#i didn't think they'd start production so soon

[taomubiji]

Wu Xie's Private Notes Drama Filming

A drama based on the novel Wu Xie's Private Notes (吴邪私家笔记) is rumored to have started filming.

[andy-wm]

What we know now, after they have started MS

This is a short post, because life is a lot right now and i have very little emotional energy. But this felt important, so here I am.

Tonight I revisited an older post and realised I'd never completed the thought process i began there...

When Jimin released his solo album, FACE, I wrote this analysis post.

Part of that analysis talked about my impression of JK's backing vocals on Letter.

We had seen Jimin's Production Diary, and based on the clip of JK in the recording studio I thought he didn't know he would be asked to sing backing vocals.

Here's a screen grab of that post:

After watching the docuseries, BTS Monuments: Beyond The Star, we know that was correct...

It was a surprise to him when Jimin asked him.

In fact both aspects of that prediction were right, he didn't know about the song at all.

I have two questions:

Why would Jimin have kept the song a secret from JK?

And

Why wouldn't Jimin himself ask Jungkook to sing it? Why get PDogg to ask him? Jimin was RIGHT THERE.

Actually, make that three questions.

Why did Jimin scurry away as soon as JK asked to listen to the song?

Jimin earnestly said, "I made a fan song", while holding Jungkook's face in his hands.

That's such an intimate gesture, by the way. If my Best Friend held my face that way while they told me they'd done something, I'd take it to mean that the something was significant for/about me.

Jungkook asked to listen to the song, and Jimin... vanished. He retreated to the sofa to sit out of Jungkook's line of sight.

He's suddenly shy? Shy of Jungkook's reaction?? Wierd, but ok...

Unless the song is REALLY significant to JK....

In short, yes, it is REALLY significant. We already kinda guessed that right? But now, in light of their situation, it's more significant...

So, Jungkook recorded his part of the song.

Lets think about the lyrics...

Bear in mind this was written and recorded long before they had confirmation that their application for companion enlistment was successful...

These lyrics are even more significant in that context.

Plus

This is the part of the song that's in banmal. The switch from polite to familiar signals a change in the relationship, (I wrote about that in a previous post) and since Jimin always talks to ARMY politely, we can asume this part of the the song (at least) is directed at... someone else 👀

"We dont know what the future holds, don't worry I'll stay by your side."

Now consider that Jimin has written these words for not only himself to sing. He's asking Jungkook to sing them with him.

He's asking Jungkook to sing this love song with him.

With no hesitation, Jungkook says yes. He does the recording there and then.

And when JK is finished recording...

He tells Jimin that the song is really nice. Immediately, Jimin is a limpet. He's all over Junkgook like he's made of Velcro. A stark contrast to his earier behaviour when his vulnerability made him scurry away.

Jimin jokes that Junkgook should record a message for ARMY and Pdogg calls him out on that lie. Of course JK refuses. "It's your song." he tells Jimin.

Jimin is pushing his luck here, first asking JK to record a message, and then asking him to claim ownership (or share responsibility) for the song.

Jk has no trouble saying no to that.

It seems like more than a meaningless joke to me. One of those suggestions alone might be, but both? It left me wondering if Jimin suddenly felt scared that he was revealing too much with the song?

I'm kinda impressed that JK, for all his love and support, wasn't prepared to rescue Jimin from his choices. He simply, but gently, said no. It tells me a lot about their relationship.

It also tells me a lot about both JK's honestly and his belief in Jimin.

eta, I was tired and once my thought bubble popped i just hit 'post' and fell asleep. But it's exactly a year since Jimin released FACE and i think it's a pretty cool coincidence that i came back to this randomly on this day.

Happy FACE day, ARMYs. 💛💜

[panie-wanie-dean-bean]

Imagine just having a normal conversation with the brothers when the topic of death comes up in one form or another. Maybe it's a joke someone told that you laughed a little too hard at, maybe there was a threat passed around for laughs and you flinched. Either way, the brothers are all suddenly very aware of your mortality

While some brothers try to steer away from the topic, or brag about how they'd never let you die on them, three have almost the same thought "I won't let that happen"

The three in question are Belphie, Satan, and Lucifer. The two are hesitant to bring him in on their plotting but with his connections they really can't refuse. This is for you after all

Lucifer insists on getting permission from Diavolo first. The other two think it's not worth the risk but Luci knows better. Dia is delighted at the thought and gives his whole hearted approval of the plan, even Barbados looks a little giddy

After that, they turn to Solomon, a fellow human who somehow achieved immortality, to ask for advice. Sol is also thrilled at the idea, he even has everything ready to go for such an occasion. Why would he have them at the ready? He would advise you not to worry about that

Soon after all this, Solomon asks you to join him for tea. It's an innocuous request, it needed to be, though you couldn't have known that. You accept, and it eventually becomes a daily occurrence. It allows you a break from the madness, and him some good company. At least, that's what he tells you. You found it a bit strange how the brothers always let you have your tea in peace. Mammon didn't even barge in to demand your attention once! But he told you that he thought some fellow human time would do you good

It's not really a noticeable change at first, with how many selfcare days and products Assy gives you/makes you use it's not too surprising when your age doesn't show on your skin. Then you hit 40. You really should start looking older now, right? You mean, Devildom skincare aside, at least your hair should start graying, right? Your joints feel the same as ever, you heal just as fast. You can write it off a little longer but in your mid fifties you should not fucking look like you're still twenty!

