#I gotta stop being so hard on myself; fuck my brain this design is pretty good

[ratislatis]

"Your Dudes are normal, they're teens... but mine, she's--she's just a kid."

Hero Oak's Dude takes the form of an eldritch younger form of her no I will not elaborate

this sketch page is so rough ;-; I'll start caring about composition someday,,,, wistful sigh,,,,

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Love you too.

A/N: This was initially supposed to be smut but my brain went hay wire and ended in angst. More Mayans coming next week! 

MASTERLIST

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2210

Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, angst, Ez being an asshole, heartbreak, more angst 

*****************************************

Ezekiel couldn’t resist ogling Y/N from across the overly crowded bar. Cigar smoke filtrated throughout, pool cues ricocheted, and Y/N dawned that brilliant smile of hers. Her candied glimpse combined with her impeccably short dress, and irrevocably sexiness drove Ez to the brink of combustion. Ez perched an elbow against the wood bar top watching Y/N’s hypnotizing demeanor. She shot him a playful glance unwilling to draw her attention elsewhere than from the beautiful man across the room.

Her voice oozed of alcoholic flirtation as she bit her lower lip catching his interest and walking his way.

“Come here often, hotshot?”

There was no denying the sly chuckle that slipped off his lips; “Smooth line. How often does that one actually work?”

Her kittenish nature only stoked his fire lighting a fire in his belly.  

“Well…my boyfriend usually falls for it but he’s kinda into that cutesy bullshit. Come to think of it, you might know him. Tall, dark, and handsome? Ring any bells?”

Her insinuated attitude was driving him crazy. Unbeknownst to Y/N, his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans. She wanted to force his hand, compel to his more dominant side. His blood seethed as his eardrums hummed of desolate waves. Ez bit his tongue to stop the trickle of words begging to slink from his lips.

“Sounds like a sucker. Didn’t think a pretty chica like you to be taken? Such a shame.”

Y/N’s raised an eyebrow in curiosity wondering how much longer she could push him before he turned into putty.

“Now, now. I don’t appreciate you talking shit about my man. It’d be best if you watch yourself.”

Y/N excelled when a challenge presented itself.  Defiance buried in her very pitch as she scooted closer to the man in question. Now elbow to elbow, Y/N rested her cheek against her knuckles coyishly.

“Baby, if you keep smiling like that, my panties will be drenched before we have the chance to do a damn thing about it.”

Leaning closer in;” Please don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting I turn you on…make you wet?” There was no hiding the devilish grin cemented on his perfect face.

Her face furiously flushed at his choice words; “Most definitely, E. In all honesty, I’m not wearing underwear because matter of fact just looking at that gorgeous jawline of yours is way too much for my ovaries to handle.”

His tongue met the roof of his mouth creating a tsk sound reverberating from his mouth. Y/N rubbed her thighs together in hopes of alleviating her eccentric inner bits. Y/N pushed her falling tendrils from her face tilting her head his direction. Her hand made quick work caressing her inner breasts as Ez watched her chest beat rapidly.

“Mmmhm, and this girl is hoping her boyfriend just might be able to sneak away from his boys for a minute to properly fuck his girl. But I’d hate to force your hand….”

“I hope you know the punishment that ensues for this behavior baby girl…”

“Oh, so you admit you’ll punish me? God, I’ve been dying for you to fuck me all night. Finally, you got the hint, Prospect.”

Ezekiel chucked at her cleverness. He’d long fallen for the woman before him, but he appreciated the constant challenge she reciprocated time and time again.

“What are you trying to hint at, Y/N?”

“You know exactly what I want and you’re playing coy if you don’t.”

Y/N rested her hand atop his shoulder as his hand perched upon the dip of her luscious hip. Leaning in dangerously close, she trailed sleek kisses against the slick of his neck. Each smooth trailed upwards towards his ear as Y/N leaned in seductively close.

“It’s cute thinking you don’t want to fuck the shit out of me here. Your bashfulness never seizes to amaze me.”

Her hands grazed down his defined abs brutishly stroking the outer layer of his jeans.

“But your dick seems to tell another story.”

Ezekiel gazed around the room watching his brothers too distracted by pool cues and babes to notice their interaction laughing aloud.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m still their bitch boy and I can’t just slip away without someone noticing.”

“Oh, but I promise you won’t have to travel far. The bathrooms are only a few feet away. So, if you’re interested in fucking your super-horny girlfriend, meet me there in five minutes. If not, I’ll just have to do the job myself. But don’t worry, I’ll send you the video.”

“You’re such a goddamn brat, you know that? …” Ez moved his hand grazing his clothed crotch as a moan alluded her.

“Can’t you feel how hard I am for you right now? It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, dear boyfriend. If you’re bating me then yes, I do want to fuck you here and now.”

“So quick to make demands when you’re in no position to do so. Shit, I can’t wait to nestle so fucking deep within you, to hear you begging for me. Someone needs to fuck the brat outta ya.”

“Oh, it’s so cute you think I’ll beg. My pussy is your haven, don’t forget that.”

Y/N added just an inch of space between their sweltering bodies unwilling to give into him so easily.

“So, I’ll take your erect cock as a yes. You know where I’ll be…”

Y/N walked by him dripping in her own seductive nature. Ez reached towards her gripping her arm in exchange; “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“Well guess you can prove it to me.”

“Oh, you tease….”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!”

“You little…”

“Brat? That’s right, only one person makes me act this way, feel this way and that person is you. So, whether you like it or not, deal with it.”

“Oh, I’ll deal with you alright. Soon enough you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

“I completely intend on it. In fact, I’ll leave the ball in your court.”

Y/N sauntered past him making sure to graze her breasts against his trunk; “You know where I’ll be.” She winked his way hoping for Ez to catch her hint before walking towards the bathroom hoping the one person she’d hoped would follow. Ezekiel Reyes was genuinely her other half, someone who understood every intricate design she’d been allotted.

 Coco approached the Ez clasping his shoulder; “How are you the luckiest bastard outta all of us, Prospect? You get to tap that on the daily? Not fair cabrón.”

His angelic curls fell gently upon his forehead as that signature smirk of his appeared.

“In my defense, she’s a little shit that she tests my patience every damn day. But, yes, I gotta agree with you. I’m the luckiest bastard outta all of us.”

“So quit fuckin talking to me and go get yo girl, newbie.”

Ez nodded agreeing with Coco. He was torn between his club obligations and chasing after Y/N, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you. 10 minutes… now go before I change my mind!”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”

“Damn right you do, now go!”

His boots pounded against the wood; his strides picked up taking him quickly to his destination. Ez’s anticipation peaked as he neared the bathroom door rattling the handle. Ez stood dumbfounded to find the door locked…

“Querida, I know you’re in there. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, ain’t I?”

Y/N whispered back through the door; “I’m counting on it.”

The click of the door gave way unlocking as Ez stepped inside swiftly shutting the door behind him. He eyed Y/N like she was his last and final meal wanting to devour her from the outside in. The startled look in her misty eyes only excited him more. He stalked towards her; Y/N walked backwards in sync with him. Soon enough, the back of her thighs met the cold cabinet. Her skin crawled of goosebumps as her panting increased significantly.

“You bait me all night, wearing this ungodly short piece of fabric that barely covers anything on this gorgeous body of yours, and you have the audacity to talk shit?”

Electricity stifled their small quarters as Ez’s hands played with her hemline. Wet kisses tickled down her collar bone. Y/N tilted her head allowing Ez easier access. Torturously slow, Ez pressed the material upwards above her curvy hips revealing her bare pussy.

“No underwear. Glad to see you weren’t lying.”

Y/N slapped his chest in jest; “One thing I will never do is lie to you Ezekiel Reyes.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  

Only adding fuel to the fire, Y/N grasped his chin between her fingers forcing his gaze to remain on her and only her. She squeezed tightly enough to grab his fleeting attention.

“I don’t joke about that shit, E. I’ve never felt this way before. Don’t spoil it just yet.”

The crow’s feet near his eyes softened exhaling all the excess air loitering in his lungs. His infamous puppy dog looks triggered charging their electricity. Forgetting her momentarily exposure, Y/N closed the gap kissing him with every inch of might fathomable. She mustered every ounce of desire to which Ez gladly reciprocated.

Their moans intermingled as Ez tapped her thigh signaling to jump on the counter. Her legs spread unconscious creating the perfect amount of space for him to slide into. His hands travelled along her sides before finding home and squeezing the globes of her luscious ass.  Every dimple and indention turned him on. An illicit squeak was the only other sound accompanying their heavy breathing.

“Please, E.” A whiny undertone whirred to life.

“Please what? I’m right here.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips securely pulling him closer. His jeans rubbed deliciously against her exposed thighs only teasing her further.

“I want you. All of you, Ezekiel Reyes. Forever.”

Something unexplainable shifted in that moment as Ez gazed down at the girl pinned beneath him. For so long, he’d wanted this, dreamt of her, and now he wasn’t sure how to handle himself. The last time he gave himself so freely to another ended up burning him. Emily was his first love but Y/N, Y/N was his epic love. The twinkle in her eyes welcomed him time and time again silently begging for permission. Suddenly it wasn’t just about sex and pleasure but an opportunity of redemption.

“You feel it too, right?”

Y/N pulled back from his grasp embarrassed at her newfound honesty. “Ugh, I’m fucking it up, aren’t I? I didn’t mean for things to get so intense in a fucking bathroom of all places?”

Just as she moved to hop down, Ez stopped her. His this, this life he chose was no place for a woman like Y/N. And though his heart beat victoriously in his chest, Ezekiel knew what had to done. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to morph into his fucked-up life. He wanted to shout it to the rooftops; I’m in love with you too.

He was ripping at the seams dying to scream his unprofessed love but once again denying the beast within him. His silence was enough of an answer. Y/N frowned trying to hide the quiver of her chin. Looking away, Y/N furiously blinked hoping to will her unshed tears into oblivion. Her purity and compassion were too much at risk to sacrifice.

“Y/N….”

“No, don’t Ezekiel.”

“I think we want different things, things I can’t offer you.”

The rumbles in her chest cascaded violently like waves attacking a cliff. His rejection stung like ravenous bees.

“You can but you won’t. There’s a difference! God! I fall for this shit every time. You lure me back in and just when I break through your heavily guarded walls you pull back and shoo me away. How many times do you have to remind me you don’t want me, E?”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. Sadness swallowed her whole plummeting to an unimaginable depth. His thumb inadvertently reached for the droplet but she flinched in the nick of time. Defeat coursed through his blood. His subconscious screamed for him to speak but nothing came out. Her words seared him, his own personal brand of pain. Calm down heart.

“Tell me you feeling nothing and I’ll never ask again.”

The somber quietness remained suffocating both parties. It was then that the truth finally dawned on him like boulders falling from the sky. Sometimes the hardest battle we fight is the battle within ourselves.

“Jeez, Ez. Guess I got my answer. Next time you have one of your urges, don’t call me, ever.”

Her warm palm pressed against his pectoral lightly shoving him. The minute distance was enough to destroy him. Her rejection simmered into her movements. With her strength fast depleting, Y/N craved fresh fall air. She stopped in place looking over her sunken shoulder; “It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew. Have a nice life, Reyes.”

Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free. Free to mourn the love she so tragically denied. She distracted herself to save herself. After all, how often do we get a second chance…

~~~~~

Tags:  @twistnet @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl89 @carlaangel86 @imagineredwood @gemini0410 @mayans-mc @reaperwalking @prospectfandom @emmaveale123 @peaky-marvel @kind-wolf @scorpio4dayzzz @starrynite7114 @penny4yourthot @breanime @thegirlwhowritesfics @star017 @threeminutesoflife @woahitslucyylu  @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass @blessedboo @lady-pswrld  @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​  @claytoncardenasbabymama @angelreyesgirl89 @cocotheclown​ @trulysuccubus @janeexo @itsjusttaralove @soaronmywings @bigcreatorwombatdreamer​ @sarai-ibn-la-ahad​ @starrynite7114​ @hermankopusortizorsumshite​ @fvckthisbxtchup​ @noz4a2​ @lharrietg 

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 18

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: We stan ✨women in science✨. Bruce uwu. Twitter social media AU nobody asked for. Stephen and Tony are dicks and I'm not talking about their anatomy. Setting up mood for Bruce smut, ngl. PTSD makes things spicy. I'm depressed so please be kind ✌🏻💀🙃

"I really do wonder how can you two fit those egos of yours in your pants," I kept my tone forcefully casual, cheerful even. "Why don't you just fuck already?"

I was met with stunned silence. Suddenly, the room seemed far too large and the people in much too quiet, staring at me with various expressions of horror obvious in their faces. As the strange friendship began developing between me and the team, my "outbursts" - how Steve liked to call them - lessened considerably. I had no need to provoke them into giving me attention, just striking up a casual chat was enough. The Avengers were great conversationalists, to my surprise.

Tony and Stephen, when paired, were the exception. I could count on one hand the amount of times they successfully came to a conclusion without fighting like cats and dogs. It was like each man had made it a personal mission to verbally top the other, more often than not resulting in a thirty-minute shitshow ending with one storming off in a dramatic flourish. It was mind-boggling how two supremely intelligent men could not find a way to communicate efficiently without infuriating the rest of the team.

Plus me. One way or another, I was almost always around. In the beginning, it was hilarious to see the free circus but it got old really quickly when they couldn't decide on dinner or a movie, leaving the rest of us starving and bored. Or the great Cloak debate - that one lasted days and the fussy thing was so upset, it point blank refused to part from Peter for a substantial amount of time. It's pretty fucking creepy that a semi-sentient, ancient piece of outerwear watches you when you sleep - just sayin'. I personally interjected with my own snark and sass whenever Tony and Stephen got too heated, successfully drawing the attention to myself. The fight broke up and I had amazing sex with Tony later, it was a win-win scenario.

Yet, Tony and Stephen didn't stop. To me, their way of "talking" (and I use that term loosely) looked a lot like unresolved sexual tension. Stephen frequently used his greater height to tower over Tony in a childish attempt to establish dominance; the engineer was no rookie and responded with extravagant peacocking such as "subtly" tapping the bracelet that hosted his nanotech suit or parading at dinner in a $30,000 custom made designer outfit. Because Tony could.

I was pleasantly surprised when Natasha started laughing at my remark. Full-blown, belly laugh. Those were rare, coming from the Widow, her usual mirth was quiet, sophisticated, just like her. Deadly (adorable). Bucky followed suit, snorting together with Clint and Loki.

Steve looked none too pleased with me. But then again, was he ever? "Doll, don't be rude."

"Brat," Bruce said at the same time, palming his face.

"People always call me a brat. And guess what, Steve?" I popped my hip, twirling a cotton candy pink coloured Dum-Dum between my fingers. "What can you do about it? Nothing," I shrugged, leaning my head against Bruce's shoulder affectionately.

Steve just shook his head in disappointment. "Can we get back on topic? Please?"

"Captain, I think that Stark..." Strange began talking with Tony dramatically groaning in the background and I instantly tuned out the useless babble. Steve should've been smarter and revoked speaking rights from Tony and Stephen. Or asked Loki to magically render them both mute for ten minutes.

"You're not wrong," Bruce quietly whispered next to my ear. "Ten bucks says Wanda meddles and those two finally work out their frustrations," The scientist hid a grin against my head. I felt the amused, giddy energy radiating off him like a plasma beam.

"I don't even have to bet," I rolled my eyes. "If she doesn't do it, I will."

Both Tony and Stephen were throwing me equally infuriated glances. One promised me a good, hard fucking and the other saw me a short, poisonous lecture on appropriate behaviour in the nearest future - you can guess which is which. If I had it my way, I'd skip the lecture and go straight to a hot, filthy threesome with two men twice my age. I wasn't blind, Strange was hot as hell and could be decent and even nice once in a blue moon.

He could, but he wouldn't be. I wanted that raw, unadulterated lust, tension so concentrated it walked the razor's edge between violent craving and repulsion. Ever since the incident with Clint, I had this ugly mess inside of me, like a live wire about to snap. My brain was constantly racing, darting between how utterly useless I am in a group of supers and embracing my normal-ness, amplifying it by hosting game nights and spending time trying to convince people to start a dungeons and dragons campaign. Or something.

My sleep was like Swiss cheese, riddled with holes where I stayed awake for one or two hours at a time in the middle of the night after waking up sweaty, with my heart hammering out of my chest. Sometimes I dreamt of Clint's lifeless, sickly white body, sometimes the whole room flooded with blood and I couldn't stop it no matter what, there was so much of it, I drowned in it, I startled up with the taste of it in my mouth. Rarely, the worst of it came - the one where Clint was alive as millions of millions of little fluorescent, poisonous jellyfish burst out of him and he screamed and screamed and screamed...

I had PTSD. Yay, me. As if my uselessness wasn't enough of a burden, my brain decided for me that it wasn't good enough that I saved Clint and now it was punishing me for being close to a group of people who routinely saved the WORLD.

I contemplated my usual habits - going to a party, getting trashed and dancing until my legs were numb. I just wanted to shut my brain off for a moment, give it a hard reset so-to-say, but with Tony on my back like a jet-pack, I didn't doubt he'd show up to the place and drag me out of there even if I was kicking and screaming. And he was a Stark, a billionaire, so visiting my dad in Cali wouldn't be possible on my own. Tony would gas up the jet and the rest of the team would find and excuse to tag along, too. As much as I loved being the baby menace who could get away with anything, I hated the way they all herded me, like I was an actual child. I couldn't get away from myself, not even for a moment.

I had the backup-backup plan and I was going to have to execute it. Desperate times, desperate measures. "I don't doubt y'all enjoy listening to Tony and Steph flirt," The nickname escaped unmoderated from my lips before I could catch myself. "But what are we doing for Halloween? I need to know if I gotta get a costume," Bruce chuckled next to me and wrapped an arm around me, happy for the distraction. Unlike me, the scientist was obligated to listen and participate in the avengers-themed discussion. Which was difficult because the engineer and the sorcerer constantly bickered, inadvertently taking over the talk.

"Halloween?" Steve groaned.

"We should do something," Bucky side-eyed his boyfriend. "For the children." Something told me he wasn't thinking of the children, at all. The man was positively leering, probably thinking about what kind of a tight suit he could convince Steve to squeeze into.

"A party!" Tony immediately exclaimed, interrupting Stephen mid-setence.

"Tony, no," Steve stated firmly.

"Tony, YES!" Clint perked up. "A snack bar. A bar-bar."

"I will not be helping you all if you get alcohol poisoning," Stephen crossed his arms.

"So it's a party," I stated firmly, throwing a contemplating look at Wanda and Pietro. The twins looked unsure but excited. I knew I could count on fellow young people to support my decision to have fun, dance a little, drink a little. Let loose. To nail my point, I turned to Bruce with a mischievous smirk. "Fifty bucks says Stephen is too stuck up to show up in costume."

"Beg pardon?!" The sorcerer exclaimed. His eyebrows threatened to meet his hairline.

"I think you give him too little credit, Princess," Bruce winked at me and we solemnly shook hands. It was great having a fellow partner in mischief. Loki's approving smirk just sealed the deal for me.

"It's not my fault you sometimes act like you have a stick up your butt," I gave in the way of explanation, shrugging my shoulders innocently in Stephen's direction. "I'm just pointing out the obvious."

"I don't dare to imagine what's been up yours," The sorcerer retorted dryly, in an uncharacteristically childish fashion, arms still crossed. It almost looked like he was pouting.

"Tony," I simply said, leering salaciously at the man.

"Ooh, kinky," Clint reached over and we promptly high-fived each other in the wake of multiple embarrassed groans emanating around the room. "Strange, you're a boring old man, get over it."

"And you regularly end up in dumpsters, Barton," Strange retorted quickly. "Not my idea of fun."

"You wouldn't know fun if it hit you in the face!" Tony grinned triumphantly, confident in his superiority over Strange. Look at that, the team was doing the work for me and I didn't even have to try.

"I'll show you fun," Stephen retorted darkly. It was obvious the man was planning something.

"Ok, boomer," I raised my eyebrows in muted satisfaction before turning around and grabbing Bruce to drag along with me. "I'm confiscating your best scientist to amuse myself. I am bored. We will go and do actual science whilst y'all argue. Bye."

My patience had run out. We were examining the parasites we found in the murder-anthropods-from-space, codename MAFS, courtesy of yours truly, and their amazing properties to penetrate cell membranes and feed on metals in organic life forms. Without Bruce's help I understood maybe half of it but he had the patience of a saint and dutifully and understandably explained to me the finer points of studying aliens. Signing half a dozen NDAs was never more worth it.

Steve's sigh consisted of 99% suffering and 2% disappointment. Natasha face-palmed silently in the corner, clutching a mug of coffee, a poster child for existential dread.

"Wait for me," Tony whined, going for the door and promptly being stopped by Steve pointing out the team needing his input on one mission or another. The engineer sighed. "Baby girl, don't let the green mean to start any experiments without me." Tony instructed, pointing an accusatory finger in our direction.

I clutched at Bruce dramatically, feigning hurt feelings and was rewarded with a swift motion of his arms. I shrieked delightfully at being thrown over the scientist's shoulder as he hastened his pace towards the elevator, hightailing it out of there. "I'd never snitch on science daddy," I wiggled my eyebrows in Tony's direction, sticking a hand down the back pocket of Bruce's pants, dangling over his shoulder like a happy sack of potatoes.

The lab smelled strongly of alcohol and bitter chemicals, the solution that Bruce developed to ensure the optimal state of the alien pathogens. The man's genius never ceased to amaze me: Bruce came up with the needed formula in the span of a few hours while running low on sleep, post a Hulk-out session.

We put on our protective gear - "science onesies" I called them - along with a respirator and goggles and set to the segregated part of the lab where the specimens were kept under a blue light. The glass wall between Bruce's and Tony's lab was dimmed; I reflected in it, looking positively futuristic in my double-stacked white platformed boots and white hazmat suit.

"Wait," I motioned to Bruce to come over.

"Oh, right, our music," He was already half-way to being in total Science Mode. "Friday, please put on the "Get Schwifty" playlist, 60% volume."

The playlist that me and Bruce came up with for our lab sessions. The man was such an adorable dork. Thirty percent my music, thirty percent of his indie rock shit and forty percent 00's bops. In other words, utter perfection.

I finally managed to fish out my phone from my pants. "No, let's take a selfie," I struck an impressive pose and pointed the camera as Avril Lavigne sung the first verse to Sk8r Boi.

Bruce laughed but abided by the request, giving me bunny ears in the photo, tapping the fingers of his other hand on my waist to the rhythm of the song.

"He was a skater boy, she said see ya later boy!" I sang along, switching my Instagram to stories and posting the short clip of us just vibing with the caption #sciencetime, Bruce laughing openly behind his respirator. I looked cute and silly in my outfit.

"Send the video to me, I'll post it on my Twitter," Bruce requested. I indulged him then put my phone away, ready to conquer the world of microbiology. Or die trying. Science was calling...

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

[thedreadvampy]

after the cbt post I'm really unsure if I even want to apply for counselling now

the whole point of looking for therapy was to get help but if it makes things worse then maybe I should just carry on trying to do it myself?

I don't fuckin know

that was meant to be my out for feeling like this what the fuck do I do now

Like. First off this is about CBT, not about counseling generally, which has been really useful once I've found the right process. I don't know if you're in the UK or not, but while accessing NHS counseling hasn't always been easy and it took a while to find the right fit, when I did get a counselor and approach that fit my needs it jumped my healing forwards by miles, it really can be a lifesaver (plus tbh if you're really deep in the doldrums, it can help just by giving you some structure and space). Don't stop looking for counseling because it absolutely can make a huge positive difference, I don't know where I'd be without the counseling I got from the rape crisis center and the NHS. There's a lot of types of therapy/counselling out there and what works for you isn't something I can predict - for me what I've reacted to best is freeform talk therapy, but other people find that really hard to engage with and prefer more structured or theoretical therapies, and the NHS offer a lot of different ones (they just tend to jump to CBT first).

So, beyond that; some people do find CBT really helpful. But the way the NHS specifically uses CBT is outside its recommended use, which is treatment for OCD, BPD, anxiety and some PTSD symptoms (although not PTSD itself). The NHS basically uses it as a first stop for pretty much all mental health patients as far as I can tell (because, as I say, it's cheap and easy to apply) so, much like most people with MH problems I know have been on Citalopram (which is their first stop SSRI), most people I know with MH problems have been to CBT sessions. And with that range of problems, most of them won't find what they need in CBT, which, again, despite how it's currently used, is not designed as a general purpose treatment but specifically to help manage repetitive thought and behaviour patterns.

For some people, managing thought and behaviour patterns is what they need, at least temporarily. My partner found it very helpful to keep him out of breakdown territory during a hard time, and so have several friends I know (seems to have positive impacts particularly on friends diagnosed with BPD bc BPD diagnostic criteria, which focus on intense reaction and toxic thought spirals, line up really well with what CBT is designed to help with).

I think the way in which it's harmed me and others isn't the actual treatment, but the fact that it's treated as if it Should Work and that can make you feel way worse if everyone tells you 'CBT and mindfulness is a magic cure that fixes all your brain problems' and then it. doesn't. because your specific problem isn't what is designed to fix. and I think that harm is mitigated by knowing that a) what works for you is highly personal even within diagnoses, b) at the time you get CBT you probably don't have a concrete diagnosis beyond Something Ain't Right and c) CBT, even when it's right for you, isn't meant to be the end point.

CBT is, specifically, a stop-gap. It's meant to help you keep going with your life while you sort stuff out. Again, because of budget reasons the NHS kind of hope that your problems won't be too bad so that CBT will give you a good enough stable starting point to sort your own shit out without further support, which does work for some people, but for most of us CBT should be part of a larger treatment journey if used at all. CBT is a bandage - it doesn't close the wound, but where it works it stops you bleeding out long enough to either get to a hospital or for your body to heal itself.

I'm not going to lie to you - for a lot of us, getting through to the point where we're accessing the right treatment can be a slog. And because of how the NHS works, it can mean going to CBT, finding it doesn't work for you, and gritting your teeth through a six session course so you can go back to your doctor and say 'see, this didn't work for me and the CBT people agree, what else ya got?' My partner's just sat through 14 sessions of group therapy he found extremely stupidly designed specifically because sometimes that's what you gotta do to get referred on for one-on-one talk therapy, which is what he actually needs.

Like I say, the harm comes when you're made to feel like you're failing therapy. You don't fail therapy. Therapy that isn't working just isn't the right setup for you for whatever reason and that's not a flaw in you, there is no universal catchall therapeutic method. It's always going to be trial and error and if you are able to hold in mind that you're not Bad for finding a counseling style or methodology unhelpful, off-putting or alienating, then badly-fitted therapy shouldn't be nearly as harmful as trying to struggle on manfully alone.

The hardest but most rewarding part for me was the process of learning that I could just say 'this isn't working for me because XYZ, can we try a different approach' and...nothing bad would happen. I wouldn't lose my access to counseling and nobody shouted at me, and when I said 'this isn't working can we change it'...things got better. I was having an absolutely shit and frustrating time with my NHS counselor, I was finding going to counseling a huge stress, and after stewing for a couple of weeks I blew up and said 'I don't like this, this or this, I feel talked down to when you do this, I don't feel like you're listening to me about this, and this thing you're doing keeps making me feel worse' and he got defensive. but he also. changed his practise immediately. and we ended up having a really fantastic and productive 6 months of counseling and I am in private therapy now but I keep referring back to the work he and I did together because it was so useful for me.

So like the takeaways for me are a) know that the fact that this counseling might suck for you doesn't mean counseling in general won't be helpful, there's always going to be some trial and error to find the right fit, b) if it does suck, don't suffer in silence, tell them! if you're sitting there hating it, they're not getting anything out of that either so just let them know that you're uncomfortable, finding it hard to engage, etc (I know this can be really hard and I know for me I only started being able to push back when I was already a couple of years into my treatment journey but do what you can do to communicate your fears) and c) when it works it works.

Getting counseling that works is a journey. It can be wearing and esoteric and a pain in the ass, and sometimes you just don't click with a therapy and sometimes you just don't click with the counselor, but it is absolutely worth pushing through the bullshit because a) change often happens gradually while you're not looking and b) finding a concept who works for you absolutely can change your life super fast. It took me a couple of tries but when I found a counselor and approach that worked for me I managed within 16 sessions to get out of my house, to get a job I liked for the first time, to go out and meet people for the first time in a city I'd been in for 3 years, and to cut out a lot of the people who were making my life unsafe. It's so worth it but it is a journey that takes time and trial and error, so the sooner you start the sooner you're likely to get somewhere that helps you.

[bladekindeyewear]

HS^2 bloggin’ upd8 2020-01-17

Alright, morningblogging yesterday’s 2020-01-17 upd8 to Homestuck^2 let’s go!  Spoiler-free again.  I kinda don’t want even the next chapter names image-spoiled above the cut anymore so I’m going to have to figure out WHAT to put above the cut in these liveblog posts for visual reinforcement... a unique silly icon?  Going back once I’m done with the upd8 and posting something non-spoilery but weird-looking out of context?

Eh, can’t be assed.  Just know that after this I’m going to pony up for the Patreon commentary and skim it for anything plot-useful to y’all (in a separate post).  Let’s get started.

Okay, what’s next:  Any bonuses?  Oh, none!  Phew.  Unless those are coming faster too and just staggered differently, which would mean I gotta overcome my irrational pre-Homestuck-reading anxiety even MORE often.  :T

No Homestuck you don’t GET to ask how my-- ah, right.  :P

(FYI, HS^2 has been good to my emotions so far, quite a balm for the epilogues, so once I START reading I’m usually fine; but after being hurt so badly how could I possibly convince my lizard brain to trust it until it’s right in front of me?  Seriously, just hearing that the upd8 has landed messes me up a bit until I come fix it by reading w/ y’all here.)

Okay, so whose feelings?  As much as I’ve been waiting for Jade, I hope this isn’t about Jade.

> ==>

Ah fuck, we’re finally with the Pursuit Crew.  Bracing myself.  That means we get to see probably sleeping Jade ( :C ), full-swing DaveKat (approving nod), the first canon onscreen look at masculine-mode Roxy (<3), a probably pretty pissed off Kanaya (possibly either the feelings target, the one Saying How Are Your Feelings, or both), and uh... did they drag Callie along?  Or leave her back there with her meta freakout?  Probably left her back there, but... hm.

Let me turn up the brightness on this screen to sear these next pages into my retinas.  (Also, it feels odd to still be using a four-person “==>” for these, although if Jade is still asleep the numbers might fit on both ends... :c )

> ==>

I don’t think Dad is in the spacefaring business, so this is probably one of Jake’s shittier spaceship designs.

> ==>

...well that’s a touch disturbing.  Is that a Jade-occupied bed or are those just pillows?

Oh what the fresh fanfic’y heck is this command.

> i enter.

Okay that’s great.  I got a kick out of that.

JADE [in calliope red]: the prince’s power grows.

--but that’s not.  That explains the narrative command text, it’s alt!callie talking through a still conked-out Jade.  Please let her wake up between speak-throughs, please tell me you’ve learned that trick??  I already know you’re gonna pull an “oh she was asleep pretty much all of those THREE YEARS OF TRAVEL” thing on me and that’s hard fucking enough to deal with.

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST!

He’s actually using the full curse correctly, huh?

...These commands.  Guess part of the puzzle is how much alt!Callie is being typically morbid and how much she might actually be wising up enough to get a kick out of this.

> the knight of blood falls.

DAVE: dude can you chill for like even a single fucking second DAVE: also are you ok

Has CallieJade chilled for even a single second this entire trip??  Is he asking just if Karkat’s okay or Jade too???

--yeah I’m overblowing things out of nervousness.  Just wait and see a bit, boots.

Alt!Callie has at least learned to be more of a smartass:

> karkat is characteristically appreciative of the alarm call.

Shirt trade Karkat, nice.  And uh, Jade’s dress sure is a... dress.  Hm.

(Did alt!Callie alchemize adjustments to did she just luck out to have a red-symbol’d Bec belt and accent leggings?  I’d prefer the former, because as much as it would be acceptable within Homestuck proper, using the transition between the epilogues and this new-author’d work to just HAPPEN to give her a fitting outfit without an excuse via providence is kind of lazy.)

KARKAT: OH, PARDON THE FUCK OUT OF ME FOR OVERREACTING A LITTLE WHEN MY GOOD FRIEND "POSSESSED JADE" BUSTS INTO MY RESPITEBLOCK AT 5 AM! KARKAT: NEXT TIME I’LL JUST PULL THE COVERS BACK AND LET HER CLIMB IN! JADE: i am uninterested in that scenario. KARKAT: GREAT! POSSESSED JADE ISN’T EVEN HORNY! HOW FUCKED UP IS THAT?

...please let that mean he’s not used to her being possessed all the time and she wakes up sometimes.  PLEASE.

DAVE: but im pretty sure i locked that door JADE: i unlocked it with my mind. DAVE: fuck KARKAT: FANTASTIC. JADE: the prince’s powers are growing, but so are mine.

Dave, I’m pretty sure regular-ass no-Green-Sun Space powers can flip a few lock tumblers too.  (--though, I guess from context this was a Jakeship technolock.  Confirmation on the ship’s bad taste in design.  --I think I’m foggily remembering it said in the Epilogues that they took one of Jake’s ships just like Dirk did, too... man, being depressed so much by the Epilogues sure took a lot out of my ability to recall them decently.)

KARKAT: LIKE YOU DON’T FLOAT AROUND LIKE A CREEPY PIECE OF SHIT ALL DAY AS IT IS?

God DAMN IT she’s been asleep and possessed the whole fucking time.

> sleep is abandoned, coffee sought.

More obligatory DaveKat being cute, somehow only emphasized by the embarrassing glowing-with-power observer who doesn’t really get any of it.

Ah, here we go:

> the rogue is also awake.

Oh huh.  Cool!

Hero outfit, understated...  her his choice of heart-shades color-coded to stand out from Dave more to avoid further mistaken identity cases.  Works well!  (Holy shit I only JUST remembered at the end to go back and correctly gender Roxy as him, that was close. I blame the epilogues for a lack of visual reinforcement; I shouldn’t have as much trouble soon enough.  Seriously, I don’t remember ANYTHING without visual reinforcement, I think that’s why I remember so much of Homestuck proper so clearly.)

KARKAT: OH SHIT, THERE SHE IS! I DIDN’T EVEN HEAR HER FOLLOW US! ROXY: sometimes a girls just got to get her drift on i guess ROXY: it be like that

ilu roxy.

I missed Roxy so much, you guys.  I need more of him remarking on all this crazy shit if I’m gonna stay sane though all this.  (And I need more of him and AWAKE JADE kicking ass independently or together if I’m going to continue to believe there’s justice in the world.)

> ==>

We rarely saw Rose drinking anything but the rare coffee in canon, but I think Kanaya would have gotten her plenty into tea, yes.  Or at the very least, wanting the aesthetic of drinking tea with Kanaya would have gotten Rose into tea even if it never crossed Kanaya’s mind to try the stuff.

ROXY: well i mean who knows what she drinks now ROXY: dirk probs tossed the coffee machine out the space window right away ROXY: dude doesnt "believe" in "substances" > the prince is contemplated for a moment in silence.

FUCK, Dirk can see the narrative all the way out here???  No wonder alt!Callie’s forced to have possession turned on 24/7.  That’s fucking disappointing.  How the hell are we going to get any proper Jade time with THAT hanging over our heads?  She’d only be able to do anything when Dirk’s knocked out, and maybe not even THEN!

I was virtually promised more of actual non-asleep Jade getting shit done in HS^2.  Now there’s an even longer wait on it than I expected.  This sucks.

(EDIT: BOY did I misread that link line. Thinking “is contemplated” meant is sitting contemplating, when it meant "is being contemplated by everyone here". That was dumb of me.)

*clicks that next link*

Oh my goodness, Roxy joined the Bird Hair Crew.  It makes him look like a fucking asshole but I kind of love it.

KARKAT: IS THERE MILK?

I can’t believe Karkat is okay with drinking milk.  --yes, culturally Trolls are more comfortable with animal excretions than we are, but you would’ve thought years of railing against Equius would have purged any tolerance the idea of milk from his psyche.

I guess Dave introduced him to cereal, and it was all over from there.

DAVE: this is more like a castle DAVE: a castle of idk DAVE: twenty something ennui

Sounds like a relatable mood.  Especially considering Dirk probably decided to conquer reality out of almost nothing but twenty-something ennui.

Alright.  You aren’t going to turn Kanaya into an alcoholic or anything on us are you?

> the knight of time seeks a sylph...

--this is the shittiest shipboard starship aesthetic.

> ...and finds her, momentarily.

WOW that looks fucking depressed.  :(

> ==>

...okay you know what?  Never mind.  That outfit has wrapped straight back around into Trying Too Hard and is now hilarious.

DAVE: you ever feel like our whole lives are eventually gonna end up like this DAVE: just blasting through space on a sweeps long journey to ""somewhere"" chasing after or running from some vague enemy thats sometimes a god modded pet dog and sometimes your dad DAVE: without the faintest fucking idea of whats going to happen when we get there DAVE: thats a little specific but you know what i mean

Why do you think the epilogues upset us so much?  We thought we’d won free of that bullshit.

> ==>

Oh jesus christ that’s the most depressingly sad I’ve ever seen Kanaya drawn.  :C

--Karkat got you to watch Serendipity?  That’s amazing, Dave.

KANAYA: You Arent Reminding Me Of Her As I Rarely Think Of Anything Else KANAYA: I Close My Eyes And I See Her KANAYA: I Keep Them Open And I See Her

Fuck.

Y’know how little showing these two in love and actually HAPPY together we’ve seen in this entire comic and its subworks?  Despite them having spent at least a few happy years together we only saw in tiny screenclips?  And how Candy alluded super hard that they most likely couldn’t get that in this real timeline where shit’s going down?

Seriously, FUCK.  You could at least pretend to give us some hope, here.

Oh no, don’t ask for the nursery story, Dave.  Unless it turns out to be a funny one or a Rose twist on an old story or something.  Which it probably is, I should stop worrying.

> ==>

KANAYA: Oh Its A Wriggler Story About A Young Prince And The Beloved Flower He Loved And Lost DAVE: flower DAVE: like a plant KANAYA: Its A Fairytale Dave DAVE: right KANAYA: A Singular Wild Rose He Failed To Cherish When He Had Her KANAYA: And His Journey Of Discovering What She Meant To Him All Along KANAYA: Culminating In A New Quest To Find Her And Win Her Back

Dirk you PIECE OF SHIT did you rewrite the narrative of the fucking STORIES SHE TOLD CHILDREN?!??  Does the fact that alt!Callie is only in the present mean he can rewrite ANY past event we didn’t literally SEE???  FUCK you.  Seriously fuck all of this.

Please tell me she was kidding just then, or realizes there’s fucking something wrong with what she’s saying and getting angry or.

(EDIT: shoutyourporpoise replied: "Hey, idk If you picked up on this, but the 'nursery story' Rose told to the wigglers is just The Little Prince, which is maybe a BIT early for them to read, but I don't think that's a case of Dirk changing the narrative; its just Rose being Too Adult as usual." Oh, damn, I didn't even CATCH that it was that story. That makes all of this a lot more forgivable, even if pretty unforgivably leaning into the fiction that Dirk used to brainwash and kidnap her. Maybe that's exactly why it worked -- fiction, a story so blazed into the public consciousness? Hm. Thanks, shoutyourporpoise.)

KANAYA: But In A Way I Feel As If It Is the Greater Universe Trying To Tell Me Something

Mother fuck I’m even going to have to see our protagonists warped by Dirk when they’re ostensibly FULLY SHIELDED aren’t I.  There’s only so much of that I would be able to take, you know.

KANAYA: It May Simply Stem From My Longing To See Her Again And How Much Is Indicative Of Something More Sinister KANAYA: She Is A Goddess Of Light And The Only Of Her Kind We Know Is Alive After All KANAYA: Maybe Shes Wrested Dominion Of The Entire Concept In All Its Appearances Within This Frame Of Reference

Hm.  Well, it being a product of Rose’s ascension instead of Dirk’s is possibly a more charitable take, with Ultimate Rose projecting the delusion enforced on her backward, visible to past Rose’s Sight when she isn’t paying attention and thus paving the way for Dirk to paradoxically exploit that “ideal” as something Lighty and Important and “Perfect”.  I still don’t fucking like it though.

> ==>

DAVE: sorry i know you say you got your badass monster powers but kanaya you look tired as hell DAVE: not that im tryna psyche you or whatever but youre waxing poetic in the dark which i guess is maybe on brand but still

Yyyep.

DAVE: unless terezi is lurking in the vents somewhere and now that i bring that up its actually not out of the question so im kind of gonna be thinking about that one for a while

Pffff.

DAVE: youre the only person i know whos still basically the same as when i met you

--Which is kind of going to have to change, right?  She’s got some other cosmic purpose ready to change her a little more than she changed pre-human-troll-meetup, you’d think.

> ==>

Cute as hell.

> ==>

KANAYA: How Are Your Feelings

There’s the title drop.  I’d think Dave’s doing pretty well, considering?  Still fucked over by Dirk betraying and tricking Rose away who he’s been close with all his life, but.

> ==>

DAVE: except sometimes your best friend disappears and your other best friend goes into a ghost coma and your third best friend fucks off to space with your dad DAVE: the dude youve spent the last 7 years convincing yourself isnt an egomaniacal anime villain DAVE: and who isnt actually lying in wait to completely decimate your life and your emotions and shit

Ah... yeah.  A little worse than my casual list, huh?  Forgot that Jade vanishing into a possession-coma for THREE FUCKING YEARS is going to be hard on people inside the comic too, fuck.

DAVE: maybe it was naive to think that a bunch of twenty something trauma victims could run a society

I was honestly surprised they TRIED to run society at all.  Jasp even just highlighted a big reason why not in the bonuses.

DAVE: cool how earth c existed for centuries then we show up and manage to ruin society in seven fucking years

:(

Well, the trolls got THEIR lesson on why they didn’t deserve to rule over their new universe like gods; I guess some of y’all needed that lesson too?

DAVE: every serious conversation i have inevitably falls apart into riffing on a casual acquaintances ass

True.

Dammit, Dave didn’t feel like he could just be Some Guy even on Earth C.  :(

> ==>

...don’t think I’ve forgotten that nursery story, though.  I don’t want to think that it was something that ACTUALLY past happened, especially not without manipulation.  Like maybe past Rose was foreseeing the false purpose that Dirk wrote for her or the like, a cooperative misunderstanding between the two instead of Dirk or Rose literally reaching back in time.

> meanwhile...

KARKAT: WAIT, WHY THE FUCK AM I EVEN ASKING? HE’S OBVIOUSLY NOT FINE. KARKAT: ARE ANY OF US? ARE YOU? ROXY: not rly KARKAT: EXACTLY.

:(

--Oh right.  I remember that Callie and Roxy were going reasonably steady in Meat even though it was only alluded to, she didn’t freak out and stay awol or what have you.  That’s good to remember.  But it means Roxy deliberately left her behind to go on this dangerous quest, for years.  :C

KARKAT: KANAYA BARELY EVEN TALKS, CALLIOPE WON’T LEAVE THEIR CABIN, JADE JUST FLOATS AROUND LIKE A CREEPY BALLOON THAT’S MOSTLY MADE OF HAIR.

Oh, SHIT.  I should have read one line further.  They DID bring her.  Alt!Callie being here too must really FUCK with her.  ...maybe she can actually learn to accept that alternate way her life might’ve played out, though?

KARKAT: THE REALLY FUCKED UP THING IS I MIGHT BE THE MOST OKAY OUT OF ALL OF US, WHICH IS HOW YOU KNOW SHIT HAS REALLY GONE GLOBES UP.

Quite true.

ROXY: ur kinda an intense dude anybody ever tell u that KARKAT: NO.

Pff.

> ==>

KARKAT: AGAINST PRETTY MUCH ALL ODDS, AND DESPITE ME NOT DESERVING ANY OF IT, I ENDED UP GETTING PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING I WANTED. KARKAT: OVER AND OVER AGAIN. KARKAT: SOMETIMES IT ALMOST FEELS LIKE WHATEVER SLATHERING MONSTROSITY OF A COSMIC HELLBEAST THAT PUT ALL THIS SHIT INTO MOTION...ACTUALLY LIKES ME?

Well, if you want to blame Lord English for instance... we never saw Caliborn and Karkat interact much, but the parallels between the two were drawn so severely that Caliborn was basically the idealized, multiverse-threatening Ultimate Kismesis that he’d always dreamed of.  And operated against him without him even ever quite realizing it.

If a level of “respect” went from Caliborn to Karkat, too, from his Lord-Englishy vision nigh-omnipresent, then this outcome isn’t very surprising at all.

