as they had to brace themselves. “Fuck you guys, just grab the bitch and let’s get this done,” the driver responded, popping his seat belt loose and hopping out of the vehicle. Karen had a brief thought of fighting back against the two men, but when she tried to rise, she found her arms were restrained behind her back with what was probably duct tape. One man opened the sliding door while the other reached towards her. Karen kicked out, but he just grabbed her ankle and used that to drag her out of the van. Karen cried out as she hit the hard ground, and she realized just how much pain she was in, adrenaline and all.

“It’s only gonna get worse from here, ya nosy whore,” the man who opened the door snarled at her, a gold earring glinting in the artificial light of a security light. Karen tried to get her bearings, hoping they were close to the docks, but it was just an old storage place, with row after row of forgotten storage units. Nothing but concrete and rusting steel, and blocks from the docks. Fear, an ever present bird trapped in the cage of her mind, stopped fluttering its wings and began slamming against the bars. There was no one coming. No one.

Karen struggled to her scraped knees as the driver slid one of the storage units open and gestured at Earring and the other man, who was wearing a bright blue shirt. As they grabbed her under the arms and dragged her towards the unit, Karen had a wild thought that she was going to die surrounded by Beanie Babies and baby clothes and nearly choked on a hysterical laugh. Blue Shirt shot her a dirty look as a half-laugh escaped her and she found herself shoved down on top of some dusty boxes.

“No chair? Did you guys really think this kidnapping thing out all the way?” Karen couldn’t stop herself from asking, her fear making her angry.

A hard slap from Earring had her head ringing and his muttered, “Let’s just kill her now and be done with this bullshit,” had any other sassy comments from her drying up. Karen turned her head back to see the three men staring at her. Blue Shirt was leering at her, his eyes running over her disheveled blouse and skirt that had ridden up to her mid-thigh when she’d been tossed on the boxes. The driver was studying her with the intensity one gave a frustrating math problem, and Earring kept shifting his hard gaze from Karen’s face to the gun clearly visible in the driver’s waistband.

“We need to find out just how much she knows, first. Besides… can’t hurt to have let Eli have a little fun,” the driver said, grinning maliciously as Blue Shirt practically vibrated at his words. Karen couldn’t stop the shudder that wracked her body at his words, and he let out a belch of laughter as her lips curled in disgust.

Earring grunted, moving to pull a cigarette from a pack and lighting it. “We aren’t going to get anything from her but screams once Eli starts. How’s ‘bout you and me take turns beating it out of her first,” he said, his tone shockingly placid.

Eli, the one in the blue shirt, whined, but the driver nodded. “Works for me. Hear that, reporter bitch?” he said, turning his attention back to Karen as he pulled his gun from his waistband and held it loosely in her direct line of sight. “Make this easy on yourself and tell us everything now and I’ll put a bullet through your pretty little head. Eli’s still gonna fuck ya, but you’ll care a lot less.”

Nausea swirled, and Karen tried to push herself backwards, as far away from them as possible, but sagging cardboard resisted her attempts. It was all she could do to keep the whimpers trapped in her throat. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction, but had a bone-deep fear that she’d be screaming all too soon.

Her attention was caught on Earring as he sucked hard on his cigarette, the tip glowing an angry red as he moved towards her. Like a snake, he struck out, grabbing her arm in a hard grasp and pulling her up slightly as she fought to get away. “What do you know about the kids?” he hissed, holding the cigarette tip just above where her collarbone created a hollow, close enough to the soft skin that Karen could feel the intense heat.

“Go to hell,” she spit out, her eyes as hot as the cigarette. A strangled scream broke loose as he touched the lit tip to her flesh, sending flames of pain shooting into her.

“Try again,” he told her, sucking deeply on the cigarette once more while the two men behind them laughed. This time he held the glowing tip just above her cheek, his hand resting almost lover-like against her face. She could see the enjoyment written all over his face and knew she could tell him whatever he wanted to hear and he wouldn’t stop. Karen just gritted her teeth and waited for the next blast of burning pain. Instead, music started pouring from the van behind them, a classic Earth, Wind, and Fire song that had Karen’s eyes widening in shock. Earring dropped her back to the cardboard, instantly alert. “What the fuck is this?” he asked, as he scuttled to the far side of storage unit, out of direct sight of the entrance.

The driver spun around, his gun pointed as he looked for any sign of danger. Eli just edged closer to Karen, licking his lips as his eyes darted from her to all around. There was a muffled report, and the driver crumpled, the concrete beneath him instantly soaking with blood. Eli lunged towards Karen, swinging her around so she was shielding him, one arm wrapped tightly around her throat, the other holding her duct taped arms down in a painful hold that had her crying out. “Shut up, shut up, shutup,” he hissed in her ear. “Come out, you dumb fucker, or she dies, I swear to God,” he shouted, as Earring tried to get a better view of the opening, a gun pulled from where it had been holstered against his back.

There was barely a pause before a form moved forward from the shadows, and Karen let out a shuddering gasp at the silhouette that had no right being so familiar. Black work pants tucked into dark combat boots, broad shoulders covered in a black trench coat that hit mid thigh, gaped to reveal the stark white skull spray painted over a black flak vest, all made even more threatening by the Kimber Warrior pistol in his hand and the rifle strapped to his hip. Karen saw nothing but his face, the sharply carved lines from his broad cheekbones to his squared off jaw, his pugilist’s nose, broken and slightly flattened in a way that suited his face like no other, and those dark, dark eyes that promised death. Only a fool believed they could escape a man who looked at them like that. That was the face of the Punisher.

Earring moved to bring his gun up, and the Punisher shot him once in the chest, and then in the head as he fell, all while never taking his eyes off of Karen and Eli. “Fuck!” screamed Eli, his grip tightening even further on Karen to where she began to choke. “Shit, shit, if...if you want her to live, you bet-” he didn’t get a chance to finish, the Punisher shifted his pistol just slightly and hot blood splattered the side of Karen’s face. She fell to the ground, the dead weight of her captor forcing her down.

Karen could hear someone gasping as if they were dying, sucking in air desperately and letting it out in a high, thin scream, but she didn’t know who it was. All she knew was that the man who had planned to rape her, dead or alive, was on top of her. He was dead, in fact his blood was sliding down her face, but she didn’t care, she needed him off her right now! She began twisting and kicking desperately, trying to get out from under him with her mind intact.

The weight lifted off of her, and she found herself being sat upright. Suddenly, she was so desperate to get the lunatic’s blood off of her, she began scraping her cheek against her shirt, still hearing the awful gasping somewhere in the distance.

“Ma’am.”

The voice was so familiar, rough and dark, but so far off. Karen tried to use her hands, but they were still stuck behind her and she wanted to scream.

“Ma’am, please stop.”

At that she looked up, right up into Frank Castle’s face. He wasn’t the Punisher to her right then, he was Frank. The last time… the last time she had spoken to him, begged him to listen… he hadn’t. But he had saved Matt from the Hand. And he had just saved her. He also had an enormous knife in his hand. He saw her eyes lock on the knife and held it away, his other hand out flat like one would approach a scared dog. “I just want to cut the tape, Miss Page, that’s all. Then maybe you’d like to get off the floor?” he asked, his voice blank of any emotion, but his eyes kept searching her, growing darker when they saw the burn mark at her collarbone, her bloodied knees, and her state of disarray.

Karen took a deep breath and the gasping scream stopped. She’d been the one making that noise, she realized now. Then she nodded at Frank, and he reached behind her, slitting the tape and ripping it off as quickly as possible. Karen immediately began to rub violently at her bloodstained cheek, stopping only when he grabbed her hands. “You’re going to make it worse,” he told her, his eyes locked on hers.