Everyone acts so surprised too. Never giving away the truth. Just telling you that it must have been something you accidentally ate, or one of your high jinks filled days in the Devildom that did this to you. You're a little upset none of your friends or lovers seem to care about this as much as you do, but, maybe this is for the best? You've known for a while now that, at the very least, the brothers would be lost without you

Maybe this is a good thing, maybe it's as good as Assy whispers to you as he goes down on you whenever you mention it. Maybe it's as good as Beel tells you as he feeds you some of the best food in the Devildom. Maybe it's as good as Levi tells you as he rattles on about how many new shows you'll get to see together

Maybe it doesn't matter that the ones you trust the most took away your humanity

[redlegumes]

Dec 3rd: Stolen Pine

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles

prompt: Mutual Pining | AO3: link | wc: 946 | rating: G | cw: none | tags: idiots in love, 'pine' ing, Christmas tree without glasses, light theft

Summary: Spontaneous tree theft and decorating, paired with some pining.

⍋↟⍋♡⍋↟⍋

They'd hauled in the tree. Eddie kept talking about how the evergreen part was the important bit and continued to explain Christmas's stolen nuances from paganism. Steve nodded and did his best to follow along. That was what he did lately, follow Eddie. Whether it started with a need to assure himself the guy was okay after their Upside Down torments, or if he'd honestly found Eddie intriguing from the get go, Steve couldn't say. 

It didn't really matter anyway. He was positive that his feelings weren't going away as he nodded along with Eddie's excited ramblings. He hadn't even hesitated to join Eddie that night without product in his hair, glasses on.

…

Steve's vision had started to degrade. He'd noticed after his first run in with a Demogorgon. Pretty soon he legally needed corrective lenses to drive. Vanity prevented him from letting anyone other than Robin know. She'd assured him, ‘a boy is allowed to have his secrets. Just not from his platonic soulmate.’ Kinda the same reasoning behind why she knew how utterly hopeless he'd become around Eddie. The type of lovesick that had him helping Eddie with his non-christ related, Christmas tree caper.

continues after the cut

Eddie already knew about Steve's vision after helping Steve through an awful migraine where he just couldn't stand to have the contacts in. Steve'd been so nervous but Eddie just teased him about commiting to an ’Indiana Jones’ look and they kinda just moved on.

Steve hadn't expected Eddie at all that night when he knocked on his door. He'd come late to ask for help stealing a tree off some wooded, government owned property. He took one look at Eddie's ridiculous smile and dancing deep eyes and threw on a parka to help.

…

Now they were attempting to get the damn thing in a stand in the white-walled, impersonal living room of the house the ‘’Department of Energy’ had provided Wayne Munson with. They managed with no small amount of grunting and sappy fingers. More than once Steve reminded himself not to stare too hard at Eddie through the pine branches. He even liked Eddie's frustrated faces, the downward curve of his lips, the wrinkling of his forehead. Jesus, I'm pathetic. 

When they finished he and Eddie stood back admiring their fresh cut theft.

“Wayne's at work for another two hours. Think we can get it done ourselves before he's back?”

“Do you have decorations?”

Eddie sheepishly twisted where he stood. “I picked up some lights, and yeah, there's a box of ornaments.”

Steve stilled, bowled over by the waves of ‘adorable’ pouring off of Eddie. “Uh yeah, I think we can manage.”

—

The box was one of the few items in a very small storage room Al Munson's name was on outside of town. Eddie had been contacted once as ‘next of kin' to make payments on the thing, and that's when he went to see it himself. Inside were his dad's ‘tools of the trade,’’ some suspicious looking luggage and duffels he recognized from a hair brained scheme or two. What a lame cache, he'd thought at the time. That was before he reached the cardboard boxes in the back. They were his mother's. Winter decorations and clothes that were never brought back out when the seasons changed after her death. 

It was one of those boxes he'd picked up and brought to the new place, dragging it out now for Steve. Steve stopped unraveling lights to examine the ornaments. “These look like heirlooms,” he said, carefully picking up a blue, blown glass sphere and turning it in his strong hands. 

Eddie loved the care and attention Steve directed at the one piece. The way a tendril of hair fell over his forehead; the consideration on his face. Steve was already in his ‘Clark Kent look’ when Eddie'd shown up to his place that night. Which made sense, it was late, but Eddie loved the glasses on Steve. He liked the superman analogy too. Steve was basically Eddie's superman anyway.

“They were my mother's,” Eddie said, touching the edge of a carved angel's wing inside.

Steve's mouth made a small ‘o’ shape and he carefully set the ornament back into the nestled layers of tissue paper. “They're beautiful Eds.”

They decorated together, and it was easy. Eddie was warmed just being near Steve but they seemed to naturally work well together, joking and spacing the lights and decorations just right. Steve got Eddie's radio out and they listened to crackly Christmas tunes as they went along.

They finished about thirty minutes or so before Wayne's anticipated return. The men stood back to admire their handy work. Steve took his glasses off.

“Prettier that way,” Eddie asked, breathier than he wanted to sound.

Steve chuckled. “Good both ways, but yeah. One of the only perks I guess? The lights all expand and blend a bit.”

Eddie stared at Steve taking in the tree. If the lights were as fuzzy as he'd said, Steve wouldn't notice Eddie's stare. Truth be told, Eddie always wanted to stare at Steve. The lights reflected in Steve's light brown eyes… Christ, he is so pretty. Eddie's fingers itched to twine themselves with Steve's. He was dying with every little kindness Steve showed him; dying to bite the bullet and confess. He wanted to know if his crush was one sided, but if things took a different turn... Telling Steve could ruin what they had, and then who would help him steal a Christmas tree at two am?