> ==>

(I don’t quite feel I get why Roxy shifted to this exasperated-Dave expression, but I get logically that he’d been waiting for Karkat to make a breakfast choice... Homestuck proper rarely pulled a “last line said corresponds to next-panel’s expression” without either leaving the conversation blank or having the NEXT lines of the conversation reinforce it, to prevent this inelegant misunderstanding.  Andrew was really damned talented in getting his point across visually, in that regard.  Just like, that careful visual intent delivery.)

Alright, I guess that’s it for this short upd8!  Meeting the pursuit crew was both more and less difficult than I expected.  Hopefully I get desensitized a bit as the characters continue to feel semi-almost-sorta-fine.

I have NO idea how this group is gonna work as a proper crew when we get to whatever weird other-players’ session this shit is going down in, though.

[johnlockfeelz]

Encounters

Okay so this is my first attempt at writing a one shot, and posting it. I’m only posting it cause my friend @realrandomposts told me I should. Sorry in advance for this cringe fest you’re bout to go on!

Stiles Stilinksi knew he was gay when he was fifteen years old. Fawning over the most popular girl in school, before suddenly finding himself VERY interested in one of the lacrosse players put that into perspective rather quickly. He and his best friend Scott talked things out and came to the conclusion that Lydia was merely a crush, not even a serious one at that, whereas his crush on Danny was extremely persistent and serious.

Being gay wasn’t that hard for Stiles. Despite living in a small town, everyone was surprisingly supportive of his sexuality, especially the people that truly mattered to him, like his father and friends (Danny not so much, but only because he got annoyed with Stiles’ terrible attempts to flirt with him pretty quickly.)

Stiles worked in the local Clifton’s, which was basically Beacon Hills’ version of a Walmart, albeit a little smaller. Still had the same functions however. Stiles himself worked in the Apparel department, a department usually designated for females but Stiles supposes to the managers, a gay male is basically the same thing. Assholes.

Stiles was actually having an okay shift that day, for once. No customers being rude, not being overloaded on returns from the customer service desk, that he had to retag and fold and put back in its place.

The day went south, when he saw him. Coming in early that afternoon to start his shift, he’d just clocked in and was headed to the swinging double doors that led out to merchandise floor when what Stiles could only deduce was a god walked by him. The man had to be at least 6”2’, and a wall of pure muscle, topped with short, gorgeous dark black hair that Stiles instantly wanted to run his fingers through.

He was on his phone as he passed Stiles, so he didn’t see his eye color, but man did Stiles want to suddenly know everything about this guy. Of course, he wouldn’t though. You see Stiles is a very awkward twenty year old young man, he never grew out of that phase in his teenage years, so if Stiles found someone attractive, he made sure that said person would NEVER hear from him so that he couldn’t embarrass himself in front of them.

His method, however sad and pitiful, was working well for him until about an hour before the end of his shift that night.

Every other Apparel associate, including one of his best friends Lydia, had already left for the night. He was the only one that was scheduled to 11pm that night. He was in the women’s athletics department, fixing a rack of sports shorts, when he saw a shadow out of his left peripheral. He looked up just in case it was a customer that he had to smile politely at, and made direct eye contact with the god from the back room this afternoon. Now meeting his eyes, Stiles could see that they were a hypnotic chocolate brown that Stiles felt he could just drown in.

Upon realizing that he’d actually looked into the most attractive person he’s ever seen eyes, Stiles’ instantly widened and dropped back down to the rack he was working on, barely scraping his view across the name tag on the man’s chest that read ‘Derek’, before he fixed one last hanger and instantly flew back to the fitting room to finish cleaning the rooms, not noticing how Derek’s eyes stayed on Stiles’ figure until he disappeared around the corner.

Any day Stiles worked following that mishap, he made absolutely sure that Derek was no where to be found. He didn’t want to accidentally see him again and end up embarrassing himself in front of that beautiful man by being his awkward self, as that’s all Stiles knows how to do.

Lydia thought the situation was hilarious. “Stiles, it’s just a guy! You don’t have to avoid him like the plague.” Lydia laughed two weeks later, as she leaned against the fitting room stall, staring at Stiles on the other side as he put the phone he’d just answered back in this cradle.

“You don’t understand, Lydia!” Stiles moaned, resting his head in his hands. “I made eye contact with him! DIRECT eye contact! It should be obvious why I can never let him see me again.”

“But it’s not.” Lydia shrugged. “So what? You looked a hot guy in the eyes, it’s not like you murdered his family.”

“That’s precisely why I can’t ever let him see me again. I looked him in the eyes. A man like that, you don’t just MEET his eyes without permission. You just don’t, Lydia! He’s godly, you don’t look gods in the face and get away with it! What if he’s offended now?”

Lydia rolled her eyes, fiddling with her name badge. “Honestly Stiles, you’re thinking too much into it. You’re blowing things out of proportion.”

“Maybe I am.” Stiles responded. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop avoiding him. It’s not that hard, either. I only see him like three times a week. He’s a fresh CAP2 associate, I never deal with CAP associates.”

“Whatever.” She shook her head. “I’m headed back to the men’s basics. Jennifer wants that entire section zoned and the deeper I go into it the more I want to kill myself.”

“Wait, real quick!” Stiles called out after her, pulling the fitting room keys off his forearm and the walkie talkie out of his back pocket. “It’s time for my break, can you watch fitting room until. I get back?”

Lydia held her hand out, catching the keys as he tossed them to her, instructing him to leave the walkie in the fitting room stall.

Stiles pulled his phone out the minute he got to the break room, sitting down at an empty table. He didn’t notice the tall dark and handsome guy he’d been avoiding for weeks sitting at a table a few feet away, with a dark haired beauty right beside him. The girl followed Derek’s gaze to the brown haired little twink looking boy playing on his phone. The woman met Derek’s eyes before she motioned for him to leave, getting up and walking to Stiles’ table, plopping herself down beside him.

Stiles started as someone randomly sat down with him. He usually sat by himself, as the only person who worked at Clifton’s that he actually spoke to was Lydia, and they rarely had breaks or lunch together.

“Hi.” The woman smiled at him, making him a little uneasy. This was a woman who looked like she could easily snap his neck with one hand, and laugh as she did it. In short, she looked dangerous. “I’m Cora.”

“Nice to meet you.” Stiles said politely, setting his phone down. It’s rude to talk to someone while you’re on your phone. “My name’s Stiles.”

“Weird name.” Cora replied, popping a bubblegum bubble in his face.”

“Not as weird as my actual name. Stiles in a nickname.” he shrugged.

“Wanna be friends?” Cora asked, glancing over his shoulder as Derek slowly made his way out of the break room, stopping only to glance at the two of them curiously, trying to figure out what the hell Cora was planning.

“I mean, I doubt you’d wanna be friends with little ole me but I guess I can’t tell you no. You look like the type that wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Cora smiled that sickly sweet, deadly (at least in Stiles’ opinion) smile again. “No, no I don’t.” she chuckled.

And that was how Stiles found most of his shifts passing by after that. Cora seemed to hunt Stiles down, just to talk to him and learn more about him. He learned more about her too. He found out her last name is Hale, and she was twenty-two years old. She was from a very large family, including a sister and a brother. She worked in the pharmacy department, but was friends with a lot of CAP2 associates and spent most of her time with them.

She learned everything there was to know about Stiles. His family and friends, his age, his history, and (most importantly to her plan), his sexuality.

“You’re gay?” Cora asked about three weeks after introducing herself to him. They were both coming back from lunch, and were headed into the back room to clock in.

“Well, yeah. I figured that was obvious. Most everyone can tell just from looking at me.” he replied, gesturing to his skinny, pale body covered in freckles. Cora smiles a secretive smile. Oh this is going perfectly well.

“How long have you known you’re gay?” she asked, leading the way past the double doors.

“Since I was-“ Stiles’ eyes widened, and he instantly ducked around the corner to the stock room, dragging Cora with him.

“Shit! What the fuck Stiles!” Cora hissed. Stiles shushed her, peeking around the corner to make sure Derek was out of sight.

“I’ve been avoiding this guy that works in Fresh CAP2 for like a month now, I’ve gotta make sure he doesn’t see me.” Stiles explained as he made sure the coast was clear and came out of his hiding spot.

“Fresh CAP....” she muttered, her eyes widening as she theorized, “Is his name Derek, by chance?”

Stiles side-eyed her as he swiped his name badge and hit the clock in button. “Yeah, you know him? Super tall, always looks broody, godly-looks.” Stiles sighed wistfully. “God, what I wouldn’t give to be his bottom.”

Cora wrinkled her nose up in disgust at his last comment, before clocking in herself. She didn’t need to know about Stiles’ fantasies about her brother. Not that he KNEW that was her brother, of course, but she still didn’t wanna hear about it.

“Wait wait wait.” What Stiles had said suddenly clicked in her brain. “If you have a crush on him, WHY are you avoiding him?”

Stiles scoffed. “I do not have a crush on him. I just think he’s very attractive. And domineering. And heaven sent. And-“ Stiles caught the look she was giving him and threw his hands up in defeat. “Okay so maybe I have a little crush on him. It’s very little though! But like, a month ago, I made eye contact with him and I’ve made sure to avoid him seeing me since.”

Cora didn’t bother to hide her confusion. “Why would you avoid him just because you guys made eye contact?” She didn’t understand honestly. What was the big deal?

Stiles bit his lip. “You see....I am a very awkward person, I’m sure you’ve discovered this by now. And I’m not really a very popular person either, or liked honestly.” Stiles bent his head down in shame. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m not worthy of his attention. Not like someone that looks like THAT would ever be interested in someone that looks like me. I know I’m extremely plain-looking. I just don’t want to get hurt by trying to talk to him, or anything and risk embarrassing myself in front of him. And I’m sure he doesn’t want some annoying ass kid bothering him either. I know I’m a bother, everyone tells me that often. I just don’t want HIM to hate me for bothering him, you know?”

If Cora wasn’t such a heartless person, she’d be heartbroken listening to Stiles rant about his worthlessness and being undeserving of an attractive person’s attention. Did he not know that Derek was crazy about him, and has been hurting for quite a bit of time, because of Stiles’ avoidance of him? Derek has ranted and raved to Cora more than once about the cute little apparel associate that stole his heart and has run like a bat out of hell at the sight of him since.

That was why she had befriended Stiles in the first place. She was determined to get to the bottom of Stiles’ apparent hate of her brother, because it hurt her to see her brother so sad over his crush hating him and wanting nothing to do with him.

“And what would you do, if that wasn’t the case?” Cora asked carefully. “What if he was interested in you?”

Stiles laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, right Cora. That’s never going to happen. And I’ve got to get back to the fitting room. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

She nodded in response, watching as the object of Derek’s affection jogged away so as not to get yelled at about being late by his friend Lydia.

That boy sure has a lot of self-deprecation. She thought to herself as she walked out to the produce section in search of her older brother. Maybe a nice loving boyfriend can help fix that. Once I fix this situation they’re in.

Later that night, his shift coming to a close, Stiles was almost done cleaning out the fitting rooms and locking the doors when he heard a throat clearing from the associate’s stall. “Give me just a sec, and I’ll be right with you!” He called over his shoulder, sweeping the dust off the floor into the dustpan and dumping it. He wiped his hands on his pants before turning to face the front of the stalls, ready to assist what he assumed was a customer.

His mouth went dry as he came face to face with the man he’d been avoiding for over a month. “Oh! Hi there. I-I think I hear someone calling my name so im just gonna go that way and never grace your sightagainokaybye!” Stiles spluttered, turning and getting ready to run from this situation of his own making.

“Wait!” Derek called out quickly, skirting around the stall and grabbing Stiles’ wrist before the younger man could get too far. “Why are you avoiding me.”

Stiles froze, so not ready for the Adonis to actually speak to him, let alone confront him about him dodging him. Maybe he doesn’t like being ignored? Yeah that’s gotta be it, he doesn’t like being ignored, therefore Stiles offended him.

“Ah, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you! I just didn’t think you’d want me to be anywhere near you after what I did.” he explained softly, trying to make his self seem as little as possible so as not to set Derek off and possibly make him even more upset.

Derek nearly growled in frustration, running a hand through his short hair. “What you did-Stiles, all you did was look at me! That doesn’t warrant suddenly treating me like I have contagious disease or something.”

Stiles blinked at him owlishly. “How do you know my name?” He wondered aloud. Derek sucked in a breath, almost lying and telling him he read his name badge, before hesitantly deciding to tell the truth. Might as well get the truth out there first.

“Cora.” he confessed.

“Cora?” Stiles echoed. “Has Cora been talking about me? I swear whatever she says isn’t true!”

Derek chuckled, slightly loosening his grip on Stiles’ wrist. “Cora’s my sister, Stiles. She’s heard me talking about the adorable Fitting Room Associate that seemingly hates me, and she took it into her own hands to find out why my crush was acting like I was gum on the bottom of his shoe.”

“Wait, wait, wait. Your crush?” Stiles questioned.

Derek smiles shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes, my crush. I’ve been trying to work up the courage to talk to you for a while now, but then out of nowhere you just started avoiding me. It hurt, you know. And Cora, she’s helpful when she wants to be. So she made it her personal goal to get you to talk to me. She just told me today, why you’ve been doing it. And I wanted to tell you, you don’t have to. I’m not mad, I’m not upset, nothing. I just really want to get to know you better, and possibly have a relationship with you. I really like you Stiles, and I want a shot with you.”

Stiles felt his heart clench in his chest at the thought of his sadness. He didn’t know that he was hurting Derek the more he avoided him. That thought had never crossed his mind.

He slowly reached out and laid his hand on Derek’s that was still holding his arm. “I’m sorry Derek, I didn’t know you actually knew who I was, let alone enough for me to upset you by avoiding you. How can I make it up to you?”

The older man’s whole being seemed to glow with happiness at Stiles’ words. “How about this Friday, if we’re both off, we go to Rudy’s?” Derek asked, his tone very audibly hopeful.

Stiles’ own smile widened at seeing Derek so happy. “It’s a date.” he said slyly, meeting Derek’s beautiful brown eyes.

Looks like Stiles had his very first date coming up soon. And with a hot guy no less. He couldn’t wait to tell Lydia about this.

[alias-b]

Without The Lights~ Billy Hargrove x OC Camille Harper

Chapter 11: There Are Worse Things I Could Do

A/N: Valentine’s Day of 1985 after a terrible school prank. Camille gets some horrid news and comfort from a surprising source. TW: Death, talk of abortion, asshole high schoolers, mental break, and brief self h*rm scene.

    The comments weren’t bad. Oh, no.

    "That's the one... Her."

    "Queen Bee. Queen Bitch."

    "Slut."

    "Wonder who the daddy was."

    "Baby killer."

    "Hargrove better watch out, she traps boys. He'll lose interest now for sure."

    "Camille, the whore, Harper."

   Those were all tragically and hilariously to be expected.

  It was the staring. Those damn eyes. The way she could walk into a room and have it hush. Teachers and students alike. Thinking those thoughts too loudly. Camille marched in. Knowing they were talking about her. Eyes lifted and moved over her body like she’d never get privacy again. Camille was used to being watched. Desired. But, this... Avoiding her face was one thing. Staring direct at her long scraped out womb was another. The attention burned. Lights scorched. No dark corners to curl up and hide away in. And how Camille tried to. She imagined layers of flesh melting away until she was muscle and bone. They would rub salt into the rawness of her wounds.

  Camille turned her nose up to all that shit. Fixed her lipstick. Flicked her hair. Blew bubbles with gum like nothing was around. She spoke up in class. Made herself more visible because she had no choice and she wanted control again. Camille burst with technicolor. Crushed them all. Swayed like a dancer down hallways. Undaunted. By force. But, undaunted nonetheless.

  Billy watched her float. Like nothing could touch her. He found himself wishing that he could float too. Camille tried to sit alone at lunch. Tried. Steve smacked a tray down across from her. Sent a message that nothing had changed. Students watched their king sit and eat, sliding an extra carton of milk over. She’d tried to skip the meal too. Nancy and Jonathan came next, adding crackers and a brownie to the lunch. Billy was on her right after, placing his green apple there. Hadn't lost interest of course. Heather ushered Robin over even and they joined. Camille let herself smile.

  “So, anyone catch Mr. Creed’s new hairpiece? A surprising color.” Steve leaned forward and Heather laughed. He attempted to make his friend feel normal again.

  “I couldn’t even take notes, I was waiting for it to crawl away.”

  “Definitely hiding something,” Jonathan piped up. Camille watched her odd group of friends joke, picking up the apple to bite into it first. Billy shot her a wink so she nudged his leg with her own.

  “I had him last year. Once he got frustrated and ran his hand into it. Flipped half the thing over and finished class like that.” She chuckled finally when they did, encouraged.

  “He’s gotta put that whole collection out of their misery.” Robin added. Camille enjoyed feeling like a teen again. For once. Steve kicked her foot under the table, flashing a smile that set her at ease. It was like this over the next week. Gluing little shards of glass back together. Trying not to slice tired fingers. Rosemary acted as if nothing happened prior. Cooped up in her studio with new designs. Work was better. Better than a daughter who refused to be a daughter. Camille stayed afloat until the ship cracked again. The perfect hive threatened to crumble in.

  Her stupid locker. Still broken. This day, she jerked it open for her chemistry book with Robin next to her, ready to walk to class. Red splashed all down her front. Covered the floor and Robin’s shoes. A bucket of blood red paint clattered, dribbling all over. Camille went into shock, hands lifting while it pooled out. Like most shitty things in her life now. Pooling out. She longed briefly to let it cover all else. Clothing ruined. The crack deepened when Carol pointed to laugh across the way. Ex-popular friends joined in around her. Tommy was cackling, racing away to catch more attention. Billy's foot came out by his locker and the boy tripped hard, smacking the floor. Students ceased their laughter.

  "Eat shit, you little bitch." Billy bared his teeth. Looking utterly feral because that was his default setting.

  "Mad someone got your slut before you did, Hargrove? You'll have to fight every quarterback in Indiana." Tommy dragged backwards but was ripped up, shoved into the lockers. Camille paid no mind.

  "Get the fuck out of here." Billy struggled with his rage and tossed Tommy the other way, arms swiping out to frighten him off. Tommy was Steve's added beefcake muscle once upon a time but he'd be a fool to challenge a fire-breathing hyena like Billy Hargrove.

  “What the hell, Carol?” Robin spoke first back down the hallway. Heather ran along to see her friends. Odd bunch they made. Camille the freak. Robin the weirdo. Baby faced Heather. Billy shoved his locker closed and pushed students to see his friend too.

  “Are you okay? Camille?” Heather was ignored. Baby killer, came some more utters and Camille stalked forth. Carol shut her mouth and cried out when a fist charged right next to her head. Its force dented the locker in. The brass knuckle punch style she'd easily picked up from Billy. Something detached inside Camille. Instead of hitting Carol and crying, she just laughed. Eyes wide. Unstable. It echoed into their school. Demanded respect and attention because this was stone fox Camille Harper here. She laughed louder. How could she not? Her entire life was fucked. It was a lie. Why hide when the cards were all on the table today? More of her friends rounded the hallway in awe.

  “Carol. I should be upset. What a clever, clever prank. How many brain cells did it take between you all? I wonder. But, you know…I’m not mad one little bit. Because I grew out of being a nasty bitch and I know you won’t for a while.” Camille was grinning. Carol looked shocked, tipping back to avoid the paint. “You don’t have to date a shitty ass guy who tries to fuck your friends when you take breaks and hate yourself, you know? Good luck with that. Been there, crawled out.” Camille jerked forward to hug Carol as tight as she could. “We’ll get through it together.” One hand took Carol's jaw. Red swatched her skin before she pushed her backwards after planting a hard, sweet kiss on her cheek. Paint swiped Camille's fingers so she reached up where there wasn’t paint on her shirt and traced an A.

  A scarlet letter.

  “Bitch! Camille, what the fuck? You lost it.” Carol looked down at herself, clothes ruined now too.

  “Bold to assume that I even had it to begin with, babe.” Camille left her, head still high. Hips swaying. Paint splattering. "Well, any of you wet dream drones have anything else to say to me? Now's the fucking time!" Arms swiped, sending spatters of red into nearby students and lockers. Instead the entire crowd parted for her in sync. Moses standing at the damn Red Sea separating it. "I thought so." She puffed, lips lifting to smile because she owned them still. "Robin, sorry about the shoes."

   "You know, I think this could be a great look actually." Robin joked instead, rolling with it because her friend was clinically insane and she adored her now.

  "Right. Now, where is Billy Hargrove? Hm? Don't be shy, sweet face." Camille commanded her drones to part further and reveal him there at the center. Billy had stopped to watch halfway toward her, eyes fixated and huge when he got a better look. "Ah, there you are." She sucked her teeth, clicking her tongue once before she came forth. "Should have smelt the smoky hairspray and warm cologne, it's still to die for." The teen dream stopped in front of him. Everyone was dead silent. Awed. Impressed. Aroused.

      Queen Bee Camille.  

  “Pick me up tonight." Hands on her hips, head cocked. Flirty and unashamed. Splashed bright red. A firework bursting in his life. "Seven o'clock sharp. We are going to the god damn movies. It's a date, just so we're clear. Be prepared to hold the door for me.”

  “You’re the boss, Hester. Wear something red. Color's good on you.” Billy winked, shrugging before he too stepped aside to let her go. Unworried. Happy. Camille left a trail of footprints all down the hallway. She entered the girl’s gym showers in her clothing. Earning shocked looks when she started laughing aloud again and got under cold spray. Cleansed her skin. Red sloshed all down into the drain like the flood of a period. Her clothing was still ruined. They called her mother again to get her. Took an entire load of towels to get her out of the showers without making another mess. Camille was still laughing the whole way.

  It never ended.

** ** **

  “Camille, I’m not sure this is a good idea. You should rest. You've had a rough week.” Rosemary had frowned. Her own palms shook when she clasped them. Camille didn't notice her shaking

  “I’m peachy.” She imagined teeth peeling fuzzy peach skin away to suck the juicy fruit within. That sweetness dripping from soft, plush lips.

  “You’re different.” Rosemary couldn't get her daughter to turn around and just look at her. Not like she used to.

  “I’m different?” The teen huffed and yanked up into the tree in front of their house. Another awful prank. Hung baby dolls from branches. “You going to help me here, mother?”

  “They need me in New York again.” Rosemary resigned herself. Guilt swirled and she pressed her lips. Stared for a long moment, desperate. “Ask me to stay with you, I will.”

  “You're right. I am different.” Camille admitted, head turning. “My eyes are open.” Her mother looked truly unsettled. “Go, they need you. I can handle myself.”

  "I'm so sorry, Camille." Rosemary never said what for. First mistake. Her mother turned to go. "I left you something in the kitchen. Cheer you up. It used to." Camille never went to see what it was. Second mistake. She dumped the toys into their trash bin and prettied herself up. Wore a casual pink dress that slipped from her shoulders with cherries all over it. Small splashes of red. The Camaro howled while she applied the same red to her lips. Billy felt his heart charge when he pulled into the driveway. Finally.

  “Millionth time is the charm, huh?” Camille approached when he got out. "Devil's pride nice still?"

  "Yeah, I'd say so." Billy prettied himself as well, fitted shirt opened halfway and tucked into tight jeans. His preferred style. She smiled at him like nothing was wrong.

  "Shall we?"

  “Chariot awaits,” he cocked his head and offered a single peony from behind his back. Pink. Billy got the door for her and went around to drive them off. Let her pick the flick and he bought the tickets. The Breakfast Club. He only whined a little about it. Camille bought the snacks and they found seats up in back. More teens filled the room before the lights hushed. They took turns snagging popcorn and sips of soda. As much as he rolled his eyes prior, Billy grew invested. Every teen in sight felt it. Damn movie was too relevant. Camille leaned into him, allowing his arm behind her. Idle fingers traced the bare skin of her shoulder. The world let them be blissful teens tonight. For a little while. Third mistake. Credits rolled and he held her hand just like they discussed. Kids filtered out so Camille leaned in to kiss him, inches away before she gasped instead.

  “Hey. Robin and Heather are here. Check it out,” she noticed them down closer to the front. Giggling. Tossing pieces of popcorn while they joked and stood. Heather looped her arm into Robin’s. Grins followed.

  “Didn’t know they were actually close friends now. Lab partners or whatever.” Billy shrugged and Camille had to cover her lips. “What?”

  “Boys are so oblivious, come on. To the diner.” She tugged at his hand to go down the steps.

  "As you wish." Billy pulled her into him, earning a slight giggle. Chilly air swept and his leather jacket was already around her.

  “Camille!” Heather caught them exiting the doors, hand leaving Robin’s quicker than intended. Camille peered at the space between them, eyes lifting.

  “Heather…hi. Nice to see you both. Fine night compared to earlier, yeah?”

  “Yes. Sorry, we didn’t know you guys were up there. I would have said hi. Great movie, right?” Heather continued.

  “I loved it and so did Billy, despite the whining.” Camille joked, patting his chest. “Hey, Robin.”

  “Hey…” Cold wind passed them so Camille brought Billy’s jacket closer.

  “You got Billy to sit through that, impressive.” Heather was entertained.

  “Just wait till you see my other tricks,” Billy lit up a cigarette behind his date.

  “Okay, on that note, you guys…have a good time.” Camille kissed her friend's cheek, winking. Heather gave an honest smile, relaxing again.

  “Thanks, Camille.”

  “We’ll see you two in class, yeah.” Robin crossed her arms. “Now do the trick where you disappear, if you could.”

  “Love that one,” Billy pressed Camille’s back when she gave Heather a knowing look of encouragement. He drove her to the diner and they found a corner booth. “Large milkshake. Chocolate. Side of fries.” He told the waiter. “Well, Harpy, we covered it, didn’t we?”

  “What?”

  “We angrily laid this out in detail months ago. Hit all the important points.”

  “Hm, I think there is always room to improvise.” She purred, chin resting in her hand as she leaned over.

  “Oh, say improvise again.”

  “No,” Camille laughed when he gave that world melting smile. Food was set down. Billy snagged some fries and shifted the plate between them. She sipped and hummed blissfully. “I’m going to have that song from the movie trapped in my head for weeks.” Camille plucked up a hot fry to eat.

  “Thought it was funny us going to see that? Criminal and princess.”

  “I didn’t plan that,” she grew amused. “Didn’t know the movie would be like that. Frankly though, I’m starting to think I’m more of a basket case now.”

  “Can’t argue there,” Billy dodged a fry at that, laughing before he stole her milkshake. "Queenie is buzzing along a very fine line."

  "Suppose I feel like I have wings today." Camille gave a shrug. "Guess that I also wanted to bring up more of the wildly unhinged me who told her ex to eat shit."

  “Hey, look, I know you’re all smiles now and great. But…”

  “Disgraced bee flew too close to the sun.” Camille rolled her eyes and sat back. “I’m not faking it for you. I don't do that with or for boys, rest assured. These last two weeks have been…fucking awful. But, I’m on a date with a guy I care about and I think it’s going well.”

  “We talking B minus work?” He gaze at her closely.

  “Oh no, I think you’re on your way to a solid A plus with extra credit. Gold star work.” She joked. It was intoxicating even still. The way he smiled at her. Charming as hell. Lighter. Easy. Slow and steady, her hand came to touch his. Fingers curling. Eyes met and they stayed to enjoy the lingering beat between them. “I want to try something.”

  “You do?” Billy’s brow furrowed and she wasn’t hesitant.

  “I want to try it back at my place.” They scrambled to pay and go. Rain splattered lightly so he pulled her by the hand. Hair and clothing damp. Unable to resist, Billy yanked her into his chest. Hands on her wet face to kiss her there under rain and stars. Camille responded, pulling at him until they both laughed and continued to his car. Giggling teens on a date. Nothing to lose. So they thought. Billy sped while she slid over and placed playful, teasing kisses on his neck.

  “Harpy, I’m supposed to be setting a better example when I drive.” He’d joked, stilling to kiss her again at a red light. Hands smoothed along his thigh and they couldn’t park fast enough in her driveway. “Hey.”

  “Hm?” Camille was still in Billy's neck, palms sliding up his chest.

  “Look.” He pointed. Jim Hopper’s Blazer sat parked in front. The Chief was waiting, snuffing out a cigarette before Camille hurried out on unsteady feet.

  “Jim.” She felt a gust of cold crackle up her spine when he lifted his eyes. Rain stilled. "How long have you been here?"

  "Not long." He stared at them, clearly on a date and worked up. Camille came down fast.

  "What are you doing here, Jim?" She'd asked it quieter.

  “Camille, I think we should talk inside.” His palm was on her back to guide her forth. Camille's hand slipped from Billy's and they mourned that.

  “What happened?” She pressed, struggling to open the door.

  “Hargrove, give us a moment.”

  “No, Billy, come inside. You can say it to both of us.” Camille marched up to him while he took his hat off. A motion that appeared grave. Billy shut the door, his own flesh chilled when rain dripped from his curls. “Say it.”

  “Camille.”

  “Say it!” She barked at him, echoing in that empty house. Jim’s eyes drew to her own.

  “It’s Judith.” He crumbled her world. “I’ve been checking on her and-”

  “No, don’t you fucking…lie. Don't you lie to my face. It's fine. She's fine.” Tears welled. She got smaller. “You were supposed to protect her.”

  "I'm so sorry, I only heard a few hours ago. We've had people on her I trust. There... Something happened."

  "It's a mistake. No...No! You don't know shit. You're nothing but...a fuck up. You're just a fuck up!" She spat and he remained tender while her rage filtering out at him. "You are a liar."

  “She’s gone, Camille.” He was pushed hard at that.

  “Shut the fuck up…she didn’t… I knew they’d come for her! Another loose end to torment me with.” Camille couldn’t catch a breath, stumbling back before he took her arms. The dark secrets she kept. The life she had. The mother she never got to know. Gone. Gone. Gone. It all just fluttered. “Ngh, no!”

  “She passed, Camille. They confirmed it. I saw the certificate. Photos. Everything.”

  “How?”

  “Camille.”

  “How did she die?!” She screamed it. Echoing again. Billy pressed back into the door. His face felt impossibly hot.

  “They say she did it herself.”

  “They say…? A gentle, manic woman who never spoke and just spent her days rocking.” Camille broke. “So they killed her. They fucking killed my mother. Just to ruin me further. They know I can't mourn it. They know I saw her and they know I have to hide. Fucking, they killed us both. Again and again. Finally finished her off. It's because I found her. It's my fault.”

  “You didn't do this. There was something. Small. Carved into her arm. Three numbers.” Jim reached again to stop Camille from falling. “Hey, you have to breathe. Easy.”

  “No, she’s not… She can’t…” Camille was beating on his broad chest. “Lies! Lies! You’re a liar! A shitty, awful liar. I hate you! You fuck up! You were supposed to watch her. You...”

  “Camille,” Billy found his own voice, hands up to pull her off Chief Hopper’s towering frame. She slipped out of his jacket.

  “No, no, it isn’t true.” Camille rushed beyond them, tearing up the stairs. She saw her room empty. Kicked bedroom doors open. They pursued to stop her, forces jerked them aside. Her nose bled. “Can’t… It can’t be right.” Camille rushed down the stairs again. Nothing in the living room. She stopped in the kitchen when she saw them. The gift. To cheer her up. Confirming her worst fears. A vase of bright, freshly cut sunflowers left by her mother. An apology and a confession. She’d known. “No, no…no.” A wail tore. Shook the whole house before she lifted the entire thing to smash them. Yellow petals exploded around her feet. The doors slammed to the room when she fell to her knees. A sharp shard cut into her palm before she lost herself and dug it into skin. Eyes wide and unfocused. Three tiny numbers bled out.

  “Hey!” Jim pounded at the door, kicking it open when she relented before he tore her up from the floor. “Knock it off!” Camille dragged and wished to bring the entire house down. He held her arms tight so she bucked around and wailed again. Everything took too much of a toll on Camille. This was the last straw. Rosemary stared at her eyes earlier and knew. Knew what would come. And Camille would have to smile upon seeing her when she came home.

  Billy’s hands were on her face. He was talking too fast for her to process. He slipped away when she fell back into Jim, sobs barely subsiding because she was exhausted. Fingers gripped her forearm and Billy was tying a towel around it.

  “Go pack her a bag. She’s not well, I’m taking her home. Hurry.” Jim pulled her to her feet, half carrying her into the living room to put her on the couch. They cleaned the mess without words and got her into Jim’s car. Her cries silenced when the door shut. Billy found the silent wails of agony more horrific from outside the car.

  “Kid, I’ll handle it from here. Get yourself home.“

  “Fuck that, I’m sticking with her.” Billy edged forward. "You don't know her."

  “Billy, you helped. You did.” Jim eased. Billy didn’t jerk when a hand touched his shoulder. “What Camille needs is to process this. She needs rest.”

  “After she found her mother the first time, she stuffed herself with pills. I made her throw them up, she took so damn many. I am not…” Billy felt himself tremble. Jim understood, nodding. Watch her. “We were happy.”

  “Yeah, you’re good kids. You are. Just trying to make it better and you will. Camille needs to rest and she isn't safe to be alone in this house. Give it some time. Give her some time. Things still bad at school?”

