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ruby-whistler · 3 years

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Srry but i noticed in one of ur dream posts u Referred to tommy's cat as hope. I must correct u, that cat was born pussbou and died pussboi. /lh Also tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile btw just wanna say Also for ur posts about dreams trauma or wilbur manipulating him can u provide links to vods or other proof? Srry if i seem rude i mean that in a "genuinely curious way"

Aaa sorry if my ask came off as rude im just genuinely curious :(((

hi! dw, you don't seem rude at all, and i'm extremely happy someone with a different perspective has found my blog! i really appreciate that sort of attitude and am happy to answer :]

/dsmp /rp

the cat was called pussboy by tommy, but dream only called it "the cat" and then said that "it was hope", which is why it sort of became a symbol (his hope is dead, basically) - that's why i kind of made its name capitalized, because it was more of a metaphor than anything.

most c!dream fans call the cat hope because it's just really nice and really symbolic, and also really sad when you think about it. that's why the name was used in the essay, just to clear up the confusion!

tommy killing that cat was nothing compared to dream killing mushroom henry in exile

i don't really think so? mooshroom henry was entertainment more than anything, and even if it was bad, when watching the stream i don't remember seeing him mourn that much - on the other hand, dream was very quickly and very obviously attached to the cat, with it being his only companion in months of isolation, along with the hope that even when tommy left it would keep him company.

keep in mind c!dream has been deprived of stimuli and human contact for so long it's officially classified as psychological torture at that point.

i don't mean to compare trauma or even compare deaths - because honestly, what c!dream and c!tommy have gone through individually is incomparable and i think neither should be diminished in favor of the other since they're both terrible situations.

that's why i disagree that it "was nothing compared to" - it had an obvious effect on c!dream, and was still c!tommy killing an animal specifically to hurt him, no matter what reasons he had.

when i'm talking about effects people's actions have had on c!dream, i'm not talking about those people. i'm talking about him. :) /lh

as for the trauma, a lot of people agree that a lot of the things he says or does are trauma responses, and hence it's very possible that he's had trauma before he went into prison!

this includes being repeatedly called a tyrant via propaganda by about half of your friends who decided to betray you, trying to keep peace and being pushed deeper into villainy instead, repeatedly being put in between a rock and a hard place in order to make sure the people you care about don't start killing each other, then being betrayed by your closest friends after merely trying to keep peace (sapnap & george) and just in general having no control over your life or image and grasping at straws to gain it back.

i know a lot of people with trauma who heavily relate to certain trauma responses, which aren't always just shaky breaths and flashbacks, but trauma often also manifests itself in extremely ugly and destructive ways, both inwardly and outwardly.

trying to control the people around you is also very often a response to going through trauma, as well as emotional repression which is... rather evident on c!dream during season two. it only seems to get worse with repeated abandonment.

in the end, during the vault scene, the way he acts really just isn't at all the way a healthy person would act, and a lot of his really bad mindsets come from the way he was taught by the world around him.

the character is very reserved however, and since we don't have his pov we can't really say for certain - a lot of people claim it in good faith because they have a lot of evidence for it, and i think they're certainly valid in that.

that is just before the prison, however. from what happened during the prison arc? there is no denying he's traumatized at this point.

he's been emotionally and physically abused by c!sam since the very beginning of being imprisoned, and being in solitary confinement for over two weeks is generally considered psychological (and maybe also physical?) torture. that alone shows up in a lot of symptoms of his mental deterioration while in pandora's during people's visits, and quackity's "sessions" just absolutely drove the point home.

what he's gone through during this arc is absolutely incomparable to anything others charactes have faced before, and it's just plain suffering being endured by someone who is, despite everything, still a human being.

as for the wilbur manipulation thing!! it's talking about the whole vassal scene (though even beforehand a lot of their interactions are pretty iffy), and here's a post about that :]

I also have a small question about the analysis u last reblogged cus it says "why dream needed lmanburg gone rightfully" and like. The house analogy is poor because for one cus the land is infinite. And 2 cus punz's yard was literally larger then lmanburg. And also stuff about dream being a mediator? Can u provide examples?

i wouldn't say it was poor. dream's said a lot of times that he didn't care in the slightest about the land - a lot of his problems with l'manberg arose with the fact that wilbur basically built it on lies and tried to disallow half of the server to come there. c!dream was mad about the division and the fact that wilbur wanted "freedom" to have authority in his lands - over others, as can be seen in this post also.

the table analogy was fitting not because dream was some overlord, but because these were literally friends he invited to hang out and live in a place he wanted to call home. claiming a part of it for yourself and saying people of a certain nationality can't come in is directly opposing those goals.

in the early days of the smp, dream's always been a mediator between his friends - sapnap and george, who would often get into fights and go around killing each other! he would always do his best to stop the conflict, which continued after tommy joined when he took him to court and then later tried to mediate conflicts he was a part of, which resulted in tommy killing him unprovoked, stealing his gear, and starting the disc wars when dream was trying to get his stuff back. later, during pogtopia, he is also most concerned with peace over everything, and this seems to continue indefinitely after.

Today i was thinking about how messed up the final control room was. Like. Dream arranged the betrayal and punz and sapnap killed tommy and tubbo who like. Were literal children and their pals (because the author, wilbur soot, is dead/j but srsly if u take the streamers words tommy said he was 9 during the revolution sooo)

Sorry im gonna ramble about how dumb canon ages are for a second cus like. Streamers can say the characters are one way or another (wilbur saying he is mentally 30-something, etc.) But in the end the characters act like they(or at least their streaming personas) do.

i... honestly don't find it that bad? they were in a war, and the final control room was basically just supposed to end it quicker. the l'manbergians made it clear they were going to fight to the death, so they really left c!dream no other choice. and it's not like he didn't give them chances to give up.

also yeah the 9 year old thing was retconned, because in that case c!dream would've been 14 and i don't think that's true.

c!tommy and c!dream were both young and once again, in a war. the final control room was an attempt to assure victory, which both sides would've taken if possible, but only c!dream saw he had the option.

i do agree the whole child soldier thing was bad but... complain about that to c!wilbur, methinks. he talked naive kids into fighting for his personal power. however, the age argument isn't really valid either way. they had enough agency to sign up for it, and whether or not c!wilbur pushing the intense nationalism onto them had something to do with that is another debate entirely.

Bacl to final control room cus like??? Also fun fact punz took 2 of wilbur's canon lives. And like that probably is what started wilbur's paranoia which later lead to his spiral and i. Many thoughts full of lmanburg today.

i'm pretty sure cc!wilbur said what lead to c!wilbur's spiral was a "dark, twister view of possessions" and "disregard for his fellow citizen whom he claimed to love so much", but i really wouldn't say it was the control room; if anything the sudden loss of power after the elections seems to me like the trigger for his spiral.

I watched the exile arc live and. I feel dirty almost for feeling little to no sympathy for c!dream (srry ive been forgetting to add that aa) because of his actions toward c!tommy and like. The whole probation was so humiliating and unfair and c!dream was planning to frame him for the crimes he and puffy did under the the guise of "pranks" and c!quackity was planning to seize the vice president role.

i mean... to be fair, if you didn't watch the prison arc much yet or only watch tommy's perspective i understand not feeling that sympathetic - however, i encourage you to maybe watch a few prison visits, since they could help you see the whole picture better!

i also watched it live, and i also thought it was terrible, but i share very much the same sentiment for the prison arc because. absolutely no one should have to go through either of those things, you know?

i don't think probation was that humiliating? he was just. being asked to not start conflict with the other factions for two weeks. of course, what happened as a result is in no way justified, but i don't think probation itself would've been bad at all. either way yeah the framing and c!quackity's behaviour was. very yikes, i agree.

Also c!tommy antis are dumb because they say "he deserved exile angry emoji" i dont see u saying that about ranboo. Just say you hate cc!tommy and go. Also people say c!tommy was just as toxic to c!dream and i??? No. One is the victim and one is the abuser and like. :/// man. This part is rambly srry

i wouldn't say they hate cc!tommy? cc!tommy has a persona who people think is annoying at first ( but then they subscribe because he is super entertaining big man! ) but a lot of c!tommy's actions are straight up toxic to certain characters, such as c!funndy and c!jack. he has a very dismissive attitude towards others and their trauma and it does affect the people around them very negatively.

examples; his repeated bullying and behavior towards fundy:

Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”

......

Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”

Tommy: “Yes.”

Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”

Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”

Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”

Fundy: “What do you mean?”

Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”

Fundy: “…What?”

( credit for transcript: @/findingjoynweirdstuff )

he's also responsible for a big chunk of c!jack's trauma, both with actions and words, and that's why i think certain people might dislike the character, and i don't think that's wrong of them. anyone can dislike any character they want if they don't attack people for liking them, in my opinion.

also c!tommy was most definitely toxic against c!dream in the cell. it's of course understandable but that doesn't change the fact he was constantly hitting and insulting him (without dream doing anything back for a long while until he snapped) which is toxic behaviour.

i wouldn't say he was "just as" though, so i agree with you on that. they're different and they behave differently.

i made a dream blob keychain today. Is it possible to send images if u wanna see? Idk cus i havent used tumblr before. I think that's all for now. Thx for letting me talk :D peepoShy -curious anon (but fr a connoreatspants c!dream redemption arc would be cool)

yooo that's cool! i don't really,,, know if it's possible to send images? try it out and if it isn't i'll try find a way to turn it on.

also, no problem! just please remember this is a c!dream sympathetic blog, and me as well as my followers are uhh,, oftentimes emotionally attached / personally relate to the character, so if you could avoid sending hate on the character (not that you have or that i expect you to, just a friendly reminder) in the asks that would be great! we already see a lot of it unwillingly so, i'd rather not see more, but as long as the discussion is civil i'm absolutely ok with you asking more and with me answering more questions if you'd want to! :)

if anyone else would like to reblog this and add some things i might've missed with my answers, feel free to, just go easy on her (she uses she/her pronouns!) and keep it factual.

i hope u had a good or at least ok time at school today :D

thanks! i gtg now because exam tomorrow but i'm going to try write the redemption essay tomorrow as well because ohhh boy i have a lot of ideas about what all i could write around the concept.

also sorry this was long, i can't keep my tongue on the leash :[

#c!tommy critical #c!wilbur critical #my asks #curious anon #long post #history #tw torture #tw manipulation

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heysimhey · 4 years

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Play The Sims 2 in The Sims 4!

I've been simming since 2000 beginning with The Sims 1. Of all the versions of the game, The Sims 2 version has always been my favorite mainly due to the character stories. Even when The Sims 3 came out, I still was tied to the characters and stories of version 2 and it never quite felt right. Then The Sims 4 came out and I was excited to see the Goths, but the story line was "wrong". My beloved characters were missing. I played for a few years and then went back to 2. I loved the stories of 2, but the game play and graphics of 4. What's a girl to do?

Create the Sims 2 character and stories in the Sims 4? Yeah, that actually works for me....and was a lot of work as well.

I didn't bring over the characters from every world in TS2. The reason being, I never really cared for any of the other characters from the neighborhoods like Belladonna Cove, Riverblossom Hills or Desiderata Valley. In fact, I can honestly say, I never even bothered playing Desiderata Valley. I had enough drama with the main three (Pleasantview, Strangetown and Veronaville....and Bluewater Village).

But wasn't it crazy that with every neighborhood, you got a separate and exactly the same Bluewater Village from scratch? So a different Malcom Landgraab everytime. The Malcom Landgraab from Strangetown didn't know the Pleasantview folks and vice versa. I always found that wacky, so I picked the ML from Pleasantview to play with and abandoned the other dopplegangers.

And why couldn't the Goths know the Smiths? Why couldn't the Pleasants have a barbecue with the Monty's? Why couldn't sims from one neighborhood have friendships/rivalries and romances with sims from another neighborhood? Well, now they can! Pleasantview, Strangetown (Strangerville), Veronaville and Bluewater Village are all open and connected in The Sims 4! I even threw in some goodies like the Newbies and Mashugas from The Sims 1 and that mean ole Mrs. Crumplebottom!

I tried my best to find original renditions of their homes from TS2. As you know, aspirations have changed a little bit, but I tried my darndest to stay true to their aspirations from TS2 with the help of other personality traits along the side. I have already played the neighborhoods to the point of where TS2 begins, with the proper relationships established, ghosts deceased (check out Olive Specter's lil' grim garden *shudder*) and everyone in their proper lots.

Original sims who came with TS4 are still around somewhere in the neighborhood bin. I evicted most of them to make room for my characters. Below are details for each neighborhood that I put together.

Huge shout-out to Midnite Tech for creating the package file that allows us to edit our World names.

The packs I have installed currently are: Get to Work, Get Together, City Living, Get Famous, Discover University, Strangerville, Dine Out, Movie Hangout Stuff, Vintage Glamour Stuff, Tiny Living Stuff and Holiday Celebration.

I wish I could say this is Base Game compatible, but unfortunately, you will need these packs in order to have the full experience. I will be purchasing the other packs as I choose in the future, but for right now, I'm good.

About Pleasantview (Willow Creek)

The Goths, Pleasants, Calientes, Dreamers and Brokes are here and are cued as best as possible to their TS2 initial situations. I also included Bob and Betty Newbie from TS1, whom we later found out were Brandi's parents. Their relationship is also reflected in this file. The notorious maid, Kaylynn Langerak is also residing in Pleasantview and is bound to cause some ruckus.

About Strangerville (Strangetown)

The Smiths, Grunts, Curiouses, Beakers and Specters are in full play with the appropriate ghosts haunting Olive's lot. Bella was definitely abducted by aliens (although we can't view all of their memories anymore) and dropped in Strangeville just the same as Strangetown's TS2. She has a story of her own. Thankfully, you can easily decide to reunite her with her family, or let her start a new life. Caution, the neighborhoods are connected, so she is bound to run into one of her relatives.

*For WHATEVER reason, the file would NOT let me change the name of Strangerville to Strangetown. It may have something to do with the whole Strangerville story line. But I have seen others edit this. Ah well.*

About Veronaville (Windenburg)

The Capp, Monty and Summerdream families are here with the Monty/Capp feud still going strong. Romeo and Juliette are still in love. Awwwww. I almost never played this neighborhood, but it just wouldn't feel right if I didn't include them.

About Bluewater Village (Newcrest)

The Landgraab, Tinker, Ramirez, Jacquet and Delarosa characters came on over with their aspirations. J'Adore Bakery is owned by the Jacquets, but I didn't create the other businesses.

About Downtown (San Myshuno)

This is where you will find the notorious Mrs. Crumplebottom. She is content in her little house right smack dab where it is and you better stay off her lawn. I heard Malcom Landgraab III offered her a ton of money to move so he could build a new skyrise. She refused to sell and clobbered him with her purse. So he built around her. Malcom Landgraab IV is terrified of her due to the fact that he remembers the huge knot his father had to nurse all those years ago, so he continues his father's legacy of building around her. She ain't budging.

About Twikkii Springs (Oasis Springs)(Twikkii Island)

I named this Twikkii Springs instead of Twikkii Island because Oasis Springs isn't really an island, so it didn't make much sense. So I modified it to be Twikkii Springs. I used Zerbu's World Type Changes mod to make Oasis Springs a destination world. The Mashuga's currently run things here in their token pink octogon house. At least, in my head they do. You can play this however you want. You can get the mod here or don't use the mod and play it as is.

Honorable Mentions

Del Sol Valley

I left these named the same as we didn't really have a fame expansion for TS2. I was tempted to name it Studio Town like in TS1, but that just sounded too "Toon-Town"ish, so nah, pass. I like Del Sol Valley.

Magnolia Promenade

I totally tried to rename this to Uptown Bluewater, but the game said nope. So Magnolia Promenade it is. Maybe one day the powers that bEA will be nice and allow us to freely rename our worlds....or is that wishful thinking?

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

Majority of the lots that you see here in these worlds, I downloaded from the gallery. I won't feel bad at all if you wanna change things up.

The custom maps that I used for my worlds, you will have to install them separately in order for your neighborhoods to look like my pictures above. You can get the maps here.

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

DID I MISS SOMETHING?? I tried my best to make this as close to the original TS2 version as possible, but the human in me probably forgot a detail or two. Let me know!

{HOW TO INSTALL}

1. Download my save file here. (SFS not working? Get it here instead.)

2. Then copy the file from your downloads folder into this path: my documents/electronic arts/the sims 4/saves | NOT your mods, tray folder or any other folder.

3. When you open the game, you should see the file The Sims 2 Reprise. :)

{TERMS OF USE}

Feel free to use this save file and have fun with your sims. If you make a video, please let me know. I totally would love to see how others play with this world. I would appreciate a shout out too!

I'm @HeySimHey on Twitter and Instagram and HeySimHey on Youtube. I'll be glad to hear from you!

#ts4 #ts4download #ts4 download #ts4 save file #the sims 4 #the sims 2 #ts2 #ts4worlds #ts2worlds #goths #donlothario #thesims4 #thesims #thesims2

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halo-jpeg · 3 years

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 5

Weak, cold, autumn light seeped in through drawn curtains, accompanied by the sporadic brrrrrringing of an alarm. The sound split the morning silence, tearing Eddie from his sleep, echoing through the entirety of the house more effectively than it was meant to. Eddie let out a groan, trying to reach out a hand and silence the mechanic screaming but just not being able to reach it- frustration sparked inside of his stomach for just a quick moment, and then someone else's hand came down onto the machine, cutting it off mid-ring.

"You set your alarm late," It was Stan, and, not really a surprise, he was already entirely prepared for the day, "Hurry and get up. I'll go make sure Bill is awake. Water is boiled on the stove and I made eggs, too." Stanley was dressed in a pair of bluejeans, as well as a knitted blue sweater he'd loved and worn for the last three years. His hair was styled into it's chaotic, curly perfection, swept gently to one side- he was smiling, a morning person, bright and ready for the day even though it was hardly 7:00 am. Eddie envied that constant 'ready-to-go' attitude Stan faced each new day with, when he- Eddie- had to will himself out of bed every time he opened his eyes.

"Thanks," He mumbled as Stan left the room, sitting up with a sigh and scrubbing his hands over his face to shake the sleep away. Eddie's jaws stretched wide in a yawn, and then he forced himself to abandon the comfortable warmth of his bed and crawl from under the covers. The air around him had a biting chill, the remaining after-effect of the rain that had been coming every now and again since Saturday, sending goosebumps breaking out over Eddie's skin as he made his way to his drawers, pulling open the topmost one to dig out a shirt. Settling on something simple enough, he pulled out a dark grey long-sleeved tee reading 'Back Pages' in bold white lettering and then 'Used Books and More' right underneath, in smaller print- Back Pages had been an- obviously- used bookstore from back in Derry, one of the only places his mother was actually moderately okay with him visiting. Along with the shirt Eddie pulled out brown pants and some miscellaneous belt, throwing the outfit together and running a comb quickly through his hair to tame the unruly bedhead.

"E-Eddie?" Bill's voice came from outside his door, probably in the kitchen, still thick with sleep, "Do you wuh-want tea? Coffee?" Eddie continued around his room, stumbling through the semi-darkness, shouting back his reply,

"Do you know where my chamomile is? Do we have honey?" Eddie grabbed his phone, head tilted towards the door as he waited for Bill's reply- at last, he heard something akin to an 'okay', but more of a grumble than that. With one last glance in the mirror and a silent 'you can do this, Eddie' that was meant to pep him up, he jammed his phone into his pocket and swiped his backpack from where it had been set by the vanity. Grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door right open, Eddie stepped out and hurried across the hall to the kitchen. "My tea?" He asked right away, his gaze darting between Stan, and then Bill, both seated at the small dining table in the far corner- a tall, open window sat behind them- the sky outside was dull and grey with the promise of yet more rain.

"Yeah," Stan nodded, motioning towards the counter right to Eddie's left, "It's poured and ready. Come eat, and hurry- I don't want to be late."

"We won't be late, Stan, w-we've got over an hour." Bill patted Stan's back as he reassured him, partially amused by the constant anxiety and worrying Stan never seemed to stop with- though, of course, that anxiety was pointed towards more realistic things, when Eddie's own anxiety was, in his opinion, stupid and trivial and downright annoying. Eddie poured honey into his chamomile tea, sliding the rest of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and then took a seat at the table. "Wuh-what classes do you guys have? I have English all d-day. Lit-literature and then luh-languages."

"Biology first, and then Mathematics." Eddie's eyes brightened at Stan's words.