“Get. It. Off,” Karen gritted out between deep, still panicked breaths. He nodded, and pulled something out of his pocket. There was a tearing noise and then something wet and cold was gently brushing at her cheek and throat. A wet wipe, the Punisher walked around with wet wipes in his jacket, Karen thought and had the urge to laugh. She wanted to lean into his touch, wanted to take in every inch of his face, search him for any sign of injury. Instead, she shut her eyes and willed herself to stay still, to let him clean the blood of that abominable man off of her while she tried to come to terms with all that had just occurred. She tried to take another deep breath, but all she could smell was rapidly cooling blood, a metallic tang coupled with the other smells that accompanied death. It was a thick smell that seemed to coat her senses. Karen grimaced and shifted slightly, moving a touch closer to the man carefully cleaning her as she took shallower breaths. He shifted closer as well, gently brushing her hair over her shoulder to wipe away the blood on the curve where her throat met her shoulder. She could smell him then, still a little bloody, but with gunpowder and coffee, and a hint of something woodsy under the scents of blood and violence. It shouldn’t smell reassuring, but it did.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever see him again.

Karen’s eyes popped open and this time she didn’t stop herself from searching his face. He was less bruised than she had ever seen him, just one yellowing bruise beneath his left eye, a cut along the blade of his left cheekbone and at the corner of his full upper lip, and a scrape across the bridge of his nose. His high and tight haircut had grown out entirely and his hair was in messy thick waves to his ear lobes. She had an instant insane desire to run her fingers through the thick mass and push it back from his face. Straight dark brows were hooded over coffee brown eyes that were focused entirely on his task, although he did flick a glance her way as she stared at him.

“Good as it’s getting without actual soap and water, ma’am. We need to get a bandage on that burn too,” he murmured, the rough timbre of his voice rasping over her like a cat’s tongue. She shivered, a small sound escaping and he let out a rough, aborted growl, his trigger finger twitching rapidly. “With all respect, ma’am, what the hell were you thinking?” he bit out, eyes narrowing on her as he pulled her to her feet.

“Me? Me?! What about you?” Karen shot back, rage that she had tamped down for so long beginning to boil to the surface. “You vanished for four months!” she accused him, poking him in the chest, square in the center of the skull’s forehead.

“I was out there,” Frank said, blinking rapidly as he tried to take in Karen’s sudden change of demeanor.

“I know, I’ve been to the crime scenes! That isn’t what I meant!” Karen continued, throwing up her hands, ignoring the contemplative frown that crossed Frank’s face.

“I told you to stay away, to get away from me,” he said carefully, his hands raising slowly, palms up and out to the side.

“And then you rammed a truck into me! Into Ben’s car, the one he left me, Ben, one of the sweetest, kindest men I’ve ever known, and you took that from me! I know, I know, trying to get the Blacksmith. Bonus points because he was going to kill me and you stopped that, ohhh yes you did. By nearly killing me in process!” she continued, her voice raising, one hand slashing through the air to stop his potential protest. “In a car accident, a fucking car accident, just like my brother all over again, you stupid… stupid asshole! And then you vanished,” she finished, her fist and her forehead connecting with his chest at the same time with a soft thump.

“You told me I was dead to you,” Frank rumbled, his eyes straight forward and his hands still out to the side, uncertainty flickering across his face. This was not what he had expected.

Karen punched him, her fist driving into his side, and burst into tears. “I didn’t mean it,” she choked out before she punched him again, and then her hands fisted around the edges of his flak jacket just under his arms while sobs shook her body, the shock of the day and all the awful, wonderful, complicated emotions of seeing Frank again crashing down on her. She fully expected him to push her away from him and walk back into the shadows of night, and she wanted to hang on as long as she could, as useless and fucked up as she knew it was. Instead, after a moment of utter stillness, his arms wrapped around her, holding her loosely yet securely against him, her head tucked in against his throat while she shook and tears streamed down her face to burn into his flesh.

Frank knew he should be pushing her aside, walking away, and getting as far away from her as possible. He’d meant it when he’d told her to stay away from him, that she’d be better off away from all of this. He was the Punisher, and that meant there was no room for the hard knot in his stomach at her words, or whatever was unfurling in his chest as she cried against him. This was a mistake. He needed to push her away. The men who had taken her, had planned to torture and kill her were dead and she was smart enough to find her own way home. He needed to leave.

Yet here he was, arms wrapped around her, and his cheek nearly resting against her hair as she cried and shook. His mind kept playing over what she said, about how she hadn’t meant that he was dead to her, how he’d put her at serious risk, how… her brother? Fuck, he really was an asshole. Frank let out a heavy sigh, one hand moving up to stroke her hair, but stopping to hover above for a moment before falling back around her, still holding her against him. “You’re the only person I’m ever tempted to apologize to, ma’am,” he found himself saying, trying to keep any emotion from his voice and knowing he failed.

Karen took a shuddering breath, pressing her face to the slice of skin exposed by the collar of his jacket and shirt at his throat. She could feel him swallow, could feel how tense he was, how awkward his arms were around her. But he wasn’t pushing her away. “I don’t want your apology, Frank, just don’t ever do that to me again, don’t disappear without… without letting me…” Karen trailed off, not quite sure what she was trying to ask the vigilante who routinely went out into the night to brutally murder those on his list, the man who considered himself already dead, who courted actual death every moment. She just knew these past four months without any word from him, not knowing if he was hurt or dead until the next pile of bodies showed up, had been gut wrenching.

“My story ain’t gonna end well, ma’am, and we both know it,” Frank said quietly, bluntly. He needed to go, needed to get away before he dragged her any further into his awful, fucked up world. Even her light couldn’t last here, someone as good, as caring as Karen Page didn’t belong in the Punisher’s world.

“I don’t give a damn, just… just don’t,” she whispered, choking on the last word. She turned her head, still cradled on Frank’s shoulder, but staring off at the storage unit’s blood splattered walls as Shining Star continued to play in the background.

There was no training in the world for this. Frank felt like he was dying and being resurrected at the same time, torn in two very different directions. Almost of its own volition, Frank felt his head tilt slightly and then his cheek was pressed against her soft, silky hair as her tears still slid slowly to dampen his shirt, and he took a deep breath. She smelt like blood and lavender, and he knew he was doomed. “Okay,” he finally said.

She punched him again, this one made even weaker and less effective by her close proximity. “You better mean it,” she muttered and Frank nearly laughed.

“First thing we’re doing after you get patched up is work on your self-defense, because you might be the fastest woman in heels I’ve ever seen, but your punches are shit and you keep getting kidnapped,” he says, not sure if the feeling in his stomach was victory or defeat.

“They hit me with a car door, not sure even you could avoid getting kidnapped after that,” Karen defended herself, regretting it instantly when Frank dropped his arms and stepped back to examine her. The sudden loss left her breathless and a little unsteady, until he cupped a gentle hand under her elbow.

“We need to get you checked out, make sure nothing’s broken. C’mon, let’s go,” he urged, pulling her to where his vehicle was waiting, several hundred yards away under a broken street light, trying not to worry that she had broken ribs or internal bleeding.

“I’m just bruised, Frank. I don’t want a hospital, I just want to go home. Take me home, please.”

Karen sounded so tired, nearly swaying on her feet. Frank studied her for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he found himself saying again. He’d take her home.

