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ornii · 6 months

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|| My Kind of Crazy ||

Harley Quinn X Male Reader

So after Binge Watching Barbie, rewatching Suicide Squad, Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn), don’t forget that part, and The Suicide Squad, my appreciation For Morgot Robbie has increased more than it already has. Adore her. So, here’s part one of ?

(Any Tags I forgot please let me know.)

The Stench of rotting carpet, old wood and the tinge of blood was in the air. But this was all a part of the plan. Inside that old decrepit apartment you had your pistol Aimed at a man standing before you, Batman. Yes, The, Batman. A series of choices lead to this moment, but it wasn’t always like this. You were his Robin, his Boy wonder. Now you’re the shadow hiding within Gotham. Your foot was placed on the chest of another man, who’s cold and chilling laugher echoes though the room, Joker. It was on this same day, that you were Abducted; tortured, and subsequently Killed by the Very man. A Trip in the Lazuras pit changed you for the worst. But to your surprise after your revival, Joker was still alive, and Batman hadn’t sunk revenge for your murder, and all you could ask was…

“Why?” You as under your Helmet.. “Why him?” You said, Batman was stoic, silent.

“Who are you..?” He grumbles, his voice modulated to avoid detection, “You don’t know? I’m hurt.” You say with much sarcasm, you grip your helmet and tear it off, showing your face to Batman, even with the small J scar under your eye, it’s obvious who you were. Out of all the people he thought, he never expected his old Sidekick..

To be under the Red Hood.

Jokers eyes lock with the scar and he laughs much harder.

“Wow, now THAT, is funny!” He has his grilled toothy grin, and you placed your foot higher right on his throat. The wheezing laughter continues slowly.

“You don’t get to talk.” You growl at him, and then turnt your attention back to Batman.

“You know, I forgive you for not saving me, you can’t save everyone. But why, why is HE still alive?!” You scream, the rage and trauma building up in you finally. “After everything he’s done, he’s crippled, broken, murdered people! Why, why is he still here?!”

“You don’t understand… you never understood.” He said to you, and you scoff.

“What? That you can’t do it? That you don’t have the spine to! It’s too hard isn’t it?” You ask, Bruce shakes his head.

“No, I know it’s easy, he deserves to die a thousand times over, but if I killed him, i wouldn’t stop myself… I’d justify it, then I’d justify killing someone else, and it’ll keep going.. and I’ll sink further, and further into the dark.” Bruce said, you shook your head.

“You can’t control yourself… I’m not talking about Dent, or Penguin, Even Harley!” You toss the gun, Bruce instinctively catches it but, obviously isn’t capable of holding a gun.

“Do it, shoot him. Kill one, and save millions of lives… you’re the Batman right! You save people, don’t you? So save them! And kill him!” You demand, Bruce stares at you, both of you unwavering in your convictions. But he simply dropped the gun.

“No… I’m sorry, (Y/n).” He said in a solemn whisper.

“Fine!” You yell, revealing one last trick up your sleeve. an explosive set in the entire apartment block, revealing the dead man’s switch in your other hand. Joker laughs as he looks around it all beeping. He turns to Batman, and just smiles

“You, you found a way to win! But to lose everything! AHAHAHAHAHA—“ he laughs, reveling in the chaos as you let go of the switch, Batman made a choice, and now all three of you had to live with it, and in a flash, an explosion, it all faded to black for you.

You’ve been playing that in your mind for the past year you’ve been in Belle Reeve. Sitting in your orange room, captive. The 4x4 room kept you isolated, only for a bang at the door.

“Inmate. You’ve got a visitor! Stand up, face the wall.” He yells, you weren’t keen to listen to others. You stood up, facing the door, cracking your neck.

“Any of your men step in, I’m sending ten of them to the ICU.” You said, very calmly, the door opens and they rush in, training with the Batman made fighting multiple enemies a breeze, punches, kicks and knees flew all though the room as you delivered counters, combos and ruthless tactics. But all fun even came at an end as you were apprehended and locked into a chair. Struggling like a dog you strained to get out, you were wheels around Belle Reeve as you see eleven stretchers head to your cell.

“Told you..” you mutter, struggling in the binds. Being wheeled into an interrogation room, you kept your lips purse until you saw your visitor, she wore a women’s suit and skirt, her eyes deep brown like mud drowning you in muck. Amanda Waller. You looked around and saw that the room was being monitored by a single camera. She gave one officer the nod and he presses a button, the red light on the camera fades off.

“You’re not as scary as I expected.” She said, holding a file she sat down across from you. You knew about Waller, working with the Batman gave you some intel on contacts. And she was the nastiest one of all.

“Waller?” You ask.

“In the flesh.” She responded and opened your file, reading it off.

“(Y/n) Todd, Father was a factory worker, died due to Gang related activity. Mother was an addict, died years ago, leaving you alone, but you see.. that’s where it ends, as if you faded off the planet of the earth. Until you resurface a year later.” She said, all of that was true.

“What’s your point?” You ask. And she reads off another page.

“Peak Physical fitness, durability, speed, Agility, Strenght. Master Of Arms and a Genius level intellect… you are a dangerous and powerful individual, so I’m offering you a chance to cut your sentence down..” she offers

“You’re bluffing..” you struggle in the binds more, but Waller keeps her dead stare.

“Do I look like I’m bluffing?” She said, you stop and she looks you in the eye. “you complete your task, you get years off your sentence, you fail.. you die. Fairly simple.” She said, a million thoughts raced though your mind, but one did.

“Get out, Find Joker.. Kill, Joker.”

“…Im in.” You said, Waller takes her file and closes it. “Good, get his bomb in and relay with the others.” She says, your attitude shifts pretty quickly, “bomb?” You ask, “What do you mean bomb?!” You yell, but nobody said anything, being wheeled away you were held down by officers and a needle injected right into the base of your skull. Granted it wasn’t the worse thing that’s been done to you, still hurt. Finally reaching the breaking point you were wheeled outside, the sun finally hitting your skin and you found yourself surrounded by soldiers, many wounded, others preparing for what seems to be a war.

You turn your head left to spot someone you know too well, Deadshot. Seems he was also canned to Belle Reeve, and to your left was a woman you knew too well, Harley Quinn, also a prisoner. Your blood began to boil even more than before and you were ready to throttle her, but with all these soldiers here, you doubt you’d be able to do it without getting filled with lead. So you bid your time as any Hunter would. A Soldier approached them, and looked them up and down.

“Unlock 'em.” He orders, the soldiers obliged and your restraints are removed, you sit up from yoyr bindings and look further down your line. You even spot Killer Croc, in all his, Lizardy goodness. Harley Stretches and keeps her off putting smile. Closest to Harley was a man adorned with Tattoos, ElDiablo was his name, you heard a few reports about him from Batman.

“Mmm! Hi, boys! Harley Quinn. How do you do?” She said, obviously no one said anything. It was dead silence until she looks around. “Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape? Sorry. It's the voices…” she said, but laughs, “I'm kidding! Jeez!…That's not what they really said.”

The soldiers aren’t done assembling their Squad, more soldiers drag over a sack that’s fighting pretty furiously.

“What do we got here? Twelve pounds of shit in a 10-pound sack. Welcome to the party, Captain Boomerang.” He watches them cut it open, Captain immediately swings on the first person he sees. The Soldiers pin him to a wall.

“Hey, what's going on, man? Hey, one minute I'm playing Mahjong with me nanna, then this red streak hits me outta nowhere.” Boomerang pleads.

“Shut up! You were caught robbing a diamond exchange.”

“I was not!”

He Totally Was.

There was one last member, Slipknot, the man who could climb anything, which was an odd ability set, it nonetheless he was here. The man before them all was Colonel Rick Flag.

“Listen up! In your necks, injection you got, it's a nanite explosive. It's the size of a rice grain, but it's powerful as a hand grenade. You disobey me, you die. You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what? You die.” He says, which throws a wrench in your plans to escape, Harley obnoxiously puts her hand up.

“I'm known to be quite vexing. I'm just forewarning you.”

“Lady, shut up!” Flag yells, and then composed himself, “This is the deal. You're going somewhere very bad, to do something that'll get you killed. But until that happens, - you're my problem.” He explains, Deadshot looks him up and down.

“Mmm. So was that like a, uh, pep talk?” He asks.

“Yeah. That was a pep talk. There's your shit. Grab what you need for a fight. We're wheels up in 10.” He said, crates of gear was brought in for you and your “Teammates.”

“You might wanna work on your team motivation thing. You heard of Phil Jackson? He's like the gold standard, okay? Triangle, bitch. Study.” Deadshot, with those very inspiring words to flag suits up with everyone. You open your crate to see the old gear you had, still in damn good condition, and you suit up, Your body armor and jacket lined with shuriken, explosives and throwing knives, a combat knife strapped to your leg. Twin M1911 Dual Handguns, mint condition. And your helmet, still holding one scar on it, you take the helmet out of its case and stare at it. Your eyes waver for a moment to your other teammates, everyone seems to have some dumb gimmick, but your eyes dressed down Harley, not by your choice of course, you’ve been cramped in a hole for nearly a year, and the first woman you see was stripping down in front of you. An urge came over you and you knew exactly what it was, she finally gets her shirt on and sees almost every guy staring.