"I have math second, too! Thank fuck- I suck at that stuff," Just as Eddie was about to continue, saying something regarding Stan and Bill's natural ability to do almost anything right, his phone beeped in his pocket and he remembered that he hadn't turned it on a single time since last night. He was quick to pull it from it's place, looking at his newest message- his brows screwed together, and he caught the skin of his cheek between his teeth, racking his brain to see if he recognized the unknown number that had texted him.

"What's wrong with you? Are the eggs bad?" Stan tilted his head, leaning in his chair to try and glance over Eddie's shoulder to catch sight of the screen of his Nokia. Eddie held it just out of sight.

"Do either of you know this number?" Rapidly, Eddie read it out, and it didn't ring any bells in either other boys brain. Bill shrugged, Stan lost interest- they both returned to their breakfast as Eddie read over the message once more. All it said was,

What ur schedule look like, penne?

It didn't make any sense. Eddie texted back and then put the phone down on the table to dig into his own food.

Who is this?

The eggs were great, as usual- Stan was one hell of a cook even though he'd only ever learned from his own personal trial and error. A light conversation was picked up again, the first topic being that of the rain. Eddie barked out a few complaints about the grey weather, how he was afraid to catch a cold and wished he had a thicker jacket and maybe rain boots, or a car, actually, yes that would be ideal. Bill said he liked the rain, Stan said he was indifferent but was enjoying the weather for what it was. Through bites of food and sips of early-morning tea, the three finished up their eggs and tossed the dishes into the sink, ready to go any minute now. Before Eddie could slip into his shoes his phone beeped again and he was quick to swipe it up and look at the response.

Come on conchiglie! U rlly dont rmmber me?

Eddie scoffed, his brows knitting together once more. Through his sleep-haze he couldn't think of a single person he knew that he didn't already have in his contacts- at least, no one that would care about his schedule. He had a few aunts and uncles that he hardly saw but they wouldn't be messaging him now of all times, he didn't think. And what the fuck was 'conchiglie'? Eddie was clueless- Big Bill, one shoe on and the other in his hands, pulled up at Eddie's side in a silent request to be shown what was so odd. Without complaint other than a sigh, Eddie shifted the phone over, and Bill scanned the texts before letting out a bark of laughter and sharing an amused glance with Stan that seemed to communicate everything.

"Oh?" Stan said with a cheeky grin, realization donning itself on his face, pressing in on Eddie's other side to read the messages for himself, "He finally texted?"

"What?" Eddie tried to ask, but he was ignored as Bill said,

"What's with the pasta names?" Eddie was way more confused now. Again, he repeated his 'what?' and again he was ignored, "Penne? Conchiglie? I don't g-get it. What an i-idiot." Oh- just like that it clicked together and Eddie's jaw dropped open. Penne, conchiglie- pasta... spaghetti... Eddie Spaghettie- Eds- Eddie- Richie.

"No, no no no no- Which one of you gave him my fucking number? What the hell?" Eddie jammed his phone into his pocket, rounding on Bill and taking in the expression on his face- it was amused, sure, but Eddie could already read the tiniest lines of innocence forming in his features. The way Bill's gaze flickered for a tenth of a second towards Stan told Eddie everything that he needed to know. "Stanley Uris what did you do?" Eddie spun to Stan, hands on his hips, glowering upwards at the much, much taller boy. Despite forcing every ounce of intimidation into his words as he could, Stan was grinning from ear to ear, sinister and ultimately unthreatened- his eyes were bright as stars and gleaming with mischief. "You know I hate that guy! He's- He's- He's so annoying! He's loud and he's rude and he's- I can't believe you!"

"Edward," Stan said in an even, polished tone, redirecting his gaze to slip on his shoes, "One of these days in the near future you'll be thanking me for getting you out in the world," Bill let out a snicker, and Eddie jammed his elbow into his ribs, silencing him effectively, "You need friends who aren't just me and Bill. Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- they're nice people, and you need to get out of that shell of yours."

"Oh, you're on to talk!" Eddie crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them just after to put on his shoes in a huff, "You're ten billion times more shy than I am, Stanley. I'm just fine with only you two as my friends, I don't need other people- I mean, I went 19 years of my life with no one but you two! I survived Henry fucking Bowers with just you guys to keep me safe! I don't need other people in my life." Now, Bill was cutting in and the tension in the hallway to the front door spiked upwards. Eddie realized now that the entire topic of conversation was about to change for the worse- shit, he'd let his mouth run, and now he was going to be pitied. Eddie hated pity. It made him ill.

"E-Eds, you cu-can't go your entire life with o-only me and Stan. I mean," Bill chuckled, his eyebrows slanted sympathetically, "I know we're g-great and all, but your muh-mother has kept you from having healthy social t-ties for your whole life. It's healthy to have more than o-one or two friends." The mention of his mother sent a tidal wave of homesickness propelling right over Eddie's head- a bitter, frightening, nasty homesickness- and suddenly he felt like curling up underneath his covers and crying his eyes out, but he wouldn't. He balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth together, and turned to the door. His bag was slung over his shoulder.

"Let's go." Eddie kept his head low and pulled the door open, pushing out into the hallway and going straight for the elevator without another word. Bill didn't want to let the topic drop just yet, but a nudge and a shake of the head from Stan was enough to get him to do just that- the shake of Stan's head said let him have this one, Big Bill. It's his first day of school. Give him a break. And so, the conversation was over, to hopefully be picked up again at a later date.

-----

Richie, earbuds in, King of Rock 'N' Roll playing at full volume, burst in a flurry from his music classroom and made a beeline for the stairwell at the end of the hall. Like some agile snake or cat, he dodged and weaved between other students as they poured from their own respective classes, determined to break out into the sunlight and share his contentedness with his friends.

"Tozier! Don't run in the halls!" Some teacher scolded him, but as Prefab Sprout continued jabbing away at his eardrums he didn't hear it- and he didn't really care to hear it either- he was too busy riding the high that the schools new set of drums had given him. Ever since Richie grew so involved with the rock genre and everything alike, he had wanted to learn to play the drums but had never been given the chance until today. Now, Mr. Carr had basically had to chase Richie from the class with a broom like he was some sort of radical street rat. With his big, goofy grin Richie sent himself flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time and not even wincing at the way his knees protested with every heavy landing. The doors to the outside were within his sights as soon as he touched down onto the first floor. Still pushing past other students, not even bothering with any courteous 'pardon me's' he was at them in an instant. In time with the thudding of the music, he shoved the doors open and went, quite literally, dancing and spinning out into the warming sunlight, which had just begun to peek through the clouds. From across the large expanse of concrete just outside the doors sat an emptying bike rack, and leaning against it he spotted more than the usual quantity of familiar faces.

"Top 'o tha afternoon to ye, Haystack, sor! An' Mr. O'Hanlon, awful good!" As Richie pulled out his earbuds, music so loud it was still audible even as they dropped to hand at his side, he took a dramatic double-take and let out a loud gasp, "Well, if it isn't so!" Now, Richie was the Southern Bell rather than the Irish Cop, and he was taking Bill's hands in his and fluttering his lashes through his thick-framed glasses, "Sir Bill, and your noble companions! What have I done to be graced with your presences, my fair gentlemen?"

"You know you'll ruin your eardrums listening to your music that loud, right? You can't fix Tinnitus- and if you go deaf you'll have hearing aids for the rest of your life." Eddie gripped the straps of his backpack, his eyes flickering down to Richie'e earbuds, which were dangling dangerously close to the dirty ground- much too close for comfort. Eddie almost shuddered.

"Aw, thanks for the concern Spaghetward!" Richie let go of Bill, moving for Eddie instead, and slung his arm enthusiastically over the shorter boys shoulders. In return, as if it were instinct, Eddie let out a sound like the croak of a frog and ducked away with a grimace.

"Don't call me that, jackass!" Out of the entire group, the only one who was observant enough to note the faint red tint on Eddie's face was Mike, and he wasn't going to call the poor boy out on it.

"I see you're all getting along swell, huh?" Richie's dark gaze shifted from Ben and Mike to Bill and Stan, and then, lastly, to Eddie, where they lingered for just a second longer.

"Stan and Eddie were in math with me," Ben says with his small, kind smile, "Stan is some sort of super-genius or something- Eddie, too. I don't get it." Without missing a beat, Eddie let out an exasperated sound, shaking his head furiously.

"No, no no, don't lob me in with Stanley. He's the super-genius, I just nod my head and act like I know what he's talking about." Stan was quick to decline.

"Oh, don't say that. You're getting it."

"Hey, Bev's in working at the cafe today- are you guys interested in stopping by with me, Rich and Ben?" The next one to speak was Mike, and his offer was met with a cacophony of different replies; Ben seemed content with the idea, his smile going wider at the thought; Bill was quick to agree, and Stan was much the same, though Eddie didn't see to thrilled. He let out a sound as if he was going to speak, but then he clamped his jaw shut, mouth a straight line, and bit his tongue. Richie himself was positively ecstatic. His already bubbly mood was only amplified by this suggestion, and his grin was so bright it could blind.

"Oh, you have to come! The sun is out for once, you can't go curl up in whatever cave you're renting. Whaddaya say?" Swinging his backpack off his shoulders, Richie pulled his walkman free and clicked the 'pause' button, then proceeded to, unceremoniously, jam both it and the earbuds in his bag once more.

"I'm down," Bill said, glancing at Stan, who nodded, and then at Eddie, who shrugged curtly and stared intently at the ground below his feet.

"Great!" Zipping his bag back up and throwing it onto his shoulders, Richie moved to lead the way, and before the group knew it they were off, headed for the campus' outskirts and following their trusty guide, Richie Tozier, towards Portland Authentic. The stroll was quaint, amiable- Stan hung near the back with Mike and Bill, pointing out the different types of birds they spotted on the walk. Richie had thought every bird here in Portland was just some old rock pigeon, but now he knew that there were actually mourning doves as well. Ben was at Richie's side, hands in his pockets, his neck craned so that his face was upturned towards the sunlight. Eddie was, though reluctant, to Richie's other side, desperately trying to tune out the bird talk behind him. His annoyance was evident, but there was also a subtle fondness in his soft, brown eyes that showed how much he cared for Stan and his passions.

"Does he talk about pigeons a lot? You seem peeved." Eddie almost jumped right out of his skin at Richie's sudden words, having been totally spaced out in his desperate attempts to disassociate. Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck.

"Oh, uh," Eddie's gaze darted over his shoulder towards Stan, and then to Richie, and then back at his shoes, his worn black Converse sneakers, "Yeah. He loves them, but... I don't know why. They kinda-" Eddie cut himself off with a shrug, his hand dropping to his side once more, "Kinda gross, don't you think? With their weird feathers and their gross feet? All of their, like, diseases and shit?" Richie's cheeks had begun to hurt from the stretch of his smile. Something today was just making him giddy. His chest was tight with unadulterated glee, and it felt like something was pushing around in his stomach, like butterflies. Eddie was so impossibly earnest. The affection in his gaze directed at Stanley was heartwarming, the exact same kind of best-friend love that Richie had with Bev, Ben and Mike. Despite Eddie being disgusted by birds he was clearly still glad that Stan had something to be so passionate about- cute.

"I dunno," Richie said, a tilt to his head, "I think birds are kind of cool. Especially magpies? Oh, God," Richie took a few steps ahead, and then spun on his heel to walk backwards, facing Eddie and talking animatedly with his hands, "If I had the chance I would have a pet magpie. They're so pretty- their feathers look all blue in the sunlight and stuff, and they get so fluffed out when they're pissed." Eddie looked dumbfounded, his brows furrowed, his jaw dropped- disgusted, that was the word for the expression he wore.

"Are you fucking kidding me? A magpie? Those stupid, nasty black birds with the white chest? Jesus, what's wrong with you?" Running a hand over his face, Eddie let out a huff- Richie's smile grew, somehow, if that was even possible, at the distress his words seemed to have caused in the smaller boy. Seeing him all worked up like this made that weird feeling in Richie's chest grow tenfold. Brushing that thought away, still walking backwards, he let Eddie continue. "They don't know how to shut up. Every Spring, ever Autumn- they would be screaming away at the crack of dawn. I could never catch a wink of sleep. My mommy used to fire at them with my dads old BB gun, but she never hit any of them."

"And thank fuck for that!" Richie scoffed, playful, "Those poor things don't deserve to be shot." Eddie countered with a quick 'yes they do', and then the bickering continued. Their back-and-forth, the lighthearted, heated-on-Eddie's-end banter felt perfectly natural. Richie would say some quip, some little thing about magpies that he found nice or cute or interesting, and then Eddie would come right back at him with why that was false. Richie probably should have been listening to these comebacks, but he found himself getting, more often than not, distracted by little things like the cinnamon-dusting of freckles across the bridge of Eddie's nose or the way his chocolate-toned hair was swept so tidily to one side, not a single hair out of place. Sooner or later, Portland Authentic had come into view, the glass windows showing through to the bustling interior. The after-school rush had just hit, and boy was Richie glad he had the day off today. As he pushed the door open, the bird conversation cut short, he noted exactly how busy it was. The line was huge, nearly reaching the entrance, and almost every single seat was taken except for one four-person table in the back corner.

"I'll get the table." Stan's tone was serious, his gaze determined, "Get me a-"

"B-Black coffee, yeah," Bill was smiling, waving Stan off with one hand. At once, with a final nod of affirmation, Stan sped away to secure the seats. Though Richie didn't say anything, he thought to himself how the hell can someone like black coffee? because there were so many other options, sweet drinks, savory, peppermint or rich chocolate- drinking straight black coffee as a regular was basically a sin in his eyes. Slow and steady, the line progressed, Bev behind the counter working with two other people named Britney and Mason. Richie wasn't too fond of them and honestly pitied poor Bev having to deal with them all alone. It had been a good two or three weeks since she's been stuck in a shift without Ben or Richie at her side. Finally the group of five arrived at the till and Beverly's face brightened like a Christmas tree.

"Rich! Ben! Mike, Bill, Eddie- Great to see you guys, my God, today has been absolute hell-" She seemed to notice she was getting sidetracked, and shook her head, frazzled, getting back into her working head space. "Sorry. What can I get you guys?"

"An affogato for me, my dear, and- Hey, Eds, do you like ice cream? Whatever- Get a second one for him, too. He needs to branch out a little." Eddie gaped, seconds from a retort as Richie ordered for him, but then Richie stepped aside and shot him a glance that was unusually sincere. "Hey, don't worry. It's another low-caffeine one, and it's more vanilla ice cream than anything else. You'll love it, I swear."

"Yeah, fine," Eddie set his jaw tight.

"One bl-black coffee and an amer-amer-am-" Bill bit his tongue, screwing his eyes shut, and then, with a sigh, forced out the words, "americano. Jesus." Bev gave him a calm smile, a silent 'it's alright, dude' and turned to Ben and Mike who ordered a coffee with two creams and two sugars and a lemonade. Richie offered to pay, abusing his employees discount, and then the group all turned to the table in the corner where Stan was still seated with a book in his hand. As the group approached he placed the small origami crane he used as a bookmark between the pages of The Shining and tucked the novel away- the front cover had been battered and frayed, a sign of having been read and reread for years and years. Clearly, the book was cherished.

"Great choice, Stanny," Richie complimented with a nod towards Stan's backpack, where the book had been hidden away, "You a fan of horror?" Stanley was quick to shake his head, hugging himself gently and running his hands along his upper arms.

"I hate it. Bill is making me read it. It's torture." Bill let out a barking laugh as he took his seat, having pulled up an extra chair from another table. Two people would have to squish into the corners since this spot was only meant to seat four- no one seemed to mind.

"So you're the horror fanatic, then. Glad to see we have something in common! What's your favourite movie?" Taking his own seat on Stan's other side, Richie held his head up with his hand, elbow planted on the tabletop, his curiosity officially piqued. Ben and Mike weren't fond of the gore-packed stuff Richie enjoyed, so Bev was the only one who ever went to the theater with him; the idea of having another friend to catch some films with was just swell.

"That's tough to suh-say," Bill tapped his finger against the table, glancing sidelong at Eddie, "We went to see H-Halloween a few years back. I luh-liked that one a lot, but now wh-whenever I see it I think of when your m-mom found out-"

"Shut up, Bill," Eddie cut him off with a harsh glare, and then forced his expression to soften, covering up his snappiness with a red face and a sarcastic, "D-Don't remind me." It was clear he was embarrassed- Richie would have pressed, since he couldn't keep his trashmouth shut sometimes (all the time), but Beverly saved the day by hurrying over with a tray balanced precariously on one hand. Atop that tray sat the array of beverages that the group of six had ordered. With Beverly's fantastic memory, she began to hand out cup after cup to exactly who had requested them; Ben got his double-double, Mike his lemonade, Bill his americano, Stan his black coffee (Beverly knew it was for him even though he hadn't been at the till- not many people ordered coffee black and she remembered him from that first night.). Richie and Eddie were given their double order of affogato, an Italian coffee-based dessert consisting of a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a shot of espresso on the side.

"Thanks, Bevvie," Richie bid her adieu with a two-fingered salute and then turned all of his attention towards Eddie, "Alright," he began, "Eds,"

"-Don't call me that-"

"-you're about to taste the best thing you've ever had in your life. Follow my lead," Richie plucked up the small one-ounce shot glass of espresso, and, reluctantly, Eddie did the same. In tandem, they poured the coffee over the ice cream, then grabbed their spoons. Eddie was the first to take a scoop, shooting Richie a glance that he couldn't decipher before taking the bite. For the quickest second his eyes seemed to light up, and then he swallowed down the obvious delight and simply shrugged his shoulders.

"It's alright, I guess," He grumbled, and then proceeded to devour the next bite of the treat. Richie grinned wide, taking a scoop of his own and lifting it into the air, accepting his victory.

"I would like to propose a toast!" He called, and all eyes turned to him, "To Stuttering Bill, Stan the Man, and Eddie Spaghetti- Welcome to the Losers Club!" With a cheer from nearly all- Eddie settling for a small smile- the group burst into friendly chatter. Richie's toast held some sort of unseen monumental weight- everyone felt it- even Beverly, who was behind the counter and working away, had paused to raise her water bottle with bright eyes. Though everyone felt it- it, being that feeling of rightness- no one said a word. It wasn't necessary. Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike had been a quartet for a few years now, as thick as thieves- they had called themselves the 'Losers Club' and, until Eddie, Stan and Bill arrived, the four of them had been the only members. No one could be certain what had changed, but, just like that, all seven knew that they were a singular unit. It was no longer Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike. Now, it was Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike, Eddie, Bill and Stan. The Losers Club with a capital L and a capital C.

In a fleeting moment, Eddie caught Bill's gaze, and held it. The redhead was wearing his leadership smile, that easy-breezy full-face grin that so easily gained him respect. Once the two's eyes clicked, that smile shifted into something else, something softer, something that Bill reserved for Eddie. It was a brotherly smile- After all, Bill was the brother Eddie had never had. Bill was the rock, the island in the middle of the ocean, the one thing that never failed to keep Eddie sane, the solace in the storm that had been his mother, and was now the unfamiliar territory of Portland. In that smile was an unspoken promise, as well as something else. The promise was These people will keep you safe. The 'something else' was Bill's pride- his pride in Eddie. I'm proud of you, Eds, the smile said. You're doing great. For the first time in his life, Eddie was fearless. His own smile said Thank you.

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #edde kaspbrak #stan uris #stanley uris #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #the losers club #it #it movie #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #it 2019

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holylulusworld · 5 years

Text

Pure Love (3)

Request: I was wondering if u would be willing to write a florist reader x mob dean story where the reader is extremely shy and doesn’t wanna date him cus she’s scared of him but he’s super soft with her and it shocks all the other mob members because they have never seen this side of him.

Summary: It’s been too long since he met someone pure making him feel less evil.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x Reader, Mobster!Benny Lafitte,

Warnings: angst, shy reader, innocent reader (non-sexual), fluff, flirting, comforting, soft/caring Dean, a hint of making out, implied smut

Pure Intensions Masterlist

The next weeks passed in a blink. You slowly got comfortable around Dean. Every morning he drives you to your shop to make sure you get there safe. Castiel or one of Dean’s other men is always by your side. You like the blue-eyed man the most. He’s a bit silent, maybe shy but less scary than Benny or Gadreel.

Unfortunately, this week Castiel is away, along with Garth. That’s the reason Benny took the trench-coat wearing man’s place.

“You okay there, Chère?” Benny is glancing at you, knowing you feel uncomfortable around him.

“Yeah…” Shyly nodding you try to focus on anything than the dangerous man sitting next to your side.

“Please don’t believe I would harm you, Chère.” Benny rumbles giving you a charming smile. “I know I can look intimidating, but I swear I would rather die than hurt a girl. Especially not my boss’s girl.”