#the Punisher #Karen Page #Frank Castle #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #tw: rape mention #tw: violence #tw: death #canon-typical violence #I think that covers it #look... I am so far down this trash hole #it's bad guys #someone come talk to me about #Kastle #uggggghhh #anyway I hope you like this

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years

Text

Indie & Rio

Indie: can we chat? Rio: 'Course we can Indie: you still mad tho? Rio: No Rio: Serious Indie: me either Indie: my heart b heavy but not w that Rio: What's wrong, babe? Indie: all things Indie: its bad here Rio: How bad? Indie: dred like i dont wanna drag you back in but i cant cope w it Rio: Don't worry about me Rio: I'll have to sort some stuff here but how soon do you need me back Rio: and what can I do 'til then, like Indie: let me be w you i wont 2s mckenna or no thing Indie: but i gotta be out Indie: theres too many fucking situations Rio: alright Rio: of course Rio: i'll sort the uber now, where am I sending it Rio: is it the things i know or has something else, or multiple something else's happened? Indie: [sends random ass location because honestly where the fuck she wanna be rn] Indie: theres more and worse Indie: how you want it? Rio: First tell me you're safe Rio: then tell me however's easiest for you Indie: I'm proper high rn are they gonna let me come to london? Rio: Yeah, obviously don't bring anything but if it's gone it's gone Rio: You'll be fine Indie: safe Indie: i got none left to bring Indie: it been like that Rio: Damn Rio: Say no more, but do Indie: i get why my ma werent trying to do nothing but this Indie: cept its there still when you come thru Rio: That's the problem Indie: cant keep it goin innit cant keep no thing goin Indie: cant keep drew from wildin acting like a younger bringin feds to my door and my boy on my back cos hes fave target Indie: neither chatting to me like i done this Indie: did i? idk Rio: Nah, you didn't Rio: I can't even expand on it because just no, how could it be you Indie: thats how the boy treating me like i livin for the drama Indie: but the feds want drew in the pen & thats how he want it cos theres nothing left for him to fuck up in these ends Indie: i cant stop it none Rio: That ain't you though Rio: and who would be about this shit, it's the worst Rio: As for Drew Rio: I'm sorry Rio: We've been here before, there's no talking to him when he's in that space Rio: and that isn't on you Indie: every day we on this he be spitting angry at me throwing shit around but acting like im the one creating Indie: its too hard Indie: and yeah then theres drew back on his bullshit Indie: w the only apology yours to hold cos he aint offering Indie: i want him gone & i put that out into the universe so mayb i did it Indie: this is proper gone tho & that baby gonna be born soon Rio: Oh babe Rio: He don't know you like that, he shouldn't be treating you like that, standard Rio: even if you were the biggest drama queen in the world but you ain't and he got you so fucked up on that Rio: Nah, he's doing it all himself, even if you thought you wanted it or still do if not this way Rio: you can't make him do the dirt he do, or make him not Rio: The baby will be good, it'll have it's Ma and Bea is staying with her still and everyone else, you know it'll be okay Rio: what about you though baby Indie: how i let him chat to me that way? who am i rn? wtf Indie: i just want our yard back and you back and things to be what they were Indie: but its not Indie: cos even if we there what kinda ma she trying to be for real? im spinning out but like where in the universe is she @ Indie: & none of this is gonna hurt you most Indie: thats the last thing i aint chatted Rio: We've all put up with shit we shouldn't have Rio: 'cos we thought it'd pay off Rio: You ain't alone in that, nor does it make you less you even if it makes you feel less altogether Rio: I can try to talk to Drew, about the flat, idk if I can make that happen but if he goes jail he loses his lease, he only kept it in the past 'cos his boss' would pay it if he dealt inside, like but he ain't got the clout he used to have Rio: accept it or nah, no doubt we could chat about me taking it on if it comes to that but i ain't making promises Rio: I know but, you gotta trust we will all be there for damage control Rio: we're all alright ish, yeah? Rio: Go ahead, babe, I can handle it Indie: i got caught up cos i wanted someone to be for me & about me one time & everyone else has somewhere to lean Indie: you and mckenna being goals in my face Indie: everything else was a mess but i just added Indie: and now she has Indie: cos what i gotta tell you is bills told me edie be gone Indie: hardcore packed up and run out Rio: i know there's nothing i can say to make you feel less shit about it but i swear to you babe, we've all been there Rio: you know i have Rio: it doesn't make it better for you but it ain't your fuckup, it's one we all go through to grow through, yeah? no bullshit Rio: she did talk to buster but Rio: i didn't think it'd be anything more than normal Rio: i'll tell ma Indie: i reckoned bills was gonna cry she was carrying that much worry Indie: i aint no what to tell her Rio: I'll talk to her too Rio: I don't know what I'll say but Rio: it'll be alright, we can sort this Indie: i been swerving dem all hard as you Indie: more than she got detention for how hard she was trying to hit me up she said Indie: doing everyone the dirtiest ever why i gotta leave Rio: I can't blame you Rio: This shit is hard Rio: and painful Rio: I'm sorry I left you alone Indie: he aint try and fuck me i got no excuses Indie: [sends selfie] am I 😢 I can't feel it so what you seeing? Indie: not trying to be out here in the wild 💔😭 Rio: Baby calm down okay, you're good Rio: Your flight is booked and the uber is en-route Rio: I sent all your deets to you, all you gotta do is get here Rio: we're gonna sort all this okay and the shit we can't we gonna make bearable at least Indie: i dont have anything tho cant b living in mckennas garms after the last Indie: he gon b mad enough im rolling up likely Rio: No he won't Rio: I got plenty of shit you can borrow don't stress on that Rio: Nance has got a mental wardrobe here too Indie: o yeah other mckenna Indie: always sleeping on her living there too Indie: she aint but she do Rio: Exactly, I've had to borrow her bed loads of times before and you know they living that en-suite life Rio: you can stay for as long as you need Indie: innit what school gon do put drew in prison? 😂 Rio: Tbh Rio: In the grand scheme of things, that doesn't matter rn, soz teachers Indie: ill screenshot them words like my ma says Rio: I missed you Indie: safe cos imma be in your face soon Rio: wish it was under better circumstances, like Rio: but we'll get there Indie: @ the age to have a breakdown once a wk soz bout it 😂 Rio: that i can handle Rio: nothing that a pint of ben & jerry's and some chill time can't Indie: warn mckenna to lock up his squad & we all good Rio: 😏 Will do Rio: he's not really rolling with them rn so temptation should be outta the way Indie: 😍💍 be like Indie: i feel it Rio: Erm I ain't that hoe 😣😂 Indie: theres how you say & how you do bitch 😏💘😂 Indie: 👀 you from the front row in a few Rio: 🙄😔 am I really that bad Indie: nah nah Indie: mckenna be amp as Indie: its a good link Rio: Yeah but I mean Rio: do you feel like I've been ignoring you Rio: pre you know, that bullshit Indie: allow it babe Indie: you never done nobody that way Rio: Promise Rio: 'cos that ever what I was trying to be Indie: you always on the clock & your game Indie: trust Rio: Alright, 'nuff about me Rio: is there anything else you need, either now or for when you get here? Indie: gon need to grab my shit while 👻ing this boy Indie: standard juggle Indie: if hes been holding that long & not dashed it out ill break in Rio: You're gonna take some mates with you, yeah? Indie: bitch please i dont need the lads knoing my business that hard Rio: is it a good idea tho, even if he got his own van u kno they all got each other's backs, like Rio: be careful, all i'm saying Indie: they aint gonna call the feds on me man Indie: ill leave it til im back need a clearer