  “Hung babies and red paint aren’t exactly welcoming.”

  “I’ll handle it. Go home. Let me take care of her, I know enough and if she's like El: her abilities could lash out. I’ll call if anything happens. All right? I'll call you first,” Jim pressed him to leave and he finally did. Billy didn’t drive home, instead he was stumbling up to another door. Bell rang and Steve Harrington looked confused.

  “Hey, man…you lost?” Steve didn’t see anyone behind him. Billy looked like utter shit. “You do know this is my house, right?”

  "Yes, asshole, I fucking know which-"

  "Okay, good talk," Steve moved to shut the door and Billy dropped the anger.

  "Wait..." Billy's foot stopped him. Steve sighed and pulled it back open.

  "Try again, pal." He waited so Billy changed his tone.

  “You got alcohol in there?”

  “Parents are gone to the weekend, uh…yeah.” Steve relented then stepped aside. “What’s going on?”

  “Start pouring first.”

** ** **

  “Camille.” El was excited until she saw her expression.

  “El, give her a moment.” Hopper guided the mute teen into their little cabin. His puffy police coat over her frame. “Pull out the couch for her.”

  “What happened?” El asked instead when Hopper got Camille into the bathroom. The door shut so he helped fix the couch into a bed. Eleven brought extra pillows and saw him locking up knives and pills. “Why?”

  “Camille is incredibly upset.” Jim explained it carefully. “Her mother. Real mother…she passed away.”

  “Gone.”

  “Yeah,” Jim swept the young girl under his arm. “We have to be careful with her. She’s hurting. Sometimes when people hurt…they take it out on themselves. She’s going to stay here a few nights while Rosemary is out.”

  “I can watch her.” El promised and Jim pressed a smile, rubbing her shoulders. Camille looked numb when she appeared. El hurried to take her hand and get her to lie down. “I’m sorry…about your mama.” Camille hated herself for the tiniest thought that maybe it was for the best. The older teen peered at her and nodded while El turned on the TV for her. Noise to fill the voids in the room. Jim pulled a chair up to unwrap her wrist. It took a moment for the little girl to realize Camille did it to herself.

  “Give us a moment,” Jim nodded so El went into her room. He cleaned the cuts and applied ointment while she reclined there. “Wanted the scar.”

  “They erased me.”

  “Six isn’t who you are, Camille.”

  “Guess I’m not really sure what I am any longer. Queen bee. Freak. Slut. Six. Baby killer. Always the fucking brands.” She paused. “Sorry, you lost your daughter.”

  “Two completely different scenarios, Camille, you’re not a bad person and I wrote the book on fucking up. No room to judge a teenage girl for making a terrifying and informed choice about her body.” Jim got up and pulled something from his coat pocket. “They sent me this with the certificate.” The tiny Star of David necklace. She let him clasp it so it could hang down low with Billy’s pendant.

  “Thank you.” She welled up and closed her eyes to still it.

  “She loved you. She did.” Jim touched her hair. "I'll let you have some space."

  "Wait," she sniffled, cracking. "Can you just hold me for a little bit?" Jim stilled, air leaving his nose before he sat back down. Awkwardly, she came up to scoot into his arms when he sat on the edge of the mattress. Jim floundered a little too, uncertain. She adjusted half in his lap. Camille pressed into him when he held her tighter, arms up against his chest. Inhaling the scent of him. Nothing like her own adopted father. Long rotting in the ground. She still closed her eyes to pretend. She wondered what her real father smelled like. Maybe something like this. Crisp. Safe. Jim rocked her when she began to shake in his arms. They melted more together. He cupped the back of her head so she lifted it to look at him. Small. Fingers smoothing idly into the fabric of his shirt as his thumb caught a single tear. "You're not a fuck up." She rasped then. Lips pressed at that.

  “Get some rest, Camille.” He offered, tucking long hair aside. She eased herself back into the mattress. El came out in her pajamas to crawl in next to Camille.

  “I can watch her,” El stated again when Camille was lulled to sleep. Jim stayed there petting her head until El took over. The little girl kissed her hair like Jim had done to her many times before to comfort her too. Hopper went to his room and left El curled into her sister. They looked peaceful.

** ** **

  “Hello?” Nancy was groggy when she received a call.

  “Hey, uh, Nancy, it’s Steven,” Steve snorted into the phone and Nancy was alert.

  “Steve? It’s late. Are you drunk?”

  “I’m the moral support, Nance.” Steve was trying to quiet someone behind him. “I have every single thing in my life...super under control.”

  “Oh, my god. Where are you?”

  “Home, near the pool. Um, Nancy, I did…something bad.” Steve slurred. “Remember how we dated for like a year? Wild. I was a shitty boyfriend.”

  “No, Steve, you really weren’t. Not at all.” Nancy was up, Jonathan lifted his eyes in question across from her.

  “Couldn’t even beat the keg king, a little girl had to step in. She’s like…way cooler than me. I think Max is the real keg king at heart.” Steve was laughing and Billy snorted, seated in a lawn chair near him. “I…am just calling…wait, why am I calling again?”

  “Camille…needs her fucking band of annoying nerds. The party. That thing…she doesn’t,” Billy hiccuped, plastered, “I’m not enough, ah, and I never will be.”

  “Billy wants to have a party.” Steve was laughing.

  “Billy? You’re drunk with Billy Hargrove?” Nancy smacked Jonathan’s shoulder to get him moving.

  "Ow!"

  “We’re coming over. Now.”

  “You’re with Jonathan, that’s hilarious.” He cackled. “Byers! He kicked my ass too!”

  “He told me!” Billy fell back, grinning.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” Nancy smacked the phone down. “Come on.” Back at Steve’s, he fell into a pool side chair.

  “She could def...definitely not even tell I’d been drinking. I’m…sneaky like a ninja.” Steve reclined back.

  “Shit is fucking wild, man. How did I get here? Look at them.” Billy watched the hundreds of stars dance in his state, lulling about.

  “You…are a fucking asshole.” Steve was swatting for him, hitting only air.

  “Yeah, I am.” They tried to high five and missed that too. “Pissed off a junior demolished you at everything you love?”

  “Beside the point. You’re like…like a real…huge asshole. But, you’re also not so bad. You know? I just…can’t fight for shit. And you somehow became friends with Camille Harper. My friend. My queen friend.” Steve was laughing again.

  “She tricked me into her intr...intricate friendship rituals.”

  “Oh, she does that shit. We all fall for it. You especially. And…you…you beat the shit out of me and then your kid sister stole your car. What the fuck was all that?”

  “What the fuck was that?” Billy agreed, head tipping. Nancy and Jonathan sped there, coming around back to see the two wasted boys.

  “Ayy! It’s Nancy! Nancy…!” Steve clapped. Billy was trying and failing to light a cigarette. They hollered in sync so she shushed them.

  “Hey, zip it! Both of you.” Nancy ordered. “What is this?”

  “If Camille were here it would be exactly…like…The Breakfast Club.” Billy started cackling and Steve joined him. “New party name, you fucking nerds.”

  “This guy is hilarious, he’s so right. So…right…”  

  “Hey, hey focus.” Nancy picked up a spray bottle for the window flowers and hit them both with water. They hissed and whipped around to avoid the cold like a pair of cats. Billy’s cigarette sizzled out so he flicked it, giving up. Jonathan covered his lips and tried not to laugh at this all. “What happened? Where is Camille?”

  “Police Chief kidnapped her mid date.” Billy had his hands up when she threatened them again with the spray bottle.

  “Why?” Jonathan stepped forward. Billy blinked as some awareness came back.

  “Bad thing… Her, fuck shit… Her mother. They got her.”

  “Her mom? Rosemary?”

  “No. One in the hospital.” Steve played with his shirt. “She didn’t make it.” Nancy lowered the bottle, realizing.

  “Oh, no… Where is Camille now?”

  “Hopper just…whiskered her away. Adopting another one probably.” Steve tried to sit up and Jonathan hurried to assist him.

  "You need a bed, come on."

  "Hey pal, I may have let you kick my ass but, you are not qualified to tuck me in." Steve dragged with him. Billy stared at the pool with a harder expression, lights fluttered on his face. Made him look almost ethereal.

  “We gotta get them inside.” Jonathan was helping poor Steve along still. Billy managed to sit up more and Nancy saw a flower in his hand. Camille had left it in the car. He stared at the petals and leaned to drop it into the pool. Water shifted with ripples. Billy watched them carefully so Nancy crossed over.

  “Billy, you’re not looking well. You need to get inside.” She and Jonathan heaved Billy to his feet next. "There we go." He stumbled and made an odd sound. Nancy realized that he was sniffling. She saw nausea sweep his expression and they hurried him into the bathroom so he could throw up. “Jonathan, water.” He rushed to find a glass. “Here…” Nancy was wiping Billy’s slack lips with a wet rag. He pressed his cheek to the seat and tried to overcome the sensation, moaning. Teeth clenched when another feeling flooded him. Nancy gave his back an awkward pat. “It’s okay.” She took the water from Jonathan and helped him drink. “Check on Steve.”

  “Got it.” Jonathan left again. Billy slipped against the wall, room spinning. Nancy squatted down barely a few feet away, arms crossed over her knees.

  “Don’t have to stay here with me, Wheeler.”

  “I know.” Nancy shrugged. Not the night she imagined. Not the person she imagined comforting. “Don’t mind it if you don’t though.”

  He blinked and didn’t say anything, eyes glazed.

  “So, Hopper’s watching her?” She saw Billy nod. “And you guys had a date tonight.”

  “I think I was decent.” His voice was quiet. Raw.

  “I bet that you were.” Nancy pressed her lips and he flickered his eyes over her face, opening up.

  “Not supposed to see her. Whole tutoring lie is only going to go so far. My dad doesn’t like it. But, I like it.” He slurred, eyes closing. “Another round with the belt when he finds out. Story of my fucking life. Maybe I deserve it, I was a shithead. I still am.” Nancy’s eyes changed.

  “He hits you. I mean…we all had some idea about it. Ah...you don’t deserve it, all right? And you don’t have to go back there, you know.”

  “All that wishful thinking. If I don’t, he’ll want someone else to hit. He’ll hunt me down. I tried to run before. Long time ago. Learned quick. I can't. Dad wins.” Billy numbed. “Didn’t want to care.”

  “You’re different. We all see it. Good different.” Nancy offered. Familiar words touched the world. “My friend changed too. Before and after your family got here. I did also and so did Jonathan and Steve. We all did stupid teenage things.”

  “Some of us did worse than others.”

  "We all hurt people." Nancy admitted, eyes flickering. "My friend died because of me and I can't take that back. I can only do better. Never let it happen to someone else."

  "She died because a monster grabbed her." Billy swallowed bile, chest heaving. "I used to be a monster too. Grabbing people. Squeezing. Laughing about it after."

  “What Camille sees in you now…it makes her happy. What Max sees in you makes her happier as well.” Nancy offered, careful. Billy lulled with an amused scoff to hide the way his tone thickened.

  “My mom didn’t see it. Why won’t my dad see it either?” Billy cringed this time, lips trembling and eyes filling to the brim.

  “It’s…going to be okay. It’s going to get better. I know how that sounds. But, not just for you alone. But, for you and Max. Camille. All of us. Because we have this…amazing group and we’re trying so hard despite everything. Even when we want to stop.”

  “I’m not…I’m not crying over my dad. He’s never…going to love me. Just, fuck him. Fuck him for me and Max and Susan…and…my mom. Fuck him! Fuck. Can’t touch anything. Can’t be touched. Fuck him. I’m crying…because…because, I…”

  “Billy, it’s okay. Just breathe.” Nancy offered him some tissue.

  “I can’t. Can’t stand to. I’m finally awake.” Billy wept, the airy syllables barely connected. “I love her.” He’d squeaked it like a mouse, fists rose to touch his head while he crumbled. Nancy stayed there with him to share the space. Let him weep. When he was calmer, she nodded to affirm that he was perfectly sane through the hurt.

  “I know you do.”

[metalchick19-blog]

The Bowers Gang: Ship #9 - Victor Criss

Request: Alrighty I’ll have you ship me with whoever you think personally~ my hair is blonde and I’m short asl, but I also have a tattoo of a black rose on the side of my wrist. A lot of my friends tell me that I can always make them laugh with what I say or do and a lot of them will often come to me for advice or if they need to rant about something, which honestly just makes me feel even better as a person. I’m someone who will always stand by you if you’ve never done me dirty and need help. I do have a goofy side that only my closest friends see everyday, which is honestly sometimes just me as person. I think of myself as a fairly outgoing person and I’m never one to just stand in the corner of a party. Some things I need to work on are opening up to other people when talking about feelings and problems I have instead of just bottling them up. If there’s someone that I don’t like, I make it very clear and can be totally heartless towards them. I can also stress myself out easily and get overwhelmed by everything that’s going on. I’ve been through some shit, so I have a better understanding of other people’s hardships than most people. Being friends with me means that you always have someone to go to for laughs, but also someone who won’t sugar coat anything for you. Being in a relationship with me means you’ll actually have someone devoted to you and fun times, but you also gotta break down any walls built up. To put it into simpler terms, I’m a pretty chill person who goes with the flow but can get serious when it comes to something that’s important to me and I need to do. A couple of facts about me is that I want to be an elementary school teacher (I love kids so much, more than people my age tbh), I smoke the devils lettuce damn near hourly on a daily (fuck getting drunk, getting high is better), I love going to the beach, driving around downtown with friends, or just taking time to myself in my room to listen to music!

Always traces your rose tattoo absentmindedly when you cuddle/sit next to each other

Finds your transparency hot as hell, because he sees it as an indication of how honest you are 

So appreciates the shit out of it, even when you’re being a total icy bitch to someone he doesn’t even know (and learns to assume you have your reasons when he doesn’t understand why)

The guys gave you a designated seat in the Trans-Am because you drive around with them after school so often (like the trooper you are) 

You’re on the far left, behind Belch, with Victor in the middle between you and Patrick (very much on purpose)

Victor sometimes comes over to people’s houses to keep you company while you babysit (the ol’ “sneak in the boyfriend routine”)...

... and actually helps with the sitting of the baby, rather than expecting to fuck and/or sit and watch movies like some other teen delinquents we know 

But seriously - Victor is straight-up the daddy to your mommy whenever you guys watch kids together, and it’s truly one of the loveliest things ever

Tends to start off awkward at first (he’s very friendly with kids, but has a hard time talking to them in ways they understand since he can’t “dumb down” his language), but always ends up being their literal favorite person by the time the night is over (apart from you, of course)

Entirely because Criss makes funny faces like a pro, keeps the small ones entertained while you warm up dinner, and ties shoes singing the bunny ears song and everything 

I.e. He’s “the fun guy”

Also demonstrates an inside voice like nobody’s business, and slides a coaster under every drink (house rules = respected) 

Also steps up to do some of the disciplinary things when you can’t get a specific smol one to listen to you 

... and is low-key a toddler whisperer about it too

When he has to be the disciplinarian, Victor always just kneels down to the tiny kid’s eye-level (regardless of whether they’re screaming, crying, or otherwise), and casually starts talking to them as if they understand every adult word that’s coming out of his mouth

Which most of them couldn’t possibly do, because toddlers 

... But, from the moment they make eye contact with him, the majority of kids go completely serene and just stare at Victor like they do understand what he’s saying, and clean up their act right after he “discusses it” with them

The guy seriously somehow stops all tears/whining/unacceptable behavior just by being like “hey, that’s not cool dude, and here’s why”

It’s legitimately random to the point of being annoying, because there’s no reason getting children in line should be that easy for him (considering it’s insanely difficult for some people that actually have kids)

You insist that the lil’ buns are just reflecting Victor’s calm nature, but his smug smile will always indicate he low-key thinks he’s better at child-care than you

... Which you know isn’t true, but we’ll let him think what he wants to think

He finds it really endearing how well you get along with kids though, and thinks it’s adorable that you’re able to connect with them so easily

You’re the first person he’s ever been with who’s made him think, “She’ll be a really great Mom someday,” and that’s beautiful 

You make Victor smile in the moments when he truly gets down on himself

This is a pretty big deal, because he tends to feel the fuck out of things regardless of the emotion

It’s impossible for the majority of people to sway Victor’s mood at all when he’s upset, because it always settles over him so heavily...

... but you somehow do the trick.

Your goofy nature usually bounces off of him at first (he stays in his head, and doesn’t give much response to most of your humor for a while), but you always eventually say something that strikes a cord with him, and elicits a small smirk

... which eventually leads to a smile, which leads to a laugh, which ultimately leads to you talking out his issues with him and lifting his spirits

You’re seriously one of Criss’ main emotional outlets, and I wish I could shake your hand, cause’ that’s an honor 

This isn’t a one-way street, though - Victor does the same for you

He noticed early on (before you were even together) that you only tended to talk about positive things/ “surface level” information even after you had been hanging out with the guys for a long time

And to him (i.e. the group psychologist), that made it clear you were trying to keep your distance by not sharing your problems or talking about things that were really important to you

So he made a point of being there for you x1,000,000 when you officially got together 

Example: He knows you won’t bring up any of your issues unprompted, so Victor asks how your day is going at every given opportunity

Aka: he provides a chance for you to tell him something’s bugging you

He also jumps on it whenever you show any visible signs of being sad, and straight-up asks you to tell him what you’re feeling because real men aren’t afraid to talk about that jazz 

Even though it took time for you to get used to it (i.e. sharing your emotions), it’s now something that’s become a reflex for you

You’ve cried on Victor’s shoulder, shared your previous traumas, let him see you at the peak of rage, and he’s done the same with you; there’s nothing left to hide 

The two of you have seriously reached a point where you could tell one another anything on the spot

You’re each other’s permanent comfort and support - simple as that.

When one of you is feeling especially down though, or when you both just feel you’ve earned a break from life (i.e. after exams, or during spring/winter break), you and Victor have “intensive care” smoke sessions at his house

...Tastefully named “intensive care” smoke sessions by the both of you

This basically means hot-boxing Victor’s room all day long (fucking glorious), watching movies in his bed, and playing whatever tapes you want on full blast at random intervals throughout the day

The two of you cycle between just sitting and listening to the music (typically at the peak of your high, when you’re both brain-dead), to talking about incredibly philosophical/incredibly stupid things (”who closes the bus door after the bus driver gets off?”), to raiding Victor’s fridge for munchies until you eventually empty it and have to walk into town for more 

Side-note: Victor is smooth as fuck when it comes to being high and acting normal in public

Whenever you guys order food anywhere after you’ve already smoked, he’s always the one who speaks because he never stutters, breaks eye contact, or forgets what he’s saying in the middle

You’ve even seen him get into full, logically sound conversations with people just minutes after taking a bong rip in the Trans-Am (group smoke sessions are a thing too)

The guy legit held it together even when his parents came home in the middle of your smoke session once, and introduced you normally even though you were having a level 10 panic attack, and were not subtle about it (those darting high person eyes were all over the place) 

In short, he can basically just revert back to being sober again whenever he wants to, and it’s a major turn-on for stoners everywhere. 

*Pointless side-note ended*

You try to get Victor to socialize at the 2-3 house parties Henry forces you all to each month, but he won’t do it

Just stands next to you, quietly sipping his beer and letting his attention drift around the room

Fields small-talk when he has to (he’s not shy or unapproachable - just introverted), but usually just prefers to be the handsome guy standing next to you while you own the spotlight

You’ll forever be the majestic, sociable party dom with a dry-humored wallflower for a boyfriend - enjoy

... he looks at you a lot while you talk to people though, and it’s so obvious he’s thinking about how beautiful you are, because his eyes make it clear he’s focusing on your face rather than your words 

So many girls in Derry High hate you because of adorable crap like this - there’s a lot of salt over Victor Criss being so thoroughly taken by someone

Patrick often tries to break you away from Victor at parties, because, like you, he talks easily and likes to try to get into shit (and because he thinks you’re hot/would love to take a girl away from Victor using only the power of his penis)

He’ll randomly show up next you when you’re getting another drink, going to the bathroom... or, really, doing anything other than talking to Victor

...At which point he propositions the shit out of you, and tries to convince you to come upstairs

This has never worked out well for him.

You did play a legitimately sick game of beer-pong together once after you got him to stop coming onto you (for a second), but that was just because you were already buzzed, and felt unusually tolerant towards him

So even though you usually reject him wholeheartedly (and somewhat loudly/angrily), you two will always be remembered as the life of post-homecoming blowout, 1987 (where you made every single shot, and didn’t have to take even one drink between the two of you)

... Still doesn’t change the fact that he’s trying to do you though, and that you’re too loyal to Victor to be feeling it 

Even though he won’t participate in other ways when it comes to parties, Victor always dances with you, because he has a specific thing for watching you move to house music

You asked him about it once, and he just said he thinks it’s beautiful because it “accentuates your purity”

If you don’t get what he means, you’re in good company - the guy has an artsy soul.

Interesting side-note: Like Patrick, Henry has low-key wanted to sleep with you from the moment he first saw you, but keeps it heavily under wraps in the interest of not screwing up you and Victor’s relationship 

He doesn’t talk to you much, and has a hard time maintaining eye contact even when he does (because guilt and attraction)

Essentially decided that abstinence is key where you’re concerned, and tries not to form much of a connection with you so it’s easier to control himself

Avoids being left alone with you at all costs, and doesn’t acknowledge you much in general

... He eyes you a lot when he gets drunk though (most often, at the parties you go to)

No words, but enough wasted leering to make it clear where his head is at

 It’s never escalated into anything, but it’s something you notice.

... And you’ve never told Victor in the interest of preserving their friendship. 

* Interesting side-note ended *

Victor tried to take you on a private date to the quarry once (because you’d always told him about how badly you wished there was a beach in Derry), but the guys found out and showed up unexpectedly as soon as the two of you hit the water

... And it was actually your first date.

Meaning Criss was not at all entertained by that bandwagony bullshit.

They literally just came to see you in a bathing suit (hence why they came out of hiding only after you’d gotten in the water), and you’re such a bad bitch that you called them out on it rather than let it be 

... But that just earned a predictably creepy affirmation from Patrick (”What, you thought we were gonna’ let Criss keep a body like that all to himself?” *Disgusting Hockstetter cackle as Victor death-stares him into oblivion*), and didn’t amount to anything more than obnoxious laughter on Henry and Belch’s part 

Long story short, the guys all stampeded into the water with you, and swimming for 2 became swimming for 5

So, yeah. First date was a group date, and no one was thrilled.

Because of what you’ve been through in life, you understand some of the fucked up situations Victor has experienced better than most other people; as a result of that, you have a unique understanding of his hot/cold feelings about the gang

I.e. You get why it isn’t just black and white for him - other people may see the guys as straight-up evil, but it’s different for Victor, and you get that

Essentially you understand that he’s a ride or die (because genuine loyalty), but that he’s also ready to jump ship in the interest of not becoming something he isn’t; he’s never been able to express that to anyone else 

Because you get why Victor feels moved to leave the gang sometimes (and partly because of your own experiences with them), you support him in that direction whenever he mentions it

Being that you don’t sugarcoat things, you confirm for him that the guys aren’t people that would be good for his adult life - he’s always thought that in his head, but has never had another person around who knew the guys personally to corroborate the opinion

Meaning, now that the opinion has been corroborated, it’s kind of huge for him

You may ultimately be the thing that gives Victor the strength he needed to leave the guys, because you help cement his view that it would be the right thing to do

Plus, his relationship with you would fulfill him to an extent where he wouldn’t feel as attached to the gang as before, and he would see himself as being much happier in a future with you than in a future with them

In short, you might change the course of Victor Criss’s entire life - have fun being the best thing that’s ever happened to him

[bakerandred]

Mark Normand on his Evil Brain

Transcription

I don't know, that's just me, I worry about everything. I got really bad anxiety. Horrible anxiety. Riddled with anxiety. I live in the city, I don't have a car, i just walk around everywhere. Uhh. You guys ever do this one, you guys ever leave the house without headphones? Wooh! Thoughts are not good! My God, this whole time I thought I loved music, turns out I just hate my brain. Just being attacked all day long by this insecurity playlist on shuffle. Ah "what are you doing with your life, you drink too much, you're gonna die alone, you call that a penis?" Aah! Oh, bad head. My brain is evil, it attacks me, it's like a bully. I'll be at a party, hanging out  everybody's having a good time, talking. My brains like, "hey you weirdo, you're being too quiet. Everybody's wondering why you're such a quiet weirdo. Come on, get in there, say something you lunatic, come on you freak, jump in you psycho, come on get in there. You finally say something, your brain'll go, "ooh, that's what you picked?" Argh, shut up dummy, dammit. My brain never stops. I cant sleep at night, I'm a horrible sleeper. that's why I hate these bed commercials you see at 4am. "Hey! can't sleep? Well how comfortable is your mattress? What's your sleep number, how's your firmness?" You think 'lack of comfort's' what's keeping me up at night, that's the problem really? It's this goddamn Japanese game-show i got going on up here right. The worry, the anxiety, the dread. I don't need a mattress designed by NASA, i need a Xanax and some self esteem. Come on, comfort? i could sleep on a gravel road if i had a good childhood. Brain never stops. That's why i never got these guys that go, "hey i'm going to bed". What do you mean 'going to bed'? i gotta pass out, i cant just go to bed alright? What are you cray- you want me to lay alone in my room, in the dark, in my underwear that's what screwed me up in the first place! Brutal. i don't think i'm depressed though. I wouldn't say i'm depressed, although the symptoms of depression; binge drinking, hard to get out of bed, avoiding people, those are the things that make me the most happy. They always show these commercials, some guy's depressed, pops a pill, now hes skydiving, riding a convertible. Then they show the depressed guy, he's in bed with a bunch of pizza boxes, I'm like, that's living! Yeah, i'm an awkward guy, very awkward, can't make eye contact with people. See, that was tough. I'm working on it, its too intense, too intimate. I don't know how you people do this, you know? it's like a sign of respect to look someone in the eye, blows my mind! It's too much, can't do it. Every time i look someone in the eye i'm like well, guess we're in love now. I feel too much, i'm a feely guy, everything makes me uncomfortable. Certain words are hard to say, make me feel too weird, 'I love you' ah that's tough. huh. i can't say it, i can barely say 'croissant'. What a horrible word, so pretentious. Good lord, i can barely order one, they look amazing! i'm like, "i'll take uuuh, muffin, screw it. Socially awkward, i know i'm socially awkward cos i asked my friend what his biggest fear was and he said losing his child. He said, "what's your biggest fear Mark i said, huh, "accidentally hitting the facetime button on my phone." Is there a more terrifying moment in life than that? I cant have people see me when i'm not ready. I've got weird stuff going off in my room. I'm eating tuna out of a can. I've got half a boner, an old yearbook open,  its weird. yeah oh man too much oh yeah. I'm an introvert, any introverts here? Crowd "Woo". Ayy alright, you guys rarely speak up. Yeah, not fun being an introvert. You know, you just gotta get out there and fake it. It's hard  around people most people like being around people. For us it's like work, it's tough. Like this is an introvert's biggest fear right here. You're hanging out with some guy you don't really know. "Alright, good hanging out, i'm gonna take the train home." This guy goes, "oh yeah? what train you taking" "Uuh, i was gonna take the number six." "Hey, me too" FUCK! Dammit, back on the clock. Tough to be around people. Day jobs, i don't know how you guys do it. 9 to 5. 8 hours with this group then five out clock rolls round and some guy goes, "hey we should all get drinks!" What, are you nuts? You wanna hang around  more we're done, we did it. We're outside the walls, let's go home. That's not happy hour, that's unpaid overtime. Yeah, we like being alone, we do. You ever go out to eat with a guy, he's like, "hey look at that dude sitting by himself." You're like, "i know, living the dream!" Just a weird brain i got, like i want you guys to like me but i'm scared of you. You bum me out, but i need your love. Basically what i'm saying. If you have a party, i don't want to go, but if you don't invite me, i'll kill myself. This is where i'm at up here. Yeah and if you don't get these jokes, just know your life is better than mine. I know what you guys are thinking, come on Mark, introvert? You're talking in front of 400 people right now, well it's pretty simple. This is a one sided conversation that's been prewritten  and rehearsed over and over and if you guys talk you get thrown out, i cant lose. You guys are the real heroes, you guys are the ones just walking into your office break room just beep bopping and scatting of the cuff no net you know. You walk in and you're like, "Hey Bob, how was your weekend", and i'm like, "that was good, how did you know to say that?" Holy hell! What'd you take, an improv class? You're like Miles Davis over here. Holy moly. Wow! Not me, i gotta prep for everything. Everything's prepped. I see the break room twenty feet away i'm like, "How you doing Bob, how you doing Bob, how you doing Bob,how you doing Bob,how you doing Bob,how you doing Bob?" Then i get in there and panic. I'm like, Jews! Oh fuck. Oh dammit. Oh man. I've always been like this and thank God for humour. Jesus Christ, you can get away with it. I remember one time, i was at a friend's house for dinner, and the dad goes, "let's all go round the table and say what we are thankful for" One son was like, "i'm thankful for the food on the table". One son was like, "I'm thankful for the roof over out heads". "What are you thankful for Mark? I was like, "Honestly, i'm thankful i'm not attracted to kids! Wouldn't that suck? It'd be a horrible life, you know? And everybody there was like, "woaah! What the hell was that? Holy Jesus, good Lord. And i didn't get it. I was like wait, why are you mad? I said i'm NOT attracted, NOT attracted! Not into 'em, what's the problem? And i got pissed, i was like, "screw you guys! I'm clearly the only one here not a pedophile!"

[frnko-mars]

The Zach Sang Show with Frank Iero: Transcription

Frank: Hey everybody, I'm Frank Iero. I just did an interview with the Zach Sang Show and we talked about all the things I wanted to talk about, and some stuff I didn't wanna talk about. I got Sanged.

Zach: Hello beautiful human. 

F: Hello!

Z: We're here with- real talk, you're a legend, man.

F: Aw, thank you.

Z: Frank Iero.

Dan: Alright!

F: Thank you so much.

Z: By the way, I've heard your last name be pronounced a couple different ways.

F: You got it right, by the way. Yes. I know.

Z: Oh my god, yes!

D: Okay, don't take credit for that. I told you exactly how to say it.

Z: Dude, I also listened to three or four different interviews and I tried to get a baseline of where people were at with it.

F: Right.

Z: And then do a grab from everybody, and do what I thought was right.

F: An amalgamation of incorrectly to be correct? Yeah.

Z: Yes!

F: I like that.

Z: That was it!

F: My dad always was like, "Oh, you gotta do a shirt that has an eye, an ear, and an O on it," and I was like, "Oh right, so people get it right?" He's like, "Yeah!" I was like, "That's terrible." 

Z: I'm a phonetic guy, so if you can give me something like that.

F: That's how you pronounce it, though. Eye-ear-oh.

Z: Frank Iero.

F: There you go.

Z: We have a lot to get into here because-

D: You know, real quick. We usually have pop stars in here so it's very exciting to have you in here. This is awesome. We are so excited.

F: My pleasure.

Z: Really, you've shaped major parts of my life, right? In terms of how I listen to music and the type of music that I find interesting, also the type of music that ended up mainstream pop when I was actively a fan of it. But this guy, I feel like you shaped his entire existence in a lot of that.

D: Yeah, I am so excited to have you sitting in front of us. 

F: Oh wow, that's amazing! I don't know how to take a compliment so you gotta-

D: I can tell!

F: Please stop. But I appreciate it, yeah.

Z: We got a lot to dive into because you have- Barriers is a great body of work. 

F: Thank you.

Z: It's an awesome album. But one of the things I find, I mean there's many things I find interesting, but on the top of my list is, if we spoke a little bit ago, I'd be talking to frnkiero andthe cellabration, or I'd be talking to Frank Iero and the Patience.

F: Correct.

Z: You change the name of your group. Does each title reflect what?

F: Well, alright so to I guess delve back, I'd never set out to be like, "Oh I'm gonna have all these bands and then have a springboard to a solo career." That was never my plan. I never wanted any of that, right? So I ended up writing these songs and people would ask me what I'd been up to so I played it for a friend, who then asked if they could play it for another friend, and then before I knew it I ended up with a record deal, and I was like, "Oh shit. Now what?" You know what I mean? So, I figured if I'm going to do this and I need to put a band together, I want to name the band, and I should bring along something that kinda detracts from how maybe inept I am at being a frontman, you know? Maybe, you think you're at a party so you don't pay attention to the guy that's not good on the mic. And so I named it the Cellabration. And I love doing that so much, I love that honeymoon period of a band, you know? Starting it and naming it, figuring out who's gonna be in it, what it's gonna sound like, what's the t-shirt design, what's the aesthetic, what story are you telling with the record. That is so interesting to me, and when I'm in a band for a long time I start to lose interest, like I wanna do another project. So I thought, "Alright well, if I enjoy that so much, and this is just gonna be my thing, there's no rules. I get to make the rules as I go along."