“Why?” Curiously glancing at the man, you see his features soften. “Dean would kill me if anything happens to you and he would rip me apart slow and painful if I dared to harm you. Relax and act as if I’m not around. I will just sit here, read my newspaper and make sure no one will hurt you.”

“How did you get into this business if you don’t mind me asking.” Benny leans back, smiling at the memory. “I met Dean during a tough time. Some years ago, when I was younger my boss abandoned me for falling in love with a girl.”

“I’m sorry…” Gasping you meet Benny’s eyes and you can see the hurting all over his face. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Hey, that was years ago, Y/N.” The tall man shrugs, offering you a cracked smile. “Said boss almost killed me, left me to die in the desert. I thought he killed my lovely girl too but…” Now Benny sighs. “He offered her a better life and she agreed. Money can buy everything, I guess…”

“Not everything…” Gently placing one hand onto Benny’s shoulder you shake your head. “Loyalty, friendship and love - money can’t buy this. I watched you and Dean together. You are not just boss and employee, Mr. Lafitte, you are friends…”

“Call me Benny, Chére or I feel like an old man next to you.” Chuckling Benny pats your hand on his shoulder, glancing up at you. “I know why Dean has a thing for you, you’re someone special.”

Flustered you look at Benny, not knowing how to react to such a compliment. “I still owe you my story.” Getting up the tall man glances out of the window, remembering the day he met Dean.

“You don’t have to tell me, Benny. It’s quite alright. I know how it feels not wanting to remember the past or certain people.” Voice soft you stand behind the Benny, gently patting his back.

“I recovered and got to know my girl, the woman I love is still alive, held hostage in the Mansion which used to be my home. I wanted to storm into the building when someone stopped me.” Benny keeps on talking, explaining Dean wanted to break into the house too, to prove he’s worthy. “Dean had a plan to enter the house, I could get my girl and Dean gets what he wants too.”

“So, this was some kind of ritual?” You ask not understanding what this means.

“You see…uh…” Scratching his chin Benny tries to explain how things work in the ‘family business’. “It’s like when kids tell you to steal a candy to prove you are brave enough. This was the same with Dean.”

“I get it. Dean had to prove he can get into the house and get something special.”

“Smart girl. John and his men waited outside, just in case. It was the usual drill to steal something from a befriended family.” Benny’s eyes darken at the memory of that night. “Dean and I entered the house with a stolen key. I thanked him and we parted ways.”

“I assume something went wrong?” Glancing at Benny you can see the hurting once again as he starts talking again. “Let’s say my girl wasn’t in danger. It was the opposite, Y/N. She was living a good life. Money. Expensive clothes. Everything she always wanted.”

“Some people don’t deserve our love, Benny.” Turning around the tall man, your protector nods. “Dean needs to keep you for sure. He never had a nicer girl.”

----

“So…Benny and you warmed up?” Dean is looking at you while you try to feel comfortable in the fancy restaurant he invited you in for your third date.

“He scared me a little, but he seems to be nice. Benny told me how you met, well at least a few things.” You look around the restaurant, feeling the waitresses staring at you. “Why are these women keep on staring at me, Dean?”

Leaning closer to you Dean chuckles before he takes your hand in his to kiss it softly. “They are not used seeing me with a girl here. This restaurant is reserved for the Winchesters family and very close friends, Sweetheart. According to the way the waitresses look at you they know you are someone special to me…”

Dean’s words make your heart flutter. “You never brought a girl here before?” There’s a smile all over Dean’s face when he shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly. “Not a single time. I was restless for the last years, Blueberry Pie. I had affairs, flings but nothing serious. You are the first girl I can imagine marrying, Y/N.”

“Marry…” Choking on your water you look at Dean with wide eyes. He gives you his brightest smile, playing with your finger as the waitress approaches to bring you the ordered food. Dean is watching you glancing at the expensive food.

“Baby, you can eat it. It’s the best chicken parmesan in town, maybe even in whole Kansas.” Eyes softer than usual Dean looks at you, smirking when a little moan escapes your lips at the taste of the first bite. “Good?”

Nodding, you chew faster to answer Dean, but he starts eaten and you whine when he pulls his hand away to grab his fork. “I’ll touch you as much as you want to later…”

“UH…I…” Clearing your throat you glance at the waitress offering Dean and you wine while you shake your head at the young woman.

“Don’t be shy. Everyone in this establishment knows by now you are my girl.” Dean is teasing you once again, a soft smile on his lips.

“Dean!”

“What?” Awkwardly filling your glass, the waitress looks at you, trying to find out why the infamous Dean Winchester is falling hard for someone plain as you. “Don’t say such a thing. She could feel uncomfortable…”

“Y/N, I’m pretty sure Suzie heard and saw worse things than a love confession while she pours us some wine.”

“But we can change the subject for a moment, and I tell you how Benny became one of my best friends.” Dean offers you a distraction from his shameless flirting, so you nod eagerly as his hand gently caresses yours for a moment.

“I knew you are friends…” Your eyes shine when he starts telling you Benny and his story. “Benny found his love, Andrea. He believed she’s in danger, but she was busy fucking his former boss. One of his old bosses’ men captured Benny right before he could attack ‘the old man’.” Dean’s eyes darken at the memory.

“Awful…” Covering your mouth with your hand you imagine the hurting Benny must’ve felt back then. “Exactly. Seeing the woman, you love, the one you almost lost your life for with your former boss…” Dean takes a deep breath before he shoves the thought away someone could touch you.

“I wouldn’t do such a thing…” Mumbling you glance at your food before you shove another spoonful into your mouth. “I know, Baby. You’re such a good girl…” Oddly Dean’s words go straight to your core and you lick your lips, earning yourself a dirty grin from Dean.

“Anyways…I heard someone yell while I was hiding behind a wall. I saw Andrea kicking Benny down the stairs, telling him he was never good enough. One of these bastards aimed a gun at Benny and I jumped out, telling them I will lose the bet if they let him go.”

“Bet?” Dean remembers you can’t know about ‘the ritual’, the bets or anything so he tries to explain what he means. “It’s a tradition the sons turning 21 try to steal something from a befriended family. Whoever wins will get the prize, in my case my favorite strip club.”

“You sacrificed your win for someone you didn’t even know, Dean. I know you believe you are a bad guy, but this shows me you can feel compassion.” Your food gets cold while you just look at each other before one of you breaks the silence.

“You make me feel like a better man, Sweetheart. I want to be better for you.” Sighing Dean looks around the room, seeing the respect and partially fear in the guest’s eyes. “Family business is a part of my life, but I swear I will try to never get you involved in this kind of things. Castiel will be back in a few days and we will know if the gang is after you or not…”

Looking at your plate you know Dean wants to tell you that you can move back into your apartment, so you nod, blinking a few tears away. “Still I want you to stay with me. Don’t get me wrong, I like your style, but your apartment is way too small for a tall guy like me! I almost hit my knee in your bathroom when I tried to turn around.”

Chuckling you imagine Dean trying to find enough space in your tiny bathroom. “It’s not made for a tall man like you, with muscles and all. I’m way smaller and got no muscles…” Seeing the knowing look on Dean’s face you stop talking.

“I knew you checked me out, Y/N! My sweet, innocent girl is into checking her meat out!” Wiggling his eyebrows Dean stuffs another piece of food into his mouth, a never-fading grin on his lips. “Going to let you see all of my meat…”

“Dean!” Flustered you glance at the waitress looking at Dean, mouth agape as you feel the heat creeping into your cheeks and core…

----

Walking you toward your room, Dean has one arm slung around your waist, squeezing the flesh tightly. “That was a nice date…” He whispers in a lower voice than usual.

“Very nice…” In a blink, you are pressed against the wall and Dean’s lips are on yours. Tongue licking into your mouth, hands roaming your back he moans against your soft pillows. “Well, goodnight.”

“Good night…” Dean wants to turn to leave but you grab his hand, glancing up at the tall mobster slowly stealing your heart. “Do you really like me?”

“I don’t like you, Blueberry Pie…” Dean nips at your lips, breathing ‘I love you’ against you.

“We could not say goodnight right now…”

Dean’s eyes meet yours as he slings his arms around your waist while you do the same. Just standing there you let Dean kiss you again, humming against your lips when you move one hand to his butt, squeezing it harshly.

“Whoa, lady.” Chuckling at your boldness Dean sees the smirk all over your face. “I’m shy, not a virgin. I want you…”

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stick-man-simp · 4 years

Text

Some stuff about my stick oc Evans that no one asked for!!!

You wanna hear my headcannons about the actual thsc characters?? To bad!!! /j/lh (under the cut cus this is long lol)

1. What’s your oc’s most irrational fear? Is there a specific reason this fear came about?

They’re really afraid of something happening to their neck, like you know, that kind of stuff, ouch, no real reason for this fear, they just have it. They’re also really afraid of being abandoned and being alone oof

2. Is your oc picky about food? What kinds of foods do they like and dislike? What do they consider a comfort or “safe” food?

They hate tomatoes and milk with a passion, but otherwise most foods are okay with them, it’s more about the texture for them, not the taste, but if it has a weird texture, big oof moments. They really like any sort of fast food (except Wendy’s) and they love Dr Pepper so much lol

3. What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voiceclaim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents?

Their voice basically sounds like mine, but low key deep, and kinda raspy too. They can sing alright, not great but they like singing along to songs. They can whistle really well, the kind of really good whistling that pisses you off >:) lol. they cannot roll their r’s lol haha loser can’t roll their r’s :’). they used to have a stutter as a kid and it comes out when they’re really upset.

4. Is your oc good at keeping secrets?

They are great at keeping secrets, because they care a lot :), but also cus they have terrible memory and will probably forget it lol

5. What kind of clothes is your oc most comfortable wearing?

Their usual comfy everyday outfit is just a t-shirt and jeans, and hoodie when it’s cold. Same thing at home, but sweatpants or pj shorts

6. What kind of clothes is your oc least comfortable wearing?

Dresses >:( they’re ugly and uncomfortable, also flip flops, they hate them (they wear crocs lmao)

7. What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

I actually made whole a playlist for them oop- https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7qxg8Wm7qbMXKu2FRBKYI4 It kind of matches what they would listen to, upbeat with kind of sad lyrics

8. What’s it like inside your oc’s mind? (Literally, or metaphorically.)

No thoughts head empty, jk it’s a mess, they may seem really chill and confident on the outside, but on the inside they are always worried about saying the wrong thing and scaring people away, they just want friends :’(

9. What are your oc’s goals for the future? Relationship-wise, career-wise, or other?

Nothing much, they don’t like thinking about the future, they just go with the flow really, not good but whelp, it’s going ok so far. NO relationships tho, they are aroace, but boy do they wish they had some friends oof

10. Who’s the first person your oc goes to to talk about something that made them happy? Sad? Angry?

Usually... no one, maybe their cat or maybe their mom, but in the time where Evans is friends with Ocelot (Coelpts oc), they would go to him about literally everything lol and then get worried about annoying him oof

11. Does your oc have any interests/hobbies that they hide from everyone? Why do they hide these interests?

Not really, they have a bunch of hobbies, but cringe culture is dead so they are open about them all to whoever asks, but no one ever does aaa, but they do stuff like gaming, drawing, knitting, embroidery, baking, cooking, model trains, lots of stuff

12. How does your oc handle talking to somebody they can’t stand? What if it’s a situation where they’re forced to work with this person?

They don’t lol, they don’t take shit from no one and will say to their face that they don’t like them lol, but if they have to work with them, they will cooperate, but their gonna be a bastard about it

13. What’s your oc’s dream home like?

A cozy cottage in the woods, with lots of hiking trails all around, a chicken coop, and close to their friend’s house :’)

14. If your oc spent one day free from any consequences or recognition for their actions, how would they act?

They wouldn’t do much lol, probably just steal a bunch of Dr Pepper and snacks from the store

15. What’s your oc’s morning routine like?

They wake up at like 6 am and scroll on their phone in bed for a bit, and then get up at 7:45 to get ready lol, and leave at 8 to got to work, I mean it works but wtf Evans

16. What’s your oc’s nighttime routine like?

They usually just sit on the couch with their cat and some snack and watch TV or play games for a while before going to bed and scrolling on their phone for like an hour before finally passing out

17. If your oc had a social media page, what would it be like? What would they post about? How much personal information would they feel comfortable posting on it? How often would they update it?

They have a Tumblr, they don't make many posts, just reblog stuff, and they would totally share their fucking home address if someone asked nicely, they are unhinged

18. How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them?

They look at themself and think ‘woah that’s one sexy motherfucker’, they are a bastard man with way too much confidence, I don’t have any other os’s that would interact with them, but Ocelot totally thinks of them as just a big dumb puppy (he would never say that out loud tho lol)

19. How would an enemy describe this oc?

An arrogant son of a bitch (and they’d be right >:D)

20. What’s a superpower or magical ability that this oc would hate having?

Being able to read peoples minds, they would hate this so much, because it would make them feel evil and uncomfy, and they don’t wanna know what people are thinking about them, they think it’ll be bad oof

21. What’s a fact you haven’t shared about this oc?

They are nonbinary, AFAB, they used to wear a binder but they got top surgery at 20 years old, now they don’t wear a shirt at the beach and they’re making that everyone else's problem!! >:D

22. What’s your oc’s dream job? Is this similar to what they’re doing now? Do they believe they could ever achieve this dream?

They work for the CCC right now, and they had their dream job as an agent, but the promotion they got kind of ruined the dream, and their job is boring to them now

23. Who would this oc consider their family? What is their relationship with these people?

They have their mom, who is really great, their dad died when they were young, they don’t have any siblings, and they aren’t close with any other family. But, any friends they have they immediately get really attached to and think of as family

24. What is one thing that, no matter who it’s coming from, would anger your oc?

Getting called a coward (haha Marty McFly kinnie lmao), they are not a coward >:( (this gets them in a lot of trouble sometimes oof)

25. How does your oc handle sadness?

Not well oof, they mostly just cry a bunch and eat a lot, anything to get their mind off it

26. How does your oc handle anger?

Basically the same as with sadness but with furrowed eyebrows and ranting to their cat

27. How does your oc handle fear?

They are pretty brave so not much scares them, and they have to be brave for others, but when it comes to stuff that really scares them or just plain anxiety, they usually try to calm down as best they can, or they just run, they can run fast too

28. What’s your favorite thing about this oc?

Himbo :)

29. What’s your least favorite thing about this oc?

They have a primal urge to insult people, they don’t mean to really upset people, it’s all in good fun, but they can still be pretty mean sometimes, especially when they do it with strangers oof

30. Tell a random fact about this oc!

They’ve always wanted to have a beard or a mustache, but even with T they can’t grow much facial hair :(

#if you read all of that I love you so much wow #this was fun #I just wanted to rant about Evans lol #to get it out of my system I guess #if you send me an ask about Evans I will probably combust from happiness lol #if you listen to the playlist I made for them well just consider me deceased babyyy #my oc evans #evans #stick oc #thsc oc

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s-j-ace · 4 years

Text

The Same Question

Chapter Five

Characters: Shuichi Saihara, Ouma Kokichi

Words: 10600

Summary:

After Detective Shuichi Saihara encounters mysterious thief Kokichi Ouma for the first time, a game of cat and mouse ensues as both men ask themselves the same question. Why exactly does the elusive phantom thief do what he does?

This is Chapter Five, Here are Chapters One, Two, Three, and Four

Read on AO3

[Log of Text Messages from Maki Harukawa’s Cellular Device]

From: idiot #1

Hey Makiroll <3

How was your flight?

From: Me

Good

Well

You know

I was on an eight hour flight

So that was never going to go well

But I just got to the apartment and I made some tea

So I’m good now

It’s nice to be home

From: idiot #1

Haha I bet

Man I wish I could be home to greet you!

I’d give you a big hug and kiss right now if I could!!!!!!

From: Me

Gross

From: idiot #1

From: Me

…

If you were here right now I’d tell you I love you with my words

Like an adult

From: idiot #1

What no kiss?

From: Me

Maybe a small one

From: idiot #1

From: Me

If you’ve shaved

From: idiot #1

From: Me

I gotta wean you off kisses kaito

That way you won’t have to go cold turkey right away when you go on your big trip

From: idiot #1

My big trip?

Lol, you make it sound like I’m just going overseas or something

From: Me

Well space is treated as international waters by most countries

From: idiot #1

I guess that’s true?

Hey!!

That’s a space fact!

Maki Roll!!!!

From: Me

Shhushhhh

From: idiot #1

From: Me

Oh hey

Speaking of big trips

Have you heard from Shuichi at all?

I’m concerned that he may be mad at me

From: idiot #1

Whaaaaat

Why would shuichi be mad at you

From: Me

Well

I didn’t back up his clowns stealing toilets from the louvre thing

And then clowns stole toilets from the louvre

I’m worried he may feel as though I’ve gaslit him

Or something

From: idiot #1

What

How did you know about the toilets

From: Me

It was in the news?

Wait, so you heard a different way?

From: idiot #1

From: Me

So you have heard from him

From: idiot #1

Oh yeah

I don’t think he’s mad at you

He’s pretty preoccupied with the clowns I think

And besides you know

My sidekick isn’t really the type of guy who like

Gets mad

He’s more likely to like

Think you’re mad at him

And then be mad at himself for making you mad

From: Me

Shuichi gets mad sometimes

I saw him punch a guy once

And he listens to those songs that are just people screaming endlessly about hating other people

From: idiot #1

Yeah but he cries while doing that

Also I meant like

He wouldn’t get mad at you like that

Because you’re friends

From: Me

Yeah

You’re probably right

I still want to go visit him tomorrow

Say I’m.. sorry? Or something

Is this the kind of stuff that apologies are for?

From: idiot #1

Well I mean like

If you feel bad like by all means feel free to let him know

But Shuichi probably doesn’t think it’s a big deal

From: Me

Yeah but I still want to

From: idiot #1

Also I don’t think visiting him would be super productive

As far as I can tell he isn’t back from his trip yet

From: Me

What

But it’s been a month since he left

Isn’t he bored of Paris yet

From: idiot #1

No I think he’s like

Going other places too

From: Me

wym

Like, he’s doing a tour of europe?

That sounds nice

From: idiot #1

No I think it's more like

He’s still on the case

Cuz last week he was in Taiwan

And the week before that he was in Egypt

And some robberies happened there

From: Me

So he didn’t take my vacation advice at all huh

From: idiot #1

Yea I guess not

But hey

Not giving up is a good thing!!

From: Me

But what if you need to give up something that’s hurting you

Like smoking or murdering or drinking or overworking yourself because you equate productivity to self-worth

From: idiot #1

Then don’t give up on trying to get better!!!! You gotta believe in the best version of yourself

From: Me

|:/

Is he at least going to take a break long enough to come home and see you off

From: idiot #1

From: Me

Maybe I could text him to remind him and casually slip in the fact that I may be a little bit sorry that I thought he was insane

I mean obviously he’ll want to come see you before you go

You did tell him right

Kaito

...

You forgot to tell him

From: idiot #1

Well I don’t know about forgot

It’s more like

There was never really a good time? To tell him?

From: Me

…

I’m changing your contact back to number one idiot in my phone

From: #1 idiot

Ouch

Will you change it back if I tell him today?

From: Me

Maybe

Do you even know where he is?

From: #1 idiot

…

From: Me

… well you better find him before I change your contact to “best friend loser”

From: #1 idiot

Implying that I’m your best friend and a loser or implying that I lost our best friend to the thrill of chasing a group of fiendish clowns

From: Me

Both

From: #1 idiot

Okay okay I’m already texting him --- Shuichi Saihara spent the start of his day awkwardly trying to fit in with the rest of the people sitting in the front row of the exceedingly fancy audience at the first show of fashion week in Milan, Italy. He knew he should technically feel exceedingly lucky that he even got into the show, let alone that he got one of the very expensive front row seats. The Milan fashion week people were certainly the most cooperative of any potential DICE targets he had tried to warn previously. Probably because Shuichi made sure not to just send the warning through Interpol this time, and the fashion people actually cared about their careers enough to take the threat of a break in seriously. Except, Shuichi wasn't sure all the security should be placed around the stages and dresses like they were. The most typically valuable item on sight was never really DICE's MO.

That's why he was here, wasn't it?

In the front row. With all these strangers. Who were giving him weird looks. Did that lady just whisper to her friend while looking directly at him? Wait no, don't look at them. Or maybe do look at them? What if they were DICE members who only just spotted him? Right, right, all these people were suspects. Job before social anxiety Shuichi.