He could live with this for now, watching Steve lit by the glow of Christmas lights they hung together. 

“Thanks Stevie.”

“Anytime Eds.”

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

[fefe658]

Hang in there! [ 1 ]

Decided to start a new story! This story will contain the 'tinies as pets' trope, don't like don't read. Though I suggest you at least give it a try, it gets better for our poor kitty.

Next

Cw: pet trope, mentions of death

Felix rested on his tiny bed made of scraps of fabric, enjoying what little peace he had before the store opened.

It's been two weeks since he was brought back here- or was it three? Time tends to blend together while you're sitting on a shelf all day. You just try not to think about it and wait for the shop to close for the night.

His last home was... normal. Nothing remarkable about it, but nothing great either. He was given as a gift to a young girl for her birthday. He hated kids, they'd always try to get their dirty, grubby little hands on him. Lifting him up, ruffling his hair, pulling on his tail.

On his third day, Felix couldn't take it anymore and decided to snap back. When the girl tried to reach for him, he scratched her hand. She immediately started crying and called out to her dad, who promptly slammed him back in his cage and brought him to the girl's mother. While the dad angrily screamed about how much of a waste of time and money Felix was, he simply looked down and tried to tune out the screaming, covering his sensitive ears.

The parents both decided to return him to the pet store.

He didn't know how to feel about it, he's been returned so many times that he should be used to it by now. Yet, every time he gets put back in his box on the store shelf, he feels...

Wrong. Bad. An ungrateful brat. Hopeless. A waste of time. Don't you know how lucky you are? How many like you live on the streets, wishing to have a home? Nobody wants a kitty that doesn't like being touched. Nobody will want to love you. You should just be put down.

Felix's ears twitched as he heard the bell chimes coming from the front door, meaning that Sandra was about to open the store.

Sandra was good, as good as a human working in a pet store could be anyway. She respected his personal space when she could, she listened to his needs, and she always looked heartbroken whenever he was returned.

Felix shielded his eyes as light streamed in from the windows, clearly annoyed by the sudden brightness. He turned around and buried himself in his makeshift blanket, not yet ready to face the day.

Soon, Felix heard the sound of fingers gently tapping against the front of his plastic enclosure, followed by a sigh and the sound of his water and food bowls getting refilled. He was grateful that he lived inside one of the more high end pet stores, which could afford to feed its pets clean water and pieces of fruit, instead of the usual hard, brown pieces of what could be barely classified as food.

After he heard the box close, he slowly got up from his bed. No point in delaying the inevitable, he knows that Sandra wants to talk to him every time he's sent back to the store.

Holding the oversized bell strapped to his neck as to not make any sound, he made his way over to his food, eating it as he looked outward towards the rest of the store. His box was placed on a higher shelf, so he had a good view of the various aisles. It was a pretty small store, so there wasn't much to see, really. There were some posters and advertisements on the opposite wall: One of them was listing some offers on animal centric products, another was promoting the adoption of pets, showing a happy kid holding an equally happy looking tiny with bright orange fur, a pair of tufty ears and a fluffy tail.

Felix let out a sigh. He knew that some pets just wanted to be adopted, he knew they would find a home and a family who loved them. He also knew that just wasn't gonna happen to him. The sheer amount of times he'd been rejected was enough proof of that.

But that poster wasn't what bothered him. No. The picture on the wall that he hated with every fiber of his being was the one right in front of his shelf. Perfectly framed by the edges of his prison, was a small image of a tiny holding onto a piece of string, with the words 'Hang in there' written above it.

Eventually, Felix heard footsteps approaching the shelf, so he knew his time was up. Sandra's face appeared in front of his box, a bit too low to be at eye level. She was pretty short for a human, though still a dozen times taller than him. The slight elevation always gave him a sense of reassurance, he hates having to look up to speak to a human.

Felix didn't know what was worse. That the tiny in the picture resembled him so much, short lavander-gray hair with matching ears and tail; or the phrasing above it. 'Hang in there', a phrase so innocent, yet such a mockery of his situation. It kept reminding him that whatever happens, no matter what he did, how many times he was returned, how many times he cried and screamed and begged, He was doomed to stay here.

He stopped trying about two years ago, after he finally understood that he wasn't worth the time. When he gave up on trying to please others just to be loved. He won't even touch the toys I bought for him, he's nothing but a waste of money.

"So... how was it?"

Felix put his food down, taking a deep breath before opening his mouth, "Really? Is this what you settled for?"

Sandra sighed, "Felix, I know you don't like to talk, I just wanna make sure you're alright."

The quicker you tell her what she wants, the sooner she'll leave. "It was a kid, really young. She kept touching me so I scratched her."

Sandra's calm smile faltered "Felix, I know-"

"You should've seen the dad, he looked just about ready to fling me off the table when she started crying."

"Felix-"

"And then he brought me to the kid's mom, and she said I should've been put down, and then-"

"Felix."

Felix stopped talking and turned towards Sandra. She was looking at him, her expression seemed angry, but her teary eyes said otherwise. "You know I don't like it when you talk like this."

"I'm just telling you what happened, you're the one who asked for it."

Sandra pinched her nose with a sigh. Good, now leave me be. We both have better things to do.