head than this for a lock pick Rio: Yeah, don't worry 'bout it now Rio: anything replaceable we can sort now Indie: im not tryin to lose my head over things rn Indie: if imma be in london i got what i need Rio: That's the main thing Rio: and I ain't gonna come at you with 20 questions either, like Rio: space can include from me, just lemme know what you're feeling Indie: i been had enough space from you girl Indie: i miss you Rio: was hoping you'd say that Indie: i love you more than Indie: thats the mood Rio: i love you too Rio: no outs Indie: dont lets lose each other again Indie: 💖💖 Rio: never 🧡 Indie: how long this uber tryna be im 😫😫😫 Indie: imma b sleepin on this wall like i kicking it nursery rhyme vibes Rio: it's saying it's nearly there on the app Rio: if you gonna crash at the airport make sure you near the gate tho Indie: safe Indie: o sick idea Indie: the plane not trying to be up long enough for that shit tho innit Rio: legit its as quick as the bus into town like Rio: be here in no time Indie: its a madness Rio: yeah, see, it's not that far really Indie: feels like Indie: but mayb thats just how i want it so i can 👻 this town harder than afore Rio: it's far enough for that Rio: ain't letting drew out the country are they Indie: 😂😂😂 Indie: not less they start deporting crooks old school like when 🐨 country just one big pen Rio: He wishes Rio: always got his top off like we living that life here Indie: fr like he needs a tan to appear more peng nah nah Rio: if we wanna get a new wifey Rio: least if she out there we unlikely to be related to her so go off Indie: true true Indie: unless he tryna head to spain for my nan we all good Rio: 😬 Rio: yikes, not a mental image we need Indie: idk i hear she keeps things tight & fresh Indie: hes done worse Rio: Stop 😩 Rio: 'less you gonna bring me one of them sick bags Indie: get you a straw donkey when he drag me out there for the 💒 Indie: i got you Rio: when u don't wanna be nan but u down to be ma Indie: least she too old to put a 👶 in Indie: & it aint like being down to be ma is top of his list for how he want his wifeys Indie: that ones just for you like Indie: ro not trying to mother me no mind the one she growing rn Rio: Fair Rio: Willing to put up with his shit and mother him is clearly more vital Rio: 'low it with the mommy issues like he's the only one going without Rio: twat Indie: o snap Indie: just cos yours aint want you boy dont mean you gotta kill mine tho Rio: o snapped too soon Rio: but he ain't get snapped on enough for that Indie: when he offering you dem same goodies ☠ Indie: thanks dad Indie: you a real one Rio: waste Rio: he's so fucked Indie: i was 👍 Indie: down & out Indie: what that make me? Rio: you a kid Rio: not chatting down to you, but you allowed to be is what I mean Rio: he's grown and he caused your shit, he should know and do better so you could Rio: literally his job Indie: idc now if he show up for astrid thatd do man Indie: grown past him still Rio: Yeah Rio: we'll have to wait n see if he can be arsed to prove himself Rio: idk if he's been allowed near since you know Indie: not from what ive 👂 Indie: coulda changed since he stopped chatting at me tho Indie: or he coulda just been chattin it so it dont look his fault he swervin Rio: wouldn't blame them from keeping him away rn, your hormones are fucked and she's never had much sense when it came to him Rio: but i don't know if it's a forever deal or what Indie: i can see her lawin it cos he burned her so hard w this Indie: proper owned Indie: she aint tryin to let you come thru & you fam so Rio: well you know Indie: cant call her out that hard when it aint that different from how my ma tryin to be when Indie: they all 🤡 for him Rio: yeah Rio: i don't get it Rio: whatever, he's good looking Indie: so your da he aint a wasteman w it Rio: it's easier to be treated like shit sometimes though than accept the love init Indie: call out 🔫 at me bitch Rio: not what i was going for Rio: just saying he ain't special with it, we all do it Indie: 👀 you Rio: 😏 shh Indie: 😂 Rio: neway Rio: he's out, yeah? Indie: innit Rio: 👍 Indie: how you livin Indie: gimme dat 411 Rio: yeah good tbh, the place where i work is cool Rio: i'm just doing promo stuff 'cos i don't wanna get too into anything obvs but it's fun, not dry like the angel was getting Indie: sick! they gonna let me in or ⛔ Rio: see what i can do Rio: sure we get u made up no one gonna be too amp Indie: dont 🤡 me Indie: keep it 💋 Rio: oi don't be doubting my skillz Rio: you ever seen me out like that 😂 rude Indie: doubtin my ability to carry all that Indie: you ever seen me in 👠 bitch Rio: you don't need 'em when you out with me Rio: only just be touching your height in mine so Indie: 😂😂😂 Rio: 😣 be looking stupid short 'round here Indie: you will stand w mckenna Rio: what i'm sayin Indie: 😍 gotta travel far 💖💖 baby Indie: good thing he extra too Rio: 😂 Indie: hows the love Rio: I don't wanna be extra about it at you Rio: but it is good Rio: and no one totally flipped shit on it so Indie: im not that 💔💔💔 you cant speak on it Indie: boy dont get to do me dirty and keep me pining long Rio: That's my girl Rio: 💪 Indie: throw shit @ me again he gon catch these hands Rio: serious, what a cunt Rio: he ain't gonna have the chance Indie: do me a solid & dont tell the fam yeah? your ma only just calmin after wanting to merk drew Rio: 'course Rio: you got it handled Rio: they don't need to know every little thing Indie: i did nearly run there the other thinkin i was gonna be baby'd up same time as my step ma near Indie: but nah 🍀 Rio: remind me to take you drs yeah Rio: 😰 Indie: its chill i not letting any lads near me in the 24 or out of Rio: still, with your memory, i don't think the pill is the one we'll get you the implant maybe Rio: or the coil, they last time Indie: sexy Indie: he was wrapped but it got fucked up idk was wild Indie: get them posho london drs to sort me 😂😂😂 Rio: nah you wanna be the one in control of that shit babe trust Indie: 👑👑👑 Indie: i feel that Rio: boys be mad dumb that shit could be old or ripped there's no telling Indie: fr 😒😒🙄🙄 Indie: he only got a year on me too idc how many girls he tryna chat he been w he dont kno that much Rio: You can defs take off at least 20% of whatever he chatting Rio: Trust Indie: serious? Rio: Probably Rio: or think about how many of them were like Rio: 5 minute fumbles at parties and shit Rio: doesn't really do much for your game even if its a numbers booster Indie: tell me mckennas i wont say shit to him swear down Rio: 😂 i would but idk Rio: i ain't asked Indie: girl WHAT Indie: bitch imma do it for you Indie: we taking off like 90% for him 'cause how he like to chat or nah? Indie: 😂😂😂😂 Rio: I can imagine like, I don't need confirmation Rio: Poor baby 😂 Indie: do he kno your numbers? Rio: Nope Rio: 'less he tryna keep track like that which I doubt lmao Indie: its jam we can keep em on 🔒 Rio: Idc I'd tell you Rio: but he ain't wanna know trust Indie: boy too jel Indie: how they all be Rio: you know Indie: drew be tellin me how to do w my body like he something to me so we can let mckenna stand Rio: yeah that's a whole nother thing Rio: that ain't cute or wanted Indie: he aint 😂😂😂 Rio: truth hurts 😂 Indie: innit tho Rio: ur uber says its there so pull up Indie: i be waving to someone Indie: gotta b Rio: kinda excited even though it's cos everything is shit Indie: it me you gotta be hype 💖💖💖 Rio: That's alright then 😘 Indie: what mckenna say bout it? Rio: He's cool, gonna talk to his Dad so we don't have to Rio: getting food too to show he can, like Indie: trying to flex o boy Rio: ever since you dissed him Rio: gotta get good Indie: he need be told 👌 Indie: bring 🍔 🍕🍟 any of Indie: it aint hard if you smart Rio: idk if he taking orders but i'll let him know 😏 Indie: hit him w a screenshot and add 🥊 or 💪 Indie: 💍💍💍 life be like Rio: You have no idea babe Rio: getting it from both of yous again now 😜 Indie: is it? he wearin the 👖 thats how you 😍😍 Indie: i been knew Indie: 💘💘💘 Rio: Shut up 😩 Rio: That just how it be in the bedroom don't get it twisted Indie: 😏😏 when he such a daddy you let him wear the 👑 out 😏😏😏 Rio: yeah you lucky you still a flight away Rio: 🥊 'fore 💋 forreal Indie: 😂😂😂😂