Refocused, Shuichi made some observations around him. He scanned the crowd, but didn't see any of the DICE members he would recognize. He did see that security guards had been helpfully placed by the doorways. He wondered if any of them were interpol agents. If they were, it wasn’t anyone he knew. Probably for the best anyway. Agent Ishimaru was mostly likely still pretty steamed at him. He hadn’t been letting Shuichi look at the notes DICE sent to Interpol, even though their team didn’t seem to have as much luck translating them as Shuichi had in the past.

Wait, there was one entrance wasn’t there? Maybe he should watch it? After all, there was no guarantee that DICE wouldn't just walk right in. Like they did in Nevada. And Cairo. But weirdly not Taipei? It seemed like they had abandoned whatever they were going to use Doctor Iruma’s EMP bombs for after failing to get them... Or were the bombs the heist after all and DICE had just waited for him to leave Taiwan to carry out the heist and actually weren’t in Milan at all and Shuichi was a big old idiot? No, they had to be in Milan, he had seen the airport tapes and done the research. But were they at the show? If they weren’t that’d be good news for the next season of fashion, but probably not for Shuichi’s case...

Ok, he just had to make sure that even if they were here nothing got stolen. What was he saying? Oh, yeah. Just walking in was probably less likely here, with all the security and all.

But wasn't it just like DICE to pick the path less likely than one would expect?

As the intro music cued in to the beginning of the fashion show and the house lights dimmed, all Shuichi really knew was that he should be ready for anything.

Two spotlights did a bit of a dance on the catwalk before they too faded and the whole room was pitch black.

There was a moment of silence.

…

And another.

…

And… another…

…

People started murmuring in the crowd.

Shuichi heard some English lady say, "What, do they expect us to have night vision?"

"It's all part of the show, dearest," said the woman next to her.

Shuichi thought for a second.

…

And another.

…

And a-

…

They stole the lights didn't they. --- Kokichi Ouma had to be honest with himself, as he continued on his circuitous route throughout the vents which overlooked the first show of fashion week in Milan, stealing all the lights from this year’s venue wasn’t very inspired. He was essentially reusing the Taipei 101 idea that hadn’t come to fruition, but Queen had insisted he needed a powerful light for his next project and the rest of DICE seemed to have formed some sort of blood pact to support whatever his next heist idea was as long as he didn’t make them watch the cinematic masterpiece Cats (2019) at their last movie night.

Kokichi himself hadn’t actually seen Cats (2019) yet. He kept reminding himself to, after hearing of its reported cursedness, but he just hadn’t gotten around to it. DICE had watched it for the first time without him, and now every time Queen brought it up Kokichi felt obligated to shut him down for the sake of maintaining his own authority. “Now Queen, obviously I love Cats (2019) directed by Tom Hooper and starring Franceska Hayward, as a fellow enthusiast of the cinematic arts, but for the sake of everyone else…” Cue eight sighs of relief courtesy of your one and only super awesome boss.

While thinking absentmindedly about his and the cinematic masterpiece Cats (2019)’s passing like two ships in the night, Kokichi checked where all his pieces should be on his internal chessboard. The locations of four fake guards, two fake handymen, and three vent crawlers popped up on the schematics he had memorized of the event hall. All busy dismantling lighting equipment or keeping an eye on a certain detective.

The word detective sent a third train of thought spiraling. Saihara really had shown up, hadn’t he? Kokichi hadn’t even sent a note this time and the detective was already here in the front row of the audience. That was probably the main reason Kokichi felt it was fair to upcycle the same plan from Taipei. Usually he’d get bored of an idea after tossing it around for a bit, so he had to act fast before his own lack of motivation became his undoing, but with Saihara around he didn’t have to worry about entertaining himself with his plans. Whatever the detective would do in response was bound to be far more interesting.

Okay he was almost in position for the first hit, and Ace was about to cause the black out in 5… 4… 3…

Oup, the light already turned off. Now Kokichi was just shuffling through the dark old vent getting ready to drop down and steal the lights from whatever room was beneath him while counting to himself about nothing and having three incongruous trains of thought at the same time.

The reason behind Kokichi’s super special secret ability to be thinking about three things at once was that A) he was a genius and 1) he was still on a sugar high from the gelato that he and his hench people had gotten for breakfast, and everyone knows sugar make brain work good.

Also! Gelato is just like… Ice Cream ++. Just like, better ice cream. It was just smooth and creamy instead of cold and chunky all the time. Kokichi could eat a lot more of it without getting a brain freeze than the regular stuff, and he wanted to get as much of it in him as possible before they left Italy forever. He’d ‘reluctantly’ promised they’d get some more to celebrate after the heist was done, but it was mostly because when they were plotting their escape he didn’t want to deal with a sugar cr-

*CREEEEAAAAAAK*

No, a crash, silly vent making a stupid noise, a sugar cra-

*CRACKOOM*

That was the last sound Kokichi heard before the ceiling crumbled beneath him. --- Shuichi Saihara realized that, by all means, the black out was rather clever. It completely stifled any immediate action on the part of an investigator. Even if Shuichi was right and it was the stage lights that were stolen, waiting to confirm the fact would only give the thieves more time to escape. He’d probably be able to bumble around in the dark searching for the entrance, but then what?

Then his phone buzzed.

Oh. Duh. He thought.

Quickly he pulled out his phone, swiping aside whatever thing Kaito had just sent him to access his phone’s flashlight feature.

"Lights!" He shouted. "Use your cellphones as lights!"

He repeated these directions once more in the best Italian he could manage, hoping he sounded authoritative enough to garner a response.

There was a great shuffling all around him as the audience muttered and reached for their phones.

Then, as Shuichi turned on his own phone's flashlight and raised it up, he watched everyone in the audience do the same. Hundreds of little lights flickered on around him, the image of the runway becoming clearer every second.

As if that were their planned cue all along, the first models began to strut down the catwalk, every glitzy gown and sparkly suit seemingly illuminated by a thousand stars in the night sky. The audience oohed and aahed, and maybe Shuichi would've found the sight pretty cool too if he hadn't been looking up at an entirely different catwalk altogether. The lighting deck above had apparently been stripped bare during the black out. Shuichi knew that both sides of that catwalk let out to the heavily guarded backstage area. So where did DICE go?

Wait… were those horizontal air vents over the catwalk?

Shuichi started making his way over to the security guards near the exit.

God, when would architects of security systems ever learn? Why would you ever put a horizontal vent right above whatever it is you're trying to not get stolen? It's child's play! Any thief with at least one limb or a very ambitious set of teeth could steal something with a horizontal vent over it, and yet no one ever thought to check them until it was too late!

When he reached the guards he said hurriedly in a low tone, “We need to check the vents right now.”

Both guards gave him weird looks and Shuichi felt his confidence immediately wither.

“Parla solo italiano.” Said the guard to the right with the long dark brown hair tied in a tight bun. Speak only Italian. Shit.

Uh. Okay. Um.

“I ladri hanno... colpito,” Okay, ladri means thieves. Yeah. Uh. Was colpito the right word? Maybe? It sounded like culprit. What was the word for air vent again... “Controllare l'uscita… dell'aria!” Yeah! It was dell’aria. Okay. Good. Italian spoken.

Except now she was giving him an even weirder look.

“Cosa hai detto signore? Lardo hanno colpito? Qualcuno sta lanciando lardo tra il pubblico? Lardo nelle prese d'aria?”

Ah. Uh. That was a lot of words. Cosa… hai detto… what did you say sir. And then. Something about lard?

“Lardo….” Had she not heard him correctly through the loud music of the show happening behind them? His eyes wandered to the other guard, a man about the same height as the woman with the same dark brown hair color. Both guards were wearing sunglasses, but the man’s face suddenly scrunched with obvious anger.

“Hey! Are you calling me fat?” He accused with no hint of Italian accent.

… What? Why would he… Unless…

The woman cracked her knuckles. “Ti faccio vedere dov'è il lardo, ragazzo duro.”

Before Shuichi could even begin to decipher what that meant, the woman put him in a headlock.

DICE . Shuichi realized as the man took a cloth out of his pocket. Shuichi smelled the sweet, familiar scent of a volatile anesthetic. Probably chloroform or something of the sort….

Luckily this wasn’t the first time Shuichi had been in a headlock, and she wasn’t even holding a knife to his neck. He tucked his chin into the arm restraining him, holding it with his right hand as he brought his left up and over the front of her face. In one smooth motion he flipped her over on her back.

Officer Chabashira had taught him that. Tenko had been one of his better friends on the force. Though she spent most of her time beating up other cops for being misogynist pigs than catching criminals. Then again that strong sense of justice was something Shuichi actually liked about her. He hadn’t seen much of her after she quit the force, though. He heard she opened a studio for something called “neo-aikido” but had been too afraid of too many things, like that she wouldn’t recognize him and that things would be awkward and then she would yell at him for being a degenerate male, to check it out. It was probably for the best anyway. If she were here right now, she’d definitely yell at him for betraying the number one rule of her aikido teachings...

“Shuichi don’t use neo-aikido on girls. If a girl tries to kill you, you deserve it.”

Said “girl” trying to kill him landed in a roll, and probably would have tried to grapple him again if she hadn’t crashed into a nearby audience member.

Shuichi made a break for the exit. He expected to be intercepted by the other guard, but the man turned instead to help up his partner.

“You okay, sis?” He asked concernedly.

“I’d be better if you weren’t letting him get away, lo stupido!” She replied tartly and also, Shuichi noted, without much accent.

He managed to get through the doors and found that the guards that had been assigned to stand outside the entrance were no longer there. That meant that he would most likely have to find his way backstage by going around the building if he wanted back up, so he started running.

He’d probably have to shake his tails first, he reminded himself as the doors burst open again behind him.

Shuichi changed course, making a couple of quick turns. Around the corner near the exit he saw the sign for the men’s bathroom. Of course! The bathroom! There would definitely be a vent outlet in the bathroom.

He opened the door and quickly ducked in. He hoped that the DICE members wouldn’t follow him in before he got to the-

Shuichi froze.

The scene that lay before him was one familiar to him since childhood, but yet every time he saw it he hoped to never see it again.

A body was sprawled face down on the bathroom tile, blood splattered on the ground all around the head. Shuichi realized that he recognized the blood soaked hair’s strange purple color, although it seemed to be tied back for some reason… He looked up at what was apparently a hole in the ceiling and deduced that the thief had been crawling through the vents when he fell. The rubble on the ground around him seemed to confirm that. Shuichi…. Shuichi couldn’t tell if he was breathing from here.

What a way to end the thief’s crime spree...

He willed himself to put one foot in front of the other. Then he did so again. Then he got over his shock and walked up to the body. These things get easier, he reminded himself.

Shuichi kneeled down to take a look, careful not to contaminate any of the blood spatter with his shoes. There… really was a lot of blood. There were no obvious signs of breathing…

Okay. Shuichi needed to check the pulse to see if he should call an ambulance. Maybe there was still a chance…

He reached for the man’s wrist-

The man suddenly sprung up, thrusting his huge grinning, and now blood covered, clown mask into Shuichi’s personal space. “It’s a lie!” He exclaimed

Shuichi startled, falling on the floor. Shock ran through him as the thief began to cackle his signature laugh.

“Did I surprise you?” He teased, blood pouring down his mask, “Were you going to scream and cry in terror?”

Shuichi looked at him in shock for a solid ten seconds. The thief in return looked at him, leaning back and forth a little dazedly. Shuichi watched a drop of blood separate itself from the man’s chin, going to join the puddle on the floor.

“Oh, sorry…” The man disrupted the silence. “I should be saying something real witty just about now… I’m just a little light-headed from the blood loss. Yeah. This is. This is real blood.”

Then the shock was over and Shuichi found himself reacting by standing up, grabbing the thief, and putting him in a standard police academy arm lock on the ground. As much as the move required speed, Shuichi tried to be mindful of the head wound. He didn’t want to give the thief the chance to escape like his mistake in Taipei had, but he also didn’t want to further injure him.

The man still made a grunt of pain when he hit the ground. “Wow, detective, you’re a lot better at police brutality than you are at dressing for fashion shows.”

Shuichi remembered the people in the front row of the show who had been giving him odd looks. He frowned. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?” He muttered as he tried to figure out how he could hold this guy down and also grab a bandage from his coat pockets. Which were very functional, thank you very much.

“Well, some people might say that the all dark clothing kind of makes you look like an evil villain.” He said with the same dazed tone in his voice. How much blood was he losing? Shuichi couldn’t tell with the mask still on. He moved to take it off-

The door opened and Shuichi saw two security guards come in and Shuichi turned slighty to look at them. Thankfully they weren’t the two from before. Perhaps they had figured out the vents were the escape route already and had come to investigate?

“Like those guys.” The man beneath him muttered on. “They might think black clothing is kinda.. Villain looking. Not me though, I think you look like a sexy motorcycle.”

Shuichi frowned at him. Wow, he sounded very loopy. He was losing a lot of blood.

Shuichi turned to address the guards, who were seemingly frozen in shock. “Scusa... ma potra-no, uh, tresti, potresti chiamare,” what was the gender for ambulance again? “a-ambulanza-”

The woman from before burst in, the other DICE member pretending to be a security guard at her heels. She pointed at Shuichi, exclaiming, “L'uomo in cima a quel brutto bambino è colui che ci ha attaccato!”

“Vroom vroom” The man beneath him giggled out before Shuichi was picked up by the two guards and slammed against the wall.

“Sei sicuro che sia lui?” One of them said to the Italian-speaking DICE member. “Quest'uomo sembra molto debole.”

“Quello è lui. Deve essere uno dei ladri.” She was… calling him one of the thieves? “Sono addestrati in aikido, ricordi l'incontro informativo?”

“Certo, certo.” Said the guard in response, obviously lying. If he had been to the l'incontro informativo - the informational meeting - then he would know who Shuichi was.

“Tu non capisci!” Shuichi exclaimed.

“Stai zitto, straniero.” The other guard shoved him up harder against the wall.

“Boss! What happened to you?” The male DICE member exclaimed.

His “boss” propped himself up on his elbow and swung his legs like a tweenager at a sleepover party. “Well, it’s a funny story! But at this rate I’m going to pass out from blood loss before I tell it to you!” His lackey gave him a concerned look. “Neeheehee… just kidding.”

“Wait I-” Shuichi started to say. The guards shoved him harder against the wall and he winced before going on. “I have some bandages and gauze in my pockets somewhere.”

The DICE members all turned to look at him. The man who had dressed as a guard looked at him hopefully, but the bleeding thief only gave him a blank stare and the woman fixed him with a steely glare.

“Aiuteremo questo piccolo bambino straniero.” She said icily. “Voi due potete prendervi cura del criminale.”

“What can I say Saihara?” The thief muttered as his lackeys helped him up. “Ya.. Ya shouldn't've worn all black to fashion week. Yup. That’s the… That’s the moral here.”

As they shuffled away, Shuichi realized there was nothing he could do. Even if he fought both security guards and managed to escape somehow, it would only prove to them that he really was a threat, and that was aside from the fact that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to capture the thieves on his own. He’d have to wait until they brought him to someone who actually recognized him and by then it would be too late.

The impossible is possible, all you gotta do is make it so.

“... I’ll stop you.” The detective said, resolution clear in his voice.

“I’d like to see you try.” The thief muttered in response.

Then the door shut. --- “Man… You’re really bleeding a lot there, boss…” Clubs muttered as Kokichi buckled himself into the seatbelt of their getaway car. After putting him down in the back seat, Clubs got in next to him, taking his usual spot in the middle seat even though there wasn’t really a need yet. Maybe he was anticipating the arrival of the rest of the group. Or maybe he was just being Clubs. And Clubs always sat in the middle seat. Not because of a reason but because he did. People operated from their own internal self as if the person they constructed from their thoughts and actions was more important to maintain than any law in the land.

Italian cars were… really weird huh? Very smooth… Like, like… Gelato.

“I’m fine.” He said. Ugh how unconvincing. “I’m just... pretending to bleed.”

Clubs frowned at him. “How could you possibly pretend to bleed?”

Kokichi was! Going to come up with a very, very good explanation. As soon as he just… sucked that blood back in… yeah… gelato… they were supposed to get gelato…

“He can’t.” Spades ducked her head into the car. “We need to stop it. Do you have a cloth or anything on you?”

“Only the one…” Kokichi muttered. He was thinking about the kerchief he still had in his pocket from the detective. Not that either Spades or Clubs knew that. They probably just thought he was going crazy. Well fine he didn’t want them to know about it anyway. They’d just get blood on it.

“Here,” Clubs took off his own bandana and put it on Kokichi’s head. “He’s still bleeding.” He reported.

“That’s why we’re taking him to a hospital.” Spades replied, now taking her place in the driver’s seat of the gelato car.

Ugh, what? No.

“You can’t take me to a hospital. It’s the first place they’ll look.” He wasn’t going to let the detective catch him at a hospital of all places… What kind of Phantom Thief got caught in a hospital… Lame… Lamey-lamey-lamooo….

Spades put the key in the car and started it. “Fine. We’ll go to a mafia doctor if we have to.”

Kokichi shook his head and felt the fluids roll around inside and outside of his skull. Part of him wondered if he could just sit in this car forever and bleed out until he died. The other part of him was sure that he was doomed to be immortal. “Nope. You crazy or something? We cannot get mixed up in organized crime. They murder people and we don’t do capitalism. Crime should be disorganized or else-”

“Okay! Fine! We’ll go to a fucking Farmacia and pray that you don’t have a concussion!”

Kokichi snorted. “I can’t have a concussion. I’m too smart.”

Clubs gave him a look. “Boss, do you know what a concussion is?”

Kokichi squinted. He’d only ever seen the word being used by people making fun of jocks on the internet. “Isn’t it like a sports thing?”

“Well, actually,” Clubs said in an informative tone of voice. “It’s a serious brain injury.”

“You listening to your fortnite buddies again?”

“No, we learned that in junior high.”

Hah. School. Lameass. Kokichi never needed school. Who needs school when you have google, video games, and anime?

“I’m a serious brain injury already, I think I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t be, you could die.” Spades was on her phone, probably looking up italian pharmacies.

That would be fine too. Haha. What a good… A good joke… brain…

“I’m just woozy. I need… like a gelato. We’re getting gelato. We gotta wait for the rest of the gang so we can get gelato.”

“No, I texted them, they can all fit in the other car, you need medical attention.

Kokichi frowned. “There’s seven of them. That car’s a five seater.”

“We’re clowns boss.”

Right. Clowns.... Clowns…. Horses.

“Sis, don’t you think we should wait for King? He’s got his nurse certification, so he should be the one to help with injuries.”

Horses?

“No, this is a different kind of thing Clubs, with head injuries you have to act fast. King can catch up to us with the rest.”

Why weren’t there clown horses?

“Boss, don’t fall asleep. Clubs, make sure he stays awake. See if you can find concussion tests online” She handed her brother her phone.

Kokichi imagined a horse in clown makeup… they’d have to make it a real big red nose. Juicy like gelato…

“Boss, stay with us.”

“Only if we’re going to get… get gelato.” --- Shuichi Saihara was still in police custody, locked alone in one of the back rooms of the fashion week venue and wrestling with his own inadequacy, as he often did, when Agent Ishimaru arrived. He was holding a briefcase.

The interpol agent usually announced himself loudly to whatever room he was in, but today he entered quietly, closing the door in that stiff way of his before sitting down at the interrogation table across from Shuichi.

Shuichi expected him to start yelling again.

He didn’t.

Instead he said, “Mr. Saihara. I am disappointed to see you here.”

“... I am too.” Shuichi said after a moment’s pause. “I almost caught the thief today.”

Kiyotaka looked like he was about to say something along the lines of a reprimand, but he paused and took a breath instead. “Perhaps… perhaps you did.”

Shuichi was still trying to piece this together. Was Kiyotaka mad at him or not?

“But, Mr. Saihara, I would ask you to consider…” He paused. He put the briefcase on the table, but didn’t open it. “That it is not your job to catch this thief.”

Shuichi felt indignant at that. But clearly Kiyotaka was going somewhere with this. “... as a detective, I often find it is my job to solve crimes.”

“You-” Kiyotaka grimaced. “I must apologize, Mr. Saihara, for speaking so obtusely. Yet there are some matters of rule violation recently brought to my attention that require me to handle this situation with a delicacy I am not known for.”

Oh… was this about…

“Just tell me the truth.” Shuichi said.

Kiyotaka took another breath.

“Shuichi Saihara, it has recently aggrieved me to know that you have recently been impersonating an interpol officer at crime scenes involving the DICE cases to further your vigilante investigations. Is this true?”