"I'm sure you noticed that while you were away, Oliver got adopted."

Oliver, right. The other tiny that lived in the box with him. Felix noticed he wasn't in the box last night, but he knew he'd get to know why the next morning.

Oliver was young, with large eyes, a stubby tail and bright orange fur. He was sweet, cuddly and joyful, everything a happy family would want to adopt. Felix was just waiting for him to be taken so he could be alone in the box again.

"Good for him, now I'll finally be able to sleep without hearing him snore. Can I be alone now? You're gonna attract the first customers of the day here and I do not want eyes on me first thing in the morning."

Sandra gave Felix a desperate look, "Come on, at least try to open up. I'm sure you'll eventually find someone you'll enjoy being with."

Felix just ignored her and turned back, wrapping himself in his makeshift bed. Sandra decided not to press him further and just left, ready to open the store for the day.

Felix was left alone with his thoughts, staying under the covers as to not draw any attenion to himself. That's how he spent most of his days, avoiding unwanted aknowledgement from customers. The last thing he wanted was humans seeing him and try to talk to him, much less touch him.

Sandra's words burned in his head like a forest fire. Try to open up, you'll find someone who will love you. She repeats that every time someone returns him, as if saying it the fiftieth time will finally make it happen. He hated being bought, he hated being returned. He hated being owned, being played with, being touched and prodded and thrown around. He hated being treated like a child, like he can't decide for himself, he hated Sandra, and everyone who bought him, and he knew that they all hated him. He hated this place, he'd rather just stay under these covers forever and die alone than being someone's plaything again-

There was a gentle knock on the front of his box.

Fuming, he tried to ignore it. He's not in the mood to talk with Sandra. He knows he'd say something he might regret.

Another knock, slightly stronger this time.

That's it. Felix threw the covers off himself and towards the front of the box. She had it coming. Felix stood up, moving towards the clear plastic wall that separated him from the human on the other side.

"Can't you leave me alone for one second?! Why is it that out of all the other tinies in this forsaken store you just have to come and annoy me?! The fact that you 'care for people like me' doesn't give you the right to-"

Felix stopped in his tracks. The human in front of him was, in fact, not Sandra. His brain short circuted, unsure of what to do. His mind screamed at him to hide back under the covers, but said covers were right in front of the human. To get them, he'd have to get closer to the front of his cage and, by extent, closer to the human.

Felix was frozen in place, feeling the unwanted gaze of the giant in front of him. He wanted to run, to hide, curl up and disappear. He gazed into those large blue eyes waiting for that door to open and for fingers to start grabbing him, because customers never read the lable saying to not touch the pets-

But then, the human left.

Felix's knees suddenly felt like jelly, and he fell to the ground with a distressed sigh. He carefully made his way over to the front and grabbed his blanket, when something caught his eye.

The human was at the counter, talking to Sandra. And Sandra was looking at him.

Oh, no. No no nonono. Not now, not so soon. I just came back-

Felix heard the door to his enclosure open. "Felix here has been with us for some time, he was brought here when he was a young kid."

Felix watched as Sandra started walking towards the shelf. His shelf.

Felix hurried quickly towards the darkest corner of his enclosure, burying himself in his own bed. Closing his eyes, he braced himself for what was about to happen.

There was a moment of silence, and Felix knew exactly what was expected of him. Like hell I'm going out there.

"Today he's a little grumpier than usual, you see. He was adopted last week but didn't realy fit in, so..."

Yes, I'm a lost cause. Don't bother with me and just take someone else, I'm sure there's plenty better choices.

"He really likes his personal space, he tends to get a bit overwhelmed by too much noise."

You're really outing me right away, huh? Felix didn't know if he should be mad or grateful for that.

"He's a bit of a handful... Are you sure you want him?"

No.

"Yes."

Fuck.

That voice sounded so calm, so sweet. Felix wanted to throw up.

"Felix, please come out."

Felix immediately felt the box being removed from the shelf, in a procedure that he's already been subjected to dozens of times over.

Sandra brought him to the back room, gently laying down the plastic enclosure on a table. After what felt like hours of silence, she finally spoke up.

Silence.

"Felix, you know you can't stay there. I don't wanna force you to come out."

No answer.

"Felix, how many times do we have to do this?"

Felix sighed. He knew making a fuss wouldn't delay the inevitable. He also knew that he was being childish, but he didn't care. "I don't know, how many times do we have to do this?"

Felix got up, straining his neck to look into Sandra's eyes. "Do you think I enjoy this? Do you think I like jumping between homes, having to deal with everything that happens to me? Do you think I like the idea of having an owner?"

"Felix, you know how I feel about this. These are the cards you've been dealt, you should try and make the best of what's been given to you."

"Why do you want me to get adopted so bad? Can't you just let me be?"

"Felix, you know what happens when a pet spends too much time here without being adopted. You've been in the shop for six years, I don't want you to-"

"Well, maybe I do deserve to go to the pound. Maybe they'll finally put me down, then I won't be such a nuisance anymore!"

Warm tears pricked Felix's eyes, his throat was sore and his lungs were burning. He refused to look at Sandra's eyes, afraid to see the guilt? Pity? Disappointment?

He didn't say a word as he was washed, dried and brushed. He was soon set into a cage with a matted floor.

I've done it countless times, I can do it again. I just hope it'll be quick this time.

The cage was brought out of the back room and deposited on the front counter, along with some paperwork. His paperwork.

