#also yeah that’s the official reason they gave him a mask. I’m not joking. fucking amazing

[magic-can]

“We CGI’d a mask onto Brahms’ face because test audiences said he was too hot” buddy knowing how slasher fans tend to be I’m pretty sure a lot of people think the mask makes him even hotter

[lunnanunna]

Thank You

SF9 Extra Member AU

Summary: [Requested] Miyoung sees how the past events with Jin affected Chani.

Warnings: swearing

Taglist: @hyunmijung @galacticstxrdust @gay-jesus-official @precious-seungwooya @helladead-hellaradical @boss-baby-jongho @kimonmars @chagi-nana @wooya1224 @atinygracice @xiaojunssmile

A/N: This was somewhat requested. I’ll slowly write up the rest of the boys that are left on how they are dealing or have reacted to Miyoung’s whole Jin situation. Hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! Please let me know what you think.

Miyoung quietly read over the cue cards for this today’s music show episode. She was asked to be a special MC and join Chanhee, while the other two MCs were taking the week off.

She had been an MC once before and was super nervous, but this time the nerves weren’t as bad seeing as she was going to be with Chanhee.

“Noona, I’m going to go get some water and snacks. You want some?” Chanhee asked from his spot next to Miyoung on the couch of the green room.

Miyoung smiled and nodded. “I’d love some. Thanks, Channie,” Miyoung said and watched as the maknae smiled and walked out of the room.

Once gone, Miyoung went back to looking over her lines. They were simple enough, that she should be able to memorize most of them and not have to look down as much. She continued to read through them, mumbling the words.

“Miyoung-ah?”

The visual startled at the sudden call of her name and looked up to see a man poking his head in through the door. She paused as she tried to recognize the man through the hat and face mask.

The man seemed to notice her confusion and chuckled as he pulled his mask down. He smiled as Miyoung’s eyes widened. “Remember me now?”

“Yah, Hajun-ah!” Miyoung grinned wide, getting up from her seat. She made her way over to the man as he fully stepped into the room. Once she stood in front of him, she playfully slapped his arm.

“Yah! What was that for?” Hajun laughed, rubbing the offended area.

“I haven't heard from you in years, then you just decide to pop up out of nowhere as a-” she paused, grabbing his ID card to read his position, “as a stage light crew? Really?” Miyoung looked at him, raising an impressed brow.

Hajun chuckled, grabbing his card and tucking it in the breast pocket of his shirt. “Yeah, really. Not a bad job, actually,” he said, smugly folding his arms over his chest.

Miyoung shook her head, chuckling. She remembered a scrawny looking boy in high school with a pompous personality swearing he’d make it into show business. He obviously made it, but definitely not how he had originally planned.

“No, stop. Stop laughing,” he scowled, wagging his finger at her. Miyoung only giggled more. “Anyways, look at you! You’re an idol. Who would have thought that shy little Miyoung would be an idol,” Hajun smiled, shaking his head.

“I have no idea what came over me the day I went to audition either, but it happened and I’m glad,” Miyoung said, smiling to herself. Then she remembered something. “How’d you know I was here?”

Hajun sheepishly laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I only just got the job and I had hoped to run into you at some point, though I figured it would have been during a comeback for your group. But then I saw that you were MCing today, so I looked up what room you’d be in,” he answered.

Miyoung quirked a brow. “Sounds kinda stalker-ish to me,” she said, folding her arms as she chuckled.

“Please don’t say that. I’ll look like a perv,” Hajun said, rolling his eyes, hands on his hips.

“Well are you?” Miyoung and Hajun both looked at each other at the sound of a new voice. Chanhee stood by the door, a seemingly peeved look on his face, and a plate of cookies.

“Chanhee?” Miyoung asked, smiling nervously. He looked kind of mad, and she had no idea why. “Uh, this is an old friend of mine, Kim Hajun,” Miyoung quickly introduced. She watched as Chanhee turned to Hajun. And glared.

“Uh, hi,” Hajun said, taking a quick bow, “Nice to meet you.”

“That’s Chanhee. He’s one of my groupmates,” Miyoung said, motioning towards the maknae. Hajun nodded as he looked at the taller.

The younger stayed silent. He looked Hajun up and down, almost in a challenging way, and Miyoung hoped to God, that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

When Chanhee’s eyes landed on the lanyard that was hanging out of Hajun’s breast pocket, the latter quickly pulled out his ID to show him.

“I’m part of the staff here, I swear. Just new,” Hajun said quickly.

“Anyone can be a staff and still be sketchy as fuck,” Chanhee growled.

Miyoungs jaw dropped. (What the hell was that supposed to mean?)

“Uh, yeah. I get you. But seriously, man, I was just here to see an old friend. And look, I’m leaving now,” Hajun said, adding the last part quickly when he saw that the younger still seemed unconvinced.

“Chanhee!” Miyoung exclaimed, finally coming out of her stupor. “The hell is wrong with you? Why are you glaring? Not only is he a friend of mine, he’s also older than you. Where’s the respect?” she said, trying to control her anger. She didn’t like how Chanhee was acting.

“No, it’s okay, Young-ah. I gotta get going anyway. Maybe I’ll see you later?” Hajun asked as he backed his way out the door.

“You won’t,” Chanhee said as he pushed Hajun out the door and closed it.

“What the fuck, Chanhee?!” Miyoung seethed. She opened and closed her fists to try and calm herself, but she knew that she was close to exploding.

The maknae gave her a blank look as he handed her two cookies, then sat on the couch. Miyoung glared at him, dropping the cookies on the table and stomping over to him.

“Answer me, God damnit,” Miyoung demanded, standing in front of the dancer.

He shrugged and Miyoung’s blood boiled. “He was sketchy.”

“He- What? What do you mean?” Miyoung asked, her anger was rising.

Chanhee shrugged again, looking blankly at a spot on the floor. “I don’t like the fact that he just showed up out of nowhere. You said so yourself, it sounded stalker-ish.”

Miyoung’s eye twitched. “It was a joke. He was a friend. I know him,” she said.

“Yeah, you knew Jin too,” Chanhee rolled his eyes.

Miyoung froze. (That’s what this was all about?) She looked at the younger who seemed to be avoiding her eyes. “Channie?” the visual called as she squatted in front of him. He side eyed her then looked away.

“Anyone can work as staff and actually be bad. And not everyone is who they say they are. Jin wasn’t and maybe Hajun isn’t either,” Chanhee mumbled, head motioning to where Hajun had been standing minutes before.

He was looking out for her. Chanhee wasn’t taking any chances, and tried to eliminate what he perceived to be a possible threat. Miyoung didn’t know if she should have felt touched or guilty.

“Channie? Look at me, please,” Miyoung begged quietly. He chewed on his lip, but slowly turned to look at her. “Thank you, for looking out for me. It means a lot coming from you,” she placed a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. “But you know that we can’t live being suspicious of everyone and everything, right? We’d never enjoy life that way.”

Chanhee looked away then back at her. “But what if something like last time happens again?”

Miyoung watched as he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. She winced as she reached to tug the lip from his teeth. “Please don’t hurt yourself,” she whispered. Looking down, she continued, “I understand where you’re coming from. But what happened last time was not because I didn’t see any warning signs, it was because I refused to tell anyone about them.

“I know now that I should always come to you guys if I feel like I’m in danger, and I promise I will, but I can’t lock myself up and never see anyone again because there’s a chance of someone of them hurting me.”

“I know,” Chanhee whispered, “I don’t want you to feel like that. I just don’t want you to get hurt again. I know that I pick on you a lot, but I really was scared and hurt that you had gone through all of that by yourself. Sometimes I feel like maybe if I were nicer to you, you would have come talk to me-” he trailed off.

“Oh, sweetie no. Don’t say that.” Miyoung got up and wrapped her arms around Chanhee. He buried his face into her shoulder. “I promise you, the reason I didn’t say anything to anyone was because I was scared. Not because I didn’t trust anyone. And yeah you tease me, but I know that you actually care for me, just like I care for you,” she said, stroking his hair. He wasn’t crying, but his fists were wound tightly in her shirt.

“I’m sorry, I was rude to your friend,” Chanhee mumbled.

“It’s okay. I’ll text him later and explain,” she said, pulling back. He nodded then leaned back on the couch. Miyoung sat next to him, head resting on his shoulder.

“I promise to keep a watchful eye, but from a distance. I know that you say that not all people are bad, but I don’t know, I just don’t think I can be that trusting yet,” the younger said, playing with his sleeves.

“I understand,” Miyoung said, placing her hand over his, “Thank you for wanting to protect me. Hopefully there will never be a day where you’ll actually have to, but I feel more relaxed knowing that you’ll be there.”

Chanhee nodded, then leaned over and placed a kiss on her head. Miyoung giggled, looking up at the maknae.

“You’re getting soft on me Kang Chanhee,” she said, poking his side. He grumbled, but smiled softly.

Miyoung’s Masterlist

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 6

Ok I’m really curious to see what you guys think of this one. Let me or Pami know what potential theories you may have because thats always very interesting 👀. 

Also I dunno if I’ve mentioned this before but constructive criticism is always welcomed and very much appreciated! I’m always looking to improve as a writer, and I’ve found that critiques 

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

Dream stepped into the small building that had been dedicated to peace negotiations. It wasn’t much other than a single room with a long table, but the tension inside could have been cut with a knife. On one side of the table sat George, Sapnap, Punz, and Eret. All four were tense, ready to attack at any moment. It was completely different from the joking, playful atmosphere that has surrounded them that morning. Sapnap glared at the masked man as he entered the building, likely considering just how many different ways he could strangle him. Dream was once more thankful for the mask covering his face, as he turned away with a grimace. 

On the other side sat Tubbo and Fundy. The L’Manberg side of the table was filled with a very different atmosphere. They both wore expressions of very hesitant hope. Tubbo turned to Wilbur as he walked in, his eyes asking a silent question. 

The older man gave a small nod, his face revealing nothing. A of disbelief spread over Tubbo’s face. “What's the catch?” he asked hesitantly, staring at the masked man for an answer. 

A very small smile formed on Dreams face, although it was hidden to the younger boy. He shrugged, saying, “None. The Dream SMP surrenders to L’manberg.” 

The skeptic look on Tubbo’s face only increases. 

A low growl emerged from Sapnap’s throat. “Dream, you can’t do this,” he hissed sharply.

Dream ignored him, pulling the document from his bag. He rolled it out on the table. On the top of the document, in big, bold letters, read “Treaty of Surrender.” Under that, the words “By signing this document, the Dream SMP hereby recognizes L’manberg as its own, independent nation.” Below, in smaller print, was a list of different agreements. It wasn’t complex, mostly just outlining the basics of any peace treaty. But everyone knew what it meant. 

A quill sat in a small inkwell on the table. With a steady hand, Dream picked it up, and signed the paper. He had nearly started to sign his actual name, but had managed to catch himself last minute. Setting the quill down, he glanced at the men sitting at either side of him. “I require that at least one of my own men signs this treaty as a witness,” he declared, staring them each in the eye individually. 

The resulting silence was palpable. Not a single person stood, offering to sign the document. ‘They’re all too prideful. They don’t want to admit defeat,’ Dream thought as he looked at them. 

2 to 3 minutes passed in silence. Then, something surprising happened. Eret stood, staring at the paper with a furrowed brow. “I’m still becoming king, right?” he asked.

Dream nodded. He had figured that Eret had been promised the position by the other Dream, so he had made sure to include it. “Of course.” 

“Then I will sign.” In a swift motion, Eret signed the document and tossed the quill onto the table in front of Wilbur. 

Dream sent his friend a relieved smile. “Thank you Eret. Now then. Wilbur, it is your turn to sign.” 

Wilbur quickly read over the terms of surrender and signed the document, Tommy signing as well as witness. 

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as the quill scratched against the paper. It felt like the entire world had let out a huge sigh of relief the moment Tommy picked the quill back up. Dream smiled and rolled up the document. “Well then. The treaty shall be kept in here for safe keeping. You guys are good to go if you want,” he said, trying his best to sound official and important sounding.

Apparently it worked. Tubbo stared at where the document had been sitting moments before. In a soft tone, he whispered, “we did it…” 

Wilbur placed a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, and very quietly replied “Yeah. We did it”

~~~

Dream watched as Tommy, Wilbur, Fundy, and Tubbo all left the small building. He had been hoping to leave as well, but one look at the people around him told him that wasn’t going to be an option. He gulped nervously. 

The moment that the L’manberg soldiers were out of view, Sapnap was on his feat, sword in hand. He stormed over to Dream, pinning him to the wall, blade across his neck. His face was twisted with anger and rage. “You son of a bitch what the hell was that about?! What the fuck were you thinking?!?!” 

“I have my reasons Sapnap,” Dream choked out. It was the second time in 24 hours that someone had held a sword to his neck, and it wasn’t a trend that he particularly enjoyed. Hopefully, it was a trend that wasn’t going to continue. 

“Bullshit! You swore to me that you were going to win this war! Not that you were going to fucking surrender!” He cried, pressing the blade into Dreams skin. Small beads of blood started to form where metal met skin. “We had them! We fucking had them and you went and threw it away like a coward!” 

“I didn’t realize that letting people live was such a crime Sapnap!” Dream shouted back. “I didn’t fucking realize that it was illegal to feel pity or sympathy!” 

His friend stared at him, before putting even more pressure against the blade. Dream was starting to panic slightly “I didn’t follow you to be lectured on granting mercy, Dream. I followed you because you swore you would win.” he took a step back, allowing Dream to fall to the ground at his feet.

Dream coughed several times, trying to recover from his windpipe being crushed. He pounded a fist to his chest, trying to clear his airway. When he looked up at Sapnap, he was greeted only with a kick to the chest, sending him sprawling across the floor. The mask, so carefully fixed by someone he had thought of as a friend, had flown across the room. Dream didn’t care. He wanted that mask gone. 

He lay there on the ground for a minute, trying to desperately catch his breath. “Wh-why…?” he asked, the words coming out as desperate gasps for air. 

“Heh. Never thought I would see the day when the great Dream lay at my feet, begging for mercy. Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Sapnap said with a chuckle. He turned towards the door. “I’m leaving. If you have any need of me again, you know where to find me. Just next time, I expect some actual fucking results.” 

George walked around the long table as Sapnap left, looking at his friend in concern. Eret and Punz had already left, leaving just the two of them. “I really hope you have a plan,” he said. His eyes were full of pity as he walked away, leaving the gasping man alone on the floor. 

~~~

“Dude, are you serious?” It was late at night, around midnight. Dream and Tommy were back at the training grounds, each trying to learn how to fight. Of course, they didn’t exactly have anyone to teach them, so they were both just practicing basic moves that Dream had seen George use. The results were… varied, to say the least.

As they spared, Dream had told Tommy what had happened earlier that day after the conference. “I mean, I knew Sapnap was a little bitch, but I didn’t realize he was that much of a dick here”

Dream shrugged. “He used to joke that he was like a mercenary, and only in it for the money. Guess that it’s less of a joke here.”

“I feel like anything that was jokingly on stream held some sliver of truth here. Including everyone’s personalities,” Tommy chuckled as he blocked a strike “that’s probably why no one trusts me here. I kinda acted like a complete idiot on stream”

“You still do.”

“Oh haha. At least I wasn’t a fucking psychopath”

Dream shook his head “I still don’t get why I was apparently so scary…”

“You literally sent us a voice clip saying that you would burn L’manberg to the ground if we didn’t surrender”

Dream let out a sigh “yeah… Yeah I suppose I did” 

Sensing the sudden mood shift, Tommy quickly tried his best to change the subject. “So… What about George? Is he any different from back home?” 

“George is…” Dream’s voice trailed off as he thought, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into words. 

“George is no different from how he’s always been,” said the man in question as he stepped out of the shadows. For the third time that day, Dream found himself with the blade of a netherite sword against his throat. “Now then. Would either of you care to explain who the hell you are and what you’re doing here?” 

Tommy dropped his wooden training sword and raised his hands into the air, trying to look as harmless as possible. “George, how much… How much did you hear?” He asked, keeping his voice calm, despite the fact that he wanted to scream.

George shifted the blade so that it was now pointed at the teenagers throat, shutting him up rather quickly. “I heard enough to know that neither of you are who you say you are. What the fuck is going on?” 

Dream took a small step towards his friend, his hands up as well “Look, we’re still Tommy and Dream, I promise.” He knew that he couldn’t try to lie his way out of this one. To be honest, their best option was probably to tell the truth and hope George could keep his mouth shut. 

“Exactly!” Tommy chimed in, trying to be helpful. Dream glared at him. 

“Please. I’m not an idiot. I knew something was wrong from the moment you shot Tommy during the duel. The real Dream never would have taken off his mask, much less show any sort of regret,” George said, stepping forward so that his blade rested against Dream’s neck, in the exact same spot Sapnap had cut earlier.

“I’m still Dream, I swear! Just because I’m not fucking insane doesn’t mean I’m a different person!”

“Maybe, but the real Dream would know how to fight. He wouldn’t be flailing around with a sword like a chicken with its head cut off.”

Tommy snorted “He’s got you there. You do look really stupid.”

Dream made a choking sound in surprise “I- You look just as dumb!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not supposed to be the world's greatest swordsman” 

“As a child, your opinion is automatically invalid”

“As a child, I automatically don’t give a shit.”

George’s eyes darted between the two, as if he were watching an intense tennis match. “Enough!” he finally yelled, shutting them both up pretty quickly. “All I want are some fucking answers!” He pressed his sword more against Dreams throat, opening the thin cut and allowing a small trickle of blood to form.

Dream gulped and looked at Tommy. Normally he would have taken control of the situation himself, but he didn’t exactly trust himself to not anger his friend. 

Tommy nodded, and started to explain their story. He told George how the two of them had suddenly been transported from their home to the SMP world. He explained how neither of them knew what was going on, or why they couldn’t leave. He even explained how back home, everyone had been friends. The war had been nothing more than a game, a show that they had put on for the sake of entertainment. As he spoke about his own home, he could feel tears start to pool up inside his eyes. He hastily tried to wipe them away, but it didn’t matter. George had already seen. 

The man lowered his sword, not once taking his eyes off either of them. “So you’re telling me that you come from a world where all of this,” he gestured around him towards the world as he spoke, “is completely fake.”

“Yeah, that sums it up pretty well,” Tommy replied, rubbing the red scar on his neck. It was a nervous habit that he had quickly picked up from Wilbur, despite the fact that he hadn’t even been there when he had received the scar. 

Dream stumbled back, using his jacket sleeve to try and stop the stream of blood from his neck. There was already a dark stain on the cuff from earlier that day. God, he was going to get a lasting scar if this continued. “We just want to get home,” He told George, “I promise, we don’t mean anyone any harm.”

George pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You both do realize how unbelievable this all sounds, right?”

“Yeah, we know” 

“I really don’t want to believe you… But this explains so much. Is that why you trashed your base?”

“I told you I was feeling stressed. I just may have failed to mention what exactly I was stressed about”

“I knew you weren’t feeling well… I just didn’t realize it was because of something like this. That's why neither of you know how to fight anymore, isn’t it?”

Tommy shrugged “Sword fighting isn’t exactly a common sport in our world. I’ve never even touched a real sword before this week.” 

“Oh my god… Does anyone else know?” George asked.

Dream looked over at Tommy, silently asking a question. Tommy shook his head “The only person who knows something is wrong is Tubbo, and he thinks I just have amnesia from a weird enchantment or something.” 

“Are you serious? I thought we agreed not to tell anyone!”

“This was before I even knew you were here! How else was I supposed to get any information? Besides, Tubbo’s my bro. I trust him not to tell anyone.” 

“What about Wilbur…? Does he know?” George asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Nope. I mean, he clearly knows that something is up, but other than that he has no idea.”

“That doesn’t seem right… Wilbur should know that his second in command is missing.”

Tommy cried out in outrage, “What do you mean? I’m right here!” 

“He means the other you. You know, the one that actually lived here?” Dream said calmly. 

“Exactly. That other Tommy is currently missing. Who knows where he could be. Wilbur deserves to know.” 

Tommy let out a groan of annoyance “ughhhh fine! I’ll tell him tomorrow. 10 bucks he isn’t going to believe me.”

“No way am I losing 10 bucks like that,” Dream replied. 

“Killjoy,” The teenager muttered. 

George was once more watching them both with confusion. He looked down at his feet, trying to weigh his options. That’s when he noticed the discarded training swords. An idea sprang into his head. “What if I tried to teach you both sword fighting? I’m not the best, but the other Dream taught me, and he was the best of the best.” 

Dream grimaced. Just another reminder that he was just an imposter. Still, he forced himself to nod. “That would be good. Thanks.”

~~~

“Please, I just want to go home…” Tommy said into the phone. It had taken a bit of work to convince Wilbur and Tubbo that he wasn’t insane and definitely knew what a phone was, but they had eventually caved. 

Wilbur hadn’t wanted to question his younger friend after who knows what had happened to him. It would have just stressed him out and made everyone more upset. So he had allowed Tommy to borrow his phone to call Dream. Now, him and Tubbo were sat at the table in Tommy’s backyard, hearing only snippets of the one-sided conversation.

“What do you mean? Why not?! I won’t do anything I promise!” A couple seconds of silence. Tommy’s face went slack in shock. “You can’t be serious. No, no no no you’re joking, aren’t you. Y-you wouldn’t dare.” More silence. “Fine! I won’t, I swear! Just please don’t do it.” 

Wilbur watched the conversation with concern. He could hear Tommy’s raised voice from where he was sitting, and what he was hearing was definitely good cause for concern. He glanced at Tubbo, who looked just as worried. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. Bye.” A long, drawn out tone sounded from the speaker. Tommy sighed and walked back over to Wilbur and Tubbo, trying his best to hide his tears. It didn’t work.

Tubbo was instantly on alert, trying to check on his friend. “Hey man, are you ok?” He made sure not to get too close after getting hit in the jaw. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m good. Just… just a bit in shock still. A lot has happened in the past week…”

“You want to talk about it?” Wilbur asked gently.

Tommy shook his head violently “No. No I really don’t. Don’t worry guys, I’ll be fine. Thanks”

~~~

Master Post

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[headcans-oneshots-and-stuff]

Masquerade (Moonflower pt.2)

Part 1 - Moonflower Part 3 - Magical/Misery/Massacre

Warning: Harassing, Reader kinda suggest that she wants to have a meaningless One-Night-Stand, I kinda somewhat specified the height of the reader (by saying that you have to put your neck back to look at people over 6ft) so if your a tall boy/girl/dragon/human please just pretend you’re not thank you very much, swearing, again there are Yandere vibes (this time even more), also murder, but only in the Yandere Addition... Word count: 4k (sis snapped again) Summary: When the Riddler keeps ghosting around in your mind you know that you have to do something about it, that you couldn’t keep on harboring feelings for him, so you put on your mask and make your way to find distraction, but sometimes the things we see when we wear masks are not the things we expect... 

Two months. It took not even two months for the mayor to forget the disaster of a Gala that he had organized last, even though it was a rather interesting experience for you, but for a completely different reason, and decide that it would be a great fucking idea to throw a masquerade ball. A MASQUERADE BALL?!? Who, in their right mind, thinks that it's a good idea to throw a ball where the people come in masks and costume-like dresses in a city WHERE MASKED LUNATICS ARE FIGHTING AGAINST OTHER MASKED (slightly less) LUNATICS??? Well, seemingly, it was the man who should, in theory, know best and somehow always proved you that he did, in fact, know just about nothing. So yes, after a long discussion about whether it was a good idea or not and Bruce somehow managing to convince Jason and Dick to come along (the party was only for grown-ups - much to Damian's, who hasn't left your side for longer than he had to ever since the last Gala, dismay), you were sitting in a car driven by one of Wayne Inc's chauffeurs in a deep violet dress that clung to your curves like a cosset, before blossoming into a wide skirt, beside Dick in a black and Jason in a very dark red suit. The fact that they both had worn these suits countless times before already while you had to buy this dress especially for this event pissed you off to no end. And not only that, no, because it was custom for males to wear simpler masks, Jason had a phantom of the opera-like mask, while Dick had decided to try and be funny by wearing a cheap Zorro-mask he had bought in a dollar store. You, on the other hand, looked down at the gold mask that Alfred had had custom made for you. It was incredibly beautiful. It was extremely filigree and looked like a complex mandala of golden wire which formed a fascinating swan over where your right eye would be.

"Are you okay?" Jason's voice from your right ripped you out of your thoughts and you looked up at him beside you. He eyed you somewhat concerned and you just slightly smiled and shrugged. "Yeah, everything fine, I was just lost in thoughts." He nodded unconvinced but turned forward again, not even budging when he felt you carefully leaning against his shoulder like you have done countless times since the two of you officially became siblings. You also felt Dick's eyes on you, but you just held your hand out to him and let him take it. Jason shifted a bit under you and you could've sworn that you heard him sniff at your hair, making you narrow your eyes in confusion. As if to confirm your assumption, he nudged you a bit and asked: "Are you using a new shampoo? Or is that a new perfume?" You had to physically restrain yourself from tensing up, your mind filling with the memories of the little gift the Riddler had left you and about how often you had packed it out again - thinking about what you should do - before putting it back, ever since the night you had found it. "It's a new shampoo, Cass gave it to me: Peonies and gold, not sure how gold is supposed to smell though," you told him truthfully, meeting your brothers' expectation and allowing them to get back to what they were doing, Dick playing on his Phone and Jason reading a pocket novel you had given him earlier this week. But you couldn't get back on your train of thoughts. Like so often these past eight weeks. You had no idea why, but ever since that kiss, the rouge just wouldn't leave your mind for longer than an hour at the time. You just couldn't understand how it had come to this. You didn't know him, he was basically a villain, he had kidnapped you and the kiss was only a distraction... And still... The kiss filled your dreams ever since, the scene just playing on repeat in your head. Maybe it would've been different without his little gift, without you knowing that he was thinking about you too. God, what were you supposed to do? You knew that what you were feeling had to be some weird sort of Stockholm syndrome or something like this, something that would go away after a while, because if not...what would you do if not? You couldn't realistically think that he and you would ever have anything close to a future together. You just had to forget him, so ever since you had seen the invitation for the Gala, you had made a plan. This party would be full of eligible bachelors who would have no idea who you were (or at least not at first), some of them had to be good enough for you to try to forget about your unlucky crush. "We're here," filled the voice of the chauffeur the car and you sat up straight, looking out of the darkened window to see the red carpet and the paparazzi that were taking pictures of the masked celebrities walking towards the city hall. "Here we go," you tightly smiled and put the mask on, securing it with the black ribbon behind your head. The man who had driven the car got out and opened the door, making space for Dick to leave the car and walk forward, greeting the Cameras with his trademark smile. You had agreed earlier that you would leave a minute between every one of you exiting in a cheap attempt to make it less obvious who you were. It was clear that everyone would recognize Jason and Dick by their height and the suits, but you - due to a good mix of make-up, hair styling and the mask - still had hope left that you would get through the evening unrecognized. When Dick had disappeared inside you nodded at Jason and took your chauffeur's hand as he helped you step outside, trying to smoothen the skirt of your dress in the process. Immediately flashes off light filled your eyes and you tried your best not to blink and keep the smile on your face. For a few seconds, you struck a few poses, presenting the beauty that was the dress, before you followed your brother, giving the space up for Jason to do the same.

