#cw reference to homophobia

[corvidcrybaby]

No thoughts, just this little ‘what if’ scenario if the Valentines Brothers had joined Hellsing instead of Millennium and all of the chaos that would ensure, especially between Jan and Zem 😳😂

erifuheriuhweg I'll be so for real with my read on Jan, prolly a slur at some point so something like this I'd wager,,,,,, oops

the long pause is him deciding which avenue of edgy dickishness he's going to use on her because man he just has so many OPTIONS the prick

[yarrowleef]

im sorry but your note about felidae makes me intensely curious on why you dont want to talk about it, can you summarise your dislike in a sentence maybe?

well, in sentence, the author is unbelievably bigoted

[extreme content warning for racism discussion, particularly against muslims, if you look through any of the links]

I looked him up again to make sure I was remembering it correctly, and it's somehow worse then I recalled.

In more than a sentence, when I say bigoted I don't mean ignorantly bigoted, I mean like all he does now is write right-wing anti-immigrant and anti-lgbt propaganda. One of his other books is called "Germany Gone Mad: The Crazy Cult around Women, Homosexuals and Immigrants" and I don't know the exact contents of this book but I think the title is enough. Made a comment about how it's a shame that concentration camps aren't in use anymore at an anti immigration rally. This rally was set up by a xenophobic anti-immigration group, and even that group had to later apologize for this guy being just a little too racist in public, and he had to get kicked off the stage for going on his frothing tirade too long. These were comments he later got sued over. Most of his wiki page is just listing his controversies and now he is most known everywhere in Germany as a local right-wing shit-head first, and cat book author as a foot note

A few years ago I was wondering why it was so hard to find his book and why I had never even seen the many sequels Felidae supposedly had anywhere, and it turns out it was because both his german and U.S publisher (penguin random house) kicked him out of his book deal for his awful behavior and refused to distribute any more of his books in the U.S. And traditional U.S publishers will look the other way about a lot of shady behavior from their authors, so you have to really be off your shits for them to publicly kick you. Hell, apparently even amazon removed his books from many places, most noticeably kindle (I don't know if this is still true, but it was as of a couple years ago)

He's still alive and still probably receives book royalties so, yeah, Would Extremely Strongly Suggest never paying for any of his work

[kjack89]

The Only Honest Art Form

The Lenny Bruce-esque sorta-kinda Mrs. Maisel AU that I just couldn't resist writing.

1950s comedian AU, E/R, developing relationship.

Enjolras glanced almost nervously around himself before descending the few stairs to the grubby-looking door underneath the flickering neon sign. He pushed the door open and was met immediately by a veritable screen of smoke, both cigarette and otherwise, and the particular smells that always seemed to accompany bars.

Not that Enjolras spent much time in bars, save for on the rare occasion when he was dragged somewhere, usually by Courfeyrac, to meet someone, usually an attempted date being disguised as a comrade.

But Joly and Bossuet had cornered Enjolras one night after a Les Amis meeting to tell Enjolras that there was a comedy act he needed to check out. “Comedy?” Enjolras had asked, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t think—”

“Believe me, whatever you think is wrong,” Bossuet had said.

Joly had nodded. “Seriously,” he said, clearly picking up on Enjolras’s lingering skepticism. “This guy is a helluva lot more than just a comic. He’s saying things about free speech that I’ve only dreamed of having the balls to say at one of our protests.”

So despite his better judgment, Enjolras had made the schlep on a Saturday night to the nondescript comedy club in the Village to see—

“That’ll be a buck-fifty.”

Enjolras shook his head to clear it before realizing that what he had assumed was a pile of coats just inside the doorway was actually a young man. Or woman. It was hard to tell, and seemed rude to assume one way or the other. “Pardon?” he said politely.

The woman – Enjolras was more convinced now that the figure was a woman, despite the unlit cigar chomped firmly between her lips – rolled her eyes. “Door charge,” she said shortly, mumbling around the cigar. “It’s a buck-fifty, and a two drink minimum.”

Enjolras had expected a drink minimum, even if he wasn’t thrilled by it. “What if I give you five bucks, and we skip the drinks?”

She looked distinctly unimpressed. “What if I shove my foot up your ass and tell you to pound sand?”

“A buck-fifty and two drinks it is.”

He passed the money over to her before asking, in what he hoped was a casual way, “So has Grantaire gone on yet?”

She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Who do you think is fellating the microphone as we speak?”

The man onstage was in fact doing a fair impression of oral sex, presumably as some kind of punchline, given the way that the audience was falling over themselves, and Enjolras wrinkled his nose. “So much for saying things about free speech,” he muttered to himself, making his way over to the bar where he asked the bartender for two beers, neither of which he intended on actually drinking.

As the bartender poured, Enjolras sat on a barstool and for the first time took a good look at the man onstage. He looked to be a few years older than Enjolras, and was wearing a rumpled suit with a loosened dark green tie. He didn’t look much like what Enjolras had expected, not that Enjolras knew what he had expected in the first place. A beatnik, maybe, complete with the black turtleneck and sunglasses and—

Dear God, Enjolras was beginning to sound like his mother.

The bartender slid the beers across the counter to him and Enjolras took a grateful swig from one, happy to have the distraction from his impending mental breakdown at the comparison to his mother. 

He took another sip as he finally tuned into what Grantaire was saying. “So anyway,” Grantaire said, clearly wrapping up a bit, “as I told my manager, that’s the last time I’m going to San Francisco.”

That statement was met with enough laughter and applause that Enjolras almost wished he had heard the joke that preceded it. “Which is a shame,” Grantaire continued, “because it’s a great city full of lovely people. But apparently they operate under a ‘three strikes and you’re out’ policy for obscenity arrests, which, y’know, is very All-American of them, but does pose a problem for me.”

The mention of obscenity arrests piqued Enjolras’s interest, and he sat forward on his barstool. “And which seems especially odd given that San Fran is full of fags, but hey, what do I know.” Grantaire said the word so casually that Enjolras almost didn’t flinch, and he immediately glanced around to see if anyone else had caught it, or his reaction to it, but no one was looking at him. Nor did anyone seem remotely surprised by Grantaire’s casual use of the word. “Well, this is what I do know: even if that’s true, you apparently shouldn’t say it. Not unless you’re calling someone a fag, at least. That, people get free passes on.”

“Joe McCarthy called me a fag once.” Low murmurs broke out throughout the club but Grantaire just waited them out, seemingly unconcerned. “Yeah, I know. It was a surprise to me, too. So I took my dick out of his mouth and I said, ‘Joe, don’t talk with your mouth full.’”

The laughter that met that was startled but uproarious, and Enjolras couldn’t help but whistle and clap along with the rest of the crowd, somehow feeling a weight slip off of him. Enjolras had spent so much of his life trying to avoid being called that, or being connected to those kinds of sex acts, that he could hardly believe that someone was standing on a stage, mentioning it as casually as remarking on the weather, and not only were people not fleeing in the opposite direction, but they were actually cheering for him. 

Grantaire waited for the crowd to calm down before continuing, “Interestingly, that joke got me arrested the last time that I was in DC, again on obscenity charges. I asked them which was more obscene, the dick sucking or Joe McCarthy.”

More laughter, but this time, Grantaire spoke over the crowd. “I know, I know, you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead. So in that case, let me just say, to his credit, the absolute best thing that Sen. Joseph McCarthy ever did was die.”

Enjolras didn’t expect that line to get as much raucous applause as it did, but then again, Joseph McCarthy had become a bit of a laughing stock following his censure a few years back. If only that meant his ideals had become an equal laughing stock, but Enjolras wasn’t about to hold his breath on that. 

“But hey, let’s not overstate his legacy, right?” Grantaire said, taking the microphone off of its stand before resting his elbow on top of the stand. “Because this is America, and we have that little thing called the First Amendment, which says that I can stand up here and say whatever the fuck I want…” He paused, rather deliberately. “And then promptly be arrested for it. The American Experiment, brought to its knees by a joint fear of communism and homosexuality.”

Gone was Grantaire’s previously sardonic tone, replaced by something more like bitterness, and he took a moment, seemingly to gather himself, before continuing, in a slightly more upbeat way, “Listen, I respect their aim of conflating communists with homosexuals, but I just don’t think it works in practice. I mean, have you seen a gay man when there’s a sale at Bergdorf’s? Hell, Liberace’s practically single-handedly supporting the sequins industry.” He paused before adding, “That is, of course, a joke, lest Mr. Liberace comes after me like he went after the Daily Mirror. I’m less concerned about the implications of that because I’m not a British citizen and have in fact been banned from entering the UK as an ‘undesirable alien’.” Again Grantaire paused, this time to wink at a woman sitting towards the front of the club. “Which is what my last girlfriend called me, too.”

The laughter that met that was somewhat gentler than before, and Grantaire straightened, strolling casually toward the left side of the stage. “But seriously, I’ve been told that it’s because homosexuality is an affront against God, and communism is antitheist, so they go hand-in-hand, apparently.” He shrugged. “Personally, I think God’s probably got more important stuff to deal with than communists, and Jesus was a confirmed bachelor who traveled around with 12 other guys, so. I’m gonna let you draw your own conclusions on that one.”

“Besides, if anything, in my experience, homosexuals help turn people away from godlessness. Or at least, that’s sure what it sounded like when the guy I was fucking last night kept screaming, ‘Oh my God, oh my God.’”

That joke drew enormous laughter, and Grantaire allowed himself a smile before pointing into the audience. “That cat knows what I’m talking about.” He wandered back towards the microphone stand. “Of course, that’s another joke that got me arrested, once again for being obscene.” He returned the microphone to its stand as he asked, “Have you heard about this thing, the Roth test? Yeah, the Supreme Court said that Congress can outlaw anything that is ‘utterly without redeeming social value’.” He gave the audience a knowing look. “I look forward to Congress outlawing the Supreme Court under the same guise.”

“But seriously,” he continued, “who decides what has social value? I get up here, I tell some jokes, you fine people laugh. How is that not social value?” 

“Of course, probably the biggest example of no redeeming social value that the various authorities has tried to pin on me was for making a joke about the Pope, which, I mean. Have you seen the hat?” This time, the joke was met with a few boos and shouts, and Grantaire grinned. “I see we’ve got some Catholics in the audience tonight, folks, so I apologize in advance to each of you and your dozen siblings. But that’s what I mean – the jokes write themselves. You can accuse me of being a lazy joke writer if you want, but I don’t think you can say it’s obscene to point out the obvious.”

He paused. “Which is that the Pope’s hat is uncomfortably phallic.”

“Again, lazy, but obscene?” He shrugged. “I dunno.” He shook his head. “People get weird about religion though, man. Specifically Christianity, or, Christ, Catholicism, Jesus, don’t get me started. And like, they can dig if you’re a Jew, or a Muslim, maybe, just as long as you don’t talk badly about Christianity. Let alone if you make the fatal error of saying that you don’t believe in the Christian God.”