Sandra's voice spoke from above. "Is this everything? Or do you need anything else?"

The other human was silent for a moment, before bending down to be at eye level with Felix. "Do you need anything else?"

Oh, great. so you're one of those.

Felix scrambled towards the back of the cage when those giant blue eyes fell on him, shaking his head. The human shrugged, once again moving out of Felix's line of view.

"No thank you, I'll just take him and this toy."

"Perfect! Now you just need to sign the adoption papers, Mr..."

"Luke. Call me Luke."

Luke. Felix didn't bother memorising it. It's not like he'll need it anyway.

Felix heard the sound of paper being shuffled around. This was his least favourite part of the adoption process: The deafening silence, the suspance, the fact that those documents meant that this human owned Felix, without asking any opinion from his part.

Felix's thoughts were interrupted as the cage was lifted up, and he was brought to the soft ground with a quiet 'oof'. Sandra gave her best smile as she bid farewell to felix, but he didn't bother to turn around to look at her. I'll be back in a week, so why even bother.

The cage was set onto the front seat of the human's car and secured with a seatbelt. The human sat in the driver's seat, and immediately turned to face Felix with a smile.

"So, what's your name, little guy?"

You already know it.

"Not a talker, eh? Me neither."

Then stop talking.

"My name is Luke."

I'm not stupid, I heard you the first time.

The human gave Felix a weird look, turning the car on and messing with the radio knob. "Do you like music?"

Please don't choose pop

The radio eventually settled onto some smooth jazz, and the car started moving. Felix tried to tune out the noise, wanting to get as much sleep as he could.

I just hope he doesn't have kids.

-----------------------------------------------------

Phew! That was the longest chapter I've written as of now.

I really enjoyed writing this story, and I have a lot of ideas for its future. I know the pet trope is a bit of a risque subject in the G/t community, but then I remembered that morality is relative.

I want this story to be a bit more serialised, less centered on romance and more on the characters and setting. That being said, I thank everyone for reading, I encourage you to send me asks and suggestions, to like / reblog (which would really help out), and to check out my other stories.

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 10 - Paranoia

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that."

~*~

Mystic

Tikki works on her own omelet in comfortable silence, letting her guest relax by the fire while she filled her own egg patty with her additions of choice. Once her folded egg taco was on the plate, she drizzled some kind of red liquid over top of it, and took up those metal tools he could never quite understand the purpose of. Lifting her plate, she goes to sit at the couch, and- uses the tiny knife and spoked thing to poke and cut her omelet, eating it off the utensils.

Oh. That’s what they were for. She didn’t need to get food on her hands at all.

…

“Have you been on the streets your whole life?” Tikki asks, quiet.

Spooky

He looks up from watching her cut the omelet and poke it with the pronged thing, before frowning a little and shaking his head no.

No, being on the streets was a relatively new thing for him. In a way, he had kind of lucked out that adaptability was part of his training, otherwise he may not've survived very long, but... This probably wasn't what they had in mind while training him. It was more for use in battle.

He glances down at the floor in front of him, wishing he still had the snow and stick to help him explain things. The best thing he could do for now, though, was try and sum up everything he could into one word, and force it out of his uncooperative throat.

"L.. ll- laa... b," he rasps, looking back at her.

Mystic

Tikki, who had been mid-bite of her own omelet, chokes on the piece of food. She has to pound on her chest for a second before the food is dislodged, and she can breathe again.

In just one word, that was- quite a bit of information to swallow. Just like her omelet.

"I'm- hkf- sorry," Tikki apologizes, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "You- wh- but- how-? You came from a lab? Excuse me? As in- wait-"

She frowns, staring into space. He can see it in her eyes- she was putting together a lot of puzzle pieces. She sets aside the plate, losing her appetite in this moment.

"...that- suddenly a lot of things make sense. But- why were you in a lab?"

Spooky

He looked alarmed when she choked on her food, but once she'd dealt with that enough to ask him more questions, he ducked his head slightly and slid his hand over the nape of his neck. He gave a small shrug, mainly because he didn't know how he'd got there. He couldn't really remember being anywhere else, leading him to think that maybe he was born there…? Though there were some things he could just barely recall that seemed to contradict that.

He knew what trees were, before he’d even escaped. They'd never let him outside, not once, but he could picture outside, sometimes in dreams... And there were other things, too. Faded voices and shapes, and strong emotions attached that left him feeling lost, scared, and like he'd been hollowed out whenever he thought about it too hard.

So usually, he didn't.

All he had for an answer as to why he was there was what they were developing him for.

"...w... wepn," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the burning fireplace.

Mystic

...There's a long pause.

Even though he wasn't facing her, he could feel her eyes boring into him. Analyzing.

Behind his back, the scales on the back of Tikki's arm start to stand on end. She clasps at her forearms with her hands, clenching her jaw as she wills the beast back into the depths, forcing the scales back down.

The thought, and all the implications it carried, made her so, so angry. But she just got back to normal from a shift- if she let it happen again so soon, it would exhaust her. She'd be so depleted of energy that she wouldn't want to move for a week, and she wasn't in a position to let that happen anymore.

"...Okay," she says, finally. A brief, forceful exhale as she quells her outrage for his sake. "I see why you ran away, now."

Tikki puts her chin in one hand, thinking. Then her eyes flick to the door. Then back to him in worry.

"...Am I gonna get in trouble with the law or something if someone finds out you're in my house? Are YOU in trouble with whoever you ran from?"