The inside of the Hall was filled to the brim with people in all kinds of dresses and suits with just about every kind of mask on a face somewhere. Groups of people were scattered around the room and you could see that Dick had already made his way over to a small group of girls who wore matching black dresses with white carnival-like masks. You rolled your eyes, but smiled and turned away to decide what to do next. That was the problem with Galas like these. Even if you knew people, you couldn't be sure where they are or if they were even here, so it was like a college party only days after you moved to a new town. Well, you got through your college parties by drinking so why not give that attempt a shot now too, right? So you sashayed over to the bar that had been constructed on the side opposite of the entrance and gestured the bartender over to you. He nodded and quickly made his way over, taking your order before turning around and getting started on your Old fashioned. "Well, hello beautiful," a dark, hoarse voice rang through your ears from beside you and you turned into the direction it came from, your eyes landing on a man that looked like he was as sure of himself as it could get. He was wearing a metallic-silver suit with a black shirt below it and, even though you yourself wouldn't necessarily go for it if you had to choose, you had to admit that it looked good on him. On his face was a mock-batman-mask and he had a five o'clock shadow that looked just groomed enough to be handsome. He will do, you thought and forced yourself to smile at his cheesy 'not-even' pick-up line. "You don't look too bad yourself," you shrugged and bowed your head slightly in thanks at the bartender who handed you your drink. "Ah, a girl of good taste," he smirked, trying to be smug and funny by not clarifying if he meant the drink or your comment. The physical restrain you had to put yourself through to not roll your eyes almost surprised you and you took a big sip of the drink, hoping it would loosen you up enough to make you look over the comments. You welcomed the burn in your throat but inwardly damned yourself for having a high alcohol tolerance that would make it impossible for you to get drunk from under at least thee drinks. "So," you sighed and leaned against the bar, "What's up with the mask?" "Don't tell anyone, but I'm really Batman and I'm just here undercover," the man said just slightly too serious to make you believed he was joking, bringing whatever attraction you had towards him down. "Does that line ever work?" "You'd be surprised, but you look like the kinda girl who doesn't need a pick-up line for some fun," he winked and came uncomfortably close to you. Welp, so much for that guy... "You know what-" you downed the drink, put it back onto the bar and turned to go, "-I'm not really in the mood for some fun, so if you'll excuse me." That was when you felt a hands on the side of your torso, just inches below your chest, and a sense of Terror filled you. Terror not for you, but for the man that had been foolish enough to touch you without permission in a room with any of your siblings. Your eyes quickly flew through the room, searching for your brothers to find out how long the douchebag had before his arms would be ripped out (figuratively) and you spotted Dick on the dance floor with a girl in a sparkly pink dress, but Jason - even though he should be visible alone by the sheer size of him- wasn't anywhere to be found. "Listen, buddy, you really don't wanna-" "Here you are!" a voice interrupted your warning and both you and the man that was behind you looked to your right to see a tall man, towering over you even more than Jason usually did,  in a sharp, expensive-looking, green suit. He stood out like a sunflower in a field of tulips, not only because of the outfit but because he was the only one in the room who wasn't wearing a mask, and something about him made your breath hitch slightly. He seemed eerily familiar, but you couldn't place his face with anyone you knew. It was like time was frozen while your eyes wandered his body up until you reached his face, having to put your head back a bit, and you took in his neatly dishevelled brown hair that looked like it was always this way, but others would try for hours to replicate it before they ended looking into his blue ones. Suddenly time started again and the sounds of the room, that had been drowned out by your thoughts, came crushing back and you had to slightly shake your head to keep your composure. "I've been searching for you all over, you've promised me a dance remember?" the man smiled and you quickly realized that he just might be your (and with that unknowingly to both of them also your harasser's) saviour. "Oh, right, sorry, I was otherwise occupied, but I have the next dance reserved for you," you played along and removed the Hands on your waist, they had been wandering downwards when the man had realized he was in a tricky situation, stepping forward to take the hand the maskless man was holding out towards you. "You can't just-" the man behind you, that seemed to have snapped out of the trance he had been in, started to shout, but was almost immediately interrupted when your saviour put the hand that wasn't (very gently as you noted) holding yours onto his shoulder. You could see the fabric of the silver suit wrinkle notably under his seemingly forceful grip and the look on the face of the man in said suit twisted in pain confirmed your suspicion that the hold he had on him had to be way harder than necessary, not that you complained. "I think the lady just said that she had the next dance reserved for me, right?" his voice was polite, but even the most social clueless person would be aware of the threatening undertone. Your harasser could only nod before his shoulder was released and he hurried away, trying to hide that he couldn't move his arm properly anymore. When he was completely out of sight your saviour let go of your hand and eyed you as if he was making sure you weren't hurt, before smiling at you with something like fondness. "Thank you for that," you smiled back and smoothed your dress down before holding your hand out again, ignoring that he had let it go only seconds earlier. He looked down at your hand with confusion and you couldn't help but chuckle a bit, not noticing how his eyes seemed to widen and his cheeks seemed to redden just the slightest. "I told you I have the next dance reserved for you and after you saved me that's the least I could do to thank you. Only if you want of course." It was like that flipped a switch inside him because before you could blink you were standing on the dancefloor with the arm that wasn't holding his hand around his neck and his on your waist, high enough to not be sexual, but low enough to not be completely innocent. "So-" the two of you swayed to the rhythm of the classic song playing in the background and you couldn't explain why you felt the urge rise to lean against his chest "-what's up with the lack of the mask?" He slightly tilted his head to the right as if thinking about what to answer, while simultaneously spinning the two of you around. "Maybe this is my mask," he simply stated and you knew it was just supposed to be a humorous comment, but you couldn't shake the feeling like it was more cryptic than you thought, "And I got invited pretty short term and didn't have time to get one." That was more like it.   You giggled and couldn't help but play with the hair on the back of his neck, glad that he didn't seem to react to it. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm glad you're not wearing one because if you had been, I'd be deprived of that face," you smirked slightly and decided to take the initiative. You had no idea what it was about that man, but the two of you dancing so close to each other, his eyes gazing into yours and his hand on your waist, made your heart beat out of your chest, it was like the kiss you had with the Riddler all over again and for the first time in weeks the thought of that kiss disappeared again seconds after it came into your mind and you couldn't help but think that maybe this man was just what you were searching for. For a few seconds, the two of you just looked at each other, your eyes having the conversation that your heart wanted and it was like a bigger power was in control of your bodies when both of you started to lean in for what was supposed to be a kiss if it hadn't been for someone tapping at your shoulder. It was like a spell dispersed and you couldn't help but flinch away, even if all you wanted was to continue what you were doing, not noticing the slightly angered tint that made its way onto your dance partners' face. "Uhm, are you Y/N?" the girl, which you recognized as Dick's companion from earlier, asked you shyly, clearly aware that she had interrupted a situation. "Yeah," you sighed, thinking that this was Dick's attempt at being a protective older brother without actually being at blame. "Your brothers said that they have something to talk to you about, they are waiting outside." You turned to look at the exit to the garden, flashes of memories of being drugged in front of your eyes, before turning to your partner and smiling apologetically, "I'm sorry, I just have to quickly go, but I'll be right back, don't move okay?" He returned the smile, but it didn't seem as genuine as it was earlier and nodded.

When you stepped into the cold night air you couldn't help but sigh at your lack of luck. You looked around and saw your brothers at the outer wall that parted the garden from the street seemingly talking in hushed voices. Jason was the first who noticed you and soon the two of them started walking towards you, the three of you meeting in the middle. "So? What's going on?" you asked worried, recognizing the look in their eyes, the same look they always had when there was an unexpected mission. "Bruce just called, there's a Joker attack a few blogs from here and he needs all the help he can get." "Okay, I'll excuse you if anyone asks where you are and recognizes me," you just shrugged, not sure why they had to meet you outside for that. It was surely not the first time they randomly disappeared during an event and you had to make up excuses. You had expected something more 'serious'. "I'm afraid that this won't be how it'll go tonight-" Jason sighed and petted your head slightly, "-Bruce clearly stated, that he wants you to go home, he already sent the driver. He's still a bit shaken up by what happened last time." "What?" you exclaimed questioningly, "But that-" "No discussion," Dick stopped you and gave you a small peck on your forehead before he and Jason hurried to the gate that would bring them to the ally where they had hidden their costumes beforehand. For a while, you just kept standing there, the cold air crashing down onto your skin and making goosebumps appear. You tried to think of all the ways that you could just get back to what you were doing before, how you could get back to the man that had your heart beat quicker just minutes after having met him, but all your thoughts just went right back to the fact that you couldn't. That you had to leave now. Your thought process was disrupted when you felt something smooth cover your shoulders and arms. A quick look down your body showed you that a familiar green suit jacket had been laid onto you. Swiftly you turned around, hoping your dance partner would stand behind you but there was no sign of him anywhere near. Confusion filled you and you hurried over to the doors leading back inside, thinking that you may see him going back in, but he was nowhere to be seen.   Before you could start to search for him further your chauffeur from earlier caught your attention, waiting for you at the entrance. There was a war being fought inside you, your heart wanting to go back into the crowd and find him, your brain knowing how hopeless the situation was.

One of the side-effects of being raised by Bruce Wayne was that your brain won the fights it had against your heart. That was why, a few minutes later, you were sitting in the car on your way back to Wayne Manor, the jacket still around your shoulders despite the confused look your chauffer had given you. It was basically pooling around you, multiple sizes bigger than you and you couldn't help but relish in the sense of security it gave. You leaned against the backdoor, your forehead against the cool darkened window when you felt something solid pushing against you. A bit perplex you straightened up again and started to tap around until your right hand landed on something that was slightly budging out the right Jacket pocket. Curiously you put your hand into the opening and pulled out its contents. You stared down at the little green, velvet ring box that was laying in your opened hand besides a black business card. Even though you couldn't rip your gaze away from the box, your left hand grabbed for the card and turned it around before you ripped your eyes to it for the fraction of a second before your heart figuratively stopped. The only thing that was printed onto it was the image of a green Questionmark, leaving the origins of the card without any ambiguities. But that means... This Jacket, the man you had danced with, the man you had almost kissed... Well, seemingly almost kissed again... It was him all along, he had saved you and had let you flirt with him right in front of your brothers, without knowing how risky it had been. Your mind was starting to get fogged with all kinds of thoughts, but they all scattered again when you looked back to the box. Your movements were slow as you laid the card down on the seat beside you and opened the velvet cap. Every blood cell in your body stopped moving when you saw the vast Amethyst that was embedded into a ring that looked tiny in comparison with the stone and for the second time that evening it was like you weren't in control of your body as you took the ring out of the case and brought it up into the light to look it over. It had to be extremely expensive, something that even Bruce would think about twice before buying, and it wasn't just that, no, your eyes landed on an engraving on the inside of the ring. For my one and only Moonflower -Ed.

[Yandere Addition]

Trevor Beck's night was far from great. At first, the hot chick he had tried to chat up on the party his dad had dragged him along to had rejected his advances even though she had clearly been interested before and then this creepy dude had grabbed him so hard that he had surely dislocated his shoulder. With pain running through his arm, he decided that this stupid Gala wasn't worth it and called a cab to bring him home. He didn't realize that what happened before was not even close to the worse that would be happening to him this evening, because when he came home, he wasn't alone in his apartment. When he came into his bedroom, there were bags filled with stolen money and jewellery lying on the floor. And when he wanted to call the police upon seeing the letter that was lying on his dresser, a letter written in his handwriting that confessed to his family having had money problems and that he couldn't live without this lifestyle and decided to take matters into his own hand, only to regret what the letter said he'd done, a single shot through the side of his head kept him from following up on that action. Edward was careful as he planted the gun that Trevor had kept in his night shelf for protection into his palm to make sure his fingerprints were on it, before making sure no traces would suggest that he had help with ending his life. He knew that besides the lack of evidence they'd have for it to be murder, the GCPD would be happy enough to have found the one (allegedly) responsible for one of the biggest and unexplained jewellery heists and even if it was suspicious that Trevor had no prior criminal record beside harassment, they wouldn't investigate further. Ed tried to tell himself that he only did this to avoid gaining the attention for the heist, but deep inside he knew that he had many options on how to do that that wouldn't include killing. Deep inside he knew that he had done that because Trevor had dared to touch what was supposed to be his... Had touched his moonflower...

A/N: This was one of - if not the- most requested things I’ve ever had on my blog! Thank you all so so so much! This also inspired me to try my hand at Aesthetics and I’d be happy if you guys would let me know if you like it! And....maybe, if people like it, there’s still some inspiration left for a final part three....who knows? Also, here are the non-anons who requested a second part: @sirkekselord​ @redhildatodd​ @nate-sakura​ And for all of you who are wondering, the Yandere addition at the end is not really relevant to the story and most likely won’t be picked up again, but I just had that thought in my head while writing and thought people might like it.

[duhragonball]

Cult Classic

I had a really exhausting week, so I’m going to try to chill out by writing this thing about cults that’s been bouncing around in my head since... oh, like January 6th?   For some reason?     But it’s also about my insanely long OC fanfic slash vanity project slash concept album.  Join me, won’t you?

Okay, so back in... geez 2018?   Has it been that long?   Around October 2018 I started working out the details for the big climax of the “1000 years ago” section of my fanfic.  From the start I had this idea that the Legendary Super Saiyan would be locked into a death struggle with pretty much the entire Saiyan population, led by a Saiyan King who just can’t handle being upstaged.   But I had to figure out a lot of details to make that actually work.   What I finally ended up with was the Jindan Cult. 

Why a cult?  Because I wanted my King character to be the main villain, but also be physically weaker, but also he needed to be powerful enough to challenge the heroine. I came up with all these different ways to beef up his power level without making him a Super Saiyan himself, but ultimately I wanted him to have an army of Siayans at his back.   That led me to consider some sort of magic elixir that would make them all stronger, but especially the king, since he’s ultimately in this for himself.  At first, I considered having him mind-control all of his goons, but I spent the mind control nickel in earlier arcs, and I’ll have to use it again later, because Towa and Demigra use it.   Then I thought of drug addiction, which is sort of like mind control but not literal brainwashing or anything like that.  And that led me to the cult concept.  

One major inspiration for me was the real-life cult called “NXIVM”, which made the news back in 2018 when their leaders started getting arrested, including “Smallville” star Allison Mack.   Every time I read about it, it felt like something from a movie, but it was real.   I guess the celebrity angle made it more bizarre to me, because it’s sort of like “Hey, this isn’t just some group of randos; someone you’ve heard of is in this thing.”   Not that I ever paid much attention to “Smallville”, but you get the idea.  She didn’t just join NXIVM, she eventually became one of the top recruiters.   Some of the character arcs in my fic were my own attempt to understand how a person goes from Point A to Point B. 

The big plot hole, though, in my mind, was that I came up with this whole master plan for the bad guys, but it involved sending wave after wave of Saiyan cultists to die in pointless, unwinnable battles against Luffa.    I couldn’t have them win much, because if they beat her, they’d just kill her, and the story would be over.    It struck me as fishy that these Saiyans would sign up for a war where the casualty rate is 100%, but I tried to lampshade it as best I could.   “Yeah, all those other chumps couldn’t beat Luffa, but I’ll pull it off because I’m special!”   It still seemed a bit unlikely.  

But then 2020 happened, and I guess the main thing I learned from that year was that people will accept almost anything in order to believe a comfortable lie.  The joke I’ve seen on the internet is that we need to retire the expression “avoid it like the plague”, because it turns out a lot of people don’t actually avoid plagues very well at all.   The horrifying thing about COVID-19 is how easily people will accept the climbing death tolls.   “Oh, well this person was already in bad health, so they would have died eventually anyway.”   I don’t want to get too political here, but I’m pretty sure a lot of the anti-mask, coronavirus-is-a-hoax crowd are the same people who made up tall tales about “death panels” in Obamacare.    “They’re gonna euthanize your grandma!” they would say, but now they say your grandma is acceptable losses if it means reopening bars and restaurants.

Actually, I do mean to get political, because holy fuck, Qanon stormed the Capitol Building.    Look, if you don’t believe Joe Biden won the election, I don’t know what to tell you, except please get far away from me, right now.  If you’re not familiar with Qanon, a few years ago some guy on an image board posted a bunch of cryptic messages and claimed to be an important government figure who would know about important things.    People started “deciphering” his “clues” and when he stopped posting new ones they started inventing their own “clues” and interpreting them any way that suited them.    This led to an overarching narrative that Donald Trump was actually part of this massive sting operation to arrest hundreds, maybe thousands of left-wing politicians, celebrities, and whoever else.    Any day now, he was supposed to have Hilary Clinton arrested, and also JFK Junior would somehow show up and help him, even though he’s been dead for 22 years.  Every day, these Qanon guys would add on more bizarre lore to their “theories”, and every day none of their predictions would come true.  Then Trump lost the election, which put them in a bind, because their whole mythology is based on the idea of him saving the world as POTUS, and now he wasn’t even going to be POTUS for much longer.  

I’m pretty sure this had a lot to do with the lies about election fraud.    Trump himself refused to accept defeat, and his supporters didn’t want to accept it either, so they all told each other that it wasn’t real, and they believed each other so much that they dug in their heels.   But then they’d take this stuff to court and the judge would be like “Uh, what evidence do you have of mass voter fraud?” and they would just be like “lol nvm!”  I mean, if there was proof for any of this, why would they not want a judge to see it?   But for Qanon, it was more than just being sore losers.    They needed all their whackamaroo predictions to come true, and Trump losing re-election would upset the applecart.  

So then they started telling themselves that they could win this thing through the boring certification process.   I think it was like, December 14 when all the states had to certify their results.   So they held out hope that nothing was over until then.    Then they pinned their hopes on the Electoral College, and that there would be enough faithless electors to hand Trump the victory, in spite of the voters.   I found this one amusing, since I used to see tumblr suggesting the same thing back in 2016, when they were still trying to come up with ways for Bernie Sanders to win.  

Then they decided Mike Pence could fix everything, because on Jan 6, Congress would officially count the Electoral Votes and formally declare the winner, and Mike Pence would step in and overrule the whole thing, because the Vice-President oversees that process.    Except he just oversees it, he can’t legally change the outcome, especially on a whim.    And then the riot at the Capitol happened, and I’m pretty sure all these Qanon types thought it would mark the beginning of a nationwide uprising, with all seventy-odd million Trump voters going apeshit, but it... didn’t work out that way.  

Then they convinced themselves that everything was building to January 20, because the innauguration was actually a clever trap, and once Joe Biden took the oath of office, he could then be arrested for treason, so you see, they had to make it look like Trump lost the election, because it was the only way to fool Joe Biden into incriminating himself... or... something.   But Jan 20 came and went, so the latest fallback position I heard was that there’s a double-secret REAL inauguration day, and it’s in March, and the January 20 one isn’t legitimate, even though Trump was inaugurated on January 20, 2016, but whatever.    That, or the guy we see in the White House now is actually Trump disguised as Joe Biden, or a Joe Biden android or something.   

I think I sort of understood that Qanon is a cult, but I didn’t really put the pieces together until the events of January unfolded.    Pre-November, it just seemed like a conspiracy theory, without any real timetables or prophecies, like Flat Earth.    But once the end of the Trump Administration was in sight, it really started to look like all the doomsday cults I’ve heard about over the years.  The predicted events wind up failing to come true, and they invent new predictions to explain away the old ones.   It’s not about the veracity of the claims as much as the claims themselves.    People want to believe there’s this whole elaborate explanation for everything.    They wanted to believe that Trump was this hypercompetent superheroic messiah, because the alternative is to face the uncertain reality: that he had no idea what he was doing, and real people were going to suffer for it.  

I think I sort of worked that idea into my fictional cult, but I backed into it.   NXIVM was a sex cult, not a doomsday cult, or an elaborate conspiracy theory, so I was mostly fixated on all the depraved things the cult could do to its members.   But they all share the same lure: a belief system that promises to make everything fit. I’m not sure what the hook was for NXIVM, but Allison Mack didn’t go in thinking about how much fun sex trafficking would be.   That came later, after she was convinced that NXIVM had all the answers, and one of those answers involved sex crimes, apparently.   In the same vein, Qanon attempted to explain mass arrests and executions by claiming that Hilary Clinton eats babies or something.   “Well, I don’t want babies to get eaten, so I guess breaking into the Capitol building seems like a reasonable course of action.”  

Weighed against real life, a bunch of Saiyans accepting a 100% casualty rate doesn’t seem so outrageous.   It also helps that sometimes the leaders of these groups can buy into their own hype, and think they’re infallible when they’re really not.    This week, I started reading the Darth Plagueis novel again, and I’ve seen the Sith from Star Wars referred to as a cult, but I never gave it a lot of thought until I noticed that Plagueis buys into the whole Dark Side of the Force thing a little too hard.   At times, he’ll wax philosophical about how the Jedi are the real bad guys when you think about it, and he’s not just saying that to be manipulative.   He honestly believes that the Sith can save the galaxy from decline, which is stupid and hypocritical, because they’re the ones causing all the decline.    I always got the impression that Darth Sidious understood that it was all about accumulating power as an end unto itself, and any high-minded talk of necessary evil was just to keep the rubes in line.    Rise of Skywalker plays into that idea nicely.   He somehow survived Episode VI, but he let the Empire collapse, because if he can’t rule it, he doesn’t want it to exist at all.   But he’s still playing himself, because he thinks he can win by following the same failed ideology that got all the previous Sith Lords killed.   

That’s pretty much all I have to say about it right now.    I need to move on to other topics, because Towa’s not doing a cult thing, so my fic is moving in a different direction.   But I feel better for getting this out of my head.

[tartagilicious]

Maybe a roommate au with fluff and the sentence starter "I wish I could relates but only a dumbass like you could do this" with Eugene?? Hopefully that doesn't sound confusing I'm having trouble wording it right--

hhhHHH

“Eugene..”

You trailed off with obvious distaste as your best friend recalled the events he’d been through. He looked sheepish enough, avoiding your gaze as you just stared, yet you still couldn’t help but laugh.

“I wish I could relate but only a dumbass like you could do this,”

He groaned as he slumped onto the table, his words muffled by his sweatshirt as he said, “You don’t have to tell me that, ___. I just want to know how to fix it.”

Your eyes went down to the coffee sitting in front of you, and you sighed. Eugene had been your roommate since the first year of college, and it was safe to say that you knew him better than anyone by now. That’s why you immediately knew that he needed your help when he offered to take you to your favourite cafe. 

It wasn’t like he didn’t pay for things, but he wasn’t someone who was keen on splurging like you were. 

“It’s up to her.” You said, taking a sip of your coffee as he raised his head to look at you. 

You rose a brow at his surprised reaction. “What? You can’t go over to a girl’s house and throw up on her! No matter how much soju you had, you idiot.”

His head dropped again, and you sighed, twirling your straw with your tongue as you said, “What did you think I was going to tell you? I’m not magic, you know.”

“You might as well be.” He mumbled, resting his chin on his arms to look straight at you with a pout. “You’re too good at this relationship stuff, while I just threw up on someone.”

You forced a smile and took another sip of your drink, putting it down again as you avoided his eyes. 

It was true, you were definitely better when it came to relationships between the two of you. But, that was only because you’d spent so much time thinking about one specific person that you would be disappointed if you weren’t an expert on them after the fact. 

Yet, no matter how many hints you gave to your oblivious and relationship-troubled best friend, he never got it. It hurt so much to go through his mishaps with other girls when the one girl that loved him more than anyone had been sitting in front of him for years, laughing with him and giving him someone to lean with through every stage life threw at you. 

Eugene just didn’t seem to get it; he never had.

“Well, what do I do? ___, I want to try again.”

“So, you like her, hm?” You teased him lightly, your lips curving up into a sly smile. “Has someone got a crush?”

Eugene sat back with a blush dusting his cheeks that was a clear as day yes. You kept your smile expertly as you rested your chin on your plan and leaned forward. 

“If you liked her you should’ve recognised your limit, Eugene.” You said slowly, not being able to help a laugh as his expression melted into an embarrassed smile.

“___! You’re supposed to be helping me, not making fun of me, you hoe.”

Your laughs both just grew louder as you sat there teasing each other back and forth, before you finally calmed down minutes later and gave him the serious advice he was looking for. 

“Seriously though, Eugene. Just text her and apologise. If she’s right for you, things will go from there. Still, don’t count on anything, okay?”

You watched his eyes light up with a smile, as if your warning simply didn’t exist. “Are you sure? Is that it?”

You shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, for now.”

“Man,” He leaned forward on his elbows. “Girls are just so hard to figure out.”

You snorted at the ironic words. 

“Yeah, girls are some confusing creatures, alright.”

His face shifted again as he whined, “Don’t say it like that!”

The rest of your night at the cafe was filled with more light-hearted things on your part, and despite the official reason for meaning, you both went back to your shared apartment feeling good. 

But, then he pulled you into the living room about an hour later to help him construct a text to the girl he’d been so caught up on. 

The mood was ruined easily, like the drop of a pin . 

So, there you sat, your face free of makeup and lightly coated with an acne mask peering over his shoulder as he typed. You were tired and began to rest your chin on his shoulder eventually, sighing at the time it took for the boy to do something so simple. 

“If it takes this long to say sorry to a girl about something like this,” You said, picking up your head and sitting back. “Do you think she’s really right for you?”

He was silent for a few moments before turning his head back to look at you. 

“I did it for you.”

You went silent. 

Eugene was right, he had done something very similar to you when you’d first met at a frat party. 

You’d gotten separated with the friends you’d come with and had quite literally stumbled across him. He’d spilled his drink on you in the clumsiest and cutest way, and you couldn’t help but find yourself curious about him even back then. 

“I hope you didn’t freak out this much about apologising to me.” You joked softly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “I definitely wasn’t worth it.”

He raised a brow as he gestured to the apartment around you and to you yourself. “You’re my best friend, ___. You were totally worth it, whether you like it or not.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but the mood was ruined again in no time flat as he said, “Which is why I have to seize this chance to remake history!” 

