#dallon weekes imagine

[acaesic]

i drew dallon in roblox like 2 months ago. if this gets 5 notes ill give him another eye

[mikerowavedart]

everytime i listen to social climb i suddenly become a rich guy with a fancy suit in a victorian mansion planning my next evil plot as i sip my absinthe filled wine glass smirking mischievously knowing the whole world thinks im innocent

[idkbecks]

[castallurspells]

do you ever think about how people listen to iDKHOW songs, go "wow, these lyrics are kinda dark!", expecting the band's frontman to be some guy in his mid twenties filled with spite? and then they find out that, no, actually, the guy writing these bangers is a 40 year old father of two. that is filled with spite.

[girlmikeyway]

i want dallon's seafoam green vintera pbass with the red pickguard :(

[agender-and-alone]

the brobecks version of Far Too Young To Die should be in an indie romcom teen/young adult movie where the main character is a performer struggling to get their flaky love interest to watch them play, and get them out into the world. When the love interest finally does go to see the main character, they're performing a song they wrote for them. It's a whole lesson about putting yourself out there because you never know when life will end. "I never really thought that you'd come tonight but the crown hangs heavy on either side, give me one last kiss while we're far too young to die"

[thermodynamic-comedian]

i already told the discord server about this one but. if young papa nihil didn't sound like tf he'd sound like dallon weekes from idkhow.

and i stand by that.

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

I'm worried about what this is going to do to my phone storage.

[bandomchoiceawards]

*by an artist or related party (i.e. record label, producer, etc.), not a fan

[acaesic]

guys which one should i draw

[danielfuckingricciardo]

Please Don’t Jump (It’s Christmas) - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Pairing - Charles Leclerc x Reader

Word Count - 1.8k

Content Warning - Mentions of suicide, swearing

Synopsis - You send Charles a text, and Charles thinks you’re about to do something very bad and he realises he doesn’t think he could ever live without you. Meanwhile, you are off doing something else, completely unaware of Charles’ worries.

Author’s Note - This is inspired by the song Please Don’t Jump (It’s Christmas) by Dallon Weekes. It’s a really good song and I wanted to write a suitably depressing fic to go along with it but I thought, no, I won’t, I’ll write something wholesome and cute instead. So while this is kinda sad at the start, I promise you it has a happy ending. Enjoy!

“Fuck, (y/n), answer your fucking phone!” Charles grumbles into his phone, before hanging up and throwing it onto the bed in frustration.

“No answer?” Arthur says from his position resting against the door frame.

“Does it look like she answered?” Charles yells. He feels the tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he shouts at brother. He’s not angry with Arthur, not really. He’s just scared, scared you were about to do something stupid.

It was just a text. A few words on a screen, but they terrified him to his very core.

‘I’m doing it. I’m sorry Charles. I love you ♥︎.’

Those words, the words you had typed and sent before going to do god knows what. Throw yourself into traffic? Jump off of a building? Charles’ mind was racing as he couldn’t help but imagine all the horrible ways you might have… No, he couldn’t even think that word. He didn’t want to think that you would, that you could. It’s selfish, but he can’t help but think what he’d do without you. You were his best friend, his world, and though he’d never said it out loud, he loved you. Fuck, he loved you so much it hurt, and he was terrified he wouldn’t ever get to see you again. The way that you laugh at his stupid jokes, the way you smile so warmly, the way you squeeze him just a little too tight when he hugs you. He would have cherished each of these stupid things more if he knew that any time could have been the last.

“Where would she go? People tend to go somewhere they feel safe when they…” Arthur says, and Charles’ eyes go wide.

“I know. Wait here, she might come back. If she does, tell her I’m out looking for her, and then text me immediately, yes?” Charles says, and Arthur nods.

Charles grabs his discarded phone from the bed and races out of the door, skipping the elevator, it takes too much time, instead opting to sprint down the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.

If you’re anywhere, anywhere at all, it’s on the roof of your old building, the place you grew up, the place you both used to camp out under the stars when you were kids. You’d lay together on your mother’s sleeping bag, filled with marshmallows and your mum’s hot chocolate, and try and pick out all of the constellations in the sky. Charles remembered those nights so fondly. Even then, he thinks he was in love. He might not have realised it at the time, but he was. He’d loved you for as long as he could remember, and he knew he couldn’t bare to be without you.

The doorman doesn’t stop him as he makes for the elevator. Everyone in this damn country knows who he is, he could probably break into a jewellery store in the middle of the day, empty the cabinets, and they’d probably thank him for it. He thought about the stairs, but going up is a lot harder than going down, and he had been slacking on the cardio the past few days due to the festive season.