Z: Do it over and over again.

F: So I'm just gonna keep doing it, yeah. And every record, the band changes, the name changes, and all that. I still have interest in it, you know what I mean? It's really just for me. It's a selfish, selfish thing. 

Z: Is that the most exciting part for you, top to bottom? When you're building something, you're creating something? 

F: Absolutely. Yes. Yeah. I have to at all times. I like having multiple outlets for that because when I hit a roadblock, like a mental block or a writer's block with one, I just jump to the other and then that kinda opens a door for the other thing, you know?

Z: I totally get that. Because you always have an avenue for something that pops into your brain if you wanna get it out there. 

F: Right.

Z: So, Cellabration and Patience, could they come back?

F: I guess so. I mean, I don't know. Probably not though. I don't like repeating myself. I feel like we told the story with that thing. Because alright, the Cellabration, I felt like I needed a distraction. I got over that. I felt like after that was done, I was like, "Alright, you know what? I'm enjoying this, I don't need to be distracted from what I'm doing. I'm doing a pretty good job." I figured out how to be the frontman or the leader of a band on my own.

Z: How hard was that?

F: Very hard! Very hard. I have a huge appreciation and respect now for singers and frontmen of all sorts. The thing about it though was that I got worried that I would have to be this high kicking, you know what I mean? I never wanted to be this-

Z: Giant showman?

F: Giant showman, yeah. I didn't want any of that, and I realized that, "Oh okay! I don't have to do that, I can do it on my own," and that's when I started to feel comfortable in that role, when I figured out I could just be myself in doing this.

Z: That's what makes a great frontman, right?

F: I think so. I don't know. What the hell do I know, you know what I mean? I've realized that too, is that I have no idea how anyone else does anything. I just know how I do it.

Z: But you know how you've been doing it for quite some time.

F: Yes. But that doesn't necessarily it's the right thing for anyone else.

Z: Of course not, because yeah, essentially you've created your own madness every time, so if somebody else was to just randomly step on in there, it's your madness that they're unpacking, do you know what I'm saying?

F: I think so, yeah.

Z: It's like your thing, nobody else could do it your way because it's your way.

F: Exactly. Alright so, Tucker Rule, he plays drums in the Future Violents and we've been friends for a really long time. We talked about stage fright and stuff like that, right? I still get stage fright, I still get super nervous every time we play a show because you've never played that show before, it's always new. And someone had said to him, "Why are you nervous? This is the only thing you're good at." And I was like, "Oh wow, if you think about it that way, that's kinda crazy. But also, what if you're not good at it? Then you have nothing else."

D: Yeah.

Z: But are you at this weird phase in your life where you have to look at success differently?

F: Oh definitely, yeah.

Z: How do you measure it?

F: If I feel content, if my soul feels good, if I'm a good dad, and a good husband, and a good person, then that means creatively I'm fulfilled. 

Z: Do they fuel your creativity, and does it change the way you create? Having kids? 

F: Oh, it definitely does, because it changes the person that you are. Here's the thing, everything that you go through, whether it be meeting somebody on the street someday, or getting into a car accident, or writing a great song, it changes the person that you are, and it affects the person you become. So I'm around these amazing human beings all the time and it really does ground me. There's no way I can feel like, "Oh look at me, I'm a rockstar," when I'm picking up somebody's dirty underwear and shit, you know what I mean? Cleaning peanut butter off the fucking refrigerator, you know? But they're the best thing that's ever happened but I know that I can't be the dad I wanna be if I'm not satiated creatively. That really ruins me.

Z: Is that why you keep doing it? 

F: I think so, yeah. Because they know too, when a song's not working out or if I don't feel like I'm- it's crazy, man. Being an artist is a really rough thing because one, you have to have a very thin skin in that you let the world in so that it comes in and kinda like boils inside you and formulates into something else and then you can express yourself through it. But then when you release what you have that you've made, you have to have a thick skin because people are really mean about it.

Z: It's vicious.

F: Yeah. And you only listen to the bad stuff that people say. A thousand people could tell you you did a great job, but one person will be like, "Eh, kinda sounds like shit to me," and you're like, "Oh, it sounds like shit."

D: You still let that get to you though?

F: You have to, yeah. You can't turn it off, you know? You either are this antennae for all emotion and everything around you, you're a conduit for the universe, or you're not. You can't just be like, "Oh, I'm gonna let things in now but later I'm not gonna accept any of this." 

Z: Your vulnerability needs to stay the same.

F: It's always there, yeah.

Z: Do you feel like you've gotten more vulnerable and that thin skin is even a little bit thinner now that all of the creative stuff is on your shoulders?

F: Possibly. But also too I think the older you get, you start to realize how to navigate a little bit better, you know? But you're always gonna be crazy, you know what I mean? And that's your biggest fear, to find out at the end of it, like someone to say- you've worked all this time and you put all your energy into this thing that you've created and you finally think, "You know what? It's good enough to show someone," and then to find out you're crazy. That's the biggest fear, I think, of any artist out there.

Z: And you still face that?

F: Oh yeah. You have to.

Z: Is there a record off of Barriers that you thought, "This could be the one where everybody thinks I'm fucking crazy?"

F: Oh yeah.

Z: Every record, is there one in particular? 

F: I think it's song by song, you know? There's definitely moments where you're in the studio and you have this idea and you're like, "This could be the greatest thing I've ever done or this could be where everyone is like 'Oh that's right, he's out of his mind,' and they leave and never come back." You know what I mean? There's always that.

Z: A New Day, did that actually start as a lullaby?

F: It did, yeah.

Z: And you just sat on a lullaby for a while?

F: Well, it was one of these things where- alright so, I wrote a song with my daughters called Best Friends Forever. That was their- they started that, you know? They would sing it really loud at each other, this "best friends forever but not now," kinda thing, to taunt each other when they were kinda having a fight. And so I thought, "Alright well, a great way to bring this all together and make it a positive is to sit down with a guitar, we'll figure out a melody, and we'll actually write a song." So we ended up writing this song. Did a video for it and recorded it and all that stuff, and it was amazing! And so, at night, we'll have this thing where I say, "Alright, you wanna hear a story or do you wanna sing a song. What do you guys wanna do?" And if they pick a song, we usually will sing Best Friends Forever because they know the words and they're a fan of it because they wrote it, right? And then, so if you do a song you're gonna have to do two songs. And I was like, "I don't have any other songs." So I wanted to write a song that I felt comfortable singing to them at night, like a sentiment that they could go to bed with and wake up with a fresh sense of "the world is my oyster," kind of thing. And so, I started to come up with this idea of A New Day's Coming. We're gonna wipe the slate clean, and no matter what happened today, whether it was good or bad, that doesn't matter. Tomorrow's a new day and it's the first day of the rest of your life, kind of thing. And I wanted to give them that, you know? So I had the chorus and I had a couple of ideas of how I wanted it to go, but I feel like songs are a lot like relationships, you know. Sometimes you meet somebody in your life and you're like, "Yo, you're something really special and I'm something really special, and together we could be really amazing, but this is not the right time for us." So you let them go and hopefully down the line, you meet again, but songs are a lot like that too. I had this idea but I wasn't ready to commit, you know?

Z: How did you know you were ready?

F: It just happened. Just happened. I tried on the last record. I tried to force it and it didn't work, and I knew maybe this isn't the right time. But this record, after everything that happened between the last record and this record in my life, it just felt right. This was the time to do it, and it needed to be the first song that you heard when you put the record on. 

Z: Would you have ever thought, years ago, that you would've been making a song like A New Day? For your daughters, but also one that has a message that is so beautiful and pure and needed? I'm not saying the other songs didn't have a message like that, but it's totally different. We're talking about light to darkness.

F: Right.

Z: As basic as colors.

F: It's funny to me though, because I've always felt like I wrote really positive songs and everybody's like, "Oh man, your songs are so depressing." It's like, "Really?" This is the first record that I've written that people are like, "It's a really uplifting, positive record," and I'm like, "Finally, I did it. I've been trying for a really hard time, long time, yeah."

[ad break]

D: Why do you feel like you write depressing songs usually?

F: I don't think I do! 

D: Why do you think other people see them as depressing and you don't?

F: I don't know. It's a lot like we're from Jersey, right? If you tell somebody to go fuck themselves, it depends on how you say it, right? It's not always a bad thing.

Z: Not at all. I tell somebody to go fuck themselves once a day and I mean it with love!

F: Exactly, yeah! I think it's just the way I am, you know? I think growing up on the east coast, you have this- there's this weird mentality where you can never think that you're good at something, because if you do, you're a jerk off. And you can't ever, I don't know, you can't ever not have that rough edge about you, you know what I mean? You can't let your guard down too much.

Z: I totally- what you're saying-

F: It's weird.

Z: Yeah, you're never soft.

F: No, yeah. Because you always think somebody's out to get you at some point on something.

Z: Even in your softest moments, there is an edge there.

F: Yeah.

Z: And as you say this, I think of a thousand moments in my life where that is so obvious. It's not until you look back at it that you realize. 

F: Even when my kids give me a hug, I'm like, "Are they trying to steal my wallet?"

Z: You question almost everything a little bit.

F: Everything.

Z: But even when you really mean it with love, the average person will take it with a, "Ooh, did he really mean that?" 

F: I know, yeah. I think sometimes it's inflection, sometimes it's what I think is- see, here's the thing. I personally, I love when things are beautifully broken, right? I think people aren't perfect, we're not supposed to be perfect, no one's fucking perfect, right? So this idea that we have to strive to be this image that we see on the internet or something like that, like, no. Even if there were people out there that were perfect, why would you wanna be that person? The only thing the world doesn't have is you. We have everyone else, so the only thing that we need is you, and you're the only one that can give it to us. So, celebrate shit that's wrong with you because that's what makes you unique, you know? Those "flaws," the things that people tell you are flaws, no. That's the stuff that you should nurture and build from. That's what's unique to you. No one is fucked up the way that you're fucked up, you know what I mean? And that's what I try to celebrate in songs and people are like, "Oh man, that's so depressing," it's like, no! Be courageous in showing what maybe isn't necessarily the feature that you would wanna put forward. Celebrate the stuff that scares the hell out of you, the stuff that you feel uncomfortable about, the things that are uniquely you.

D: Is that a lesson that you've had to learn over time, or is that something you've always kind of known?

F: I think over time. It takes a while to gain that knowledge because just like everybody else, I was young. I was, I'm insecure. I've always been that way, you know? I was a fat kid growing up that didn't really feel like they belonged anywhere. I found punk rock and I realized, "Oh shit, I can do this stuff on my own for me and my friends," and it took me a while to realize that I don't need anyone's fucking permission. I don't need to prove myself to anyone but myself, you know? And no one can tell me how to be me. 

Z: Does that happen while you're releasing music or does it happen before? Because I'm thinking everything you just said, I feel like is missing in music today.

F: Right. Yeah.

Z: But what you said was representative of what pop punk used to be.

F: Right.

Z: Even when I was in middle school, or my first early years of high school, it was My Chemical Romance, it was Green Day, it was Fall Out Boy, it was Panic!, you represented those with flaws and you gave everybody that hope. Just because you were different or not like everybody else, seize that moment, seize those things.

F: Yeah.

Z: And milk it.

F: I think that you have to. It doesn't make sense to wanna be something that you're not, you know? I think that even if you see an immediate happiness in not being pointed at and being thought of as different, that's not a happiness that sticks with you because it's not you, and you're going to feel uncomfortable and unhappy in that skin because it's not yours, you know? 

Z: Totally.

F: I think with that movement that you're talking about, I think what got weird and crazy and misconstrued was the- people started to then gravitate towards a certain thing and it became almost a caricature of those sentiments. And then from there, either people gravitated towards this caricature that they saw and thought, "Oh, well I don't fit anywhere else, I should fit in here, so I'm gonna be that," and that's not great because it kinda goes against what you started it from. And then also I think we lost the ability to differentiate between good and bad attention. We just realized that we're getting attention and that must be what I need. And I think that that's a big problem that's happening in young people right now, where they're looking for someone to notice them and they don't get that negative attention or positive attention difference. They just know that people are paying attention to them, they get likes, or they get followers or something like that, and it's kinda crazy.

Z: Kids today are three times more likely to wanna be a Youtube star when they grow up than an astronaut.

F: That's, yeah.

Z: But growing up when I was growing up, if a kid had a love for space or he was a math nerd or whatever, those are things that they seized, you know what I'm saying? 

F: Right, yeah.

Z: Even though there was always that asshole in class that made fun of you, you always saw that and you wanted to kind of explore it and expand upon it.

F: Yeah.

Z: But now, it's all- it's attention.

F: It's attention and I think it's also when you hear people say, "What do you wanna be when you grow up? What do you wanna do with your life? What do you wanna do?" and they say, "I wanna be famous." "Famous for what?" "I don't know, I just wanna be famous." Like, oh fuck man. That sucks. 

Z: It's freaky. As a dad, are you scared a little bit?

F: Very, very. I think that instilling that though, "You're getting attention or I'm praising you for something that you accomplished, or for trying something and failing and getting back up and doing it again," those are accomplishments. Those accomplishments garner attention. That's a good thing as opposed to just like, "Oh here's a participation trophy. Here's some sort of celebration for nothing." I don't want that.

Z: Are we against participation trophies? A for effort?

F: I think that it's hard, right? Because you have kids, you don't wanna see them sad. You wanna see them be happy all the time, but that's not life, you know? You can't have the sweet without the sour. You can't win all the time. I'm not preparing you for what the real world is like if I give you- if I rig the game every time.

Z: You're doing a disservice to your kids.

F: I think so, yeah.

Z: Yeah, totally.

F: It's terrible.

Z: They're gonna be set up wrong. They're gonna think that everything deserves to be handed to them and then you're gonna be Lori Loughlin, paying half a million dollars to get your kid into college.

F: Oh yeah. I don't know.

D: No comment?

Z: I don't know if it'll cost you that much to get into Rutgers. But also you might get them in there.

F: I don't know. Well, here's the thing. I went to Rutgers and I dropped out.

Z: I was just gonna say, right? 

F: I know, I shouldn't have that. Well, that's my thing about it. I want my kids to go to college but I know what it's like because I went and I saw and I heard opportunity knocking and I was like, "This is my one chance in a lifetime to do the thing that I wanna do, that I love more than anything, and so I've gotta say goodbye to the backup plan." And my dad and my grandfather, who I love and looked up to more than anyone in this world, were severely disappointed in me. And that was a hard one, you know? But sometimes you gotta make your own way and you gotta- they can tell you so many stories about how this is the pitfalls of this and that, but you gotta get your own scars, you know? I get it. I can't fall off my bike for my kids, they have to fall off their own bikes.

Z: How long did it take for your dad and your grandfather to come around?

F: Years. I'd done a lot of things, accomplishments and sold a lot of records and had plaques and all this stuff, and then one day, my grandfather gave me a call and he said that my birthday was in the Trentonian, which is the local Trenton newspaper. 

D: He was like, "Ah, you made it!"

F: Yeah! He was like, "Ah, you did it!" That was the moment where he was like, "Okay, it's alright that you dropped out of college." 

Z: But that must have felt amazing!

F: It was, it was, yeah! I was like, "But I did all this stuff, or I could've fell down a well." It's the same shit, you know what I mean? You still would've been in the paper.

Z: "Local New Jersey man falls down a well!"

F: "Also on his birthday."

Z: Wow! I wanna go back really quick to pop punk and it becoming a caricature of itself.

F: Okay.

Z: Is that genre dead? 

F: Oh man. Sorry, I didn't mean to blow into your mic. 

Z: Anytime.

F: I mean, I don't know. I think it's hard to say because these are sub-genres of sub-genres of sub-genres. It really is just all rock and roll, right? I think the issue that you really have is when people set out to make something for a reason other than just creating. Say like, "I wanna set out to make this band that sounds like this because this is what's popular and this plays to this demographic," once you've said those words, you're fucking done. Yeah. So I think that's a big issue, you know what I mean? And then also too, I'm trying, I don't know how to be, how do I say this in the right way? It's weird to me- alright, there's classic bands, there's bands that have done this for years and years and years, and they do it well and those songs will live on and I love those songs, and I know a lot of people do love those songs. But there's something weird about seeing people that are 40+ singing about weird high school fucking fart joke stuff, you know what I mean? That's a weirdness. I don't know, maybe that's just for me, you know what I mean? 

Z: The timeless of the records, there's a certain point where you gotta graduate from that?

F: I think so. I don't know.

Z: I get what you're saying. 

F: Yeah. There are certain things about my personality and things that I will always find funny, I'm sure. But I'm not the same person I was when I was 15, and I don't write the same songs that I did when I was 15, but some of those emotions are the same and I understand that. But I don't know, I think it's a fine line, you know? I think your emotions have to evolve and I think your songwriting hsa to evolve, I think.

Z: So you're saying you're never gonna perform any Pencey Prep songs ever again?

F: Never.

Z: Never?

F: Oh man, that's funny.

Z: That was your first band ever.

F: Yeah, it wasn't my first band ever but it was the first record that came out and was signed to a label, yeah. First band ever, you wanna know what my first band ever was?

Z: What was it called?

F: It was called Fountainhead. Thank you.

Z: There was something prolific about that, I feel.

F: Yeah. We had one song, I played drums in it.

Z: Cool.

F: Because I wanted to play guitar but he was like, "No, I play guitar." So, that was the first band. And then shortly after that, I played my first show with a band called Steve Wiel and the Disco Kings. 

Z: Whoa.

F: No one was named Steve Wiel.

Z: I was gonna say, "Where's Steve?"

F: No one played disco.

D: Where'd the name come from?

F: I think it was a friend of somebody and we- it was weird. I was a freshman in high school, my friend Hambone was a senior, he played guitar and found out that I played guitar, so he came over one day and was like, "Alright, show me what you can do," and I played probably a Nirvana song or something. He was like, "Oh! You can actually play? Alright, we're starting a band, we have a gig in a month." I was like, "Oh! Okay." He was like, "Oh by the way, our name is Steve Wiel and the Disco Kings," I was like, "What?! What the hell is happening?" So we played maybe three shows or something, but that a big deal. What's funny about that band is that- there's many things funny about that band, one of the funny things about that band is that in those months where he had a few shows or whatever, we wrote 25 songs.

Z: Whoa.

F: And every show we thought we had to play every song that he wrote.

D: Oh my god.

F: So the last show was at a friend of a friend's birthday party.

Z: That's painful.

F: And we just brutalized this party.

Z: For two and a half hours!

F: For like an hour and a half! 

D: Everyone's like, "Get these guys offstage!" 

F: Seriously, yeah. "We just wanna listen to the chicken dance or something. Please."

Z: "Where's Steve?!"

F: It was horrible! Yeah, it was terrible.

D: How many bands have you been in over the years?

F: Oh my god, oh man. There's no way, I have no idea. So many. So many bands. But Jersey's like that. Jersey is like a very incestuous pit of musicians. Everyone's playing in everyone's band. If you're a drummer you're in six bands, hands down. If you have a PA system you're in everyone's band. If your brother put on shows you're in three bands. If you have a job at Staples, which I did, you're in twelve bands because you can get-

Z: Promo cards!

F: Yeah!

Z: Come on!

F: You get stickers for free, you get flyers for free.

Z: Did you ever play the Marlboro Rec Center?

F: Oh yeah! Definitely, definitely.

Z: I've been to a few shows there.

F: Yeah.

Z: Some good times. Starland.

F: Starland. Bound Brook, I used to play at the New Palace all the time. Lindenhurst American Legion Hall. I played outside of a hot dog stand in Rutherford. You name it, I've played it. I've played on the back off a flatbread- flatbread. A flatbread bread truck. Flatbread bread truck, in Nutley. I remember this too because the band was called Hybrid and they listed us at Hybird and we were so mad! And our singer was like, "I'm not playing! I'm not gonna play unless they change the flyer!" I was like, "No one cares. No one's here to see us. Who the hell do you think you are? It's a fair. No one's here."

D: Isn't it crazy to think that you've played at fairs and then you've played in front of 100,000 people?

F: Yeah. Well, I mean, how do you get to 100,000 people unless you play the fair, you know what I mean?

D: That's a good point.

F: Right?

Z: You can't get there. I mean, there's people who do skip over.

D: I don't know. Lil Nas X, I don't think he ever played at a fair.

F: Who?

D: Lil Nas X, Old Town Road.

F: Oh.

D: He went straight up to the top.

F: Oh, I'm sure he's playing a fair right now. I'm sure there's a fair, right? 

D: Probably a big fair.

F: Oh yeah! But you know, it's still a fair.

D: That's true.

F: Yeah. I don't care how big that fair is, somebody's winning fish by throwing a fucking ping pong ball in a thing. I don't care.

Z: That's such a New Jersey thing.

F: Yeah.

Z: Dude, I had so many goldfish that died within a day!

F: Yeah, they're disposable animals. The shame.

Z: I felt so bad because you were really winning the worst goldfish out of the bunch, you know?

F: Yeah, well, think about this, right? I don't know. Never mind. I'm gonna get letters if I go into this any further, but it's almost like you're the Kevorkian of goldfish at that point because they're just packed in this fucking tank, they get put in a bag, that fish must be like, "Kill me. Just kill me. Please."

D: It's why he dies in a day.

F: "Someone kill me." Yeah.

Z: He wants to go.

F: I think, yeah. I think you're doing it a favor.

Z: By the way, it is pretty wild to take a listen back to all the different groups you've been in, and really, you've performed in front of 100,000 people, but you can't have one without the other. 

F: No, yeah.

Z: Do you think there is longevity for artists who skip over those coveted hot dog stand moments? Or those coveted somebody throwing a beer at you?

F: "Coveted," I don't think it's coveted.

Z: Those situations? But you learn something, don't you?

F: No, I definitely learned a lot. I learned a lot from every experience, good and bad. But I don't know, I mean, who says- I think if the art is valid, whether it gets recognized immediately or after you're dead, who cares? You know what I mean? I don't know. It's unfortunate, you know? There's artists out there that suffer their entire life playing to no one, dying in squalor, and then eventually somebody finds a tape somewhere and is like, "Oh my god, this is amazing." That sucks but that's what happens, you know? And then there's people that write one song and go immediately to the top and everybody gets to enjoy it, and that's a great thing. Who knows? I don't know.

Z: Why do you make music still today? What is it that motivates it?

F: I have to. It's like breathing. I can't not have a song pop into my head and then immediately just pick up a recorder and start recording it. I have literally thousands of voice memos on my phone, some of which will turn into songs, some of which I just needed to get down at the moment, you know? 

Z: How often are you doing that?

F: I just did it today at KROQ. We were just there, yeah.

Z: So what happens?

F: I don't know, it's a couple of chords. I don't know what else it'll turn into.

Z: You have synesthesia, right?

F: Yes, yeah.

Z: So do you see colors, do you see objects? What do you see?

F: I see colors, yeah. But for me, in record form. The first record to me is pink, the first record that we did together, it's the Cellebration record. So Stomachaches is a pink record. Parachutes has always been a blue record, from the moment we started writing Barriers, it was a yellow.

Z: And that actually comes through in the album artwork.

F: Yeah. And that's why I think that I enjoy doing that so much is because I know what it needs to be, you know what I mean? I like being so hands on with that because I can see it already.

Z: But at what point in the creation process do you see a color? How many songs in? Do you see it from the get go or?

F: It depends. This was pretty early on, yeah. This was always yellow to me, I don't know. I wondered though too, if it's like the emotion that I go into the writing process with. I don't know.

D: So yellow means you were happy going into this one, right?

Z: What song started it?

F: The song that started this process- good question. I think the first full song that we did as a band was Young and Doomed. The first song that I wrote though for this record, if I were to go all the way back, was either the beginnings of New Day or The Unfortunate. There was also the beginnings of Six Feet Down Under, was early on.

Z: A New Day makes sense for yellow, but yellow could have its own meaning because-

F: I think it's-

Z: What is Six Feet Under to you? 

F: Six Feet Down Under was me trying to make sense of the accident that happened almost three years ago.

Z: In Sydney, but do you see that as a positive thing that you used to heal or?

F: I think, yeah. I mean, if I were to try to put it into some sort of plan, maybe it's a fall color. Maybe it's seeing that situation kinda come to an end and die off, you know what I mean? This thing that was so huge and such a monumental, debilitating event in my life, it had such power over me, seeing that kind of wither away was huge.

Z: Like its hold on you.

F: Yeah. Because once I'm able to write a song about something, and once I'm able to verbalize and put a melody and words behind what I'm feeling, I am able to define that situation, and then it becomes real but I also have control over it.

Z: I get it.

F: You know what I mean? As opposed to it just being there and controlling me.

Z: Yeah, it's yours.

F: Once you name something, it's like, "Yeah, I got you."

Z: It belongs to you.

D: Is it hard to perform that song live?

F: We haven't.

D: Really?

F: Yeah.

D: Why is that?

F: Well, I think that with songs, all songs need to be written, but do they need to be played over and over and over again? I don't know, you know? I remember hearing in an interview once that our friends The Get Up Kids, they had performed a song called, I think it was A Newfound Interest in Massachusetts, and someone had asked, "How come you never play that song live?" and they said, "We got it right the first time. Why should we do it again?" And I was like, "Oh wow! That's so interesting, I never thought of it that way." If you nailed something, would you do it again.

Z: No.

F: And get it wrong, you know what I mean? So I think since, they've actually played that song because people just wanna hear it so bad, but that's an interesting way to think about things. I also think about, there's songs- a song that I wrote for my grandfather when he passed away, it's a song off of Parachutes, I never need to go through that emotion again. I needed to get it out because I needed to expel that but for my own soul, I don't need to do that song again.

Z: Young and Doomed, what event is that that you needed to get out there and have in your control?

F: Right. Well, that song I think is a lot about predetermination, you know? And how we can want the best for our offspring, right? We can get them the best doctors, the best school systems, we can give them everything that they could possibly ever want, but there's certain that are innate and things that are handed down through the blood that runs through our veins. Things like depression and addiction and all these things, they rear their heads whether we have done everything we possibly can or not, you know? And that song's a lot about that kind of stuff, about being your own worst enemy, and knowing that there's this predetermined path for feeling a certain way.

D: So why did you wanna include the I'm Not Okay lyric? 

F: It fits so well! I think also too, it was one of those things where I was writing the lyrics for that song, and I knew the song was important and I wanted to get it correct, and it just came out as I was writing in my basement. I was like, "Oh my god, that's so good." And at the same time I was like, "It's gonna get a lot of attention. Again, do I want that attention? Is that negative attention, is that positive attention? Are people going to miss what's being said in the song just looking for this line?" And I started to think about that a lot and I thought, "Well, maybe people will get where I'm trying to reference in here, and not really try to, I don't know, be like, 'Oh is it because he fucks his best friend?'" You know what I mean? I want people to realize that there's these universes, you know what I mean? It's not just about some fucking weird meme that people make about the members. Listen to the songs that we were writing and what was being said in there. And I like that in a comic book, when you find out one superhero is in the same universe as another, like it references another body of work, I think that's kinda fucking awesome. It breaks down that fourth wall. 

Z: But I'm here for it all day.

F: Okay.

Z: Because it is how you build an actual universe.

F: Yes, exactly.

Z: It's something that's bigger than just that one and it gives any fan who truly cares and invests the opportunity to connect all the dots and really be invested in all of it as opposed to just one. What is the connection between that line and the message of the overall song?

F: So, I think it's gaining the power of that not being okay. That's a huge thing, a realization to come to, and it's okay to not be okay. We get so concerned about wanting people to perceive us as being, "Oh no no no, I'm good, I'm good, don't worry about it. There's no problems here." Everybody's got problems! We're full of issues.

Z: We just don't wanna say it.

F: We just don't wanna say it, yeah. That idea that we can't break that porcelain, we have to keep this facade up that we got it all figured out, no one has it figured out, you know? We're old enough now, right? How old are you guys?

D: 28.

Z: 26.

F: Alright. So, I'm a little bit older, right? I'm gonna be 38, I have kids now. I'm my parents when I was a kid, and I was like, "Oh my god, my parents have it figured out." No they don't! Your parents don't have it figured out, no one fucking has it figured out, man! We just do what we think is right and we do our best, but we all have problems. Real life is crazy.

Z: But why isn't music showcasing that in a way that is mainstream anymore? That's what I'm trying to figure out.

F: Right. Well, I think some of it is, but some of it too is I think people don't wanna have to fucking deal with that. I think that's what it is too, you know? The escape is, they just want something to put on.

Z: We always escape.

F: Yeah, and not think about it.

Z: But what was your music before? And the music that we're listening to today? Was it an escape, was it reality, was it a combination of both? 

F: See, I liked when people told me stories that were based in reality. That was the stuff that I really got into. Alright so, one of my favorite punk bands of all time, The Bouncing Souls. I remember them writing songs about walking through the city and they're friends and hanging out at the Cocktail Lounge, the Holiday Cocktail Lounge, and thinking about this universe. What is their life like, you know? "It's a long walk through the city in the rain, it's a long walk from train to train," thinking about like, "Oh my god, what is this like?" Living in the city, being in this band, touring the country, talking about writing songs about shows, that was huge for me. That was like folk punk rock. I was learning about this world that I wanted so badly to be a part of.

Z: So, do you write about escapes? Do you write for reality? Do you get what I'm saying?

F: Right. I write from personal experience. I find it very difficult for me to invent a world and just write fictional things. The things that I write about are things that I've experienced in my own life, or I've witnessed people go through it firsthand. Yeah, I draw inspiration from living.

Z: Has it always been like that? 

F: Always, yeah. Yeah. And I find it, I wonder what it's like to be able to just come up with-

Z: Fabricate a story? 

F: Yeah, fabricate a story. That's gotta be so, because I think about how draining it is to think and overthink and to live these songs. As much as I love making records, it takes everything out of me. So, I wonder, "Well, I wonder if I just talked about some fake bullshit, I'd be happy, right? I wouldn't have to-"

Z: I don't think you'd be fulfilled.

F: I don't think so either, but I wonder.

Z: And I think the people who do it the right way are drained in their own way because it's through empathy, and they hear a story a lot. I'm hella blessed, I get to talk to a lot of incredible musicians and I've heard stories of all different types of how people do it, and Sam Smith can hear a friend's story over and over again, and then craft this beautiful hit record after it. Or Alec Benjamin for instance, if you haven't checked him out, I would so recommend it.

F: Okay.

Z: He does retellings of Aesop's Fables.

F: Oh wow.

Z: But you won't know until you dig down into the lyrics.

F: That's crazy.

Z: Alec Benjamin.

F: Okay.

Z: Worth your time.

F: Alright, I'll check it out.

Z: I promise you that.

F: Right on.

Z: But he barely writes about reality. It's wild.

F: That's like fantasy metal. That's gotta be crazy, man! Writing about orcs and shit? That's gotta be so nuts. Think about that, you know?

Z: How do you ever get there?

F: How do you get that, I have no idea! How do you do that? Crazy.

Z: What mental state do you enter?

F: Think about this. Have you ever heard that band, Dust?

Z: No.

F: It's Marky Ramone's first band, it's a fucking fantasy band. It's dope as shit. It's so good.