“What?” She said, they all quickly go back to doing what they were supposed to do, you as well, pushing those feelings down. You keep looking at your mask, Deadshot does the same thing with his.

“What? Won't fit anymore? Too much junk in the trunk?” Harley said to him.

“Nah. Every time I put this on, somebody dies.” He tried to shake it off, but couldn’t that.. this wouldn’t be a normal contracts

“And?” Harley said.

“I like putting it on.” He admits, she smirks and grabs her mallet, “Goody. Somethin' tells me a whole lotta people are about to die!” She sounds so giddy.

“Yeah. It's us. We're being led to our deaths.” Diablo said.

“I don’t plan on it.” You said, looking down the barrels of one of your 1911’s.

“You know something we don’t Mate?” Boomerang asks, “No.” You reply. “I just don’t plan on dying again.” You mutter.

“What you a zombie or something?” Deadshot looks unimpressed. “Something like that… point is; Been dead, done that… I plan on getting out of here..” you say, and turn to Harley.

“I’ve got business to take care of.” You made your claim pretty obvious but it didn’t matter to you, escape is the only plan, and getting this explosive disabled. “You don’t seem to giddy like these guys..” you ask El Diablo, “I’m not here to hurt anyone man.” He said. Deadshot was the first to let them all know.

“Y'all might wanna leave old boy alone. He could torch this whole joint. Ain't that right, ese?” He looks at Diablo, who calmly shows his hands, flames emitting from them, but low ones:

“Ain't got nothing to worry about from me. I'm cool, homie.” He says, Flag returns to them, holding a tablet with Amanda on screen.

“Behold the voice of God.” He said, and she gives them the rundown. “For those of you who don't know me officially, my name is Amanda Waller. There's an active terrorist event in Midway City. I want you to enter the city, rescue HVT-1, and get them to safety.” She orders.

“I'm sorry. Uh... For those of us who don't speak good guy, what is HVT-1?” Deadshot asks.

“HVT.. High Value Target.” You say, “It’s like a bounty, Basically a rescue mission.” You explain, Deadshot nods, admitting you made it sound much less cool. “The only person that matters in the city, the one person you can't kill. Complete the mission, you get time off your prison sentence. Fail the mission, you die. Anything happens to Colonel Flag, I'll kill every single one of you. Remember, I'm watching. I see everything.” Waller ends the communication and Flag turns to Deadshot

There's your pep talk.”

“Compared to your shit, she killed it. So that's it? What, we some kind of Suicide Squad?” He asks, Flag ignores his question and leaves.

“I'll notify your next of kin. Alpha, Bravo team. Mount up!” He orders, you look around to the team you’ll be forced to work with. All of them, criminals in their own right, but for now they’re the thing between success, or all of you dying painful deaths. You put on your helmet and the detective mode still works, turning it off. You load your guns and walk to the helicopter.

Task Force X, has been activated.

#male reader #harley quinn #harley quinzel #harley x reader #harley quinn x reader #harley quinn x male reader #suicide squad #dc #dc comics #Ornii #angst #we simp

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zombee · 7 months

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I feel like the luckiest Our Flag Means Death fan in the world after the season 2 finale. By a series of incredible circumstances - including a significant metatextual realization that came in at the 11th hour - it was close to perfect for me.

This essay has everything. Completely normal behavior over a television series. Steven Universe references. The David Jenkins School of Whatever is Best for the Bit. Humbling catharsis.

First: this piece does not exist with the central thesis of “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad.” I feel like thousands of words have already been written on this since Thursday, so I’m going to try to not get too in depth on that.

Second, cards on the table, because it’s relevant and I don’t want to waste your time if this is going to sour your ability to hear me out: I’m an Izzy Canyon hater. For MANY reasons, but from way before the concept of the Canyon existed, (some) Izzy fans pinged me in the same way as Snape/Kylo Ren fans did, and before May 2022 was over I went from genuinely enjoying Izzy’s character and place in the narrative to hating him because his fans made it impossible for me to enjoy him anymore.

(SOME! of his fans. Please don’t keep making me say this, although I’m not going to talk about the Canyon directly anymore after this. I know there are a ton of normal Izzy Enjoyers and even Canyonites, I am literally friends with many of them, please take this all in the good faith it’s intended and if you’re not One Of The Bad Ones then you’re fine! I very carefully don’t go anti-Izzy on main, and when I stopped enjoying his character, I stopped writing him into fics. I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want to be honest. Anyway.)

The season 2 finale made me weep over Izzy Goddamn hands.

ALL season long, I was disgruntled. All season long. I really, truly, DEEPLY appreciated what they were doing with his character and arc, I thought it was wildly on brand for the themes of community/queerness in the show, I saw the vision, I liked it!!! But. I wanted a fucking apology, yall. I needed three seconds of “sorry I called you a slur, Ed :/” and that would have been enough. But I had to let it go. It was poisoning my enjoyment of the whole season, which I loved with very little exception (not none!) and I just had to let it go. I wasn’t getting an apology. That didn’t negate what they were doing with his character.

Yall. They withheld the apology on purpose.

THIS FUCKING SHOW!!!

Let’s go back a bit. I was at the episode 6 + 7 screening, and the breakup shook me. Probably a LOT more than if I had watched it alone in bed at 3am on my laptop - five days of no sleep after NYCC, lots of emotions, seeing it on a big screen with a hundred other intense fans, etc etc - but I did see other folks reacting in parallel ways to me when the episodes aired to the regular public, so maybe I would have felt the same way. Regardless, I was mad at Stede and to a lesser extent Ed. I NEEDED AN APOLOGY FOR THAT FISH LINE. I needed it! “Whativah” autocorrects to “WHATIVAH” in my phone. I was going through it.

(When I rewatched the episode when it aired it was not nearly as bad as I remember, lol)

So now the episode 8 screeners go out and the reviews drop and I think I catch one half-glimpse of a “What a heartbreaking ending!” kind of snippet, and some of my friends who are spoiler fiends unintentionally drop little hints about similar ideas (devastating/heartbreaking/split the fandom) type shit.

And I was a fucking WRECK! about it.

I do love this whole show with my whole chest. I do!!! But I’m not rotted because this is an excellent television show, I’m rotted because two old men kiss each other! On the MOUTH!!! in an excellent television show. You get it, right? I’ve written 700,000 words across almost 100 fics and 98% of them are dedicated to those two men falling in love in different universes.

So it just did not even occur to me the “heartbreak/devastation/fandom split” would be about anything but Gentlebeard.

Another piece of this that was fucking me up - David Jenkins and his “satisfactory” ending biz. My brain was reacting like this show was ENDING ending, even if I knew logically! that this is just season 2!!! And I wasn’t ready for that, because what if it wasn’t personally satisfying, and I’m a mess about it? Why was I so worried about not liking it? I’d liked the whole season! Even if they didn’t nail the landing I wasn’t going to stop writing fic or hanging out with my pirate community & friends.

…is what I kept trying to tell myself, but the way anxiety disorders work is funny like that lol. What if I did stop writing fic and hanging out in pirate spaces? That would hurt much more than a show I like disappointing me. And for anyone who’s having that experience with ofmd s2, I’m so very, very sorry. It sucks and that’s where my epiphany came from on Wednesday before the finale.

Because it has happened to me before.

I flit from hyperfocus to hyperfocus, as ya do when you’re spicy, but the last thing to get its hooks in me PROPERLY like pirates was Steven Universe. And I did NOT like the way the regular season ended!!! (I actually really did like most of Future; that’s not what I mean. I mean season 5). I don’t like how they handled the Diamonds, tldr; I think the scope of their villainy got too out of hand, and I was left grieving the thing that had meant enough to me I ran a fan convention for four years based around it.

Side note: imagine if I had channeled the hyperfocus of almost a million words of fanfiction into an American OFMD con instead. We could have made magic :( I did consult with Our Con Means Death though so I am at least a teeny tiny bit of that one!

I did not like the way Steven ended… but I do respect the story they were telling and think they told it well.

I’m still sad about it. Steven is still one of my most beloved, it will always be beautiful and great to me, but that experience did and does sully my memories. There is so, so, so, SO much more good than bad from being in that fandom, and I cherish it. And I hope, if you’re having this experience with OFMD right now, that you’ll find similar comfort.

But, like I said at the top, “it’s okay to not like something but that’s not the same thing as it being bad” has been belabored already by people better at writing about it than me. I just had the incredible privilege to remember my brush with lower case T trauma and having that experience in my last REALLY big deal fandom. That’s why I had been so extra anxious about being disappointed. Because it happened to me before. It helped so much to connect those two.

So the finale happens, and it’s actually about twelve hours of me going from “eh, rushed but fun, whole season was great” to “THIS MAYBE IS THE BEST SHOW OF ALL TIME, ACTUALLY!”

BECAUSE THIS SHOW MADE ME CRY OVER IZZY FUCKING HANDS!!!!