His tone had again slipped into something less joking, and Enjolras found himself leaning forward in his seat again. “Because the thing is, you gotta pay attention to the wording, y’know? Our friend the First Amendment, it says free exercise of religion, not free exercise from religion. People in this country, they get very uncomfortable when you start talking about beliefs, but they get even more uncomfortable when you talk about not having any beliefs. Like, how can you not believe in God?”

Grantaire’s expression twisted. “And I look around at the world and I ask, how can you?”

He forced a chuckle and shrugged again. “But seriously, questioning the existence of God is actually a religious act in and of itself, if my grandmother’s rabbi is to be believed, and as someone who is kind of Jewish on my mother’s side, I say that the First fucking Amendment should protect my right to just kind of shrug and say, ‘I dunno’ when asked about my beliefs.”

“And as someone who’s kind of an alcoholic on my father’s side, I honestly couldn’t give a fuck what you believe as long as you keep pouring.”

That garnered the loudest applause yet, and Grantaire laughed lightly before saying, “Listen, I don't know if God is real or not. I don’t really care one way or the other. But belief – I wish I had that kind of confidence, honestly.”

“Truth is, I believe in one thing, and one thing only: my full glass. And since mine is looking a little empty, and since I haven’t yet said anything to get me arrested, it’s probably as good a sign as any that it’s time to wrap it up.”

He spoke over the applause that greeted that statement, lifting the empty glass in question. “You guys have been a wonderful audience. Tip your waitresses, tip the bartender, tip me in beer and pills if you want. Just don’t call the cops and remember: fuck Joe McCarthy.”

Grantaire walked offstage to applause and whistles, and Enjolras craned his neck, watching as Grantaire accepted a beer someone offered him before slipping out of a side door. Enjolras stood, heading toward the door before doubling back to grab the beer that he hadn’t yet touched, carrying it towards the door.

He was cut off by the woman from the door, who blocked his path with crossed arms. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

Enjolras stared at her. “I, uh, I wanted to…” He trailed off, not sure of the best way to get around her, or through her, or whatever. “I wanted to tip him in a beer,” he offered weakly.

Her eyes narrowed. “Uh-huh,” she said skeptically. She looked him up and down and shook her head. “Well, you’re lucky that the beer you’re offering is accompanied by that mug.” She took a step to the side and gave Enjolras a nod, letting him slip past her. “Just don’t keep him out all night.”

Enjolras didn’t bother replying, just shouldering the door open and stepping outside, the crisp air almost knocking the breath out of him. And if the cold didn’t do, almost running smack in Grantaire certainly did. “You ok?” Grantaire asked, looking amused, as Enjolras cursed at the beer that had slopped all over his hand.

“Yeah, I’m…” Enjolras trailed off, flushing when he realized Grantaire was standing all of a foot away from him, his jacket slung over the railing of the steps, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he felt his mouth go dry. “I mean, uh, I wanted to, uh…”

“Did Éponine send you back here?” Grantaire asked, saving him from his stammering, and he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.

Up close, Grantaire looked exhausted, his shirt rumpled and stained, and Enjolras tore his eyes away to ask, “Who’s Éponine?”

“My manager,” Grantaire mumbled around the cigarette he’d just stuck in his mouth. “She was manning the door.”

“Oh,” Enjolras said, setting the now half-full beer down on the lid of a nearby trash can. “Uh, yeah, or at least she didn’t stop me, and—”

Grantaire snorted. “And she knows my type.” He took a drag from the cigarette before telling Enjolras, “Listen, I appreciate the thought but I’m not exactly in the mood tonight, as much as I would love to see what you look like without your clothes on.”

He leered at Enjolras, who recoiled, his expression darkening. “Excuse me?”

Grantaire just looked amused. “Isn’t that what you came back here for?” he asked.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean—” Enjolras flushed. “Listen, all I wanted was—”

But Grantaire cut him off. “Look, kid—”

“I’m not a kid,” Enjolras interrupted, wincing when he realized that’s exactly how he sounded.

Grantaire had the nerve to laugh. “No? How many nights have you spent behind bars?”

Enjolras glared at him. “Not that it’s any of your business, but twelve.”

Grantaire whistled. “No shit. Pretty little thing like you? For what?” He grinned. “No, let me guess.” He took another drag from his cigarette as he eyed Enjolras appreciatively. “Clean cut kid like you, can’t imagine it was a drug rap. Or indecent exposure, more’s the pity. But given how you’re glaring at me, you’ve got a righteous anger thing going on, so I’m gonna guess causing a public disturbance, maybe inciting a riot.”

Despite himself, Enjolras felt a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth. “You forgot contributing to the delinquency of a minor,” he said, leaning against the brick wall of the club as he added, “and, of course, obscenity.”

A slow grin crossed Grantaire’s face. “No shit,” he repeated. “We have that in common.”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “We have more than that in common.”

Grantaire’s eyes darkened and he mimicked Enjolras’s position, leaning against the wall entirely too closely to Enjolras to be accidental. “I sort of put that much together,” he said, giving Enjolras a crooked half-smile, “but seeing as how I don’t exactly relish adding sodomy to your list of illustrious charges…”

Enjolras shook his head, but he wasn’t quite able to look away. “That wasn’t what I meant,” he said, but his words came out a little breathier than he intended.

No wonder Grantaire didn’t look convinced. “Wasn’t it?” he asked, reaching out to brush a blond curl off of Enjolras’s forehead. “Because what I said earlier, about not being in the mood…Well, let’s just say I can be convinced otherwise.”

Enjolras swallowed hard before blurting, “Actually, I wanted to invite you to join me and my friends.”

Grantaire blinked. “What, like an orgy?”

“No!” Enjolras snapped, straightening. “Not like an orgy. For one of our meetings.”

Grantaire’s expression fell, and he shook his head, stabbing his cigarette out on the wall. “Let me guess, you’re a bunch of activists? You want me to join one of your little protests?”

Enjolras bristled at his dismissive tone. “Well, yeah, given everything you said about the First Amendment, I just thought—”

“You thought wrong,” Grantaire said flatly, grabbing his jacket from the railing, though he didn’t put it on, just draping it over his arm. “Or did you miss my last bit about not believing in anything?”

Enjolras felt stung. “I thought that was about religion.”

Grantaire shrugged. “Religion, politics, what’s the difference?”

“So, what, you’re happy getting busted on obscenity charges every other day?” Enjolras asked, incredulous.

“What’s the alternative?”

Enjolras stared at him. “Well, for starters, if we get different people in office—”

“They’ll eventually just uphold the exact same power structures,” Grantaire said dismissively. “But seriously, if you can point to any concrete achievement that your little friends have actually gotten…”

“So is it all just an act?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. “Just something to get some laughs? You don’t actually believe in free speech?”

“It’s not me that doesn’t believe, kid,” Grantaire told him, his crooked smile back. “But until the Supreme Court says otherwise, there’s not a helluva lot any of us can do.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I don’t believe that.”

“Then you’re braver than me by far.”

Enjolras looked at Grantaire closely. “I don’t believe that, either.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the door to the club. “What you did in there, what you said in there, those weren’t the words of a coward. Nor, for that matter, were they the words of a man who doesn’t believe a better world is possible.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “Or maybe not. But regardless, I’ve got better things to do than waste my time on activism.”

“Like what?” Enjolras challenged.

Grantaire winked. “Like finding someone who will sleep with me tonight, for starters,” he said. “Since I think we can both agree that ship has pretty much sailed.”

Enjolras glared at him. “That ship was never even in the harbor.”

Grantaire just laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

He started to brush past Enjolras back into the club, but Enjolras reached out to grab his arm. “Wait—” he started, breaking off when his thumb brushed against a series of marks on the inside of Grantaire’s arm. “What’s this?”

Grantaire yanked his arm away from him. “Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about, sweetheart,” he said, rolling his shirtsleeve down and buttoning the cuff with unexpected dexterity. 

“Is that the better thing you have to do?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire grinned. “Well, one of many,” he said. “But again, it’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly. “You could be just what the movement needs,” he told Grantaire, his voice low. “Your humor, and the things you have to say about obscenity, about free speech – people would listen to you.”

Grantaire shrugged. “They already do,” he said simply. “Maybe I’ll see you at another show.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said, feeling oddly deflated. “Maybe you will.”

“And who knows,” Grantaire said, “maybe you will end up changing the world…”

He trailed off expectantly, and Enjolras realized for the first time that he had never actually introduced himself. “Enjolras,” he said. “I’m Enjolras.”

Grantaire grinned. “Enjolras,” he repeated. “Well, it’s better than Apollo, which is what I was calling you in my head.” He winked again. “I’ll see you around, Enjolras.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras echoed. “I’ll see you around.”

Grantaire slipped back into the club, and Enjolras stared after him for a long moment before shaking his head and slowly starting in the direction of the subway, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he’d expected from this, what he’d expected Grantaire to be like, or whether he’d actually believed that Grantaire would come to a Les Amis meeting, but he knew he’d expected more than that.

He’d expected more from Grantaire.

Of course, Enjolras had never been one to just roll over and accept defeat, and as he walked toward the subway, he felt a familiar feeling rise in his chest: determination.

Yeah, he would see Grantaire again.

One way or another.

Because Enjolras wasn’t done trying to convince him.

[troublewithvampires]

@oceanoecielo said: ❛ fake dating you is a lot more fun than i expected. ❜ (oopsies. don't worry about it dude. don't worry about it LKFDJSDF)

(fake dating starters - open)

"Oh, yeah?" Salvatore glances over his shoulder at Simon, trying and failing to hide how much the casual remark has him perking up. "How you figure?" Right now, he's alone with the older man, getting ready for some fundraising event Simon is set to appear at. Salvatore's job tonight is twofold: take the opportunity to scope out potential new business partners for the Gianetti family, and hang off Simon Fairchild's arm as his plus one.

Initially, Salvatore had recoiled at the prospect of being chosen as Simon's fake date, vehemently rejecting the idea of pretending to be some old fogey's toy. He wasn't a cheap whore for his boss to lend out, after all, nor was he a fucking queer. (At least, as far as anyone in the family knew, and he's damn determined to keep it that way.)

However, Nickels had made it very clear that this wasn't about what Salvatore wanted. This was business, and Simon was a lucrative business partner for the Gianetti's to get whatever he wanted. So, if Simon wanted a sweet young thing to sit in his lap and smile at him, then he'd fucking get it. And if Salvatore wanted to keep working with the family, then he'd shut his trap and play the part.

So, Salvatore went along with it, ignoring the twisting and fluttering in his guts as he spent more and more time around the older man. For the most part, they've only made a few public appearances as an item, mostly at high society events Salvatore never thought he'd be caught dead at. They receive plenty of sideways glances, but it seems no one sees fit to question Simon. He's such a poof, anyone would be able to tell with a single glance. It'd be more unusual if he didn't bring a man with him, really.

Salvatore isn't at all what he was expecting, but be supposes that isn't such a bad thing. Simon is endlessly optimistic, positive and friendly to the point of pissing Salvatore off some days, but with something darker underneath he can't quite identify. Whatever it is has Salvatore's hackles bristling as much as it shoots a thrill through him.