Z: Orcs and trolls?

F: Dude, yeah. On the cover of the record, there's like a fucking troll holding a sledgehammer. It's crazy!

Z: That's pretty cool.

F: It's the best. 

Z: What are you thinking?

D: You know what I was thinking that's interesting about you? You could be in a band now, you opened for Taking Back Sunday, right?

F: Yeah, yeah.

D: But then at the same time, you could go and be the headliner. Is that weird? You know what I'm talking about? It's like you guys went from being a headliner, now you're in a new band, you're opening for Taking Back Sunday.

F: Right.

D: Is it kinda weird to think about it like that?

F: Well, I think that- you're talking project to project? Like My Chem to this or any other bands? 

D: Yeah.

F: I feel like one doesn't dictate the other, you know what I mean? Just because I did this, this, and this with one band, doesn't mean that if I tour with Leathermouth or Death Spells or my own projects, that doesn't have any bearing on this, you know what I mean? You still gotta start from scratch and start from square one. 

Z: Is that important for you?

F: I think so. I mean, yeah. 

Z: Because real talk, any agent would make sure that that wouldn't have to happen. But I feel like kind of motivates you.

F: Well, I think you have to earn it. Every project, yeah. One doesn't piggyback off the other. It doesn't work that way, at least in my head, I don't think so.

Z: I respect that because I think there's a lot of people who wouldn't do that, honestly.

F: Yeah. I don't know. I only know one way to do it.

Z: But it's cool!

F: No, it's fine. Here's the thing too is like, people will ask, "What's more fun? Playing this type of venue or this type of show?" It's all fun, man. It's all different, you know? I don't feel more at home in a basement or in an arena, I just love playing music. 

Z: As long as you're doing it.

F: You have to think about it a different way. You're approach is definitely different, but I enjoy both.

Z: Because you're fulfilled no matter what. 

F: Yeah!

Z: It's not about the size of the venue, it's the fact that you're doing it.

F: Exactly, yeah.

Z: That's how you know.

F: That's how you know. That's how they get you.

Z: Boom.

D: Are you trying to separate your lives? You were in- the My Chem life, obviously everyone knows about that, and then you have what you're doing today. Is it important that you separate the two? Because I'm sure a lot of people just wanna know what went on, how was it, what was it like being in the band? But then you're like, "Okay well, I'm this age, I'm doing this now, let's focus on this."

F: You mean in press and interviews and stuff?

D: Yeah, press, interviews, just fans.

F: Well here's what I don't like. I don't mind talking about anything that I've done, because I'm proud of everything I've done. What I don't like is when someone will sit down with me and talk about this project for an hour, and then at the end of it, be like, "Oh by the way," ask one question about My Chem, and then throw that at the title of it so that someone clicks the link on it. First off, you and I are both too smart for this dumb shit that you're doing. Two, no one is going to be excited when they click that link because you don't have any fucking information. You know what I mean? If I had something to say about that, we would, that's what this interview would be about, you know what I mean? 

D: Yeah.

F: So that whole fucking grabbing clicks is just, it makes you look like a dick, and pisses everybody off. It does nothing to me, I don't care. You know what I mean?

Z: This is how I wanna start the whole conversation. This right at the top. 

F: Right? I mean, you know. 

Z: Because it's 100% true! It is what people do because they're looking for clickbait.

F: It's all about, yeah, it's clickbait for advertisers that, whatever. I get it, but don't do that. Then people aren't gonna go to your site anymore because you don't have any information.

Z: Because there's no integrity. If integrity doesn't matter, then what is there to gravitate towards? 

F: Do you think that because everything is so fleeting anyway no one really cares? It's just a grab.

Z: It's really sad that we do deal with an audience or a public that has a very short attention span, but the one thing that I have noticed is that people choose to remember when they choose to remember. They store things away, you know? But I think it depends on how intense our wrongdoing is. Do you get what I'm saying?

F: Okay.

Z: If people are just looking for information, you might face a few crappy comments, but ultimately what that comes down to is who you choose to talk to. Because I think different people choose to play different games and we play a long-term game. I hope to have you on our show for as long as I choose to do radio, which-

F: I'm moving in. I'm just gonna stay here.

Z: Dude, I got candles for days! But I'm 26, I got 30 years left.

F: Right.

Z: A lot of people that you're talking to are playing this short "gotcha" game, and maybe they're trying to make a name for themselves in the middle of the country, or whatever. It's like everybody has their own motives.

F: Yeah, that's true.

Z: My motives are talking about music that matters and building quality relationships that last forever.

F: I like that motive. That's a good one.

D: But if somebody puts that in a headline- I'm just looking at it the other way, somebody puts in the headline, they could learn more about you that they didn't know before.

F: Somebody that's clicking just for that isn't looking to scan a whole article.

Z: They're gonna skip ahead.

D: They're just skip until they hear what they wanna hear.

F: Yeah.

Z: Boom!

D: Good point.

F: I don't know, yeah. I understand what you're saying, yeah. But yeah, unfortunately, it doesn't work that way. 

D: I'm trying to be positive, you know what I mean?

F: Here's the thing. It'd be different if it wasn't- when you put something in a headline or something like that, you're promising to tell that story, right? If you're doing it just to, I don't know, to grab you in and then now it's like, "Ah, gotcha, here's bullshit!" you're not gonna have someone really stick around. I don't know.

Z: They're not clicks you want. 

F: Yeah, exactly.

Z: You're not grabbing attention for the right purpose.

F: Right.

Z: So the retention on that is gonna be poor. Do you get what I'm saying?

F: I do.

Z: You're not gonna turn those clicks into fans, they're not gonna be there and like what they hear, it's a mess. I get what you're saying. That's internet culture, sadly. Which, by the way, it's all attached to everybody showing the world exactly what they want to world to see, and living everything through a filter, and doing whatever it takes to just grab that like, or grab that initial view, you know?

F: I agree, I totally agree.

Z: It's the real world we live in.

F: It's fantasy metal. It's a world of fantasy metal.

D: What do you think of the term or phrase "emo?"

F: I think it's been so bastardized and diluted that I don't even know what it means anymore, you know?

D: Yeah.

F: I think that it started as short for "emotional," right? Alright, I think when you hear about, "Oh there's Emo Nite!" It's like, "Oh okay, do you go there and you listen to The Cure?" They're like, "No." "Alright well, is it like weird early Jade Tree stuff?" "No, it's this, this, and this." "Oh, it's just pop bands disguised as real bands? Alright." That's weird to me, you know? When you use it now to just describe a shitty haircut, that sucks, you know what I mean? 

D: Yeah, that's true. 

F: You know what I mean? I feel like a lot of bullshit got lumped into it, into this term, and that's why I think people really rebelled against it.

D: So, when I think of emo bands, it's like All Time Low, I guess Panic! but not anymore, kind of. Hawthorne Heights, would you not consider that in that genre?

F: I would say that I don't know those bands well enough to know if they're emotional, but when I think of emo, I think of Mineral. I think of Knapsack, I think of The Cure, I think of fucking Embrace, you know? That's what I think of.

Z: Was this a part of the whole characterization or the caricature of pop punk music? Was the emo haircut and the emo kid all a part of that? 

F: You mean later on?

Z: Yeah.

F: I think so. I think that's where it went to was like, "Oh, people that are sad and have weird makeup," and then it became this weird cartoon, kind of thing.

Z: Cartoon, yeah. It kinda bummed me out because I'm a Warped Tour kid. I was raised on Warped Tour and Bamboozle. And kills me every summer that I don't see the Bamboozle festival take over the freaking parking lot of Giants Stadium. 

F: Right.

Z: Annoyed about it.

F: You seem annoyed.

Z: I'll get going. But it was around that time that I had the haircut that covered one of my eyes.

D: Oh, I had that haircut.

Z: I was wearing the fat bracelets, the Jac Vanek bracelets.

D: I had the eyeliner on.

Z: To Write Love On Her Arms. My sister's in the other room, she still rocks it, she still goes to Warped Tour every year. I feel like that whole thing went away and it just destroys me and I think you made a good point where we were talking about what is pop punk and the caricature and the cartoon it kinda became.

F: Right.

Z: Destroys me because it was such a hub.

F: It meant something to you, yeah.

Z: Of safety and community for so many.

F: Right.

Z: And whenever there were those groups that kind of crossed over into that mainstream light, it was like, "Yes!" I don't know, you felt represented.

F: I agree. I agree with that because I remember hearing bands like At The Drive In and Thursday on the radio, and being like, "Oh my god, these are kids like me. These are real bands." Bands that I saw, I saw those bands in VFW halls at the Wayne Firehouse. You know what I mean? "Midtown's on the radio, this is crazy. New Found Glory is on the radio, I know these bands. This is real." And that was confidence that, "Hey guess what, it's not far away. This doesn't feel like Oz anymore, you know? It's not this made up upper echelon of bands that are 'making it,' you know? Anyone can do this. I can write a song in my basement and fucking get on the radio? That's crazy! Thursday's on the fucking radio, that's awesome!"

Z: It made it real.

F: It made it real, yeah. And then all of a sudden, the videos started showing up on MTV and it was like, "Oh my god, this is amazing!" And then major labels started calling the fucking practice studio and it was weird. It was real weird.

Z: Because everybody wanted something like that because there was a need for that genre of music a little bit.

F: I guess so, yeah. I just know that we wanted so badly to be, you know, heard. We just wanted so badly to be out there touring and to have a chance. Just have a shot, you know? And you felt as a young person, how do you get your shot? How do you get people to listen? Even if they hate it, I just want people to hear it. And that was the early 2000s of Myspace and stuff like that, and that's how you got heard, and it was insane because heard it and they were like, "I've never heard anything like this. I wanna pay attention to what's being said here."

Z: What was it? Why did you know? What was it about wanting to be heard? Did you feel like you had a message that ended to get out there? Did you feel like you were doing something that was unlike anything else?

F: I definitely think we, especially that Jersey Long Island scene, was unique. It didn't sound like everything else that was going on, you know? There were certain offshoots that we had comradery with. There were a couple of communities and bands in North Carolina, and Florida, there were these-

Z: All east coast.

F: It was a lot of east coast, you know. And the majority of the bands were centralized in that Jersey scene. I don't know, man. People always wanted to be like, "It's the new Seattle!" It's like, "I don't know about that," but it was just a community of bands that- you know what I think it is? There were so many bands that you needed to be good. There's only so many, there's a finite amount of shows, right? And if you're a band in this scene in Jersey, you gotta fight for these spots. You gotta fight for the people that like your band, and you gotta fight for these spots and the shows so you have to be so good, and you're seeing all these other bands get better and better, and you're like, "Oh my god, I have to get better."

Z: You gotta step up your game. This constant awareness of the competition. 

F: And for My Chem, when things really got crazy was when Murder By Death, or at that time Little Joe Gould, came to New Jersey because Thursday found them in Indiana when they were on tour. They signed to Eyeball, they came to Jersey, we saw them play and we heard their record, and we were like, "Oh my god! This is way more than anything else, anyone else is doing. We need to really think outside the box now." And we started to get even more cinematic and started to look to classical music for inspiration and that's when things started to branch off and explode. 

Z: Wow.

F: Yeah. 

Z: So from challenging yourself, you got to where you're at?

F: Yeah. I think that every time I've been put in a room or in a band with somebody that was, that I knew or felt was better than me that inspired me, I got exponentially better. And that was just how much I love playing with people that are better than me. The band that I'm in right now, playing with Kayleigh and Matt and Tucker and Evan, they inspire me to up my game. And that's huge, man. When I got in a band with Ray and Gerard and Mikey and that time Otter was in the band, I had to get better to join My Chem. I just had to get better.

Z: Did you feel out the gate that you weren't good enough to be around them?

F: Yeah. Yeah. But you can't let anybody, again that's the Jersey. You can't let anybody know, right? And you have to fake it until you make it, and then you just fucking grind.

Z: Dude, it's fake it til you make it and you work your ass off until you get to what you're saying you can do!

F: Absolutely. Always grind it out, man. Grind grind grind. People will tell you, old-school Warped Heads, they'll tell you. The first time we had a "bus," we couldn't just sit on the bus and chill. We had the bus gutted, we did. He had the bus gutted, we put in stations so we could rehearse and write the next record while on Warped Tour.

Z: Wow!

F: That's what we did.

D: Really?

F: We played maybe, realistically, five to four hours a day in that bus.

Z: Holy! And you did a show!

F: And a show.

D: So, what years was that? Do you remember? 

F: I mean, we wrote songs for, I guess that was 2003, 2004, 2005 maybe? You know, that three year period.

Z: At what point did you know that you were good enough to be along these guys?

F: In My Chem?

Z: Yeah.

F: Well, if you think about it, the first record was basically written. I had to write on top of that record. So I only wrote maybe three songs with them on that record. The next record when I started to write, I think for Three Cheers, and became I guess part of the main melodies. A lot of those melodic guitar parts that are either going against or with vocals is usually what I would bring to the table, and I think- I remember recording Helena in LA, the engineer's name was Mike Plotnikoff, and I played my part for the choruses of Helena, and I remember him hitting the end when I finished the take, and he was like, "Phew, that's a great fucking chorus," and me being like, "Really? I wrote that! That's awesome, alright, cool." 

Z: And then you knew.

F: That's when I was like, "Thank god, alright." You can finally exhale and be like, "Alright, no one's gonna throw me out while in my sleep. I'm not gonna wake up, all my shit packed around me."

Z: With just a Post-it note that says, "See you later."

F: Yeah, just says, "Fuck off."

D: Isn't it crazy that people are still singing that today?

F: That's amazing, yeah! It's crazy. What's insane to me is that we'll play shows and there's young people still coming to our shows, finding out about this band, and then also even younger people coming to shows wearing My Chem merch and just finding out about that band. 

D: Really?

F: It's like, "Wow, how'd you find out about this band?" And it's being passed along from older siblings or old friends, and it's how I found out about bands that I loved, you know? I remember coming up in high school and being like, "I'm never gonna get to see Jawbreaker but I love Jawbreaker," you know? It happened before me. The Misfits or Gorilla Biscuits and stuff like that. Of course now, some of those bands are playing again, but I remember being in high school and being like, "All my favorite bands are dead." I felt like fucking Morrissey going to school, it's crazy, you know? But it didn't change the way that I felt about those bands and how they shaped my upbringing and how much I loved them. And to be that band for somebody else, that's amazing, that's crazy. It still doesn't make much sense. I feel like that band's bigger now than it ever was. It's crazy.

Z: It is pretty wild.

F: Yeah.

Z: Are there records of yours that you're happy knowing will live forever?

F: All of them, yeah, absolutely. That's unreal. That's like one of those pipe dream things that- I would never say that by the way.

Z: I can.

F: To say, "I hope this record lives on forever," but that's what you're doing when you make a record. That record will be there forever. Will people listen to it? Who knows, but that's a huge thing, that people will listen to that forever. It's strange to me to come up with a new record and then be on the cover of a magazine, then two months later be on the cover of the same magazine as a "classic artist." That's crazy. 

Z: What does that say to you-

F: Because I'm old. 

Z: It is pretty wild, but it also says something about the validity of all the music you've created.

F: Yeah.

Z: And it does great stories, great music in general, kinda stands the test of time. And beyond that, I don't know, I'll keep going back to it. I feel like the stories that you've been telling for many years are stories that aren't really told in music anymore, so people crave it. People want it, whether it's from you today or from My Chemical Romance. 

F: Yeah, I mean, I hope so, you know? I hope that I'm doing something that people enjoy, but it doesn't affect why I do it or if I'll keep doing it, you know what I mean? That's just an added bonus, that's like icing on the cake. When you write a song that you love, you can ride that high for months, you know what I mean? Maybe even a year. But when people sing it back to you at a show, it's like, "Oh my god, that's really cool."

Z: Is there any song you used to perform with My Chemical Romance that you actually miss performing?

F: Yeah, you know, I mean, yeah. Some of those songs are really fun to play. 

Z: Because you talk about just people hitting, that energy of the crowd just hitting you back with a record.

F: Oh yeah, that never gets old. Even if it's a song that you've played a million times, to play a song and have people just sing louder than the band is, that's insane! It's great.

Z: It's power.

F: It really is, you know? To be able to do that in multiple projects is crazy. I feel so blessed to be able to be able to do that kind of stuff. It doesn't feel real, it's something- all I ever wanted was to be in a band and to write songs that people would maybe sing along to. That's all I ever wanted. That was my dream, you know? I didn't think I'd ever get it, you know what I mean? But to be here now doing this for like 20 years finally? Yeah, it's crazy.

Z: You are making New Jersey proud.

F: Aw, thank you. New Jersey is never proud.

Z: Let's be honest about it, we really don't give a shit! But I'm just gonna tell you that they're happy.

F: I appreciate it, thank you.

D: When you're talking about people singing back to you, what do you remember from the Reading festival in 2011? Because that performance was amazing.

Z: It changed his life.

F: Oh, were you there?

D: No, I wasn't there, but I watch it on Youtube all the time.

F: Oh, right on. That was a dream come true. I remember, it's funny, I remember thinking as I was playing, "I'm going to remember this for the rest of my life." And then also thinking, "Oh my god, Brian May's coming up soon, and I better fucking nail it. Because I will remember that for the rest of my life." That was crazy, man. I still can't believe it. That feels like a dream, you know? The only reason that I know it's not is because I see footage. I can see footage of it, yeah.

Z: You can watch with Dan.

F: Yeah.

Z: Once a week.

D: If you wanna watch it together one day, I'm down. I've seen it probably 20 times.

F: Oh man. That's awesome.

D: It was such a good performance.

F: There was a lot to unpack about that time in the band, right? And the mindset behind it because we had had bad experiences at festivals, at Reading, at Download, and things of that nature. There was a very combative feeling. And then also too, if you really know all the ins and outs of the band, at that point too, we were pretty sure that the drummer that's on that show or that recording, was stealing from us and kinda fucking us over and it was really crazy. There was a real weird thing happening. But we knew that this was an important show, we weren't gonna let him take that from us. So, there's so much happening.

Z: Do you let him know that you know before you go onstage? 

F: No.

D: You can't.

F: Well, I- this is a very weird touchy conversation to have. That whole thing really broke my fucking heart because he was a really good friend, I thought he was a really good friend. I had a walk and talk with him around that time like, "Hey listen, if there's anything going on, you might not be able to tell anybody, but you can tell me. Please feel like you can tell me anything," blah blah blah, and he was like, "Yeah, no, everything's cool, man." And then two weeks later, we caught him. 

Z: Was he with you guys from the beginning?

F: No no no no, this was somebody else that came in. But I feel in my heart he would've been the drummer for My Chem. I think all of that stuff really played a role in having the band come to a close, but I think everything was for the best. 

Z: I can't even imagine the whole situation because even bringing any new member into any band, whether the band's been around for a few weeks or years, that's a hard situation.

F: Yeah.

Z: I mean, musically it's hard, business it's hard, there's new personalities that now can clash with the group. 

F: Yeah. It's a shame.

Z: It's a lot.

F: Yeah. It's a shame, man. It's a shame. It's one of those things that I still can't make sense of in my head, all these years later. It really was a real painful one. It was really really fucked up. Yeah.

Z: I feel your pain.

F: Here's the thing. When you are in a band situation with somebody, you tour with somebody, you live life together, you live in such close quarters, you become really close, you know? And you think of them as family.

Z: You have to.

F: You have to, yeah. And when that doesn't work out- I remember recently, I had a relationship with a musician that I was like, "Oh man, we're like family," kind of thing and then found out later on that the friendship didn't really mean much to that person, that hurts so bad, you know? But it's life, you know what I mean?

Z: That is life. 

F: Yeah, it happens.

Z: But it still hurts!

F: It still hurts, yeah.

Z: I understand that situation too well, and I really know. But you learn from it hopefully.

F: Yeah. Yeah, you do. And here's what you learn, is to not cut yourself off completely because your'e going to miss out in the grand scheme of things. It's easy to be like, "You know what? I'm never gonna care for another friend or look out for somebody else or consider them family, and let anybody else in. I'm gonna be a fucking hard nosed prick the rest of my life." It's like, no, why do that, you know? You suffer more than anybody else. 

Z: But that's not something you learn right away. 

F: No no no, that's true, yeah.

Z: Because I'm sure after that drummed fucked you, every wall went up.

F: Oh yeah, yeah, definitely.

Z: You probably went on red alert, questioning everybody's integrity.

F: That was rough. When I think within that band, that really broke us hard. And I think, I don't wanna say that it was the final straw, but it was one of the final straws of the band. Just be like, "You know what? The curtains are gonna close on this."

Z: Because it's hard to move forward with a clear, I mean, vulnerable but also you need to have a mind that trusts those around you, right?

F: Yeah, I think so. Well, again, I think that goes back to being an artist and having that thin skin and being able to take in and put out all of this emotion, and really make sense of the things that you're experiencing around you. That's hard, man. It's difficult to do that and still be sane at the end of it, you know what I mean? And then have healthy relationships, it's crazy.

Z: As you bring up emotional barriers, I think it's the right time to tell everybody to listen to Barriers.

F: Oh, thank you.

D: I have another question or two.

Z: Okay.

F: Oh, go.

Z: Frank Iero and the Future Violents.

D: Well, I just see a lot of people online commenting on how young you look. 

F: Ha!

D: And how you haven't aged in years.

F: I don't know if that's true. 

Z: Is it the veganism?

F: Definitely not, I don't know.

Z: Is it all the Beyond patties?

F: The stress of trying to find vegan food?

Z: In New Jersey! That's your problem!

F: In Jersey, it's stressful. Here...

Z: It's everywhere!

F: We go on an eating splurge. We haven't stopped eating since we've been here.

Z: Do you just go to the one place in Montclair all the time?

F: Ah man, I like Veggie Heaven. I do, I do eat at Veggie Heaven. It's good. It's harder out there, but out here, that's how you get us. That's how you get us. It's the food is so good, the weather is so good, we're like, "Oh man, maybe we should move to California again." And then you get out here and you're miserable so.

Z: You feel the stress of the city, the selfishness that flows through the streets.

F: It's a lot like Ghostbusters 2, yeah.

D: Now, my last question, and it's a dickhead end of the interview question.

F: Oh no! You're gonna try to get a click, aren't you? Goddammit.

D: Are you-

F: Dan! Don't do it! Don't do it!

D: No, I have to do it.

F: You don't have to do anything!

D: You don't have to answer!

F: Pfft.

D: Are you aware of Joe Jonas' comments.

F: Come on, man. What, do you think I'm stupid?

D: So what do you think about Joe Jonas' comments?

F: I don't understand why you would do an interview about your band, and talk about someone else's band. I don't get it.

D: But I think that just shows even The Jonas Brothers were My Chem fans.

F: Well, I don't know. Maybe that's true. Maybe I think... I don't know. I think they're trying to rebrand their band as like a real rock band, and they're trying to mention as many rock bands and try to get synonymous with other things, and people aren't gonna forget that you're a Disney band, bro. I'm sorry. It's not gonna happen.

Z: Lovebug is gonna come again.

F: I don't know what that is, I'm sorry!

Z: On that note, Frank Iero. 

F: Mhm.

Z: Yes! Woo! Barriers is the album. Please, Frank Iero and the Future Violents. Appreciate your time and energy, sir, thank you so much.

F: Oh, it's my pleasure. Thank you.

Z: You rock.

[playunderground]

Introducing OVERSOUL: An Interview with Derrick Saladino

Last month, I had the pleasure of sitting down with Derrick Saladino to talk about his brand, OVERSOUL. When he pitched OVERSOUL to me in his initial email, he described it as “a lifestyle brand created from identity crisis,” and that “counterculture/subcultures like anime, gamer, emo-punk, euro-techno, and underground hiphop/b-boy culture heavily influence the brand’s creative direction.” I stared hard at the first two influences, and then stared not-as-hard at the rest of the influences, wondering how these various subcultures could overlap.

My brain being comprised of worms and dirt, I assumed that the anime and gamer influences meant that the designs were going to look like Bart Drinking Lean or Sasuke Wearing Supreme. (In other words, a caricature of anime-inspired Instagram ad streetwear.) This assumption changed quickly after taking a look at OVERSOUL’s site. Their first collection, ISEKAI, is comprised of three pieces. The logo tee and hoodie both look great, but the third piece was what really caught my attention: it’s a button-down tee adorned with daggers. At a glance, it looks nothing like anime- or gaming-inspired clothing. This was the point at which I snapped out of my irony-poisoned haze; the world of memeified, ironic-but-not-quite-ironic hentai tees and Goku Smoking Weed edits had calcified my expectations of what forms of inspiration a brand could and couldn’t pull.

It makes sense in the context of the rest of his influences and the ethos that he operates under – to get ahead of myself for a second, Derrick had this to say of his interest in various countercultures:

"When people express their passions or life to a certain degree, it just pulls me in. It’s like, ‘Okay, I don’t know what the fuck it is, but show me. Let me indulge.’ That’s really how I get into things."

In talking to Derrick, on and off the record, I saw a talented designer who was unapologetic about what he was interested in and passionate about. He’s also a huge geek that runs a bi-weekly Smash tournament at a local nightclub.

(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)

"Okay, wait, first and foremost, my name is Derrick Saladino and I am a fucking gamer. Before being a designer or anything, I am a fucking gamer. "

Daniel: What is OVERSOUL? 

Derrick: OVERSOUL is about identity crisis. It’s my experience dealing with that personally. Growing up, I never really fit in to particular popular groups. Every time I would attempt to make new friends, I would stumble upon the randomest shit: anime culture, gamer culture, I’d end up becoming friends with a lot of emo-punk kids, techno. Nothing that I fell into was mainstream, popular culture. It was a lot to do with being lonely and trying to make friends. With OVERSOUL, thinking about all that kind of shit, dealing with identity crisis – obviously there’s a lot of people who’ve been through that – I want to create a new identity or community of people who share similar values and, you know, take pride in it? 

I mean, even the name, OVERSOUL, I ripped the word from this really old anime that I used to watch growing up, Shaman King.

Shaman King? What the hell, like 4Kids shit?

Yeah. That wasn’t the first anime that I ever watched, but it was something that I was really into. From being like 12 to even later in my high school, I just loved it. The concept was so cool – taking a soul and imbuing it in an object to make it powerful. It just looked fuckin’ sick. When people wear my clothes, I want them to feel empowered. That’s how I want people to see it. Soul being clothing, putting it on yourself, there you go.

Spirit Integration is, I don’t think the tagline to the brand, but it’s also part of it. Spirit Integration is mind, body, and spirit, and for anyone into the spiritual side of life, that’s what makes us. Our thoughts and mind and DNA – that makes us who we are.

When I read the description on your site, I noted that you referred to OVERSOUL as not just a startup streetwear thing or a brand, but a conceptual design experience. What does this encompass, and why did you pick this specific wording?

None of the stuff I make or have made in the past is very conventional. It’s been pretty avant-garde, I would say. I’ll have an idea, and regardless of whatever trend is going on right now, I just fucking do it. When I make clothes, I’m not making clothes for the public, really. My mentality is more like, “You know what would be sick in a game? If the costume looked like this.” That’s why I say it’s a conceptual design experience.

Has being involved in the industry and working behind the scenes affected how you understand your own brand after launching? What about how you understand customers and other brands, now that you know what the design process is like?

First-off, let me just back up and go over a history of what I did before OVERSOUL. In high school, I made clothing because I hated what everyone else was wearing. This was 2011-2013. During that time, that’s when I had a brand and brands like Obey, Diamond Supply, and The Hundreds – literally peak Tumblr hypebeast, Zumiez, starter pack shit – were around. I looked around at everyone else and was like, “I can’t click that, it’s not resonating with me.”  I had two other brands after that, and then came OVERSOUL. So I have this history of kind of knowing the market, even being a consumer, and evolving as a businessman and designer. I don’t think anything has changed. I think I’ve always stayed true to doing my own shit, rather than trying to compete with everybody else. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll notice what other designers are doing and some things I’ll take note of or inspo from but I hardly think about other people, to be honest. I respect everyone’s hustle, I just can’t be doing the same shit.

Give me your top 3 video game fits.

Top 3, oh my god. Snake from Metal Gear Solid V – very techwear, utility as fuck. My previous brand before this was techwear, and I had to stop it because techwear is so hard to sell. 

I’m really into draping fashion. Cloud, Final Fantasy VII, it was the movie Advent Children – you play Smash, right? There’s two costumes in there: the black, and like this, not really skirt, but it covers up somewhat? All-black, huge sash going on, it reminded me of Yohji Yamamoto.

Something that I’m going to make in the future is inspired by Naoto from Blazblue. His outfit, I looked at it and I was like, “Yo, this could be fucking, like Chrome Hearts, like what the fuck? I’m just gonna abuse this character design, it looks amazing.” I think that fashion right now, what really gets people’s attention on social media, is just some crazy shit, I don’t mean dumb shit, but like, just has to be very bold, and I think that’s what Naoto’s character design is. His pants have this huge cross on them. I think that’s one of the most crazy things I’ve seen in awhile.

Let’s talk about Anime-den! It’s this thing that we started roughly 5 months ago. One of my best friends here, he actually works at Fortune [Sound Club, a nightclub in Chinatown], and he’s a music producer. We really bonded over clothes, anime and gaming, and we had this idea – I think we were just high as fuck one day – and I’m like, “Yo, you know what would be fucking dope? If we brought weeb shit into the club.” I think he was just joking around, but he was like, “That would be really fun to set up, we can do it.” 

[Weeb being short for weaboo, a pejorative term referring to those obsessed with Japanese culture to the point of fetishization and idolization. It’s been ‘reclaimed’ by some fans of anime, used ironically as a form of self-deprecation.]

So, the next day happens, we’re talking, and he asks me, “Do you actually wanna do it?”, taking it seriously. I’m astonished. I was fucking joking, you know? We were just some high guys. He pitches the idea to Fortune and they approve it. At this point, we’re like, “Okay, we gotta actually invest all our effort into this,” because we’re actually gonna do something that I personally haven’t seen anybody do before – bringing a game into a club, anime into the club.

It’s really cool. Just yesterday, the commentator from Vancouver Street Battle came to Anime-den. Pride? He commentated for Battle of BC 3 and Pinnacle. He has ties with Animebae, too. [Animebae is a local anime-inspired startup streetwear brand.] Who would’ve thought that this guy would come through? And he brought his friends. He was telling us that what we’re doing is sick, and hearing this from a guy of that calibre in the gaming or Smash community, it really shook us. We’re actually bringing in people who play the game seriously here. 

How has setting it in a club made it different from other tournaments that you’ve been to? How does the dynamic change?

It’s a little different because when it comes to actual competitive events, people have a different mentality when they enter. They’re there to win and they practice hard for it. As for Anime-den, it’s the total opposite. It’s very casual, we’re all just drinking, blazing, whatever. It’s just the environment where, you know, dim light in a club, there’s music going on in the back –I guess to some gamers it can seem distracting? But I think people, they don’t care. They just play. They’re just there to have fun. Totally different dynamic from an actual event. 

I think that the purpose of Anime-den is to bring people together. That’s literally what Anime-den is for.

Yeah, I just noted here that I think it’s consistent with your brand, in that you’re translating the intangibility of these digital spaces like anime and gaming that people bond over, and you’re putting it into a physical space and letting people actually further develop what these subcultures would look like in person. Like, when you think of anime or gaming in real life you think of Anime Expo or cosplaying or some shit – and that’s fine, people have fun with that [Editor’s note – I think it’s fun!] – but it’s not the only mode of expression. With events like this, I think it’s cool that you’re saying, “If you’re a gamer, there’s another avenue for you. You don’t have to dress up or anything…”