Not that she was particularly bothered by the idea of someone reprehensible showing up at the door. She'd welcome the opportunity to feed someone a knuckle sandwich and have it be sweet justice. But not at the cost of somebody else being put in danger.

Spooky

Feeling her staring, he glanced back at her, worried he'd made her angry at him. He could sense the tension, and his eyes turned downwards as he fidgeted with his hands.

Her questions didn't assuage his nerves any, either... because he had, if only for a brief time due to the distractions and curious things in this house, forgotten he was being hunted.

He was hesitant to answer, worried that confirming this fact would get him thrown out. Tikki was nice, but to get involved in anything like this seemed like too much to ask of anyone.

He didn't know what this 'law' was, but he knew the Aria Corporation was big, and they had a lot of resources. Hell, their damn logo still haunted him whenever he sneaked into town, never truly letting him forget that he wasn't safe.

...It wasn't fair not to tell her, though. To not at least try and warn her about what she was getting into if she let him stay in her home.

Looking conflicted, he finally nodded. Setting aside his disc, he reached down and tried to trace a shape on the rug with his finger, but it wasn't very clear.

Mystic

A long, sad sigh.

"...ok. I figured."

Tikki glances at the rug, leaning to see what he was drawing- but she couldn't make anything out from here. Hm. Maybe he was just doodling from the stress. She did sorta put him on the spot, all of the sudden.

"...well, I'm not going to just let you freeze to death in the snow," she says, frowning. "And whoever uses a kid test subject for scientific experiments is super fucked up, I'll tell you that."

Standing up from the couch, she moves to sit on the rug next to him, scooting a bit closer so she's near enough for expression of comfort, but just at the edge of his personal space. She looks down at the carpet as she talks, idly trying to decipher his finger-drawing on the floor.

"I don't have much to offer, Sticks. I do have a roof, and food, sometimes. I don't make a lot of money, and I'm dealing with my own demons- but I'd still like to help you, somehow. If you want it?"

Spooky

He doesn't seem able to get the tracing of his finger across, so he stops. The best that could be deciphered from it was that he seemed to be writing an 'A' for part of it. If he was trying to make a word, though, the rest of the scrawl was incomprehensible. There didn't seem to be any other letters, and even the A was kind of questionable.

He looked unsure at her offer, not because he was keen on turning his figurative nose up at it though. Moreso, he was worried. She already had stress from turning into the silver beast, and didn't have much money, and... he didn't know what 'demons' were, but that didn't sound good either.

...

But at the same time, he didn't wanna go back to taking his chances in that hole in the ground. Not after he knew what being in a warm house on a soft rug, with not one but TWO blankets was like.

His eyes searched her expression. She really did seem to want to help...

He hugged his pillow close and gave a little nod, before resting his chin on it.

Mystic

He feels more than sees her hand clasp onto his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before letting go.

"Okay," she says, offering him a little smile. "I'll do what I can."

Tikki leans back to the couch again, and takes her plate with the half-eaten omelet. She sets it on the carpet and slides it over to him, letting it rest by his knee.

"Here- you can have the rest of mine. I wasn't very hungry, anyway."

A lie. Shifting consumed a lot of calories she had to replenish, which she had every intention of doing so later when he was asleep or something. But right now, she lost her appetite. At least this way the food wouldn't go to waste.

Tikki stands up, stretching her shoulders and wiggling her webbed toes.

"I don't know a lot about you, and that's fine- you don't have to share what you don't want to." Tikki scratches behind her head, starting back towards the kitchen to start cleaning. "Just let me know how I can best help you, alright?"

Spooky

He looked from the offered omelet half to her, before he picked it up with his hand and stuffed it in his mouth, licking the remaining red sauce off his fingers. This had a different taste than his, but was still good!

He didn't seem as keen to get up, covered in fluffy blankets as he was. While he wasn't full, his stomach was no longer empty, and going from being outside in the snow with almost no clothes for most of the day to taking a hot bath and sitting all bundled up next to a roaring fireplace... Sleepiness was definitely setting in, and his eyelids drooped.

He nodded in response to her, rubbing at one of his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Th... thanks," he said, straining to try and be louder since she had walked back to the kitchen. Oof, probably wasn't the best idea. Fuck, he wished he could figure out how to fix his broken voice. It'd been a long time since he'd heard what it sounds like normally, but he knew it wasn't supposed to sound like this.

Mystic

Tikki glances back in his direction at the sound of the voice crack. Ouch. That sounded very unpleasant. Did speaking cause him pain? Maybe his throat was damaged from... whatever happened to him in the 'lab'.

She tried not to think about it. He wasn't there, now.

"It's no trouble," she says, offering another smile as she removes the pan to wash it. "Nobody should have to live on the street- especially not kids."

In the background, Tikki quietly goes about making some hot apple cider. It was just a cheap packet mix, but it was easy, and fast. The water boils gently on the stove while she cleans up the containers of omelet fillings, and puts away all the washed dishes once she'd dried them with a kitchen towel.

She is left to ponder in silence for a while. He'd never seen silverware, didn't know how to feed or take care of himself. Laboratories that tested on humans- at least, he might be human, she really wasn't sure- evidently still existed, and were doing shady shit like turning children into weapons. That was the most she could ascertain from his broken speech and limited information. Whoever was responsible, they were probably out looking for this kid. And if she was caught with him in custody, if she was lucky, she'd be left alone- but he would no doubt be taken back to whatever hell he endured.