More than that, though, Simon seems to actively enjoy having Salvatore around. And, despite himself, Salvatore's been enjoying it too. They both know the truth of the situation, that this isn't real, but it isn't really so bad to pretend. Hell, this fake relationship is more enjoyable than his actual one at times.

(Salvatore ignores the pang of guilt that shoots through him whenever he thinks about that. Bruno would understand. This is just business.)

It takes Salvatore a second to realize he's become lost in thought, his hands stilling in the middle of tying his tie. He feels his face grow warm as he averts his gaze and quickly finishes the knot. Once he's done, he smoothes down the front of his jacket.

"You ain't so bad either," he says after a moment. "I- I mean, this ain't the worst, I guess. It's been... fun, yeah." Change the subject, idiot. "So, you said this was a fundraiser for, uh... some Usher Foundation?" Is he remembering that right? "Or something like that." He hates how stupid he sounds right now.

[hostica-a]

Question. Has Oswald ever been struggling with his sexuality?

𝓟𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖚𝖎𝖓 ; Headcanon meme

Yes  and  no.  In  the  sense  that  Oswald  always  knew  what  his  sexuality  was.  He  was  aware  of it  about  as  young  as  13,  but,  of  course,  he  just  ignored  it  for  the  most  part.  He  didn't  date,  he  didn't  have  relationships,  he  told  himself  a  combination  of  he  had  better  things  to  do  and  also  that  the  right  guy  would  find  him  one  day  if  it  was  ever  meant  to  be.  I  think  a  part  of  him  was  scared  of  it.  Well  not  of  "it"  but  more  of  other  peoples  reactions  to  it.  Though  he  would  never  admit  it,  his  mother  was  probably  the  main  force  behind  his  fear.  She  had  always  pushed  the  idea  of  him  being  a  ladies  man  and  had  this  idea  that  he  would  find  a  good  woman  and  get  married  and  she  would  have  grandkids  one  day. 

These  were  all  things  that  horrified  Oswald  so  if  he  ever  had  any  doubt  of  what  his  sexuality  was  the  disgust  he  felt  over  the  mere  idea  of  "being  a  ladies  man"  and  finding  a  wife  and  having  children  always  reaffirmed  it  for  him. 

None  the  less,  for  a  while  didn't  wanna  be  known  as  the  "gay  gangster",  he  had  a  weird  feeling  that  would  work  against  the  fearsome  image  he  felt  he  needed  to  build  to  get  on  top  of  the  underworld.  Especially  while  it  was  still  heavily  controlled  by  the  Mafia.  But  those  fears  started  to  melt  away  when  he  met  Ed  and  he  realized  he  had  already  conquered  most  of  the  obstacles  that  had  been  in  his  way  before,  and  whatever  went  on  between  them  happened.  Suddenly  Oswald  wasn't  looking  at  it  as  a  weakness  or  as  something  that  could  be  used  against  him  but  rather  the  opposite.  He  decided  he  was  the  coward  for  not  owning  up  to  himself  and  who  he  really  was  sooner.  And  then  Gotham  ended,  wow,  such  a  good  show  the  version  of  it  that  lives  only  in  my  mind  because  we  just  don't  acknwolage  any  of  the  nightmare  that  happened  after  that. 

Honestly  it  KINDA  depends  on  verse  for  me  and  what  happens  between  Ed  and  Os.  I  guess  the  Gotham  fandom  is  really  my  kingdom  now  so  I  can  say  whatever  I  want  but  should  things  follow  the  forbidden  Gotham  canon  Oswald  is  pretty  reclosted  for  a  while,  or,  he'd  like  to  think  he  is.  But  he  kinda  unlocked  a  part  of  himself  thats  hard  to  lock  back  away.  He  doesn't  start  looking  for  "love"  again  until  much  later.  As  far  as  my  headcanons  go,  in  his  later  years,  Os  dabbled  in  online  dating  and  in  one  verse  he  has  a  complicated  relationship  with  a  male  escort.  Its  not  a  sexual  thing  either,  Oswalds  so  heavily  distrustful  and  touch  adverse   at  this  point  he  wont  let  the  guy  be  physical  with  him.  He's  pretty  much  just  paid  to  ride  around  with  Os  in  his  limo  and  give  him  company,  listen  to  his  woes,  tell  him  he  cares.  They're  never  seen  in  public.  In  the  GOOD  ending,  however,  Ed  and  Os  are  a  power-couple  and  we  all  get  what  we  deserved.  So  yeah,  all  in  all  "yes  and  no".  Os  knows  hes  gay,  and  hes  as  ok  with  it  as  hes  gonna  get  baring  in  mind  past  truamas  and  his  own  risky  life-style  and  homophobic  attuides.  He's  never  directly  told  the  world  he's  gay  but  he's  kind  of  of  the  mind  that  if  you�� don't  know  you're  dense  as  a  doorknob  and  you  don't  deserve  to  know.   Another  funny  tidbit  of  info  is  that  yeah,  Os  still  gets  labeled  as  straight  fairly  often,  not  by  anyone  that  actually  knows  him,  that's  as  funny  to  them  as  it  is  to  him,  but  the  iceberg  lounge  staff  and  almost  all  Oswald's  main  enforcers  are  women.  He's  surrounded  by  women.  People  take  this  as  some  indication  of  his  sexuality  and  it  is,  but  they  look  at  it  the  wrong  way,  they  think  its  because  he  likes  women  but  he  surrounds  himself  with  women  because  he  knows  he  wouldn't  be  strong  enough  not  to  fall  in  love  with  some  hunky  male  body  guard  or  cute  waiter.  My man knows if some cute guy was waiting on him hand and foot or some heart throb was walking around killing and ready to die for him it'd be over.

[iamnmbr3]

My teen-self complained that Draco fans "dont make sense", or that the Epilogue, Harry/Ginny are well written and BOY was I in for a rude awaking once I read HP as an adult with critical thinking skills. The Epilogue reverting back to stereotypes/no change in society, HarryGinny are barely close friends with schocking little screentime to develop a deep connection of any kind, Draco is an underage boy ,raised by DeathEaters, performing DeathEater tasks under duress, who's story got pushed aside

hahaha yeah. I knew that drarry existed as a ship but I never got it till I fell into the drarry fandom and then reread the books and wow. I mean. of course. no one is obligated to like or ship any particular pairing.

but yeah. I do personally feel drarry has a strong basis in canon (which is HILARIOUS bc I know JKR didn't do it on purpose and hates the ship) and I also feel that the Harry Ginny relationship was very poorly written and developed. honestly in book 5 they have better chemistry and Ginny is better written but then in book 6 she becomes The Love Interest TM and their interactions become super weird and her character basically changes to a Mary Sue. and yeah. Draco is hugely complicated and interest and drarry just has so much potential for exploring themes of redemption and forgiveness and so much more.

plus it's weird how JKR insists Draco is THE EVILZZZZ TM but then she presents Snape and Regulus as heroes who totally got redeemed when both of them willingly became Death Eaters at the height of Voldemort's power despite fully knowing what they were getting into. and Draco not identifying Harry at Malfoy manner put his life and the lives of his parents in tremendous jeopardy. But he risked that. He risked everything. just to give them all a chance at escape. I do feel like his potential for redemption and for continuing development of his character got sidelined a bit in book 7 bc JKR got mad that book 6 made drarry so popular. which is a shame bc Draco is a really interesting, flawed, complex grey character. JKR likes that about Snape. but when it comes to Draco not so much. Well. we know why that probably is.

[greenandhazy]

So the premises of the "honest way of life" you're talking about are

1. at the expense of career

2. within an extremely limited range

3. based on ambiguous reasons such as "the way the characters are written"

right? Why do you think it can only be achieved in Hollywood?

oh congratulations, man, this is some of the most successful moving of the goalposts I've ever seen. I especially love the last one -- "Why do you think it can only be achieved in Hollywood," as if I were the one going around telling people their ship was indefensible rather than the reverse. I literally said I was willing to believe that Thomas could achieve happiness in Yorkshire in my last response but ok.

(1) The expense of what career? Thomas will have a job when he goes. It will be roughly in line with the career he already has, and there are opportunities for something else to grow out of it when he gets to Hollywood if he wants. Or are you suggesting that because Billy Haines had to get a new career, Thomas will, too? Because that just... doesn't track.

(2) Within an extremely limited range... genuinely not sure what this means, but my assumption is you mean either geographically, or in terms of the number of people he can be out to. I put it to you that, having previously been out to "the residents and staff of Downton Abbey" in the geographic range of "Downton Abbey," with the possible extension of whatever gay community can be sustained by a nearby city of 100,000 people, Thomas will actually enjoy being out to a significant number of people in the film industry employed at multiple studios in the heart of Hollywood, extended to a gay community sustained by a city of 1.2 million people, especially given that said city has been known to be unusually accepting of LGBTQ people compared to cities of similar size. I'm going to include a quote here from William J. Mann's biography of Billy Haines:

Certain things weren't acknowledged in public, of course, but in a world that both denied and decried their existence, those who lived on the social edge found Hollywood offered authenticity that would have been difficult to achieve anywhere else.

(3) All right, fine, I'll be specific, even though neither of your messages have done the courtesy of the same. Ramon Novarro was murdered because he regularly hired sex workers to come to his home, and two men used this as a ruse to beat and rob him. This was not his fault in any way, shape, or form. It was a tragedy and an act of cruelty that can't be mitigated. Anyone could theoretically be burgled and killed in a similar manner; inasmuch as Novarro's death could attributed to being gay (which your first message seemed to imply with "other gay stars," although I know you didn't give Novarro's name), it's due to the fact that his hiring of sex workers allowed his murderers to access his home. I personally don't think Guy Dexter seems likely to have similar habits. If he does, I don't see any reason to think he would face the same fate as Novarro, given that it's just so statistically unlikely.

Rudolph Valentino, while probably gay, seems to have lived a much more closeted life and struggled with his sexual orientation. He was Catholic and religious, and struggled with alcoholism. Nothing I have seen suggests that Guy Dexter in the text seems likely to be religious or alcoholic or deeply conflicted about his sexual orientation. And yeah, that is necessarily going to be an ambiguous reason because unfortunately the character never takes the opportunity to say "I'm not going to become an alcoholic or be murdered, by the way" onscreen. Sorry.

And again, I don't think Thomas living in Hollywood is the only happy ending for him. I think it's a plausible happy ending, and I'm willing to accept it as canon. Which it is.

If you want to rebut this or move the goal posts again or if you have some more negatives you'd like me to disprove, you can go ahead and reblog this and we'll talk. Maybe. I'm not putting effort into responding to anonymous messages anymore.