They literally told me this was the story they were telling this season. “Men can change” “The end of piracy” “Ed leaving Blackbeard behind (ish).”

As for me? I didn’t get an apology for the fish. Instead, I got “Sorry I was a dick.” “You weren’t a dick. Life’s a dick.”

Just… fuckity BAM. THREE FUCKING SENTENCES resolving that fight. Saying so much in so little.

In real life, should these two men have an actual conversation about this shit? Sure!!! But that’s not how OFMD tells its stories!

It works in symbolism. It works in vibes. It works in an hour’s worth of content into each half-hour episode, and for how much lamenting I have done about the pacing, I would prefer that 100x to having to stretch it out too much.

I have said since March 24, 2022 that OFMD wields anachronism as a weapon. First and foremost, it’s fucking funny, but in addition to that, it’s stating clearly: “This is a fantasy world. This is not real history. This show is about romance (and so much more than that), and the rest is just VIBES!!!”

Sometimes vibes can be historical accuracy. Sometimes vibes can be true emotional poignancy. Sometimes vibes can be Ed finding his sunken leathers in the sea, changing underwater somehow, and coming out of the ocean like the Birth of Fucking Venus, because water and rebirth and mermaids and shit is all very prominent this season. And ALSO, and this is very important! BECAUSE IT LOOKS FUCKING COOL!

I don’t want to do much real Izzy meta here. It’s been said by others, and better than me. But it was telegraphed and it was symbolic – he was the paragon of Traditional Piracy in season 1, for goodness’ sake, and Traditional Piracy is Toxic Masculinity, and he was a part of Blackbeard and Ed had to leave Blackbeard behind (yknow, ish), and he got this ABSOLUTLEY FUCKING LOVELY! storyline about appreciating what a (queer) community can do, and god fucking shit fucking dammit… most of all, best of all (for me), was Buttons landing on Izzy’s grave at the end. Men can change. And Izzy DID!!! He did it for Ed. For love. For community. I am puzzled by “it’s fucked up to use Izzy to further Ed’s storyline” because… this was Ed’s season, in the way that season 1 was Stede’s. And Ed cannot be removed from piracy as a whole (neither can Stede!) so to have this old, set in his ways, coded-queerphobic character blossom to the point he can give this gift to Ed and to piracy… idk man. I just find it so fucking beautiful.

It is okay not to like what they did. It’s okay!!! It’s okay, and it’s okay to mourn, and while it’s not okay to do [insert vile behavior here], it’s okay to carefully examine what you think is “bad writing” vs “what you would have preferred to happen” and give good-faith, textually-based criticism on that.

But I want to remind you over and over and over again, this show works on vibes. It tells its stories leaving many, many, many gaps. There are many things I would have liked to see, and y’know what? I would have told the Izzy story differently. I would have personally done it differently. But it’s not my show! It’s not my show, and I am humbled and delighted to remember that, and to appreciate Our Flag Means Death for what it is and not what it isn’t.

Other words have been written better than I could about the 18 months between seasons 1 and 2 and what that does to us as rabid fans with expectations of how things will go. Millions and millions and millions of words have been written about OFMD, fictional and non, and that is going to color our expectations and experience. We had built it up SO MUCH in our minds and along the way I think some of us forgot (INCLUDING ME!!!) that it is first and foremost about Vibes.

The vibes of Izzy’s death are about rebirth and forgiveness and leaving traditional piracy behind. And he got to die in Ed’s arms, knowing (HAPPILY!) that he had been wrong, and giving Ed the gift of letting him know he is loved, and being a part of something. We had a funeral but we also had a wedding. The only constant is change. Men, piracy, Blackbeard; it all changes. And Izzy found peace in that.

Before my last point, I want to @ myself on things I felt versus realizing in the end it is (I will say it until I’m blue in the face) about vibes.

· I was convinced they left Buttons’ transformation ambiguous because they wanted to leave room for it not having been real. NO!!! It is real, until they decided it isn’t. Magic in the OFMD universe? Fucking why not!!! IT’S SYMBOLIC!!! IT’S IMPORTANT TO ED’S STORYLINE AND THE CENTRAL THESES OF THE SHOW!

· I was unhappy, and still am a little, about the Polycule Situation, but now that I realize Oluwande is Zheng’s Stede… I am less so. The Zheng : Auntie :: Ed : Izzy vibes, btw? Fuckin immaculate.

· Obviously they touched on Stede/Ed’s “killing people trauma” but I’d reallyyyy like Stede to address it, and even though I think Ed’s is left on a very satisfying note, I’d like him to dip a bit more into it as well. But if they don’t, oh well! It’s not like they ignored it, they just didn’t have a Deep Dive like I Wanted Them To!

· They didn’t deal with Ed throwing Stede’s shit away. They just ignored it! Stede started to collect new trinkets, and I believe that was as much about giving the audience back the old feeling of the Revenge as it was anything important (not to say it wasn’t also important thematically!!!). Just like Ed going back to his leathers is both Extremely Important thematically and about putting Taika back in the leathers because that’s what Blackbeard should be wearing for the epic final scenes for the sake of visually keeping the show consistent. That’s Blackbeard’s uniform.

· Stede’s frilly little outfits my beloved. God I hope they give him back some of his frippery in season 3. I think they will re: cursed suit BUT his journey this season was about something else, so!

· Ed’s stupid little non-profit non-apology, oh my god. It was so funny. And there is a transition from eps 5 to 6 where Ed is back in his leathers and the crew is more comfortable around him. They didn’t have to have him do a Real Apology, it’s implied it was all settled. What was the timeline? A day? DOESN’T MATTER, BABY, VIBES!!!

· Lots more, I’m sure, but now that I’ve tried to let it all go, I’m remembering less of what I wanted and appreciating what I got!

And, last point here, I think it is also very very very important to remember that a lot of people are normal about this show. In fact, WAY more people are normal about this show than aren’t. And that is EXTREMELY! IMPORTANT!!! because otherwise it wouldn’t be profitable and we all know what would happen then. We are the core of it, to be sure. Without word of mouth that stems from our intensity, this show would not be NEARLY as successful as it is. I truly, truly believe that.

But.

Do normies need deeply emotional discussions dissecting the central relationships? No. What normies need is Ed and Stede running dramatically toward each other on the beach and kissing. And I am happy, so fucking happy, to realize that’s what I need too. I’ve got fanworks for the rest.

I love this fucking show and this fucking fandom and its fucking creators so much. Fuck.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2

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sage-lights · 3 months

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spinning out, waiting for you to pull me in

“Hey,” Amanda's voice quivers. She physically can't look Angela in the eyes when she greets her. Fuck, this shouldn’t be happening right now. The day has barely started and Amanda already feels like running away from everyone.

Angela looks at her skeptically, “I would say ‘Good morning,’ but you look like yours has been pretty terrible already. Everything okay?”

Amanda collects herself enough to muster a sort-of smile and shrugs. She watches as Angela furrows her brows, contemplating something. Before Amanda can insist that it’s no big deal, she feels herself getting tugged towards the back of the office and led between the costume racks.

“Spill. What’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing, honestly,” God, Amanda feels like she’s a teenager again. It’s stupid that she’s this upset about it.

Angela scoffs and rolls her eyes, “Oh, come on, Amanda. Don’t give me that bullshit. We both know something is wrong,” her tone softens once she sees Amanda’s eyes start to become glassy, “It’s not stupid to be upset.”

She laughs a little, “How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”

“Because I know you. And I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I appreciate you checking in, Ang,” Amanda sighs, “But I really shouldn’t be getting into it at work.”

“I know we’re coworkers, but we’re friends too, right? It’s fine if you really don’t want to talk about it, but I’m here for you,” she grabs Amanda’s hands and gives them a gentle squeeze. That simple gesture was enough to break down the final brick of Amanda's wall, and suddenly, everything came spilling out.

Two nights ago, she had gotten a call from Ian telling her that she didn’t need to come in for work the next morning, which Angela already knew, seeing as she was the one filling in for Amanda yesterday.

What Angela didn’t know, however, was how Amanda’s jaw tightened when she saw the close friends stories of her coworkers, her friends, having fun while she wasn't there. How she had to stop herself from spiraling as she rewatched the videos over and over again. How disappointed she felt in herself for letting this affect her.

Angela lets go of her hands. Amanda’s heart drops for a moment, thinking that she’s overstepped boundaries and came off immature, until she feels Angela hug her.

“We missed you too, you know?” Angela leans away slightly to look up at Amanda, arms remaining around her waist.

"I hate that I'm feeling this way. It feels so high school of me to be sad about my friends hanging out without me. And it's not even like you all planned to see each other! This is our job and," Amanda bites her lip, hesitant to admit, "I guess the kid in me remembers what it was like to get excluded from things. For the longest time, I was convinced it was a me problem. Maybe I never got over that."

"I get it, but you're right. It's a job where none of us have control over who's scheduled on any given day. It's not just a regular hang out between friends. Because if it was, I want you to believe me when I say we'd want you around every single time."

This time, Amanda is the one that pulls Angela into an embrace, "What would I do without you, Angela?"