Vigilante was a little harsh…

“Yes.” Shuichi replied honestly. “I have been asking local law enforcement for access to flight records and airport security information in order to track down DICE--” Kiyotaka visibly tensed at this admission, but Shuichi kept going, “--but I sent every piece of info I’ve uncovered to your team. I know that it’s against your protocol to respond to them, but I’ve been right every time and-”

“And to some that could be very suspicious.” Ishimaru finished for him.

Shuichi grew wary. “What do you mean?” He asked.

Ishimaru sighed. “Do you know the name Kyosuke Munakata?”

“Yes.” Shuichi replied. “Isn’t he the new Secretary General?”

“Yes. The officer in charge of our day-to-day practice. He is my direct superior.” Ishimaru began opening the suitcase, which had two simple latches sealing it shut. He took out a small white envelope and handed it to Shuichi. “This is from him.”

Shuichi took the envelope and looked it over. There was no address on the outside, or stamp, or anything really. Just a foil laminate seal, with two characters interlaced stylistically in it. “未” and “来.” Future.

“You do not need to open it here.” Ishimaru went on. “But I can tell you what it says, if you want.”

Shuichi set the letter down on the table, “What does it say?” he asked.

“If what my superior has told me is to be believed, it is an offer of employment.”

What.

His disbelief must have shown on his face, because when Ishimaru kept going he acknowledged, “I was just about as surprised as you. To see my superior want to reward a rule breaker such as yourself… but then he explained it to me like this. He said, ‘If that young man was able to use our resources to such consistent efficiency, then he should see no problem with transparently putting his methods towards our cause. But if he is not so transparent and refuses our offer, well then we have reason to suspect his intent in this case.’”

Shuichi blinked. Really?

“You’re saying that… the Secretary General suspects that I’m in league with DICE.”

“That is correct.”

"But I-"

"Frankly I do not agree with Secretary General Munakata's deduction."

That was… some relief at least.

"I think that you will refuse this opportunity because, despite your tendency to believe the law does not apply to you simply because you don't believe in it, you are a good detective."

That was… not not where Shuichi thought that sentence would go.

Ishimaru pulled a chunky manilla folder out of the briefcase next. And then another one. And another. And… yeah he ended up pulling out five overflowing manilla folders.

"Do you know what this is?"

"... No."

"This is a print out of the files we have on you."

"What?" They had files? About him? What was he, an international security threat?

Oh… Maybe that was what Ishimaru had just finished telling him wasn’t it...

"Each of these files is a year since you joined the Towa city police force." Ishimaru gestured towards two slightly thicker files. "And these are the two years after you quit." He riffled the papers coming out of the side of one of the folders with his thumb. "Each packet of paper in these outlines a specific contribution you have made to getting a case solved. Everything from missing kids to the Novoselic Diamond case."

Oy vey...

"There's about forty or so cases in each of these files. That means you solve, on average, forty cases in a year. That's about three cases every month."

That wasn't so much. It wasn’t uncommon for Shuichi to be looking into more than one case at once. Except this month…

"This month you've solved zero cases.” Ishimaru seemed to read Shuichi’s mind, but the statistics hit him like a knife to the chest when read aloud. “You've been too busy doing what? Chasing a troupe of clowns who nab the occasional toilet or light fixture?"

… ouch.

"I don't mean to be harsh, Mr. Saihara, I really don't. You'll have to forgive my tone. But these DICE guys simply aren't worth your time. A month spent chasing them is a month you could use to much better effect on a different case. One involving the safety of children or national treasures, rather than the carpets of closing museums."

Ishimaru paused, letting Shuichi absorb what he just said. Then he started placing the folders back in the briefcase.

"So, Mr. Saihara, I think that I may be able to get my superior off your back, but only under two conditions."

He closed the lid of the case.

"The first being that you reveal to us in detail whatever method you have used to divine DICE's machinations from airport documents."

He closed the latch on the right of the briefcase.

"And the second being that you return home effective immediately and cut all ties with this case."

He closed the latch on the left.

"Do you find issue with these terms?"

His usually active hands found a resting place atop the case.

“...”

“Well?”

Shuichi couldn't quite understand how he had gotten here. In his head, until this moment, it really had seemed like he had been doing the right thing. He remembered that when he first latched onto the DICE case he had managed to keep it on the back burner while he dealt with the cases of clients. It had struck him as odd that a string of high scale robberies such as theirs would go unchecked for so long, going back five years or more. It hinted, to him at least, at a missing factor. Perhaps each hit was a calculated strike paid for by a foreign government, or a scheme funded by an underground criminal organization, or perhaps just another play at developing a network of untraceable capital to benefit a small group of people. Yet when was the last time Shuichi had spent any serious time looking into those connections?

It occured to Shuichi, then, that perhaps his ego was behind the wheel of the past month or so, when he'd spent the majority of his time exclusively tracking down DICE. Instead of actually assessing the threat that DICE posed, if any at all, he wasted time tracking down where they would strike next. To do what, catch them in the act? He didn't have the power to arrest them if he did. Even now, when he was closer than ever, all he had done was worsen his already tenuous relationship with the international police. The only plausible motive behind his own actions was that he investigated DICE simply because he knew that he could and he thought that he could do it better than anyone else.

But that wasn't true, was it?

He might think he was especially clever, but as soon as he revealed his methods that special cleverness would run out.

And he was tired, wasn't he? His head was perpetually sore, his eye sockets ached, and his limbs were weighed down by a the familiar slowness of a confused circadian rhythm anytime he didn't have a cup of coffee in his hand.

What Ishimaru had just done with the case files felt like an intervention. Like when TV nutritionists would show someone how many Coca-Colas they drank a month by building a tower of cans or filling a swimming pool with them in order to stop that person from drinking so many Coca-Colas… except Shuichi's Coca-Colas were investigative contributions to criminal offenses.

Maki had been right. He needed a break from this case. What kind of detective was he anyway…

Shuichi swallowed the lump forming in his throat and started talking.

"Well the only thing from the airport you need are logs of ticket purchases and the security footage from the gates if those aren't enough. DICE is an organization of ten people, so you're always looking for a bulk purchase of 9 to 10 tickets at the same time, although they can be from different airports... It doesn't matter who the tickets are purchased by or what identities are attributed to them, only that they're purchased at the same time. I say 9 or 10 tickets because sometimes DICE members will infiltrate the flight crew."

"Like in Paris."

"Like in Paris." Shuichi confirmed. "From there you can essentially pin down what flight they're on. Then you can figure out the general vicinity of the next crime… and I think from there is mostly luck."

"I don't believe in luck.” Ishimaru pressed on. “I believe in hard work. I think the same can be said for you."

Haha. Maybe.

Shuichi was hard pressed to think of anything that wasn’t already pretty obvious, though.

"... I suppose if you really cared to, I would think up all the possible targets after some preliminary research and try to warn them. You probably know this already… but DICE's targets have a trend of being rather famous or rather high security locations in big cities. Honestly, though, a lot of my encounters with them were due to chance."

He really wasn’t lying about that. The Paris, Taipei, and Cairo encounters were essentially pure coincidence.

Ishimaru paused, seemingly weighing this information for any fraudulence in his head. Then, he simply nodded. "Very well, Mr. Saihara. Thank you for cooperating with our investigation."

The agent stood, picking up his briefcase. "I hear that you've already given your testimony to the Italian authorities. In truth, however, we expect this case to be wrapped up shortly regardless of the details of this particular robbery, considering the substantial forensic evidence left by the perpetrator of these crimes." That was one way to refer to a pool of blood on the bathroom floor... "Is this of any consolation to you?"

"Yes, some." Shuichi felt the untruth of the statement even as he said it. It wasn’t how he would run the case, if he were in charge. Blood tests were highly unreliable for tracking down a criminal that could be from anywhere in the world, especially in a contaminated place like a bathroom. And if that criminal has never been taken into police custody or gotten blood work done before then the test would be completely useless. As a detective, he’d want to do his due diligence at the crime scene anyway…

… But this wasn’t his case anymore, was it?

Ishimaru took him at his word.

"Very well," He said.

The man pulled out of his pocket a phone, which Shuichi realized to be his own, and handed it to him.

"Your coat and other confiscated items are outside. Feel free to leave at any time."

Ishimaru did a quick bow in lieu of a verbal farewell, leaving the room in an orderly fashion.

After the door shut, Shuichi was in silence again.

He turned on his phone. As the screen lit up, he was greeted by a few messages from Kaito. He remembered, guiltily, swiping them aside when he had taken out his phone before his confrontation with DICE.

Now, he opened them. --- [Log of Text Messages from Shuichi Saihara’s Cellular Device]

From: Kaito

Hey Shuichi

How’s it going man

From: Kaito

Are you like chasing clowns right now

Text me when you’re not chasing clowns down

From: Me

I am no longer in the career of chasing clowns down

From: Kaito

Oh shit for real??

Did you catch them?

From: Me

I was just asked not to try to catch them

Very politely

By interpol

From: Kaito

Haha

That’s my sidekick

Making the international police scared for their jobs every day of the week

From: Me

That’s a funny way to look at it...

From: Kaito

Hey don’t be blue about it Shuichi

You got off the clown catching clock at a good time

If you catch a flight home sometime this week you could come with us to the open house at JAXA on friday!

From: Me

Oh is that this friday?

Man I totally

Spaced

On that

From: Kaito

Aklsjdfasflkdj

Since when do you do puns

From: Me

I would be fine if you deleted those messages actually

From: Kaito

Too late I already sent that to Maki

From: Me

:( rude

From: Kaito

She says she’s disappointed in both of us now lol

From: Me

Haha that sounds like Maki

why would she be disappointed in you tho lol

From: Kaito

There might be something I forgot to tell you

From: Me

What?

From: Kaito

Do you remember when we were in DC

I had to go to NASA (america’s JAXA basically) and meet with some people

And then I told you I had to tell you something over steak dinner

But then you had to tell me you said you wanted to do a “stake out” not “go out for steak”

And we kind of forgot about it

From: Me

Oh uh

Vaguely?

From: Kaito

Well

The thing i was going to tell you and then forgot to tell you

Is that I’m going on my first mission next week

From: Me

A space mission

From: Kaito

Yeah

Just to the ISS though

I’m gonna be running experiments in the kibo module

For a few months

Maybe a year

From: Me

You’re leaving next week?

How long have you known?

From: Kaito

Like, a few months

From: Me

From: Kaito

Haha yeah

Kinda forgot to tell you

Thats on me

From: Me

Its fine

From: Kaito

Phew glad i got that off my chest

Can you believe Maki Roll thought you’d be mad at me?

From: Me

Haha what

No its fine

Everything’s cool --- [Log of Text Messages from Shuichi Saihara’s Cellular Device]

From: Me

What the hell???

From: Maki

I know right???? --- Shuichi put down his phone, feeling like a plate on a table that just got the table cloth pulled from beneath it and yet some how found itself shockingly sedentary. He internally recalculated his schedule. He'd need to get on the next plane to Japan as fast as he could.

He opened the door. The lights outside the holding room seemed to have been taken as well. There was an officer with a flashlight who helped him grab his stuff.

Weirdly, on the way out, Shuichi looked back through the little window in the door to the holding room. The lights had gone out in it as well. Wait… wasn't there a vent in that room too?

As soon as the thought occurred to Shuichi he forcefully extinguished it.

Not my case. He reminded himself.

Then he turned, nodded to the officer, and walked out the door. --- Kokichi Ouma sat in the back seat of one of DICE's get away cars with a fresh bandage wrap on his head, slurping street vendor Gelato and trying to convince himself this was another win. Sure, the heist went well. Rook, King, and Queen had been on vent duty with him and had managed to sweep up his unfinished light fixture nabbing route. They were actually about to pick Rook up from the final rendezvous point right that second.

Which brought Kokichi to the discrepancies indicating he may be suffering a loss here.

For starters, no one was smiling. They had just pulled off a major haul and nobody was happy about it. Kokichi thought that if he got into the car where no one had seen him go splat from ceiling to floor he wouldn't have to deal with this, but Queen, King, and Bishop were really out here acting like he had died or something. He didn't even have a concussion! They did all the tests! King checked him out like forty times, he just cut himself on the edge of the broken vent!

But Bishop was stone faced behind the wheel and Queen kept pausing the tikkertap of his fingers on the keyboard to look back at Kokichi. Even King was just sitting there trying not to stare at him. Kokichi could tell he was worrying about him because if King wasn't worrying about him then he would be texting Rook. Those two were insufferable. Did he say insufferable? He meant inseparable. Like they always say next to each other when they could and texted each other the entire time they couldn't. If King was texting them it meant he was looking for emotional support because he was worrying about Kokichi but thought that he should try and make sure Kokichi didn’t know he was worrying about him, which was annoying as hell.

They weren't looking at him like their boss right now, they were looking at him like their kid brother.

He tried not to let that turn his stomach. He had gelato left to put in there, after all.

Ok, them thinking he was weak for bleeding out wasn’t the only option here. Maybe they were just antsy to be done with this heist.

Kokichi couldn’t really argue with that sentiment, though. Not because this one was a trash fire, even though it kind of was, but because he wanted to get onto the next one. Once they picked up Rook, they could figure out where they were going next and Kokichi would have another chance to match wits with the detective. With Kokichi's big screw up today it had only been due to Spades and Clubs's intervention that he hadn't gotten caught. Saihara was right on his tail and Kokichi still had no idea how he was doing it. It was like a puzzle, like an actually hard one. Kokichi spent a few moments thinking up possible methods, crossing out a few, and sorting the rest of them into piles based on likelihood in his head.

He only realized he had been silently spacing out for six minutes when the car stopped. He heard the trunk open and close

King scooted over into the middle seat and Rook came in to sit on the right hand side behind Queen. Kokichi thought about that for a second, because King had automatically assumed that he should be the one to move to the middle seat. Did it speak to Kokichi’s authority that it wasn’t even a consideration that he should move over to let Rook into the car, or did it speak to their interpretation of his fragility? Well, Kokichi was never asked to move over in the back seat. Then again, he usually sat in the front. Wait, wasn’t he in the seat behind the driver? There was a gif set online somewhere where two white guys are in a car and one explains to the other how the seat behind the driver’s is the safest seat in the car. Had everyone subconsciously thought of that gif set when they sat down in the car? Or were they merely following a pattern of behavior because Kokichi was never asked to move over when someone got in the car. In fact he was never asked to move over at all, not even when he was taking up a lot of space on the couch. Again, that could be a sign of his inherent authority. Except maybe it didn’t mean anything because DICE members asked each other to move over as a sign of antagonism and they just didn’t antagonize him like that. Were they afraid of him? Or maybe King just scooted over because Rook was coming in on his side-

Wait, rewind. Were they afraid of him?

Kokichi rethought the silence that had encompassed their ride thus far. Now that he reconsidered, the silence had almost seemed anticipatory, as if something were weighing on their minds more pressing than fresh banter or celebration. He had thought they were just anxious to finish off the operation, but now that Rook had stowed the goods and was safely in the car, the tense anticipation of something to come still hung heavy in the air.

As the car started back up, Kokichi noticed Rook and King exchange a glance. Bishop checked the rear view window at a suspicious angle. Rook’s hand went over the shoulder of the passenger seat, obviously palming something they were handing to Queen.

Kokichi spun a wheel in his head. Get out of the car? Confront them? Change the topic? Make them feel so bad for him they have to drop everything? Strike fear into their hearts of what his reaction would be towards untoward news? Maybe he should do a food crime to make them realize he was fine? Except he had finished his gelato, so what was he supposed to do? Eat the paper cup his gelato was-

Oh, oops.

While Kokichi had been considering what to do, it turned out he had also been methodically folding the finished gelato cup in his hands. Now, it was in his mouth.

Wow, he hadn’t thought this out, huh? He was trying to look less like a person with brain damage, not more . Well, too late to take the paper out of his mouth, he had already committed to the bit.

Kokichi pretended not to notice that everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch him with dawning horror as he chewed the former bowl to pulp in his mouth. It still tasted a little chocolatey. Mostly in an unsatisfying way, though. You know how when you eat the last bit off your spoon and you end up tasting mostly the spoon which just leaves you wishing you had more ice cream and it leaves a bad taste in your mouth. Except instead of a spoon it was this paper bowl. He felt the fibers dampen and rip apart under his teeth. The gnashing filled the car with sound.

Then he swallowed.

The car was once more filled with a petrified silence, this time on Kokichi’s terms.

“You four have been scheming behind my back.” He announced, emptying the car of silence with the sound of his voice.

At Kokichi’s words, everyone in the car flinched into an avoidant position. Bishop took the car out of park and started driving, Queen went back to typing on his computer, and King leaned as far away as he could from Kokichi without unbuckling.

Rook was the last player standing and braved looking Kokichi in the eyes.

“Uh. So.” They started roughly. “We just thought that….”

“I knew what you thought as soon as you volunteered for the last rendezvous point this morning.” Kokichi interrupted, bluffing wildly, “Just show me what you got out of it.”

“Just one sec, boss I’m uploading it to the computer.” Queen muttered, probably dragging around files from the SD card Rook had handed him. When he finally did turn the laptop around to show Kokichi, an audio player was open. He also noted on the task bar that file explorer,

Mozilla Firefox, and Fieldwire were open but minimized.

Kokichi grabbed the computer and put it in his lap before pressing play.

“Well the only thing from the airport you need are logs of ticket purchases and the security footage from the gates if those aren’t enough.” It took Kokichi a couple seconds to recognize the voice. “DICE is an organization of ten people, so you're always looking for a bulk purchase of 9 to 10 tickets at the same time, although they can be from different airports... ”

Kokichi opened Fieldwire. It was the program that DICE used to share blueprints with one another. Queen had started a new project that had been shared only with Bishop. He opened it.

“It doesn't matter who the tickets are purchased by or what identities are attributed to them, only that they're purchased at the same time.”

It took Kokichi a few moments to figure out what exactly he was looking at.

“I say 9 or 10 tickets because sometimes DICE members will infiltrate the flight crew.”

They were blueprints for a plane.

“Like in Paris” A new voice cut into the recording.

“Like in Paris” Shuichi replied.

There was a minute left on the recording. That was how long Kokichi had to figure out what the hell was going on here and what his response should be.

Detective Saihara using information from airports had been a possibility that crossed his mind before, but Kokichi hadn’t highlighted it any more than his other theories, which ranged from secret spy gear, to omniscience, or to just plain old random chance.

Obviously the same could not be said for those of his cohort. They had suspected public air transport was the root cause of their encounters with the Detective long enough for Queen to draw up these blueprints and recruit Rook to bring evidence for some sort of pitch they were planning.

They had figured the detective out before him.

Kokichi had thought of the detective’s successes as challenges, exciting roadside attractions to disrupt an otherwise monotonous road trip through life. How had he not stopped himself even once during the past month to ask himself how they looked to the rest of DICE? To his subordinates, Saihara’s successes seemed less like fun interruptions and more like real obstacles towards goals they all commonly held. In other words, setbacks revealing failures in Kokichi’s plans.

The worst thing was that Kokichi wanted to be angry at these four for this intervention bullshit. Angry that they took away some bit of mystery solving fun from him. Angry that they wanted to take away something that he had felt good about. Angry that they were undermining his authority by going behind his back.

But he wasn’t going to be angry. It was a stupid, pointless thing, his anger.

Being a supreme leader of ultimate evil isn’t all tulips and tirades. Everything Kokichi did needed to have a purpose, because he knew that DICE were always watching him, looking to him, making judgements and changing their perceptions of him in their minds.

What would being angry here accomplish? It would only strengthen their impression of his sudden unreasonableness. Even if he explained his motives, they didn’t hold up very well upon inspection. What was that Boss? You’re so bored by us that you feel the need to endanger us by playing mind games with a boot licking private eye while we do all the work? Oh yeah, we totally understand. Wait right there while we never fully trust you with anything ever again.

If anything DICE had a right to be angry at him. What had he been doing these past few weeks? How had they figured out this plane thing before him?

Was there some part of him that was actively sabotaging himself? A part that wanted him to fail just for the thrill of it? Maybe he had known how Saihara was really tracking them, but had just ignored the obvious answer because he didn’t want the mystery to be over yet.

How could his friends trust him if he didn’t even trust himself?

Kokichi had ten seconds to wrap up this train of thought before the recording was finished. No more questions, only answers, lets go.

The plans for the airplane were by all means exactly what DICE would be looking for in a plane. It was small enough as to not require a massive amount of runway space but large enough to house everyone comfortably. There were some rather intricate illustrations of those convertible mechanisms that Queen had gotten really into earlier that year. How long had he been planning thi- no questions. Fold out tables, couches, a TV, things that could turn a vehicle into an on the go hideout in the blink of an eye. Kokichi estimated the total cost of everything to come out to around ¥1,190,401,200. Which is. A lot of money. But most of that money would probably be for the engine, which if you buy legally would be around a billion yen. If he factored out buying legally, the rest of the blueprint would probably cost around ¥1,081,200, a much lower figure. Renting a hangar would cost a little less, but that price was more flexible depending on what Bishop said their monthly earnings were.