[crystalsprinklescake]

Was giving my mom OFMD to watch a mistake? (Read in tags)

[felteverywhere]

sorry i’ve been a bit of a shit with actually getting online. my laptop has been behaving weird and i’ve been trying to get stuck into work again and it’s really sucked the energy out of me. home again tomorrow so we’ll see how i go trying to do some more replies. i think maybe some new stuff might help but there are some threads i want to get through first

[wildflowerluver]

petals of a flower

emily prentiss x fem!reader

5 times the team suspects emily has a girlfriend and the 1 time it gets confirmed

cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as girlfriend, homophobia, case details involving homosexual couples, slight injuries

wc: 3.4k

༺♡༻

emily prentiss is a mystery when she first joins the team.

garcia digs up the standard: parents, place of birth, etc. but the team doesn’t really know her.

they learn a lot about her as she settles into her position over the months. her high school emo phase had been a highlight. 

but there was one part of emily’s life the team still didn’t know about. 

her sexuality.

it’s not that emily’s ashamed, not in the slightest. she’s just nervous about the response. the bau team is her family and she doesn’t want to lose that. 

any girls night or dinner with the team where partners get brought up, emily does everything in her power to change the topic. she’s simply not ready. she’s not ready to tell them about you. 

you’re emily’s favorite person. the best girlfriend she could ask for. 

she just isn’t ready for her two worlds to collide.

1. flowers

a bouquet of flowers sits on emily’s desk when the agent arrives for work. they’re white lilies, wrapped delicately in brown paper and secured with a thin piece of string. a card is tucked in the top.

“uh oh,” derek muses from his own space. “someone has a secret admirer!”

not secret to her. they’re the ones who don’t know about the sender.

emily stands in front of the bouquet, hiding the card under a folder on her desk. if anyone saw the note, they would demand for her to read it outloud. 

“you know white lilies in particular are a popular funeral flower,” spencer jumps in with a fact.

“come on, pretty boy. it’s a romantic gesture. no need to drag down the mood.”

“actually morgan they’re used in weddings too. mainly christian ones but still they’re-”

“reid!”

the sound of derek and spencer’s arguing is drowned out as emily brought the flowers up to her nose. 

soft and sweet. 

she didn’t even need to read the card to know who they were from. 

you had first pointed out white lilies when on your first date with emily. 

it was when you were walking downtown after dinner. vendors had set up outside in the shopping district including one of the floral shops.

emily had stopped you in front of the bins of flowers. “which ones are your favorite?”

you didn’t have to think for very long. “white lilies,” you answered honestly. “they represent rebirth and purity.”

she hummed a noise of content beside you.

you reached into your bag to pull out your wallet, quickly grabbing the right amount of cash and handing it to the florist who sat outside. 

“to new beginnings,” you beamed, offering the pre-wrapped flowers to emily. her cheeks turned a rosy pink, a stark contrast to the white petals. 

she kissed you for the first time that night. 

ever since then, white lilies have become your mutual flower. 

“any idea who they’re from?”

that’s j.j. who asks after walking over to her with a stack of papers. 

“no idea.”

emily hides her smile in the petals. 

2. minimal loss

there’s a small group waiting in the quantico parking lot.

it’s late. the lights only illuminate a small section of the space. 

you’ve never picked up emily from work after cases. you hadn’t even been near quantico before today. but, this case was different.

emily let you know in advance she was going undercover. it wasn’t supposed to be for long, just enough time for her and her coworker reid to investigate an underground cult in colorado. 

it was hard to avoid the details of the case when every news station in the country was reporting on it.

you were cleaning around your apartment and had the news on as background, mostly to just hear the weather report. it had switched to live footage from colorado. your stomach dropped when you remembered that’s where emily was. 

“this is a special report from la plata county, colorado.

we're reminded of jim mckay's words from munich– our greatest hopes and our worst fears are seldom realized.

let's hope it's not the latter as we wait to hear the fate of the women, children, and f.b.i.agents inside the building.”

an explosion.

you covered your mouth, stomach churning at the site. emily was inside. oh my god, emily.

you sent a long string of texts; hoping, begging, praying that she was alive. 

when your fun buzzes hours later, you race to see what the message is. it’s from emily. she was okay, a little shaken up but okay. 

tears well in your eyes. you knew her job was dangerous but this was the closest you had ever gotten to losing her. you offered to pick her up when she landed and she agreed without hesitation. 

there were a few other cars in the lot when you arrived.

they had parked relatively close to each other. you stayed a ways away. you didn’t know these people and without talking to emily, you didn’t want to introduce yourself. 

they looked familiar but you didn’t quite recognize them. there was a blonde woman and a young boy, another blonde woman with bright accessories, and then a man. who on emily’s team had a kid?

you sat on top of the hood of your car, picking at the skin around your nails as you waited. 

it didn’t take long, nor was it difficult to spot the team when they arrived; two black suv’s pulled in one after the other. 

you slid down the hood to stand up straight. you need to see her, make sure she was okay.

the team offloaded at once, each member getting out of the vehicle and distributing their luggage. 

all eyes went to emily as she stumbled out of the car and hastily grabbed her bags. she had gotten hurt on this case, it was no secret everyone wanted to check up on her. she didn’t say anything before she headed in the direction of the car that was parked slightly away from the rest.

they couldn’t exactly make out the features of the person standing beside it but the way emily walked told them they were someone important. 

you surged towards her when she was close enough, taking her face in your hands.

“oh em,” you breathed out, voice wavering with tears.

“i’m okay,” she promised, thumb wiping away the tears that fell.

emily pulled you into her, hand cradling your head as you cried. she knew this was a lot more scary for you than it was for her. 

though the team had dispersed to greet their respected family members, no one failed to see the scene unfolding in the distance.

you hugged each other like you would never be able to again. 

they all knew that emotion like that wasn’t platonic. 

3. ring

a long weekend typically warrants news from some bau member.

whether it’s about a goal jack scored in soccer or a new house derek had renovated, people always seemed to have something going on.

emily sat at her desk and she scribbled away at files. one hand gripped the pen while the other sat on her knee. she twisted a band that sat on her left ring finger. it wasn’t an engagement ring but she liked wearing it on the one finger that connected to her heart. 

atop the small gold band sat a gemstone, the one to match the month of your birth.

you had gotten the ring when on a trip. a shop you visited had sold them and you picked out one as a gift. as cliche as it was, you thought of it as a promise ring. 

despite emily not being a huge jewelry person, she wore it every day. 

the bullpen was a comfortable quiet. other members of the team sat at either their desks or in their office and worked away. the silence made it easy to focus. 

a sharp gasp sounded behind her.

penelope had entered the bullpen, presumably to say hi under the false assumption she needed another cup of coffee. both of her hands had covered her mouth, effectively covering her shocked expression. “what is that!”

emily quirked her eyebrow at what the tech analyst was talking about. she was just at her same old desk doing the same old paperwork. she finally saw penelope’s line of vision and followed it down to her hand. 

oh. it did kinda look like an engagement ring. 

it wouldn’t be the most surprising thing in the world for someone to come back engaged after a long weekend, even if no one had been aware of their relationship. 

emily barely had any time to answer before derek was circling his desk to find the source of the commotion.

“what’s all the yelling for?”

“emily has a ring. she has a ring, derek!”

derek’s eyes too fell on her hand. “woah princess! you’re getting hitched and didn’t tell us?”

“who’s getting married?”

the entire team, minus hotch and rossi who remained behind closed doors, had circled emily. 

“you didn’t tell us you were dating someone!”

emily held her hands up to silence the group. “guys, guys. it’s not an engagement ring.”

a collective sigh echoed.

“it’s just a ring with my birthstone in it. my parents got it for me when i was younger and i found it when cleaning over the weekend.” emily doesn’t feel guilty for lying. it was a simple white lie, not something detrimental. 

the explanation seems to suffice the group who then begins to disperse. 

spencer is the only one who picks up that emily’s birthstone is an opal.

and an opal is not the gem on the ring.

4. home

nobody thinks much of it when emily neglects a saturday hang out in favor of having some personal work to get done.

derek, penelope, and j.j. all get together instead.

the girls drag derek around to a few shops they want to go to before penelope stops at a window with a gasp. “oh my god, look! that mug looks exactly like the one emily broke. we have to get it.”

there was no stopping the tech analyst who had a killer memory. it wasn’t false. emily had smashed her favorite mug earlier in the week accidentally and moped for days.

“we should surprise her! she said she had some personal stuff to do so she’s definitely home.”

derek shrugs. “i don’t know, baby girl. she probably doesn’t want to be bothered.”

j.j. digs around in her purse before pulling out a folder. “i did have to drop off her medical forms for her to sign.”

“you two have no boundaries.”

penelope is the one to knock on emily’s apartment door. she’s practically bursting with excitement. she loves her team and knowing how upset emily was over the mug, she can’t wait to give it. 

you’re sitting on emily’s couch when there’s a knock at the door.

the two of you haven’t officially moved in together yet, though more times than none you’re at hers. the lease on your own apartment isn’t up yet though once it is, you and her will finally be living together.

saturdays where emily is home are semi-rare. cases often stretch into weekends. she’s thankfully home today, though a few chores around the home dominated her to-do list. she worked upstairs while you relaxed on the couch. 

you were slightly confused as to who would be at the door. 

“can you get the door, baby?” emily called from upstairs. 

“got it!”

you trudged towards the entrance, sliding the peephole cover to the side to peer out. three people stood outside, two women and one man. they looked familiar. you had definitely seen them before. 

the picture emily kept of her team on the wall flashed in your memory. that and the time where you had picked her up at quantico. oh, they were members of her team. 

you finally opened the door. it was slightly amusing to see the three agents' faces twist in confusion when it was in fact not emily answering the door. 

“can i help you?” 

none of the three speak for a few moments. they’re clearly trying to rack their brain as you looked familiar to them too. 

“oh, um, yes!” the woman with colorful accessories stutters out. “is emily here?”

you open the door a little wider, motioning with your head for them to come in. once the door is closed, you leave them in the entranceway and head in a bit further.

“em!” you call up the stairs. “people are here for you!”

there’s a distance thud. “coming!”

you figure whatever they need to talk about is none of your business. when emily comes downstairs, you smile softly at her. “i’ll leave you all alone. i’ll be upstairs.”

you squeeze her shoulder when you walk by and within a minute, you’re out of sight.

“not to sound rude but why are you guys here? is the team okay?”

derek nods his head. “everything’s good, princess. though i have to ask, who was that?”

emily doesn’t have an excuse. referring to you as ‘just a friend’ feels wrong. plus, she hasn’t discussed if you’re ready for her team to know either. she then notices the package in penelope’s hand.

“what’s that?”

the original question gets blocked out by penelope’s squeal and presentation of the gift. 

derek and j.j. share a look. penelope’s not a profiler, she doesn’t pick up on some things, but emily’s deflection tells the agents all they need to know. 

they stay quiet, though both of their hearts soar.

no wonder emily has seemed so happy. 