"Probably cry alone in the gender-neutral bathroom." Angela laughs.

Amanda has to admit, Smosh is a pretty sweet gig. After all, it brought Angela into her life.

-----

word count: 587

title from: "satellite" by harry styles i think it's literally been 4 years since i wrote fanfic but! i woke up with such bad amangela brain rot this morning that the thought of them is actually making me ill right now. i wrote this ficlet at 8am in class on the doc i use for taking notes, so it's not my best writing...yeah! hope you enjoyed it!

#amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #amangela #smosh rpf #smoshblr #smosh fanfiction

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phantomsalamander · 27 days

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Flower Husbands analysis rant bc I need to get this off my chest

DISCLAIMER: I am a die-hard FH shipper, just here to explain my reasoning. I’m not here to debate: if you disagree with me, feel free to read through, but I really don’t want hate right now, thanks :)

I’m not exactly sure where to start with this, haha. I’ve basically been seeing lots of “flower husbands is toxic” posts lately, and I kinda just wanted to put out my thoughts.

The most important thing is this: at the end of the day, there are just two people behind the screen having fun, and anything they say or do doesn’t run that deep. So (not talking about RPF here to be clear) when two lil gays meet in a Minecraft hunger games and want to get married, great! Love it! Totally not gonna brain rot over them at all (lie)! Basically, it’s really not something worth fighting over.

A point I’ve seen come up a lot is that Scott looks down on Jimmy, but I really don’t see that a lot? Rewatching third life both Scott and Jimmy seem to respect the other equally, and sure Scott teases Jimmy sometimes about slip-ups or mistakes, but Jimmy never seems to mind at all, and why can’t a married couple poke fun at the other sometimes? Scott never means it in a mean way.

And like- Scott literally made a grave for Jimmy when he died! He was so distraught he was one of the first players to perma-die, even though in all other seasons he was one of the finalists! He obviously cared about Jimmy enough for it to affect his playing.

I think that’s it lol 😅, my shipping for them doesn’t go much deeper than that they’re silly little sun-and-moon motif guys who are really cute together (and are very similar to my strange situationship thingy I have going on were we refer to each other as each other’s flower husbands but that’s beside the point-)

#vent post #rant post #I did not read this over after I wrote it so it probably sounds very strange #flower husbands #jimmy solidarity #scott smajor #life series #trafficshipping #traffic life #trafficblr #moth’s posts #the end jesus christ

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latenightsimping · 2 years

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Under the bleachers

Summary: Pep rallies are neither you nor Eddie’s kinda scene. But you both have a deviant idea to make these occasions a little more interesting.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Words: 1,255

Warnings: Minors DNI i’m for real bruh, smut, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibitionism, semi-public sex, grinding, swearing, mentions of bondage, mentions of other sexual acts, ring kink if you squint, reader has a vagina, use of femme pronouns, absolute filth (this is set before the events of 24 so it’s spoiler free)

AN: It’s nearly 3am but I can’t get the thought of this outta my head. Started rewatching s4 and got to that pep rally and was starting to think very sinful thoughts. Anyway, hope you enjoy! This isn’t beta read but I hope there isn’t any too many glaring mistakes.

You could hear it all under your spot under the bleachers; clapping and cheering, stomping of feet that caused dust to dislodge and speckle your hair. The near deafening instruments of the band, all forming into one continuous pandemonium that was a pep rally.

But you could focus on nothing other than the feeling of teeth scraping against your neck, and the fingers buried deep in your pussy.

You’d often enjoyed some exhibitionism with Eddie when you fooled around. In the back of his van in a car park after a gig, him rutting into you from behind while you were on your hands and knees with his fingers twisted through your hair. The rotting wood of the bench in the forest digging through the thin fabric of your skirt as he fucked you into oblivion with a firm grip on your hips. You knew that if someone looked at just the right angle, looking down at just the right moment, they would see you straddled over his lap and your fucked out face looking right back at them, panties pushed aside and skirt bunched up at your waist.

“Fuck,” you cursed softly, worrying your lower lip with your teeth as you rolled your hips against his ministrations. At this angle, you could feel the cool silvers of his rings rub at your clit, sending sparks of pleasure straight up your spine. “Right there Eddie, fuck, please don’t stop.”

“Wasn’t planning on it sweetheart,” he murmured into the shell of your ear, curling his fingers and pulling a desperate mewl from your lips. “Not when you’re making such beautiful little sounds for me.”

You were getting desperate to come, and the small part of your mind that still had some common sense was thankful that the commotion was covering up the lewd sounds that he was wringing out of you. Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration, eyes squeezed shut as you felt his sloppy kisses in that spot just below your ear that he knew would throw you even further towards the finish line of release. You whimpered as you grabbed fistfuls of his Hellfire shirt, desperate to cling onto anything as you began to reach your peak. “I’m so close Eddie, please don’t stop, pleeeeease.”

He audibly groaned at your begging, and you could feel his pace quicken, hand shifting slightly so the pad of his thumb drew tight circles around your clit. “I can feel you baby, so fucking tight.” He hissed the last word, head coming up to press a sloppy kiss to your lips, voice muffled by them as he spoke. “Come for me, be a good girl and come on my fingers.”

Eddie had come to know just how to get you off in the most efficient way possible. Knew that under the exterior of good grades and shyness, you were into the filthy talk and exhibitionism that he was more than willing to provide. He felt your hips stutter as you let out a loud moan, swallowing it down in an open mouthed kiss to try and muffle it in case anyone heard. He could feel how painfully hard he was underneath his tight jeans, and the small amount of friction that he got of your ass occasionally rutting into his crotch wasn’t enough to make him come undone. But he already had thoughts of what he was going to do to you later. And it involved his handcuffs around your wrists as he fucked you mercilessly into his mattress.

You crashed headlong into your orgasm, his skillful fingers drawing it out as your eyes rolled back behind closed lids and your knees clamping down around his thighs. You heard him mutter a “that’s my girl,” somewhere in the electrified haze that was your mind, arching your back as much as you could into his other hand that was pressed into the small of your back. You came so hard you nearly bucked right off his lap, but he held you fast as he carefully slowed his tempo until only the small aftershocks of overstimulation remained. You let out a hard sigh of contentment, opening your eyes to look down at him only to find his lopsided grin and his beautiful dark eyes scanning your face.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful when you come, you know that?” he beamed as his fingers left your pussy, and you bit back a whine at the loss of fullness. You watched with wide eyes as he bought his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them whilst never breaking eye contact. You bit your lip hard at the sight, and you swore you could orgasm for a second time just watching him enjoy the taste of you as his tongue lapped up every drop. He sucked on the tip of his middle finger last, pulling it out with a lewd popping sound as his hands settled on your waist. “Taste so good, too. Can’t wait to get my mouth on you later.”

You giggled, cheeks tinting pink as you settled yourself against his chest with your arms looped around his neck. His arms coiled around your back and pulled you closer to him, a hand coming up to stroke the back of your neck. The music and cheers of the crowd died down, and the voice of Jason Carver could be heard talking about something you really couldn’t give a shit about. You made a disgusted face at the thought of him, but it left your face as soon as you looked up to Eddie, replaced with a countenance of pure adoration. “Sure you can’t ditch Hellfire club and make that a reality sooner?” you whispered, mindful to be quiet now somebody could possibly hear you. You batted your lashes at him, flashing him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could muster as your bottom lip jutted out into a pout.

A chuckle rumbled his chest as he dipped his head down to peck a kiss onto your forehead. “As tempting as that is sweetheart, I think the boys would crucify me if I cancelled a game.” He was keeping his voice low too, giving it that husky timbre that made your knees weak. “But we’ve got all night to ourselves as my place. Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you as soon as I get home.”

You smiled as you leaned up to capture his lips in yours, the tang of yourself mixed with the familiar one of cigarettes and gum that you never tired of tasting. You let yourself relax into him, head on his chest and enjoying how his fingertips stroked your spine to calm you in the afterglow. You could feel how hard he was as it pressed into your core, and you rolled your hips a little to tease him. You heard the sharp intake of breath, and could feel the smirk erupting on his lips that were pressed into the crown of your head. “Minx,” you heard him whisper, and you suppressed a laugh as you did it again.

“Me? Never.”

You knew you had to wait until everyone had left the gym so you both could sprint to your first class, but while you were here, you were happy to just enjoy the time with him. You could do without that prick Carver’s speech, but you could happily ignore it as long as he kept his arms around you.

And knowing Eddie, he had no intentions of letting you go until he absolutely had to.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine

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nonsosinceramente · 6 months

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just random thoughts as i rewatch

taigen was already simping after being given a whole bald spot… “the cut is so clean”?? “a masterful cut”?? a bi disaster waiting to happen fr

and the way he was hanging off every single word coming out of akemi’s mouth after being disgraced?? this man just wants to be praised

akemi has such a way with words honestly … a force to be reckoned with, love her to bits

taigen hates the smell of fish but he’s okay with eating it

got his ass handed to him twice and he was still talking mad shit he’s so stupid just a whole chatterbox

he overcame his father but got stuck in the comparison game and delusions of grandeur and now the only thing to show for it is that bald spot… just miserable

taigen’s dad when I catch you taigen’s dad ! when i catch you taigen’s dad when i catch you!!!!

i know mizu after hearing taigen talk about this dumb duel was like girl you talk too much don’t you know i could kill you with my eyes closed???

mizu died like forty times through all of this she should have rested for a year honestly

kinuyo my baby… i’ll never forget you love

the way men back then took sex as performance from women whether in a brothel or the deepest confines of the Keicho Keep, lame BORES!! y’all suck !!!