He grinned as he briefly flashed the phone screen to you before pressing send. But as he switched the phone off and turned back to you, your couldn’t help the confused curve of your brows. 

“You’re not even going to make me proofread it?”

“Nope,” Eugene said this confidently, sitting back next to you and slinging an arm around your shoulder. “I’m sure it’ll work.”

You smiled as you leaned into him. “Whatever you say. Wanna watch Netflix now that your pity party is over?”

He huffed. “First of all, fuck you. Second of all, yes.”

Everything you did with him was always easy; after all, there was no reason for it to be anything else. Even just the way you didn’t mind your legs tangling when you sat on the couch, the way you’d casually share drinks, or how you could tell each other anything — you lived your lives together without hardships, but the things that really jeopardised it put the most weight on you alone. 

You were in love with him, but had never said a thing. You thought that you would’ve learned your lesson by then, knowing that everything you never had the guts to do had always come back to bite you in the end. But you were foolish in thinking that this time would be any different. 

“___!’

Eugene came sliding into the kitchen on his socks one morning, capturing your attention with a dumb grin as you stood in front of the stove. Your eyes flitted to the phone in his hand and back up to him as you returned, 

“..Eugene?”

“Guess what?!”

He seemed awfully happy for the early time, not catching onto the fact that you were barely even awake yet as he continued to wave his phone around. Then, deciding that he wouldn’t even wait for your reply, he walked up to you and thrust the screen in your face. 

‘don’t worry about it, really! honestly, something like that also happened to me a while back, so I understand. could we maybe meet again sometime to talk more about it?’

Your heart sank to your stomach like a stone in a pitiful koi pond as you read the texts. The woman he’d gone out with had forgiven him alright, and it seemed like your cycle of heartbreak was about to restart yet again.

But, as always, a habitual smile raised to your lips as you forced yourself to push out, “That’s great, Eugene! I told you she would come around, didn’t I?”

He grinned giddily, bringing a hint of a genuine smile to your face as he threw his arms around you in a bear-sized hug of thanks. You buried your face in his shoulder as you held him back, listening to him silently as he began murmuring about his plans with the other woman to you. 

It took all of your resolve not to break down into tears right then and there, but you stood firmly for the sake of him. You stood firmly because that was all you could do. 

Days went by after that, and you saw significantly less of your roommate with each. Knowing he was off with the woman when he wasn’t in class, you tried your best not to think about it. One night, Eugene came home only slightly later than usual, though, a change to the previous days where he’d arrive home hours late.

“___?”

His voice sounded tired as he walked inside, the sounds of him kicking off his shoes filling the small entryway. You looked up from where you sat on the couch, previously immersed in playing a game on your phone before you noticed his sullen expression. 

“Eugene?” Your brows knit delicately. “Are you okay?”

Wordlessly, he just came and sat next to you on the couch, leaning to the side into the cushion as he pulled down his cap to cover his face. You wanted to say something to him, but all you could do was stare. You hadn’t the slightest idea of what could possibly be bothering him, and even if he was your best friend, you had no idea where to start. 

“…Eugene?”

You reached out hesitantly, taking the bill of his hat and lifting it up to get a view of what he was trying to hide. Fat tears ran down his cheeks, and though soundless, his eyes held enough pain for you to feel it too. 

Wiping them away with the pad of your thumb, you whispered, “What happened?”

“I should’ve listened to you.’ he mumbled, bringing his sleeve up to cover his nose as he looked away. “I shouldn’t have counted on anything.”

“God, what did she do?”

“..She only wanted to use me to get her ex back. ___-, that’s why she was so forgiving, she, she just needed me for that. I’m so stupid-”

“No,” You cut him off. “You’re not stupid, she’s just a bitch! I don’t know how she couldn’t see anything in you, Eugene. You’d be, like, the perfect boyfriend. He sighed, his cheeks flushing. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”

You shook your head, whispering, “I’m not, Eugene.”

A few beats of silence passed before he turned his head away, forcing you to let go of his cap as he took it off and put it to the side. 

“Don’t say that,” he mumbled. “You’re just going to go and get my hopes up so I can go and mess everything up all over again.”

“It’s not a lie, Eugene. Take it from someone who knows you, and also lives with you. You’d be a great boyfriend, and it means nothing that one girl-”

“More than one girl, ___. Over and over again, something like this happens.” He interrupted, his eyes flickering back over to yours as he joked deprecatingly. “You’re the only one I’ve managed to charm enough to stay by my side.”

You took his chin in your hands without thinking and pulled him back to face you before staring him right in the eyes. Making sure he was paying attention, you tried your best to convey what you needed him to know. 

“You haven’t charmed me at all, Eugene. I’m here because, well—”

You paused before you let the crucial details slip, but that answer obviously wasn’t enough for Eugene. His hands shot up to hold yours in place on top of his before you thought about moving away, turning the tables and forcing you to look right at him instead.

“Because why, ___?”

You bit your lip, nerves swelling in your throat as you laughed pitifully. 

“Because, Eugene.” You whispered. “I love you.”

His hands loosened on top of yours, and for a moment, you thought he was going to let go. But, instead, he threw his arms around you in a hug, effectively pushing you down onto the sofa behind you as your hands dropped from his face. 

“Eug-!”

The words left your mouth in a hurry, but before you knew it, his lips were on yours. A effective silencer, you thought. 

Your eyes were wide with surprise, but after feeling the odd sincerity in his actions, you weaved your arms around him and kissed him back. It was an action filled with heat; an entire person’s worth of undone fire that was begging to be unravelled. And in your capable hands, the coil was released with ease. 

Fingers began to tangle in each other’s hair as the kiss only grew to be more demanding, small gasps slipping out from you before you thought to silence them. Eugene didn’t seem to mind them, though, even seeming to welcome them as his tongue slipping past your lips only warranted more.

Breathing hard, you gripped a fistful of his hair as your tongues swirled together in a desperate tell that something still wasn’t right. 

It physically pained you to move away, but knowing it was at least better than the defining silence of your naivety, you stopped him. You wanted an explanation before anything else, because as far as you were concerned, he had just kissed you as an in the moment decision. 

“Eugene,” You whispered, your breaths still laboured. “Why..?”

He leaned his forehead against yours as he rasped, “You’re such an idiot, ___. Are you asking me why?”

You nodded hesitantly, not daring to break your eye contact.

“I love you, and I’ve been waiting so long for you and your slow brain to realise that I—”

You cut him off from the last discernible sentence he would say that night, smiling as you finally kissed him wholly. 

— 

read more of my works~ ♡

[lovlieziam]

@treacle-black asked for prompt #66 on the drabbles, so here ya go :) I hope you enjoy!!

66.  It’s not a donkey. It’s a mule.

Out of all the dumb shit Louis has convinced Zayn to do in the 20 years he’s known him, this probably takes the cake. And maybe Zayn was slightly overreacting—because Louis was a bad influence, honestly, and they’ve done a lot of stupid things—but going to the zoo at 7:30 in the fucking morning was insane.

“Quit being dramatic, Zayn. It’s the fucking zoo. Not like we’re breaking any laws, here.” Zayn rolled his eyes in response to Louis’ harsh words. It wasn’t the zoo that was bothering him, it was the early hour and Louis’ sour attitude. He didn’t want to be here, thanks.

“Oh, now I’m the dramatic one? Literally all you’ve done since you picked me up is complain. If you don’t wanna be here, then why are we, exactly?”

Louis cut a glare in Zayn’s direction. “Fuck you, you know exactly why I’m here.”

And okay, Zayn did know, but, “It’s not my fault you waited until the last minute to do your paper. You’re the one that wanted to do it on fucking donkeys.” And really, Louis could have picked anything—their professor just wanted to gauge how much they knew about research papers. The topics to choose from were endless, but Louis chose donkeys. He was pretty sure he knew why, but he’d never actually asked.

“But Zayn, think of it! Donkeys are the perfect topic. Do you know how many times I’ll be able to use the word ass in my paper? It’s genius.”

Zayn rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might fall out. That was the exact reason he thought Louis had chosen them. He loved his friend dearly, but sometimes his definition of ‘genius’ was a little skewed.

“You’re ridiculous, and I still don’t understand why we even had to come here. Couldn’t you have just googled facts like the rest of us? There’s no reason for us to be stuck staring at a donkey at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Actually, it’s not a donkey.” Both Zayn and Louis swung around at the voice, turning to face a very attractive worker. Zayn was left speechless when he took in the man’s bright eyes and barrage of muscle. “It’s a mule,” the boy continued, and Zayn fell a little in love with the gentle way he spoke and the endearing curve of his lips.

“What?” Zayn’s attention was drawn away from the boy and to Louis when he spoke. Zayn was just as confused as Louis sounded. In his defense, the boy standing in front of them was so beautiful it was disorienting. Zayn wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to follow a conversation, not if this boy was going to keep smiling like that.

The boy cocked his head, his smile turning a little nervous, and God help him, Zayn was endeared. Why did this boy look like a human puppy? It was hazardous to his health, honestly. Zayn wasn’t sure he’d survive in the aftermath of this conversation.

“The, um, the animal behind you? That y-you called a donkey?” He looked at Zayn, making direct eye contact for the first time, and Zayn was pretty sure he was melting. Someone better call in the cleaning crew because soon Zayn would be just a puddle of mush under those warm brown eyes. “It’s not, um. It’s not actually a donkey. It’s a mule.” The boy brought a hand up to the back of his neck, a blush working its way up his cheeks as he adverted his eyes.

“They’re very similar because, well, mules are the offspring of donkeys, but, um. They also are the offspring of horses, too.” The boy seemed to hesitate for a moment before continuing. “Male donkeys and female horses, to be more specific.” He chanced a glance back up at Zayn and gave a small, soft smile and, fuck, Zayn now knew he wasn’t going to survive this conversation. “I just, um, didn’t want you to have false information? I, uh, I heard you say something about an essay? And I didn’t want you to, um, be misinformed.” He finished with an embarrassed shrug, his hand finally dropping back to his sides as his face took on an even deeper flush.

It was official. Zayn was already 100% in love with this boy.

“Cheers, mate,” Louis said, and it was then that Zayn remembered what was going on. He was so caught up in the cute zookeeper that he forgot that Louis was even there. “You probably just saved my ass.”

The boy swung his own startled gaze over to Louis, like he himself had forgotten he was there. “Um, yeah, yeah. ‘Course. ‘S my job.”

Louis shot the boy a grin before turning to Zayn, and Zayn tried really hard to mask whatever expression he had there—Zayn knew he was more than a little endeared with this boy, and if anyone was going to be able to tell, it was Louis. He knew Zayn better than practically anyone, and the last thing he needed was a day filled with fucking ass jokes about the zoo employee. Louis thought he was clever, and he was relentless about it.

Zayn realized too late that he didn’t compose his face fast enough because he watched as a wicked smile stole over Louis’ lips. He was so, so fucked.

“Say, what’s your name, mate?” Louis asked as he turned to face the boy again.

“Erm, I’m Liam,” the boy mumbled. His face was still covered in that lovely shade of red, and Zayn was pretty sure his own eyes had formed into the shape of hearts. Liam. He really liked that name.

This was going to be a disaster.

“Liam, hmm?” Zayn had a sudden fantasy of kicking Louis. He had to physically restrain himself from actually doing so. “How much do you know about donkeys, Liam?” And Louis’ voice was absolutely diabolical, and Zayn knew he was going to regret whatever was about to come out of Louis’ mouth.

Liam stuttered a little in front of them, his body obviously tense with the urge to flee. Zayn didn’t blame him; he was fighting the same urge. Louis’ tone had suggested nothing good. “Um, a little, I guess? Not too much, I—”

“Because, you see, dear Liam, my friend Zayn here,” Louis gestured to Zayn, his smirk making dread sink into Zayn’s stomach. He was definitely going to regret the next words out of Louis’ mouth. “Just absolutely loves asses, and I’m sure he’d love it if you could tell him all about the one you have here.”

Zayn choked as Louis’ words hit him, his eyes widening and his face flaming with embarrassment. Zayn wanted to die. Honestly, fuck Louis Tomlinson. He was the worst fucking friend on the plant and Zayn was going to kill him.

“Louis,” Zayn bit out, and all Louis did was laugh like a fucking maniac. Seriously, he was dead. Zayn didn’t care if he spent the rest of his life in prison, Louis was a dead man. Zayn chanced a glance at Liam and felt his expression soften a bit at the timid smile on the boy’s face. Liam’s face was even redder than before—which was a feat, since it was pretty flushed before—but he also had a shy smile on his face that he was directing at Zayn. There was a barely concealed gleam in his eyes, one that was eerily similar to the one Louis had in his. It made Zayn’s breath come in short puffs thinking about the possibilities behind those playful eyes.

“I’m glad you asked,” Liam began. His shy smile curved up into a smirk as he met Louis’ gaze head on. “A little fun fact about donkeys is that they really enjoy rolling around with other donkeys, which I totally get.” He looked over to Zayn, before, “It’s one of my favorite things to do, too, though I prefer somewhere a little more comfortable than the dirt.” He shot Zayn a wink and Zayn couldn’t fucking breath. Liam, the seemingly shy zookeeper, had just made a pass at him. Liam had just suggested he liked rolling around in bed. Then he’d winked at Zayn. Zayn was pretty sure his knees were about to give out.

Louis let out a delighted laugh next to him, and Zayn was once again drug back from his Liam consumed thoughts.

“Aww, don’t like getting all dirty, Liam?” Zayn felt his breath catch once again because, honestly, couldn’t Louis just shut up. Once again, heat rose in Zayn’s cheeks, but when he looked back to Liam he forgot all about his embarrassment. The gleam in Liam’s eyes from earlier had seemingly doubled. His smirk was wicked enough to rival Louis’ and fuck, Zayn was in over his head. This boy was going to be the death of him and they’d just met. He hadn’t even said anything to the boy. Literally not one word and he was ready to start planning their wedding.

“I never said that,” Liam began. “In fact, I quite enjoy getting dirty.” He arched an eyebrow at Louis before turning his gaze back to Zayn. He let his eyes slowly rake over Zayn’s body and Zayn’s knees almost gave out again. Liam’s gaze left a blistering trail of goosebumps erupting over Zayn, his skin heating up at the pure want obvious in his eyes. “Really, really like getting dirty.”

Fuck, Zayn was going to die. Liam was going to make him self-combust right here in front of the mule exhibit.

Louis let out a little choking laugh next to Zayn, drawing both the other boys’ attention. Liam seemed to come back to himself in that moment, a blush overtaking his cheeks once again as he realized what he just implied.

“Right,” he mumbled. “Well, I’m just going to, um, get back to work.” Liam took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes closed before opening them again. They landed on Zayn, Liam’s smile making him feel a little fuzzy. “Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?” He shot Zayn another wink, and Zayn decided he needed to start going to the gym. Really, his knees should not be that willing to give out every time this boy so much as looked at him.

As he walked away, Zayn felt a lump rise in his throat. He couldn’t just let this boy walk away. He didn’t know if he’d ever see him again after this, and that left him feeling more than a little upset.

“I think I like him, Zayn,” Louis said. “He would probably be perfect for you.”

Yes, Zayn was well aware of that, and there was no fucking way he was letting Liam just walk away from them, not if he could go toe to toe with Louis like that. Plus, he was more than a little turned on right now, and from a conversation. If Liam could do that just by talking, Zayn couldn’t wait to find out what he could do with his hands. Zayn took off after Liam, anticipation running through his veins.

“Where are you going?” Louis shouted behind him.

Zayn turned around, walking backwards for a few steps as he said, “I’m not going to let the love of my life walk away without at least his fucking number, Louis,” before he ran into something warm and solid. Zayn felt himself freeze up, slowly turning around to be faced with none other than Liam himself.

Liam was smiling down at him, his eyes practically disappearing with the force of it. “The love of your life, huh?”

Zayn felt his blush return with a vengeance, all his words leaving him. Why did he have to turn into such a mess around this boy. “U-um, y-yeah. I mean, I was just, um, I was…” He trailed off as Liam’s smile softened, gazing down at Zayn with so much warmth it made Zayn a little drunk. “Can I have your number, Leeyum?”

Liam giggled, he fucking giggled, and Zayn was already writing his vows.

“Yeah,” Liam said. “You definitely can.”

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Ayesha Liveblogs Naruto Shippuden S20 (Pt. 4)

Hashirama’s “:O” face at everything is so endearing

Hagoromo is now really the time for a family story there are three children and a sad old man in need

“It was a few thousand years ago” Zetsu just said it was 1,000 years ago how bad are you guys at telling time 

I wonder how Hashirama feels about Madara being his Soulmate™

“I want make sure [the Tailed Beasts] don’t fight amongst each other, and that people don’t use their powers for evil” better 2 have tried and failed I guess 

“That’s because a toad’s dream is destiny” weird flex but ok

“So then, will everything I do now be meaningless?” “Don’t waste your time worrying” Ffgkjhfgkjh damn I didn’t ask for a lecture on fatalism in my Naruto liveblog

Lmao @ this dude revealing his thievery scheme after talking to Hagoromo for 0.5 seconds what makes him think everyone will be on board with it 

“I only want you to go away as soon as possible” ah looks like Hagoromo made a friend lmao 

“If we make it too sturdy, you’ll break your bones when you try to destroy it” they actually did a really good job of making Hagoromo charming like consider me charmed I wanna hear abt ur ninja way

Hahahah I admire Futami for not bringing up the horns for the entire length of time it took them to build the bridge 

Futami: Hagoromo-sensei gave me a high-five one time and it touched my heart so I formed a cult around him

Wait if Hagoromo only gave 8 disciples chakra are the nine of them together responsible for fathering all the shinobi world what kind of Gengis Khan fuckery

Minus the Hyuga, who, for some reason are moon aliens, I guess

“Throughout this long history men appeared, one after another, with the desire to use the tailed beasts for their own evil purposes. And that turned the tailed beasts against mankind. Anyway, back to my story.” Hahahaha did Hagoromo just go “(A/N: Fuck Obito and Madara lol)”

Unbelievable you’re telling me there was someone who wanted to get with this old man with horns and three eyes who leads a cult and you won’t show me WHO where is the justice 

OH HEY FUTAMI HELPING RAISE THE KIDS I GUESS? WILD

Mmmm I love Ashura already 1000/10 endearing impulsive baby

Some filler storyboard artist who I respect beyond reason: But what if... we added.... a dog

“It might even be bigger than yours” please don’t tell me they fished Zetsu out of the river

"I didn’t realize you thought so deeply about [chakra being used as a weapon]” “Yeah, well” “But then again, what will be, will be” what kind of parenting is this Hagoromo kjhgkjhgkjhg

Indra, 10 years old: I am concerned about the ethical impact of my innovation

Hagoromo: YOLO, son ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

“I’ll be watching you” Is that the voice of......... Pubescent Zetsu 

LMAO IT IS

These kids are really emotionally unprepared for the boar considering they were following boar tracks into the woods 

ARE YOU SHITTING ME THEY EVEN USED THE SAME FILLER DOG NAME LMAO WHO IS WRITING THIS 

I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY KILLED THE DOG I’M SO MAD

Wow @ them having Indra invent chidori instead hkjhgkhg poor Kakashi

Indra awoke his sharingan over losing his dog I cannot believe this how are dogs the central plot device of multiple arcs

“Whatever is in this village belongs to everyone - that’s the law” wow along with fatalism this arc is also teaching us about the practical failings of communism 

“The law is still the law” where’s the post that says Sasuke is ethnically a cop. Because that’s this arc

Not 2 be that gal again but Indra’s voice is also nice on the ears he has inherited his grandmother’s kekkei genkai of having an attractive voice and a terrible moral compass

...............kekkei grandma 

“Looking into his eyes reminds me of my mother’s eyes” I was kind of joking about the kekkei grandma thing but fair

“At that moment I felt that I understood for the first time why heaven had blessed me with two sons” have you ever considered your eldest son is mean in part because you make comments like this 

“What will the two of you do when you are out in the world alone” wow Hagoromo is giving his kids some kind of High-Stakes Bell Test 

Hahaha I like Taizo I hope they don’t do anything to him but they probably will because he’s had so much screen time

HAHAHAHA I LOVE THIS SQUAD it’s the first ninja team and the boy is the healer!!!

Ashura: OH NO I’VE FORGOTTEN HOW TO GENJUTSU

Kanna and Taizo: WE GOT U BUDDY WE GOT BATS

I thought I was going bananas for a sec but the intro did change lol 

Poor Tenzo I think he’s been officially discarded from OPs RIP

Side note: Having a Naruto blog has made me so wary of Kakashi and Sakura standing next to each other I don’t trust the ppl on this website to be normal for a second RIP x2

“They’ll suffer, sure, but everyone dies eventually” okay calm down Taizo

“It doesn’t matter whether it’s possible or not, because I’ve decided to do it” I admire Ashura’s blind optimism lmao

Not to poke too many holes but why would the water in the well not be affected by the Divine Tree

I take my comment about healing back ludicrously all the men get to display chakra natures and the women can only display glowing yin chakra hands booooo

Omg there is a Tenzo after all in an ED at least!! This is the first time I’ve seen all three members of the Naruto’s Dad Association in one place!!! Bless up

A shot of them standing all together!!!! My heart!!!!!!!!

SASUKE AND NARUTO’S GRINS AT EACH OTHER I WEEEP

[Hagoromo as Kakashi voice]: TEAMWORK!!

I was very much expecting Indra to go crazy and kill those two guys but wow that was a scene

“Enough to make you fall in love with him and follow him all the way here” At least Ashura gets like a real wife instead of Hagoromo’s ‘ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ she dead’

Hagoromo: Indra’s a dick because his eyes are red trust me it has nothing to do with my parenting I’m a chakra scientist

“Indra, just what is the meaning of this” it’s a temper tantrum lmao

Was it really necessary to kill both of those guys Indra one best friend death usually suffices for mangekyo my dude

Minato joining Kakashi in the club of Boyz Who Jutsu Was Plagiarized

Hagoromo really has absolutely zero hesitation to attack his son and you wonder why Indra has a complex

“THIS IS THE POWER OF OUR BOOOOOND” he said, as he punched his brother in the face with a thousand wooden hands (mood)

Indra’s Lightning Teleportation Jutsu is really doing The Most the Raikage is not nearly this dramatic about it 

Can you... just.... declare that your soul will be reincarnated? Is that how that works? 

Also. Who slept with Indra?! U made him out to be like. Very Not Okay. But he’s the forefather of the Uchiha?? WHERE ARE THESE CHILDREN COMING FROM TELL ME WHO IS BANGING THIS OUT OF CONTROL FAMILY

Hahahahaha I’M SO READY FOR THIS RIDICULOUS TEAM 7 TRYING TO UNMASK KAKASHI EPISODE BRING IT THE FUCK ON

I knew the Sukea voice would be different but omg I’m still thrown

“S-kay-a” is really not how I thought that would be pronounced wow 

“If I’m able to capture this Kakashi guy without a mask on, it’ll be the biggest scoop since the Leaf was established” a little arrogant Kakashi but okay kjhgkjhgkjhgjhg

This is such an adorable and weird bonding exercise of Kakashi teaching his kids how to break into Konoha’s archives I’M WHEEZING

I would pay money to see Kakashi explain what he was doing to all those dudes in ANBU who probably thought he was intimidating as all fuck catching him a wig with three twelve-year-olds breaking into his own file

“Who cares what I look like anyway!” THIS IS SO DUMB I LOOOOVE IT

“I think that a woman might’ve drowned right over there on the river bank” HINATA!!!!! UR TOO NICE TO BE ENLISTED INTO THIS SCHEMING HAHAHA

Oh I remember seeing reference to this scene booooo do they really have to make it weird all the time

This concept is even MORE ridiculous in the show bc it expands beyond Team 7 to all the other Konoha rookies like Kakashi how much do u enjoy teasing the children that this is how you’re spending your day

HAHAHAH Kakashi is lucky that the person who knows him best has face blindness and can’t call him out for his schemes 

Okay not to betray my own brand but ᵏᵏᵍᵃᶦ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ

They really designed a nicer apartment for Kakashi just so they could animate his silhouette in the shower STUDIO PIERROT PLEASE

Fhkjhkjfhkjhkf that last scene made me so uncomfortable I don’t really like seeing Kakashi’s mouth while he talks it’s weird

You know I spent a lot of this interlude chanting main arc main arc in my head but alas now that we have arrived I’ve remembered that the war arc climax is a mess

“If my chakra runs out, I’m done” seriously Obito.......... how are you here

Can you imagine if Naruto actually died.... what would that even mean for this series I can’t imagine 

“I already marked this space, so I can hide out in my time-space” I want to know how Obito “marks a space” is it like a jutsu or does he just have to nod at it and go “my space now”

 I would also pay money to see what Obito and Sakura talked about when they had to hang out in Kamui for a solid two minutes lmao 

“So you’re friends with sensei huh?” “Yeah it’s complicated but I think we’re cool now” “Yeah, same with us and Sasuke” “Sorry about that” “I don’t forgive you but thanks”

“You alright?” define ‘alright’ but also Obito’s never been alright a day in his life, Sakura 

Uh oh foreshadowing to the heavy gravity space where Obito d*es

Okay maybe this is the part of me that is still clings to their Part I friendship but Sasuke helping Sakura stand really brings out my inner soft bitch

 “It would’ve been helpful if we could’ve received this advice a bit earlier” Tobirama’s bitter about sitting through five episodes of filler

Tobirama: Why haven’t u been helping this whole time

Hagoromo: It all comes down to Madara’s magic pelvis—

“This man lent me his power and that’s why we were able to get here” does Sakura not know Obito’s name either khgkjhgjkgh

How many times will we watch these same two flashbacks of Obito’s life

Looks like Kakashi brought a knife to a taijutsu fight LMAO

God Rin is such a good friend to Obito and he repays her by literally defacing her grave 

“Am I powerless to do anything but sit here and watch” it’s not really your fault you can’t fly Kakashi tho u could try throwing some kunai or smth ur not a one sharingan pony

Ddkjhsdkjhd why does Obito get a line worrying about Naruto’s death but Kakashi doesn’t he’s spent the past two days trying to kill Naruto

I’m still emo abt Kakashi trying to die for Sasuke that’s his soooon

“Rin... this time, let’s spend some alone time together, just you and me” Why phrase it like that, Obito

"Why save someone useless like me” Kakashi get some therapy

“A fool full of only mistakes” it’s hard to disagree with Zetsu when they’re flashing back to every mistake Obito has ever made

Where’s the graphics set where Obito goes ‘admittedly I lost my cool here’ because that’s what that flashback was 

Update: found it

“Don’t cry, Obito, you’ll just get laughed at” this fantasy is an indication that Obito has no real comprehension of how fucked up Kakashi was by Rin’s death

Can you believe that Rin still dies in Obito’s jonin AU like....what. It’s not even like “AU of what I want” it’s like “AU where I learn how to cope with trauma” 

Also was this just an out for not designing an adult Rin bc he’s been thinking about Rin endlessly for like three episodes straight so..... what up with that

It’s still so fucking funny that Iruka’s in Obito’s jonin fantasy like when did they meet did he just absorb secondhand Iruka appreciation from Naruto 

“But, if you screw up, I won’t hesitate to step up as a candidate for Hokage myself” yesssssssss let Kakashi be the playful menace he truly aspires to be

Gjghjkhgjhg Obito’s “euuuuuuuuehhhh” when the paperwork dropped was funny

Sasuke’s face when Sakura punched Naruto was also v funny 

Honestly to be real for a second Obito imagining himself as buddies with Team 7 makes me mad u’ve done nothing but make these kids’ life TERRIBLE until today babysitting license REVOKED!!!!!!