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survivingthejungle · 7 years

Photo

Never Fade Away, part v

BEFORE WE BEGIN: some thoughts.

-im really stressing out bc we’re scheduling classes fr next year and i decided to take ap spanish a year earlier than i was planning n now i CANT TAKE ART MY FAVORITE CLASS WITH MY FAVORITE TEACHER AND FAVORITE ENVIRONMENT n i’ve got a feeling i’m going to fail it but its oaky i guess u kno wat ever

-my hair is hella soft and shiny rn its RL noice thx u morrocan argan oil conditioner

-my writing is getting shittier and shittier i apologize u guys deserve better. hOWever if you’ve got something in mind for me to write hit me up bc im on a block rn with this other request i’ve had for a while now and i need to get dat creativity flowin

-a terrible boy who aint worth my time is once again ruining my life, please send help i cant keep forgiving him and being the one who ends up apologizing when ive done nothing wrong ugh fuck me

-enjoy por favor

It turned out that the event that Jerome had been so looking forward to was a charity ball for Gotham’s Children’s Hospital. About three hours before it was scheduled to begin, you were once again handed over to Barbara and Tabitha to be dolled up again. “Make sure she looks perfect,” Jerome instructed, “But not like she stands out or anything. Can’t have those GCPD bozos trying to take her away from me.” The two women voiced their understanding and kicked him out of the room, but not before he winked at you as you sat on the other side. You were sitting in the same spot you had been in the first time the two women had used you as a life-sized barbie doll. Once they got started, the entire event of getting you ready for the gala went by in a flash. Barbara did your makeup again, however this time it was much less natural-looking. Your eyeshadow was a dark pink to light pink fade, and your cheekbones were lightly contoured. Tabitha was doing your hair again as well, instead this time she kept your hair down; from what you could see in the mirror she was going for a wavy style. The dress hanging on the closet door across the room was crushed pink velvet with spaghetti straps, straight, and ball gown length. Once your face and hair was to their liking, they had you put the dress on behind a divider.

“Hang on,” Barbara said, rummaging through a drawer on the other side of the divider. She handed you something over the top; when you took it you saw it was a black choker. “Wear that. I’ll get ginger in here so we can go.”

Seconds later, she reentered the room with Jerome, whose eyes were being covered by Barbara’s hand. You’d already stepped out from the divider. She let her hand fall and his eyes landed immediately on you. “Wow,” he said in a low voice, “You look absolutely stunning, babygirl. Spectacular.“

“Thank you,” you whispered. He walked over to you, taking your hands in his. He was considerably taller than you, even despite the fact that Barbara and Tabitha had given you a pair of strappy, matte, black heels.

“We can have so much fun when we get back.” He shot his signature evil grin at you, before leading you out the door. ‘Absolutely not,’ you thought to yourself. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.’ The car ride to the event was relatively civil. You didn’t talk, which wasn’t unusual, and as much as you pushed yourself into the car door to keep distance, Jerome still managed to keep a hand on your leg the whole time. You couldn’t let it distract you, however. You were too busy formulating an escape plan in your head. ‘How will I get away from them all? Do I go straight to the police right after, do I lay low for a while instead?’

The events of the night must’ve been entertaining, you were sure, but you were too busy looking around every two seconds in search of an escape route. While Jerome and Barbera were preparing their act backstage, you were kept by Tabitha’s side the whole time. The only thing keeping you from running at every chance was the expertly hidden pocket knife she kept at your side all night. You kept silently praying someone in the crowd would recognize you and say something, but then, what would that’ve meant for the knife at your side? Escaping wasn’t going to be easy, but you would be damned if you knew you had let the opportunity for freedom pass because of a piece of metal with a point. Before the show started, Tabitha had dragged you along with her to a dark corner in an unoccupied hallway. She stood facing you and moved the pocketknife away. “Listen,” she started, “I don’t want to have to keep you locked up after tonight. Theo has something planned tonight, and I want to help you get away when it’s all over.”

Your jaw just about dropped to the floor. You were dumbstruck! “I- I don’t understand…” you stammered.

“Look, just- just hear me out.” You nodded. “If I let you escape, you have to promise you won’t tell the cops about the rest of us. Just tell them that when Jerome had you, he was alone. No accomplices. No roommates. None of us. Just him. The police tells the news what you told them, and you’ll be fine. Theo won’t try to come after you if he thinks you got him off the hook. Got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You’re a good kid, (y/n). You deserve to move past all this. You didn’t deserve any of it. So can I trust you not to run your mouth?”

“Of course. Thank you, Tabitha.” You meant it. You had no hard feelings towards her, or even Barbara for that matter. They were nice to you the whole time, what’s the difference if they were both a little whack? They weren’t the ones who kidnapped you or held you hostage. Tabitha was literally helping you escape. You would always be grateful for that.

She smiled. “I still have to keep this on you though,” she motioned to the knife. “For the sake of convincing Theo I’m not planning anything.” You could understand that. Once you reached your table. You did your best to hide your face from the rest of the crowd. You didn’t want someone spotting you now and ruining your whole plan, that would just end badly.

The events of the night flew by, up until when Jerome highjacked the magician’s bit and started killing people. Some in the crowd had escaped, but the majority of them, like you, were not as fortunate. Then, of course, there were the bits where GCPD detective, Jim Gordon, tried to intervene (if only for a minute or so), and when Jerome tried to kill Bruce Wayne, but none of that was as shocking as what happened next.

Theo Galavan, his mentor and leader, betrayed his trust and murdered him on the stage. You couldn’t help but react a bit shocked- despite what he had put you through, a stab to the throat seemed to be a very unleasant way to go. As soon as the knife was lodged in his neck and Barbara had escaped, everyone at the gala immediately fled, seemingly afraid that something worse was coming if they stayed there any longer. Tabitha did her best to guide you away from Theo’s view, pushing you into the crowd so you could blend in. You turned around and your sight of her was lost; maybe in order to help you gain some escape time against her brother.

When the cool, refreshing night air hit your face, you cried. You immediately started searching for the police when a strong hand came down on your shoulder. Your head snapped around to find the source, and you found yourself in front of a man wearing a GCPD badge. “Oh my God. (y/n) (y/ln)?” The man asked you.

As much as you had been crying before, you were full out sobbing now. “Yes,” you choked out, nodding your head. You weren’t sure how to respond to the situation at hand. Your captor was dead, you were free, standing next to one of the only people who had any control over the madness of that God-forsaken city, and you were alive. You barely knew what to say next, so you said the first thing you thought of. “I wanna go home,” you cried.

The ride back to the GCPD precinct was quiet, but you didn’t mind. The detective, who actually ended up being the infamous Jim Gordon, had given you a blanket before putting you in the car and calling your family to let them know that you’d been found, and you were alive and unharmed. Before being allowed to go back home, you had to be taken in to give an official statement. When you arrived, you had been given a change of clothes- a t-shirt and some sweatpants- and a big mug of coffee, your blanket still hanging around your shoulders. You were sat down on the other side of Gordon’s desk when the official recording started. “Just say what happened.”

“Um, well Jerome, he- I was walking home from school on the day that I was taken and he kidnapped me then- it was just him, I never saw anyone else. And he kept me locked up-he never did anything to me, just talked, but I think he must’ve had an obsession.”

Gordon interrupted. “Why do you say that?”

“He- he always kept talking about how he thought I was ‘his’ like he- like he owned me, or something… he liked pet names a lot. And then tonight, he brought me to the gala, he said he wanted to ‘show me off’, or something dumb like that. The only reason I didn’t run during was because he said if I tried anything, he’d kill my family, that he had them tied up somewhere. So I stayed where I was until that man killed him. Then I ran.”