She had seen the rocky injuries all over his back. She couldn't begin to comprehend what would cause that. It looked a little better after he was able to bathe, but there was still a substantial amount of rock crust covering his spine. She was hesitant to touch it, or ask about it in case it was sensitive.

Steam hisses from the kettle, and she turns off the stove burner. Water is poured into mugs, and Tikki shakes out the cider mix into the mugs, pouring honey into both. Stirring them with spoons, she walks back out into the living room to check on him.

"I've got hot cider, for your throat," she says, rounding the couch.

Spooky

He looked like he'd gone into almost a kind of sleepy trance, watching the flames dance on the logs...

But he perked back up a little when Tikki returned with- Oh! He'd seen these before, sometimes he would see people at the lab walking or standing around with these little handled cylinders in their hands, usually in the hallways when he was being transported to another area. He never knew what was in them, but they had a nice smell...

These smelled good too, but in a different way. When Tikki handed one over to him, he took it and held it in both hands, peering down at the unfamiliar drink. Unsure how to proceed, he dipped his tongue into it to give it a taste.

Mystic

The immediate taste was sweet, with a hint of spice that wasn't quite the same as the red thing he ate earlier. What did Tikki call it? 'Pepper'? This was different. It was hot, though, and the little bit he managed to swallow off his own tongue actually soothed his aching throat a little, more than water had up until this point.

Tikki, seeing this, chuckles into her own mug that she had just lifted to her face.

"Okay, that was pretty cute," she says, snickering. "And you have a lava tongue?? Weird, and cool. But yeah- you drink it like this."

Tikki demonstrates, holding the mug in her hands up to her chin and tipping it back a little, taking a gulp of the liquid inside before tipping it back down, swallowing with a satisfied exhale.

"It has honey in it, which is a natural remedy for throat problems," she explains, sipping more of her own drink before continuing. "I've had to use it before when shifting damaged my voice for a day or two. Should help, I think. And if it gets too cold, you can always reheat it."

Spooky

He flushed with a faint glow at her comments, but did his best to mimic the demonstration, slowly tipping and attempting a sip with a noisy slurp.

...Holy shit! A way to drink without getting it all over himself! He looked down at the mug with big eyes full of wonder. This was awesome!

He was quick to drink the rest of it down, steam spilling from his mouth when he lowered the mug and exhaled afterwards. The honey coated his throat, making it feel less sore after his attempts to talk. His glowing tongue poked out again, licking his lips.

Mystic

Another chuckle from Tikki.

"I mean this in the best way- you're like a big puppy," she jokes, watching the steam puff up towards her ceiling. "A lanky, fire-breathing puppy."

Sipping her cider, she sighs, getting up from the carpet one last time.

"You look ready to pass out, so I'm going to let you rest. You can use the couch, or stay on the carpet, whatever you feel like- sleep well, Sticks."

And with that, she walks off to the rest of her house, presumably to wind down for the rest of her afternoon. It wasn't far past midday, but she'd had an exhausting morning, and she figured he did as well.

Spooky

His expression briefly turned to confusion as he tried to figure out what a puppy was, but he shrugged it off, setting down the now empty mug. He was very sleepy, and probably would've been content to just sleep next to the fireplace, though without anything to prop him up he kept slowly listing to the side until he'd jerk back upright with a start.

He let out a tired grumble and crawled like a blankety slug across the floor until he was at the couch, where he leaned back against the side of it. It was definitely softer than the dirt had been, and the blankets added extra cushioning. Hugging the pillow close, he curled up and rested his head on it, so cozy that he drifted off in no time.

...

"You really thought you could just leave... Didn't you?"

His eyes shot open at the familiar cold voice of the ponytailed man, Dr. Rainer... but he didn't see him anywhere when he looked around the living room. It was nighttime now and the fireplace had gone out, bathing the room in darkness, and any warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house along with it.

Then, a red dot appeared in the window. Followed by another, then another, and they continued to multiply until they were peering in through every window, swarming, a buzzing sound reverberating off the walls and leaving him rattled. Drones.

With a smash of glass they set upon him, giving him barely even any time to stand before they were already on him, a writhing mass of buzzing motors and claw arms, reaching and scratching and grabbing. He managed to fight back, blasting them with fire and setting his fists crunching into metal when they got too close, but there were always more to take their place.

"No matter where you scurry off to, you can never truly abandon your purpose. You know that, don't you?"

Metal parts crunched underfoot as he continued to doggedly fight against a neverending onslaught, pouring in through the windows like wasps from a nest.

Suddenly, another piercing pain lanced through the back of his neck, near the base of his skull, his vision blurring and going white for a few moments as he was brought to his hands and knees.

When he opened his eyes again, the drones were gone, and the room was quiet... But as he remained there, trying to catch his breath, he realized something very quickly. He couldn't move.

"Stand."

To his dawning horror, he stood up. Without trying to. His body was moving without his input. His eyes wouldn't even budge when he tried to look around.

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that. Now... Destroy."

NO!

It was too late. Fire sparked and climbed up his limbs, engulfing his body in flames that started to catch on the floor around him. He raised his arms and sent blasts of fireballs careening around him, smashing walls and furniture, anything not annihilated on impact would perish in the blaze... The walls buckled in the inferno. Chunks of ceiling fell. This house was done for, and everyone in it, including Tikki.

And as he distantly heard her screams, he felt...

nothing.