Am I a hypocrite for enjoying AUs ft. Obito? Mayhaps!!!

“You told me that saving you was pretty much the same as saving the whole world, remember?” (Well.)

“I’d say, you did your best” You know that post that said it makes sense that Rin said this bc she’s a Scorpio. I’m still upset about it

You know... Naruto’s “the coolest guy” (“nothing but awesome”) comment about Obito is a direct parallel to “Bravest man I ever knew” in HP and that’s why, if I were to meet either adult man, I would dropkick both of them. In this essay I will—

“It’s kind of annoying seeing [Kakashi] all stiff and useless” u right Obito

Kishimoto pick up the phone I just want to talk about that rabbit bijuu design 

“A Susano’o? But whose?” DAD’S HEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRE

Kakashi with Six Paths Power REALLY feeds into my theory that Kakashi is Hagoromo’s transmigrant 

THAT’S MY TEAM READY TO SAVE THE WORLD TOGETHER!!!!!

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KAKASHI GETS HER VULNERABLE AND THEN THE BOYS ATTACK WHILE KAKASHI GUARDS THEIR BACKS AND SAKURA FORCES HER INTO PLACE THIS IS WHOLEASS TEAMWORK

“I really love you guys” YEAH HE DOES 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Okay arc over haha right guys we’re good now RIGHT GUYS??

In part, Kakashi jumping around to save his students feels very much reminiscent of Part I’s “MY SENSEI SENSES ARE TINGLING” swoop and scoop that he and Gai loved to do

Lmao @ Kaguya spitting Madara out like he’s a bad-tasting vegetable

Coming up with an OP specifically for VOTE2 is so extra but I kind of love it the Diver parallels!!!!

Sasuke is SUCH a liar abt his attitude towards Team 7 - more specifically towards Sakura and Kakashi bc he has already granted that he cares for Naruto

Sasuke: Comrades? I don’t know her

Also Sasuke: Constantly urging Sakura and Kakashi to get to safety and actively intervening when they’re not

“Honestly at this point I don’t think anything could shock me anymore” Sakura really needs a hug and a nap

“I shall be sure to ask Obito tell me that tale in the afterworld” the real question is if Obito will still look 12 when he takes Hagoromo on the harrowing journey that is his life

Kakashi truly has endless love in his stupid ass heart Obito’s like, “Hmmm... whoops sorry 4 committing mass murder” and Kakashi’s like “Hehe, we all mess up sometimes :) See u in heaven”

Madara and Hashirama really did invent being in gay love huh

WOW I WAS NOT EXPECTING TO TEAR UP BUT KJHFKJHFKJH MY BABY BOY SAYING GOODBYE TO HIS DAD HE IS THE WORLD’S BIGGEST SWEETHEART

“You’ve now finally settled things with Madara” Tobirama has been waiting for like a hundred years for his brother to get over his ex

Hagoromo: Naruto’s your new conference room congrats kids 

Mmmmm I don’t like aaaaannnnnny of this

“You’re suggesting that I enjoy a roooOoomance” why say it like that Sasuke

I genuinely think this is the maddest that Kakashi’s ever been at Sasuke that boy is very, very grounded

“I, too, had two children at one time” OMG KAKASHI OFFICIALLY DESIGNATED TEAM 7 DAD BY HAGOROMO (ur miscounting tho Kakashi actually has four (4) children)

“I think I shall let Naruto handle this” said Hagoromo, and everyone who encountered any problem in this series ever

I’m very distracted from Sasuke’s dictatorship speech by the fact he looks so much like an alien. What is UP with his eyes they never look like this???? Why are they so far apart and narrow and angled

“Your blood will be the last that I shed” what r u just gonna keep genjutsuing ppl Sasuke? Could just keep the Tsukuyomi on then, homie

It also plays into the Hagoromo and Kakashi are related (spiritually or literally) that Hagoromo is equally as useless with advice to him lmao

Kakashi: What should I be doing, sir?

Hagoromo: Sometimes I like to pray :) 

Fjkkjgkjhgkjhk Sasuke claiming that Naruto is his only bond never ceases to amaze me like Sakura and Kakashi are RIGHT THERE ghkjhgkjhgkj u have been protecting them this whole time while they shout how much they care abt u. Just admit u have a crush on Naruto and go!!!

“I know your heart well by now. And you mine” Sasuke u unintentionally romantic dumbass

“Finally decided to kill me, huh,” said a thrilled Sasuke, taking a lesson from the Kakashi School of Very Much Needing Ninja Therapy

This entire fight is the Life or Death equivalent of this tweet:

Lmao one of these boys lost a tooth I want to know which of them has a dental implant 

Omg............... Iruka what is going ON.... u are suddenly v pale and also I think ur VA might be different could they not get the same Iruka or has he just forgotten how Iruka sounds

It was real unclear until this fight that Sasuke had any of the same powers as Nagato

“Now I can finally be alone... farewell, my one and only... friend” again... Sasuke... u can be in love with Naruto and still have other friends!!!!!!! Ask Naruto he has tons of friends he’s not in love with*

*Disclaimer: they are all in love with him

The idea that everyone Naruto’s ever cared about is spiritually trying to help him kick Sasuke’s ass is p funny

“Sakura and Kakashi are still there, they’ll figure something out” cute that you have such an assload of faith in your loved ones in ur life-flashing-before-you moment Sasuke but with what jutsu lmao

“I began to see a shadow of my own family in Squad 7″ YEAH HE DID  😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I still can’t believe that Kishimoto really wrote that all it took for Sasuke to return to Konoha was Naruto explaining to him how love and empathy work 

Omg Sasuke laughing...... I missed your laugh you precious boy

“Release the infinite Tsukuyomi once I’m dead by transplanting my left eye into Kakashi or someone else” Fhjfhkfh it detracts a little from the significance of Sasuke offering his eye to Kakashi to add the “someone else” but I guess they gotta make the syllables match up

Why is every Uchiha’s long-term plan just to die before they have to deal with the consequences of their actions

“I’m sorry” “Sorry? For what” “For everything” “You got that right” Sasuke I think u need to treat all of ur teammates to ramen 

“It’s finally back to the way it was” Kakashi loooves his baaabies 

TENZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

Omg they included Guren from the filler arc in this crowd hahahaha

Gaara and Naruto enveloped in that same beam of light like Kakashi and Tenzo in the Tsukuyomi kghjghkgh SP said gentle gay rights

“I’m forbidden to talk about it” Team 7 would RIOT if Sasuke was locked up in a cell like that fuck you

Hahahaha I wish I could see the scene where Kakashi and Iruka decided to ambush Naruto with study materials 

Okay this is definitely a different Iruka ahhhhh weird I don’t like it

Iruka bursting into tears whenever Naruto talks about his progress.... same

I 100% believe that the vast majority of the reason Kakashi became Hokage was to pardon Sasuke but also that prison scene still seems appalling to me STOP MAKING THINGS WORSE THAN THEY WERE SHOWN TO BE

"Maybe next time” is super funny in the context that he does take her on his next mission outside the village and comes back with one (1) whole baby

Sasuke’s introspection usually seems to amount to “Birth is a curse and existence is a prison... oh hey Naruto <3″ 

The moral of the story seems to be that the best way to show someone you love them in ninja language is by telling them you want to keep punching them for the rest of your life

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Thank you, love! Can I please have a double ship? I’m a fat bottomed girl who is a tomboy - I’m not into typical “girly” stuff and I love hanging around with boys discussing politics, sports (I’m a huge sports nerd), listening to metal. I love war movies and am interested in history (WWII especially) though I’m studying Journalism. I also don’t like wearing skirts or dresses or heels. I’m a loyal friend who will always be there to listen and help you. I’m very clumsy and often trip over my feet.

Sssssssshello fellow sports fan (i’m not even joking even though that sounds so nerdy) so what do u think about the kc royals i know they suck ass but like.... im so dedicated to my boys and i’ve seen them kick the yankees ass at yankee stadium (FUCK YOU JOE MAZZELLO)

ships r below the cut sjkdfjkds

For BoRhap, I ship you with Joe Mazzello!

For obvious reasons - I mean, a girl that’s into sports and is extremely loyal? Joey Mazz would bus a nutttt

Anyways, you’d probably meet Joe while doing some work as a sports journalist. Deciding against the box seat that you usually took during a Yankee’s game for focus reasons, you opted to sit down with the public in the stands, and you got seated next to Joe.

Joe was respectable enough for most of the game - once he got a bit loose on the juice, though, he had some mouthy tendencies, and every last word was directed angrily at the officials. 

At one point, he was so angry that you couldn’t hold in your laughter as you kept book, missing a tally for a ball but not caring too much as you stared in amazement at the fiery copper-headed man beside you. His double-black Yankees hat fell off of his head as he stood abruptly, and you took your boot-clad feet off of the seat in front of you as you leaned down to grab it for him. 

“Fucking terrible call! That was in the strike zone, that ump is full of shit,” he muttered as he sat back down in a huff, pausing before getting a curious look on his face and starting to search for his hat.

“Looking for this?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice, and Joe’s attention snapped over to you, recognition immediately flooding his eyes as he smiled gratefully and took the hat.

“Thanks a ton, I just can’t stand those damn umps sometimes.” Looking down at the stat book on your tablet, he raised an eyebrow in inquiry before pulling his hat back on his head. “Keeping book for anything special?”

“I work for the New York Post. Sports columnist,” you explained, locking your screen to save battery after a strike was finally called and the fourth inning came to a close. Joe made a ‘not bad’ face, then gave you a grin.

“So, Yankees fan?”

“Uh, you know it,” you scoffed, nodding as you looked out to the field and smiled before making eye contact with him again. He had a kind gaze, you noted, and his smile was just as evident in his eyes as it was in his actual smile. “Wouldn’t miss a game for the world. Not even that exhibit on Governor’s right now.” You felt your stomach flipping a bit, Joe watching you very intently and almost intimidating you with how genuinely invested he was in what you had to say.

“The World War II one?” Joe inquired, and he chuckled when you made a positive noise in response. “I was in a show about WWII a couple years ago. Maybe you’ve heard of it? The Pacific?”

“That was you?” you gasped, involuntarily reaching out and grabbing his arm. Although the both of you registered it, you awkwardly decided not to say anything and just continued talking, Joe trying to mask his reaction at the tingly feeling your touch left on his arm. “Holy shit, I loved that show! I didn’t even recognize you.” Laughing, you let go of his arm and just paused for a moment, recalling how excited you’d been about that miniseries.

“Yeah, not my biggest claim to fame, but definitely up there. Still doesn’t get me recognized at baseball games, though. I got that more in the 90′s.”

“The 90′s - you must have been a baby!” you teased, in disbelief that he was any older than 25. There was no way he was anything but a toddler back in the 90′s.

“God, the closer I get to my 30s, the more that excites me,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, I was a little more than a baby back then. I was a whole, grown kid.”

“Grown kid - what a paradox,” you scoffed, giving him a gentle eye roll as a few people around you chuckled at something. “Alright, I’ll bite - in the 90′s, what were you in?”

“Would you believe me if I said some commercials and that was it?” Pursing your lips, you gave him an unmoved look and he chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. You were surprisingly adorable despite the currently deadpan expression. In fact, he was beginning to like all of your expressions, and all of your mannerisms. You were pretty laid-back for a woman of your age - like you were comfortable not putting up a front around him and men in general. “I was in Jurassic Park.”

“No way!” you gasped, thinking back to the movie and vaguely remembering a little boy around your age that had resembled him. “Oh my god, all I remember about it is that I wanted to be your friend... and I had an embarrassingly big crush on Jeff Goldblum.”

“Oh god, me too,” Joe agreed, waving a hand dismissively at the thought that anyone didn’t feel things for Jeff Goldblum.

Some faint laughter and shifting glances around you suddenly distracted you from your intense conversation with Joe, and you looked around for a moment before groaning and shielding your eyes at the jumbotron, trying not to laugh. “We’ve been called out.”

Joe looked at the large screen to see the both of you with a superimposed timer beneath you, dubbed the “Oblivious Cam.” You’d both been so invested in the conversation, they’d nearly been timing you for a minute by the time you realized. Waves of embarrassment washed over the two of you as you realized everyone in the stadium had watched what you had assumed was a mainly private interaction. Suddenly, the hand on the arm thing was mortifying.

“Well, at least we look good,” Joe offered, waving to the camera and shrugging before they kicked it off, going into the fifth inning. Joe was right, he did look damn good. And the fact that he thought you looked good too, despite your lack of commonplace women’s wear around a baseball game (see: tight-fitting unbuttoned jerseys, short shorts, heels, etc.). You’d shown out in some jeans and a ratty jersey you’d had since God knows when, with some combat boots to pull it all together. And he still thought you looked good.

He very much did. He thought you looked so good, in fact, that he took you out for drinks after the game. And then sitting down with the public became a regular occurrence for you - even though Joe wasn’t at every game, he showed up to far more games than he would have regularly, just so he could see you. But he’d never admit that, not even up to the day that he asked you out.

Which, of course, you’d been floored - men usually don’t ask out one of the boys. But you said yes, of course! And a couple months later, when he offered to fly you out to California to see the baseball movie he’d been working on about his brother, you jumped at the opportunity.

Mainly because it was an away time for Yankees.

Oops.

When you showed up on set with Joe, the cast immediately welcomed you as one of their own, and you took up residence in the bleachers/near the fence, psyched to see what they were working on for the day and also stoked because you’d probably become an extra because of this appearance. Acting credits on top of journalism? Score.

Today was the day they were filming Pat’s breakdown, and you were excited to see just how riled up Joe could get as you leaned against the admittedly searing-hot chain-link fence. Between takes, Toby, who’d taken quickly to befriending you, came over in all his English glory to visit with you about the upcoming shots.

“You ready to see Spaz Mazz?” he joked, making you laugh at the corny nickname as you nodded, letting go of the chain-link for a moment.

“Absolutely. I’ve seen Joe at baseball games, so can’t wait to see who he absolutely rails today.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day, because it’s me,” Toby chuckled, fixing his hat as Joe caught sight of the two of you, smiling and waving before going back to whatever directorial duties he was working on. Waving back, Toby sighed melodramatically before turning to you. “He yells at quite a few of us, but in the table-read, he really let me have it in this scene. The struggles of being the fun one,” he lamented, making you roll your eyes and wish him good luck as Joe called for the next shot to start.

And in a few moments, you saw exactly what Toby meant. Well, not saw. You just got to listen as Joe absolutely went off on Manny’s character in the dugout, a gleeful laugh leaving your lips as you heard him threaten to shove a bat up Zapata’s ass, then yelling at Palacco for shitting away his talent. After the more emotional part, you burst out laughing when a sudden, “Oh, shut the fuck up, Zapata!” rang in your ears.

Covering your mouth quickly, you resorted to just grinning while you listened to them methodically reconstruct the scene over and over, taking several shots in the mid-afternoon heat before deciding to call it since the lighting was waning, not providing for the right time of day for the shot that was slotted next.

Joe was one of the last to finally filter off the field, finding you immediately and giving you a mildly-tired grin as he wrapped his arm around you, walking off towards the parking lot with you. 

“Toby said Seb’s in town and wants to meet up for dinner with Chace and us. You hungry?”

“Starving,” you affirmed, leaning against him a bit as you climbed up the hill. “That was an... interesting performance. You sound a little hoarse.”

“Yelling all day can wear a guy out,” he agreed with a small chuckle, pulling out his keys to his rental and stopping in front of the car to just stand with you for a moment. The eye-black on his cheeks was smeared from sweat, his hair a mess, and you could definitely tell he was slouching a bit, tired from the day’s proceedings.

But he still was smiling down at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back before leaning up and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into an affectionate kiss, which he eagerly reciprocated. 

His arms wrapped around your waist, hands resting dangerously low on your back, but not enough to raise alarms, and you grinned against his lips before pressing a gentle peck to the lower one, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear.

“I like the baseball pants look on you.”

A throaty chuckle escaped his mouth and he gave you one last kiss before wrapping an arm around your waist and ushering you to the passenger seat, letting you open the door and start climbing in yourself before he swiftly reached out and pinched your ass, closing the door for you with an innocent grin on his face when you shot him a warning look.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he defended when he climbed into the driver’s seat after a few moments. “You brought up butts and you know yours is my favorite butt.”

“I’m glad,” you laughed, shaking your head as you watched him start the car, sucking your lower lip into your mouth for a moment before grinning mischievously. “But I wasn’t talking about your butt, though that was nice too.”

Joe’s eyes lit up at your statement, a light flush filling his cheeks as he wrestled with what you’d just suggestively implied. Looking over to you, his jack went slightly slack, and all he could manage was a soft “Oh.”

“Smooth, babe. Real smooth.”

“You caught me off guard, come on!”

And for Queen, I ship you with Brian May!

We all know that Brian struggled with being raised as a rather womanly boy, so your more masculine personality equals out beautifully with his feminine tendencies. In categories where he lacks a masculine touch, you make up for that absence, and when you have issues with a feminine touch, he’s right there to help you along.

Synergy!

Plus, heart eye emoji at the fact that you’re a fat-bottomed girl.

Anyways, I think you and Brian would be lifelong friends. The tall ol’ softie never would have survived high school without his loyal best friend, you, to guide him through that emotional rollercoaster.

But I really don’t think you’d have a crush on him at first. I think he’d be absolutely smitten with you from the get-go - you were his rock, the only person to ground him when he got too high-strung. But because of his tendencies to be high-strung and eternally confused, you never saw him as more than a close friend.

That is, until one night that you were hanging out with him and the boys, and Roger had you caught up in a particularly in-depth conversation about Black Sabbath’s eponymous album that had been released recently. 

Roger was your go-to for anything metal related, which made Brian only slightly jealous as he watched the two of you intensely discuss whether you appreciated the blues notes that they brought to some of the songs on the album. 

“I think The Wizard is the most genius one out of all of them!” Roger gushed, and you nodded in agreement as you listened to him start to ramble on about how much he loved the song. Always the listener, you only let your eyes roam for a brief moment, pausing when you saw Brian just past Roger’s scruffy golden-brown hair.

When he caught your eye, he sent you a small smile and a brief eye roll about Roger’s rants that made you grin, and you quickly looked back to Roger as he summarized his opinion, finally. “I agree, but what about N.I.B? You can’t tell me that it isn’t up there on the quality list.”

When Roger began to dissent against your opinion, you quickly excused yourself to go grab another drink and left him to simmer, instead making your way to the kitchen and pouring yourself the rest of the whiskey as Brian entered.

“Sounds like you guys had some really important stuff to discuss,” Brian observed as he pouted slightly at the empty whiskey bottle, instead fetching himself a beer.

“I love Roger, but he could talk my ear off if I didn’t learn when to say no.” Chuckling, your lanky friend joined you at your side and leaned back against the counter, opening his beer while you took a sip of the whiskey in your cup. He watched as your nose just barely wrinkled compared to the way that his scrunched up after every sip of straight bourbon, and admiration quickly overtook his features, not able to slip away fast enough when you looked up at him.

“What?” you laughed, cocking your head a bit when he smiled at you oddly, sitting his beer on the counter. “I know I left my flat in a hurry, but do I really look that rough today?”

“No, no,” he stammered, laughing nervously as he looked forward to observe your friends out in the living room. His heart was racing, and he feared that you could hear it from that close as he swallowed hard, speaking again. “Far from it.”

That brought a slight blush to your cheeks, and you looked forward as well, your brain racing a million miles a minute as you tried to calm down. Brian usually never made you this flustered, so it was confusing to you that such a simple comment could spike your heart rate so easily. What happened?

Looking over to him again, you desperately tried to work out what was different about Brian now versus every other time he’d made an offhanded flirtatious comment all throughout your childhood. He was still looking at the living room, his eyes brimming with something unreadable, and you realized how much he’d grown from the spindly little straight-haired preppy boy you’d grown up with. 

Now he was even taller in multiple ways - of course, his height had shot up, but he also held himself in a more confident way too. He was unafraid for the most part, far from the nervous wreck you’d spent hours upon hours convincing to go do hoodrat shit with you. 

He was so sure of things now. Even if he had momentary doubts, he’d never been focused on something more than he was with the band. 

And, it did help that he was absolutely beautiful now. He’d began growing out his hair, and the curls that were on constant display were fascinating, jet-black and shiny and tempting to touch. His aquiline nose and toothy smile only added to the charm, all of it wrapped together by the warm hazel eyes that were always watching you, like right now, and suddenly you realized you were both staring at each other a moment too late as Roger came in, looking between the two of you.

Deciding against the obvious question, he instead raised an eyebrow and looked over to the empty whiskey bottle to your right, scowling. “Who did it?”

Thoroughly flustered and distracted, you took a moment to realize that Brian was pointing directly to you, and with an astonished cry, you smacked his hand away, cursing him as he laughed at you.

And from there, a slow burn of a friends-to-lover flame was alight. And I mean slow, as in not reaching culmination until 1973 or 1974, when they were really starting to make it big-time. After all, this was a ‘one of the boys’ relationship you’d had going on previously, so navigating from that to accepting your attraction to Brian and his requited attraction to you was difficult.

You’d never realized how much you really wanted to be more than just his friend until he was off on the Queen II tour and you’d gotten a call from Roger telling you that they were heading back suddenly, due to Brian’s rapidly declining health. And in those hours between that call and their arrival in London, you’d never felt more afraid. 

Suddenly, you knew exactly what it was like to be on Brian’s side of things, so you rushed to the hospital to see him.

He was yellow, so off-color, and he looked so weak when you saw him that you almost started crying when he managed a smile at your appearance. 

“Jesus, Brian, you’ve caught your death,” you muttered as you stood there next to his bed, knowing you couldn’t really touch him - that was the worst part. Now, more than ever, you wanted to hug him. But the risk of transfer was daunting, and you didn’t know if it was aggressive enough to be transmitted even by an embrace.

“Feels like it,” he laughed, his voice softer than ever before, and you frowned as you decided holding his hand was enough, taking the yellowing fingers between yours and lacing your hand with his, squeezing it gently when he gave you another soft smile. “Glad you’re here.”

“Wish we were anywhere but here, honestly,” you replied gently, on the verge of tears at the sight of your best friend so weak. “Do you need anything? Water? Food? A book?”

“Oh, shut up,” he mumbled at your fussing, a small laugh leaving his lips as he closed his eyes. “All I need right now is you. Thank you.”

“Never in my life would I expect to be thanked for hanging around and annoying the daylights out of you. Don’t you get tired of me, May?” you teased softly, trying to ease up the atmosphere as his thumb traveled over your knuckles slowly, the calloused, scratchy pad of this thumb leaving small white marks on your skin where it irritated you.

“Never,” he croaked out, so quiet you almost missed it, but a blush spread on your cheeks as you realized what needed to be said. It was now or never, and honestly, Brian was never going to have the balls to say it. That, unfortunately, was your department.

“Good. Because unfortunately, I really think you’re stuck with me for good now.”

“What?” he asked, not fully understanding what you were propositioning, although there was a hint of hope in his eyes as he opened them slowly, looking over at you. 

“I think it’s about time we went on a proper date. You and me.” You gave him a sly smile, seeing a shallow fluttering of his chest as he reckoned with what you’d just said. 

“Right now?” he whined softly, looking around at the room and sighing. “You really picked the worst time to decide that you fancied me back.”

“Oh, shut up.” It was your turn to send him an annoyed look as you stood up, giving his hand one last squeeze before heading towards the door, stopping right before you got there and looking back at him. “Anything you want me to smuggle up from the cafeteria for our date?”

He watched you for an exceedingly long time, staying completely silent and just admiring you before finally swallowing dryly and laughing a bit. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

“I don’t think that’s on the menu down there, sorry, lovie.” He rolled his eyes at your attempt at teasing, and closed his eyes as you grinned to yourself, practically floating down the hallway on pure love.

[romaniassexdungeon]

Shattered Romanticism of a God - chapter 9

Pairings: SuFin, NedDen,

Vidar - Norway // Tolli - Iceland // Luca - Luxembourg // Adriaan - Netherlands // Gunner - Denmark

Sorry this is late. I'm a slow dumbass. I would like to try to keep this updated regularly, though, as it has a whole load of support and I feel bed when I can't update due to being a sleepy bitch. There's some dumb jokes in here, but no funny business. Hope you enjoy.

Read on AO3

Vidar would make a good manager.

He was cunning, ruthless and incredibly intelligent, and the music industry had no idea of the storm that was coming. He could and would calculate his way to success, using whoever he needed, and dumping them in the gutter when they’d outlived their use. He was a filthy, greedy man who would probably meet his end at the guillotine, but at least he’d be swimming in money and power until the end. He would drag the Screaming Pagans to the top, or burn everything trying.

At least, that was what Gunner said in his tipsy pre-drinks speech.

He slapped his cousin on the shoulder, laughing heartily as he pulled him into a one-armed hug. “We’ll be getting bookings every week now!”

“No pressure then,” muttered Tolli, standing next to Tino.

The Screaming Pagans, Tino, and Tolli were crowded in Berwald and Gunner’s main room, all a couple of glasses of wine into what promised to be a night of drinking. And dancing. And acting like idiots.

Eduard, for some reason, had turned down his own invitation. Something about not wanting to babysit drunk Tino, and having a date of his own. Unfortunately, he’d refused to say more on the subject. No matter how much Tino asked and pleaded and teased about his date actually being his hand.

For the first time ever, Eduard hadn’t risen to the bait, so Tino had to suspect he really did have a date. Well, good for Eduard! Internet explorer-chan body pillow or real woman, it was an improvement.