He switched off the tape recorder. “Thanks for cooperating. Your family is on their way.” He stood up to go finish his work. “And, (y/n)-” he stopped to face you. “I’m really sorry about what happened to you. You seem like a good kid. You didn’t deserve any of that. I'll have one of the guys escort you and your family home. And-... I'd recommend group therapy... or something like that. To help you cope.”

“Thank you. For everything. And... I'm sure my parents will be on board with that. ”

The reunion with your family was full of tears and hugs. Your parents had bags under their eyes, they looked like that hadn’t slept in weeks. You embraced each other in the steps of the precinct, falling to your knees. You couldn't tell how long you all had been like that, but eventually you were led back to your home by one of the officers. The night was indescribably emotional and full of tears.

Your story was on the news for a week or so, and afterwards, it faded into the background. The only reason it was such a popular story was because of the fact that Jerome was involved. There were hundreds of kidnappings every week in Gotham, and most of them went unnoticed by the media. But they had a field day with you. Apparently during his raid of the GCPD, he mentioned how he was the one who had taken you, and that's why the police were in such a hurry to find you.

Your parents signed you into a hospital 3 weeks later. You had been mostly back to normal since you had been recovered, so they weren't expecting your sudden mental breakdown at all. The full weight of your trauma hadn't hit until then, and then suddenly it came crashing all at once. It started with you having random outbursts or crying here and there, but then your handle over the situation deteriorated. Next, you stopped eating. You couldn't risk it without being sick. Then, you stopped leaving your room. This went on for a few weeks until one day, you passed out on the stairs.

You had never really been a depressed kid before, so this was alarming to your family. Your time spent in theater had molded you into an extroverted, generally happy, and energetic person. When the light disappeared from your eyes and smile and were replaced by hollow, sunken cheeks and dark circles around your eyes, you all knew something was wrong. The doctors diagnosed PTSD and recommended 2 weeks in the hospital for your recovery.

You had lots of visitors, and that made you happy, but you could no longer express that happiness. You were put on mild medication, which helped, and you started feeling better as time went by. Most of your visitors were friends and family, but sometimes other people would come. Most of the time, they were Jerome fanatics. There must've been a cult of them or something, because every time it was a different person or group of people. They idolized him, and, by association, you. They saw Jerome as a messiah and you as his 'chosen one'. They always tried to get you to tell them about him, and at first you did.

"Well, he's... extravagant, for sure," you'd say. "He never hurt me, necessarily, but I mean, he killed people. He was a bad dude. I'm glad he's gone." This, of course, upset them. They were convinced he was just a rebel against authority and believed he could do no wrong, which is why you requested they stop being allowed to visit. This didn't mean the cult stopped keeping tabs on you, however. It just meant they had to keep their distance in order to keep you in their plans to resurrect Jerome and reunite him with you.

-THat was a shit cut off point i know and i'm sorry, im just tired and this took a long time

-j man will be back in the next installment of this series so don't worry ya lil brains

-PLEASE REQUEST STFF IM SO BORED AND NEVER BUSY AT ALL AND I NEED TO START BEING CREATIVE AND WRITING AGAIN

-my art class sketchbook is looking killer im so proud of her she's beautiful and if u want to see any of the works in here let me know i want to share ehr with you all

-my depression has been pretty subsided lately and that makes me super happy!! i mean like i still never do shit anyways but like at least im starting to be less sad about it i guess

WELL THERE U HAVE IT THATS AL L FOR TONIGHT FRIENDS

#jerome #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jerome valeska gotham #gotham #gotham imagine #cameron monaghan imagine #imagine #reader insert #reader insert gotham

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voidwizerd-archive · 7 years

Text

BONDING EXPERIENCES?? ==>

[[ logs with @carnivalsorphans, our muses keep bonding in very confusing ways, what the fuck are these two ]]

voidwizerd okay first off please dont bring this up w Kankri bc th last thing i can handle rn is anythin resemblin a moral talk im too pissed

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd do you ever like get a super specific urge to just beat a body senseless does this happen to you

carnivalsorphans often enough that the thought some people don't kinda baffles

voidwizerd i cant get at who i wanna get at theyre all universes away n maybe DEAD which sure would be fuckin convenient fr them huh i just

carnivalsorphans hahaha yeah fuckin relatable

voidwizerd wanna find some shitty person n whale on em until theyre only sorta recognizable

carnivalsorphans hmmm

voidwizerd teeth aint that necessary anyhow ugh

carnivalsorphans hahahaha do you actually want me ta find ya someone shitty ta fuck up or we just talkin hypotheticals and feelings?

voidwizerd i honestly dont even know i just wanted to confirm someone else experiences this too

voidwizerd i figured if anyone does itd be you

carnivalsorphans aight, just feelings yeah, you bet sib a lot. and it's hard. just kinda.... keepin that real tight inside it winds ya up a bit warps you and makes ya feel all weird til ya can do somethin ta make it stop i used ta bleed myself and then paint with it, but wicked said that's bad, so i'm tryinna figure somethin else out

carnivalsorphans i felt that way bout anyone i actually give a fuck about, where any time they talk on their old shit it just makes me tense up and start this fuckin rumble

carnivalsorphans usually stop it afore it gets loud though kankri says he don't feel that way at all, but i bet there's somethin that'd wind him up that bad somethin for everyone that just makes em wanna beat someone bloody

voidwizerd yeah it just its like wrappin your insides up tighter n tighter n tighter n it feels like itll rip n spill everythin out

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd so fuck, if its gonna tear eventually why not choose myself how that happens???

carnivalsorphans yeah and i'd think at least no one was gettin hurt but me and i like pain anyhow

carnivalsorphans and it spills out nice and slow and i get somethin pretty at the end of it but ... ya gotta pick ya poison, sometimes

voidwizerd i guess i did that last one kinda fr different reasons n a bit more extreme but ha ha ........i fuckin hate copin

carnivalsorphans yeah, it's hard i got a lot ta cope with

carnivalsorphans used ta think i was better than addiction, but i ... dunno. feel like an addict sometimes. wicked says i might be one, even. instead of the bottom of a bottle, i just got my claws

voidwizerd just bout anythin can be addicted to i used to run until my body gave out only way my mind would go quiet i miss th quiet

carnivalsorphans .... yeah

voidwizerd but Kankri would worry

carnivalsorphans fuck havin connections ta people hahaha

voidwizerd right its terrible but also i wouldnt know what happy is like either

carnivalsorphans .... yeah

voidwizerd th loneliness was killin me ha like literally lmaooooo

carnivalsorphans yeah i can feel that

voidwizerd well no okay technically i was doin that my own damn self

carnivalsorphans you wouldn't think, surrounded by church who loves me

carnivalsorphans but ya know. lonely at the top

voidwizerd fuckin pussy i was broke in less than two sweeps. whoop whoop yeah yeah i bet lonely is terrible, fuck that shit

carnivalsorphans used ta be worse but used ta be, i didn't care .... way way fuckin back when saw people bein all close to eachother and it seemed like a waste a fuckin time and energy and like they was a bit away from stabbin eachother in the back

carnivalsorphans .... fuckin ignorance was bliss

voidwizerd ha wouldnt it be so much easier just to not

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd not need that not fuckin CLING to affection like a goddamn lifeline bc its either that n bein treated like garbage or bein treated like nothin at all

carnivalsorphans yeah, fuck that

voidwizerd hurt or isolation take your pick trick question they both hurt and they both make you feel isolated

carnivalsorphans yeah hahahahaha

carnivalsorphans rather have real hurt though. makes shit hard ta focus on .... sometimes, at least

voidwizerd mmn

carnivalsorphans > Try not to think of Artemi. > Try /really hard/

voidwizerd do i like pain fr kinky reasons or do i like it bc i just want someone to beat me to shit