5. case

emily’s not one to let her emotions impact a case.

she has a routine to prepare herself: kiss you goodbye, tell you she loves you, go to quantico, read the case, familiarize the victims, solve the case. all in that order.

this one throws her off. 

lgbtq couples murdered in their cars, all wearing formal clothing presumably from their date. 

emily’s mind immediately goes to you and her. though this case is states away, the unsub doesn’t have a much different mindset than a lot of people. 

she internalizes it as best she can, wanting to perform at her best to help solve this case before more people die. it works at first. emily’s able to go to the crime scene, distinguish evidence, and build a profile with ease. that is until two more bodies are discovered.

and one of them looks like you. 

j.j. pins the pictures on the board and emily’s stomach drops. she knows it’s not you. you’re miles away and you had just texted her a few minutes ago with a picture of the coffee you had gotten. but the internalized fear is very much present.

theories bounce around the room. why were these two targeted? sexuality aside, what about them was attractive to the unsub?

emily’s throat goes dry. she can’t do this anymore. 

“hotch, can i talk to you?”

the room goes quiet. hotch’s eyes flicker back and forth from rossi to j.j. before going back to emily. “of course.”

emily doesn’t stop at an empty conference room. there’s plenty in the precinct and yet they end up outside. emily sits on one of the steps and begins to toy with the ring on her finger.

hotch takes a seat beside her. 

“hotch i need to be pulled from this case.”

emily’s surprised she’s able to say the full sentence without breaking down. 

“okay,” he begins slowly. “can i ask why?”

internally, hotch knows. he picked up on emily’s behavioral change from the second the case got presented. 

“hotch, i-” the words seem to get lost on the tip of her tongue.

she shoves her palms into her eyes. she's flustered, embarrassed, scared.

she should be able to do her job. cases don’t usually get to her. it’s difficult to not feel helpless. 

a hand moves to rest on her shoulder.

“it’s okay you know.”

he doesn’t need to finish. what he’s implying is obvious.

the tears brimming in emily’s eyes spill over hot and fast. 

hotch moves closer to her, arm circling around her. all superiority dynamics have faded. it’s friend to friend, a moment of vulnerability. 

emily’s felt more accepted from his four words than she has in years.

+1 meeting

emily always goes into work before you.

between her commute with traffic and desire to get there a bit early, she’s up and running before you even get out of bed. 

naturally, you like to help her out as much as possible.

it comes in the form of packing lunch, organizing files, packing her bag (both personal and one for cases).

this morning was a complete blur. you had worked late the previous night and slept in before work. emily got ready around you, shaking you awake a few moments before she was set to leave.

when emily departed and you made your way downstairs, you noticed what she had forgotten. a brown folder stamped with the fbi logo sat next to an empty lunch bag. you frowned. file aside, you didn’t want her skipping lunch.

you took your phone out and sent her a text.

‘hi baby. you forgot a file and your lunch. can i stop by with them?’

she responds while you’re in the middle of getting dressed for the day. 

‘any chance you can bring them at noon-ish? we have meetings all morning but a break for lunch.’

you beam. seeing your girlfriend at her workplace is new. sure you’d seen pictures of the bullpen, mostly when emily showed you her desk whenever you gave her a new trinket to add, but you had never been there.

instead of packing a meal, you stopped downtown at one of emily’s favorite restaurants for take-out. a little surprise.

quantico is intimidating, even from the signage you see on the drive over. 

you park in the visitors lot and follow the instructions emily had given you on where to go. security was mandatory and a visitors pass was needed to access the floor. 

once exiting the elevator, you stood nervously. emily was at her desk, though so were her coworkers. you look out of place; reusable bag and folder in your hands and casual clothing adorning your body.

she finally looked up and out the glass door, smile enveloping her face as she raised her hand to motion for you to come in. the agents sitting at their desks naturally gravitate towards the commotion. all of them recognized you. 

the opal necklace the notice sitting around your neck suddenly makes sense. 

“any chance you can get them to stop staring?” you ask once emily stops in front of you.

“hi baby,” she muses, disregarding the question with amusement. “sorry to make you trek all the way out here.”

her hand finds its way to the small of your back, guiding you over to her desk. she lets you have the chair while she sits on the surface. you fight the urge to roll your chair forward and rest your head on her leg. “don’t worry about it. i brought you takeout from that thai place we like.”

emily beams. 

“you’re too good to me.”

“you deserve it.”

you stop taking the containers out of the bag and peer up at her. 

emily’s hand moves to rest on your cheek before she ducks down to kiss you gently. 

it’s revealing. you both know everyone in the room witnessed the act of public affection. “i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

when the team finally confronts emily, she has no problem boasting. 

“this is y/n,” emily introduces. she glances at you to which you tilt your head, lips upturned. the next two words come a moment later. “my girlfriend.”

like white lilies, this was a new beginning. one where she could be more than open about her lover. 

maybe the team's suspicion had been right, maybe some of it had been wrong. that didn’t matter now. all emily cared about could be open about your relationship. 

rebirth and purity. 

[kkami-writes]

waiting for us ― chapter twenty five. opening up cw. implied/referenced self-harm, homophobia, neglectful parents, kinda getting outted (tl;dr at the end) wc. 1.9k

Jisung is already sitting at one of the tables near the back, two drinks in front of him. When you slide into the seat in front of him, he slides one of the coffees to you with a smile. 

“I asked Ryujin what your usual was, hope it’s ok,” You move to take a sip through the straw before nodding happily. “You’re just like lixie, you know? He has to have his coffee incredibly sweet,” “At least I’m better than Hyunjin, who downs three americanos in one sitting,” 

“Touche” 

It’s silent for a few seconds and you squirm a little in your seat, anxious energy rolling off of you in waves. Jisung can tell, he knows the signs of anxiety like the back of his hand. 

“Yn” He calls out softly and your head flies up at the sound of your name. Your real name. It makes you flush involuntarily, it’s something you’re not used to, not having heard it in quite awhile. Minghao had refused to call you Mio, but he always called you by a nickname instead. He knew you didn’t want to be referred to as yn. 

“...Jisung,” It happens again. That all encompassing shudder running through every inch of your body. You shiver on reflex. Jisung has a similar stupid grin on his face like Jeongin had when you had confirmed your soulmate connection. 

“So um. You wanted to talk about something?” You try to get straight to the point, your anxiety hitting a boiling point. 

“Right! Um, so! We, as in the guys, talked a bit about how we were going to go about this and I just wanted to let you know what we came up with. If you don’t like anything please let me know and we’ll figure out another solution,” You nod your head, showing Jisung that you were listening. “We all would like to take you on a date, each of us individually first before anyone gets a second date or even group dates. I assume group dates would be too overwhelming for you right now,” Again your head nods. You do not even want to THINK about a group date with all eight of them. The amount of chaos that would bring is unimaginable.  

“If you’re free today and only if you want to, I was wondering if um. You’d like to do our date today? Nothing fancy or crazy, just maybe ordering takeout and watching some movies? I know it’s kinda simple but I wanted to keep it casual because I know some of the others might go all out because that’s just who they are and they wanna impress you. Something to kind of? Ease you in, nothing too overwhelming,” 

You can tell Jisung is as nervous as you are with how he fiddles with his hands as he asks you out. It’s endearing and you feel a lot more reassured that you’re not the only one feeling like this. 

“Yeah, that sounds great sung, I’d love to,” The nickname makes him flush but it doesn’t stop him from smiling. You found yourself definitely falling in love with that cute heart shaped grin of his.

“Um, was that all?” You ask because it seems like there was something else on his mind. You tilt your head slightly. “Yeah,” He swallowed thickly. “Um, so Jeongin let everyone know about your…issue,” You blink, nodding your head slowly, unsure where Jisung was going with this. “But I wanted to tell you that I have known since we started texting,” At this your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You’re not mad, but you’re curious as to why. 

“He let me know because I’ve struggled with anxiety for awhile, and he was hoping that maybe we would get close and I could help you with different coping strategies. But that was not the only reason why,” He hesitates for a second, as if contemplating what to say next. Instead of words, he slides the sleeves of his hoodie up and places his arms on the table, forearms up. You can’t help the gasp that falls from your lips. Staring back up at your are all too familiar scars. Though these ones have healed, they are still very much visible. 

When you look back up at Jisung his smile has morphed into a sad one. He pulls his arms back, letting his sleeves fall back down over his hands. You frown. How is it that this sunshine boy, someone you don’t think you’ve even seen sad or upset since you met him, struggled with something like this? He seemed so happy. It’s then you realize your blatant naivety. You should know better, that you really can never know what someone is going through. The fact that you had just assumed they all had perfect lives pissed you off for a second. 

“When we said it wasn’t easy in the beginning we really weren’t kidding. I was…rather difficult to deal with at the start. I had been friends with Chan and Changbin hyung since middle school. We were practically inseparable even though we were different ages. Even before I got my soulmark I knew I was starting to have feelings for my friends. I struggled a lot with my sexuality, my parents having instilled the idea that marriage should only be between a man and a woman. So that left me really confused and scared. When I did turn 16, imagine my shock when I had 8 whole soulmates, 7 of them being men. My soulmark basically outed me to my parents,” 

“They were…not pleased to say the least. They had even tried to get me to sever the soulmate bond, only wanting me to keep yours but I had refused. Before this my parents were rarely around, both of them workaholics and now with a ‘gay’ son they stayed away more often. I often slept over at Chan’s house, his parents becoming more like my own. Due to being neglected by my parents, I didn’t really know how to ask for affection and I lashed out a lot. I even threw my wallet at Seungmin once,” He chuckles at his, but it’s rather devoid of any real feelings. “I didn’t know how to cope with my feelings and so I turned to hurting myself, because I  thought I was to blame for all my problems and therefore should punish myself. But the worst was when we met Hyunjin. We did not get along, and I admit a lot of it was my fault. If I’m honest I was incredibly jealous of him. He was gorgeous, rich and had a pair of parents who supported him,” 

“I really thought he hated me too, we’d get into arguments over the smallest things. We often had lots of sleepovers together. But during one of the first ones we had with all of us, minus you of course, I had felt out of place, like I didn’t belong there. That I didn’t deserve to be there with them, that I was the one who was ruining things and making it hard on everyone. I had excused myself to the bathroom but I had gone to cut. I guess I had been in there too long because it was Hyunjin who came to find me. He walked in while I was washing off the blood and I thought that he was gonna laugh at me, or worse, use it against me in one of our arguments. But he didn’t. He practically tackled me to the ground. He was crying and holding me close, begging me to not hurt myself anymore. It was then I realized that by hurting myself, I was also hurting my soulmates even more. You know how loud Hyunjin is so it didn’t take long for everyone else to come upstairs,” 

“We had a pretty serious talk that day but it was for the best. I had promised to stop and that I’d reach out if I needed help, that I’d learn to ask for affection that I was so desperately craving. Of course, it wasn’t easy. It’s hard to unlearn habits and just because I didn’t cut didn’t mean I didn’t stop feeling bad. But we managed and the guys never let me stew in my feelings for too long. I relapsed once during senior year but besides that, I am proud to say that I am two years sober,” 

You’ve been silent during his whole story, tears stinging at your eyes. Your fingers dig into your thighs, trying to find the right words to say but nothing feels enough. 