He wasn’t a big clubbing guy, anyway. But, neither was Berwald, now that he thought about it. Was he dreading it? Tino shuffled over to him and took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Berwald almost smiled back.

“Trinity is the best place in town,” Gunner insisted, lining them all up outside the club of his choice.

“That’s it, you’re officially old,” Tolli rolled his eyes, “to anyone born this century, it’s Club Galaxy. They’re the best, and they’re a student bar so drinks are cheaper. Also it’s my uni bar so I get things for extra cheap.”

“You go there too?” asked Luca, beaming like he'd found a new ally.

“Their music’s too loud,” Gunner whined, proving Tolli’s point. “You can’t talk to people! And their beer's bad.”

“Drink vodka, then,” said Vidar, “don’t be a pussy.”

“No thanks. I don’t like the taste.”

“Costs more to get blackout drunk.”

“What makes you think that’s what I want? Maybe I just want a couple beers and a relax?”

Vidar flicked him on the ear affectionately. “Because I know you.”

“I’m not gonna get stupid. This time. Maybe. You’re no fun.”

“Don’t bully him,” Gilbert whined, “just cause we’re old, doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

“I’ve felt old since 17,” Tino commented, only within earshot to Berwald. “Or at least, my back does.”

Berwald nodded in agreement.

“You’re all old and embarrassing,” muttered Tolli. "Why do I spend time with you?"

Vidar shrugged. "Can't make friends your own age?"

“I’m cool,” Gunner pouted, “I smoke and fuck!”

“I gave you one toke and you almost choked, cried, then asked to go to the hospital,” said Adriaan, raising his eyebrow.

“No comeback for the fucking thing, I see.” Gunner flicked his nose, “also you charged for every puff. You're literally the worst.”

“I refuse to believe you fuck,” said Vidar, “not having a proper job really leaves you swimming in cock, especially when you take them home and show them your Lego model collection.”

“Did I fucking ask? I have a real job, and some people still have a childish side. Surely your girlfriend isn’t completely boring, right? She gotta have a childish side.”

“Nope.”

“Really? Not even a little?”

“She likes gross, sexual jokes, like some 12 year old, but generally no.”

Gunner blinked. “Huh. Wasn’t expecting that. Does she collect stuff? Everyone collects stuff, right? You know, I really do think she's a robot.”

“Ornamental knives.”

“Bruh, that’s so hot. Does she ever… use them? On you?”

Vidar looked at him. “I’m not answering that.”

“Are we talking about kinks?” asked Tino excitedly.

Gilbert winced. “And other things not beneficial to my relationship with the lord.”

“I wanna talk about kinks too!” Luca clapped his hands excitedly.

“Like the person saying your name?” suggested Tolli, to Vidar’s horror.

“You’re way too young to-”

“I’m eighteen, shitlips, I’ll talk all I want.”

“I used to be into the name thing,” Gilbert commented, “I dunno, it seemed nice, like your own hypeman. Except then the last 8 people said my name was too dumb to shout out in a sexy way.”

Gunner raised an eyebrow. “And by 8 people, you mean…”

“Two. But it really, really hurt my feelings.”

Tino burst out laughing. “Oooh, my turn!”

“No!” Vidar covered his mouth, “we haven’t got all night.”

Tino wondered if it was his imagination, or if Berwald looked a little disappointed at that. Did he want to know what Tino was into? Tino wanted to know what he was into, even if it was just holding hands under the moonlight, he’d be happy to indulge.

Though if Berwald was into feet, Tino was telling him to fuck off right now. Some weirdo kept sending him emails asking for feet pics and it honestly unnerved the hell outta him. He hoped it was just Vidar playing a prank on him.

Email weirdo was offering 1100 krona, though. Seemed like easy money, if Tino was 20% poorer and had 5% less dignity.

Why did his mind go to these places?

And now he’d missed whatever it was Luca had said to make everyone else start protesting and kinkshaming in horror.

“I just like the mask! And the lead!” Luca was defending, “I don’t actually want to be a dog!”

“Haha! Furry!” Gunner pointed and laughed at him. Adriaan bristled.

“What’s wrong with that?”

Gunner looked at him. “You made your brother a furry, didn’t you?”

“Good taste runs in the family.”

“I have never seen a fursona’s colour scheme that could be described as ‘good taste’.”

Adriaan reeled like Gunner had just punched him in the face. Luca looked like he was about to faint.

“Gunner,” began Tino, “how would you know unless you’ve seen multiple fursonas? Are you involved in the community?”

“You’re banned from writing about us, Väinämöinen. Not if you’re gonna be exposing us like that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a furry,” said Tolli, “except to everyone who picked on me in high school apparently.”

“Because you wore your fursuit to school every day,” Vidar pointed out. “And you were fourteen and refused to wear deoderant.”

“So you’re the guy who gives us all a bad name?” asked Luca. “Tolli!”

“I was a different person then!”

“Am I the only person in the band who isn’t a furry?” asked Gilbert.

“M’not a furry,” Berwald mumbled.

“I’m not in the band,” added Tolli.

“Also I’ve rped with your brother on furaffinity,” said Adriaan, "Lud's fursona is a German shepherd into BDSM."

Gilbert started banging his head against the wall. “I really wish we were inside and I didn’t have to listen to you people.”

“The music isn’t as loud, though,” Tolli pointed out, “you could still hear us.”

“It’s loud enough for me to escape!”

“Okay, just be on your best behaviour,” said Gunner, “we’re advertising the Screaming Pagans too, remember.”

“That why you’re all wearing band t shirts?” asked Tino, wishing he’d worn his, too, even if he wasn't a band member. He liked fitting in, which was a little tricky, given how weird he was.

“Yeah, it was Vidar’s idea,” Gunner affectionately punched his cousin on the arm.

“Even though no one can read the band name because it looks like a pile of twigs?”

All five members of the Screaming Pagans, and new manager Vidar, looked down at their shirts in disappointment. Berwald looked so heartbroken Tino wished he’d said nothing.

“Hey, we’re in,” Luca pulled Tolli forward, striding past the bouncer with a sweet smile. After getting his hand stamped, Tino followed, holding Berwald’s arm when he started looking nervous. Maybe it was growing up with Eduard, but he tended to feel protective of introvert friends, even though he was something of an introvert himself. Dad instincts, or something.

He only had vague memories of Trinity, but the glowing purple lights did seem familiar. He’d thrown up in the bathroom here. Luca ran over to the bar to order shots, knocking them down with absolute glee, and Tino decided to join him. Berwald, like his cousin, tended to opt for beer, ordering one and sitting at a table in the corner. Tino and Vidar ended up joining him for an hour or so, getting progressively more drunk and watching their friends be stupid.

“Since when were those two together?” asked Tino, watching Gunner hump Adriaan like an overly excitable dog. Adriaan, for his part, actually seemed to be enjoying it, and kissed his cheek with more affection than Tino had ever seen him use, even with his family.

Berwald shrugged, staring at the two in what must pass for bewilderment with his face.

“You didn’t know?” asked Tino.

“Nah. S’plains a lot, though.”

“Like why Gunner’s always at his place?”

Berwald grunted.

“Do you think they’re good together?”

He shrugged. “Guess. Been best friends forever.”

“I don’t know how they put up with each other,” added Vidar, “but they do.”

“I think they’re sweet.” Tino watched Adriaan try to pick Gunner off the ground, then promptly give up and let him carry on trying to do the worm. It was more like a worm dipped in bleach, from what Tino could see, but at least it was less horrifying than what he’d been doing before.

When he finally looked away, Gunner had been doing the macarena to euphoria.

“Wanna dance?” he asked Berwald, who squirmed.

“Hey, you’re probably not as bad as me,” he reassured him, “come on. Just for a bit. One song, then we’ll sit back down.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Berwald nodded and let Tino lead him to the dance floor. He swayed awkwardly to the music, still holding Tino’s hands as he danced wildly out of tune, shaking his cheeks like a baby in a lion’s mouth. He cared little for those around him, and how many people were within range of his iron hips.

The terrible dancing did seem to amuse Berwald, but Tino could tell the blaring music was overwhelming him. He dropped it low, touched his face gently and took his hand, leading him outside for a moment. Out in the crisp, night air, Berwald looked a lot happier.

“Want to stay out here for a bit?” asked Tino, face softening. Berwald nodded, but he still looked uneasy.

“Want to stay out here forever?” he added gently, “or go home and drink instead?”

Berwald nodded again, significantly more enthusiastic. Tino rubbed his back until he was ready to make a move, giving Vidar a quick text to explain the situation. Then, he lead Berwald down the street.

“Want more beer?” he asked once they came across a corner shop. Tino picked a bottle of vodka for himself. A small one, so he wouldn’t get too stupid. And maybe seduce Berwald in a normal, acceptable manner. Maybe he’d think Tino was cute and smart and handsome and someone definitely worth dating. Except he wasn't cute! What was he saying?

Berwald nodded awkwardly, and Tino grabbed a six pack he’d seen him drink before. Not that he was paying attention to Berwald’s every preference and mood, despite the lack of facial cues to help with that.

Berwald insisted on paying, even though Tino’s drink was more expensive. He explained he and Gunner had gotten new jobs, just to tide them over and keep them housed until the band took off. Tino’s heart ached at the thought of them not being able to live their dreams yet; they had the talent, they just needed the chance.

Maybe Vidar really could get them there.

They had to be careful, as they stumbled through the streets - drinking and singing out of tune - that they didn’t run into any police officers who would take their alcohol. And maybe fine them if they were feeling particularly mean.

“Have you ever tho- thought about writing a song about corp- corp. Rich companies. And rich people.”

Berwald watched him try and get his sentence out in amusement. Tino, meanwhile, stepped onto a low wall to try and be eye-level with the man. He still wasn’t.

Berwald nodded. “Migh’ do. Call 'em out fer being evil.”

“Yeah, of course.” He stumbled, and Berwald steadied him, “just throwing out ideas. You see what sticks.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“What are you working on? Song-wise.” He wished Berwald would work on him. What did that even mean?

“Tryna find an angle,” he shrugged, “like, somethin’ unique.”

“Like the viking stuff?”

Berwald nodded. “Somethin’ else too. Lotta bands do the viking stuff.”

Tino nodded and thought for a while. “Right. Something to set you apart from other indie bands... Huh, you like Eurovision?”

“Course I do. M’Swedish.”

“What about metal covers of Eurovision songs? But, like, the weird ones. Who wouldn’t want a metal cover of dancing lasha tumbai?”

Berwald snorted. “Serious ‘nes too. Heroes m’tal version? Wanna do it.”

“Can I be the tiny LED boy who flies off with a balloon?” asked Tino.

“Mm! Please!”

“Although, as much as I love this idea, you know what’s better than metal covers of Eurovision?”

“Hm?”

“Actually sending metal songs to Eurovision.”

Berwald nodded. “Hung’ry’s got the right idea.”

“Hey! We did it first!”

He smirked. “They did it better.”

“You’ve literally covered Lordi! You ever covered AWS?”

“Dun member,” he mumbled childishly. Jokingly. Bastard.

“I was there. It was the first time I saw you perform?”

“Can’t recall.”

“It was night of the loving dead !”

“ Raise h’ll in heaven , actually.”

“How wasted was I? Also ha! You admitted it!”

Berwald gave a hum. He might’ve been a little too drunk. “M’ybe so. Hey, Tino?”

“Yeah?”

He came to a halt, then began singing in his beautiful, low voice. “ Sieben, Sieben, ai lyu lyu, Sieben, Sieben, ein, zwei, Sieben, Sieben, ai lyu lyu, ein, zwei, drei .”

Tino didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or shrivel up in cringe; Berwald's voice did not match the song at all, and his body had no idea how to react. He was completely in love. “Dude, marry me, but, like platonically,” he added quickly.

Berwald looked at him strangely, then took his hands and swung them from side to side. “Tanzen!”

“Ich liebe!” He gave a little jump.

Tino almost fell off his wall, and Berwald grabbed him by the waist. He spun him around, growling in his ear, “I want to see, lasha tumbai.”

“I want to see! Lasha tumbai!”

“Rock 'n roll angels bring thyn hard rock hallelujah, demons and angels all in one have arrived!”

Tino snuggled up to him, and his body felt a little colder after Berwald put him down.

“C’me on,” Berwald took his hand, “lets get back to- back to- um.”

“Your place?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?” asked Tino, tripping over the coat stand. Berwald steadied him gently, and Tino cuddled his arm in response, with no intention of letting go. “And you have nice arms. They’re… good-shaped. Shapey. Hard.” He traced his fingers over Berwald’s hand, over the veins and rough knuckles and all the little nicks in his fingertips. “Good hands... good, strong hands.”

Berwald, for his part, seemed to be trying his best not to laugh. That was fair; Tino’s entire life was a cringe compilation his cousins were slowly putting together.

“Do you make things?” asked Tino, “you should. You have creative...ing hands.”

“I whittle,” he mumbled.

”Of course! Good whittle hands! You can make things!”

“Helps with nerves,” he admitted.

“It’s sad you have troubles with nerve. Stupid nerves. You’re so amazing and beefy and smart and handsome and you can do anything.”

“Got nerf’d with anxiety.”

He smiled. “Like how I got nerfed by being a manlet?”

“Yer cute. Small ‘n cute.”

“Don’t make me come up there and fight you!” Tino hugged him instead. Or, more accurately, fell against him. Berwald wrapped his arms around him. “Can’t hurt you. Too nice. Stupid tree.” Berwald snorted and lead him to the sofa to sit down. He went to pour them both glasses of water, because he was that barrel of laughs who drank water on a night out, to stay hydrated.

“You’re good,” when Berwald sat down, Tino leaned against him, sipping the water. “So good. You’re the best. You’re so nice to me, and- and- I wish I could make it up to you, and tell you I like you.”

Berwald blinked at that. “Y’like me?”

“Yeah. I wish I could let you know. Like, by fellating you or something.”

“Telling me would be fine!” Okay, if Berwald was saying that, maybe Tino needed to work on communication. Except, right now, his head was swimming and he was talking out his arse.

“You deserve nice things,” he tried to explain, “and you’re so handsome.”

“Yer drunk.”

“You’re hot.”

“Yes, but y’need a lie down.”

Tino perked up at that. “In your bed?”

“Yes. Not like that. Jus’ sleeping.”

Tino nodded. “See? You’re so nice to me, even though I’m being gross and weird. Like, I just said I wanted to blow you and you’re looking after me.”

Berwald shrugged. “Like ya too.”

“Really? Even though I’m a mess?”

“Yeah. Cute. Fun.”

Tino nodded and rested his head on his chest. “Strong. Gentle.”

Berwald picked him up, bridal-style, and lead him to his bedroom. Tino looked around at Berwald’s sword collection before gently being laid down on the bed. He noticed a workbench in the corner with half-finished wood carvings set out in a line. The sheets were clean, bed made, and it didn't smell like it had been slept in.

“Your room is nice,” he commented, “sure- sure you don’t- want me-”

“Go to sleep,” Berwald began stroking his hair, “want me t’sing ya to sleep?”

Tino nodded. He’d pay hundreds to hear Berwald’s voice; how lucky he was to hear it here, in the calm of night.

“Rise, nations pride… Hold what's yours… Strike 'em were it hurts…”

“Think I might love you,” he mumbled. Berwald was too stunned to reply.

The next morning, Tino woke up with a raging hangover nowhere near as painful as the overwhelming shame as he began remembering just what he’d done and said and oh God he needed to get outta there .

So, whilst Berwald was still asleep - tangled up in his arms - he pulled himself out of bed as gently as possible, gathered up his clothes, and left, making as little noise as possible.

In the hallway, he ran into Gunner, also doing the walk of shame. Not that he had even heard of shame, judging by the smug grin he wore as he wiggled his eyebrows at Tino.

“Yo, did my cousin actually get some?”

“Fuck off Densen,” he ducked past him and out into sunshine that had no business being that bright.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous : The Catacombs

Pairing: Steve Roger x reader x Bucky Barnes 

warning:

words: 1946

First kiss | First touch | Moving in | The day they left | Found you | The day Stark found out| Big Change | The Train | The Plane | Alone | Unfortunate Sequence of events | I know her | Restaurant Pt 1| Restaurant Pt2 | It’s me | you can keep her | He’s okay with that | Mama loves me | Kissing Captain | Kissing Winter | Healing | Hurt | We’ll wait | Memories | Prude | Whore | Put in her place | The day Stark Jr. Found out | Now you know | Nursing | Like a virgin| Morning After | The Catacombs 

“Oh shit” (y/n) hear Steve moaned as she opened the door to find Steve moaning and holding the head board behind him and the sheets around his torso moving up and down.

“when you guys are done so is breakfast” (y/n) said  Bucky gave a thumbs up from under the covers and Steve moaned “ I-I love you both so much” 

“I know” (y/n) giggled returning to the kitchen.

Steve, Bucky, and (y/n) have been together for about 10 months now and (y/n)’s been with the Avengers for nearly a year and 3 months. They were good everything was good -no everything was great. They were in love and they were together still after almost 100 years. A 100 years and they were still in the Honeymoon faze nothing could end this. 

Things were going good for the Avenger they had moved into a compound in upstate New York combining with Shield.

Things were going good for (y/n). She was an official Nurse again working on and off the field. She would sometimes go on missions with the team but stay in the jet with Bruce unless someone was injured. She worked on and off the field getting a lot of respect from the agents and from the medical staff. She as well as Bucky both cut back on their visits with their therapist only visiting every two weeks.

They were all getting better they were all doing well.

-

“Eat quickly we have a meeting in 15 minutes” (y/n) says placing a plate in front of both of them.

“what about? Debriefing?” Bucky asked

“no, a new mission some Hydra base was found but it’s in a different country so they want to go over things before we check it out” (y/n) explained

“we?’ Steve asked

“Yes we. You, him, and me your special sexy nurse”  (y/n) winked taking a bit of her pancake. Bucky turned to Steve “why do we have her here again?” he pointed at her

“she’s entertaining and we kind of love her so...”  Steve said (y/n) giggled.

-

“we’ve got permission to go into Paris but we can’t damage anything. And if we do it has to be minimal and there can’t be any civilian casualty-”

“Basically we can’t fuck up is what you’re saying” Bucky said 

“Yeah what he said” Tony said pointing to Bucky who just rolled his eyes. Of course he was right.

“What do we know about this base?”  Steve asked getting back on topic and opening the files.

“It’s part of the Catacombs and a warehouse. I don’t know how they managed that but they did. Now this is were we need to be careful our intel says this base is working in poisons. So we’re going to have to masks on us and gloves and all we’re going to have a poison team on hand in case something does happen.”

“what kind of poisons? how do they intake?” Natasha asked 

“we really don’t know we just know they’re air born. In this mission inhaling is bad” 

“so don’t breath” (y/n) said jokingly Tony glared at her but continued on. 

“It should be an easy in and out mission. There shouldn’t be a real problem but still be careful” Tony said 

“alright lets suit up” Steve said leaving the room first and taking his file. 

(y/n) and Bruce were waiting in the jet as the others got suited up. Out of all the others (y/n) could say she had the closest friendship with Bruce. He was just calm he listened and understood and just got along even when they didn’t. She could describe her relationship with Bruce as a sibling bond he was the older super wise brother and she was the annoying younger sister. 

“So.... how are things going are you enjoying your soldier sandwich?”  Bruce teased (y/n) giggled 

“yes I am enjoying my soldier sandwich. How about you have you found someone to enjoy?”

“I’m enjoying the bro science sandwich I got going on right now with Tony.”

“Tony’s not very good looking you know maybe you should find someone prettier”.

“What about me not being pretty” Tony said entering the jet “ I have you know I’m very pretty. And there are several articles on my prettiness because I’m that pretty” he said making fun faces and shaking his head in (y/n)’s face she giggled and pushed him away. 

“Go fly the plane idiot.”

As the jet took off (y/n) found herself cuddling between her two super soldier. Right where she needed to be. 

As the jet grew closer and closer to their destination the more and more (Y/n) felt unease. It was like during a scary movie were the scary music started playing you knew something bad was coming but you didn’t know what, where, or when you just knew it was coming. The further they flew from home and the closer to danger the more she held on and squeezed her soldiers together for some reason she felt like she was about to lose them. 

What they hell were they heading into?

“What’s wrong doll?” Bucky whispered into (y/n)’s ear as he and Steve had notice her becoming incredibly unease. Holding them tighter and pulling them closer to her kissing their hands and arms.

“I jus...” She looked into his eyes then she looked at Steve who was also looking down at her she couldn’t lie “ I feel like something bad is going to happen and I’m really scared. I don’t want you to get hurt I don’t want anyone to get hurt but something bad is going to happen I just... something bad is going to happen.” 

(y/n) was on the verge of tears she was so close to crying.

“Baby it’s okay. We’re going to be very careful and we’re going to going to be fine. It’s okay baby we’ll be okay. Everyone will be okay” Steve said hugging and kissing her.

“Promise?”

But they couldn’t promise that because they didn’t know. They too were feeling uneased as they came closer and closer to the place they didn’t know what was to come but they knew it was coming and it wasn’t good. They couldn’t promise anything.

“We’ll be back, okay?”.

They weren’t going to promise anything and she knew it.

“okay”.

-

(y/n) and Bruce sat in the jet and watched as the other walked into the tunnel and vanished into the darkness one by one. The feeling was strong now and she was feeling nauseas and unease. Surely she wasn’t the only who felt this way.

 “do you feel it?” (y/n) turning back to Bruce

“I mean … they are going into the catacombs. A place built from dead bodies.”

“who the hells idea was it to build a base in the catacombs?”

“Who the hells idead was it to build the catacombs?!” Bruce tossed his hands up. Was he the only one to see how wrong this was. It was literally a place made of dead bones the walls were bones of the dead and no one was worried about that. Was he the only sane person here. 

Feeling the uneasiness from the tunnel Bruce closed the jets doors. 

“just think of this a just another mission. They’ll be fine” Bruce said trying to calm her.

“yes another mission into the dark and dead of the catacombs. Yes like any other mission” (y/n) laced every word with sarcasm .

“I see your point and raise you a card game” Bruce said holding up a pack of uno cards (Y/n) giggled.

As (Y/n) and Bruce played Uno they listen to the team make jokes over the radio. Despite the jokes (y/n) still felt unease like something bad was creeping on them. She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice when the radio started going crazy.

“Hey (y/n), (y/n)” Bruce shook her out of it to listen. They were finally getting some action the gun fire could be heard over the radio. 

“Bucky’s been hit” Steve said panicked over the radio 

“Shut up punk it was a graze I’m fine” Bucky said annoyed.

“Um guys” Bruce said on the radio looking at the open door “ she’s gone...(y/n)’s left”.

She’s gone was gone as soon as she heard Bucky and hit.

-

Running through the halls (y/n) had a gun in hand. She didn’t even know where she was going all she knew is she was going. She followed the sound of gunfire in hopes to find one of her boys. She hear French screaming behind her she immediately turned around put a bullet through his head then turned the other corner. She was not playing she was looking for her men.

“Lady (Y/n) what are you doing here?” Thor asks as he see (y/n) running by in a nearby hallway as he was fighting. She came back and just the two men Thor was about to fight. Shen then came and took a much bigger gun.

“Bucky got hurt “

“It was a graze” Thor said as she ran away “ Steve, Bucky your lady has entered the building and is looking for you”

“what?!” Bucky said 

“Where is she?”

“I just told you she left. Where did you think she went on a freakin’ shopping spree”  Bruce said angrily no one was listening to him.

(Y/n) didn’t have an earpiece so she had no clue what was going on or where her boys were. She was just running round following gunfire and voices and hoping it was in the direction of her boys. The more she went down the more skeletons she saw but she was to focused on finding her boys to really panic about it.

Suddenly something flew past her head she looked back to see a beautiful red, white, and blue shield. “Steve” she said when she saw him punch a random guy in the face. “(y/n)” he said confused and pissed. Oh boy was he pissed . So she did the most logical thing in this kind of situation and... ran away.

 “(Y/N) (Y/N) GET YOU’RE ASS BACK HERE (Y/N)” Steve yelled but she was long gone she would have to deal with that later on. The later consequences came in three options lecture, silent treatment, and or not being able to sit straight for at least a week. And she would take two of those punishments with honor.  (she hated being ignored).

Leaving Steve behind, he seemed okay, she continued to look for Bucky. Most of the halls were deserted down all the forces going for the Avengers. And the halls were getting smaller honestly (y/n) was now starting the feel the fear she wished she had picked up an earpiece.

Hearing some noise around the corner (y/n) took a deep breath “ oh no I’m about to do some stupid white girl horror movie shit, fuck my too long life” she said whispering a soft “excuse my language” afterwards. She her gun she lost the big gun shooting up bad guys and had nothing but a small pistol left checking to make sure it was full she then went for it. Following a the sound the closer she got the more it sounded like a piano when she turned into the room the sound stopped and she found guess what … a piano but no one else.

“what in the world?”

“Oh my darling girl you’ve finally returned to me”  She turned around gun held high when she saw her. 

A Woman a thin woman with pale skin dark rings around her eyes and greasy black hair. She dressed in a long black dress, black pointed high heels, and a fur fox around her neck. How could she forget this woman the woman that tortured her for years. Took her from her life and made her a slave. Ruined everything and put her here today. The demon that brought her an unfortunately being to a beautiful life.

“Mama?”

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[michaelmyersmalewife]

DYAD | ii. contact

words: 2k+

ship: venom symbiote/reader

warning(s): none

you can also support this fic on wattpad & ao3

"You'll be staying here with our other volunteers for now."

You struggled to keep up with the dark-haired woman ahead of you, barely being given the chance to observe your surroundings. It was obvious that you were in a lab somewhere beneath the Life Foundation's main building, but other than numerous people donning lab coats scurrying throughout the room, you had no idea what to expect. They had already stripped you of what little clothes you were able to keep, favoring to put you in a mildly uncomfortable hospital gown. Now you were trailing after a particularly talkative doctor, though your attention wavered after the first five minutes.

The woman (Dr. Skirth, you remembered her brief introduction from earlier) lead you to a room separate from the larger lab. It was almost maze-like, the numerous glass cells acting like a hall of mirrors. You could see that some of the cells were already occupied by three - maybe four - people, their forms roused by your sudden entrance. Your attention lingered on them until Skirth stopped a few feet in front of you, almost causing you to crash into her had you not been careful. She whipped around to face you, the hair that was held in a loose bun nearly falling out of place. A small, joking smile appeared on her face, hand facetiously shielding it from outside view.

"It doesn't give you much privacy but it'll be your home for the next few months."