carnivalsorphans hahahahaha

voidwizerd these are th questions

carnivalsorphans just assume it's a little a both

carnivalsorphans nothin's ever so black and white sometimes a lil more of one, sometimes a lil more of another

voidwizerd fuckin

carnivalsorphans and sometimes it fades away so much ya almost forget it's there

voidwizerd hate that shit

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd wish it could be simple shouldnt knowin yourself be simple but nah

carnivalsorphans hahahahaha

voidwizerd other ppl know me better than me

carnivalsorphans depends on how fuckin much you want to know

voidwizerd aint that just th fuckin way

carnivalsorphans i've tried real hard not ta let anyone know me fuckin hate bein /known/ bein... able ta pin down predict

voidwizerd sure is a thing its scary

voidwizerd scarier than anythin

carnivalsorphans .... yeah and not just cuz i'm scared for my church not just cuz i'm scared a how people will take it just... 's

voidwizerd if i didnt trust Kankri so much id prolly just. go outta my fuckin mind of terror. ha

carnivalsorphans yeah every time me and wicked have a real talk, i get a bit.... tense. all tensed up for him ta fuckin recoil or use shit against me or probably ain't the best way ta feel with ya rail, but

voidwizerd no i i get that fuck dude i literally couldnt tell you how often Jane n Dirk did that to me but my stupid ass kept confidin in em anyway

carnivalsorphans hahaha i never risked it sometimes i'd tell shit to people i was

voidwizerd only reason i didnt confide w Jake at all was cause he never paid attention to anythin that wasnt bout him

carnivalsorphans hurtin. i ain't ever had enough trust in fuckers to do that sorta shit too often

voidwizerd shit dude if ur only confidantes are th ppl ur torturin you just might need to get out more

carnivalsorphans hahahahaha yeah

carnivalsorphans i kinda went a bit nuts after i fell got better though

voidwizerd good on you shoulder pat for success

carnivalsorphans there's a lotta things i miss bout that time. probably more than i should. one more addiction ta add onto the pile

voidwizerd ha careful dude dont wanna be breakin records here

carnivalsorphans hahahaha i've lived a long time, i set all the records

voidwizerd my point is to get better rather than worse knucklehead though ha tbh this is one of those lights i doubt thats really a possible thing

carnivalsorphans hahaha how bout we just try for not gettin worse tolight? wanna come over? for the sake a not bein alone

voidwizerd i .....yeah thanks

carnivalsorphans fuck knows i ain't gonna be good for bein alone tonight neither. .... but i don't really wanna worry wicked over me bein all whatever i am right now

voidwizerd "whatever" is a good word fr feelins tonight "whatever" with a side of "sad n violent"

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd apparently not a regular or good thing to feel .. is it bad fr me to be so relieved you get this way too

carnivalsorphans naw 's normal ta feel relieved that ya ain't alone in ya experiences

carnivalsorphans fuck, that's sorta why i hang around sugary and vel and wicked

voidwizerd oh huh i guess i like. well i didnt even know i was angry until well

carnivalsorphans until you was burnin

voidwizerd yeah

carnivalsorphans i think vel sorta gets like that

voidwizerd i guess i been mad a long time but

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd long as i ignored it things never happened

carnivalsorphans people tend ta forget angry is somethin they is allowed ta be

voidwizerd until that naggin suspicion got confirmed, that i was treated no better than shit on someones heel, n i just welp there goes th neighborhood

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd anger is its big

carnivalsorphans anger is born out of sorrow a lot sorrow at fuckin... lack at bein wronged

voidwizerd .....yeah

carnivalsorphans at missed opportunities and bein taken advantage of

voidwizerd at at knowin i did nothin to get hurt n did *everythin* to win approval thats just

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd seventeen goddamn years of waste right there

carnivalsorphans yeah sweeps of lack of what ya deserved

voidwizerd i didnt deserve that

carnivalsorphans yeah

voidwizerd *they* deserved my goddamn fists i wish id fought back

carnivalsorphans it's aight to be angry bout that shit. people always say it's aight to mourn, but sometimes mournin involves gettin fuckin pissed

voidwizerd i wish id listened to my instincts

carnivalsorphans you did what ya knew ta do and that's... somethin

carnivalsorphans may not always feel good

voidwizerd i loved em too much was th problem id let anythin slide cause they was my whole world

carnivalsorphans ain't nothin wrong with lovin maybe a bit wrong with bein blinded by it, but there ain't nothin to be done about that except learn from it

voidwizerd yeah took

carnivalsorphans and fuckin... bein tempered hurts, but it does make ya stronger

voidwizerd fuckin 21 years but i learned

carnivalsorphans .... cmere?

voidwizerd yeah

voidwizerd yeah ill be there

carnivalsorphans > Probably help to send coords. > And then time to snug a friend

voidwizerd > Friend will cry and rant a lot but appreciate much. > Mostly cry.

carnivalsorphans > Pet the friend. Kiss their head and wipe away tears sometimes and comfort and offer inappropriate jokes when tears seem to be letting up.

voidwizerd > Jokes get a smile and then even more crying because what the fuck is an appropriate response to people caring about them.

carnivalsorphans > More kisses because how do you deal with people crying Normally anyway?

voidwizerd > Kisses back a little because that seems to help and not kissing back was starting to feel Weird.

carnivalsorphans > Prr? Wipe away tears, focus more on wiz than your own shit.

voidwizerd > Pr... Still feeling terrible, and thinking about bad gunk, but at least not alone. And good to be with someone who kinda gets it. "We're sorta fucked up huh."

carnivalsorphans "Yeah. But we make it work."

voidwizerd "Fuck dude we sure do. By the skin of our fuckin teeth but we're doin it."

carnivalsorphans "I think we're doin better than some people."

voidwizerd "That's optimistic." > Weak laugh.

carnivalsorphans "Naw, we ain't still stuck in our old shit. I think that's better off. Some people never get that far."

voidwizerd "...That's true." > Snuggle up more after decaptchaing more blankets. Feeling more vulnerable to Ringleader's chilliness.

carnivalsorphans > Oh, good. A layer between you and the warmth. ... Give the bundled wiz a squish. "There's somethin to be said for bein proud of how far we've come, at least. Even if we ain't where we wanna be yet." > .... Where does he want to be though?

voidwizerd "Where we even tryin to get to, though?" > Squish is good. Quiet purr.

carnivalsorphans > A snort. "Ya know, I was thinkin the exact same thing." > Loud purring.

voidwizerd "Don't that just figure. Tolight we're real fulla questions that don't got proper answers, huh."

carnivalsorphans "I dunno that we gotta know where we're goin ta be glad we're not where we were."

voidwizerd > Now you snort. "That's some deep shit."

carnivalsorphans "That's me. Deep as fuck. ya know my real secret now.

voidwizerd "I'm honored!" > Quiet laugh. Moody staring at nothing for a while. "Think I'm done cryin now. Got that hollow sense settlin in nice an blegh.”

carnivalsorphans “Yeah, fuck that. I only appreciate that shit when i’m needin to think after bein pissed. And even then, it ain’t the same as true calm.”

voidwizerd "Mmh. Better than feelin I'm about to like... break into a million billion pieces. Like takin a sledgehammer to a window. Ha." > Blink slow. Slower. You're not moving so much.

carnivalsorphans > Squish. You ain't their rail, it's not your responsibility to make sure they're all... In tact. .... But still, you're a bit concerned. A tiny bit. "Anythin I can be doin ta help?"

voidwizerd "'unno. Feelin's gone for now." > Whoops, that there is a yawn. You rub your face, trying to stay awake. "What about you?"

carnivalsorphans "Feel.... Warm." Soft purring. "Probably about time ta pass out."

voidwizerd "Mmh." Sprawl out a bit. "Thanks for bein my comrade in shittiness."

carnivalsorphans "Misery demands company and all that. Plus i like hangin around you."

voidwizerd "Gay."

carnivalsorphans "Yeah." Forehead kiss.

voidwizerd > Mumble a barely comprehensible "suuuuper gay" before nodding off. > RL's a good friend.

carnivalsorphans > Pet Wiz a little longer before going to sleep yourself.