“Hey. It’s ok. I didn’t tell you my story to get you to tell me yours. I wanted to tell you so you know that you’re not alone in how you feel. That I would never judge you and neither would the others. But we do want to help you, if you’ll let us. I won’t lie to you and tell you it’ll be easy. Even now I still get the urge, the itch to just feel that sting. But I'm really lucky to have the others,”

You have your bottom lip between your teeth, biting hard that you’re sure you can taste the coppery tang of blood. Still, you nod your head, it’s barely visible but Jisung still notices. 

“Yeah? You’ll let us help you?” You nod more firmly this time, still unable to find your voice yet. “I’m glad,” And even though you’re not looking at him, you can practically hear the smile on his face. “Then there is one last thing. It’s a rather big step and you can tell me to fuck off if you want. Do you happen to have what you use to cut on you?” Again you nod. “Would you be comfortable giving it to me? I can keep it safe for you, yeah?” 

Hesitation is written all over your face so Jisung waits, and he’s nothing but patient as you all but struggle with a couple of inner demons. You’re not sure how long you two have been sitting there but you finally move to dig through your bag, pulling out the small pocket knife. Jisung holds out this hand for you and with shaky fingers you place it in his palm, pulling away quickly before you can take it back. The smile on his face is soft as he pockets it. 

“Hey. This is a big step. I’m so proud of you. Thank you so much for trusting me,” It's these words that finally break you, tears falling down your face. How sad is it that you can’t even remember the last time someone had told you that, if ever? 

Jisung can feel his heart break and there’s nothing more he wants to do then slide next to you and hold you close. He doesn’t know how you’d react to that so he just sits, letting you take the moment for yourself. 

Thankfully it’s just a few tears, wiping them away and sniffling softly. “ ‘m sorry,” You murmur under your breath andJisung almost doesn’t hear it. 

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re fine, I don’t mind. Are you ok now?” You nod, trying to pull yourself together and Jisung gives you a soft reassuring smile. “Ok, enough sad talk. Are you still down for watching some movies? I’d understand if you weren’t,” 

“No, I’d still like that a lot,” Jisung’s smile gets even bigger if possible. 

“Ok, lets go. Oh uh- sorry in advance, the apartment might be a little messy. It’s hard living with two gym bros and a painter who thinks any white surface is the perfect canvas,” 

“Am I going to your apartment, or a mancave? Be honest,”

“Yes,” TL;DR !!! jisung opens up about his own struggle with self-harm. Having come from a very conservative family, he was outted as bisexual from his soulmark and his parents were not happy. They neglected him and jisung didn't know how to ask for affection from his soulmates and lashed out a lot. He turned to self-harm because he couldn't deal with his feelings. he is currently two years sober and asks yn if she'll agree to let them help her. in the end, yn hands over her pocket knife to jisung for safe keeping and then they go back to sung's appartment for their movie date. previous | masterlist | next waiting for us taglist (50/50) send an ask or sign up here!: @abbiestearsricochet @boo-ven9eance @adorawritesalot @melleus @inlovewithallmusic @alnex05 @borahae-reads @zonked-times @yoonrimin @slay-and-gay @loverlixie @katsukis1wife @realrintaro @0325tiny @adestayskz @minhwa @littleaprilcherryblossom @soobery @lillithathecat @ilychee08 @everglowdaisies @boi-bi-ahaha @yandere-stories @orchid-mantis-petals @minhoie @popcatx0 @tara-drabbles @super-btstrash-posts @gemi-moon @skz-streamer @jaiuneamesolitaiire @bozotwt @enchantedgrunge @corrodedthorn @143lix @ashitshowforalot @xrvrqs @lynlyndoll @txtandroll @kawennote09 @liknws @ritzy-dream-boy @hannieslove @hello-2-u-from-me @vampcharxter @jisuperboard @surefornext @puppy-minnie @freckleboilix @imwithurmother

[2kiran]

“COD MEN REACTING TO YOU COMING OUT AS GENDERFLUID”

characters simon “ghost” riley. john “soap” mactavish. john “bravo six” price. könig. alejandro vargas. keegan p. russ genre fluff cw lowercase typing. slight hurt/comfort. suggestive dialogues. mentions of homophobia. implied violence. swearing. google translated language.

simon riley

• he's really really confused

• he knows about the Igbtq+ community as he’s seen people of the same gender on the base giving romantic affection to each other

• he just doesn’t know what it means

• after you explain it to him, he blinks a few times and goes like “oh”

• he doesn’t mean it in a bad way, he just doesn’t care about that very much

• he’s supportive and protective of you, if anyone badmouths you he’s already beating their ass

• if you’re already dating him, he immediately accepts you

• “that’s fine with me as long as you’re comfortable with who you are.” he would tell you as he holds your hand

• if you’re crying while telling him, he would try his best in comforting you by giving you an awkward pat on the back

• he’d research more about your gender and the community

• he’d ask you which name or pronouns you’re identifying with almost everyday just to make sure he doesn’t offend you

• “that's my boy/girl/lover”, “atta boy/girl/love”, and “good boy/girl/love”

• he tries to refer to you neutrally, just in case

• “mmhf, you’re s’good to me.”

• “k-keep goin’, love.”

john mactavish

• he has probably heard about it at least once

• he’s curious, so he might’ve stumbled across some information about it

• “that’s nice.” he smiles at you

• he’s really supportive of you

• if you’re already dating him, he’ll tell you “you’re my lover and nothing’s gonna change that.” and pulls you closer to him

• if you’re crying while telling him, he tries to crack a joke to make you feel better and tells you that it’s completely okay with him

• “yer s’ cute!” he'll exclaim while squishing your cheeks once you’ve calmed down

• he’ll remember which name or pronouns you identified with last week and attempts to find a pattern like it’s some kind of mystery and he's trying to solve it

• “i can’t believe i’m your boyfriend!” you caught him speaking to himself, well, more like a picture of you on his phone

• definitely giggles when seeing a photo of you, in an appreciative way

• begins to be curious about his own identity

• “wait... so what’s my sexuality? pansexual? or–”

• has his own identity crisis

• he’d spend his time locked in his room trying to figure it out

• after thinking about his identity for so long, he starts to say the stupidest shit

• “wait... what if... i’m not soap? am i even john mactavish?! what is happening?!”

• he nearly gets a panic attack because of that

• he also says corny pick up lines

• “hey, are yer a cupcake? 'cause yer so sweet.” with a wink

• “can’t believe i didn’t make ya do this t’me sooner, hah.”

• “ya taste s'good, mmph.”

john price

• he’d also be confused at first

• “i’m proud of you.” he’d say while having a loving smile painted on his lips

• very supportive

• he’d attempt to help you be more comfortable with your gender

• immediately researches once he gets to his office

• frequently compliments you

• if you’re already dating him, he just accepts you with kisses pressed onto your face

• if you’re crying while telling him, he’ll immediately pull you into a hug and telling you that there’s nothing wrong with that and that it’s okay

• when you’re feeling masculine, he’d go “just me or you’re a lot handsome today?”

• when you’re feeling feminine, he’d go “i got you this. it's pretty, just like you.”

• when you’re feeling more neutral, he’d go “you look very amazing, as always.”

• protective of you, he’s already tasing the people who badmouthed you

• he shows you off, especially to laswell

• “that’s my lover right there.” he boasts proudly. laswell responds with, “i get it, price. go do your own work.”

• “fuck, love. right there.”

• ”ah, you're g-gonna be the– mm... death of me.”

könig

• “huh?”

• poor könig is afraid that he’ll misgender you

• spends his entire night researching about it

• he’ll frequently ask you what you’re identifying with

• he’s trying his best

• you have the extremely tall scary dog privilege whenever you’re with him

• cusses people out in german when they shit talk you

• people are scared of him, so they’ll whisper to each other about you but könig still manages to hear them

• guess who’s got a bloody nose? neither you nor könig!

• bingo! it’s the shit talkers. they'll hide in the infirmary away from you and könig

• if you’re already dating him, he nods along and tells you “that’s nice, mein schatz. what are you.. uh, identifying with currently?” ( my darling )

• if you’re crying while telling him, he immediately tries to comfort you but he doesn’t know what to exactly do to help

• “w-what? it’s okay! that’s great!?” he waves his hands around in panic

• he’s baffled on what to say and do but he’s got the spirit

• he calls you pet names in german

• könig is a proud boyfriend

• he isn’t very poetic, but he tries his best to write poems for you

• he just wants to be romantic for you

• “you look very handsome... like you always are, i-i mean.”

• “beautiful... i mean! uh... you! yeah, i- you're very beautiful.”

• “woah- sorry, sorry! you're just very eye catching.”

• “ah, mein gott. s-slow down, bitte.” (my god) (please)

• “b..bitte! hör nicht auf.”(p..please! don’t stop.)

alejandro vargas

listens intently

definitely a sweetheart

he knows about it because some of the people at his base are also apart of the community

“thank you for telling me, mi corazón.” ( my heart )

he’s really proud of you for coming out

buys you your favorite food

if you’re already dating him, you most likely would’ve came out to him during a date with him or just a stroll near the base

if you’re crying while telling him, he immediately wraps his arm around your shoulders and shushes you, both of you end up just sitting down

he wipes your tears away with the back of his hand

you sobbed more because he was so sweet to you

hands you his handkerchief to wipe away your snot and tears

“you’re just as amazing as ever, mi amor. don’t let anybody say otherwise.” ( my love )

ensures that you’re comfortable

death glares anyone who seems to want to talk badly about you

feel free to use his rank as a way to scare people off because he uses it against them too

“if anyone talks bad about you, you tell them that you’ll tell colonel vargas about it and that he won’t be tolerative about the situation.”

he gets really curious about it sometimes so expect to be bombarded with questions every now and then

“tell me i’m doing good, please, mi vida?” ( my life )

“d-demasiado, cariño. ay dios mío. hng– se siente tan bien. mierda.” ( t-too much, sweetheart. oh my god. hng– feels so good. fuck. )

keegan p. russ

literally does not care

he’d say “good for you?” in a questioning tone because in his head you’re acting like he asked you

you most likely came out to him while he was cleaning his gun

“keegan, i’m genderfluid.” he glances at you, “ok.” then he focuses on whatever he was doing again, “that’s it?” you were confused, “i got something to do, kid.”

it wasn’t obvious at first that he supported you

you just thought that he was neutral about it

until a rookie on base looked at you in disgust when you corrected them about your gender and you’ve never seen keegan more pissed off

multiple people along with their comrades pried keegan off of the rookie who had offended you

“you look at ‘em like that again and i’ll fuckin’ blow your head off.”

you stood there frozen, brain only functioning again when he said that

you didn’t expect keegan to be protective of you like that

if you’re already dating him, he’ll genuinely listen to you while you explain what it means

if you’re crying while telling him, he’ll unintentionally gawk at you while trying to comprehend what you’re saying before he puts his hand on your back

he doesn’t mean to be rude, he just doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say

suddenly recalls that you came out to him one night then he started doing research

he would definitely surprise you with “hey, what’re your pronouns?” leaving you puzzled

bombards you with questions randomly

“sweetheart, please move.”