You gave a halfhearted snort.

She cleared her throat, scanning the card attached to the lanyard that hung around her neck and quickly punching in numbers into the cell's door.

"We'll be coming back for you in the next half hour to take some initial diagnostics so go ahead and get comfortable."

You nodded, taking a seat on the surprisingly soft bed. She seemed nice.

The cage-like "room" in front of you is more than a little simple - a clear, glass box with a notably frame-less mattress on the side farthest from you. It felt...sterile. Even your old cell back in the ward came with more than this. But it was clean and not meant to be shared, which was a definite improvement. But you couldn't help flinching internally at the sound of hearing the door lock itself shut. Somehow, it felt as though you had gotten yourself trapped again.

Take a chill pill, won't you? You're not there anymore. He doesn't know. you thought to yourself.

He doesn't know where you are. And that's enough for you.

~~

When Dr. Skirth said half an hour, you didn't think they would be so on the dot. You didn't do much - though there wasn't much for you to do to begin with besides watch your fellow recruits be taken out for examinations.

You were on the verge of falling asleep when Skirth returned. She looked a little more disheveled from when you last saw her, this time flanked by three other official-looking scientists (at least, you assumed they were from the stark white coats they wore). There was something unnerving in how silent they were. Looking around, there was probably one other person in the cells that seemed to catch the vibe. They said nothing as they brought you out, leading you once again through the labyrinth of a facility that was the Life Foundation.

So far you hadn't passed by anything telling you what exactly you'd be doing here. The lab seemed disappointingly generic. They hadn't even bothered to answer your questions on the trip to the lab, but you didn't expect them to anyway. You just wanted out, and if this was your ticket to a place where nothing - no one - could find you, then so be it.

The entourage of scientists had taken you to yet another overwhelmingly sterile room. The fluorescent lighting was almost blinding but you could tell that you were in some sort of examination room a doctor would have, only much larger. It had the usual - a long padded table, a weight scale, and a height chart. But to one side was a treadmill and an MRI scanner. But that wasn't what set you on edge. One wall was a huge mirror - a one-way mirror no doubt. If you hadn't already felt like a lab rat, you did now.

Behind you you could hear chatter from the group of researchers, Dr. Skirth among them. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but the woman quickly parted from her colleagues, gripping the clipboard in her hands as she entered the room.

"Alright so before we get started on the tests I have to ask you a few questions. Nothing serious but answer truthfully, please." She said, setting the clipboard down on a nearby table in favor for a thin stack of papers. "We just wanna get a good idea on where you are in terms of health."

"Sounds good." you nodded.

"Are you currently taking any drugs? If yes, for how long?" she paused for a second before quickly adding a "Prescription also count, by the way."

You had been sober for over a year, (not entirely by choice, but it was for the best) and it was one of the few things you prided yourself on.

The rest of the questions went about the same route. You didn't really do much during your time in your previous confinement. It was the first time you genuinely tried behaving, and this time around you were glad it actually paid off.

After putting away the papers, Skirth handed you a long band, instructing you to place it just below your chest.

"Don't worry, it's just heart monitor."

In the back of your mind, you thanked yourself for making it a point to use the prison gym when you had the time. The tests weren't particularly grueling, they were fairly easy - if not basic. After measuring your height and weight, the real tests were only comprised of jumping jacks, push-ups, and about 20 minutes on the treadmill. It was a test you couldn't mess up, yet the thought of scrutinizing scientists (and although this was a small possibility, Drake) being on the other side of that mirror distracted you. Thankfully, not distracting enough to make you slip, only enough to make you all the more determined to do your most. That entire time Skirth had seated herself in front of a monitor, taking brief glances at the monitor in front of her while scribbling down whatever data appeared on her clipboard. About an hour had passed before she declared the "test" over. You were tired, but only just a little out of breath, gladly taking the bottle of water Skirth handed you.

"You did good! Definitely better than the ones we've gotten so far."

You couldn't tell if it was a thinly veiled compliment or not, so you opted for a shy smile.

"There's showers in the room over there so if you wanna clean yourself up, be my guest."

You gladly took the offer. You could feel the thin layer of sweat sticking to your skin, and you hated it. The water wasn't particularly warm, but it wasn't freezing either. You didn't care anyway. You just focused on the feeling of water running down your exhausted body. The extent of your exhaustion hadn't hit you until then, but the feeling of your tense muscles finally being able to relax was more than welcome.

~~

Before you knew it, a week had already passed.

You hadn't done much, you and the other subjects were subjected to daily exercises (though, only you and maybe one other person were handling it without complaints) and psychological examinations (those went about as well as you expected). You still didn't know your real purpose as a test subject, and asking the others had gotten you nowhere. They knew about as much as you did. Not even Dr. Skirth was willing to give you a hint, and she was by far the most easygoing researcher in the lab. You didn't want to think much of it, but the situation rubbed you the wrong way.

You were about to exit the communal showers when you heard muffled chatter from outside the room. You hoped the sound of the water running would mask your eavesdropping but at the same time your ears strained to make out what they were saying. You recognized Dr. Skirth - she didn't sound too happy, as she was trying to talk over the voice of a man. It wasn't until she quieted down that you realized the voice belonged to Carlton Drake.

"It's been six months at least, I think it's about time we introduce the symbiotes to the subjects."

"And I'm telling you they aren't ready! You saw how they reacted to the -"

"An unfortunate setback but that's all it was."

A minute passed and the gap in conversation would've felt far heavier had it not been for the cascade of water.

"We've had this talk before, Dora. You know my reasons."

You were really starting to hate him.

You hadn't heard anything after that, but you didn't exit the showers until you were sure you heard the door to the other room click shut.

Skirth was sitting at one of the tables, running a hand through loose strands of hair and staring at a corner of the room with an empty gaze.

"You okay?"

She flinched, quickly turning around to face you.

"Y-Yeah, yeah..uh, just wait for me outside, okay?"

You couldn't sleep that night.

It was rare for you to get so worked up so easily but it was nagging at your brain for the rest of the day. There were about a million questions popping up in your mind as you tried to get just a minute of rest. Why was Drake so insistent on borderline harassing people in the name of this "experiment" of his? But more importantly, what the fuck is a symbiote? A new drug or something equally questionable? With a company like the Life Foundation, you couldn't begin to fathom what they were planning.

You sighed, turning over once more in your bed, staring at the blacklights that lit up the room in a dim, blue glow.

~~

The next week isn't any better. If anything, it felt worse.

The physical tests continued on as normal, only this time you noticed there would be..exceptions. The first one they took was a tall, thin man with long stringy hair. You hadn't spoken to him much in your time in the cells, but you and the others had formed a strange solidarity in knowing you were each subjected to these secretive circumstances. When he didn't return one day, everyone noticed, and none of you were in the least bit comforted no matter what excuses the scientists gave you.

You thought it couldn't get any worse until it kept happening. By the end of the week they had replaced half of the old subjects with new ones, one being a particularly feisty woman with long black hair that nearly always fought back the men that would take her away for her tests.

You dreaded the day your turn would come - it was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before they carted you off to who-knows-where to supposedly dispose of you somewhere. And when that time came, you were quiet, calmly trailing after Dr. Skirth and two other men that accompanied her. She said nothing, but she held the same solemn - almost fearful - expression you had seen her with a few days ago. It made your stomach turn.

You entered a different room from the main lab you had grown used to.

It was fairly large, still keeping with the theme of smaller rooms made from clear glass. Monitors and tanks littered the space, though you couldn't see what they held. You would've been a little more than nervous upon being led to one of the rooms and left there by yourself. But the fact that Carlton Drake once again appeared in the room along with a larger group of scientists made your pulse quicken. You didn't trust him at all, and after the past week's events you didn't have a reason to. You scowled, leaning against something that looked like a small, horizontal tank. Drake approached the glass wall you faced. He smiled, though it seemed genuine, the smile wasn't reflected in the look in his eyes.

"So we meet again!" God he sounded like a comic book villain.

You shrugged. "So you gonna tell me what I'm really doing here now?"

Drake chuckled. "Patience is a virtue."

You drummed your fingers against the tank impatiently. The tank tapped back.

You shot away from it, swallowing a yelp as you tried to recover from the surprise. Drake still held that amused expression that was quickly becoming annoying. Your head twisted to the glass, frantically hoping someone could tell you what you were trapped in a room with. This couldn't be that thing he mentioned earlier, was it? You gathered your composure as best you could but you couldn't hide the nervousness growing in your gut.

"Wh-What is that?"

"That," he smiled "is the future."

[ragehappysecretsanta]

Author: http://gr-fire.tumblr.com

Recipient: http://double00mogar.tumblr.com

Summary: Daffodil means unrequited love.

Warnings: Mentions/thoughts of suicide but no action.

WordCount: 1438

Daffodil means unrequited love.

Well, it also means regard, rebirth and new beginnings.  But Ryan was fixated on unrequited love.

How much irony could be bundled into one flower?

The flower he had just coughed up moments ago.  The flower that had been growing in his lungs giving him difficulty breathing over the past few days.

How much meaning was behind that simple phrase; unrequited love.

Ryan threw the bloody flowers away without telling anyone.

He coughed up a white violet a few days after the first incident.  Let’s take a chance on happiness.

Ryan sat down and did some research and discovered they called his “problem” the Hanahaki disease.

Ryan was not impressed.

Ryan didn’t know what hurt more.  The flowers or watching his unrequited love laugh and smile around others.  Of course the other was allowed to have friends and be happy and everything but it still set an ache deep in his bones.

Because why?  Why wasn’t Ryan good enough for the other?

Ryan didn’t know and he decided he didn’t want to know.

“Dear god Ryan!  What the fuck?!”

Jack finally found out the one day they walked in the bathroom while Ryan was coughing up forsythias.  Anticipation.

“We need to get you to the hospital or something if you’re coughing up blood!”  Jack exclaimed grabbing Ryan’s arm and trying to pull him towards the door.

“Jack!  Stop, I’m fine!”  Ryan said in a harsh whisper trying not to draw the attention of others.  He was still clutching the bloody flowers in his hand.

“Fine?! You are coughing up gobs of blood!”  Jack barked back at Ryan.  Ryan finally got free and gave Jack a stern look to stop him in his tracks.

“Look Jack, it’s fine.  It’s just a disease that I-“

“Just a disease?!  Are you insane Ryan-“

“Look, it isn’t blood, they’re flowers!”  Ryan was almost yelling at the end.

Jack stopped in their tracks and stared at Ryan incredulously.  “Flowers?” Jack repeated.

Ryan nodded before going to the sink and washing the blood off of the flowers.  “See, I’m just coughing up flowers, not blood like you thought.”  Ryan tried to reason with Jack.

Of course Jack wasn’t convinced but decided to leave it be for the moment.  After double checking that Ryan wasn’t coughing anymore and helping him clean up the bathroom Jack left.

Ryan was afraid Jack was going to tell the rest of the crew and inevitably tell the person that caused this problem in the first place.

Jack confronted him a couple of days after the incident and offered Ryan a shoulder to lean on should he need it.  Ryan coughed up hydrangeas that day. Thank you for understanding.

It was during a heist when Geoff found out.  It’s not like Ryan could hide it as blood dripped out of his mouth onto the ground as he held the flowers in the hand that wasn’t holding his mask upward so he could cough up the oleanders. Caution.

Geoff did his own research and didn’t question Ryan anymore if he abruptly left the room.

For the first time in a while, Ryan cried.  He cried as he choked on the flowers that were trying to leave his lungs.

He was able to finally cough up the red carnations.  My heart aches for you.

He wanted to so badly to give up.  To just refuse to cough up the flower and suffocate on them.

He couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to the crew though.  As soon as his use for the crew was up, he would give up.

Because what life was Ryan living where he coughed up flowers every couple of days which just reminded him of what a failure he was.  And how the person he loved didn’t love him back.

Maybe Ryan was exaggerating and maybe he wouldn’t go that far.  But in that moment of weakness, Ryan wished for it all to be over.

‘Or even maybe just become purely the Vagabond and never let emotions come in again.’  That was the thought that was whispered maliciously in his head.  ‘Just let go of everything, especially them and just become the Vagabond, a mindless killing machine.’

Ryan repeated the thought of just wanting it to be all over in his mind.  But he didn’t want it to end that way where it’ll end in bloodshed and grief.  He would turn into a monster that not even the crew would be safe from.

No.  Ryan would continue on if only to keep his own personal demons away from destroying what he held near and dear.

The Lads originally thought that Ryan had an eating disorder.  But the lack of weight loss begged to differ.

Gavin thought that Ryan had a secret second crew but couldn’t prove it.

Michael didn’t give a single fuck what Ryan was doing but Gavin kept bugging him about it so he watched for Ryan as well.

Jeremy thought Ryan was sick with something but also couldn’t prove anything.

The Gents refused to talk about it though so it just raised the Lads’ curiosity.

“Ryan?” Ryan looked up as his name was called.

“Yeah?” He replied back, pushing away from the balcony railing to look at the other person.

“What is the name of the disease you have?” Was finally asked after a moment of comfortable silence, just enjoying each-others’ presence.

“Who said I had a disease?” Ryan countered back defiantly

“You keep running off and have been looking sickly”  Was reasoned back

“Doesn’t mean I have a disease” Ryan tried again but much weaker this time

“Doesn’t mean you don’t.  So what is it?”

There was silence for a minute.

“Hanahaki” Ryan finally said in a dead voice, because this meant the other knew now.

“Hana-what?”

“Hanahaki.  That’s the name.” Ryan stated before walking away.

Ryan leaned against the railings of the balcony again.

How easy was it just to end his life right now?  To just climb over the railing and jump to his death.  The other person would finally know and understand and it just would be so easy.

Ryan caught himself leaning even more forward.

No, Ryan wouldn’t succumb to that weakness of his.  He would be strong, if only for the crew.

The crew that gave him so much and didn’t ask much from him.  Sure they asked for him to be the person he was during a heist but any other time he was allowed to be himself without worrying about the consequences.  This was his family, his home.

“I looked it up.” Was the statement that made him almost choke on his breath in surprise.

Ryan was inside this time in the garage.  He was contemplating taking a bike to hide from the person that currently surprised him.  So much for that plan.

“I figured you would” Ryan finally stated after a few moments of catching his breath.

“Had a tough time spelling it though,” Was joked to try to lighten the mood before, “So who is the lucky person?”

“No one you need to know” Ryan was determined this time not to bend to the other’s will

“Don’t be like that.”

“I’m serious, drop it.  You don’t need to know” Ryan responded back almost harshly

“Well how can I help you if you don’t tell me.” Was reasoned back at him

“I don’t need your help.” Ryan tried again to be defiant but he was just so tired..

“Your disease says otherwise.” Snarked the other person

“Just drop it” Ryan tried one last time

“No.  Tell me Ryan” But the other person was so insistent

“Fine!  You want to know so badly?!  It’s you” Ryan finally exploded, “It’s always been you, ever since you first officially joined the crew after the trial run”

There was silence

“Me?” Was tentatively asked at last

“Yes you…” Ryan almost whispered, because it just hurt in that moment to admit it when he knew he was going to be rejected.

“Well…we can give it a shot.”

“I know you’re probably disgust-wait what?”  Ryan stopped dead in his tracks but was afraid to hope

“Yeah, I mean we can try.  I never gave it thought but it wouldn’t hurt to try.” Was finally confessed after a beat of silence

“What if it ends badly, this could affect the crew.” Ryan still didn’t dare to hope yet

“I don’t think it will. Plus we’re adults, we’ll figure it out.  So how about it?  One date?” Jeremy asked Ryan, turning towards him with a big smile.

Silence

“Sure, one date” Ryan felt something besides the flowers blossom in his chest.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

American Ways - Sirius Black x Reader

Request : @claireisreallynotonfire  hello my dear!!! could you do a sirius x reader where the reader is a transfer from ilvermorny in like the 6th year and immediately hits it off with the marauders. and sirius is infatuated with her, always calling her pet names, flirting, hugging, and touching and stuff. and reader just thinks it's a joke but one day sirius gets mad bc she's not taking him seriously ( lol pun ) and they end up together bc i really need some fluff with a teaspoon of angst. thanks love Warnings: My English? Language (always lol). Late night, crappy writing.  The image isn’t mine. Credits to its original owner. Also, I am so sorry for making you wait this long but the new semester has already taken a toll on me.  Word Count: 1848 MASTERLIST Pending Requests

It was one thing being the new student but it was completely another thing being the center of attention. It felt weird and… you kind of felt like you were an exhibit when people would stare or point at you. Yeah, okay, maybe you were the ‘American girl’ and yes, you had an accent and blah blah, but you hoped that after a day or two, they would leave you alone. You were being bombarded with questions about Ilvermorny, about your country, about the male population and so on. Well, that happened until four boys had walked on you and literally grabbed your arms and dragged you all the way to the Gryffindor common room. You were about to protest when you realized that they were doing you a favor. You had grown tired of answering the same questions and being looked at… strangely. So, you never really complained. When they finally let go, you just smiled and greeted them. “Hello, boys. Thanks for the rescue” you simply said. They didn’t expect that-far from it, actually. That’s when you became a ‘gang’ as you named it. They were punks and jerks but they were amazing people and really funny. You had no idea why you hit it off so fast but it felt natural. James was the love-struck one, with his hazel eyes and his messy black hair. Lily-pad, Lily-flower and so on, the poor girl must suffer from those awful nicknames. Remus was the ‘dad’; he was a bit more mature and poised but you could see the mischief in his soft caramel eyes. Peter was the little guy, blushing and being quieter than the others, but he was a Marauder after all. And then, it was Sirius. That guy didn’t know how to talk to a girl without flirting with her. His gray eyes would roam the girl’s body, he would be touchy as fuck when he wanted something, he would use cheesy pickup lines and he would always find a reason to pull off his shirt. He had a nice body, yes, you weren’t blind… you could see it. But it was ridiculous how many times he pulled that damn shirt off. In the brief week, you knew them, it must have been ten times already-and the week wasn’t over yet.  

It was official. Sirius Black was the biggest flirt you had ever known. The guy would flirt with you without hesitation, he would call you names, be touchy even clingy. And today was no exception. You were able to stroll around the castle without getting lost like the first weeks. After all, it was almost Christmas. You had to admit that Hogwarts was breathtaking covered in snow. Everything seemed so magical, so serene and so otherworldly. Ilvermorny might held your mind- your friends were there, your ex-boyfriend, your beloved teachers- but Hogwarts stole your heart. You had made more friends than you could believe. Lily was a Muggle-born, as they called them, but she was the brightest witch of her age and uncommonly kind. That last trait seemed to vanish every time James was around, though. She had admitted that she liked him a lot but she could never agree on a date if he was going to ask her three or more times a day. It was infuriating. You had helped James a lot and for that he was grateful. You had told him to leave her be for a while. It was tough for him and you couldn’t help but chuckle every time he opened his mouth only to close it again and walk away. Lily thought it was strange but she missed his crazy ways-and that’s when you played cupid and informed James. And they had the most romantic date ever. Not thanks to him but thanks to you and strangely enough, Sirius. He could be romantic when he wanted to. But that was a very rare sight to witness. Remus was probably the one you were closest with. He was so kind and sweet but he could be cocky and sarcastic that he could out throne Sirius himself. You had put two and two together relatively easy but you didn’t care. If anything, you wanted to help him in any way you could but you were going to let him tell you, whenever he felt like he could trust you enough to do so. You were in the Great Hall, eating breakfast-well, you were drinking a cappuccino(Dumbledore’s courtesy)- with Remus while you were waiting for the other three troublemakers to appear. It was a cold, breezy morning, but it felt so refreshing you didn’t mind wearing two jumpers. It was just a day before the full moon and he was worn out already but he had his nose stuck in a book, nevertheless. You placed a chocolate bar in front of him and he caught the action as he looked worriedly at you. “Eat. You’ll feel better, Moony” you said, emphasizing his nickname. He was smart and he got it immediately. A relaxed smile was plastered onto his lips as he understood that you weren’t going to go anywhere. “Hello, beautiful” a silky voice greeted you. You didn’t really want to admit it but you were smitten. You truly liked him. You liked his steely gray eyes, his aristocratic features, his tousled dark, long locks, his toned torso and his delicate hands. But most importantly, you liked the real him. Not the flirtatious, cocky jerk but the one you had the pleasure of meeting one very cold and lonely night. You couldn’t sleep and you were sitting by the common room’s fireplace. That night you had seen the real Sirius. The one behind the façade and the masks. The one who suffered the effects of insomnia because of his past, the one who was always too scared that he would lose his friends. That Sirius spoke to your heart. And you found yourself falling… hard. “Hello, handsome” you greeted back with a playful smile. That was just his thing. He would flirt with you but you never thought he meant it. Like, how could he? You had accepted the fact that you didn’t really stand a chance with him. He was out of your league. He could have any girl he wanted and of course, you weren’t one of them. He just played with you-not in a bad way, but still. It was just a game. You couldn’t resist, though. You had to play as well. He sat next to you, his hand resting on your knee and his mouth forming a devilish smirk. He kept his eyes fixed on you until you felt uncomfortable. “You’re staring” you commented, hoping that he will stop playing the damn game. “I’m gazing” he retorted nonchalantly, as he drew patterns with his fingers on your thigh. He had to stop. “It’s creepy” you tried to sound stern but you failed miserably. You smiled and shrugged it off as he whispered under his breath, something you couldn’t possibly believe you had heard correctly. “It’s romantic”. Yeah, you had probably heard wrong. You continued ignoring him and his flirty ways for a couple of hours. You had to give it to him. He had upped his game. Today, he was extra touchy, extra flirty, extra huggy, extra clingy, extra… You tried to make it to your next class in time, he had to carry your books. You tried to eat lunch, he had to pile up your plate. You had forgotten your quill, he had to give you his. Somebody tried to flirt with you, he had to smack your bum- that was the final hit. You were alone in the common room, as it was already after midnight, trying to study. James had fallen asleep holding Lily, Peter was all cuddly with Mary and Remus… well, Remus was actually studying. But you didn’t miss the side looks he was giving you.   When that guy had come up and told you that you looked very beautiful in that jumper, all hell had broken loose. Sirius marked you- yes, he did- as his when you weren’t and you didn’t even have a chance. Once the guy left and you were among friends, you snapped at him and scowled him, waking up the sleepy heads. “How thick can you get?” you questioned angrily but from the looks of it, he was a bit angrier. He stood up abruptly, while the rest of your friends were trying to pretend that they didn’t exist. “How thick can I get? How dense can you be?” he spat at you, his silver eyes twinkling with madness and… desperation? “You know what? Screw it! I don’t want to play your little games anymore, I am so done. I don’t like that you are making a fool out of me every time you are all flirty when you don’t mean it in the first place” you practically screamed at him. His cheeks were red with anger and his pupils dilatated. “You are crazy! You are insane if you think I just flirt with you so I can play. You are delusional if you believe that I am not absolutely infatuated with you and your American ways. You are just stupid if you think that I am playing. I am so fucking in love with you and it scares the shit out of me because I have never- EVER- fallen in love before and I have no idea how to deal with all those damn butterflies- YES, you gave me butterflies, and my stomach flips every time I see you and I-” You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close, crashing your lips to his with force. He finally shut it. His hands were wrapped around your waist immediately as he deepened the kiss, biting your bottom lip hard, demanding permission to explore your mouth. Exactly before a moan could escape your mouth, people were fake coughing to make you realize that you weren’t alone. You pulled apart but he didn’t let go. “So, you like my American ways?” you asked softly as you made eye contact with him. He smiled brightly yet seductively and he kissed your cheek. “I do. You know what else I like? Your sweet American ass” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, as his hands slipped down to your bum.  James laughed but Lily called him a perv. You just blushed but you couldn’t really believe that you had kissed him and that he had never played with you. He was being honest and he was showing you all the affection in the world. You had to make it up to him. “Maybe we can continue in my dorm?” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily, making you chuckle at his childish action, when three, big, fat, loud no’s were heard. You turned and witnessed three frightened faces looking at you with utter terror. You found yourself laughing along with Sirius and Lily. Yes, Hogwarts had stolen your heart for sure. And you couldn’t love it more

tags: @orionsirivsblack @kapolisradomthoughts @nadinissavage 

[bralef]

A lot happened this year at PortConMaine - mostly in the form of tabletop RPGs - so I decided to write all about them. This is basically just going to be a huge wall of text of me gushing about the fun I had doing tabletop RPGs for half a week.

Thursday was kind of a weak start. My uncle surprised me by taking me to the new Transformers movie. I appreciate the gesture, but it was not only terrible, but it made me late to PortCon. I’d have rather watched Wonder Woman again. As a result, I missed the DnD 5e session I was planning on attending, so I went with some Star Wars session instead. I played a Wookie Technician. Nothing particularly amazing or awesome happened, but it was fun and funny enough, I suppose. Then I played some weird Spy/Word-guessing game that takes way too long to understand. Me and the guy I teamed up with won both rounds. Finally, I played a few rounds of Lupinball, some (free?) game on Steam. One of those deceptively simple lightning-fast multiplayer games. It's pretty fun.

~~

Friday was great, exactly what I'd expect out of a good day at Portcon. I participated in three sessions, and will cover them in order from least exciting to most.

In between two better sessions was a Pathfinder campaign where we explored some haunted house. It only took a couple hours (I think that DM preferred multiple quick adventures rather than one big one) and ultimately was pretty boring. I played a half-orc Inquisitor. Nothing really noteworthy happened.

The last session I did was a DnD 5e session called the Sunless Citadel. I was a Dwarven Barbarian who I named Beerbeard McBeardbeer after a character in a long-term campaign I'm in (though I didn't roleplay him very similarly). What we were supposed to do was help these Kobolds rescue their baby god or something.

What ended up happening was, we convinced them to let us use their key to open some big important door. Someone touched a magic orb that forced everyone to make a Wisdom save or be feared, forcing them to run right into a pit (where they would take 1d6 fall damage, or half on a successful save). Beerbeard and one other party member passed immediately. The others, including the Kobold holding the key, all ran into the pit and took damage (keeping in mind this is Level 1 where the median health of everyone is like 9). One of them re-entered the room and passed his save that time. The other two kept running back into the room, failing the save, and chucking themselves into the pit again (Beerbeard watched). One of them, at one point, decided to kill the kobold (who had been knocked unconscious by the fall) and steal the key...for some reason. Finally we all made it past the Orb of Confusion and into the next room.

The next room was simply a riddle where the answer was “stars.” Nothing exciting there. The next two rooms were separated by a spiky pit. Our monk made it across and promptly got fucking manhandled by an imp. So, one of our other dudes jumps across. Beerbeard tried to join them, failed the check, and took 9 piercing damage (out of his 16 health). Another party member failed too, only she was way squisher so she immediately went down.