Kokichi googled ‘Japan Aerospace.’ He was in luck, the first thing that popped up was an article about a new JAXA mission.

The recording stopped.

Showtime.

Kokichi let them breathe in the silence a bit.

Then, when they were good and nervous, he enacted his plan.

“Bishop, tell Queen how much we earned this month.” He requested calmly.

Bishop replied readily, “About ¥2,000,000, Boss!”

Whoa. What? Were they really making that much a month? Kokichi supposed they had been robbing high security locales on a weekly basis, but somehow he had still viewed their team as barely scraping by. What was even the point of the heists anymore if they-

No time for questions, Kokichi had to use that figure right now.

“Do you know what that figure means, Queen?” Kokichi asked, knowing that Queen never thought about the monetary cost of his projects for more than three seconds.

“Uh… Money?” Yeah, okay, Kokichi needed to remember not to target Queen too much, even though he seemed to be the ringleader of this insurrection. That would only serve to force the other members of DICE to pick a side, which was not the ideal dynamic of a ten person group.

“It’s exactly how much money we would need to rent a hangar and build an airplane covertly in Kagoshima next month.” Kokichi clarified.

“... Uh boss,” Bishop interrupted hesitantly, “I hate to contradict you there, but most airplanes would cost a hundred times that-” “I’m not talking about how much it would take to build most airplanes.” Kokichi interrupted the interruption he had expected to occur. “I’m talking about how much it would take us to build an airplane.”

Kokichi then turned the laptop back around to show Queen the article about the manned launch to the ISS happening next week. He scrolled down to a picture of the engine taken at the launch site in Tanegashima. When Queen’s eyes lit up and King let out a sigh of relief, Kokichi knew that he had gotten away with it.

He managed to play off this whole month-long debacle as a waiting game, pretending that he had the very same understanding and intentions as the rest of them since the start of the month.

They’d get on different planes, booked at different times to the international airports in Tokyo, and then ship out to the JAXA launch site on Tanegashima, fuck things up a little and steal some rocket level engines. And Kokichi would stuff down the emptiness that curled in his gut at the lost prospect of a very interesting adversary.

… empty, huh?

Why would cutting his losses make him feel empty? Why-

No questions.

…

He should get some more gelato. Things were good when he was eating gelato.

#shuichi x kokichi #shuichi saihara #shuichi danganronpa #kokichi ouma #kokichi danganronpa #oumasai #saiouma #fanfiction #Phantom Thief AU #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #writing #im gay lol

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ronyxfic · 5 years

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Educating the Victim - Act VI, Chapter XXXVI

Pairing: Rose Quartz/Pearl, Rose/Greg

Rating: Mature

Warnings/Tags: none for this chapter

CHAPTER 36: Getting on

Pearl leaned back against the wall, relieved at some privacy. She carefully rolled up the leg of her trousers so she could assess the damage to her knee.

It wasn’t really telling. All she knew that it looked... normal? Did all knees look this wonky all the time? She couldn’t quite tell. But she was in pain, and it hurt more if she tried to move.

She sighed.

The candle next to her flickered again, and this time, there was no gust of wind. Pearl frowned, and then noticed to her dismay that the wick had nearly burned down; the candle was about to die, and Greg hadn’t left another one.

Well, she still had her lighter. And her phone. It was okay.

Greg padded to the edge of the neighbourhood, the next door flat appeared dark, too. His face fell as he realised the spot where the neighbours usually kept their car was vacant.

His fears were confirmed as he knocked the door, his knuckles stung as he received no answer.

"Dang. Guess I gotta make it to the other house nearby." He glanced over his shoulder and sighed as he realised he had to walk around the culdesac to get there. "Hold on, Pearl."

Back in the basement, the candle went out with a soft hiss, leaving Pearl in the dark.

She was fairly sure she’d never been in any place this dark before. She could see absolutely nothing. Her fingers were clutched around the lighter, and she fumbled in the dark.

“Ouch!”

The flame had licked her hand. “Fuck,” Pearl hissed. Well, at least she could see now. Somewhat.

Her finger was hurting, her knee was hurting. “This just keeps getting better,” she muttered to herself.

It had been a few minutes since Greg left. Pearl tried to move her leg once more – maybe she could get herself back up the stairs, where it wasn’t so suspiciously quiet and dark.

She nearly shrieked when a large shadow crossed the lighter’s flicker. Fuck, what was that? She looked around frantically, and in her panic dropped the lighter. It snapped shut, leaving her completely in the dark.

“Oh no, no no no...”

She fumbled around, found it with her fingertips, but then managed to push it away, out of reach.

She sat still for a moment, and then remembered she still had her phone. Surely that should last her until Greg came back.

It was on 2%, which was less than she’d hoped for.

Greg speedwalked to the edge of the road and slumped his shoulders as he realised the lights at his destination were off, too. As were all the ones he could now see in the distance. "That ain't good." The wind had blown his candle, too, and the lack of streetlights made it more spooky than usual. He swallowed and turned back in defeat. They'd just have to wait this out.

Pearl had barely managed to get a text out to Amethyst when her phone buzzed and shut down.

She let it slide out of her fingers, unable to hold back her tears anymore. Greg wasn’t back, and who was to say he was going to come back at all? What if he’d been hit by a car, and she was just going to rot down here? What if he decided she was too much, and had retreated to his van?

And what if her leg was actually broken, and she would have to go back into hospital? What if she wouldn’t be able to walk ever again? Would anyone even care? Would she be able to go to university? Or maybe whatever threw that shadow earlier was going to kill her here and now, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about any of that ever again –

She sobbed into her good knee, hoping and praying that at least maybe Greg would be back soon.

Greg paced back, looking around as he tried to remember to retrace his steps. This part of the neighbourhood was damningly alien to him. As he reached the door, he looked at his candle and frowned. How would he get to the basement without light? Pearl had the lighter, after all.

He sighed and turned back to the neighbourhood again, looking for a door to knock on for assistance.

A small noise got Pearl’s attention. Something was rustling, and it sounded like it was close.

She remembered the shadow passing the light earlier, and shivered.

It’s nothing, it’s nothing, there’s nothing here.

She sat, frozen, trying to stifle her sobs as she heard her heart beat in her ears and listened intently for the noise she’d just heard.

Greg had managed to attain a small flashlight from a house on the opposing street and was making his way back, rummaging his pockets for keys.

His throat went dry as he reached the front door. He'd left them on the table inside. A small, annoyed scream escaped him.

Pearl meanwhile was still holding her breath as the rustling happened again. It sounded closer this time. Her heart sped up, and she could barely choke back her sobs.

I’m gonna die down here.

And then,

Nobody’s even gonna notice or care. Everyone hates me anyway.

Greg tried to pound on the door but sighed in defeat as he realised that Pearl was hardly in a position to help him, anyway.

He took a few steps and looked around at the fence that obstructed his access to the garden. The back door might've been left unlocked, they often did so to allow Lion access into the house whenever he went into the shared garden.

Pearl could barely hear the pounding on the door over her sobs. Her shaking fingers found her phone, and she barely managed to press the power button, breathing a soft sigh of relief when it started up.

But it only stayed on for about five seconds before showing the low battery alarm and shutting down again, sending Pearl into another round of sobs.

Greg climbed over the fence, hissing as parts of it pricked at his skin and clothes. Crashing on the garden on the other side felt disorienting and painful as his thud echoed in the night. He dusted himself off and tried to find his way to the back door.

Which was also locked. He pulled his palms into fists and growled at the night sky before pausing as he swore he heard a faint cry.

"Pearl? You there?"

That, Pearl heard.

“Greg!” He was back, he hadn’t abandoned her –

He didn’t sound like he was in the house, though. “Wh-where are you?”

There was no point hiding the fact she was crying.

"In the back yard. You're... Oh yeah! The basement!" He tried to come closer to where he heard her voice. "It's got that little window that hooks up to the garden. It's open!" He tapped at the glass. "I got locked out. Of all nights to happen, huh?"

“Fuck.” Pearl leaned back. “Well, at least you’re here. I’m completely in the dark. I lost the lighter and my phone ran out of battery.”

"Oh Jesus, and here I thought I left you all safe. Alright, I'm gonna climb in through the window. I think it should be safe."

“Are you sure?” Pearl’s voice was shaky. “We can’t really deal with both of us being injured.”

"We can bond in the ER together." He said as he opened the window further and peered in, grimacing. The drop looked bigger from his position, and he swore he saw something at the bottom, but the lighting obscured his vision too much.

“Be careful, Greg!” Pearl shrieked as an almighty crash told her Greg had gone through the window.

A couple seconds passed. "Ouch..." he groaned, but Greg picked himself up. "Nothing like a paint bucket to break your fall. I'm okay. Now where's your lighter gone?"

“I... just out of reach... over there.” Pearl pointed. “Do you have your phone?”

"It doesn't emit a lot of light." He held out his brick phone. "Oh, I think I got it here. Nearly crunched it." He lit it up and held it to his candle and looked at Pearl. "Now what got you so riled up?"

Pearl looked away, trying to hide from the sudden light. “S...sorry,” she said, “it was just... really dark and kind of spooky and I’m in pain. It’s... it’s okay, though.”

It all seemed silly now, now that Greg was here and there was light.

He sat down bedside her. "Entire neighbourhood is down. Looks like it won't matter until it gets fixed. Do you want me to call someone for your leg?"

Pearl sighed. “It’s done this before. It’s usually okay after a while. Though I guess some ice might be nice. Do you think Rose keeps a freezer down here?”

"She does indeed." He gathered himself up and went to the freezer, tucked in the corner. "An ice pack, coming right up!"

Pearl almost smiled. Her tears were still drying on her cheeks. “I bet this wasn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted to spend time with me,” she joked, half-heartedly.

"Yeah, well, at least you're not running away from me." He handed her the pack. "I don't bite, you know."

Pearl took the ice pack and rested it on her knee, sighing with immediate relief. “That’s a bit better,” she said. “Um, yeah. Uh. Sorry about that.”

"What's the deal with that? You know that we can just be friends, right?"

Pearl’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I just feel... awkward,” she said. “I mean, with Rose, and everything.” She gave a short laugh, embarrassed. “It doesn’t help that Rose has apparently told you all about me, and yet I know barely anything about you. But I guess that’s just cus I never asked.”

"I'm an open book, I'm sure you can. But it's okay if you don't care, I get that it's difficult." He sighed. "If anything, Rose just tends to tell me things when I ask her how her day's been and sometimes I need a lil context for that. I'm sorry things went the way they did between you two."

“It’s just all... weird now,” Pearl said. “I mean, she’s still my teacher, right? And we’re not, like, in a relationship, but it’s weird to think that we... could be. Like, after I finish school.” She hesitated. “I’m not all that sure I want to be.”

"Well. That's up to you two to figure out. I'm just worried about her still being able to work, that stuff from before made her so stressed. Rose was really struggling." His voice was soft, forlorn for a second. "You're still young, too. There's so much that you're going learn and grow between now and her age. It's easy to love Rose, I mean, I know I do. But you probably wanna make sure you really consider it all."

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve got my exams and stuff as well. I shouldn’t really be making my relationships a priority at this point.” Pearl’s shoulders slumped.

"Sounds like that's difficult for you." Greg sat down beside her, lighting another candle. "Do you get scared of being alone, like, if you're not dating someone?"

“I guess. And scared if I’m interested in someone, that they’re going to leave.” She sighed. “And scared that they’ll love someone else more than me. Like... Rose. With you. I guess that’s why I was avoiding you.”

"Rose never loved me more than you, Pearl." Greg found the courage to lightly touch her shoulder. "Just differently. Circumstances were tough on you both, too."

“That’s... good to know, I guess. Although I regret causing her so much stress.” Pearl sighed. “I can’t believe I nearly got her fired. That wasn’t okay.”

"No, it really wasn't. I mean, it's a complex thing. She messed up by overstepping her boundaries as a teacher, too, and that was her responsibility. It's just a miracle she's been able to keep her job." Greg sighed. "If it's worth anything, she said she's never going to date another student again."

“Well, that’s... good, I guess.” Pearl frowned. “I don’t know how to feel about that. I mean, it’s her dumb tendency to get too close to students that got us into this in the first place. But also... I really don’t know where I’d be if she hadn’t gotten involved. I might not even be around anymore.”

"I'm sure she knows how grateful you are. She just wanted you to be okay. I don't think she's ever going to stop trying to help people, but I think her learning from this is important, too."

“Yeah.” Pearl sighed. “Well, anyway. I know like nothing about you. How did you meet her?”

"I was busking back when I was living in my truck. She found me and we hit it off, and I got a place to crash at." Greg smiled, a look of warm gratitude in his eyes, illuminated by candlelight. "First truly healthy relationship I ever had."

“You were... homeless,” Pearl said softly. “I guess that explains why you moved in so quickly. She’s... she’s amazing, isn’t she.”

"I kept telling her to trust me a little less! Who knows what I could've been? Sometimes I get the feeling she trusts too much." Greg looked at her. "Too easily, yanno?"

“Yeah, I suppose. I feel like I manipulated her a lot, even though I probably didn’t mean it. I’m glad she’s so trusting, though. There’s not a lot of people like that.”

Pearl tried to move. “Ugh, my leg is still really sore. I kind of want to get out of this basement, though.”

"I can still help you up these stairs if you'll let me carry you." He offered, looking at the swelling on her leg. "Doesn't look like I can get you out otherwise without calling emergency services."

“...I don’t want that, for all sorts of reasons.” Pearl swallowed. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

"Only if you're totally comfortable. I know we're not really friends, and that's okay, too. I just want to make sure you don't sleep in a grimy basement floor." He got up and looked at the candles. "I'll need light. Can you hold them?"

“I can try.” Pearl took one of the candles. “Maybe just one of them. Should we, uh, put out the others? Just in case whatever’s in here knocks them over and starts a fire or something.”

He tentatively put his arm around her torso, and then slid the other one as her body lifted off the floor. He tried to keep his touches conservative, mindful. "Got the candle?"

“Yeah, I got it.” Pearl was cradling it, careful not to let the wax spill. “This will be an adventure,” she said weakly. “Right, let’s get upstairs.”

Greg groaned as he pushed up with his legs and lifted Pearl up and took a few steps. "Good thing you're so light, huh?"

"Heh, yeah," Pearl said, smiling uneasily. "Think we can make it?"

"Should do. I just gotta make sure I keep all weight shifted on my front so we don't fall over backwards, but you're pretty secure." He began to wobble a bit from the strain as they slowly neared the midway point.

Pearl felt the wobble and held on to Greg tighter. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"We don't have much other choice," he replied. "I'm not leaving ya down there."

Pearl fell silent, clinging on for dear life. Not far now.

It was as if Greg could read her mind. "Just a couple more steps." He then took a sharp breath as his legs lurched and he caught himself before falling back. He stood still for a second, eyes wide, illuminated by candlelight.

Pearl let out a small shriek, then breathed heavily as Greg readjusted. "We ok?"

Greg nodded, feeling Pearl's terror as her fragile body breathed heavily. He began to hum gently as he steadied himself and took a cautious step up. Three left.

The humming was strangely calming. Pearl felt herself relaxing a little. We’re okay. It’s gonna be ok.

He was slower now, still humming as he brought her up, and soon only one step was left. "I'm going to put you down on the floor. I don't want to take risks. You okay with that?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Ready." Pearl gave him a nod.

He placed her down and breathed a sigh of relief, carefully stepping over her and opening the door. He leaned over. "Doing good?"

"Yeah, I think so." Pearl sat up, tried to move her leg. It was not as painful as it had been before. "Might be able to walk, if you help me."

"Sure. Can you get up on your own now?" he asked, bending down to offer support.

"Maybe." Pearl heaved, shifted her weight, tried to find something to hold on to.

"You can put your hand here." He gestured to his shoulder. "I'll support you."

Pearl grabbed his shoulder and somehow managed to hoist herself up onto her feet.

Well, foot. She tried putting weight onto her bad leg, still holding on to Greg's shoulder.

"Ouch."

He grabbed the candle, illuminating the corridor. "We just need to make it to the living room and you can sit on the sofa." The house was still pitch black. "Still sure you don't want me to call someone?"

"No, it'll be fine," Pearl said. "It's already better than it was." She shuffled along. "Reckon the electricity will be back soon?"

"God knows. I just hope it's at least before Rose comes back."

"Still, that could be weeks," Pearl said. "Do you know what she's up to, exactly? Is she still in hospital? I haven't heard much."

"No idea. I've got a real bad feeling about it all, though." He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, tell me about it. Aurora is still really freaked out about the whole thing."

"Oh, she's the one who bonked the principal?" he asked as they made it to the living room.

Pearl laughed. "Well, yeah. Though they're an official item now."

"Oh! Good for them." Greg pulled the throw off of the sofa and made a space for Pearl. "Do you think we should elevate it?"

Pearl moved her leg up onto the sofa. "Might be a good idea. It's still sore." She then glanced at Greg before quickly looking away. "Thank you," she said softly.

Greg gave a tired shrug as he fetched a few cushions to stack. "Just making sure you're okay. "

"I'll be fine." Pearl gave a sigh. "Uh, so, what now? We can't really... watch things or make food while the electricity is gone."

"Hm. Guess we could always have some cereal. That milk is gonna need to be used up quick if there ain't any refrigeration." Greg paused and then nearly stumbled backwards as the lights flickered twice and suddenly came back on. He winced from the sudden brightness. "Hey! Wouldya look at that?"

Pearl let out a surprised gasp, and then a relieved laugh. "Well, there we go," she said. "Let's hope it lasts."

Greg looked down at her leg. "Ooh man, yeah lemme get ice for that." He looked around the room. "I think you also wanted to charge your phone, yeah?"

"Please! Is there a charger down here?" Pearl sat slightly more upright. "Or I could see if I can make it up the stairs to get my charger from my room."

"I wouldn't move too much until we've iced that." Greg handed over a charger and a plug. "You don't wanna make it any worse."

"Ah, thanks." Pearl plugged in her dead phone. "I think it feels better already. You know, sometimes I think I'm just overly dramatic."

"Naw, I heard you scream and from what Rose said, it sounds like a reoccurring kind of injury. Happened to my leg after I broke it, it's been a while since it's been bad but I remember it. You should take it easy." He padded over to the kitchen. "I'll make us some tea."

"Thank you." Pearl sat and felt like she could breathe again now that the light was back on.

Another thing was different. She didn't feel the compulsive need to be alone in her room, away from Greg.

Huh.

"Did you say you had some boardgames or something?" she called out to Greg in the kitchen.

#steven universe #su fanfic #su pearl #su greg universe #gregrose #pearlrose #su human au #educating the victim #etv act 6 #illustrated #animated #will act 6 ever end?#we just dont know

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iknownothingihearnothing · 5 years

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Game of Thrones 8.4 “The Last of the Starks”

I. Am. MAD.

This...this week’s offering right here is an example of an episode I loved and loathed in equal measure. There were lovely moments of--

And then...then there were even more ones of--

Y’all know what I’m talking about. From Brienne’s heartbroken face to that motherfucking Northern stubbornness, to Missandei’s capture and death, to Jon still not knowing enough (he’s so naive), to Euron shooting poor Rhaegal out of the sky, to JON BEING A HORRIBLE WOLF-DADDY!

He just ABANDONED Ghost! Without even a pat goodbye! Even if he had to leave him, he could’ve at least spared a frigging goodbye. Yeah yeah budget blah blah. You couldn’t get an actual big, white, fluffy dog for the few seconds needed for Jon Snow to bid his wolfy buddy who RISKED HIS LIFE for him a proper farewell?!

I pet my dog and call him a good boy when he gets the ball and goes poop outside. You couldn’t spare more than a “laters, brah” nod to your poor puppy?!

LOOK HOW SAD HE IS!

I want to hug him and kiss him and snuggle him and tell him he’s the goodest boi in the North. Pawning him off to Tormund to live Beyond the Not Wall where he knows no one, what’s the matter with you, Jogon of House Snowaryen?!

Dany may be leaning a biiiiiit too far into her House Targaryen roots but at least she is a dedicated pet owner. We know she loves her...scale...babies? They have spines, right? Spine babies? Fire babies.

Ugh, let’s get into this week’s slice of sadness.