I mean, walking in today and meeting you, you wouldn’t have gotten the idea that I was super into anime or gaming. I just look like a regular dude, right? And my clothing gets inspired by it, but I don’t really look like I’m cut from the legit anime cloth. Choosing these lifestyles and putting it into this real aspect, I think it can appeal to everybody. People tend to judge a lot of things, but once you step into the Anime-den room, whatever perspective you have about anime to begin with, I’m pretty sure that changes. Man, the crowd, they look all the same as you do too. We’re all normal people, we just like cool shit.

I think we should talk about ISEKAI.

OVERSOUL’s first small collection was ISEKAI. Translated to English, it would be ‘a better world,’ and I named it that based off of the anime genre, isekai. When you watch these sort of things, it’s usually someone going to another world. For my first collection, I wanted to welcome people to my world. That’s why I chose ISEKAI. One of the big graphics for the brand was the blade shirt. [On the site, it’s name is the Beginners Dagger Shirt.] My reference for that was playing MMORPGs. Typically, the first weapon you get [in MMORPGs] is a short sword or dagger. I wanted to be like, “This is the start of my brand.” This is your starter item. It’s funny, when I tell people this – they’re always like, “I never thought…”

[laughs] It’s really cool!

That’s why I went with ISEKAI. This is what my world is. One of OVERSOUL’s long-term goals is actually establishing ‘my world,’ if that makes sense? There’s only a handful of designers who have, like, captured a signature silhouette. For example, Rick Owens. When you see [a Rick Owens piece], you know it’s Rick Owens. If Zara did the same shit as Rick Owens, you would look at it and be like, “That’s Rick Owens.” You wouldn't call it Zara. That’s what I’m trying to establish for myself, to create that silhouette for myself eventually in the future.

What’s up next for OVERSOUL? 

Hmm, how should I put this... should I leak something? I’m going to drop an accessories part sometime soon. That’s in the design process right now, but I’m looking forward to doing my next big collection.

There’s this one song that I found in the past during my peak weeb days: Plastic Love by Mariya Takeuchi. A couple of months ago, they released the first official music video for it, after like 35 years, which is fucking insane – they should have done that a long time ago. I totally forgot about the song until I saw the music video. It’s something that I could relate to before and can relate to now, and I definitely want to build my next collection based on Plastic Love.

I think Plastic Love works really well because I’m surrounded by that scene in Vancouver – I work in Yaletown, and that’s the Yaletown lifestyle. It’s very lustful, but you don’t care. It’s all fake shit, really. That’s what Yaletown culture sorta is. I wouldn’t say that I’m like that, but I think that I could definitely expand on the topic through my brand. It’s not necessarily identity crisis, but the genre and artist kind of make it a subculture.

There’s also a few collabs on the way. One with a music group, another with a tattoo artist. What I really wanna do with the tattoo artist – he does anime tattoos – is ero art. Like, erotica. I think it’s a slept-on art style. It’s not generally for the public, per se, so I think that it would be something worth making. Super ecchi, maybe line art. I want it very exaggerated, even bondage-type shit. 

There’s a lot of things where people are like, “Oh, that’s too much!” But you know what, it could be sick! This is why I do things solely for myself. As long as I get a reaction from somebody, I’m happy with that. Wanting a response, not even approval, just being acknowledged, that this shit exists, it motivates me to keep doing what I do. 

I thought about doing graphic design shit; anime erotica art goes really well with techno. That kind of scene, the way that European style posters are, if you take the art and fuse them together, it works really well. I’m like, “How come no one has done this yet?” 

So you’re treating it more like art and not just a part of anime culture?

I view anime as its own respective art, and with art, there’s no rules, so I can just take this and this, and bang. At the end of the day, everybody wants to see new and cool things. People are always going to have their own subjective opinions, but as long as you have their attention, you’ve already won the battle. That’s the mentality that I carry, that everyone has their own opinions. 

Last question: what are your top 5 video games?

You know, I was trying to prepare for this interview – I didn’t even think this would come up.

[laughs] Come on, man.

I’m gonna put Super Smash Bros. Melee on there – I’ve been playing it for so long, it’s literally been bonded with my DNA. 

I don’t wanna say Ocarina of Time, because I think that it’s everyone’s favourite, but I mean, it’s still up there. It’s an all-time masterpiece, but I enjoyed Majora’s Mask a lot more. The concept of the world being blown up by the moon, in-game time, the moon crashes in like 3 days, and you keep going back in time, skipping whatever, I think it was so much fun, so yeah. 

I really like Fire Emblem: Three Houses. It’s very recent, but I have so many hours on it already, and I can’t stop. I haven’t felt this way about a game in a long time. It’s so replayable. Once you finish Ocarina of Time, you probably don’t touch it for a while. When you play FE, you’re like, okay, let’s do the next one. There’s three houses! Even after doing all three, it’s like, “Oh, I’m gonna try again, but I’m gonna make this character like this.”

I grew up playing a lot of Roller Coaster Tycoon, unfortunately, but it’s fun. It’s not a typical gamer thing, but I love it. 

I might put Final Fantasy VII on there, too – when Aerith died, I real-life teared up, like, “Dude, no way, you’re really gonna kill her off like that? You gotta save her!”… and then she dies. I’m pretty sure after that happened, I didn’t touch the game for a week. I was actually emotionally harmed. I’m really into RPGs – being able to emotionally attach yourself to characters, I think it’s a beautiful thing. 

Any last things you wanna say?

I want my brand comparable to Chrome Hearts, MISBHV or Rude [Vogue]; when they have their own aesthetic and that’s what they do, that’s what I want to build as well. The idea that I take a lot of inspiration from gaming, it really shows.

Maybe I’m hungover, so I can’t really find the words right now, but for anyone trying to do fashion, music, whatever, as saturated as the community seems at the moment, you just have to get your foot in the door and start. Yeah, there’s competition, but to be honest, with all the people here who have brands, I’m friends with all of the people who make them, and I have no judgement about if their clothes are wack or not. Some things I don’t agree with, but everyone’s on the same hustle.

OVERSOUL’s ISEKAI collection is available now online at oversoul.online. 

[antiquechampagne]

Beastly Kingdom - CH 9 - Greatest Show on Earth

( Photo by Aleksandar Pasaric from Pexels)

Liz loved watching the bustle around the park for the nearly invisible signs of her plan showing themselves. The invisible cogs quickened their pace when she received word the General was on his way from Sanctuary. Everything was coming together, even better than she had anticipated. As the General entered the park late in the afternoon, her sealed final instructions made their way to the respective gang leader. Liz decided to put Nate up in her penthouse for the night, satisfied with Dixie and Gage standing guard so no one would dare to try any funny business. The General wasn’t too happy about spinning his wheels for the night, but Liz had a few more final touches to complete before the show could start.

The sun rose in a hazy sky, but Liz had little time to sit and enjoy it, she had been up for hours. Dragging nearly ever raider to one place was a serious pain in the ass. The only venue large enough to house everyone was the main Nuka-Town square, right outside the circular market. A rudimentary stage had been built to add height and extend the 'map alcove', allowing those on stage to look down at the gathering crowd. Liz counted on the long-standing animosity to prompt self-segregation between the gangs. All she had to do was seed the prospective areas with the certain people to make sure each gang stayed in the zones she designated: Operators to her left, the Pack to the right with the Disciples milling about in the middle.

It was growing close to eleven when Liz got word that everyone was in attendance, the final few drug to their spots by an ornery Gage. She stood at the side of the stage as Mason and the rest of the leaders shuffled around off stage, trying to hide their boredom but keeping a cool eye on Nate. The crowd was getting restless. Liz let them stew a few minutes longer than was strictly necessary before ascending the steps, the other leaders trailing behind her.

Standing at center stage with her entourage flanking her, Liz looked out, quickly scanned the faces and belted out, “ALL RIGHT! EVERYONE, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

The crowd fell silent. She felt her voice could carry to the very corner of Nuka-World.

“I know what you assholes want to hear, but you… and the General…“ She glanced behind, glancing Nate up and down. "Are going to have to wait.” She heard a shuffle as, on cue, Mason guided Nate to upstage right, Mags and Nisha backing to the other.

“I want to make it absolute clear to each one of you sons-of-a-bitches here, that what we have here in Nuka-World is something unique… something fucking special. You aren't going to find anything like this anywhere else. And, as your Overboss, I'm not going to let anyone or anything take Nuka-World from us. I will do anything to keep us safe.” The crowd was drinking in her words. She decided to step it up a notch.

“Who’s going to keep you safe?” A weak chorus answered. She gave a death-glared down at the crowd, arms crossed. “Who?”

“The Overboss!” That was better.

She wanted more. “WHO?”

Nearly everyone was on their feet now “THE OVERBOSS!” Their answer thundered, followed by whoops and flailing weapons.

“That’s how I expect a true Nuka-World motherfucker to answer!” Liz puffed her chest out. “And who’s the baddest motherfucker in Nuka-World?”

“THE OVERBOSS!”

She thrust her hands out, quieting the cheering crowd.

“You’re damn right.”

She couldn't stop a smirk from spreading over her scarred lips. Time to make them shit their pants.

“Now, I want you to meet the newest member of the Nuka-World family.” She slapped her thigh, as if calling a dog to her side, only instead of a whistle; she let out a low growl.

The crowd glanced around nervously, confused. In the distance, a deep rumbling growl answered. Liz's smirk bloomed into a full on grin as she watched the audiences faces fill with fear. They all knew that sound. She just stood and drank it all in.

Behind the stage, a huge black clawed hand rose from inside the closed market and grasped the roof. With a swift feline-like grace, Big Mama made her entrance. Vaulting herself over the structure, the huge glowing creature landed with a thump next to Liz, snarling. The scattered screams and horror-filled eyes staring from the crowd was totally worth clearing out the market in the dead of night to lock Mama inside with a huge pile of meat.

Liz casually scratched Mama’s chin. “Say ‘Hi’, Big Mama” she prompted.

Mama trumpeted loudly, a supersonic shock wave knocking back the throng, several people in the front blown over by the force. The crowd semi-recovered, but were still frozen, unsure how to react.

In a distant corner, a single triumphant roar rippled across the impromptu theater.

"Fuck YEAH!"

The sound seemed to break the spell, as the entire crowd broke into a raucous applause, shouts and gunfire. Liz let the audience party as she directed Mama to stay behind her, motioning to her underbosses to join her by her side. The crowd, having released some nervous energy, naturally calmed down to where she could address them again.

“Now,” She walked to the edge of the stage. “Let’s get down to serious business at hand. There are only two organizations that pose any real threat to Nuka-World: The Minutemen and The Brotherhood of Steel. Our very existence is a bloody thorn in the side of the Minutemen's peaceful and flavorless vision of the Commonwealth. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, would cream themselves if they got their hands on all our pre-war tech and fire power. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that shit out. I'd been planning for since we started to expand outside of the park."

"Here, imagine my surprise when the Minutemen’s very own General Popsicle walking through the doors, offering a deal nonetheless.” Liz walked over to Nate, stretching her arm over his stiff shoulders. “Gotta hand it to’em, that took balls. More than I thought any Minuteman might have.” She gave him a little squeeze as her other hand slipped her knife out of its sheath on her hip. "But this deal, it got me thinking. -Thinking hard- about the future of everyone here. Here we are sitting pretty in our park, but how can we become something even stronger... spread our influence over the all Commonwealth, maybe even further? Would an alliance with the Minutemen be worth it?" Letting go, Liz began to pace next to Mason, picking at her teeth with the blade. "Just ask Gage... I thought about all this shit ‘till my brain was leaking out my ears. Then, I locked myself up tighter than Bradberton's hidden office bunker to figure all this out."

She made her way over to where three of raider leaders stood. This time she hung herself between the Black siblings, one arm draped over Mags' shoulders, the other over her brother. She still held her knife loosely, weaving it idly through the air under William's chin as she spoke. "I talked to all my underbosses about it, feeling everyone out. Getting their input, as it were."

Liz pursed her lips as if in thought for a moment, every movement calculated to pull in the audience's attention. With a disappointed shake of her head, her blade straightened itself on William's the stubble-speckled neck. "I hate to say it, but one gang just wasn't on-board with my plan." Her free hand gripped Mags metal clad shoulder. "And that is just unacceptable. I won't stand for it." It was so hard not to smile as she watched the shock and fear once again creep over the watching crowd.

Without another word, she swiftly turned the blade away from William and plunged it straight into Nisha's neck. Blood gurgled to her lips. She slumped to the floor. Mason grabbed Nate, whisking him off-stage to safety. On cue, the trusted senior members of the Operators and Pack in the audience unleashed a deadly storm of bullets on the Disciples sandwiched between them, slaughtering many before they even had the chance to draw their own weapons.

"NO!" Dixie sprang on Liz, her blades already drawn, her shock quickly dissolving into a murderous rage. "YOU DOUBLE-CROSSING BITCH!"

Liz didn't even have to move. She watched and grinned as a giant clawed hand effortlessly pinned Dixie to the boards. With a guttural snarl, Mama's giant jaws latched onto Dixie's metal-strapped helmet, crushing the life out of her lover in a matter of moments.

"Careful now, Mama," Ignoring the occasional projectile, Liz coaxed Mama to reluctantly let go of the twitching body. With a few quick slashes, she removed a few choice bits of metal armor. "I don't need you getting anything unpleasant stuck in your teeth. There you go, sweetie. Go to town." She gave an affectionate thump on the deathclaw's luminous hide.

A bullet grazed the Overboss's shoulder, causing her to wince. Turning on her heels, she faced the crowd, searching for the offending shooter. Once she locked eyes on the desperate man, she quickly dispatched him with a knife to chest.

"Ugh, seriously?" Fussing over her bloodied sleeve, she returned to Mama, who was happily munching away in the middle of the stage. The screams and gunfire began to wane. She gave the glowing creature a scratch before returning to the edge of the stage, looking at the bloody, body-filled ground where hundreds of people had once stood.

"Where were we... ah, yes. The plan. The remaining gang leaders have been briefed on the plan and have agreed to the terms." She motioned to Mason to bring Nate back on stage. He was looking decidedly greener around the gills. "Those terms being as follows. The Nuka-World raiders will aid the Minutemen in their offensive to end the Brotherhood. We will withdraw all our settlements and cease any expansion into the Commonwealth, keeping to Nuka-World." Liz pulled a cigarette from a pocket and lit it "In return, the Minutemen will share the spoils, as well as give us access to all established trade routes, along with exclusive and complete control to all chem trade and mercenary contracts within the Commonwealth," she nodded to the Blacks and Mason, respectively.

Nate, recovered, nodded in agreement. He stretched out his hand. Liz grabbed it, pulling him in close. "You're gunna love this next bit... soldier boy..." she whispered to him, pulling a lung full off the cigarette.

Liz gave a nod to Mason, who pulled a cowering Dr. Mackenzie up on stage. Liz reached into her pocket and pulled out a chunky black remote. Mackenzie gasped. The doctor knew a bomb collar detonator as soon as she saw it.

"Not only are we going 'legit', but, as an act of good will...“ Liz opened a compartment on the side, slipping a key into the waiting slot. As she turned, the red light on the detonator and Mackenzie's collar turned dark, the lock sliding open with a clunk. "All of the traders are now free to go and do as they please." She puffed, releasing a long stream of smoke. "However, as an incentive to stay and help Nuka-World grow, I am officially setting aside the town Bradberton as an area for anyone who wants to settle down in, under the complete protection of the Pack, of course."

Mason released a bewildered Mackenzie. All she could manage was to nod of comprehension, slowly skittering off stage as soon as Mason let go of her shoulders.

Liz turned back to the crowd. "And just to be crystal clear on this... anyone not on board with my plan..." she opened her arms dramatically before the sea of bullet ridden bodies before her, "can see my established termination policy." The whole park was as quiet as the grave, all except for the wet crunching of bone and meat from Mama and her meal.

"Seems we are in agreement then! Who's up for making the Brotherhood and the Commonwealth our little bitches?"

Every corner of Nuka-World rang with their thunderous answer.

[soldierallen]

Married. 5

Summary: you're in love with Sebastian and you're one of his three best friends however he finds a women he loves and marries her.

Featuring: Chris Evans, Alexandra Daddario, Robert Downey Jr, Tom Holland, (Henry Cavill & Anthony Mackie on the phone/ in a flasback) Sebastian Stan.

Warnings: a very villainous Alexandra, probably a few curse words?

Part 4:

÷

"I'm sorry I called I didn't know who else to go to" she paced her living room, the quiet settling in Chris looking at her as she paced and explained

"Its okay I'm always here for you, you know that" he smiled a reassuring smile at her he knew she needed the reassurance when she called.

she hated asking for help she wanted to be independent do everything herself however that wasn't easy for her when she was always shy and an only child she never had anyone growing up until she was 11, met Chris they became the bestest friends then soon met Anthony, a year later they met Henry and Sebastian.

○○○○○○○○

"Okay I've made a big mistake a huge one" she looked at the four boys on the couch pacing back and fourth they followed her with their eyes

"What did you do?" Anthony asked

"I told my grandmother I had a boyfriend so she could stop setting me up on dates with her friends grandsons you gotta help me" she stopped pacing, her knee bounced up and down waiting for someone to stoop in save the day, crickets.

"Oh thanks guys FUCK" she nervously fixed her hair in an angry ponytail

"There's a guy I know that would love to take you" Chris said, the other three not following because well they didn't know who he was talking about

"I have a friend named Tom he owes me a favor" Chris said tapping his fingers on the arm chair

"You're serious? He's human right?" She asked

"Yes I'll ask him when I get home" she hugged Chris

A day had passed and he introduced them

"Y/n this is Tom Holland, Tom this is Y/n y/l/n" they shook hands "it's nice to meet you" "You're even more beautiful in person" Tom blurted out she blushed profusely he was a charmer.

"Whatever you need, I'm ready to do it no excuses" he said, Chris smiled at the interaction between the two they looked really cute together he hopes they make it far.

And from that day forward she knew the lengths Chris would go for her.

○○○○○○○○

"I'm having a mental breakdown"

"Did you tell him about alex?"

"No I couldn't get to that part! I said I'm not going to your fucking wedding and I stormed off - I yelled at him i told him don't answer that fucking phone let me talk to you he answered it and my brain let hell break loose he never chooses me" She finally stopped pacing looking back and fourth as she stood up her nail digging into her skin trying to pull the skin off, a nervous habit she couldn't help it.

"Hey hey hey, you're stressing over nothing okay" he got up quickly to bring her to the couch " y/n You're in love with this man since I can't even remember how long, you can't stop loving him I understand one hundred percent you deserve to be happy" he cuddled into her on the couch her head on his chest his arm around her "but Whatever you think is right for you, do it you know yourself better than anyone else what you decide is purely what you know is good for you"

she closed her eyes and pulled in a breath letting it flow out through her nose "I think it's better if I just stop talking to him all together, I'm delaying it only because I don't want to lose him" he nodded he knows once this all blows over she'll lose him for good.

"I know" he held her stroking her hair "If you think that's good for you do it-" the door was knocked on

"hide" she whispered to Chris he stood up walking to her room closing the door behind him, she stood up fixing her clothes she had one of those chain locks, she opened the door the noise of the lock chain locking the only noise heard she looked out

The devil herself.

She shallowed not ready to face another problem today.

She opened the door fully but not letting her in, "what now?"

"I know what you saw, you seen me at the coffee shop and Henry saw me check in I know both of you know, you're not going to ruin my whole life that I built with one phrase said to Sebastian, we love each other"

"You don't fucking love him, you're cheating on him for God's sake!! you've been lying to him for months we caught you" Y/n was done being scared of her

"Well daddy knows you're CEO, you wouldn't want to loose your job at the company? Right? You're the creative director of the company. You wouldn't want to loose this opportunity all on a bad rep."

"Don't play dumb games like this were old enough to know right from wrong"

"Don't play god and you won't have to play games, Sebastian will find out sooner or later but If it comes out of your mouth you've got a lot coming y/n, if I go down you're going down with me" she said her piercing blue eyes staring right at her, getting closer to her face. this is what she was afraid of Sebastian and her job, Sebastian was going to end things with her whether he likes it or not and Alex was going to get her fired.

"Tell me one thing, why are you leading him on like this why are you... destroying him like this Sebastian could have such a full life"

"It's like playing with toys, you have the one toy you love bring it everywhere with you show it off it means the world to you without it you don't know what would happen, but then you come home and you see that one doll you bought awhile ago it's not the prettiest in the bunch, if anyone knew you liked the old doll better they would call you a hoarder you don't want to be a hoarder so you throw everything out and only have the nice pretty thing in front of you but right behind your closet door sits the doll you've loved your entire life" She said in such a villainous tone, y/n was taken a back

"Go home you nutcase" and she shut the door on her face, y/n held her breath and pulled out her phone clicking the stop voice memo the notification popping up

"new recording saved"

"CHRIS" she yelled out

"What the actual fuck" the door opened to her bed room he looked like nervous wreck, she locked the door behind her

"Is this women a villain from a comic book Jesus Christ" Chris said Clearly distraught from hearing that story

"I recorded the whole thing" she shallowed showing Chris her "New Recording" on voice memos he picked her up and sprung her around "you're a genius how did you know it was her?"

"I knew it was coming so I've been recording whoever comes to the door since the past four hours" she laughed trying to regain focus

"You're a sneaky little person" he smiled

"I learned from the best" she said his eyebrows furrowed

"Henry" she said nonchalantly

"Oh" he said

÷

"Mr Downey could I speak to you" she knocked on her boss's door she saw him her nerves circulating through her entire body they never truly spoke he asked for the work she did the work designing helping her team approving it and he was given the final approval and if he didn't like it all the work that everyone put since weeks could be thrown in the trash all in 5 seconds.

"You have the designs this early miss y/l/n?" He was confused looking at paperwork on his desk & back up at her

"Uh no not exactly I have to talk about something important" she was at the risk of losing her job if she had the wrong thing.

"If you want a raise I can't give it to you right now" he said "No sir i- it's personal."

"Okay shoot?" He said giving her his now full attention, "sir I've been at this company for three years as the creative director you don't understand how grateful I am to have this job, to be in this community to have you the giving and loving man that you are hire me"

"Y/n You put in a lot of hard work it was a crime not to give you this job you clearly deserved it" he said very seriously.

"Thank you sir, I have made myself an enemy in the higher ups, Mr Daddario's Daugther.."

He nodded "that man does whatever his daugther says it's a dishonor for everyone who works for him" he shallowed fixing his posture a little "she's trying to get me fired, she's going to ask her father to tell you to fire me and find some kind of excuse" she tried swallowing her nerves which wasn't helping "I didn't want to come and do this, however I don't want to lose this" she looked around at his awards for the magizne they produced the awards for articles, a whole segment he did in the New York Times.

"Please don't fire me over a phone call"

He sat back on his expensive leather chair, he loosened his tie.

"I respect you I've always have but this...ive never respected you like this ever before" she tried not to show her smile but her eyes told a different story "you really want this job?" "More than anything sir" she said being very serious

"Well, if mr Daddario tells me to fire my best CD I'll tell him to stick it where the sun don't shine" he smiled standing up "Mr Downey thank you sincerely" she went to go shake his hand "nope this is a hug moment" he said she laughed and gave him a hug, she walked out she's never felt so powerful in her entire life it was only 4 days until the wedding she knew it was over today it was finished.

She laughed in the hallway jumping, she heard someone laughing a man she turned around it was Tom...Holland

"You're back" she said with a smile, they broke up for one reason only he was leaving to another country for a job in entertainment he was a director for movies and tv shows I totally supported him however we knew the long distance wasn't going to last it's been a year.

"You know every time I see you, you have this glow you get more beautiful every time" he smiled getting closer to her her face blushed she wasn't prepared for the compilment

"What are you doing here" she said gesturing to her place of work & trying to weigh down the redness in her cheeks "I came to see you, I know your friends wedding is coming I thought maybe we could possibly...go together" he said still smiling ear to ear finally face to face to a women he did absolutely fall in love with, she fell in love with him to but she knew it wasn't right for her.

"I'm going to ruin the wedding tonight actually" he gave her a questionable look "his bride has been cheating on him for months I didn't have the heart to tell him." "That's horrible" he said "I know, you still have the same number" she laughed "yeah" he said

"Call me tomorrow we'll catch up" they hugged, everything went smoothly the entire day it was great.

It was a late night coming home, it was one of those days where it felt like you want to just be alone sulk she had a mission though..

Stop that god damn wedding.

She changed out of her work clothes into normal clothes which consisted of a sweater jeans and sneakers, she made a conference call to the three boys "Its happening I have the keys in my hand and it's happening im freaking out" "Don't be nervous it'll look suspicious" Henry said "like Henry said chill we're gonna get through this together" Anthony said "I just I'm- I don't want to break his heart.. I never wanted to break his heart"

"His heart was going to get broken anyways" Chris said "Yeah but not by me."

At Sebastian's house

"Why is she not coming why won't she answer my calls" he said to himself as he brushed his teeth

"Babe who are you talking to?" Alex yelled out

"Nobody" he yelled back she came to the door and knocked on it he opened the door she wore a silk lacey nightie it's like she wasn't even wearing clothes..that was the idea I guess

"Baby what's wrong?" She said he spit in the sink "I didn't want to tell you cause I didn't want you to know, she's not coming to the wedding" he was really upset "who" she asked

"Y/n she got angry she was trying to tell me something and I wasn't caring I answered your phone call and she blew up on me when we got here, she screamed I'm not going to your fucking wedding my heart broke she's been with me my entire life I'm getting married to the women I love and she's not coming?"

Alex thought here's her chance to ruin it all.

"Finish I gotta tell you something" she patted his chest and sitting on the bed, he rinsed and sat next to her

"What's up" he said giving her a comforting look his hand on her leg

"I didn't want to tell you this I've been keeping this secret it's been killing me for months, y/n threaten to ruin the wedding because she's in love with you"

Sebastian's stomach turned he felt like he was going to throw up his nerves circulating through out his entire body

"What are you talking about?" He said his voice coming out shaky his nerves getting the better of him, this wasn't what he was expecting.. she's in love with me? He thought...why didn't she tell me why was she doing this

"She told me she's going go ruin the wedding and and - I don't deserve to be with you" her fake tears about to well up "I told her you're trying to ruin our lives at what cost?"

"For him to be with me, she's a psycho I told her if you ruin my wedding he'll never forgive you" her fake tears ran down her face he was soothing her through her "grief"

"I didn't want to tell you because you love her like your sister I wasn't going to ruin it for you I'm so sorry" she cried "Its okay I'm going to fix this" he stood up "what are you going to do?" She said wiping her face "ruin her like she did to you." He called her on the phone he was angry she threatened his wife? What kind of animal does that!

"Where are you" he asked trying to calm his anger

"I was coming over to you?" She said

"Don't I'll be there in 20 minutes" he said

"Seb what is this about?" She said

"Me and you everything" he hung up ready to get into his car and end his friendship with y/n.

Tagged: @hiddlestonstansworld @lovely-geek @imcalledflorence @misz-adrii @escapistdreamer-wishfulthinker @someplxce @cuddlesforlashton @coffeebooksandfandom @weasley16 @ilovethewayyourheartbeats @vogueworthy-barnes @xeniarocks @thisismysecrethappyplace @racheo91

[branlao]

a different mirror. pt2

well here you are Spongebob.   

We’ve spent all this time talking about what isn’t real, what doesn’t lead to contentment, and posited the critical inquiry of what/who are YOU and what the fuck do you want? Now is the time for answers!

my bad bruh,

I don’t have them.

No one has them.

Buddha doesn’t have them either. 

Remember that thing about the lamp? The quote that started everything off from that book you should read? (EVERYDAY ZEN BY CHARLOTTE JOKOBECK) That’s it. Buddha was just an example, he didn’t have the answers for you to step-by-step throw into a smoothie w/ kale and just drink til you find enlightenment. 

As Buddha once said, “i ain’t shit, you gotta do you fam.”

BUT WHAT IS THE BEST WAY TO DO YOU? FAM?

It’s meditating. 

But what is that? I’ll bet you tried before. Maybe you’ve incorporated it into practice, as a routine that you are pretty familiar with and are just curious to see what I have to say about it.

Or maybe you’ve tried it before and don’t get it. “This shit stupid. I’m bored. This shit isn’t working.”

Either way is fine. It’s just a tool. I’m not telling you to live and die by one fucking thing you can do to make your life good, I’m just recommending what helps me.

It’s productive to first start with what meditation isn’t versus what it is.

Meditation isn’t control.

Meditation is observation.

That’s it.

You’re not trying to do ANY “THING” really. 

What I mean by that is that you are not shooting for any conscious, actionable, ACTION when you meditate. You’re not searching for yourself, you’re not getting to deeper truths, you’re not calming your mind.

You’re really, kind of.. just sitting and breathing.

The reason meditation isn’t the aforementioned is because it’s just more of the same shit if you are approaching it from the perspective of self-betterment. It’s just a fad diet. It ultimately becomes you just whipping and taming the mind once again. 

Even Zen and mindfulness can become a part of the never-ending battle of good versus evil. What you should be doing versus what you shouldn’t be doing... 

This isn’t it. Chill out, bro.

Stop trying to whip and tame the mind. You can’t just say: “stop having that thought, it’s bad for you”; “stop doing this habit, this is unhealthy”; “stop loving this person, because they might hurt you if they don’t love you back.”

Every time you try to tame your mind it doubles back and lashes out. Homie is scrappy and belligerent, and fucks you up when you’re at your most vulnerable. The conscious mind is a dirty fighter. When you’re at your weakest point, inebriated, about to sleep, guards are down, your conscious mind brought his big cousin, childhood friends, and the rest of the fucking crew to roll through. He brought 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down.

But you had it coming. You slipped up, headass.

You can’t just stop having thoughts, or emotions by simply choosing not to have them anymore. Your habits, opinions and general dispositions towards intimacy, relationships and EVERY PERSPECTIVE you have to date isn’t as easy as simply making the choice of not having them anymore. If it was simple as making a choice to NOT have thoughts or these feelings, you’d be a fucking robot.

iOSYOU 3.2. 

   -fixed some emotional stability glitches    -stress-tested notion to find if ‘men are indeed trash’ (from iOSYOU 2.2)    -added different hues of brown for the shit animoji. (iPhone X, XS, XS+)

No. That’s fucking ridiculous. You’re not a machine. 

Every single thought, emotion, opinion that goes into your head is in there for a reason. So stop trying to beat yourself down for having them. They are or WERE allies, but what you need to realize is just because your views have gotten you through the past, doesn’t mean they’re always equipped to handle what’s going on presently in your life.

Life is dynamism. Life is flux.  ...and you are a part of life.

This means that you’re just a dynamic, ever-changing piece of an infinite, boundless puzzle... and you aren’t finished. 

This ‘you’ now isn’t going to be the ‘you’ in a minute. This ‘you’ now wasn’t the ‘you’ yesterday. This ‘you’ NOW isn’t even the same ‘you’ that was the ‘you’ when you first started reading this sentence.

So stop clinging to this self-concept of you. ‘You’ doesn’t necessarily make sense. You aren’t a list of your likes or your attributes. YOU’RE JUST YOU, ACCEPT THAT.

With that in mind, though, how do we proceed?

I get it. Life isn’t an acid trip where you’ve lost all sense of individuality and have melted into the grass that is everything like your grandparent’s carpet in the house they had 2 years ago. You have to get on with your day. You don’t want to run into an existential crisis at every turn today because you no longer have a self-identity. 

But your focus should be on being adaptable. 

Your self isn’t the notion of selfhood that you created at one point in time when you first wrote your Myspace or Facebook bio. It’s constantly changing.  Your likes and dislikes and taste for food, music and clothes are changing. Your friends and social circles are constantly changing and evolving with their own new perspectives. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. Your attitude and dispositions to certain situations are going to be different now than they were 5 years ago (as they should be).

There is no need for added and undue stress on yourself right now trying to make your concept of selfhood adhere to a neat through-line. 

Walter White once said, “Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.” (or was that a different W.W.?)