Beerbeard managed to carry the downed party member out of the pit...Right as the imp went invisible. Fuuuuuck. The next several turns consisted of us swinging at nothing and attempting to find the imp, who eventually went across the pit to fight our remaining party member who hadn't jumped across. He eventually managed to slay it, and we were left with a coffin that we were all pretty certain contained a boss. We were beaten to shit, our healer was out of spell slots, and two of us were at 1 HP, but we had already expended all of our (read: one) hit dice. There was nothing to do but try fighting the troll.

It killed us all.

The second session I played was a contender for the best one I played all week. I believe it was Shadowrun, or at least took place in the same universe/system, but was some kind of sequel or successor to it. One thing I really dug about the system is how on-the-fly and improvised everything is, even among tabletops. For example, once per session every player gets to declare a contact. It can be as specific and on-the-nose as you want. For example, if the party's mission is to infiltrate some facility, you can go, say, “Oh, a buddy of mine worked as a security guard there once, he might be able to hook us up with some floor plans or something.” Stuff like that. In addition to whatever explicit equipment you have, certain events or actions will give you “Intel” or “Gear,” which basically works in a similar manner. With gear, if you're in a tight spot, you can say “Oh, that gear I picked up earlier? That was a grappling hook. I'm going to use it to scale the building and get away.”

Anyway, I played an Adept, which is sort of like a cyberpunk monk. A cybermonk, if you will. (I didn't steal that from you JP, I thought it up too but let you say it since I was on a phone and figured you'd pick up on it without my input). Taking inspiration from the recommended suggestions for my character, I made him a wrestler named Red Rooster. “He sounds like a luchador.” ...Well, I did make him hispanic, so yeah, that works! One of my party members was a huge fan of Red Rooster, and another party member, who was a hacker, used Red Rooster’s mask as his online hacking avatar.

We were also told to create fictional facilities in the universe that would be relevant to the session. I came up with Koala Tea, a restaurant chain. I decided that Red Rooster is basically their mascot, and thus all of his moves are named after items from their menu.

We were tasked with stopping a facility from releasing a mind-control potion onto the market. We decided to do this by blowing up their manufacturing facility. Along with Red Rooster (real name Carlito Diez), we had Tuck, a human hacker; Dominic, a shaman who was capable of communing with the spirit world and its inhabitants; and Devontus Grimlore, a troll-kin hired killer who preferred brute force. In our backstory, Devontus once broke into a Koala Tea establishment and, very publically and conspicuously, removed an official's mechanical endoskeleton from his body. Forcefully. This resulted in a huge brawl between him and Red Rooster, that evidently resulted in them becoming friends.

Dominic declared his contact: Siri, spirit of smart phones and information. She gave him a general map of the building and allowed him to open a window of opportunity for us to infiltrate. Unfortunately this also garnered the attention of Clippy, an obnoxious spirit who constantly annoys Dominic and suggests inappropriate solutions to problems.

We entered the facility using automated trucks that Tuck had hacked into. When we got in, we opened the doors, and Red Rooster blasted into the room on his flashy motorcycle while Devontus pulled out a piece of gear he had gathered earlier: A minigun.

Devontus is gunning down machines and personnel alike, while Red Rooster holds off the guards by driving his motorcycle into them and leaping off with a Koala Slider™ Tackle. Shrapnel from a stray gunshot cost Red Rooster one of his eyes, and Devontus gets his arm caught in some industrial machinery (he's a troll, he'll be fine). I realized that he was the only one who hadn't used his contact yet, so I decided a particular guard looked very familiar, even without his signature mask on...Red Rooster's rival, former mascot of Kangaroo Coffee...Blue Bull.

“What are you doing here, Blue Bull?! Dressed in that uniform and using a gun, guarding such a dishonorable facility! What happened to you?”

“YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE WHAT'S DISHONORABLE FOR ME RED ROOSTER RAAAAAAA” cue the fight, which I planned on winning to show Blue Bull the error of his ways, making him help us in destroying the facility.

I rolled the minimum roll possible, so Red Rooster got his ass kicked. He went in for a Koala BBQ Rib™crusher, but Blue Bull countered with an Atomic Coffee™ Suplex. So he didn't help us...But we still destroyed it, and got away thanks to Dominic timing the mission beforehand so that we simply needed to board one of the automated trucks that was leaving.

We completed the mission, and all we needed to do was get paid. We rolled to see whether there were any complications with the payment. Turns out we were set up, by what was heavily implied to be an elder god. Multiple incarnations of Clippy suddenly appeared and we tried to fight them off. Dominic cast an anti-clippy talisman he had explicitly gained earlier, which vaporized them and caused a dark void to appear, no doubt leading to the one who had set us up. We had to decide whether to stay and fight and probably die, or run. Devontus was up for a fight. As for the rest of us:

Me: I have “Code of Honor” and “Pride” as two of my character traits. Red Rooster literally can't turn away from this fight.

Dominic: [turns to Tuck] Remember us! Tell our story!

Tuck's player: You're assuming I'm still there.

Tuck: [already long gone]

The session ended with the three of us remaining turning to the void and leaping into whatever mysterious adventure it held in store for us. End Credits.

~~

Saturday was a weird coincidence. I played three sessions, and my character in all three of them was associated with dragons.

The 5e session I planned on attending was full, so I went with a 3.5e session instead, where I played a Half-Elf Dragon Shaman. The DM seemed pretty new at the whole thing, as there was very little actual roleplaying and it was basically just filler to get us from fight to fight. Early on I was really bored and tired to the point where I considered making an excuse to leave. I stuck with it, though, and by the end we had had a few fun moments, more from just joking around than the actual session. At one point our dwarf clobbered a sleeping red dragon with his axe...and it failed to notice or wake up.

The DM from the Sunless Citadel session was running the same campaign again, so I decided to join in again and see if we'd be more successful this time. He gave us all potions to help in that regard. This time I was playing a Dragonborn Fighter named Lamarr, and this time we actually went ahead with the plot instead of taking a detour to an optional boss. We agreed to help the kobolds find their dragon baby god. One complication was the fact that we had a goblin rogue on our team – the goblins stole the baby god, so the kobolds hated them. We managed to assure them he was on our (and thus, their) side, so the baby god's caretaker (Meebo) escorted us into Goblin territory. After fighting a big mama rat and her children (made a lot easier by our bard Tom casting a Sleep spell) we stepped into a hallway filled with caltrops. Our half-elf tried pushing them out of the way but somehow impaled herself and fell unconscious. We then got shot at by some Goblins at the other end of the hall, but our own goblin was all “Hey! What are you doing?” and managed to convince them he was working for some big goblin boss. He was mentioning that he'd want to work out a trade for the baby god, when Meebo saw this and went “TRAAAITOOOOR!” He ran back to the other kobolds, who turned their weapons on Tom, assuming we were secretly working for the goblins. He managed to convince them that Meebo was simply being paranoid and that we were being slick by tricking the goblins. We basically had a pass with both factions, and that’s where the session ended.

Finally, was a session where we were all dragons. Actual, literal dragons. Young ones, who had been kept in a cryptid circus and used for entertainment by evil witch bitch Magna. My character was Bar, a clawed dragon who was capable of digging. I don't think I ever actually used digging to our advantage. Highlights include:

The one diplomat dragon we had convincing five axe-juggling dwarf brothers to stop fighting us and actually help us escape.

Phantasmapotomas, a dancing hippo who existed as an excuse for the DM to sing songs relevant to whatever situation was at hand.

“I want to take him out nonlethally. [crit fail]” DM: Whoops, his head popped off!

Blue Dragon tackling the “caretaker” that abused us for years. He survived, but it was heavily implied his spine was severed and that he was paralyzed.

A riddle door who required three questions: What is your name, what is your mission, and [insert randomly-generated difficult trivia question]?

Diplomat dragon's response: 1. [Name]. 2. “To escape this hellhole.” 3. “Wait, WHICH capital? There's four of th- *launched into the sky*”

Arrogant Dragon's response: 1. [Name] 2. “To escape this place.” 3. “A number.” *launched into the sky*”

The Dwarven brothers' response: 1. [hacks door into pieces with axe] 2. [eats piece of door] Huh, gingerbread! (“It's a durable, reliable building material!”) 3. Now THAT'S how you get past a riddle door! [steals Magda's paybox]

The DM talking/responding out of character in Magda's voice/in character, implying she had metagame knowledge.

Magda attempting to turn four of us into newts in turn, and all four of us crit failing the save while Diplomat Dragon was being attacked by clown ghouls.

Us freeing all of the cryptids except the mermaids, because letting them out would kill them and dumping them into the local rivers would wreak havoc on the ecosytem. As one player described them, they were basically Dire Piranhas.

Ultimately we succeeded, and in fact we got straight to the point quicker than the DM planned. This is the same DM who hosted Werewolf Wrestling Federation vs the Vampire Women (one of the most fun sessions I’ve ever played), and when I mentioned that to him he said that, just because I asked, he'd make another session of that happen next year. Woo!

~~

On Sunday I killed some time by playing a few quick scenarios with the same Pathfinder DM, where I played a Cavalier named Alain (horse named Dalahan I think). First we stormed a haunted estate and killed some bugs and a weird ghoul thing. He wielded a severed leg as a weapon, and there was a corpse with only one leg in the corner. Here's a few quotes from the session:

“Can I take the leg?” “You can take the leg.” “I take the leg.”

“I give him his leg back.”

“No wait, I changed my mind, I need it.”

There was a well in the middle of the room with like a million more ghoul things, one of which was climbing up. I jabbed down into the well with my lance, and got a nat 20.

“You see Alain plunging into the well with his lance, blood and gore spewing out.”

“It's like a satanic toilet.”

It was a very short session, but that's good because it ended right when the conclusion of the Sunless Citadel started.

We only had three returning party members (including me), and three new ones. Our goblin rogue was taken over by the DM for diplomatic purposes, as were Tom and one other character. Tom managed to gain audience with the goblin boss (actually a Hobgoblin), and several slaves (read: the players new to this session) were brought out to be used as footstools. Aurelia, our Paladin, tried sneaking food to one of them, but was noticed. A flying mug and a shout of “NO FEEDING THE PRISONERS” let us know how the goblins felt about that. Our Cleric distracted them with dancing long enough for Tom to pick the locks on their manacles. One of them (a Tiefling Wizard whose first name was Freedom) cast a cantrip to make one of the doors fly open to try and cause a distraction, but was noticed, causing the goblins to realize we had set them free. Commence fight.

We were holding our own, but eventually a small goblin woman who had been kneeling in the corner stood up on the throne and declared she was the ruler of the goblins now. This caused the hobgoblins and goblins to fight amongst themselves. Eventually we helped her take down the king and his lackeys. As thanks, she freed the slaves: Freedom; a Dragonborn Monk named Roger; and a Warlock who I think was a halfling. They joined us, and we went upstairs to try and find the baby god: According to them, they lost at least one goblin per day to the thing, so were more than happy to let us take him off their hands.

Tipped off by a goblin’s screaming and severed arm launched from a doorway, we found the baby god. He then unleashed frost breath and knocked down Lamarr and the Cleric, before finishing off Roger with a claw. Aurelia managed to drag Lamarr out, and eventually we got everyone out alive and healed up, after sealing the door shut. Concluding that this dragon was far beyond our capacity at the moment, we instead opted to go after our second goal: finding the source of some magical fruit that can cure any ailment.

We went down a well in the goblin throne room, and were attacked by some twig things (who were easily dispatched) and shovel-wielding skeletons. The skeletons were tougher, but Lamarr knocked one’s head off with a nat 20. We then fought a Bugbear and his pet rats (one of which was named Fang).

Eventually we tied up a second Bugbear (I think her name was Helga) and had her lead us to Bellack, the magician behind the mystical fruit tree. He revealed he was basically mind controlling two previous adventurers as slaves.

Bellack: You have two options: Leave this place, or become my slaves. It is too late to save these two.

Lamarr: But not too late to avenge them.

Aurelia: We won’t be your slaves!

Lamarr: And we’re not leaving, either.

Cue the final boss fight...Which I immediately had to leave because I had a bus to catch. What an anticlimactic end to a great campaign, right?

Fortunately, at my request, the person playing Aurelia actually Emailed me the results of the fight and how the campaign ended:

“So the good news is that we didn't die. You and Roger used your fire breath to burn up the evil tree and we took down Bellack- however after burning the tree freed Sir Bradford and Sharlin from the spell, Bellack's death caused them to either and die. We did try to heal them, but the magic was beyond us. The big tree was in a grove of saplings and we decided to torch the whole grove as the trees were just too powerful. We took the bodies of Sharlin and Sir Bradford back to Oakhurst for proper burial- Sharlin to her family and Sir Bradford to the temple of Pelor. And that's where we ended it. Our entire party did make it out in the end- though (as I'm sure you can imagine) not without more struggling to keep the cleric in check.”

Thanks, Abby. You’re a lifesaver. A perfect way to end the campaign, as well as Portconmaine 2017. This was a great year, and I hope to have an even better one next year!

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 43 - Exes, camp fires and big mouths (Part One)

In the previous chapter:

Meg and Angie are at the diner, at the end of their night shift, together with Grace, who’s sipping a hot chocolate as she’s being given advice on what to do with Stone. Lupus in fabula, Stone and the Mookie guys minus Eddie come to Roxy’s to eat and say their singer has stayed alone at the Potatohead gallery to work on a few songs. Angie secretly pays a quick visit to Eddie, with the pretext of bringing him food and coffee, and he reacts in a weird way. The following day Angie’s dad shows up at the girls’, earlier than expected. Angie proudly shows him her apartment, Ray’s not that enthusiast about it because it’s rather small and in poor condition, but he appreciates the fact his daughter seems to be living a nice and independent life in Seattle. He misses her though. In Angie’s room he finds the little collage board Eddie gave to her as a present, he’s surprised because it has Angie’s polaroids on and she’s always despised having pictures taken. Ray has a photo session with the Seahawks to do and they agree to meet later in the evening at the RKCNDY club together with their friends. Shortly before the beginning of the concert, Jerry’s at the club too, even though he knows Angie’s gonna be there too. Well, that’s the reason he’s there anyway. A guy tries to make small talk with him at the bar, he’s not feeling talkative at the beginning, but he ends up telling him everything about himself and the mess he made with Angie, without actually mentioning her name, spicy details included. As Angie and her friends get to the venue, he finally finds out the terrible truth: the guy he’s been talking to at the bar is his ex girlfriend’s dad.

***

“Oh shit, finally!” Jeff jumps off the hood of Laura’s car as soon as he sees her getting out of her apartment and going down the short flight of stairs “Hurry up, we’re already late”

“Good evening to you too, my love! Listen, where did all that sweetness you brought out the other night for our anniversary go? Did you burn it all at once?” the girl complains as she walks up to Jeff and rather reluctantly pecks him on the lips.

“What? No, no my love, it’s just, well, fifteen minutes ago you said you were coming and…”

“And…?”

“And Eddie and I are here waiting in the cold and ice, you could at least have thrown us the car keys… darling!”

“Eddie’s not complaining” she remarks looking at me and taking the just mentioned keys from her bag, then clinking them right before her boyfriend’s nose, but keeping them tight.

“Actually’s not even been fifteen minutes, much less” I point out and Jeff gives me a nasty look.

“Yeah, sure… he says so because he doesn’t want to offend you”

“Anyway I had to finish getting ready, so what?” Laura opens the car and takes the driver’s seat.

“But baby, you’re already beautiful and amazing, you surely don’t need so much time to get ready, that’s why I was surprised” Jeff’s scene doesn’t convice Laura, who bursts out laughing at his face before closing the car door on her side.

“Come on, baby, stop being an asshole and get up! Weren’t you in a hurry?”

Jeff immediatly does as she commanded and takes the seat on the front, next to Laura, while I sit in the back.

“I speak for Eddie, not for me. He’s the one who can’t wait to get to RKCNDY, right?” Jeff winks at me, but I’ve learned to ignore him.

“I just wanna get there before the show begins” I shrug as Laura starts the car and leaves.

That’s not true for shit, of course. It’s unusual for me, I know, but this time I don’t give an actual fuck about the show. I respect the band and have been told the Inspector guys are good and also funny, that they interact a lot with the audience, and so on. But really, I don’t give a fuck. Basically I’m going because Angie’s there and by now I don’t even waste time inventing excuses to tell myself not to admit I wanna see her. See her, then what? What do I do? What do I tell her? I’m so confused right now and it’s not just my fault, after all she’s got something to do with this mess too, she keeps sending fucking ambiguous signals. I mean, after I tried to ask her out with disastrous results I had basically given up and resigned myself to being turned down, and decided I should stay away from her for a while, also considering that I’ve been following her around since we came back from Canada. Well, resigned is a big word, say I was trying to focus on music and erase all the waves, scents, oceans with her name, looks, mermaids and any other thing that could remind me of her from my writing. And right when I was actually managing to do that, what did Angie do? She appeared in front of me, out of nowhere, with her smile, her raspy and charming voice, her inquiring eyes on me, so sweetly sharp at times that I almost feel naked and have the impression that she, I don’t know, likes me? But then I hugged her and she didn’t turn a hair, while I was getting drunk with her scent, which is both different every time and always the same. I was holding her and I swear my knees were shaking because I felt overwhelmed by all that peace and warmth and it was like I couldn’t fully embrace her, like I wasn’t able to hold and keep in my arms all that she could give me, like it was too much all at once. And I thought that if I had told her something like that she would have thought I was crazy, or high, or both, or she would have used her usual fucking self deprecation saying something about being too big to be hugged or shit like that, but I’d have shut her up with a greedy and euphoric kiss. And she’d have reacted with one of her infamous slaps full on my face or she’d have clinged to me and reciprocated the kiss twice as intensely and we’d have ended up rolling on that poor excuse for a couch at the gallery without really understanding how we got there. Or maybe she’d have kept it cool and then given me a side look and, with her diagonal smile, she’d have argued that shutting a woman’s mouth with a kiss is the most sexist and stereotypical thing a man’s mind can come up with and at that point I’d have definitely waved white flag and given in, and declaring myself officially hers I’d have got completely naked on the spot and told her she could do anything she wanted to me. None of that happened though and the mere fact I’m daydreaming about this and all the possible scenarios, as ridiculous as plausible, is enough for me to realise I’m not losing my mind for Angie, nah, I already lost it and there’s nothing I can do about it.

We’ve already got to the club and I didn’t really notice, I must have been no great company during the car ride, but Jeff and Laura don’t seem to mind. The line outside is basically non existing and it takes us five minutes to get in. Inside the club our eyes are busy scanning the people around looking for our friends and our ears are busy listening to the end of a song by Primus. Laura walks away almost immediately to say hi to a couple of girls who are calling her and takes Jeff with her, whereas I gesture something along the line of see ya later and walk around the room, hoping to find  what I’m looking for. And it doesn’t take long because as the song ends, as if it was a previously arranged scene, among the many unknown faces, there I spot it, the only one I’m really interested in: Angie, down on the left, standing beside a column, chatting and laughing with Meg, dressed in black, a tracksuit I guess, different make up on her eyes, black with something reddish, or purple, I can’t say it, her hand brushing a lock of hair away from her face and then indulging a little more in drowning the fingertips into the soft mane. Actually, I don’t know if she’s actually indulging in the movement or it’s just me seeing everything at half speed like in a boring romantic scene of a b movie about teenagers, when the main male character sees the girl of his dreams and goes in raptures and right then the ultimate love song starts like, I don’t know, True by Spandau Ballet, and she shakes her head and her hair move in slow motion and a single spotlight is on her and the rest of the world stops being important or maybe, as far as he knows, even stops existing. The problem is the scene goes on exactly like that, except for the song, which in my case it’s the cover version of Love me made by The Cramps and if possible it’s even more appropriate. Surely, Lux’s screams are more suited to my mood. Now Meg’s talking, while Angie listens and nods and has an interested expression on her face, then she looks in disbelief, then confused and then I lose count of the whole spectrum of emotions I see passing on that face, which must be relaxed and comfortable and doesn’t feel the need to hide anything from her friend, so it shows itself for what it is, naturally expressive. I like her like this, with no apparent protection shield, no masks, no filters. I wish she was like this with me too, and maybe she really is sometimes. No, the truth is I wish she was like this with me only, that’s a completely different thing. The former eventuality is discarded, it’s literally shattered in a few seconds thanks to a quick gesture by… by whom? Who the fuck is that? A guy with long hair and moustache who must be as old as Angie and Meg put together, he comes out from behind the column with two glasses in his hands, creeps behind the girls’s shoulders scaring them as a joke. Angela yells at him and laughs and takes one of the glasses from the stranger, who puts his arm around her shoulders and kisses her temple, just like that, as if it was nothing, as she lets him. SHE LETS HIM DO IT AND SMILES. Meg says something to them then walks away, leaving them alone. Are you kidding me? Slow motion and Tony Hadley’s voice stopped, now speed is back to normal, no, things just sped up considering I’m basically running towards Angie and the old pig. Has he just met her? Does he already know her? Maybe it’s one of her professors. I don’t have time to make other assumptions, I’m already a few feet from them, Angie sees me and as we make eye contact she calls my name and gestures for me to get closer, I smile and for a moment I forget what my previous intentions were. The face of the asshole who quickly turns around to acknowledge me soon takes me back to reality.

“You know, the first time I saw them they were opening for The Police, I’m talking about the Outlandos d'amour tour, so 1977 or ‘78. If I do remember right, I guess they were the first Cramps concerts ever, at least the first ones outside the US” I heard him say when I’m closer.

“Lucky you!”

“Oh well, they’re still around, you know? You can see them whenever you want”

“Yeah, but you saw them in the early days!” Angie says with admiration in her voice.

“Well, it’s easier when you’re elderly. Hi Angie!” I chime in like that, brutally and with no introduction whatsoever.

“Eddie!” she exclaims and looks at me as if I had just yelled some blasphemy in a church.

“Hehe that’s true, your friend’s right, being born in the 40s is the best thing ever happened to me, especially for my job. Anyway, as someone said, it’s all relative, each and every generation has its own hymns and myths: maybe the Zeppelin or the Sabbath of the future are performing in clubs like this one right now” the guy doesn’t bat an eyelid and goes on playing the part of the cool phylosophycal guy. For his job? Does he work in the music world? Or is it just what he tells girls to take them to bed?

“Can I have a sip? My mouth is super dry” I ask Angie and literally tear the glass away from her hand before getting an answer.

“Ok… but it’s just plain coke, nothing else” she explains even more perplexed.

“I really hope so,” I grumble to myself, but loud enough for the other two to hear, as I take the glass to my lips and smell the content in the meantime, before drinking some “you never know”

“Wow, I had no idea you had such scrupulous friends! They even check if you’re drinking alcohol” the moustache giggles and sips his beer.

“We always check anything, and anyone” I add as I drink some more coke. Seems ok.

“Since when?” Angie gives suspicious looks alternatively to me and the old man.

“By the way, we haven’t been introduced yet, I’m-” the guy takes the beer with his left hand and holds out his right one for me to shake and I can’t refuse.

“You’re someone who’s probably twice as old as her” I end his sentence with a broad smile on my face, as I vigorously shake his hand.

“EDDIE, WHAT THE FUCK?!” Angie’s face turns crimson all of a sudden and well, yeah, I know, I know she can defend herself and doesn’t particularly like this whole big brother attitude from Stone and Jeff, but I can’t just stand here not doing anything while this dirty jerk’s hitting on her.

“Well, actually more than twice, I told you I was born in the 40s, didn’t I? Maths is still indisputable, isn’t it?” I mean, the guy has the temper to joke? He has guts, I must admit it.

“I can count, you know, unlike someone who doesn’t understand he’s a little too old for an 18 year old girl” I drink some more coke, actually the glass is half empty when I give it back to Angie, who takes it without even looking at me. Is she embarrassed? Or mad? Well in that case she’s overreacting honestly.

“Oh god, well, too old, uhm, I wouldn’t say I’m too old. I think I’m the right age, I’ve always wanted a family, but not too soon”

“So you want to settle down with a young girl and have a family now that you’re aged?”

“Eddie, stop it, don’t you understand he’s-” Angie shakes her head and nervously laughs, but she’s interrupted by the guy.

“No, Angie, I think he doesn’t understand. I think I’m the right age, neither too young nor too old. A healthy age gap is very important, Eddie. If you’re young, girls won’t take you seriously and consider you just like one of their friends, whereas if you’re too old they’ll take advantage of you and have you pamper them, and most of all they’ll fool you right under your nose. You need balance” the man with moustache goes on, without hesitation. By the way, now that I look at him, he reminds me of someone… but who?

“This. This is… the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” I retort folding my arms, probably as to prevent myself from punching him.

“Because you’re not a father yet, when and if you become a dad you’ll understand what it means, especially if you have daughters” he says and places one hand on my shoulder.

“What do you mean? It’s got nothing to do with-”

“It has because this is my dad, Eddie, MY DAD”

“Your… huh?” suddenly my hands are not itching to choke the life out of that man anymore, I’m suddenly hit by another wish: the desire to be immediately swallowed into the bowels of the earth and never come back.

“Ray Pacifico, nice to meet you!” the guy… well, ehm, Angie’s father holds out his hand towards me again and I give him mine, limp, as I watch him dazed.

“Mr… uhm, Mr Pacifico, I… I’m so sorry, I had no idea you-”

“Please, call me Ray, or you’re gonna make me feel old for real” Ray winks at me and I nod without saying one word, without even breathing I think, knowing that one minute ago I basically told the father of the girl I have a crush on that he was an old molester hitting on young girls.

“Nice to meet you Ray, I’m Jeff, a friend of Angie’s, one of the normal ones though” the bassist appears behind my back. How long has he been there?

“Hehe come on, poor Eddie, how could he know?” Ray tries to excuse me and I know deep inside he’s thinking I’m a loser.

“How could he? Angie wouldn’t stop talking about you and the fact you were coming to Seattle! Everybody knows, I think even the mayor knows” Laura jokes and Angie sticks her tongue out at her.

“Yeah, actually… well, yeah, I knew that, it’s just… I temporarily forgot it” I’m clutching at straws but in the end it’s just the simple truth: I knew Angie’s dad would have been her tonight, I just didn’t make the connection the moment I saw him with her.

“Say the protective instinct prevailed over reason. We’re used at being watchdogs, you know, with all the dirty people around and shit” Jeff gives me a heavy double pat on the back and as I yelp I forget my will for oblivion for a moment.