The episode opens with a massive funeral for those that died in the Battle of Winterfell. Including Jorah, Lyanna, Theon, Mr. Edd, and Beric, who is now definitely out of lives.

Dany, crying, leans over Jorah’s prone body, kisses his forehead, and whispers something we’ll never know into his ear.

At least, we’ll never know unless either Emilia or Iain decide to spill the deets. Iain Glen said in a post-ep interview with Entertainment Weekly that it was “something definitely profound”. But who knows, he could be bullshitting us and she actually said “I like muffins” or something and he had to lay there pretending to be dead.

On second thought, she’s English. So perhaps she prefers crumpets.

Sansa is sniffling over Theon’s body and places a House Stark pin in his shirt. Jon is looking out at this sea of corpses like--

There is no more Ol’ Nighty to bring them back.

Or so we’re led to believe.

The camera pans across the mourners and we catch a glimpse of our favorite furry friend.

He’s such a good, loyal doggo. Wolfo? Direwolfo.

Oh Jon I am so MAD AT YOU!

Saving my rage for a bit further down. Barely.

Jon gives a farewell speech about all their dead--they defended the realms of men, no one will ever see their like again, etc. etc.--and then some of the mourners who knew the dead best are given flaming branches in order to set the bodies alight. In the North, they burn their dead. I guess cus the ground is forever frozen and one day someone from House Whyrevr said fuck it and lit his dead grandma on fire.

Afterwards, they have a joint funeral/”glad we’re alive” party because of course they do. Kinda reminiscent of our shiva except people are sitting on chairs. At the head table, Jon is looking awkwardly at Dany--apparently, that whole “we’re technically related and oh you have a better claim to the throne than me” stuff has lingered beyond fighting for their lives. Damn. Not even surviving Team Undead’s invasion could get them out of that business.

Elsewhere, Gendry asks the Hound if he’s seen Arya. Does Robert’s bastard have a wee more on his mind than all the death? Like, say, his wee-wee?

Some things never change, no matter what century it is.

Gendry tries to stutter that it’s not about that but the Hound knows it is. Gendry’s alive and the dead are not. Might as well take ASS-vantage of it.

Eh? Eh?

Srsly, this is like the worst party in the history of Westeros. Uh, aside from the Red Wedding (but not the Purple one, #ByeJoflecia). They just buried burnt a heap of their dead, two of their hosts are keeping a huge secret from everyone (and being super weird around each other because of it), and Dany’s endlessly fighting against that frigging Northern hardheadedness. It’s not GREAT, Bob.

Speaking of that famous Northern jackassery, Dany sees an opportunity to crack that stubborn ice as Gendry crosses the party hall. Calling him over, she at first inquires about his parentage, asks him if he knows that Robert Baratheon kinda had her whole family killed and wanted to slaughter her as an infant. Gendry’s like “Whoa, did not know that he was my daddy until after he was dead” and Dany’s all “Yep he dead and so are Renly and Stannis so who’s Lord of Storm’s End?” and no one knows.

This is Dany’s chance to make good.

Not only did Gendry survive the battle, he got laid and made a lord!

You go, Glenn Coco, Gendry Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End!

Ser Davos, the onion knight (lol) leads the room in a toast to Gendry, the newest Lord on the block.

Don’t be fooled cus he’s now a Lord, he’s still he’s still Gendry from the Forge.

Tyrion remarks that now Gendry will forever be loyal to her and Dany says that he is not the only one that is clever.

Sansa, hearing this, looks at her like bats just sprouted from her head and flew out her ears while her eyes turned red as she chuckled evilly.

Oh, come on! This is what people in powerful positions on the show do. That’s how they secure allies without, you know, marrying their allies. You want someone’s loyalty, do something for them. Dany’s not the first one to try that. And it’s not like she had Drogon Dracarys the hell out of one of Gendry’s enemies to secure that loyalty. She made him a damn Lord.

The Starks are annoying me this season. Except when Arya laid the smacketh down on Ol’ Nighty.

In another corner, Jaime and Brienne are celebrating by gettin’ crunk. She offers a halfassed excuse but Jaime’s all “Dude, we defeated a horde of zombies. Drink up!” and she does, giving him this look:

Bow chicka wowowwwwwwwwwwwwww chicka chicka boom.

Not that I can blame her. Aside from all that incestin’, Jaime’s a fine slice of Kingslayer pie.

Ser Davos of House Onion and Tyrion are talking about Melisandre, who last episode took off her necklace and aged into evaporation. Davos tells Tyrion that he swore to Melisandre he would kill her next time he saw her but he never got the chance, as she did it to herself. Or the Lord of Light took her. Or whatever. They don’t like him much. They fight his war and then he fucks off.

Tyrion crosses the room to BranBot, who is reading in his wheelchair, which Tyrion calls a clever invention. I keep forgetting that wheelchairs aren’t really a thing in Westeros.

BranBot, as animated as he’s programmed to be, delights in telling Tyrion that it is reminiscent of the one Daeron Targaryen made for his nephew over a hundred years ago. Just your regular episodic reminder that BranBot is...BranBot.

Tyrion says BranBot’s BranVision will come in handy as the Lord of Winterfell, which he technically is as Ned Stark’s last surviving “trueborn” son. But BranBot doesn’t want it. BranBot doesn’t really want anything or anyone. He totally just doesn’t care, man.

Tyrion envies BranBot’s ability to not give a shit and and BranBot tells him not to because--

Yes, yes. You’re an “old soul”, BranBot. BranBot calls himself a grandpa in a teenager’s body. He forgets what generation he is and refers to people his own age as “you youngins”. He constantly crows that he is a “proud introvert” who’d rather be reading. We KNOW, BranBot!

Tormund leads a toast (with his awesome tusk cup) to the Dragon Queen and everyone cheers so maybe Dany’s making headway. She herself turns her own toast to Arya, the hero of the Battle of Winterfell.

Jaime, Brienne, Tyrion, and Pod are playing a Westerosi version of Never Have I Ever with wine and Tormund, a bit drunk off his red ass, is going on and on about how awesome Jon is. Meanwhile, Dany is listening and though she toasts him she knows that she will always be an outsider to these people and they fucking love Jon.

Also, this happened:

“May I have your name?”

“Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Mother of Dragons.”

“Okay, that’s Daniellris Shoehorn, the Sunburnt, Keen of Mean Girls, Bean of the Sandals and the Thirsty Hen, Call Sweetie of the Eight Assed Bee, Brother of Wagons. Is that correct?”

“Ugh. Just write Dany.”

“Okay, Fannie.”

The PTB at HBO have since digitally removed The Cup from the episode but wah bro I think they should have kept it in. That’s hilarious. I want to live in a world where Starbucks exists on Game of Thrones. And it survived the battle. Of course House Styrbycks is right around the corner from Winterfell, conveniently situated at the heart of the town square.

And you better believe there’s a ride-thru for the horseman on the go.

I enjoy how HBO came out with a statement that Dany ordered herbal tea. I can see Dany ordering herbal tea.

In warmer climes, though, she’s definitely a dragon fruit smoothie girl.

Aside: Liam Cunningham recently went on Conan and gifted him The Cup:

He swore it was the actual cup. How is that even possible?! Wouldn’t someone have tossed it after all this time? And the fact that it was still around had to signal to someone on set that a) trolol a person in Consistency fucked up and at least one dude on GoT knew it before the ep aired and b) that Emilia’s discarded latte appearing in a scene would be gold.

I want to believe it’s legit. I want to believe so hard that it’s the real Cup and that all these circumstances came together to land the Cup in Liam’s hand all this time later. I want to, and so I shall.

(Yes, I know it is not the real Cup but shh I want to BELIEVE!)

So, Dany is watching everyone have fun and be close with each other, especially how everyone seems to love Jon here, and she’s feeling even more like an outsider (and not a bit insecure about her claim to the throne) and she gets up and leaves. Varys starts to follow her with his watchful Varys eyes.

Jaime, Brienne, Podrick, and Tyrion are still playing their game and getting increasingly drunker doing so. Drunker and more giggly. Everything’s all well and good until Tyrion suddenly sits up, looks Brienne in the eye, and accuses her of being a--dun dun dun--virgin. Pod nonchalantly sips his wine.

Brienne clambers out of her seat and mutters that she has to piss. Tormund, also drunk as a skunk, stumbles to their table, celebrating, and asks--

Well? Who did shit in Tormund’s pants?!

It’s kinda awks because Tormund is into Brienne but Brienne has feelings for Jaime and when did GoT become a teen soap opera? It’s like The North 00000 up in here.

Tyrion pours more wine into Tormund’s tusk as Jaime follows Brienne out.

Dramz. Will they? Won’t they? Stay tuned next week!

No, they totally will right now.

But first, Tormund is going to bitch.

I was cheering for Tormund to win his Big Woman, I really was. But then Jaime showed up and their chemistry just...reignited.

Tormund expresses sadness until a Northern lady volunteers to take up his time. The Hound continues to drown his sorrows--tho idk what he’s sad about, he’s alive--ignoring even the prospect of sexytimes until Sansa, finally able to make eye contact with the Hound, shares his table. It was a long time ago when she couldn’t even look at him, back when she was just a little bird. But now she’s a dark phoenix (see what I did there? Because Sophie Turner is starring in Dark Phoenix!) risen from the ashes, having had her revenge against her latest torturer/husband, Ramsay Bolton via his own hounds.

None of if would’ve happened if Sansa had left K.L. with the Hound way back when. But Sansa gently squeezes his hand and says that without Ramsay, Littlefinger, and all those assholes, she’d still be that same naive little bird.

Anyone else get the vibe that David and D.B. are kinda...trying to justify what Ramsay did to Sansa here? Just an itty bit? All that’s missing is Sansa belting out Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter”.

Outside, Arya is practicing her archery skillz when Gendry, the new Lord of Storm’s End, is imbued with way too much enthusiasm after being dubbed by Dany and legit blurts out a proposal to his one night stand right then and there.

Ugh. I can’t wait until my shitty copy of Phhotoshop arrives. Until then I have to use paint shop. Look at those corners! They are making me itch.

Anyway, Arya obvs rejects Gendry’s proposal and it’s d’awww. Gendry is like that guy you hook up with once because he’s hot and afterwards, he won’t stop calling you and texting you and trying to add you as a Facebook friend and messaging you on Twitter suggesting that you fly to Michigan to meet his parents for Thanksgiving. This is something I know nothing about.

Ah, now we’ve circled back to the Jaime and Brienne Show!

That’s if he’s not still obsessed with his siiiiiiiiissssterrrr (she’s a psycho!)

Brienne’s throwing more wood onto yet another hearth (there are a lot of hearths in Winterfell) when Jaime knocks on her door and unceremoniously proclaims that she did not drink when Tyrion accused her of being a V to the gin. He pours her some Dornish red and mutters about it being hot in here; Brienne has learned in the North to always keep a fire going. Jaime has learned in the North that he hates the fucking North. Brienne counters that it grew on her.

Jaime wonders if Tormund Giantsbane also grew on her. He seemed quite sad when she left.

He wants the V-card and the V.

Jaime chuckles awkwardly and begins to pull at the collar of his shirt because “it’s bloody hot in here”. Brienne watches him warily for a second until she gets annoyed and unties the garment herself.

You see where this is going.

First time for Jaime, too. He’s never slept with a knight before.

Has he ever slept with anyone who isn’t his sister before?

Shows how much he cares about Brienne. Letting someone in who isn’t Cersei. That’s a good, non-incestuous step forward, Jaime.

It’s a big moment for Brienne, too, aside from the obvious. She’s had a thing for Jaime for years. This is like that guy you’ve been secretly pining for suddenly realizing he’s totally into it.

In the next scene, Dany confronts a “slightly drunk” Jon, who did not know Ser Jorah very well, but he is pretty sure that if he would’ve chosen a way to die, it would have been protecting Dany. Dany knows Jorah loved her, but she couldn’t love him back--not the way he deserved, not the way she loves Jon.

They kiss and it’s like before Jon ever found out he’s also Aegon until--

“Does Westeros have any support groups for this? Maybe I should ask Ser Jaime.”

Jon wishes that Dany had never told them that they were related and I’m sitting here like--

He would’ve figured it out sooner or later, right? I mean, if he knew he was half Targaryen and all and Rhaegar was his daddy. I understand math is hard but...

Dany tries to forget and sometimes almost succeeds until tonight when she saw all those people gathered around him, looking at him like I’m The Hero! People have looked at her like that before, lots of people, but not here, not on this side of the Narrow Sea. She begs him not to tell anyone of his Targaryen lineage, to swear Samwell and BranBot to secrecy, so that things could go back to how they were before between them.

But Jon must tell Sansa and Arya because family and nobility and Starkism and all that. And we all know Sansa no likey Dany, despite the fact that HER ARMIES SAVED YOUR NORTHERN ASS.

She begs him some more and he promises that she is his Queen and they can all live together. And they can, if Jon keeps his trap shut.

In Brienne’s quarters, if the animal pelts are a rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’!

Warm enough in there now, Brienne?

In the War Room--damn, don’t we all aspire to have a War Room?--our favorites are gathered around the Great Table or whatever with a map of Westeros in the center and some old timey Checkers pieces standing in for the two sides’ respective armies. Obvs, the Battle of Winterfell has depleted Dany and Jon’s forces greatly, but they still have enough to wage hell on Cersei. Yara has taken back the Iron Islands in her name, and the Prince of Dorne pledges his support. Still, Cersei has the Golden Company led by Guyliner Greyjoy and the Lannister Army fresh and ready to fight.

Dany is not appeased. No matter how many noble people declare their fealty to her, while Cersei still sits on the Iron Throne, she can still call herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Jon, Tyrion, and Varys reassure her with talk of dragons and the people of K.L. having rebelled against their King before. Sansa adds that she wants to give the armies time to recuperate, which is also--

--since they just fought Team Undead and all. But Dany wants to hit up K.L. NOW NOW NOW because the longer they wait, the stronger her enemies become. Or something.

Someone’s starting to lean a wee too far into her Targ roots. It’s just common sense, Dany. Take a chill pill.

But Jon sticks up for his GF. Very sternly, he swears the North will honor its commitments and allegiance to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and blah blah blah.

Dany appears smug.

Silently, Arya and Sansa trade glances like--

Tyrion narrates that Jon will lead the remaining forces up the Kingsroad while a smaller group of them will take a fleet to Dragonstone while the Queen will follow on...dragonback.

Jaime will remain at Winterfell as a guest.

The camera ticks to Brienne’s expression at the mention of her former crush and new lovah’s name:

She’s trying to outwardly remain passive, but inside--

She’s getting laid and she’s not dead. Those are good times in Westeros.

Dany completes the conference and Arya demands a word with Jon. Outside, Jon is like “We’d all be DEAD if not for her” which is again DUH and Sansa snides “Arya’s the one that killed the Night King”. Arya wouldn’t have had the chance to kill the Night King without Dany’s armies because they’d all be DEAD. Seven Hells, you people are ridiculous. “We don’t trust her, ShE’s nOt OnE oF Us.” That is an absurd reason not to trust someone. I’m from New Jersey. It’d be like me about to be murdered and refusing help from someone because they’re from Florida. Don’t trust her because of her personality not because of where she is from.

And then, like a naive idiot, Jon actually thinks because he swore them to secrecy, Sansa and Arya will for sure totally keep his true lineage behind zipped lips.

This here was one of the scenes that made me roll my eyes so hard, they almost got stuck.

From that, thankfully, GoT moves on to one of my favorite scenes of the episode. Jaime and Tyrion sitting there over drinks gossiping like yentas. Jaime’s giving his younger brother all the deets vis-a-vis his liaison with Brienne. When Tyrion doesn’t say anything snide, Jaime is visibly uncomfortable, and Tyrion claims he’s happy Jaime is happy.

And--

Tyrion has been waiting for ages to make tall person jokes.

He also wants to know what she’s like “down there”. Jaime calls him a dog.

But then Bronn shows up, finally after Creepy Qyburn hired him to kill Cersei’s “traitorous brothers”, a bit drunk off his ass, brandishing that crossbow. After he smacks Tyrion in the nose, he tells them that Cersei offered him Riverrun, but he knows the Queen is fucked after seeing Dany’s dragons, even with their depleted forces. And Cersei can’t pay up if she’s dead, so...

So Tyrion counters the offer. Highgarden for Riverrun. Bronn would be made Lord of the Reach. It’s certainly open now that House Tyrell has been decimated (RIP Olenna, you ultimate badass). Jaime blanches. How could Tyrion just give him Highgarden? Well hell, it’s better than being dead.

Jaime doesn’t think Bronn will seriously kill them. Jaime is wrong.

Jaime scoffs Highgarden will never belong to a cuttrhoat but Bronn laughs pish-posh. Isn’t that how all the great Houses started? Kill a few hundred, they make you a Lord. Kill a few thousand, they make you a King?

Tyrion gives Bronn-y his word he’l give him Highgarden as long as they take King’s Landing. Bronn opts out of leading the fight, but wishes the brothers luck with a casual “Don’t die”.

The Hound yells “FFS!” when he meets up with Arya on the Kingsroad. Yep, they’re both goin’ Kings Landing way. Nope, Arya doesn’t really care to hang around, even if she is the hero after knifing that horned fucker. Yes, she probably will abandon the Hound again if he gets hurt.

They both have “unfinished business”. Arya to scratch Cersei off her infamous Kill List. The Hound, presumably, to finally fulfill our fantasy of Clegane Bowl!

Elsewhere, Dany is getting ready to leave the fucking frozen North, petting her dragons. And on this show, that is not a euphemism. One of them, presumably Rhaegal, takes flight.

While Drogon remains with her, that mama’s boy.

On the bridge, Sansa is watching Drogon and Rhaegal lift off, trying to shoot them down with her eyes.

Before he leaves, Tyrion tries to convince her one more time that Daenerys is it, or at least a way better option than Cersei, and he believes in her, her people love her, Jon loves her, etc, and he’d totes appreciate it if they were at least allies, and he turns to leave as the camera pans close on Sansa’s face; she calls him back to spilleth the beans..eth.

Did I win?

As Jon is loading up his Horshon Wagon, Tormund jokes that he’s not riding the dragon down south. Jon laughs that Rhaegal needs a break; he doesn’t need Jon weighing him down.

Tormund says that he has had enough of “the south” and plans to take the Free Folk back Beyond the Not Wall through Castle Black. It’s not home, not where they belong. Or, suddenly, where Ghost belongs either after EIGHT YEARS.

Yeah, this is where I RAGE.

Jon insists the North is no place for a direwolf and asks Tormund to take Ghost with him back Beyond the Not Wall, where he knows no one, will be lonely, and have to contend with even colder weather than what he’s used to. Tormund tells Jon that he has the “real” North running through his veins and “maybe” they’ll meet again before he departs and Jon goes to HUG EVERYONE.

ALMOST.

RAGE! RAGE AGAINST THE JONCHINE!

I know, I know working with the CGI wolves is ExPeNsIvE, blah blah. I DON’T CARE. There are dragons that spit actual fire on this show. Y’all couldn’t substitute a real big, white, fluffy doggie so Jon could bid his furry friend a real goodbye?! This was the saddest scene in GoT history. Forget Ned’s beheading or even the Red Wedding. This right here is inhuman.

The episode’s director, David Nutter, tried to defend himself, weakly, by insisting he thought this way was more powerful. He obviously does not own dogs. Or any pets of any kind. He did not anticipate how much we all love our furry friends. As soon as the episode aired, Twitter lit up with #GhostDeservedBetter. Poor Ghostie. He lost an ear for you! You’re leaving forever. I snuggle my dogs when I just leave to go to the bathroom. I shall honor Ghost here, First of His Name, Protector of the Realms of Men, the One Eared and the White Furred, Warden of the North. Or at least Warden of the Woof.

I had to watch this portion a few times to get the right screenshots so now I must go snuggle my own doggies. And tell them they are my own little direwoofies and I will never ever leave them. Especially for King’s Landing.

Jon “I’m the worst Wolf Daddy in Westeros” Snow rides off and Sam, Gilly, Tormund, and Ghost watch him go, even after his owner slighted him, because he is the goodest boi on the continent.

On the way to Dragonstone, Tyrion has immediately spilled to Varys because let’s be honest: Jon’s true parentage was always going to stay a secret for about, meh, an hour? And now eight people know--Jon, Dany, Sansa, Arya, Tyrion, Varys, Sam, and BranBot. Which makes it less a secret and more info. If the internetz had existed back then, the whole of Twitter would’ve known within fifteen minutes. #JongonSnowgaryen would trend worldwide. Westeroswide?

I need to start following The_Mastr.