“please just touch me already.”

masterlist

[callmelola111]

maniac ♡ e.w. oneshot

✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   maniac

synopsis: lies are spewed and truths are revealed when a precarious friend group joins together once more on the 1 year anniversary of their estranged friends disappearance.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.4k

      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns but other than that all descriptors are gender neutral, heavy violence blood and gore, oc deaths, drug use, homophobia (use of the word "dyke" once. i'm a lesbian so don't y'all try to cancel me), heavy language, mentions of reader having anxiety and panic attacks, lots of tension and fighting, ⭑ SMUT ⭑ ... thigh riding (r on e), dom!ellie, sub!reader, fingering (r receiving), pet names (baby, angel, etc.)

a/n: hi lovelies!! long time no see... i know this is a little different from my usual stuff but i honestly really love how it turned out. i spent a good chunk of time planning this out and then even longer writing it so i really hope y'all love it! i want this to be a fresh and exciting read for everyone. if you do end up enjoying the fic, any kind of note is greatly appreciated! ur fave tumblr writers thrive off all y'alls support! anyways, love love love you guys!!! ♡~ lola

To everyone else, it was a summer like any other. But when it came to you and your friends there was something missing this time– someone missing. This absence felt extra heavy as tomorrow would be the 1 year anniversary of August’s disappearance, and the annual camping trip was right on time with it. It had been tradition for as long as you could remember, but its memory was now tainted and left something that used to be so sure, completely up in the air…

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - - 

The five of you squeezed into the small 4 person booth at your favorite local diner; Tj’s Eats. In one seat sat Lottie and Reid. The girl’s loose, dark curls gathered at the boy's shoulders as she snuggled into him, still clearly in the honeymoon stage of their relationship. On the other side of the white marbled table sat Xavier and Ellie, with you perched on her lap, of course, as she insisted to everyone that it was “necessity” and “there really, really was no more room”. In all actuality, all it took was an extra chair to fit the five, but she was your girlfriend, and even after years of dating you still couldn’t get enough of each other. 

“Can someone just say what we’re all thinking, please! I can’t with this tension,” Lottie complained, finally snapping out of the cuddle fest with her red-headed boyfriend.

“What are we all thinking Lottie, huh? Since you know everything,” Xavier retaliated, guising his irritation with a poorly crafted remark. 

“Don’t be fucking mean,” she said, kicking him under the table.

“Yeah seriously chill out,” Reid echoed. 

“God, enough with this shit, you guys are driving me insane!” Ellie butted in. You, however, paid no mind to this type of bullshit, as fights like this had become a frequent occurrence in your group of friends ever since that godforsaken night. So you continued to down your chocolate shake and drown out the bickering with a light hum. That is, until you were rudely interrupted by Xavier’s insulting words.

“You’re being real fucking quiet over there, Y/n. Do you really have nothing to say? You can’t just tune us out forever. We’re your fucking friends.”

You felt your hands balled into tight fists, “Fine. You want me to say something? I’ll say something–my brother is still missing and if you’re even thinking of going on that stupid fucking trip this year, you can count me out.”

“Not going on that trip isn’t gonna magically bring him back. August is gone and we can’t stop living our lives because of it,” he retorted, going just a tad bit too far. This was the last straw and quickly sent you up and out of your warm place in Ellie’s lap. She grasped at your wrist trying to pull you back into this mess of a friend group, but to no avail. 

“Now look what you’ve fucking done!” Ellie yelled at your defense as you disappeared into the bathroom.

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - - 

Now face-to-face with your tear-stained cheeks in the mirror, your head fell down between your shoulders, slowly letting the pent up emotions roll off your back. Ever since you lost August, life had become 10 times harder. As much as your younger self would’ve hated to admit it, he was your rock–your annoying brother–but still, your rock. This confession made you feel even worse though, because deep down, there was a part of you that blamed yourself for how things happened. Maybe if you would’ve stopped fighting, or told the truth to the police, or took it easier on the booze and coke that night, August would still be here. There was nothing you could do now though. This was your reality and you had to accept it. 

With that you reached into the pocket of Ellie’s varsity jacket that engulfed your figure, hoping to find a tissue to blot away your tears and smeared mascara. Instead, you were met with a small polaroid. You flipped it over to reveal a bewildering picture of Xavier and August from the last night he was seen. Their arms were swung around each other’s necks, both flashing toothy smiles at the camera and you could recall being the one to take this photo. The one thing you didn’t remember is the black sharpie captioning the bottom of the image. It read “don’t believe his lies”. Your head began to race with countless questions and zero answers. The biggest one being, what the fuck was Xavier lying about?

The wet bathroom countertop dug into the palms of your hands as you took a second to decide the best course of action, but all you could come up with was shutting the fuck up and pretending it never happened. You weren’t ready to relive last year all over again. Not yet–not ever. So you paraded back into the dining room, eyes still damp and hands still shaking. Ellie felt your energy immediately and knew it was time to go.

She glanced at you for confirmation and then turned to address the group, “I think it’s time for me and Y/N to head out. Sorry guys.” Xavier shot a look of discontent and Ellie mouthed something along the lines of “I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her I promise”, which seemed to slightly ease the tension he was previously carrying in his shoulders. She then slid out from the booth, slipped her left hand into the pocket of your denim shorts, and ushered you outside to her red convertible.

The drive back was silent but as Ellie’s hand gently stroked the flesh of your thighs and the other steered you knew there was no way she could have anything to do with that polaroid. But you had to find out who did. Just as you were nearing your house though, Ellie’s gentle touch quickly shifted to a handsier approach and it was clear she had other plans for the night. 

“Els?” is all you had to say before she quickly pulled over and jumped to the backseat, pulling you along with her. She positioned herself in the middle seat opening up her legs in a dominating stance resembling a manspread. You eagerly climbed atop her lap, placing soft kisses up her veiny neck and extending them to her defining jawline. This was just what you needed to release the tension that had racked up from tonight's events. The moon was hitting your face just right and Ellie felt so lucky to have you in that moment.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful” she murmured, slightly breathless from the overwhelming touch of your lips. You smiled against the crook of her neck and dove into the girl's mouth for a deep and passionate kiss. She returned the exchange with even more fire, graciously slipping her tongue into your entrance. With each second things got messier and your hips got looser, slowly grinding into Ellie’s denim clad thighs. She couldn’t help but chuckle just a little at your desperation, to which you buried your head back into her shoulder, encasing her in your arms for better traction. Ellie’s hands swiftly found the curves of your hips and rocked them back forth to aid you in your journey towards climax. That is until your anxiety got the best of you at the sound of rustling coming from outside the car.

“Ellie?”

“What does it not feel good?” she questioned.

“No, no– It’s just… I swear I just heard something coming from behind the car.”

“I mean… we are parked by the woods. It’s probably just some animal or the wind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes babe, I’m sure.” she assured you with a firm squeeze to your thigh and you let your worries go. This time Ellie was on top, laying you down across the seats to hover over you alluringly. Your lips found hers once again as she slipped a hand down your shorts and past your panties to meet the slick that had been piling up the whole drive. You let out a strangled moan into Ellie’s mouth as her rough digits met the throbbing bud of nerves. She took that as a sign to speed up the pace and slip in a curved finger to hit that perfect spot. You jerked in pleasure, eyes closed, almost reaching your climax from just those few movements. Ellie felt as your walls tightened around her and knew you were close.

“Look at me baby. I wanna see your eye’s when you cum all over my fingers.” she cooed. You obeyed and parted your lids open to reveal a disturbing image followed by a frightened scream escaping your puffy lips. Ellie jumped back at the clearly non-orgasmic exclamation, letting out a string of concerned “what? What??”’s. All you could do is point your shaky hand towards the message written in the condensation of the back windshield. 

“I know about last summer…” Ellie read out, voice as shaky as your extremities. Both of your fight or flight responses were triggered; you choosing flight and her of course choosing fight. The door to the cherry red car flung open and Ellie climbed over and out of her seat to trail the perimeter. You cowered down, eye’s filled with tears as Ellie recklessly yelled out to whoever wrote the message.

“Hello? Anybody out there?”, she kicked at the rocks in frustration, “Seriously who the fuck are you? This isnt fucking funny!”

“Ellie, will you please just get back in the car? They’re gone!” you pleaded. She eventually returned from her fit and came to console you. You were a mess and you were scared. 

“Hey, hey, it’s probably some prank. Let’s just take a breath, babe. In and out. Nice and slow.” she coached and you followed.

“But- what if it’s not though… what if this isn’t the first time something like this has happened…”

“Wha-what do you mean?” she asked.

You pulled out the polaroid and handed it to Ellie, “I- I found this in your jacket.”

“Y/n I swear I didn't put that there. I have no idea where it came from. Please, please believe me.”

“I do, I do. But that means someone else put it there, and they probably wrote that message too.”

Her head fell into her hands as she let out a sigh, “Fuck. We’re so fucked.”

“So what do we do?” 

“We go on that camping trip and keep our mouths shut till we know more.” 

“Seriously? What is camping gonna help? I already said I’m not going!” you yelled.

“Like hell you are! You’re insane if you think staying in the same town with the psycho freak who's borderline blackmailing us is gonna solve shit! If we’re in the woods they can’t get to us.” Ellie argued, face turning red with insistence.

“Fuck. I guess you’re kinda right. I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

“Will you sleep over tonight though? I’m scared Els. I don’t even wanna think about being alone after tonight.”

She gave you a kiss on the forehead, “Of course I’ll stay the night. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay.”

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - - 

The next morning Reid came barreling over in his beat up white van. He haphazardly whipped into the driveway of your two story home that looked straight out of suburbia. Ellie stood at the top of the concrete hill holding your pink duffle and her navy blue one on the dip of her shoulder. Xavier swung open the sliding door and the both of you climbed in as you were practically slapped in the face with the smell of old bong water and way too many Little Trees air fresheners that somehow made the smell worse.

“Fuckk Reid, you’ve gotta get rid of this kidnapper van.” Ellie remarked, holding her nose and pretending to gag a couple times.

“Fuck off Ellie, you should be thanking me for driving you bums around.”

She just rolled her eyes, “Righttt… Right…” 

The van quickly took to the road again, heading straight for the forest where it all happened just 1 year ago.

“It’s too quiet in here. Can we please put on some music?” Lottie asked about 30 minutes into the drive. 

“Yeah sure. I have a few tapes in the console right there if you wanna put one in.” Reid gestured to the compartment on the passenger side and Lottie reached in, pulling out the first tape she could find. It was in a small plastic case with no writing or cover to indicate what it was, but it sparked an intrigue, so she popped it into the car's sound system anyways. To Lottie and everyone else’s surprise, music didn’t start playing. All that came through the speakers was a muffled recording of two voices arguing. 

“Shut the fuck up August you’re just jealous!”

“You’re gonna regret this Reid.”

“Are you threatening me right now?”

“You’re the one who-”

Before the tape could finish Reid ripped it out of the player, slamming it into the dashboard and destroying the possible evidence.

“How the fuck did you get this Lottie?! Where’d you find this, seriously?” he screamed as his frantic girlfriend tried to explain.