I wonder if Taigen is sort of a passive participant in sex… I feel like he was with Akemi (the way he was looking at her when she initiated??? hooked!!) but Akemi is special so who knows

taigen to mizu prolly: you’re fr so good i had a boner fighting you i guess that counts for something

mizu nekkie heart sutra covered smelting a lot of meaningful steel scene was so good bless my baby

akemi’s dad better rot somewhere forever

i wonder if akemi will come to care for takayoshi ito or if she’ll just use him after the whole ‘i wanna be great’ epiphany she had (kinda like them a lil ngl)

“Did you?” shaking in my boots

Swordfather’s face when Ringo told him she didn’t come back? i’m gonna fight

Ringo, love, you better get Mizu’s ass when she returns cuz wtf

To London without her sword, no backup and in the midst of millions of white men and this extremely cunning one you brought along… just a battle waiting to be lost she’s gonna about to die fifty thousand times, but good luck to her!!

fowler is such a good villain idc idc i hate him but wow and kenneth branagh!!!! i love that man

#i wanna keep these random musings somewhere #blue eye samurai

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guiltygearconfessions · 7 months

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i NEED sol’s hatred and asuka’s guilt to be explored more than they were. strive’s story mode was so fucking disappointing for that. there was so much potential there. it’s been a while since i’ve rewatched strive’s story but i know they missed out on so much. asuka’s guilt is shown a LITTLE BIT in his arcade mode but not NEARLY ENOUGH. i want to see him rotting in guilt. i want to see sol finally get to like beat the crap out of him. i want to see them both STRUGGLE WITH THAT when they see each other. i want to see the tension between them when they’re in the same room as one another. i want there to be a fight or a struggle or SOMETHING. literally anything. sol should get to have a conclusion. i want them both to take TIME to get to a point where they can speak to each other again, even on the most basic of terms. i want them (mostly asuka) to actually have to WORK on themselves and reflect before being all buddy-buddy.

guilty gear is very much a series that shows that seeking revenge is pointless and only leads to hurting yourself. i see that, i acknowledge that, and i think that’s awesome. it’s part of how cool GG is. so YES, i think sol should let go of getting ‘revenge,’ but he NEEDS some sort of closure (not the closure given in strive that does not count to me). like please let him punch asuka or something idk. they both deserve that much.

as someone who loves both of these characters, i NEED THEM TO SUFFER. i need them to STRUGGLE!!! their relationship could have been explored so much better than it was. the conclusion just felt so rushed. (again, mostly with asuka. i Do Not like what they did with him in strive. but Augh that is a whole other rant that i’m pretty sure other people have already gone on.)

am i making sense right now?? I DON’T KNOW!! it’s late and i am tired and running on barely any sleep to begin with. but i thought about this for too long and i needed to yell about it somewhere. sorry for the word vomit bros 🫡

#confessions #sol badguy #asuka r kreutz #guilty gear

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ahoyyhoy · 1 year

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Some Dinbo thoughts:

I’m rewatching Season 2’s episode ‘The Heiress’ where Bo-Katan is introduced into Din’s story and there are so many subtle hints between the two of them. She is quick to pull him out of the water: “take my hand”, Bo saves her boy Din right from the get go. And she seems instantly intrigued or interested (or maybe attracted?) in him. There is already tension between then. Yeah she wants to use his help to get what she wants but she also doesn’t mind him being around.

She knows he’s going to leave them once he helps her, and she is quick to try to get him to stay with her. When she finally gives him intel on Ahsoka and he leaves she lingers in staring, watching him go.

Also the frog lady and man were so cute. But was it subtle foreshadowing? The last of their kind doing what they can to save their species no matter what. The frog lady is red (like Bo’s hair) and the frog man is dark. Idk … just a thought.

Man I have Dinbo brain rot and I don’t care who knows it.

#dinbo #bo katan kryze x din djarin #din djarin x bo katan kryze #din djarin #bo katan kryze #the mandolarian #mando #din x bo katan #starwars

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acceleracers-baby · 3 months

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Acceleracers HCs! What Element Would They Bend?

I just finished the Avatar Live Action and now I have brain rot about these movies AND the original ATLA show.

———

Teku

(Nolo Pasaro, Vert Wheeler, Shirako Takamoto, Kurt Wylde, Karma Eiss)

Metal Maniacs

(Taro Kitano, Tork Maddox, Monkey McClurg, Porkchop RIggs, Markie Wylde)

+Bonus Round

(Brian Kadeem & Banjee Castillo)

———

Teku

Nolo Pasaro - Okay, when I rewatched the Acelleracers recently, I literally had to look up the voice actor for Nolo because I genuinely thought it was Dante Basco (Zuko) for a second. They sound so similar. Plus Nolo’s firey personality and his pride really make me think he’d be a Firebender. “Tork! I challenge you to an Agni Kai!”

Vert Wheeler - I feel like I don't need to say it, but I’m gonna… Vert’s a Waterbender! Water is the element of change and Vert is all about adapting to the different tracks. He’s also a surfer- so… yeah I feel like this one is pretty self-explanatory. I swear this dude would become one with the ocean if it was possible. I can’t get the image of him making a surf board out of ice and just using the full moon to make the biggest waves possible for himself.

Shirako Takamoto - Shirako is so chill all the time I can’t help but see him as an Airbender. I also feel like he’d use his bending in the most creative and chaotic ways possible like manipulating the air around his speakers to make them sound louder or clearer. Not to mention that he’d use his bending to mildly annoy the Metal Maniacs. Think blowing their tools just slightly out of reach or speeding by them on an air scooter.

Kurt Wylde - Kurt has such strong Firebending vibes that it literally inspired this post lol. He just seems like such a hothead. He’s got the sass and air of superiority that comes with most Firebenders. It doesn't help that he and Mark have a sibling rivalry that reminds me of Zuko & Azula. Kurt also seems like he’d be able to manipulate lightning, and I’m not just saying that cause he looks like Mako.

Karma Eiss - Karma also gives off Firebending vibes. Her drive for perfection fits the precision a Firebender needs in order to safely manipulate their element. One wrong move and it could mean trouble. Karma would have her element fully mastered. She would have the wisdom to take skills from other bending disciplines and apply them to her own style. She can bend both fire and lightning, and I feel like she’d be skilled enough to turn up the heat for those blue flames!

———

Metal Maniacs

Taro Kitano - Oh, look at that. Another Firebender. I mean come on! He’s the leader of the Scorchers in World Race. His car has a classic flame paint job!! The Fire Nation was literally modeled after Imperial Japan!! There are so many connections I could make here, but what really convinces me is his overall attitude. He follows a strict honor code, and just like Karma, he’s got the control a Firebender needs to be successful. I feel like he’d make a great Lavabender too.

Tork Maddox - I’m getting strong Earthbender vibes from Tork. He’s built as sturdy as a rock, and his personality is just as solid. He stands his ground a lot in the Acceleracer movies, and although he’s got some fire behind his eyes, it’s usually only in response to being antagonized by one of the other racers. He’s the very foundation of the Metal Maniacs and like any good Earthbender, he seems to listen before he reacts. I also love the idea of Tork being a Metalbender.

Monkey McClurg - Monkey strikes me as a Nonbender, but if I had to give him an element, he would be an Earthbender. Mainly because I feel like he could make a great Metalbender. That being said, at my core, I really think he would end up not being able to bend, but he would make up for it by being an extremely creative inventor. He just reminds me of Sokka so much with how resourceful he is.

Porkchop Riggs - Porkchop is a full on Earthbender, baby! In fact, If Monkey ended up not being able to bend, he’d be who Monkey goes to for all of his Metalbending needs. He is one with the dirt. Especially since he's terrified of water.

Markie Wylde - Markie is 100% a Firebender as well. Like his older brother, he’s hot-headed and cocky. He gives off those Book One Zuko vibes in most of the Acceleracer movies. I don’t think he’d have the precision to be able to produce blue flames, but I do feel like he could pick up combustion. Could you imagine Markie with combustion tattoos up his arm instead of the stuff he's got now?

———

Bonus Round

Brian Kadeem - Okay, I wanted to put Kadeem in the Earthbender category due to Sandbending, but Kadeem’s personality SCREAMS Airbender. He’s got too many pacifistic tendencies and is just so damn loveable I can’t not associate him with Aang. Not only that but due to the scenes in World Race where his mentor comes to him in visions, I feel like he would be able to connect to the Spirit World quite easily.