#logs #carnivalsorphans #[[ okay they talk about a lotta junk so here goes ]]#violence //#addiction //#alcoholism //#alcohol //#self harm //#abuse //#torture //#ask to tag //

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bisexualbenpaul-old · 7 years

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miscevus replied to your post: y’all give me quick fic requests idec the...

whispers,,, softly,,,,, nea/pasta,,,, like that post u reblogged earlier,,, modern lunch date w/ cross (and optional mana) overseeing fr the bg,,,,,,,, ;o

HERE GOES SOMETHIN

Wallet, keys, phone, and a proper outfit— triple check! Though, when Nea stands before the full-body mirror, admiring and thoroughly inspecting himself, he wonders if the outfit is… too much. What if Allen thinks him ridiculous for dressing up in such a way? After a moment of thinking on that, Nea notes that his date is far worse when it comes to this sort of thing. He recalls with a brief smile the time Allen had to go to a super market— simple little city super market— and he wore fancy black slacks with a full button-up white shirt. When Nea innocently (but not really) inquired how much hair gel Allen used for that trip, the brunette responded with one of the dirtiest looks, probably in the history of dirty looks.

It just served to make Nea laugh, though, and at the memory of that, he even snickers to himself in the present. He’s fine, and Allen may even appreciate the formal-ish look.

Before stepping away from the view of the mirror, Nea gives himself a quick finger guns gesture, and then he’s off. Out the door, into his car, and to Allen’s apartment he goes, excited for today but apprehensive as well. The first date with his best friend of… well, he can’t exactly remember how long they’ve been friends, but it’s been a while. He almost couldn’t believe that Allen had actually been interested in him, but here he is, driving to meet his date. It’s all so weird and amazing.

“Who’s the shit? I’m the shit,” he says to himself once or twice as he parks his car and then turns it off. Self-assurance is a mighty thing, Nea knows, so a little encouragement every now and again won’t hurt.

As he climbs out of the vehicle, he peers up the outside stairwell with apartments on every floor, searching for Allen at the very top. He’s not there yet, so Nea patiently waits, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and standing by his car as he does so. He successfully manages to completely zone out in that lapse of time that Allen isn’t there, and though he snaps out of it when he hears his date greet him from the top floor, he doesn’t remember anything he had been thinking about.

“Apologies for making you wait,” Allen says as he hurriedly approaches Nea’s car shaking his head. “Cross came over briefly, the annoying fool wasting nearly all of my time. You pulled in just as he left me be.”

Nea scoffs, looking up to the uppermost platform a last time, finding the redheaded man in question, leaned over the rail with the stupidest look he makes. Nea knows that look, and he knows what it means, so to combat the suggestive comments he will definitely get later, he simply ignores Cross and gets into the car with Allen.

“A fool!” Allen repeats in exasperation, immediately beginning to rummage through the compartments where Nea often keeps his music CDs. “He said Mana informed him of our date today. He visited me just to hound me about it! ‘Where are you two going?’ ‘Are you one of those no-sex-until-the-third-date kind of guys?’”

A grin finds its way to Nea’s face as they exit the parking lot. “That’s how he knows to be a friend, Allen, and I know it can be nuts sometimes, but he’s just messing with you nine times out of ten.”

“Well, it’s that last one that I would like to experience more of,” Allen snorts and inserts a CD marked ‘angry mood’. Nea marked them specifically for how Allen felt for the duration of their car rides, so whatever he was feeling, the CD would have the songs he liked most for those moods.

Thus, The Neighborhood blasted within the confines of Nea’s car all the way to the restaurant.

It didn’t take too awful long for the pair to be seated, their drinks brought, and their orders taken. The entire time, Allen sat very proper, straight, shoulders back, never setting his elbows on the table. To Nea, it’s nothing short of charming— he has seen Allen relax before, and it’s not that he feels he needs to look a certain way to be perceived a certain way. He just likes it, and Nea loves it. He wonders if he’s biased, however, considering Allen could probably do anything and it would be charming.

“Manatees aren’t endangered anymore, did you know that?” Allen suddenly pipes up, peering over his big round-rimmed glasses at his date. “We have had quite a past few years, but manatees getting their wind back is wonderful news.”

Nea nods, grinning. “The Siberian tiger, too,” he adds on.

Allen beams. “Honestly? I hadn’t heard! That’s exciting, maybe we really will improve on that front. Those animals could be wiped from existence, and that would be that— terrifying, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I think people will stop being stupid and get their shit together before too much longer,” he responds, now moving his attention to the silverware wrapped neatly in napkins before him. He nudges them a bit, getting them lined up with the foamy mat where his plate will go, and it takes a moment, but he manages to get it right.

They continue to talk, over multiple things. Current events, music, what prank to play on Cross next— it’s easy. They were already friends, they’re just… a different kind of friends now. They can still talk like friends, act like friends, and that’s one of the coolest things about this scenario.

Their food arrives not too long after they had been seated, served with quick “if you need anything, let us know”s and “please enjoy your meal”s. Allen takes no time in digging in, but Nea takes a tad more time to start. He unfolds his napkin, retrieves the cutlery he thinks he’ll need, places them on the edge of his plate, and refolds the napkin. He had, unfortunately, drank his beverage a bit too fast, so now he has to worry about not finishing the full meal. Hopefully, that won’t be the case, and as he stares at said meal, trying to decide what to eat first, he spaces out again.

It’s only a moment, however, before his phone vibrating calls his attention.

Quickly, Nea grabs the device, opens it, and sees he has a text message. From Cross? Weird, but not incredibly unexpected.

“Why aren’t you eating?” is all the text reads.

Nea stops for a good minute, blinking at the words. Is the redhead trying to act like he knows what’s happening, so he can pretend he’s psychic or some shit?

“What the hell, man?” is what Nea texts back.

“Look behind you”

He squints at the text for a few seconds and then tries to subtly do as it said, but he doesn’t find Cross anywhere among the few people seated in the rows behind them. Just as Nea begins to turn around in his seat again, one of the customers about three booths back raises their hand. It’s a quick and nearly unnoticeable gesture, but upon closer inspection, Nea does indeed find that red stubble on the bottom of that sharp chin, and though a dark hood is pulled up on his head, Cross’ crazy bright red hair spills ever so slightly out and onto his chest.

Beside him, another someone sits, less disguised, only wearing a pair of shades and a fake moustache on his upper lip. Mana is with him.

Once it registers that his best friend and his brother snuck onto this date with him, Nea quickly turns around in his seat again, trying to stifle his laughter as he returns to his phone. All he sends back to Cross is a “wtf” and then puts it down for the last time until after his food is done.

“Having fun, there?” Allen asks, grabbing his drink. “Who texted you that made you laugh?”

Nea can’t help the few giggles that spill out, so he says honestly, “It’s fuckin’ Cross.”

Allen rolls his eyes. “I am not surprised. No doubt, he plans on knowing every detail of our date, but the poor thing’s a bit impatient, isn’t he? Good lord.”

As he eats, Nea tries his hardest to stop laughing, but he continues to lose it every few minutes. “Yeah. Impatient is definitely a word that can be used here.”

Later, once climbing back into the car, Nea would pick up his phone and find that Cross had replied another time after his last message. “I wanted to make sure you kids had fun”, it read, and Nea started laughing all over again.

#miscevus #misc tag #dgm #d gray man #my writing #this iS SO FUCKIN CHEESY AND DUMB I HAD A GR8 TIME #THANK U MISC

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