Charles bursts through the doors and up onto the roof, looking around to see it empty. You weren’t there. A sob escapes his lips as he looks around, hoping you were going to magically appear, and he could hold you, kiss you, tell you it was all going to be okay. But you didn’t appear, Charles was alone on the rooftop, and you weren’t there.

Charles’ phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and he fumbles to grab it, his hands shaking.

He is greeted by your smiling face on the screen, and he exhales a shaky chuckle. You’re still here. You’re alive.

“Fuck, (y/n), where are you? Are you okay?” Charles says, his voice barely there as a single tear drips down his cheek.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It was okay actually, not as painful as I would have expected.” You say, and Charles furrows his brows in confusion.

“A-are you calling me from the afterlife?” He whispers, his eyes wide.

“The afterlife? What the fuck are you talking about? I just got out of the piercing place.” You say, and Charles slaps himself in the forehead at his own stupidity, chuckling slightly in relief.

“The piercing place, fuck, I thought you were gonna…I…” Charles says, unable to form a coherent thought, just so happy you weren’t about to do what he thought you were going to do.

“What? I told you the other day, I wanted to go and get my tongue pierced, but you said it was a stupid idea and would almost definitely get all gross and infected.” You say. “Wait, lemme switch to video, I’ll show you. It’s not gross, I promise.”

The phone vibrates against Charles’ ear and he presses the button, and your face shows up on screen once again, this time you were sticking out your tongue, your eyebrows raised. Your expression changes as you see Charles’ flushed face, and the background that was almost definitely not his flat.

“Are you okay? Where the hell are you? That looks like the roof of my parents’ building.” You say, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“It is, I.. uh… I’m stupid, I thought that text… I thought you were gonna…” Charles attempts to say, but he can’t quite finish the sentence because he still can’t bring himself to say those words.

“You thought I was going to what? Kill myself?” You say, a confused look on your face.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I did.” Charles says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Charles, I might make a lot of jokes about it, but I would never do it. Especially not on Christmas Eve. Besides, I’m in therapy, I’ve got my pills, and I’ve got you. So I’m happy.” You say, offering him a sweet smile.

“I make you happy?” He asks.

“Of course you do. I love you.” You say, sticking out your tongue at him once again, revealing the small silver piercing in the centre of your tongue.

“But do you mean it? Because tonight I had a lot of feelings, and time to think, and I love you too. But like, I love you love you. I think I always have. I genuinely don’t know what I would do if you weren’t in my life.” Charles says, and you stop in your tracks.

“Wait there, I’m not far away.” You say, before hanging up the phone.

You pick up your pace as you walk down the streets, your heels clicking against the concrete pavements. There was no way you were saying what you wanted to say over the phone. No way.

After your brisk walk, a trip in the elevator, and the few steps up to the roof, you spot Charles sat on the edge of the roof, looking out at the city.

Your heels clicking alert him to your presence and he turns to you, spotting that your arms were full with the sleeping bag and a jug of hot chocolate.

“I called in downstairs, and she’d just made a pot. She hates the tongue piercing by the way, I don’t think anyone likes it but me.” You say, holding the sleeping bag out to Charles.

He takes it and lays it out in your usual spot, not saying a word.

“I didn’t want to say it over the phone. It felt artificial, you know. This feels better.” You say, taking a seat on the floor and pouring yourself a mug of the creamy hot chocolate.

Charles sits next to you and takes the other mug, taking a sip of the beverage which warms him up in the cold winter air. In his rush to find you, he didn’t even stop to grab a jacket, and so his arms were bare in the mild Monaco winter.

“You cold? Here, get under my scarf.” You say, wrapping your scarf around both your own and Charles’ shoulders, forcing him to pull closer to you.

“I’m sorry, If I freaked you out, or scared you with what I said. If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine too, I just-“

You cut Charles off mid-sentence as you press as soft kiss to his lips.

“Every time I say it, I mean it Charles. I love you. So much.” You say, smiling sweetly at him.

“Really? You’ve always meant it?” He questions.

“Always. Ever since we were kids and I’d sit here and make up constellations to try and impress you.” You laugh, taking another sip of your warm drink.

“You made those up?” Charles asks, and you chuckle.

“Yep, I know fuck all about astronomy. But you thought stars were cool and I wanted to impress you.” You say.

“Hmm, well you were very good at making stuff up about stars. I believed every word.” Charles says, and you rest your head gently on his shoulder.

“Ten minutes ago you believed I was going to jump off the roof.” You say, and Charles chuckles, shaking his head at his previous actions.

“Yeah, yeah, I am stupid, we don’t need to get into that one again.” He says.

“But you were willing to run around the city, arms bare, trying to find me and stop me. You have such a beautiful soul. That’s why I love you, Charles Leclerc.” You say, and Charles presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

You sit up, turning to face Charles as you press your lips to his for a real kiss. You wrap your hands, which are still warm from holding the hot chocolate, around his neck to pull him closer as he deepens the kiss. Charles wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you closer, but you’re interrupted as you wince and pull back.