Banjee Castillo - Surprisingly, I feel like Banjee would be an Airbender too. If not an Airbender, then probably an Earthbender. He’s just so quick-witted and has such a lighthearted view on life that I can't help but stick him with the Airbenders. Also, the way he teases people (like when he waves at Kurt as he passes him in World Race) reminds me of when Aang is being mischievous.

——— Thanks for Reading ———

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lovesick-boyz · 9 months

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hi.

well… after being stalked and harassed for the past couple of months, i am finally back!! stay tuned lol i got some fics lined up for y’all 😁

anyway if you read that first line and thought to yourself “WTF?!?”, here is the full story for my curious readers (just a warning, it’s long and i rant a lot):

a couple of months ago, i started getting tagged by random accs on tiktok and insta that posted vids accusing me of the most random and heinous shit. honestly, it just baffled me the first time i saw them bc they made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

when the first ones popped up, i just blocked them thinking it was a random troll and went on with my life.

but then i kept getting spammed by other accs with new posts where they not only involved me but also my friends, and accused us as a friend group of being horrible ppl.

i had enough (i can’t even remember how many accs i blocked) and deleted ALL my social media apps for a while (i.e. more than a couple of months, oops) and basically isolated myself from ppl so that i could focus on other things to distract me (i ended up making daily exercise a habit so ig that’s one good thing that’s come out of this lol, i also rewatched all the marvel movies in timeline order hehe). i wish i continued writing so i could’ve at least had more content to share by now, but i was feeling so negative and pissed that i couldn’t even bring myself to write anything (i even uninstalled notion from my phone and that’s where i keep all my drafts and fic ideas)

i only found out the full situation less than a week ago when i reinstalled tiktok bc i missed it, only to find more burner accs harassing me. i finally had enough so i reinstalled insta to rant about it on my spam acc for my friends to see and to my surprise a couple of them knew who it was and explained the whole situation to me.

it was my first time interacting with ppl outside of my family in months lol, when i tell y’all i isolated myself i really did mean it 🙃 my irl friends didn’t even know anything out of the ordinary was happening bc i’m notorious in my friend group for going off the grid for months at a time bc of how bad my mental health gets sometimes, they know to just let me be and let me deal with it alone bc they understand that’s how i work best. (they won’t see this bc they don’t know this tumblr exists but i wanna apologise to my dear friends for my disappearing acts, my bad, i love y’all for being so understanding and still being my friend after all this time 🫶🏼)

anyway, it turns out the culprit was this guy that my friend had rejected previously and he’s so bitter and hateful that he decided to harass me bc he knew i was one of her bffs (the ppl he targeted were the ones in her closest friend group which included me)

but here’s the kicker: I’VE ONLY TALKED TO THIS GUY TWICE!! AND EACH TIME WE TALKED FOR LESS THAN 5 MINS ABOUT IRRELEVANT SHIT!!! WHY AM I INVOLVED?? YOU DON’T KNOW ME!!!!

youtube

when my friend found out she was so surprised and appalled that he was harassing me too, bc him, my friend, and the other ppl he targeted all go to the same college together (and i’m the only one in the friend group that goes to a different college, so to reiterate once again: this guy barely knows me! the last time we spoke was at my friends bday party 3 years ago!! he’s literally insane!)

she knew he was harassing my other friends since they’re all in the same school and know him in person, she didn’t think i would be involved too and i couldn’t believe i was.

anyway, i just wanted to rant about this whole thing bc i’m having a hard time processing it tbh. i hope that guy rots in hell and also finds a job there bc he was acting hella unemployed like who has time for this? he made me feel so confused and paranoid for weeks and i hope he gets all the karma he deserves in the universe.

y’all wanna know something funny tho? i started writing a changmin stalker fic in june, way before this whole situation happened. life imitates art ig 🤪 anyway i finally finished it and i’m gonna release that fic next after i fine tune it, at least now it’ll be somewhat realistic lmaoooo

#cupid speaks #literally the most ridiculous thing that’s ever happened to me #i went from having the most fun time in 🇵🇭 only to come back to this #i should’ve stayed at my grandma’s house that had no wifi for the rest of the summer instead 😒#anyways i’m going to sleep i’ll check back in the morning

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gennianydots · 1 year

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Sooo, I was doing my daily rewatch of Bad Buddy Episode 5 part 4/4, you know, how it be sometimes and it really got me this time for whatever reason. I was reminded of a convo I had with Abby aka @abstractelysium where she mentioned this meta and I can’t let it go. Also I have bad buddy brain rot now until forever because it’s my favorite show but hold onto your hats while I ramble.

My thoughts: *the kiss*

For Pat, the kiss is a relief, the best thing. Pat sees this boy he grew up with and is slowly falling for and he gets to kiss him like he wants to and it’s confirmation of his feelings being returned. It’s the best thing! It’s a “My crush likes me back!” happy dance, the whole lovey-dovey she-bang. It’s a thank god we finally got to kiss, I understand our tension better now, I want to be not just friends but more than friends. Pat doesn’t even think about his parents expectations when he is kissing Pran, in that moment, he’s just a boy who likes another boy. We can see this when he smiles after they stop kissing.

For Pran, the kiss is the worst, the worst possible thing that could happen to him. Yes, it’s confirmation that he still loves Pat, that this horrible crush he just cannot get over is still persistent and alive. It’s confirmation that whatever he has been holding inside (his love for Pat) is now so much harder to deal with because of their parents expectations, their faculty’s fighting at school, and now, Pat seemingly returning Pran’s feelings! For Pran, it’s the end of the world. Pat just had to go and catch feelings and make Pran’s life that much harder. But! Despite all those things, Pran lets himself enjoy the kiss and even kiss back. Why? Because, for a few seconds, he lets himself be just a boy who likes another boy. That’s why Pran kisses Pat the second time. Then, through the tears, through the anguish, and the one happy moment he lets himself have, Pran has to go. In my head, Pran has had a crush on Pat for forever and has always thought of his crush as a nuisance. What’s more is that he’s been heartbroken his whole life, because he thinks he and Pat simply cannot be together. Their parents hate each other so they need to hate each other, too, right? So Pran remembers, oh yeah, this cannot happen. A relationship like that cannot happen. It’s easier to go back to being heartbroken all over again, forgetting that it ever happened, it’s easier to ignore his feelings like he has for his whole life.

It’s like Cinderella holding on to her special night with the Prince thinking she’s never going to see him again, but because she got this magical moment she can hold onto, maybe just maybe that evening is enough to carry her through her worst days. But as we know, the Prince doesn’t forget about it and similarly, Pat doesn’t let Pran forget, he downright refuses to not annoy Pran about what transpired on the rooftop.

👨🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏾 🌃 I love these boys so much. I love Ohm and Nanon’s acting so much. Part of me wishes I had been here when it was airing but oh by gosh by golly I sure am glad I’m here now. 💜💙

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burninlovebutler · 2 years

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19 - Not Even For A Second // Forever Winter // a.b x oc

warnings: SAD SAD SAD, grief/loss, hallucinations/delusions, drug abuse/addiction, mental illness, severe medical situations/trauma, vomit, alcohol, 4k words, 18+ always mdni

⚠️ if you are/have struggled with substance abuse or hallucinations this chp may be triggering⚠️

19/? - Austin's latest break dawns the memory of why Elsie keeps a distance between her heart & his. She made a promise a long time ago that she has to keep.

see masterlist/summary for background info + chapter log

I APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT I’M ABOUT TO DO TO YOU I AM SO SO SORRY PLS DO NOT HATE ME

𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚞𝚙 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗

𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍

𝙿𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜

(not my gif, will tag creator when found)

-ELSIE-

– 4 years ago –

It had been about 2 months since the death of Austin’s father and to say he was taking it badly was an understatement. He was on the verge of flunking out of school, the only reason he was even coasting was because I took over all his course work.

He spent most of the time in his room – it was filthy. Cluttered with trash, clothes, rotting food. It was easy to know that the food would decay because he wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t eat at all. In the short time, he had dropped at least 20 pounds. He was never that bulky, fairly lanky to begin with, but now his ribs were popping out and his arms shrunk by the day.

He’d sleep all day, then be up most of the night. Or sometimes he’d sleep the entire 24 hours. The sockets around his eyes remained purple, his cheeks sullen. I barely recognized him.

Most of the time he wouldn’t shower for weeks on end and then there were some weeks where he wouldn’t even speak a word. At one point I even thought I was forgetting the sound of his voice and so started rewatching old videos of us just to hear it. Or his laugh or see his smile. God, I missed them, I missed them so fucking much. It was selfish how much I missed them.

It had been so long since I’d seen even a glimpse of the Austin I knew. He had become a ghost. Haunting our apartment with small traces of who he used to be all over, but he was no where to be found.

I was in his tiny room just trying to clean up a bit, do some laundry for him. I thought maybe a clean space might lift his spirits, or enough just to eat something, anything.

He was cocooned in a thick navy duvet, just tufts of overgrown blonde hair peaking from a small opening. I figured he was asleep since he didn't react when I came in. But when I went to grab an stale chip bag from between him and the wall, his hand weakly grabbed my wrist. I just about jumped off the ground from shock.