With that being said, now, the stark reality is there isn’t a one-size-fits-all path to truly “finding yourself.” There isn’t a cure or a philosophy that truly gets it all down to pat. The only reason Buddhism or Zen is a workable system of thought is because it is a tool for you on the journey to finding YOU. Actual you. 

It is a practice for you to quell the incessant chatter that is constantly fogging or frosting up your windshield-- blocking your view of things-as-they-are or things-as-it-is (ily Suzuki-roshi).

Zen is the wipers. Zen is the defrosters, or the ice scrapers so you don’t crash. But you have to choose to use it. Hell, you don’t even need to drive your car, you could take the bus or walk. But if you want to get (T)HERE, then choose your tools carefully, and know that they are just tools. They aren’t going to fix all of your problems. 

If Enlightenment is the moon, Buddhism is just the finger pointing to it.

Buddhism ain’t shit. Zen ain’t shit. 

Fuck Buddha. pampered lookin, can’t handle sickness&death sheltered lookin, crash-diet/fatboi bodydysmorphic lookin, hippydippy tree-hugging tryna be woke-lookin BITCH.

It (IT as in true reality and existence) is so much bigger than this. IT is so much bigger than words and explanation.  There really isn’t even a point in trying to fucking explain IT.

With that being said, that’s it. Buddhism and the teaching are just words. Real practice is meditation and just living life as directly as you can, keeping in mind that you just want to do and try your best. That’s it.

There’s plenty of things on how to meditate, and if you are so inclined look them up. Really, because my shit is probably not going to be that helpful, but here’s what I do:

Find a good spot to sit, or designate a specific place for sitting.

Set a timer - and COMMIT to the time. Usually 5 minutes is probably fine.

Take a position - half-lotus, full-lotus, sitting in a chair/posturpedic yoga ball. Whatever, just try to be as upright as possible so you’re not slumping. 

Start breathing without trying to control your breathing necessarily (there’s plenty of variation on literally all the steps I’m giving, so again look it up if you don’t fuck w/ my methods).

*Take care to tune in and pay attention to your breaths, with special attention to delineate your inhalations and exhalations:  “Right now I’m breathing in ANNNDDDD now I’m breathing out.” (you don’t have to say this to yourself, but set it as an intention). 

Sometimes it’s easier for people to count their breaths from 1-10.

 I.e.: (inhale)..... (exhale).... say in head “1″; (inhale)..... (*exhale).... *say in head “2″ ETC, etc, all the way to 10, then repeat the process. Seriously, whatever works for you. Change it up if you’re willing to find and experiment and play around with this general process. eyes open, eyes closed/different seating positions, whatever. Again, there is a long (ancient, even) substantial body of work on just the act of meditation, and I’m nowhere equipped enough with experience to formally teach you those, or be strict regarding the form, so look into that shit yourself. But what I’ve described should be workable, enough hopefully.

Thoughts will come up, no doubt. But remember, it’s not your job to control them. Don’t mentally spank yourself (*winkingface) for having these thoughts, no matter what they are, or what they’re about. Just notice these thoughts, and even feel the sensations of you having them. Tenseness in your body, confusion, the emotions rising. Just observe all of that. Then after you notice the thoughts and subsequent physiological effects, try to shift your focus on your breathing again. 

After a couple of minutes of this, you’ll learn that this shit is fucking hard.

Up until this point, you’ve trained yourself to run your thoughts into the ground and pump that shit to 11.  As soon as your brain came up with a particularly sexy idea, you’re so accustomed to toddler-you stretching the thought like playdoh, squeezing, rolling into a ball, making a thin log/turd/hotdog until that thought is dried out and stuck in the carpet.

Just try your best to return to your breathing until that timer runs out. 

Notice all this, but don’t block it out. 

Don’t run away. 

Your goal isn’t to change yourself.

Your breath is the anchor and a tool to ground you to RIGHT NOW. To this very moment.

And right now should just be you sitting and breathing.

Every time you wander off, just think “oh, here I am going off again...” then gently start focusing on breathing again. The goal is just to try your best until the timer runs out. After that, just get on with your life.

Chill out with your expectations.

Don’t expect everything to come out of fucking nowhere. That’s like expecting a six-pack after your first 5-minute session of crunchy-frogs and leg lifts, and the first time you say no to bacon on a fucking bleu-cheese burger. 

You’re not doing this FOR anything. 

You’re not doing this to GET anywhere. 

You’re not doing this to BECOME anyone. 

You’re doing this so you can start appreciating right now. 

You’re just really trying to keep it real. 

It’s a process, so try hard to work it into your day. 

It will really help.

And I’ll be here if you need me.

-bran

[officialleehadan]

Over the Edge

I’m falling.

If there’s anything I hate about fights on high places, it’s getting thrown off them.

Like now.

My attacker is a demon. I’ve been hunting him for a while now, and he’s got height, weight, and, well, everything really, on me.

I caught up to him on the edge of Hell, about where the mortal realm ends and the demonic one begins. Probably should have waited to jump him, but there wasn’t time. In the mortal realm, he’s a serious problem. In Hell, he’s damn near invincible and I don’t stand a chance.

Probably should have waited anyway. Maybe planned things out. That option stopped being an option when I finally caught up with him. See, the bastard had two kids with him. Human kids.

No human survives in demon company for long. I had to get them away before getting them away stopped being an option. My life is… well, it’s complicated, but I’m hard to kill. Even if I lose this fight, it’s worth it. I’ll put myself back together eventually.

But I still wish I had a plan.

No time.

Story of my life.

I got a few good hits in on him at first. Made him drop the kids, at least. Never would have gotten any more hits on him if he hadn’t, because everything I have that will bring him down would kill them too.

I did get one small victory. Or maybe not so small, since it means I win, even if I lose. While he was trying to get me with illusionary terrors, I managed to get a portal up, shoved the kids through it and closed it behind them.

Just me and him now, and he’s pissed. He’s gonna kill me in nasty ways if he can, and really, he’s got me seriously outgunned. I may not win this. Hell, I may not survive this.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve died.

Did I mention how fucking strong he is? Seriously, I’m no slouch, even by demonic terms, but he blocked my punches like they were nothing, and then tossed me over the cliff.

It took a minute for momentum to kick out and gravity to kick in.

Like I said. I’m falling.

It’s a long way to the ground, but not far enough to kill me unless I really screw the landing. Of course, there’s a big difference between ‘probably not going to kill me’ and ‘probably going to end in serious injuries’.

Broken bones will not make this fight easier to win. Depending on the damage, it may end this fight before I get a chance to really make a stand. That always sucks.

Fucking gravity. This is going to hurt.

Hitting the ground felt about like I thought it would. For a minute all I can do is try to breathe, because my lungs have decided not to work.

A few gasps later and I pull myself together enough to take stock of my injuries, and the stock is not a good one.

My right arm is broken in two places, whole right side of my ribcage is damaged, but I won’t know how badly until I try to move.

Right leg is hurt but not broken. Head… well, I’m woozy, but not unconscious. Probably just a concussion, and I can work around that now that I know it’s there.

The good news is that my demon pal isn’t sure exactly what I am, and hasn’t come down to check whether I survived that fall or not.

Yet.

As soon as I move, he’ll be on his way, and once he’s coming, I have about ten seconds- thirteen on the outside edge- to figure out a way to kill him.

No time. Again.

My original plan was to throw a bunch of grenades at him until he was a bloody smear on the rocks, but then there was the kids to deal with and that plan went out the metaphorical window and over the not-so-metaphorical cliff.

My handguns didn’t do enough damage to be worth trying again. All they did was piss him off more. I have a bigger gun that will probably kill him if I hit him right, but using it will hurt like a sonovabitch.

Modeled on a double-barrel tyrannosaur gun, this gun packed a hell of a punch before I customized it. I had to call in a bunch of favors to get the parts made, but it’s worth it. This baby has saved my life a bunch of times, and it’s worth every drop of blood I spent having it made. Not long after that, I learned how to make rounds designed with demon-hunting in mind.

They work on angels too, but it’s been a while since I had to shoot an angel.

None of that will matter if this guy kills me before I take a shot at him and I’ve gotta get the gun off my back and pointed at him before he takes my head off.

This would be easy, if I hadn’t just gotten thrown off a cliff.

Well, life’s full of little challenges.

Actually scratch the little. I’m pretty sure that Big, Green, and Evil has decided to make sure I’m dead, and is on his way down. Guess I better get my gun out.

Sitting up is hard when you’re hurt. Hardest part of fighting is always getting back up to keep going, and if I didn’t have a pretty good idea of what this guy was going to do to me when he finds out I’m not dead, I might just let him kill me.

Problem is he really wouldn’t just kill me. I hurt him. He’s gonna torture me before he kills me, and it will take a while before he goes too far, and I die.

Torture. Not my favorite. I mean, I’ve been there, done that, and gotten the tee-shirt, but I don’t want to do it again. Demons are good at making death a long, slow, painful process.

Painful deaths always suck more. It takes a long time to heal up after I die from torture. I’ll have to spend favors to repair whatever damage they inflicted before they got around to killing me. See, the magic will only fix the death-blow. All the rest I get to deal with the slow way.

Stupid demons. Them and their pride. Bastards.

I manage to get my gun into my arms and braced against my good shoulder, my busted ribs scream with every breath I take and I ignore them. I’ve got maybe nine heartbeats once he sees that I’m still alive and shooting.

In addition to being bigger and stronger, he’s also faster than me. God I hate fights like this.

He appears in front of me, big, bad, and bleeding. Nice to know he’ll remember my hard work for a while even if I don’t manage to finish the job.

I start to count my heartbeats.

One.

I aim, take the time to aim because I’ve only got one solid shot at him before he sees the gun.

Two.

His eyes widen, and he reflexively blasts me with pure terror. Adrenalin roars through my body.

My vision becomes sharper. I’m deaf to anything but the pounding of my own heart. My mind clamps down on my emotions the way it always does when I’m scared and fighting.

He doesn’t realize it, but he just did me a favor. Adrenalin screws everything up, except for the rare moments when it saves you. Fortunately for me, this is one of those rare moments.

Three.

I squeeze the trigger and the gun goes off like a thunderclap and echoes off the cliff above us.

The recoil slams my shoulder like a battering ram, and I try not to scream as it twists my broken parts in bad ways. This isn’t a gun to use when I’m this hurt, but I’m out of options and it’s now or never.

Four.

He wasn’t expecting the shot, and the double round gets him good. The blast throws him back nearly ten feet, gives me maybe another half-second to aim again. He’s bleeding a lot, and a big piece of scaly green chest is missing.

He’s dead already, just doesn’t know it yet.

If he kills me now, it’ll be a clean death because he doesn’t have time to draw it out. His own kind would tear him apart if he went back to Hell.

Small victories I guess. I keep counting heartbeats. This fight isn’t over, and now it’s a matter of ‘who dies first’.

Five.

Crap, he’s on his feet again. I was hoping for longer, but I’ll go with what I have. I fire again, and this time I do scream as my gun breaks my collarbone. There just wasn’t time to brace it right. I’ll pay for it if this shot didn’t kill him.

Six.

I got him in the head this time, and he’s down again. From where I’m braced, I can see part of his brain. I’m glad I can’t see more. He’s leaking something green, and it’s nasty.

Yes, I still get grossed-out by demon ooze. Four hundred years of demon-hunting and it doesn’t stop being icky.

Seven.

He hasn’t moved yet, and I inch my way into a sort-of stand against a boulder. There’s little bits of blue bone and green whatever-the-hell-it-is all around him, and a good bit of his head is missing.

I’m still counting heartbeats. He isn’t dead yet.

Eight.

He’s still not moving, but if I remember right, he’s supposed to be ‘devoured by flames’ when he dies. So he’s not out yet. Just down.

Maybe I’m gonna win this one after all. Who knew?

Nine.

I lean on my gun and hobble over, somehow managing to get one of my swords out as I do. I might have misidentified his type, but I don’t think I did, and there’s no reason not to make real sure he isn’t going to get up again.

It’s the work of a couple solid blows, but I cut his head off, and drop a grenade onto his chest. If he won’t provide his own flames, I’ll make some myself.

The explosion range isn’t all that far. I just have to get behind that boulder and get my head down. Not far, except that I have a bad leg and not long to get there.

It takes me two seconds to get behind the big rock. Would have been less if I was whole, but I’m not. Despite how much I hurt, I curl my body down as far as it’ll go.

Getting blown up only sucks a little less than demon torture.

Four seconds after I pulled the pin, and the grenade goes off. There’s a lot of smoke, and after a few breaths, I peer over my rock to see what’s left.

Little bits of demon are everywhere and they’re burning away in purple flames. Looks like I didn’t misidentify him. Good to know. Guess he’s really dead.

Yay.

Go me.

Ow.

+++

Demons Abound

Accidental Oops

Bloody Mirror

Blue Frosting

Brimstone Portal

Burn My Body and Bury Me Deep

Holy Protestation

House of Demons

On Repeat

The Gunsmith

The Wrong Victim

Vigilante Vampire

You Scratch my Back

+++

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[itsthesinbin]

A Reminder (Roadhog&OC&Junkrat)

Thank you, again, to Zephos for commissioning me! I love your oc and the plot you gave, so I was able to crank this out pretty fast!

Warning: This has some violence and blood, but nothing too graphic.

The oc in this fic is 15 years old, and this is purely platonic. If I catch anyone being nasty they’re gonna catch these hands.

This is a bad idea, Jenny thought. This is a REALLY bad idea. Roadhog and Junkrat- outcasts of Junkertown- guard their farm with as many traps and explosives as possible. But damn if Jenny wasn’t going to get some of the damn good scrap they like to hoard for themselves.

Greedy bastards, keeping all the good equipment and scraps to themselves… Let someone else have a chance at having good weapons, assholes!

Jenny stalked through the sparse, coarse grass that surrounded Roadhog’s old farmhouse. She’s sweating, can barely see as it gets darker, and nearly got her arms and legs caught in bear traps and explosives along the way. Good thing she knows how to disarm these simple traps.

The garage was so close… Whatever fuckin’ deity is up there, please look after her as she tries to creep in.

A slow series of beeps began as she set off a tripwire. She took a sharp inhale through her nose, scrambling away from whatever fucked up explosive Junkrat built to guard the garage. She screamed as a harsh rope clenched around her leg, yanking her up into the air. The explosive nearby beeped rapidly.

This was it. Her face was going to get blown off, and who knows what these two are going to do with her body.

She screamed as the crudely-made mine exploded into… a bunch of confetti. She got hit with pieces of metal, but was able to cover her face without it doing too much damage. She stared, dumbfounded, at the colorful strips of paper floating to the ground.

“Seems we caught another one, Roadie,” she heard, faintly, from inside the house. A man cackled, his footsteps uneven as he scurried out onto the porch. Someone even bigger stomped out after the squirrely man. She couldn’t look behind her, towards the porch, but she knew who they were. And she knew she was dead. She swallowed, thickly, as they walked over to her.

The two walked around, so they were in her sight. She looked up at their faces, seeing Junkrat’s grin, and Roadhog’s mask. Her eyes widened, and she took a few ragged breaths as the blood began running to her head.

“Tiny little thing,” Junkrat laughed, poking at her cheek with his peg leg. Jenny smacked the appendage away, nearly knocking the man over. “Feisty, too!”

“L-Look, I’m sorry- I’ll go I-I was just… I’m trying to find scrap-”. “So ya tried to steal ours,” Junkrat huffed, crossing his arms. Jenny swallowed again, trying to think of a way to defend herself. It’s so hard to think when the fear of death stabs at your heart, and the blood rushes to your head.

Roadhog’s hand moved, and his infamous hook dangled near her head. She stared at it, trying to ignore the awful feeling of her eyes watering and her tears pooling at the top of her eyes.

“Any last words, little pig?” Her mouth opened, but her brain wasn’t working right.

“Uh… what’s my meat gonna be used for- bacon or a pork roast?” Junkrat couldn’t help but snort at that one, a manic giggle escaping his mouth. Roadhog sighed. Hoping to appeal to Junkrat’s comedic side, she spoke again.

“Maybe instead of killing me, you can keep me around and I’ll hunt for Truffles?” Another laugh, another growl from Roadhog. Jenny let out a shaky grin.

“I may be a potbelly, but I got more fat on me than actual meat- you wouldn’t like it anyway”. Junkrat cackled as she patted her stomach.

“This one’s actually pretty funny, Hog! Not all the mess with the crying and the piss that we gotta clean outta the traps”. Oh, gross… Junkrat crouched down, sharp grin catching her attention.

“You’re lucky I’m feelin’ generous tonight, kid. How about you stay here tonight- don’t need you screamin’ when some raider or something tries to come by in the night- and we’ll send you on your way tomorrow”. Not wanting to make him angry by turning the offer down, she nodded, not able to find her voice. Junkrat stood, nodding to Roadhog.

“Cut ‘er down, Hog”. Jenny screamed as she suddenly fell to the ground. She groaned, not wanting to move after the painful landing. Junkrat laughed, grabbing her arms and pulling her up. She almost fell over again, but the tight grip on her small arms kept her upright.

“So,” Junkrat started, wrapping an arm around her roughly and nearly dragging her inside. “What’cha comin’ here for, again? Scrap?” Jenny nodded slowly, trying to ignore the giant looming behind them.

“I, uh… need some good scrap and, uhm… equipment to make some… some thingamajigs for myself”. What the FUCK was the word she wanted to use? Junkrat let her go when they were inside, giving her a curious look.

“Thingamajigs?” “You know… big stabbies”. Junkrat snorted loudly, cackling and coughing a bit from the sudden laughter. Jenny felt her pale cheeks flush in embarrassment. Even the stoic guard behind them chuckled.

“BIG STABBIES! Ya mean knives, mate?” “YEAH those”. He snickered, walking to the small kitchen. He mumbled “big stabbies” to himself, before a whole new round of laughter poured out of him.

She slowly walked into the living room, looking around curiously. It was decorated eccentrically- showing that Junkrat had been squatting here for a while. Junkrat’s little logo was on many papers and broken pieces of inactive bombs. As well as a spare peg leg.

Some… weird costumes were hung on a coat rack nearby, but she really didn’t want to know what they were for. Canisters of some kinda… stuff were laying around, as well. Jenny avoided moving anything on the floor as she, slowly, sat on the old, nearly broken couch.

Roadhog moved over to a small station that’s clearly his- spare gas masks sat on the table, and extra lengths of chain hung on the sides of the bench that made up his sitting area.

Junkrat plopped a glass of semi-clean water on the table in front of her, almost knocking the rickety coffee table to the ground.

“About your big stabbies,” Junkrat started, ignoring the glare Jenny gave him. He grinned slightly, flopping on a dusty recliner that let off a plume of dirt and grime.

“You got a blueprint on you, kid?” “Why would I bring a blueprint with me from home? Work on the go?” “Don’t get snippy with me,” Junkrat snapped, leaning back into the chair. Jenny took a sip of the water, grimacing at the taste a bit. Warm, dirty water. Yum.

“Left my blueprints at home. I was hoping to pop in, grab some scrap, and hurry back home”. “What kinda knives you tryin’ to make?” Jenny grumbled a bit, trying to get her thoughts together to describe her project.

“They’re like… knuckle-knives. Brass knuckle grips with pretty long blades”. Junkrat looked at her, curiosity and excitement in his eyes. She shifted nervously, avoiding looking at him for now. She was still a little nervous about ending up dead.

“Sounds pretty good, if you like getting your hands REAL dirty,” he laughed- a sick sound that makes a shiver crawl up her back. Roadhog grunted from his spot.

“Leave her alone, Rat. You’re freaking her out”. “Ah, shut up, Hog- if she’s talkin’ about slicin’ people up, it ain’t gonna bother her if I make a few cracks about it”. Jenny chewed on the inside of her cheek, taking another swig of water to avoid the conversation. Junkrat, not picking up on obvious social cues, turned back to her.

“So, you got anyone in mind to use those on? If not, I have a couple’a ideas,” he laughed, manic giggling- and grin- returning. Roadhog let out a low rumble. Jenny couldn’t tell if he was laughing or growling in annoyance.

“N… no one in mind, no. These are mostly for, uh… self-defense. I just… thought the designs were cool,” Jenny replied, looking down at the table. Junkrat mumbled- she caught the word “boring”- before looking her up and down.

“You even old enough to hold that thing right?” She frowned, sneering at him a bit angrily.

“I’m not a baby- I’m fifteen”. She heard Roadhog stop for a second behind them, but didn’t turn to look at him. The behemoth slowly returned to whatever he was doing as Junkrat barked out a laugh.

“Fifteen?! How’re you walkin’ around Junkertown at night, trying to steal from US?! You’re young AND stupid!” Jenny was quiet. Yeah, she was kinda stupid tonight. Just… blinded by the idea that she COULD do this. She didn’t think about if she SHOULD’VE.

Right now, she REALLY wished she hadn’t. This man was making her uncomfortable, and she was still worried she’d get a limb blown off, or her gut ripped open by the giant hook quietly jangling behind her.

“Anyway,” she started, crossing her arms. “I think… I’d rather just try and get home”. She stood, heading towards the door. She heard Roadhog stand, and stomp after her, making her pause. He gripped her shoulder tightly, before opening the door a crack.

Screaming could be heard from near the entrance to the actual town, as well as a few gunshots. She didn’t even realize a whimper left her throat as Roadhog shut the door.

“You’re staying here,” he said simply. “Rat, leave her alone before I throw you out there to the dogs”. Junkrat feigned hurt, putting his metal hand to his chest in mock horror.

“I can’t believe YOU’D threaten ME, Roadie! After all we’ve been through together!” Roadhog grumbled, pushing Jenny back towards the couch. He went over to the wiry man, grabbing Junkrat by the back of his shirt. He all but dragged him to where his sleeping area was, making Junk whine and almost lose his footing multiple times. He was all but tossed onto the mattress.

Jenny watched as Junkrat grumbled and flopped onto his side. Roadhog sat down in Junkrat’s old spot, passing something to her across the table. Jenny looked down, seeing a barely-good apple.

“Not much- gotta get more food soon,” he huffed, leaning back into the worn recliner. She picked up the fruit, biting into it without much thought. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until she swallowed that first bite.

Being scared for your life sure makes you hungry.

She avoided looking at him. Jenny didn’t even know if he was looking at HER, with that mask in the way.

“Your parents know you’re out here?” She paused, giving him a look that told him to drop the subject. Thankfully, he did. She’s sure Junkrat would’ve pressed the matter until she threw something at him. Even then, she doubts that would deter him.

“.... I’m actually gonna leave the building, alive, right?” The question didn’t surprise Roadhog. Junkrat was… finicky with who he did, or didn’t, like. Many people came in when he finds them funny, fewer came out after he decided they weren’t. Roadhog sighed, and nodded.

“Yeah. Rat may be an ass, but he doesn’t like hurting kids”. If he can avoid it, anyway. Some people have gotten caught in the middle of their heists- in the wrong places, at the wrong times. Jenny wasn’t satisfied with the answer, but she went back to eating anyway.

The silence was unsettling. The only sounds were her crunching on the apple, and the small riots going on outside. She forced down her current piece of apple, looking back up at the giant in front of her.

“Where… am I sleeping,” she finally asked. He let out a small hum, nodding to the couch she was sitting on. It was lumpy, half broken, and she knew she’d wake up with a sore neck and back. She knew better than to argue, though. Can’t be picky when these men wanted to kill her just a while ago.

He got up, going over to a box against the far wall. He pulled out a ragged blanket and an old pillow, tossing the items to her. The pillow hit her in the face, but she caught the blanket. Both smelled stale. Guess they don’t get guests often.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, tossing the apple in a nearby trash can. Roadhog nodded, before finally going back to his own sitting area. She wrung the blanket in her hands, bringing her feet up and tucking them under her.

There was no way she could sleep here. Maybe she could try and escape later- when they’re both asleep, and the thieves nearby finally go away? That’s her best bet… She doesn’t want to end up as another blown up arm on the yard for someone to find on their property.

She dropped the pillow against the arm of the couch, slowly laying down and covering herself with the blanket. She didn’t even know she drifted to sleep.

Roadhog looked over when he heard her quiet breathing. He stood, walking as carefully as he can towards the couch. He peeked over the back, seeing her sound asleep. He huffed out a quiet laugh. She was either stupid, falling asleep in a house where the men were ready to kill her, or just exhausted after fearing for her life. After hearing her talk about her future weapons, he can’t decide which one is more likely.

With her asleep, he took off his mask to breathe. Rubbing his face, he sat back down at his bench. This kid was a moron- everyone in town knew not to try and steal from Junkrat and Roadhog, let alone just go onto their property unannounced. And she came here to take some damn scrap you could find literally anywhere?

He chuckled. This kid had balls of steel. He could respect that, but there were much better ways to get what she needed.

He finally stood after another hour, heading over to his own bed. He dropped onto it, rolling over to face the wall. He wasn’t worried about this kid trying to attack either of them. They’re light sleepers.

She woke up about forty-five minutes after Roadhog fell asleep. She took in a sharp breath, slowly sitting up. The lights were out. Both of the men were asleep. Rubbing her eyes, she threw the blanket off of herself. Alright, they’re asleep. Everything’s quiet- everyone is quiet. She can make her way back to her tiny home in the town.

Man, she really should’ve just risked the junkyard.

She checked to make sure the door wasn’t trapped, then slowly opened the door. She slipped out, closing the door behind her. She stared out into the dark slums, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Okay… she’s about to go back to the town, at night, without a weapon, when people were recently being attacked and possibly murdered.

That’s safe, right? Sure it is!

She took a deep breath, puffing out her chest, and striding down the actual path off of the trapped property. She made sure to keep a good eye out for any stray traps or mines that could be littering the path.

So far, so good. At least, until the door behind her slammed open.

“OI,” Junkrat screeched. “WHERE YA GOIN’, YA IDIOT?” She screamed, booking it down the path and out into the streets of the slums. Roadhog slapped Junkrat on the back of the head.

“Come on,” he grunted. “Why bother, Hog? If she wants to get herself killed, that’s her problem- not ours”. Roadhog let out a growl, putting his mask on and grabbing his weapons.

“If you’re not going, I am”. “Alright, alright- let me grab me launcher”. “Hurry up”.

She didn’t even know if the men were chasing her- she didn’t bother to stop, or look behind her. Not that she would really be able to see them, anyway. She can barely see in front of her, let alone- and, down she goes. What did she run into?

“Well, look at what we found”. Ah. She found some motherfuckers. She tried to catch her breath, grunting as her arm was grabbed and she was yanked up. A woman grinned down at her, dirty black hair nearly covering her missing eye.

“I know you- the little scavver that hangs around the junkyard. What’re you doing in the slums, girlie?” Jenny stayed quiet, opting to try and struggle away from the grip on her arm. The woman in front of her grabbed her jaws, forcing her to look up.

“When I talk, you answer, got it?” “Fuck you”. A harsh slap sent Jenny’s head jerking to the side. The woman snarled.

“You don’t talk to me that way, shrimp-”. An explosion caught everyone’s attention. A hook suddenly caught the person holding Jenny captive. They screamed as they were dragged back, only to be silenced by a junk shot to the face. The woman stared, slack-jawed, at her companion’s bloody body. Roadhog snarled, swinging his chain at his side.

“I suggest you get outta here, before my friend here turns you into a pile’a mush,” Junkrat laughed, popping another grenade into the air. It soared over the woman’s head, landing just out of range of her. It scared her enough, though, and she hightailed in the other direction.

Roadhog threw his hook anyway, snatching it around her and dragging her back. She screamed as the barbs dug into her stomach. Roadhog grabbed her shirt, lifting her up.

“You even think about touching her, and I’m dragging you to the outskirts myself. Got it?” Knowing better than to call Roadhog on a bluff, the raider nodded. He pushed her to the ground, where she scrambled up and ran with her tail between her legs.

Too shaky to stand, Jenny sat on the ground. She trembled, watching her attacker run as fast as she can towards town. Roadhog put his chain on his belt, before going over to the girl.

“You tryin’ to get yourself killed,” he growled out, moving to help her stand. Once she was on her feet, he let her go. That lasted for about five seconds, before she caught sight of the bloody mess nearby and, promptly, passed the fuck out.

Roadhog quickly caught her, grumbling a bit as he picked her up.

“.... Come on,” he finally said, walking back to the house. Junkrat followed, mumbling something about how he wishes he could’ve actually blown something up. The younger junker stared at the unconcious girl, then at his companion.

“When’d you get such a bleeding heart, Hog?” Roadhog was silent for the longest time. He let Junkrat open the door to the house, and he went to put the girl back on the couch. Roadhog stared for a moment, before letting out a tired sigh. He covered her up with the old blanket, his hand lingering on her shoulder for a moment.

“Brings back some memories, is all,” he said quietly, going over to his bed. Junkrat grunted, showing he heard, before dropping onto his mattress. Roadhog took his mask off again, looking over to make sure she was actually asleep this time. Her quiet breathing was overshadowed by Junkrat’s snoring and whining. Roadhog sighed, getting in the bed and laying down.

Hopefully everything will settle down, tomorrow morning.

No one woke up until after noon.

Roadhog was first up, as usual, but the stress from last night made him sleep in way longer than usual. He was making whatever tea they have left, when Jenny shot up from the couch. She patted herself down, as if expecting herself to be missing items- or limbs.

Roadhog walked over to her, setting down a glass of water and some toast and eggs on the table in front of her. She blinked tiredly, looking at the food, then at him. The events of last night finally came to her, as her eyes widened when she recognized his mask.

“... Thanks,” she said quietly, taking a sip of the water. At least it had ice this time. She slowly ate the toast, stomach growling after she took the first bite. He grunted in reply, nodding to her. He sat across from her with his tea and egg sandwich. He pulled off the mask, setting it down to eat.

Jenny looked at him, taking in his scarred face and thin beard. He had an underbite, and it sometimes looked like his bottom canines poked through his lips, giving the illusion to tusks. Fitting, for him.

“... Thank you for… saving me, last night,” Jenny finally said, after getting half way through the small meal. Roadhog nodded. Junkrat yawned loudly, getting up and putting his prosthetics on. He fully stood, heading to the bathroom.

“You make me breakfast, Hog?” “Yeah”. Junkrat grumbled out an acknowledgment, going to the toilet. Jenny stared after the half-naked Junkrat, cringing as he just begins to scratch his ass on the way to the bathroom. She turned back to Roadhog.

“How do you put up with him,” she snickered. He smiled slightly, a small huff-laugh escaping him. He shrugged slightly, taking another bite of his food.

“... I need to get home, soon”. Roadhog nodded, wiping the crumbs off of his hands and taking a swig of his tea. Once he swallowed it, he spoke.

“I’ll take you, soon. Need to get food, anyway,” he said. Jenny finished her own food, finishing off her water as well. She fiddled with the blanket across her lap.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said. “You’re probably busy- I don’t wanna send you to the other side of town for no reason”. He shook his head.

“Don’t wanna send you alone, with her still around”. Jenny kept quiet about that.

“... At least, once I get home, I can get my weapon and work on my damn knives,” she mumbled. Roadhog fixes his mask back into place when his tea was gone, getting up to take the dishes to their dirty sink.

“You can bring your equipment here. Use my scrap to make your knives, instead of going to the junkyard like you’d have to”. Jenny hesitated, brow furrowing and lips pressing together.

“What’s the catch,” she asked, narrowing her eyes. He shook his head, watching Junkrat going to get his food and sit at a stool.

“No catch. Just expect Rat to get nosy and try to butt in”. “Mate, I just got up, I don’t care what you’re talkin’ about right now,” Junkrat snapped, making Jenny flinch a bit. Roadhog chucked a small bolt at the other man, making Junkrat yell in pain as it nailed him in the temple.

“Shut up. She’s coming back to fix her weapons. She’ll use my workbench,” Roadhog said. “Don’t want you bothering her when she does, got it?” Junkrat glanced over, tired grin on his face. He held up two fingers.

“Scout’s honor, Hoggy”. Roadhog mumbled out a “shut up”, going over to his bed to grab his things. Jenny stood as well, assuming he was getting ready to take her home.

“I’ll be back, Rat. Don’t blow yourself up until then”. “Can’t promise nothin’,” Junkrat laughed, downing his tea as Roadhog led her out of the door.

Jenny took the lead, letting Roadhog fall into step behind her. He towered over her, his intimidating height and stance making everyone back off and let her through.

“... You really won’t mind if I come back?” “No,” Roadhog answered. “Just don’t get Rat worked up”. She has no idea what that means, but she’ll try her best. She wonders if that means just… talking about weapons, in general.

“... Why’d you even help me, last night? You could’ve just let me go”. Roadhog was silent. Slowly, he patted her head- almost affectionately.

“You remind me of… certain things, from a long time ago, kid. Might just be getting old, but,” he hesitated, removing his hand. “... Might just be getting old”. Jenny remembers some stories of the older junkers- the ones who were around before the Ominium exploded. She can get an idea of what he’s talking about. She nodded, letting the subject drop.

She stared up at the door to Junkertown, watching it slowly open. She hesitated, before looking back up at him.

“Mind if I go ahead and come back with you, after you’re done?” He snorted a little, patting her back.

“No- although, Rat might”. “He can get over it”. Roadhog let out an actual laugh, albeit a short one, making her grin.

“Yeah. He can”.