“Are you okay?” Charles asks, his eyes wide with concern.

“Yeah, yeah, just no french kissing until this thing heals.” You say, sticking your tongue out to point at the silver ball.

“Noted.” Charles says, before gently pressing his lips to yours once again, only to quickly pull away.

“You okay? Does the piercing gross you out?” You ask, fiddling with the ball between your teeth.

“No, it’s not that, I actually kinda like it, actually. No, I left Arthur in my flat, he’s probably still terrified.” Charles says as he pulls out his phone to begin texting his brother.

“I have an idea.” You say, taking Charles’ phone out of his hand and opening the camera.

You snap a quick photo of you kissing Charles on the cheek, a shocked expression on his face.

You type a quick response and hit send, passing the phone back to Charles.

‘Not killing myself, got my tongue pierced. Your brother is cute, likes the taste of metal apparently.’

Charles reads the text and chuckles, shaking the head at your crude reference before wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You stay there on the roof together until it’s well past midnight. Christmas Day. Just staring at all the stars and constellations you once pretended to know to impress a boy you like. Who would have thought that, ten years later, you’d still be sat together under the stars, but this time, you both knew how much you loved one another.

[jerseymuppet]

i like to imagine that when brendon sat down to write that goodbye message ryan ross and dallon weekes materialized over his shoulders like vengeful ghosts and he started crying and writing faster

[idkbecks]

[salemruinseverything]

laying on the floor imagining dallon weekes cover of fighter by jack stauber

[allwormdiet]

Arc 3: Agitation, Concluding Thoughts

Everything happens so much

Again, WILD to me that we're already past the bank robbery with this one arc, that was so much faster than I was anticipating

I wonder how much of the breakneck pace is down to the serialized updates; the pace might have been fucked up if there were several weeks of nothing but hangouts in-between Taylor joining the Undersiders and the bank job, but as an archive reader it feels. Like there's still plenty of meat on the bone, but it's lean meat. Not much fat for flavor.

Not to say the flavor has been bad so far, really the opposite. I continue to really like the Undersiders, even when Taylor doesn't. I'm so ready for Rachel to get her chance to shine, awful un-smile and all. I'd like Alec and Taylor to get along better but I don't know if that's gonna happen, there might just be a water-and-oil thing going on. Brian is interesting for how boring and serious he's trying to be, can't wait to learn more about that. And Lisa... I think Lisa is my favorite so far. She's so smug, it's great.

Taylor continues to evolve before our very eyes, going from someone who quails at the thought of actually joining a gang of thieves to someone who takes down multiple heroes in one fight and rides off into the sunset with sheer joy and a shitload of money. She's so good at this and so naturally terrifying, it's incredible to see her work. I could read about her being a criminal forever.

The Sisters Dallon continue to make their presence known, and I suspect the rest of New Wave will show up at some point. For all that I have complicated feelings about Amy's future, for now she's still mostly just an object of pity. Can't imagine the smack to the head is making her feel any better, or how close Tattletale got to revealing that particular skeleton in the closet. Victoria is more clear-cut, thankfully; she's well-meaning but still pretty careless with her strength and aura, and the hardball she plays with villains is a lot less fun when it's targeting someone who isn't a Nazi. Ideally she starts being more careful sooner rather than later.

I remain disappointed with Armsmaster, this arc could've gone a lot more differently if he'd been even slightly less of an egotist. I continue to hope he's plagued by this for years to come.

Man what even comes next. How soon is Coil rolling up? Does Bakuda start her shit next arc or is that not for a bit? All my expectations for the pacing on this story have been utterly thrown at this point, it's weird but I'm not complaining.

[srchprty]

Sugar Pills?

Sugar Pills is honestly an absolute banger.

On the surface it's a song about drug addiction, but to me it honestly goes so much deeper. I feel like it's a larger metaphor that encompasses depression, and anxiety. I also believe that since "sugar pills" are placebo, and since Dallon talks about his "wild imagination," the song could very well be about how sometimes we create false images of people and places that aren't really true, but we do it anyways since sometimes reality is extremely grim.

I also love to joke around that the song is about diabetes and low blood sugar, since I'm diabetic. Oftentimes when us diabetics are extremely low, we'll eat wayyy more sugar than we're supposed to because we want to get rid of the feeling so fast. This is obviously not what I think the song is actually about, but it's a fun thing to pretend!

On top of this, the way Dallon rhymes numbers with words is so cool.

"Three, four, five

Just for the hell of it

Seven, eight, nine, ten

Starting to lose count again"

Honestly just lyrical genius.

Dallon Weekes never fails to amaze me.