“Oh, I’m sorry Aus, I didn’t mean to wake you I was just trying to clean-“ He shushed me, then silently pointed behind himself. “Yeah I know, I just threw that stuff away-“ I whispered. He gestured again. “Aust I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

In a slight struggle to unravel himself from the bedding without adjusting, his frail arm held open the cover. I stayed silent eyeing the scene in front of me and what it meant, if I was understanding correctly. With the raspiest, weakest, voice he croaked out, “Please.”

Without another word I slipped into the bed behind him. We had never done anything like this before and it felt so odd. Such an intimate act, so taboo, as if it was something we shouldn’t be doing. But some part of me didn’t feel that way and my arm curled around him like it was instinct, like I knew exactly where my arm would fit. He nuzzled back into me.

His relationship with his dad was complicated. Austin hated him. He was abusive to him as a child and then was manipulative with him as an adult. He even forced him into being a business law major. Even though it wasn’t the career he wanted, he strived to make his dad proud by keeping a consistent 4.0. I think he let himself be a pawn in a feeble attempt to win over his approval, his love. One time Aust even told me that not once did his dad say he was proud of him and couldn’t even remember him ever saying I love you.

How fucked up is that? How can a parent do that to their own child?

And yet he was holed up in his room, despondent. Losing a parent is difficult enough already, but it was the possibility of ever winning him over that was the loss. It was stolen, the chance to make him proud like he strived so hard to, the sliver of hope of one day hearing those words. I think that’s what he was really mourning. He never got to hear an ‘I’m proud of you’ or even fucking ‘I love you’.

His father died without Austin ever hearing the man say I love you.

My dad left when I was younger and my relationship with my mom was distant and complex. But at least she was happy when I called and fucking said I love you.

He curled further into himself before I heard hidden sobs. There was a familiar violent twist in my chest, it might as well have set up home in my heart from how often I felt it lately. I’d never seen anyone cry as much as he did in these past 2 months. He should’ve been constantly dehydrated from the sheer amount of tears leaving his body.

I drew him closer, tightening my grip on him. This was the first time he let me hold him while he sobbed, normally isolating from me. His weak arms gripped around mine, his fingers ice cold when they dug into my skin. The wails shook his entire body. “I know.” I comforted quietly, pressing my forehead flush against his shoulder.

He brought my hand up and intertwined his fingers through the spaces between mine, triggering an automatic tense in my knuckles. This was something else we’d never done before. And yet I obliged, wrapping my digits around his fist.

Then, he snaked our coiled arms up to his face, pressing it against the back of my hand. Within seconds it was covered in salty tears. It was such a helpless feeling, all I could do was tighten my grip on his hand and pull him closer. We stayed like that for a while and it seemed as though he was starting to fall asleep.

He must’ve felt me turn to glance at the wall clock, I was going to be late for class if I didn’t leave soon. He gripped my hand and barely through returning sobs, “Please don’t go.” There was a settling conflict in me, I couldn’t skip lecture again. It was fucked up that I was even thinking about class right now, but I was already on the verge of failing between juggling both our class loads. I would flunk us both. “I know- I’m sorry,” His weeps descended further, more erratic, “But please don’t leave.”

I couldn’t go, how could I leave him like this.

“I won’t Aus, I’m here okay?” I reassured, squeezing his hand back, “I’m here.”

A sniffle, “Even if I fall asleep, don’t go. Okay?”

“I won’t, I won’t leave you. Not even for a second.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

It made me furious that his wicked, vile father turned my best friend into a husk of what he was. I hated him enough for the both of us.

I didn’t mind taking care of him, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t getting exhausting. I would never tell him that though, never let him see it. I would never quit on him.

Then one day, something flipped. He would come out, fresh haircut, clean shaven, and put together. His room was organized and spotless. Full of energy and life, he was an even better version of his old self. Grades were spiking back up and his social life bolstering. Or sometimes it was hobbies and interests, he would learn an instrument overnight. He taught himself guitar that way and by the end of the month he was actually pretty decent.

At times it was even excessive – girls and parties.

The rumbling of giggles and cheers ripped me from a rather comfortable sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I checked my phone to see it was 2 am.

What the fuck?

I wrapped my thick, tufted duvet around myself and cracked my door open, immediately repulsed at the sight in our kitchen. My old roommate Josey sitting on the counter with her brunette friend Brooke hanging off Austin’s shoulder. The laughter slowed as soon when they spotted me.

“Hey Els,” Austin’s voice deep and dripped in alcohol, “Did we wake you?”

“Hi Elsie!” Josey waved at me. I ignored her, keeping my eyes on a sloppy Austin.

“Um yeah, its 2 am and you guys are being loud as fuck.” My voice still raspy from sleep kept it from sounding too angry.

Brooke scowled at me, hooking her arm with Austin’s.

“Sorry Els! We’ll try to be quiet!” Josey bubbled. Her blonde ditzy self was just as insufferable as I remembered.

It was funny that she was sitting on my kitchen counter giggling at whatever Austin said, seeing as she barely acknowledged him when he and I first became friends - before he turned into this, whatever this was.

“Well, don’t you think it’s time you guys went home?” My gaze now narrowing in on Brooke’s scowl.

“Oh, we’re sleeping over.” She challenged in snide tone.

My glare turned up to Austin, who somehow looked both cocky and afraid of me, “Both of them?” I snapped staring directly at him, my eyes felt like lasers were shooting out of them.

“Mmmmhm!” Josey answered taking a swig of her White Claw. “Brooke suggested we have a thr–“

“They’re too drunk to get home alone.” Austin answered for her. “And I’m too drunk to get them there.”

Pure disgust swirled a pit in my gut. A pit I didn’t know I should be feeling. “I see.”

The thought of the three of them–

God, what a fucking vile thought.

Just weeks ago, he was crying in my arms and begging me to stay. Me, not them.

“Sorry, we’ll move to his room.” Brooke’s lips curled into a smirk, “Don’t worry Els, we’ll take good care of him.”

And then, the switch would flip back down. Everything he was juggling came pummeling down after about 2 weeks, sometimes a month. The excessive sleep, sloppiness, drained life all returned. Josey and Brooke conveniently disappeared. And I’d be left picking up the pieces again.

It was a constant cycle. Up then down, up then down. Like a yo-yo.

Then there was the turning point, the incident.

He was in an upswing, having just learned some niche form of woodworking. Literal planks of wood rested against our living room wall, power tools scattered all over his room. Traces of Josey draped around the house from all their make-up sleepovers.

The energy in the house had been tense, uncomfortable. Chaotic. It always ended up that way in those peaks. The yo-yo began to put a strain on us.

I was sitting at the kitchen bar reading some romance book that was trendy at the time when he walked through the front door of our apartment. A bag of leftovers in tow and his whistling filled the room, joy and excitement clear in his demeanor. “Hi Els!" He chirped, setting the leftovers on the counter.

Without a second thought or even looking up from my book I asked, “What’re you so chipper about?”

Nothing could’ve ever prepared me for what was about to come out of his mouth.

“I had lunch with my dad! I think it went really well.” His words so casual.

I froze, furrowing my brows at my book.

What?

Closing the paperback slowly, “That’s not very funny Austin.”

He scoffed, “Listen I know he sucks but it went okay.”

“Are you trying to play some sort of fucked up joke on me?”

His mood shifted, now offended.

“I know he’s been shitty before but is it really that hard to believe that he could actually want to see me?”

Squinting at him trying to pick up on any inkling of a pun, but why the fuck would he joke about this.

I glanced down to the plastic bag encasing the styrofoam container, it was from one of our favorite restaurants, Lenny’s Diner. “You really went to Lenny’s?”

“Yes Elsie, what, is that a crime?” Aggravation clearly building in him.

“You sat down at a booth and talked to your dad?” I probed, trying to get any indication of... well anything to possibly explain this.

“Fuck El, yes what the fuck is your problem?” His newly muscular arms crossing his chest.

“How long were you there?” My questions coming out faster than I could think.

“Fuck I don’t know? I think I got there around ten?” His voice edged with defense.

I glanced out the front windows, it was dark already. Then looking at a clock on the wall that verified my fear – it was 7 pm.

Nine hours.

“And you were there this whole time? Talking to him?”

“Yes?”

I slid off the tall bar stool and paced cautiously towards him.

“Please tell me you’re joking Aus.”

“Elsie what the fuck is your problem? You’re acting like having lunch is a crime.” His tone angry and rising. I didn’t think I’d ever heard him mad before, nonetheless at me.

Stepping forward, I hesitantly grasped his hands, “Austin–“

“Fucking spit it out Elsie.”

I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to rip him down from whatever cloud he was in.

“Aus – Austin your dad is dead.”

He blinked at me blankly before his gaze turned dark, ripping his hands from me. “Now you’re the one fucking with me. That’s not fucking funny.”

“Why would I joke about that? Are you feeling okay?” Going to press the back of my hand to his forehead only to have him smack my arm away from him. Never had he ever touched me like that, the aggression sent a chill through my body. Not once did I ever think he would frighten me like this. I took a nervous step back.