“It was just in the console I swear!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! I’ve never seen that tape, let alone put it in my car!”

Tears welled in her eyes, “I’m not lying Reid!”

The bickering continued as you, Ellie, and Xavier sat in the back, jaws dropped in utter shock. You felt yourself shutting down at this new found information. Did Reid have something to do with August disappearing? What were they even fighting about? Suddenly breathing felt impossible and the world went silent as panic set it. You only snapped back to Earth when you heard the sound of Ellie screaming.

“FUCK REID LOOK OUT!” It was too late though and the thud of a full size deer flipping over the hood is what finally shut everyone up. 

“Oh my god…” you shuddered at the smear of thick crimson blood across the dirty windshield. It didn’t matter if it was an animal, Reid had just taken a life and you were basically an accomplice. Your heart broke and the pit of your stomach swirled with sickness thinking of the likely decapitated body splattered just behind the van. Ellie wrapped you in her arms, as if to shield you from the horror of not only the poor deer, but the realization that any one of your friends could be the reason your brother was missing. 

Xavier finally broke the jarring lull in speech, “I- I think we should take a pit stop.”

“Yeah…” Ellie agreed.

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -

A few miles down the road was a small gas station where Reid pulled over for everyone to recollect themselves. Lottie scrubbed mindlessly at the deer carnage with the murky gas station water and squeegee she found beside the gas pump. Xavier paced in the parking lot like he was off one but it was the pure anxiety and adrenaline that had him tweaking so much. Reid on the other hand was still stuck at the wheel, slouching in the driver's seat, and not making a single move since he put the van into park. Even his deep green eyes remained motionless, they seemed to be locked onto absolutely nothing, just staring into the void. Everyone was a fucking mess. The only people who seemed to be somewhat on this planet still were you and Ellie.

“I think I might gouge my eye’s out if I don’t eat some Swedish Fish and drink a Yerb as soon as possible.” you professed, walking inside the little convenience store with a ring of a bell.

“I think I need a fucking cigarette.” Ellie said in a joking tone, but candidly, these past few days had her seriously considering picking the old habit back up.

“I think everybody does. I’m tired of shit like this happening and then everyone shoving it under the rug cause we’re all still ashamed about last year. I mean, I know I am, but we have to talk about it eventually.”

“You’re right, but even if we did, what is there to say? We were all so fucked up the whole night’s just a blurry mess. Like, did you see Reid's face when that tape came on? It looked like he was hearing the conversation for the first time just like the rest of us.”

“This sucks Ellie” you groaned as you opened up the glass door to retrieve your drink. Ellie approached from behind, slithering her hands from your sides to your naval and giving you a squeeze. 

She planted a soft kiss to the top of your head, “This does suck, but I love you and we’re gonna be alright. You gonna be okay for the rest of the drive?” She flipped you around to face her and you gave an assuring nod in response. Ellie always knew just what to say to ease that panicky feeling that was constantly bubbling up in your chest. The girl then took your hand and led you to the counter where a gruff looking cashier checked you out. He slowly scanned each item at an agonizing pace; Hot fries, Swedish Fish, a Yerba Mate, Chex Mix, and a Fanta Orange. 

“Total is $13.78” he mumbled as Ellie swiped her card and you gathered up the snacks. The clerk's eyes seemed to get meaner and meaner each second you waited for your receipt– until he finally cracked. “You know you’re going to hell for what you did.” 

Ellie backed away, “Excuse me?” Had he overheard something? Did he know about August? Who the fuck was this guy?

“I don’t need any dykes shoving their sins all in my face in my own damn store!” he grunted. Oh, he’s just homophobic. Right. That was y’alls que to get back on the road and out of the middle of nowhere immediately.

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -

After an excruciatingly mute hour stuck in the “kidnapper van” you finally arrived at the forest where you’d be spending the night. The silence looked to have eased some of the tension though as conversation grew a little more lax around the campfire. 

“Yo Lottie do you have the bud? We should roll up.” Xavier suggested. You nodded fervently in agreement, a joint was exactly what you needed. Lottie seemed to have made up with Reid as she was hanging all over him not hearing a word Xavier said.

With a few calls of her name she finally looked up, “Huh?”

“The weed Lottie.” Ellie said.

“Yeah it’s in a little pouch in my tent if someone wants to grab it.” Xavier got up from his spot on a mossy log and ventured into the purple tent hitched by a tree. In just 30 seconds flat he came storming back out, face completely red and a beaded bracelet dangling from his right fist. 

“What the fuck is this Lottie!? How do you have this?” 

She pulled back from her steamy kiss with Reid to answer, “Oh my god what Xavier? You’re being sooo goddamn annoying today.”

“Could you maybe stop grinding on your boyfriend for 5 fucking seconds and look at what I found in your bag?!” he yelled back. After a closer look the small beads began to look eerily familiar. This wasn’t just any bracelet, this was August’s bracelet. The one he had on the last night he was seen, and all of the sudden Lottie’s loud mouth seemed to shut right up.

“I- I- Xavier believe me I didn’t put that there.”

His voice broke with pain and fury, “Oh really?? Then who did ‘Miss innocent’?”

“I don’t fucking know but it wasn’t me!”

“Fuck you!” he screamed, dashing off into the dark woods. Everyone tried to yell at him to come back but it was no use. He was too angry to listen to anyone but himself.

That being said, hypervigilant Reid stood up to follow, “I’m gonna go find him guys. He shouldn’t be out there alone. Not after…” His voice trailed off but everyone knew exactly what he was alluding to.

“I really didn’t put that there you know” Lottie said.

You and Ellie shared a glance, “We know.”

A puzzled look spread across her face, “what do you mean you know?”

“We think someone’s orchestrating all this,” Ellie said.

“Like blackmail?”

You nodded, “exactly like blackmail. It’s happened to me and Ellie too. Once with a lost polaroid photo and another time with a message written on her car.” You then pulled out the photo to show to Lottie.

She read it aloud, “Don’t believe his lies? Like… Xavier?” Ellie twiddled with her fingers, looking down at the dirt before saying what you and Lottie were both thinking.

“I mean, I don’t want to point fingers because this is a fucked up situation, but how have we all been framed except him?”

Lottie smoothed back the sweaty bangs stuck to her temples, “Fuckkkk. He probably had the bracelet from the start too, he seemed sooo damn eager to go dig through my shit.” 

“So, what do we do?” you asked.

Xavier suddenly appeared out of thin air, “What do we do about what?” Lottie practically jumped out of her spot.

“Fuck Xavier you scared me. Wait… Wh- where’s Reid?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he left to look for you.”

“I never saw him.”

Lottie began to scream and call for her missing boyfriend and without a second thought went straight for the forest like an idiot.

“Lottie fuck come back!” Ellie yelled out. It wasn’t long before she was running right back to you though. A blood curdling scream dampening any sounds of nature and sending a parade of chills up everyone’s backs.

“IT’S REID Y/N! IT’S REID! HE- HE- HE’S DEAD!” Lottie collapsed into your arms dry heaving from the overwhelming amount of tears, pain, and betrayal. “IT WAS YOU! IT WAS FUCKING YOU XAVIER!” You and Ellie worked to hold her back as he denied every claim.

“Lottie you’re acting fucking crazy! I didn’t do shit!”

“Even if you didn’t, you're not helping! But to me, it looks like you have guilty written all over you!” Ellie spat back.

“Fuck you guys! This isn’t fucking funny! I didn’t do it! Please, is this some kind of-” His words were cut short along with his head by the swing of a large machete right through his neck, sending a spray of fresh blood into the air and across your face. It took a solid 15 seconds before any of you could even let out a scream, but when you did, it was pure terror.  

“RUN! JUST RUN!” you yelled. Ellie grabbed your wrist in one hand and Lottie’s in the other, sprinting away with little discretion. A hooded figure trailed close behind, dirt and rocks flying into the air upon each kick of their sneakers. Air caught in your lungs with no release, all you could do was put one foot in front of the other which was a struggle in itself.

Lottie got brave though and took one single look behind her following immediate regret. A rock caught her pink converse just right, throwing her across the dirty ground and setting her feet back from the rest. And as this hooded figure caught up, the moon casting its light through the trees and across his face, it all began to make sense.

Lottie struggled backwards through the dirt with a scream, “IT’S AUGUST! IT’S FUCKING AUGUST!” Ellie halted in an attempt to pull the fallen girl back up and running but she was frozen in disbelief, in horror, in complete and utter fear. There was no choice but to leave her there and as the both of you turned to run, all you needed to hear was her earth shattering shriek to know exactly what happened.

Tears streamed down your face, “Els, Ellie I- I can’t.”

“Yes you can. Just keep running baby please.” And you did for another couple feet until fate had other plans. A hunting trap violently swept you up into a tree, encasing you in a thick net. 

“ELLIE HELP!” you screamed. She pulled and pulled at the rope creating lacerations across her palms and fingers but to no avail. 

“Do you trust me Y/n?” 

Through tears and strings of snot you shook your head, “Yes Ellie, I trust you.” Your girlfriend then took off, leaving you dangling in the air with no protection. It was just you and August now. And with a single swipe of his weapon you tumbled to the ground, twisting your ankle at the fall.

He gave a sinister smile, “hello sister.” You scrambled in the opposite direction, hands grasping at the soil below but never getting far with your limp foot. 

“August please. You don’t have to do this. It’s me! It’s Y/n!”

“STOP IT! You’re not gonna change my mind about this. I’ve waited long enough!” Your heart beats from your chest. What the fuck were you going to do to survive this?

“We’re fucking family August! I’m your sister. You’re my little brother!”

“‘Family’, ‘little brother’,” he mocked, “you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Wha- what do you mean?”

“I’m not living in your shadow anymore Y/n. I’m done being the sidekick to you and all of your stupid friends!”

“They’re your friends too!”

He began inching closer and closer, “No they fucking aren’t! Friends don’t do what you guys did to me. Lying to the police, seriously? Acting like you had no idea what happened? I disappeared and none of you even gave a fuck till the cops started asking questions!”

“That’s not true August,” you broke down into tears once more, “I missed you every fucking day!”

“Clearly not enough.” He slowly lifted his arms, gripping the bloody machete with both hands. There was no escaping at this point. You just clenched your eye’s shut and braced for the end. 

“NOOO!” The sound of a gunshot rang through your ears and instead of the feeling of cold metal slicing through you, you were met with the warm embrace of your girlfriend. You broke.

“Ellie. Oh my god Ellie.”

“I’m right here baby. Never leaving. I promise.” She just held you and held you, rocking back and forth till your breaths got less shaky.

“H-How?”

“A cabin. I found an empty cabin with a shotgun hanging right on the wall.”

“God, I love you.” Ellie smoothed back your hair and gave you a kiss.

“I love you too, angel.” 

✄ - - - -   ♡   - - - -

After that night things were never the same. It was just you and Ellie now. But together you would heal. Somehow, despite all the pain and loss, there was a glimmer of hope. Deep down you both knew things would be okay. And they were.

✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

taglist...

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