People like Jon. They follow Jon (even tho he’s a terrible pet owner). If this were to get out, Dany would lose the North--Winterfell and the Vale. Sansa would see to that.

Tyrion suggests marrying them and they could rule together. They love each other, but Varys ain’t so sure Jon could ever see beyond that whole “she’s his aunt” thing. And Dany doesn’t like to have her authority questioned. Then Tyrion cheerfully suggests that Cersei could end up killing them all anyway and that would solve their problems.

And then Guyliner Greyjoy comes out of nowhere and motherfucking shoots down Rhaegal!

I literally gasped “NOOOOOOOOO!” out loud when this happened. My animal-loving heart can only take so much, Game of Thrones. There’s a fan theory that technically we didn’t see Rhaegal die and two somethings appeared in the sky in the trailer for the next episode so he could come back with a vengeance. Please come back with a vengeance, Rhaegal.

Dany is furious that Captain Maybelline shot her baby and orders Drogon to make a beeline for him. But afraid for her other baby’s life, she turns at the last minute. Euron, annoyed that he only took down one dragon, instead aims for the boat carrying Team Daenerys, which explodes under the force of multiple scorpion arrows.

All of them swim to shore--all of them, except one. Just before the arrows flew, Grey Worm ordered Missandei to seek refuge on the skiff, and, when we shift to the castle gates, we see Cersei presiding over thousands of innocents who will be caught in the crossfire of war between her and Dany, her child (which she tells Captain Maybellne is his), and a captured Missandei.

In the War Room at Dragonstone--every Great House has a War Room, it seems--our merry band is presiding over a map of King’s Landing where Varys looks Dany in the eye and begs her not to attack the castle. They have Missandei, they killed Rhaegal, yes, but thousands of innocents are held inside the Red Keep, which is Cersei’s modus operandi. Varys pleads with her not to destroy the city she came to save but Dany believes she has a destiny to rid the world of tyrants, and she will fulfill it, no matter the cost.

That sounds vaguely culty, Dany. It wasn’t that long ago you were doing all you could to avoid a battle inside King’s Landing, cus you didn’t wanna destroy the city and the people you were gonna rule over. What happened? Don’t go all Aerys on us.

Tyrion suggests offering Cersei her life in exchange for the throne to avoid carnage. Dany knows Cersei will never go for it, but it’s good for PR, anyway. The people will know that Daenerys Stormborn tried to avoid bloodshed, and Cersei Lannister refused.

Take it back a few, Dany. Just a few, mkay?

At the hearth--there is always a hearth chat going on, and Dragonstone is no exception--Tyrion and Varys are having A Talk. Varys has served many tyrants, and they all talk about destiny and stuff. But, Tyrion negates, Dany has walked through fire and made dragons and lived, maybe she really is destined to rule the Seven Kingdoms.

Varys considers How To Solve A Problem Like Jon Snow. Who may not be a problem so much as a solution. Who would make a better ruler, Jon or Dany? Varys knows Jon doesn’t wanna rule, which is partly why he bent the knee, but maybe a good ruler would be someone who doesn’t want to rule at all.

And Jon’s a dude, which, in ye olden times, was important. Also why he’s got a tighter claim to the throne than Dany does. They’re talking treason right now. Tyrion accuses Varys of abandoning all of the kings he served under. Varys reaffirms that he will always serve what’s best for the realm and the people, thousands of whom will die if the wrong person sits on the throne.

Tyrion asks what happens to Dany and Varys gives him a look like “What do you think?”

At Winterfell, the Northerners are rebuilding while Sansa and Brienne are being all secret-like, talking in whispers and glancing at Jaime. He follows them, having the creeping sensation that they’re talking about something that pertains to him. When he asks what’s up, Brienne tells him that they just got word of Guyliner Greyjoy’s ambush on Dany’s ships, Rhaegal’s death, and Missandei’s capture.

And another for Jaime Reacting to Bad News screenshots:

BUT what exactly is he reacting to? That Cersei is going to die or that he isn’t going to do it himself?

That night, Jaime is watching Brienne sleep, then creeps outside to pack up his mighty steed to head back to the capital. Too bad Brienne wakes up and catches him. The city is going to be destroyed, they all know this. And Jaime doesn’t have to die alongside Cersei.

Jaime doesn’t think he’s a good man. He pushed a boy out of a window and crippled him for life (which led to him becoming BranBot) for Cersei. He strangled his cousin to get back to Cersei. He would’ve killed every man, woman, and child in Riverrun to get back to Cersei. She’s a monster. And so is Jaime.

And then he leaves and Brienne is heartsick and her POOR FACE.

THIS EPISODE IS KILLING ME.

But--and I know a lot of other people think this, too--after I wrung my hands a bit, I thought about this moment. I think Jaime’s going back to K.L. to off Cersei himself, leaving Brienne to believe he left because he thinks he doesn’t deserve her. It still SUCKS but it’s less sucky than thinking he’d rather have his twin sister’s V.

In said capital, the remaining Unsullied and Dothraki forces, along with Dany and her merry men, are lined up outside the gates. Cersei, Pirate von D, and Cersei’s ever lurking zombie Mountain are on the battlements with a chained Missandei. The camera sweeps to show both sides and when did King’s Landing get so FLAT?

Isn’t King’s Landing supposed to be all lush and hilly? What has Cersei done to the place?! This is Dubrovnik, ffs!

Creepy Qyburn comes out of the gates and Tyrion goes to meet him, Hand to Hand. Queen Daenerys demands Cersei’s unconditional surrender and the return of Missandei, unharmed. Queen Cersei demands Daenerys’ unconditional surrender. It’s a stalemate and they’re not getting anywhere so Tyrion tries to appeal to Creepy Qyburn’s logic. They have a chance to prevent bloodshed. To not cause the screams of thousands of children as hellfire is rained down upon them. It’s not a pleasant sound, Qyburn agrees. Alas, he still goes on about Cersei being the one true Queen so Tyrion pushes past him to speak to his sister himself.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are all--

Dany also thinks this is not a good idea.

Some of the Lannister army up on the battlements with Cersei and Co get their bows and arrows ready but as Tyrion approaches, Cersei waves them off with a smug smile. Calling up to her, Tyrion says he knows Cersei doesn’t care about the people of the Seven Kingdoms; they hate her and the feeling’s mutual.

He mentions her children, her unborn child. How she loved them more than life itself. And just because her reign is over doesn’t mean her life has to end, her her child has to die.

Just for a moment, one moment, it appears as if his words are getting to her. Cersei takes a deep breath, lets it out shakily. Lena’s acting in this instance is superb. And then, she crosses to Missandei as Dany and Grey Worm race toward the gate in alarm, and murmurs “If you have any last words, now is the time”.

Missandei’s last word?

With her last word, Missandei is telling Dany to fuck it all and burn King’s Landing to the ground.

Cersei gives zombie Mountain the nod to take off Missandei’s head, and poor Grey Worm can’t watch as the undead monster kills his girlfriend.

Dany shakes, turns, and walks away as Cersei smiles triumphantly.

The Mother of Dragons is so done fucking around, y’all.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh this episode was a ride. I wanted to wring SO many necks. Jon Snow, how does it feel to be the villain of the internet? Jaime, you best be headin’ back to K.L. to kill Cersei. Don’t you be breaking Brienne’s heart for nothing. Burn it all down, Dany! #Cleganebowl!

I am EXCITE for the penultimate ep. So EXCITE!

#game of thrones #game of thrones recap #game of thrones 8 #emilia clarke #Kit Harrington #nickolaj coster-waldau #gwendoline christie #kristofer hivju #Sophie Turner #maisie williams #jacob anderson #nathalie emmanuel #ghost #ghost deserves better #warden of the woof

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celestial-skylines · 6 years

Text

Everything's Fine. Kevin G. x reader

There is not nearly enough Kevin G. content on this site, so I'm contributing. I hope yall like it.

---

Your heels clacked against the floor behind 3 other pairs.

“y/n!” You heard the clacking stop and you looked up, blown out blonde hair focusing into your vision.

“Yes, Regina? You asked wearily.

“Keep up will you? You look like a lost puppy.” She snapped her fingers a few times for emphasis.

“Right sorry.” you said, rushing up to walk next to Karen. Now the four of you taking up almost the entire hallway like you usually do when Cady was with you.

You approached Ms.Norbury’s classroom and Regina’s halt in steps cued the rest to stop too.

“Okay y/n, this is you. We'll see you at lunch okay?” She gave you a fake smile but then it faded as she looked you up and down. “Oh and don't wear that dress again. It doesn't look good on you.” With a flip of her hair, she turned and walked towards her next class, Gretchen and Karen following behind her.

You looked down at your dress and ran your hands down the front.

“This is my favorite dress though…” you mumbled quietly to yourself, suddenly feeling a hand on your lower back. You straighten up and flinch out of surprise and you hear a voice behind you.

“Don't worry babe, you look pretty smokin in that dress. Might be my favorite one you own.”

Kevin Gnapoor.

You smile at him-a small smile- because you're unsure of what to say.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime. Although, gotta say I'd rather see you withou-”

“Kevin!” Ms. Norbury spoke from behind the two of you.

He just winked at you as he walked past you, into the classroom.

You clutched the sides of your dress and walked in behind him.

---

A lunch tray hit the table with a slam as Regina sat in front of you.

“I heard you were talking to that gross mathlete earlier.” She stared at you and you felt as if she was burning a hole right through your head.

“No, we've got the same class, he was just trying to flirt with me.” you dismissed, going back to the lunch in front of you, hoping she would drop it.

“Right well, if he bothers you again let me know. I'm sure Gretchen can get some interesting dirt on him.” She turned to Gretchen. “ Can't you Gretchen?”

“Of course Regina.” She nodded her head enthusically.

You wanted to tell her that it was fine. That you didn't need someone hovering you. That maybe you didn't mind Kevin flirting with you so much. But you didn't. Because it was Regina George and god you were your own person but hell were you scared of stepping on her toes.

So you just nodded.

Like always.

---

And so life went on and Kevin started hitting on you more and more after that day. Sometimes it would be things like “Damn girl, you should wear that more often” and you'd just respond with some snarky remark. But sometimes he would just tell you that you looked nice that day. You wondered if maybe it was because he could tell when you weren't feeling it. Because maybe you were upset about something Regina said or something Regina did.

Regina practically ruled your life. And you hated it but you were much too scared of what would happen if you decided to abandon that.

So you continued to go along with it. And as long as you were doing so, that meant any interaction with Kevin had to be limited.

It's not like he made it easy though.

“y/n, babe, lookin pretty fine today,” you stopped in front of Kevin who was walking out of the computer lab as you were passing by, but quickly started to panic when you heard Regina’s voice echo from around the corner of the empty hall “you sure you don't wanna-” you cut him off, pressing a hand to cover his mouth and one on hand on his chest, pushing him back into the lab, shutting the door behind you before Regina saw you two.

“Woah woah woah, y/n, if you wanted to get it on, you could have just told me. I'm always available for you.” Kevin said putting a hand on your waist and looking down at your hand that was still on his chest.

You realized this and quickly stepped back, straightening out your skirt, your face red.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to, I just heard Regina coming and I didn't want to get harassed.”

You looked behind you, towards the door making sure no one was coming.

You didn't see the saddened look Kevin was giving you.

“You're really that scared of her?” he asked. His voice sounding different than when he spoke previously.

You turned to look at him. “Well yeah, isn't everyone?”

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Yeah but... aren't you friends? Isn't that like a no harassment zone?”

You let out an amused breath through your nose. “No. I mean sure I've probably got it way better than the rest of the school, but it doesn't mean I'm not affected either. All of the plastics are. We just aren't in her direct line of fire.”

Kevin nodded and raised his eyebrow a little to signal you to keep going.

“For the most part it's safe, I guess. I just can't wear what she tells me not to wear, I can't do what she tells me not to, I can't be friends with anyone she says not to-”

Kevin's started talking before you could finish, his eyebrows furrowed. “Is that why you never wear that one dress you like? And why you ignore me sometimes?”

You fiddled with your hands. “Yeah…”

“‘yeah’ to which one?” he asked.

“Uh, both I guess.I’m sorry about that though, Kev. I just-” you sighed. “If we become friends Regina will make both of our lives hell and I just- I'd rather not have to deal with that, or put you through that.”

Kevin slung an arm over your shoulder. “y/n. You know I am more than willing to mess around with you in secret.” he said, as he motioned his arm out in front of you, as if trying to get you to envision it. “Of course all of those woke hunnies waiting in line to get with yours truly are gonna be so hurt. And you know, I can't hold back my full potential.” he stopped for a second and put his hand on his hip. “But I can make an exception for you.”

You squirmed out of his grasp. “Yeah. Right.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “No no I'm serious though. Like we should totally hang out sometime, not here obviously so you don't get in trouble but like, I dunno, your house my house. What do you say, hmm? Care to learn a little more about Kevin G.? Possibly discover new things?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you rolled your eyes at him, even though you knew he was kidding(mostly).

He nudged your arm after you didn't respond for a second. “I dunno Kev. We'll see.” you checked your phone for the time and sighed. “I should go, before I start getting “where are you?” texts”

Kevin nodded and as you were about to leave he spoke up again “I'll be seeing you in calc right?” you nodded with a teeny, small smile and made your way out.

It wasn't until that day that you really realized how much you wanted to be out of Regina’s grasp.

---

The gods looked down upon you with favor. Regina George came walking into the cafeteria in sweatpants on a Thursday. And you stood up to her. And now you felt so…free. You spent all this time listening to every little order and doing things the way Regina told you to, but you were over it. Never again.

---

It was Friday now, and you walked into school in that dress that you missed so much, that you decided you wanted to wear again. You showed up in your dress and marched into Ms.Norbury’s classroom before class started.

“Do you have an open space? I wanna join the mathletes.” You spoke with confidence as you pushed the door open.

Kevin's head shot in your direction and his eyes widened as he broke out a smile.

“Hey my favorite dress!! Regina changed her mind?” He totally discarded your statement and was focused on how pretty you looked. All happy and glowy.

You shook your head.“Regina doesn't tell me what to do anymore.”

He smiled at you and was about to open his mouth to say something before Tyler cut him off and started talking instead. “So, back to the topic at hand here. You wanna join the Mathletes???”

You looked towards him and smiled. “Yeah! I mean, I'm pretty good at math if I do say so myself and I feel like this might be a better way to occupy my time, than what I was doing before (basically being on call for regina and hanging out with her all the time).”

“Isn't it like…”social suicide” or whatever?” Now it was Marwan who spoke.

“Honestly, I don't really care anymore. Not about dumb stuff like that.” you scratched your arm out of nervousness (me? Self projecting again????? never.)

“Well I dunno.” Kevin said from his spot on his desk. “Us mathletes have some pretty high standards boo. Especially me tho.” He looked at you with a straight serious face despite having just called you boo a second ago.

You stared back at him, feeling somewhat intimidated by the way he was looking at you. That is, until he started laughing.

“Nah, I'm just kidding, comere.” he patted the spot next to him on top of his desk.

You walked over, and sat next to him on his desk.

“GPA?” he asked.

“4.0”

“Calc grade?”

“A+”

“Hmmmmmm” he put his finger to his chin dramatically pretending to think. “What do you think boys? All in favor of having this lovely lady on our team?” he asked them, gesturing to you.

They both nodded and so you were then appointed the newest member of the mathletes. Kevin wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Ms.Norbury started talking about how you being on the team would be refreshing, and you didn't shove him off this time. You kinda just sat there, leaning into him a little. Comfortable.

“Kev,” you spoke up and he looked down at you next to him. “What up sweetheart?”

“I think I'd like to take you up on your offer to hang out.” his eyes brightened at your words

“You finally wanna bang Kevin G.!!!???”

You laughed at him and smacked his arm lightly.

“No, but judging by the overwhelming excitement in your voice, it sounds like you're, the one who wants to bang me.”

He shrugged off your comment, and tightened his arm around your shoulders.

“It's okay, I know you're just embarrassed to admit that you're scared you can't handle all this.” he gestured to…well, all of him.

“Right.That's it.” you shook your head.

---

“Y/nnnnnnnnn” Kevin stretched out your name as he snapped his fingers in front of your face, shaking you out of your daze.

You blinked “Sorry Kev, what?”

“Are you okay?” he asked raising a suspicious eyebrow at you.

Are you okay? Are you okay???

Of course you're not okay!

Too many things were happening.

You were accused of writing the burn book with the rest of the plastics (beside Regina obvi) even though you NEVER wrote in that mean book.

The great fall of Regina George occured. And she got...hit by a bus.

Cady joined the Mathletes after fessing up about the burn book.

The Mathletes state champion finals were in 2 weeks.

AND you cannot for the life of you, get Kevin Gnapoor out of your head.

See, since you've joined the mathletes, you and Kevin started hanging out a lot more. Not just bc of mathlete meetings and practices but also outside of that when you guys would actually go out and do things or have your own practices. And due to this, you may or may not have developed a huge crush on him? And have a hard time not getting distracted.

Like right now for example.

The two of you were practicing for the finals but you started spacing out and totally got caught.

“Yeah!” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I'm okay, sorry Kev. Just a bit distracted is all, it's fine.”

“Distracted by the wonder that is Kevin G.? Can't blame you, beautiful, but seriously, finals are in 2 weeks. I know it's really hard, but if you could try to keep your mind off of me and more on these equations, that would be great.” Kevin said as he tapped the text book with his pencil.

“tch, easier said than done…” you mumbled under your breath and prayed he didn't hear you.

“what was that?” he asked, looking amused.

“Nothing! I didn't say anything!” you lied but your face turned super red, kind of giving it away.

“Yeah okay, very convincing.” he moved closer to where you were sitting on your bed, moving some books out of the way.

You shifted in your spot and started anxiously fiddling with your fingers. “Kev.”

He was scanning over equations but looked up at you with curious brown eyes when he heard you call him. “hmm?”

“I uh-” should you be doing this? You haven't really thought about this enough. Oh well, I guess we're doing this. “I really like you.” you whispered out, halfheartedly hoping he wouldn't hear you and you could move on to more equations.

But he did. And he let go of the textbook in his lap and moved it aside, taking your hands in his.

“I really like you too y/n.” Your eyes widened a little and you were trying hard to find any type of reassurance in his eyes that he was serious.

“I'm not kidding Kevin.” you said, scared this was a big joke even though your gut was screaming at you that he'd never actually do that to you.

“Neither am I.” he squeezed your hands, and when your eyes flickered to his face, he gave you an honest smile.

You smiled back at him tested the waters by leaning in. He did the same and in half a second his lips were pressed against yours.

It was a soft sweet kiss but as seconds passed it was becoming deeper. You let go of his hands and were about to snake an arm over his shoulder before he pulled away.

“I uh- sorry. I just-” he took in a deep breath. “Is this okay?” you smiled.

“Yes Kev. This is fine. You're fine.” you reassured him.

“Are you sure? Because I don't want to overstep any boundaries and if you're uncomfortable then-”

“I'm fine Kev. Promise.” you interrupted, taking his face in your hands. “It doesn't sound like you are though.” you gave him a worried, lopsided smile.

“No it's fine. I'm fine. I just- I know I talk a big game, but I've never done this before.” his eyes flicked around the room, trying to look anywhere but you.

“Neither have I though.” you didn't even have to ask him to look at you, because after you said that, his eyes darted to your face so fast.

“Huh?? Yes you have.” he gaped. “You were a plastic, what do you mean you've never done this before??”

You shrugged your shoulders with a small laugh.

“Yeah but I don't like messing around with people's feelings. I take this stuff seriously.”

“That's good to know.” Kevin said, visibly more relaxed than before, your words putting his worries to ease. “Anyways, where were we?” he pulled you closer and his hand rested on your waist.

“Somewhere around here I think.” you leaned in again and pinned your lips back onto his where they were before.

He went from having a hand on your waist to an arm wrapped around your waist and you shifted your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer.

The kiss was deep and nice, not perfect but still nice. And you could tell that he was putting as much passion and happiness into it as you were.

The two of you pulled back for air briefly and Kevin pecked your lips a few more times. You giggled as he did so and after about 5 more kisses, he pulled you into a hug. It was warm and comforting and safe. And you felt like you could stay in his arms like that forever.

Bonus: You scored the winning point at the mathletes final and Kevin was so proud of you and he spun you around and kissed your face over and over and was like !!!I have the best girlfriend!!!???

The mathletes pretended you were gross and annoying but they all think you guys are actually really cute and Marwan and Tyler are really happy to see Kevin so happy.

#kevin gnapoor #kevin g #kevin gnapoor x reader #mean girls #mean girls the musical #mean girls x reader

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