“Oh so you’re regularly being hit on by old men?” an amused Ray asks his daughter.

“Jeff meant in general” she sulks.

“Now I see why they were all so enthusiast about your volunteer job at the retirement home!”

“Ha-ha” Angie looks down embarrassed, then looks up again and her eyes are on me, eyes of pity.

“Sorry” I mouth to her, while Jeff and Ray keep not so subtly making fun of both Angie and I.

She shakes her head and half smiles, the usual small tooth briefly peeking out from the corner of her mouth then immediately disappearing behind her timid and soft to devour lips and that’s exactly where I’d run to hide right now, or simply to rest, if only I could.

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

“And right then I found out she was Meg’s new roommate” Chris cockily ends his story, the one I know by heart, the poor figure I could tell even if I hadn’t experience it first hand when I got to my new apartment.

“Hehe so you two are my daughter’s neighbors” my dad points at Cornell and Gossard and he does it so nonchalantly I’d almost swear he didn’t do it on purpose.

“No, he lives with Matt,” Stone explains pointing at the drummer “I live by myself”

“He’s still at home with his parents” Jeff remarks with a fake smile.

“I’m not with my parents, I have my own apartment”

“Which is also your parent’s attic”

“It’s an attic, but it’s a detached apartment”

“And your parents downstairs”

“But they’re two separated and independent apartments, Jeff, just stop it”

“Which happen to become a little less separated at lunch and dinner time”

“SEPARATED AND INDEPENDENT!”

My father enjoys the Stone and Jeff show, we’re maybe so used to that we don’t even notice. For a moment I try to detatch myself from the situation and observe it from the outside and I realise the guys are doing their best, or worst, it depends on how you look at it. I mean, Chris delighting us with slices of his life, Jeff and Stone picking on each other, sweet Mikey playing dumb and make the usual couple of ambiguous remarks about Meg, Kim who says a couple of words and ends up monopolizing the conversation, Eddie not opening his mouth, Dave drinking beer like there’s no tomorrow: each one of them is, or looks like, his own stereotype, everyone reproduces the topoi and the style elements that belong to them, just like the characters of a sitcom do in the first episode, to introduce themselves to the audience, to give the watchers the whole picture. In this case, my father can’t really complain, they’re all doing their best to give him an overall view of our existence.

“Oh well, personally I don’t even take such things into account, I’ve met school kids who’re still with their parents but already are perfectly self-reliant and grown up adults who live by themselves but have their moms or girlfriends come and clean their house, so I don’t really think it’s a matter of the physical place you live in, rather than the mental place you reach as you grow”

“Jeff has Eddie now, he doesn’t need his mom” Stone remarks after finishing his beer.

“What does it mean? That you’re good at doing the chores?” dad asks Eddie, figuring out it must be some kind of recurring joke.

“Err… well, yeah, I try… I mean… been living on my own for ten years” Eddie stutters something without even looking at Ray’s face and that doesn’t surprise me, considering the poor figure he made earlier. How the hell did he forget? How didn’t he understand it was my father? Everybody says we look alike, despite everything…

“Great! My girl here is a model of independence too, Janis and I tried hard to pamper her, but we failed miserably, didn’t we Angelina?” dad circles my shoulders with his arm and my blood istantly turns into ice.

“Aaaaaaw, Angelina, what a sweet nickname!” Laura cheers with her heart-shaped eyes, playing the part of her lovely self perfectly too. Too bad she’s the unknowing cause of a disaster.

“Oh but that’s not a-” dad starts answering and I even try to stop him.

“That’s not sweet, it’s just ugly, let’s just go with Angie, ok?” but it’s pointless.

“It’s her name by the way, not a nickname” and there blows the first bomb dropped by my father.

“Excuse me?” Stone and his arched eyebrow are the first to react and I had no doubt about it.

“Angelina, that’s her name”

“ANGELINA?!” Jeff, as loyal as the others to his character, yells and chokes on the peanuts he was crunching on at the bar.

“Angelina like 'Angelina… waitress at the pizzeria’?” Chris chuckles.

“I thought your name was Angela, Angie for friends” Mike is the most calm of them all, together with Eddie, who just sports a smile that’s half incredulous and sorry.

“Your such idiot! Don’t you understand he’s just kidding? He’s just making fun of her, aren’t you Ray?” Meg shakes her head and addresses my father, who’s about to disappoint her.

“No no, I’m not kidding! It’s her name, I know that because, well, I gave it to her” dad shrugs and I don’t need to look at Meg to know she’s drilling a hole into my skull with a homicidal look.

“WHAT?”

“Meg…”

“Six months. No, more… We’ve known each other for more than six months and you never told me your name?!”

“As you can imagine, it ain’t something I easily tell people, for obvious reasons”

“What do you mean? Angelina is a beautiful name, it’s my mother’s name, that is your grandma's” my dad looks at me pretending to be offended, but I can’t help feeling a little guilty, even though I know he’s just faking.

“Yeah, it’s a nice name, it’s just… a little old fashioned”

“That’s just better, it’s more rare, so more unique”

“And a little… you know, sounds very Italian”

“So what?” dad’s jaw contracts and he strikes me with his typical narrow and fake happy look he gives when he’s irritated.

“So… nothing, it’s very typical and-”

“What’s wrong with it being Italian? I’m Italian, you’re Italian, our family is half Italian, is there something wrong with that?”

“No! Not at a-”

“Do you have something against Italian people?” dad addresses the whole gang and they’re smart enough to understand the quickest is the answer the better.

“No!”

“For fuck’s sake, no!”

“Come on!”

“Not at all!”

It’s all a big chorus of denial, then Mike follows trying to deliver a more articulated speech, based on the premise that working at a pizzeria puts him surely on top of the chart of those in our group who love Italy.

“I can’t see why you’re suddenly ashamed of your origins…”

“I’m not! It’s just a kinda old fashioned name, an old lady name, regardless the geographical origin of the old lady”

“We’re not given names when we’re old though, Angie, old ladies called Angelina, like your grandma, were children too and quietly and happily lived with that name without complaining” daddy explains picking up a potato chip from another bowl on the bar counter and taking it close to my lips, not backing up until I give up and open my mouth to eat it.

“I’d happily live with it too, if only you didn’t tell everybody”

“Heheh oh shut up, come on, nothing changes for you, your friends will keep calling you Angie”

“Are you joking? Stone’ll be calling me Angelina for the rest of my life”

“You mean, for the rest of his life…” dad answers a second before Stone opens his mouth. The guitarist must be so irritated.

“Hahahaha that was funny!” Jeff high fives Ray, who obviously took only a few minutes to become my friends’ new best friend. Unlike me.

“Anyway, I thought you used other kinds of pet names for each other” he adds with one of his fucking winks.

“Shut up, dad! Well, now that you’re here you can hear it directly from him that he’s not my boyfriend, so you’ll just stop once and for all. Tell him Stone”

Gossard looks at me dumbfounded, than looks at my father, takes a deep breath and…

“Well, so… ok… wow… I mean, you could have come up with a more discreet way to break up with me, Angelina, don’t you think?” the dork replies.

“Stone” everybody laughs, dad included.

“And also, a better moment maybe?” he continues between fits of laughter.

“Fuck you, Stone” despite all this I think my dad finally realised that nothing’s going on between that idiot who’s holding his belly as he’s almost suffocating from laughter and I.

“I think it’s cute” on the end of a little laugh, Eddie says I think the first complete sentence since my dad shook his hand. This said, I have no clue what he wants to say.

“What?” Dave gives voice to my inner question.

“Angelina, it’s a cute name”

“What do you mean cute?! It’s a riot girl name” I sarcastically retort, raising my fist in the air.

“It’s a total babe’s name”

“Yeah sure…”

“Why? Can’t it be? A name is just a name, it becomes a badass name or a loser name depending on who has it”

“Exactly, consider that I have it”

“And culture and trends play a role too. A famous personality called in a certain way can change the perspective on any name” my roommate goes on ignoring my comment.

“Well, it depends”

“What about Banana? Stupid name in theory, I mean, it’s not even a name. But Yoshimoto turned it into a name, a badass name I add”

“Ok, but that’s not her actual name, it’s a pen name she chose because she thought it was easier to prononuce than her Japanese name, also because the words basically the same in every language. And she didn’t want readers to immediately understand if the writer was a man or a woman” I retort as I notice everybody’s listening to our dialogue in sacred silence.

“Fine. What about Dustin? Do you think Dustin is a hot name if you separate it from Hoffman’s image?”

“Well, it’s not bad per se”

“What about Wynona then? And Bo? Elton? Cool names from the beginning, right…”

“I’m pretty sure at least two of them are stage names, Meg”

“Well, fuck that, it’s the principle!”

“Meg’s right. You just have to wait until an actress or a model or any super hot girl called Angelina gets into the spotlight and grabs the public’s attention and you’ll immediately gain a few points” Chris chimes in, nodding at his own words.

“Pff very likely to happen”

“That wasn’t exactly what I meant, but…” Meg murmurs.

“And this is when I was supposed to say something like 'But no, why? Why should we wait for another? We already got you and you’re amazing blah blah’ but considering that you broke up with me five minutes ago…” Gossard shrugs and even my father can’t help laughing for his fucking sense of humor. Why doesn’t he take Stone as a boyfriend?

“And this is the first benefit I get from breaking up with you”

**

Luckily I stop being the subject of the conversation and at some point our group splits up and spreads all around the club: Susan arrives and she and Chris go away somewhere, Jeff goes backstage with Stone and Kim, my father wanders about taking pictures, Dave and Matt are deep into drummers conversation, but I don’t really know if it’s about drumming or not because I’m kinda far from them, still at the bar, with Laura, Eddie, Mike and Meg.

“Anyway, I agree with you about your name theory. For example, the name Meg didn’t mean anything before, but after I met you… bam, Meg is beauty par excellence” Mike comes up with this from out of nowhere, as we were talking about something else, leaving my friend quite perplexed, and not just her. And maybe that’s the reason why Laura walks away after a while, saying that she wanted to search for her boyfriend. At this point it’s just Eddie and I third wheeling.

“Hey, the concert’s about to start soon, why don’t we… start to… go that way, to see it?” I talk to Eddie and point towards the stage, he immediately accepts and follows me as I walk in that direction, and I don’t know if Mike notices we left, Meg surely does because she gives me a scolding look. The situation’s weird, but I know Meg and even though she’s trying to play it cool, she clearly doesn’t mind this kind of attention from him, I think she even likes it. But Melanie? Where’s she in this? I only hope nobody gets hurt, especially Meg of course because, well, she’s a friend of mine.

“Do you understand what’s going on between those two?” I ask Eddie when we’re far enough.

“Who? Mike and Meg? Honestly I have no clue” he answers, apparently surprised by the question.

“Neither do I”

“I only hope nobody gets hurt, not too much at least, you know” he goes on and it’s the very same thought I had a few moments ago and these pseudo-mindreading coincidences always make me smile.

“Yep” I rummage in my new bag looking for a kleenex since, guess what, I’ve got another cold. It must be the tenth cold since I moved here.

“Nice bag” Eddie points at my little camera-shaped bag.

“Hehe Ray discovered Pike Place Market today and bought it for me, as you can see my family’s quite monothematic”

“By the way, I’m sorry for what happened before, I’m such an idiot…” Eddie moves a rebel strand of hair away from his forehead and I honestly would have left that right there because it was just perfect in its being out of place.

“You don’t have to apologise to me, maybe with my dad, but you already did I think. And he took five seconds to forgive you anyway, so don’t worry”

“Ok, but I made you uncomfortable in front of him…”

“No problem, you weren’t the only one tonight anyway”

“Hehe do you think he realised Stone’s not your boyfriend?” he snickers and I’m not sure wether I should let him believe I was referring to Stone or tell him about Jerry befriending my father. I go with the first option, also because I don’t even wanna think about that jerk.

“I think he knows now. And Stone knows he knows. But they both love torturing me so much they won’t stop any soon”

“Well, I apologise all the same”

“I accept your apologies”

“And I apologise for last night too, sorry if I was… weird”

“I had already accepted those apologies last night”

“Yes, but when I apologised I was still in the middle of being weird to you, so that didn’t actually count, at least didn’t count 100%”

“You were weird? 'Cause now you think you’re normal?” I add sarcastically.

“Mmm nah, but a little more normal than last night”

“Ok ok, I accept these apologies too. Even though, it was me who invaded your privacy in the end and I think that any of us is free to be as weird as we fucking want when we’re by ourselves. And not just when we’re alone after all”

“You didn’t invade my privacy”

“Technically, I did”

“Well, maybe you did, but you can do it. I like it when you do. Do it more often”

“Haha something tells me the cake was good”

“The cake. Sure. It was delicious, thank you. And the coffee too”

“I only made the coffee so I can take credit just for that”

“No, not only for that… Anyway, you can also stay a little longer next time”

“I had to go back to work”

“I know, that’s why I said next time”

“Uhm ok”

“You never come over when we’re rehearsing”

“That’s not true, I do, from time to time”

“Apart from last night, I only saw you once since I know you”

“It’s just… I don’t know… it’s fun and everything, but in the end you’re there to work, it’s serious… I feel like I’d disturb or bother you”

“Are you kidding? That rehearsing space is like a motel, people are always coming and going”

“Ok, I’ll come over one of these days”

“I count on that”

“That’s if I find the time to prepare at least one cake or Mikey won’t let me in”

“Come on, just come see us… I swear I won’t do crazy things. And no weird hugs! Well, ehm, unless you don’t want them. I mean, normal hugs of course, 'cause I don’t think you… but also weird ones are ok if you… I mean, I don’t even know what I’m talking about. By the way, you know we’ve got new songs? If you came to see us, you could listen to them before anyone else…” why is he talking fast and nonsense like me when I’m embarrassed? Wait… why is he embarrassed?

“Oh well, in that case I can’t refuse, I must come to the gallery!”

“Ok, great. That’s if… if you’re not tired of seeing me”

“What? Why? What do you mean?”

“No, it’s just, you said it the other day… that we’ve been bumping into each other a lot lately”

“Ah! Well, yeah, it’s true, but I just said it like that”

“And I want to tell you again that there’s nothing behind that, I mean, it’s just happening by chance. Yet I, ehm, I like hanging out with you”

Oh oh, I know what’s happening and I know why Eddie’s strange: the poor guy’s looking for the best way to tell me he enjoys his time with me as a friend, a friend only. As if I needed him to tell me! What’s left to understand is if he’s somehow sensed something about my recent little fixation on him if it’s just a preventive move to avoid deluding me.

“I know, Eddie, don’t worry, I understand”

“I really like it”

“Look, I get what you’re trying to tell me, Eddie”

“Really?” he asks, suddenly looking taken aback.

“I feel comfortable with you too, also talking to you is nice”

“It’s not just a matter of feeling comfortable, Angie, I-”

Eddie’s clumsy attempt at telling me that yes, he really cares for me, so I’d better avoid ruining everything by letting strange ideas into my mind is interrupted by a choir of yells and wistles, which announces the band has just got on stage. That’s what I guess at least, because I can’t see shit as usual. The show starts a few seconds later, with a really funky song, who makes us move our heads and other things right from the start. I try and figure out the stage in my mind by putting together the small portions I spot between the heads, shoulders and arms of those who’re standing in front of me and when I turn towards Eddie I see him swaying around in rhythm. I don’t know why but this reminds me of his terrible dance moves at Crowe’s place on New Year’s Eve, I’ve never seen anyone move so ungracefully in my whole life. I start laughing the exact moment Eddie turns around and looks at me and gives me a broad smile and a thumbs up. Well, at least is in rhythm now, and he’s good at moving his hair around… and his hair is wonderful, so shiny and soft… FUCK SAKE, ANGIE, STOP IT!

I shift from left to right, from one foot to the other, trying to understand what the fuck’s happening on stage, and I spot a familiar figure: what I think is my dad, on the side of the stage, taking pictures. If I know him well, he must be at his second roll of film by now.

“Wanna go a little forward?” Eddie asks into my ear at the beginning of the third song. I bet he’s suffering here in the back, we’re honestly pretty far.

“I don’t really feel like going to the front, but you can go!” I shout back and as I do, getting close to his ear, his curls brush my cheek and it doesn’t help at all for my situation. Why the fuck must everything be so amplified? Do I really have to notice every little thing? And does every little thing necessarily have to affect me this way?

“I won’t take you to the front, just a little closer to the center”

“I don’t know…”

“Here, follow me.” he delicately takes my arm, that remains limp and falls back down as soon as he lets it go “Come on…” he holds my hand, smiles and here they are, those fucking dimples. He points at them himself after a while and if I had any doubts about him doing it on purpose well now I don’t anymore.

“I hate you”

“I don’t believe you” Eddie tries to drag me forward and this time I follow him, not without any difficulties, because I get pushed around each second and our joined hands are pulled apart by people jumping or moshing. After we lose touch because of the umpteenth group of guys running like crazy towards the middle of the room, Eddie stops and walks back to me, but it doesn’t take my hand this time.

“I think it’s better this way” Eddie is behind my back, he takes me by the wrists and folds my arms across my chest, doing the same with his over mine. He basically embraces me, creating some sort of protecting shield around me, and starts walking with me, making his way through the crowd. Moving now actually turns out to be easier and faster and less shaky. The fact it also feels nice to be held tight by such strong arms is obviously secondary.

“Is it ok here?” he asks once we get to a pretty quiet zone, on the left looking at the stage, from which I can even see something without standing on tiptoes or straining my neck.

“Yes, it’s perfect.” I reply turning my head to one side, but without turning to look at him completely, also and most of all because I don’t want him to see how much I’m blushing right now “Doesn’t this count as weird hug?” I add as a joke to relieve tension, mine of course.

“Oops, sorry!” Eddie lets me go and I almost feel like falling, as if I suddenly forgot how to stand on my feet.

“It was a functional weird hug”

“Yes and it worked”

“Exactly” I go on, every time turning just a little bit towards Eddie but without really seeing him or letting him see me.

The set goes on and Eddie’s behind my back the whole time, resting his hands on my shoulders from time to time. And for me prana, ki, meridians and chakra were, are and always will be nothing but a bit pile of shit, but the heat Eddie’s hands radiate is real, it goes through my spine, travels down across my legs down to my feet, then goes back up to my head, giving me really annoying goosebumps. Apart from that, my dad even managed to spot us in the crows and take a couple of pictures, all with a smart-ass smile on his face. Did Eddie notice?

“Anyway, I really like being with you” he says during a break between songs.

“At concerts for sure, I don’t block your view”

“Haha shut up!” he says grabbing my shoulders once again.

“And I’m comfortable to lean on when you’re tired” this time I turn around a little more, making eye contact with him, and at the same time pat him on his hand, which he immediately takes away.

“I’m sorry… see, I’ve been really all over you recently… I mean, literally”

“I can also be a small ladder when needed”

“Anyway… what I wanted to say before is that I’m not just at ease with you”

Ok, now comes the moment he tells me I’m such a good friend, that he’s comfortable talking to me, because I can listen and it comes natural to him to open up, that he feels better after we talk, that he feels understood and not judged, etc.

“Mm mh?”

“With you I…” Eddie stops because the band starts playing again, but then goes on, speaking at a little louder volume. Do we need to discuss this right now? Sure, he probably thinks it’s better to talk about something like this with the diversion of the concert, as if it was just chit chat between friends at a show, rather than sitting around the table and talk about the matter like it was some big deal. “ With you, I feel like home. And it’s not something to take for granted, because I’ve never felt completely at home, not even at my place. I don’t know if you understand…”

“Yes! More or less…” I go back to my previous pattern, quick answers and turning my head just a little, keeping my eyes on the stage.

“It’s like with certain songs, I don’t know if it’s like this for you too. Those songs you turn to whenever you need to feel safe, cuddled, soothed, backed up, understood. Like, I don’t know, Bruce Springsteen”

“So… I’m Bruce Springsteen?” I ask after being silent for while, not because he shocked me, but mostly because I liked the idea of putting a dramatic pause right there, I think it sounded good.

“Hahaha in a certain sense, yeah. I don’t know if it works the same for you with music”

“Yeah, but not with his music”

“You don’t like Bruce Springsteen?” Eddie grabs me from the shoulders more tightly than he did before and turns me around 180 degrees until I’m facing his inquisitive eyes.

“Sure I like him, of course I do, he’s the Boss, but…”

“But?”

“But I think I can’t appreciate him fully yet, I think it’s too soon”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a long talk and it’s also not easy to do it in the middle of a concert” I half yell, still with my back at the stage.

“I have a good hearing”

“Ok, well… I believe there are artists you can’t fully comprehend if you don’t have enough experience, if you haven’t lived enough”

“So I appreciate him 'cause I’m old?”

“Hahaha no! Well, yeah, but not exactly. It’s multilevel”

“It’s… what?”

“Oh let me think about it… it’s like… it’s like The Simpson’s”

“The Simpson’s?”

“The animated series on Fox”

“I know what The Simpson’s are, but… what’s the point?”

“The point is it’s great, a masterpiece, one of the few good things worth watching on tv. And literally anyone can watch an episode and appreciate it because it’s  multilevel”

“That is…?”

“That is it has more levels of understanding. There’s the main story, then humor, then different parallel comedy stints and a list of quotes and references, more or less famous, more or less hidden. A few weeks ago I saw this episode where Mr Burns was running for governor and there was this scene which basically was identical to the speech scene in Citizen Kane, and of course you must have seen the movie to get the reference and if you get the reference the suggestion works. But what if I hadn’t seen that movie? Would that have prevented me from understanding the scene on the whole? Not at all, I’d have understand what was literally happening, I’d have got the literal meaning, but I’d have missed so much, I wouldn’t have enjoyed all of it. And that’s how it is for me with Springsteen, I feel I’m missing something, that there’s some emotional reference I can’t get yet and that prevents me from appreciating him completely. It’s the same with Bob Dylan, I lack some levels”

“YOU DON’T LIKE DYLAN?!” Eddie’s literally screaming now.

“Dylan is huge, but I think I’ll appreciate him more in a few years. And between you and me, I can’t wait” I state right when the song ends, then I turn around towards the stage and clap and cheer at the band.

“What you say is right, but isn’t that the case with any artist and any work of art?”

“Yeah, but it’s stronger for some. Some artists just bring the baggage of a whole iconography with them, they always carry that burden on their shoulders, and Springsteen and Dylan aren’t just themselves: they’re themselves plus what they represent, they’re lifestyles, they’re whole lives, and it takes time to take a life and make it completely yours”

“See, it’s things like this too. This kind of conversation. The fact we talk about these things, it’s just… I love all this”

“Screamed conversations throughout concerts?”

“Yeah. And tell me one band or artist that’s home to you” Eddie insists, still talking into my ear behind my back.

“The Cure. And The Smiths” I answer without hesitation.

“I’m pretty sure Robert Smith and Morrisey can’t stand each other”

“Nobody can’t stand Morrissey. Even Morrissey can’t stand Morrissey”

“And you don’t need more life experience to understand them, right?”

“Nah, their music floats around in the limbo of pure eternal teenage, it’s the beginning of life. No, it’s the wait, the wait for your life life, waiting for it to finally start, for real”

“Ok… so The Cure and The Smiths”

“If you add Patti Smith you’ve just verbalized my personal Holy Trinity”

“Robert Smith, Patti Smith, The Smiths… there’s a whole lot of Smith in your triad”

“If I ever hit my head, go into a coma, wake up and decide I want a child, I’ll call him Smith or Smitty”

“Or you should just get married with someone whose surname is Smith”

“Yeah, that’s just what I need, more selection criteria to make things more difficult for me in social interaction and life”

“I like you, Angie”

“I like you too” I distractedly answer, trying to understand what the singer from Inspector said that was so funny to make the crowd suddenly laugh.

“YOU ARE MY CURE” Eddie unexpectedly yells into my year as soon as the band starts to play again. I roll my eyes. You just need to find yourself a girlfriend.

“Nah, you should see a therapist for that, a good one”

The show ends soon after that and one by one we get together again around a table, in a kind of isolated corner of the club.

“Not bad, I had fun” dad states as he comes back from the bar, unsteadily balancing a number of beers between his hands, I can’t count from here, maybe three or four.

“How many rolls of film have you used?” I ask, folding my arms on the table.

“Just a couple, I didn’t want to exaggerate. Anyway, did you see the bass player?”

“Ehm yeah, I think I saw him a couple of times behind the sea of heads in front of me, why?”

“Don’t you think he sort of looked like Sean?”

“Sean?” Thayil asks brushing his beard, after drinking some of the beer my dad handed to him before.

“One of her friends in Boise, he’s in Florida now”

“Who? Your ex?” Jeff asks and he’s sitting right in front of me and his long legs allow me to kick him easily under the table. He then tries to make up for that “Your ex friend?”

“Ex friend? Did you fight?” dad promptly asks as he immediately smells bullshit. Not that it was hard to notice…

“No, not at all”

“So why ex… friend?” I hate his fucking dramatic pauses.

“I meant that he’s a friend of hers, an old one, from her old town, her old life. We’re the new friend, the ones in office…”

“Mmm ok” Ray nods after a while, pretending to believe him. Of course, I’ve never told my parents anything about the mini break in which Sean and I briefly crossed the line of plain friendship, although they’ve always joked about that, as if they always knew. And if there still was a little doubt, Jeff dispelled it with a single move.

“Forgive him, Ray. You must understand he comes from Montana, he express himself in an rudimental way”

“Fuck you, Stone”

“On the other hand, you don’t look like someone who’s got problems in expressing himself through words, right Stone?”

“Oh no, he expresses himself very good, even too good” Cornell laughs.

“Say he expresses himself too much, period” Ament points out and the guitarists flips him the bird.

“I bet you write the lyrics” my dad tries to guess.

“No, he expresses himself enough in everyday life”

“Eddie writes the lyrics” I reply, blocking the umpteenth beginning of quarrel between Jeff and Stone.

“Someone who doesn’t express himself in everyday life as much as he should” Stone remarks, elbowing the singer.

“Mmm I don’t think so, from what I saw he can express his feelings very well when needed, can’t you Eddie?” Ray pats Vedder on the shoulder a couple of times and he just nods shyly.

“Hey, wait a minute. Did you realise that Stone, who basically never keeps his mouth shut, is the one who writes the music, while Eddie, who’s quieter, writes… the words?” Mike shushes us quickly to communicate his incredible discovery to us.

“Really?! You don’t say? That’s unbelievable, that’s probably why we said the same fucking shit just one minute ago!” Jeff remarks amused.

“Oh really?” Mike seems confused, but not as confused as he is after being poured a whole glass of what looks and smells like gin lemon over his head by the angry girl standing right behind his back.