“I feel fucking fine, you’re the one saying fucking insane shit.”

I had no fucking clue what was happening. If he was serious, I didn’t know how he’d react to the reality. How was this happening? How do you just forget your dad is dead? How do you see your dead dad? Talk to him? For nine fucking hours?

“I-“ Then I got an idea, whether or not it was a good one, it was the only option I could think of. I quickly made my way to his room, frantically filtering through his desk drawers before finding what I was looking for.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” He demanded from the kitchen.

Returning with a pamphlet, the one from the funeral.

He stilled, the life from his face dissipated as he took the pamphlet. His skin turning as pale as the white paper. Realization flooded in his eyes, grief filling them all over again. Soon replaced by confusion and panic.

Staggering backwards, chest heaving, his breath escaping him. I just barely caught him before he fell, gently guiding him to the floor. Tears welled in his eyes. "I saw him Elsie, I swear to god I did.” A sob coming from his lips, “I talked to him.”

There was a churn in my stomach, like it had been put through a meat grinder. I wasn’t the one that hallucinated my dad, but I was just as petrified. I knew he had been doing bad, but this was something else. This was more than just mourning.

I curled my arms around him, drawing him close, “We’re gonna get through this Aus, okay? I promise.” I rested my forehead atop his fluffed curls as he wailed into my chest. I gripped the back of his shirt in my fist as if it would stave off my own cries.

“I saw him, I saw him.” He repeated again and again.

“I know.” I struggled behind weakly restrained tears, “I won’t leave you Aust, I promise. Not for a second. I’ll be right there with you the whole time.”

A 72 hour hold later, we got some answers.

I visited him every day.

Each day he was in there was sadder than the last.

The first day he was so terrified, trembling, barely speaking to me. He squeezed my hand the entire 30 minutes of visitation time.

Second day, he sat across from me sketching my face with a purple crayon. He didn’t look at me once, seemingly going off of only his memory.

“They don’t let us use pens.” Was the only thing he said that day.

The third day he was numb, laying his head atop crossed arms on the tabletop. Not a single word came from his lips, the bags under his eyes the deepest purple I'd ever seen one someone's face. My guess was that he probably didn't sleep a single night the entire hold.

It was excruciating to see him in there, to see him like that. Every time I looked him it gutted me, made me worried and furious and helpless all over again. My cheerful, gentle, soft Austin was now just a shell. When I looked into his once bright sapphire eyes, I couldn’t find him anymore.

We found out many things from this little getaway. Mainly that some severe disorders ran his family and the major event of his dad must’ve triggered them. The doctors said it probably would’ve happened eventually. They knew the conditions that trended in his family, but they didn’t know just yet which ones he had inherited. There were so many that were thrown around, but the main two – Bipolar and Schizophrenia.

The yo-yo was just symptoms of vicious bipolar cycling - mania then depression, mania then depression, again and again. Then things I didn't think anything of - his forgetfulness, misplacing things and the things he didn't tell me, seeing or hearing things that weren't there, all symptoms of the latter. The tentative diagnosis explained it, all of it.

I brought him home and we worked on getting him steady again.

He started his meds.

He was better for a while.

But before I could fully catch my breath from the event, something else entirely reared an ugly head.

Josey – who he was unfortunately still seeing, called me in absolute hysterics. “It’s Austin – you have to get here now. I don’t know what’s going on.” I could barely understand what she was saying through her panicked sobs, “I don’t know what the fuck to do Elsie, I’m freaking out. I’m so fucking scared.”

When I found him, he was curled up on her bathroom floor, covered in his own vomit, barely breathing.

"Fuck Austin." Immediately kneeled down next to him, picking up his lulled face into my hands. He looked dead, his skin such a pale yellow, his eyes glossed and rolled into his skull, lips chapped and purple. "What the fuck happened!" Anger and panic seared through every nerve in my body.

"I-I don't know." Shuttered a visibly scared Josey, "He just- He just kept taking shots and- kept taking bars."

"Bars?" Furrowing my brows at her, "What the fuck is that?"

"You know," Her shoulders pulled up into a shrug from the arms wrapped around her body, "Like Xanax bars?"

"Xanax! How many did you let him fucking take Josey?" I'd never heard my voice so furious before. Josey backed into a corner shaking her head as to tell me she didn't have an answer.

I returned my focus to him, “Fuck Austin, please.” I whispered like it was just us two in the room, clutching his hand so hard I probably could’ve snapped his bones. I pressed my ear to his chest and my fingers to his neck to check his pulse. It was slowing down and it was slowing down fast. I started rotating between erratically shaking his limp body, patting his cheeks, peeling open his rolled back eyes and checking his weakening heart rate. It felt like years passing waiting to hear the ambulance sirens.

Squeezing his hand pulling it into my stomach as I doubled over, “Please don’t fucking go." Laying my forehead on his chest, sobbing against him, "You can’t leave me like this.”

Begging over and over,

"Austin please" "Don't leave me." "Please just hold on." "Just a little longer." "Please don't fucking leave." "I need you here." "Aus please." "You can't leave like this."

Everyone at the party just stood there watching, like it was some sort of fucked up performance. Doing nothing, nobody was doing anything. Not even Josey was nowhere near him, still petrified in the corner. No one had even called 911 until I got there because they were too worried that they'd get in trouble. People with even less of a fuck filtered out leaving without a single care. Including Brooke.

Just seconds before paramedics arrived, his body began violently convulsing. Followed by most disgusting, struggled gurgles from purple lips as he choked on his own foamed vomit.

It was easily the most horrifying, heart wrenching thing I had ever witnessed. Something I would never be able to unsee, a core scene that was now permanently etched into my mind like a tattoo. Every single memory of us played in my head, terrified that those would be the last ones I'd have, that we’d never be able to make any more.

I was forcefully hauled away from him as the paramedics started doing any and everything to halt his overdose. As soon as I was allowed back to him, my hand never left his. Everything unfolded in slow motion, I couldn’t hear a single word the EMTs spoke. All I could hear were wheels dragging across long carpeted hallways, the dings of the elevator. The metal clicks of the stretcher being shoved into the emergency vehicle. Every slow beep of the heart monitor rang like a screech through the night, jarring like nails on a chalkboard.

I never left him - through every room, down the elevator, the entire ambulance ride until he was finally taken into the crisis unit at the hospital.

Alone. I paced the halls of the freezing hospital alone. No one else there for him. Not Josey, not Brooke. Not even his own mother who never answered my thousand calls and texts.

Just me, only me.

This landed him in another 72 hour hold, this time in a rehab facility.

I felt so senseless, so guilty – I hadn’t even noticed a change in his behavior. How could I have not noticed? But how could I have suspected he was abusing his medications, the plethora of drugs his doctor had prescribed him.

A pill for the depression, a pill for focus, a pill for anxiety, several mood stabilizers, sleep aids, anti-psychotics for the hallucinations. There were too many to count.

Austin had never even exhibited any signs of having an addictive personality. Not even with alcohol. How was I supposed to know? How could I have fucking known.

I should've paid more attention. But I was so tied up with the pit Josey and Brooke planted in my stomach that it obstructed me from looking too close. I was distracted by my own selfish feelings that I missed it. I somehow didn't catch my other half spinning out into addiction.

Between the mourning, the psychotic break, and the pills – it all changed him. He was never the same after it. Lapses in meds and relapses cycled. Over time they slowed down and pieces of him started to come back, but he wasn’t whole. Like a chunk of him had been stolen and he couldn’t find it.

When things were bad, he terrified me. Unmedicated he only got worse. Cycling through mania and depression. Impulsive, then despondent. Misplacing objects, forgetting things – repeating something over and over. The most chilling ones were when he’d see or hear things that weren’t there. Even scarier than that was when he'd start to get used to them, talking to them.

Overly medicated wasn’t a picnic either. It was extremes or nothing, depending on what he was taking. Though it was only ever pills, uppers or downers, sometimes both.

Whether it was a non-medicated Austin or an overly medicated Austin, they were both versions of him I didn’t recognize. Never did I ever think that there would be times that I would be scared of my Aus. The one that wouldn't hurt a fly, the one that would hand homeless people his last dollar bill, the one that would volunteer at shelters during the holidays, the one that got teary-eyed at baby animal videos.

What frightened me the most was the thought of losing him, one way or another. That one day it would be too much, and I wouldn’t be able to save him.

It was soon after his overdose that I realized couldn’t be any closer to him than this, that we could never be more than this. As a friend I could be constant, no complications. I could be there through the relationships, the fuck buddies, the parties, the heartbreaks, the cycling, the relapses. If I went to the parties and got drunk with him and made friends with his annoying girlfriends, I could always be there.

It didn’t matter what I wanted or what I thought I felt. I needed to be just far enough away from him to not be clouded by anything else. Not again, I could never let it happen again. I couldn’t risk fucking us up, ruining us. I couldn't risk having to leave. I couldn't risk losing him.

I couldn't be the liability.

I made him a promise, I’d never leave him. Not even for a second.

Next Chapter: 20 - I Know You're Lying

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