-!!!

Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes opened for real this time and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, prompting a coughing fit. Smoke spiraling out of his mouth, he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings.

Mystic

The house is quiet. Besides his panting breaths and his heart trying to decide if it wanted to break his ribcage and escape, there was no sound beyond the distant hum of the heater in the walls. The fire- which appeared to have had an extra log placed on it at some point- had burned low until all that was left were charred husks, and a pile of glowing embers. It produced only a faint pop and hiss, along with the lightest aura of remaining warmth.

The house is dark. Just like in his nightmare- but there's no voice to taunt him in the shadows. The windows, which had been an open view out into the world, were covered by thick drawn curtains. Nothing could see inside, not even the searching cameras of the drones he knew were looking for him out in the city. No light is leaking past the borders of those curtains, either. He'd passed out somewhere around noon. Had he slept so long that it was nighttime?

The house is empty. Tikki is nowhere to be seen. A door at the far end of the corridor across the living room is shut. Perhaps she was there, or perhaps she left.

A hand flies quickly to the back of his neck-

-and he feels nothing. No robotic devices, no grasping claw-like limbs, no collar, and no needle stabbing into his skin. All that he finds is... the pre-existing injection site, that had long since healed over.

He was alone with his blankets and his pillow, a dying fire in the fireplace, and the lingering terror of the nightmare.

Spooky

Despite the realization that it had been a bad dream, and that there were no threats in sight, he still felt almost afraid to move for a while. He pulled the blankets up around him like it was a barrier, camouflage to hide him from whatever lurked through his imagination.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep. Not without making sure everything was okay... So holding the pillow and clutching one of the blankets around him, he got up and checked the perimeter, wandering through the living room and down the hall, peeking in through the doors just to be safe.

Mystic

…So far, everything seemed to be clear.

The kitchen still smelled like the food Tikki made earlier - ‘om-lets’, or something. The burners in the stove were off, and all the dishes had been cleaned and returned to their rightful places.

The living room was the same. The book he picked up still sat haphazardly on the stack when he set it aside. The fire was still dying, the firewood stack neatly piled.

The windows were unshattered; no glass or broken drones littered the floor from his imagined combat. Peeking beyond the curtains showed a gentle fall of snow from the sky, and a dark, starless night filled with clouds.

…

Paying close attention to the house let him notice a few things. The scratches from the driveway were present here, too- they had been spackled and repaired wherever possible, but the signs of wear persisted. Wooden furniture was bent or scored in places, as if something big had clumsily scraped by it. These must be the signs of whenever Tikki transforms against her will, identical to what he found outside. This was a small abode to contain the oversized- whatever it is she turns into.

The door at the end of the hall has the most prominent damage, where the frame is buckled up and outward in a couple places, and the hinges had been repaired multiple times.

What did she say again? ’Shifting outside sucks because she can’t fit through the door,’ or something.

…There’s a faint buzzing sound coming from the door. She was probably asleep, oblivious to his nighttime panic.

Spooky

The sound was sort of like the breathing noises she made while asleep as the silver beast, but smaller... It wasn't like the buzz of drones, this was far less harsh and only happened at intervals instead of continuously. Still, just in case, he listened for a bit, before gathering up the nerve to open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Mystic

The inside of Tikki’s room was also dark, all lights in the room turned off save for a single lamp in the shape of a spiny fish plugged into a wall socket. There were more plants in hanging pots, some with flowers that wafted a sweet scent. A fan overhead spun in a slow circle. Against one wall was a tank full of water, plants, pebbles, and several small fish that flitted about once the light from his eyes was upon them. A filter hummed quietly on the tank, the only other notable sound in the room.

On the bed was Tikki, fast asleep. She was haphazardly wrapped in a thick blanket of her own, and what was visible of her arms and legs was covered in some sort of cloth outfit with more fish stitched onto it. She had a book open next to her on the bed. Thin red lines on the sides of her neck produced the buzzing sound he’d been hearing, every time she breathes. Was that how she snores?

The fish in the tank all swim at once towards the corner nearest the bed, swimming frantically at the tank glass.

Tikki grunts, her snore sputtering as she reaches up and rubs at her face with one hand. Moving to sit up, she looks first towards the tank. A pause, ear fins twitching, before she looks towards the door. The mermaid squints, her eyes reflecting the light from the doorway as she sleepily processes.

”Nghf- Sticks…? I see… your eyes glowing.”

Spooky

The glowing eyes peering from the doorway glance to the side self-consciously and duck behind the door, though after a few moments, one came peeking back into view.

Yeah, she'd seen him, there was no point hiding. The door opened more and he stood in the threshold, huddled in his blanket, his tallness diminished in appearance somewhat by his nervous, slumped posture. He squeezed his pillow underneath his arm.

"S... sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the fish tank filter. "Checking... if safe." The honey must have helped somewhat, that was the most talking he'd managed in one go since they'd met!

Mystic

There's a pause as Tikki's sleepy brain works its way through what he just said.

"Oh..." she mumbles, yawning- and revealing a mouth absolutely full of sharp teeth. "It's... ok, Sticks. It's just you, me, and the guppies... they started yellin' the moment you-" another yawn "-opened the door."

She rubs at her face again, this time with both hands.

"You gonna- be ok...? Can you go back- to sleep...?"

Spooky

Guppies? He looked at the fish in the tank, though he hadn't heard them make any noise, let alone yell. He blinked, but turned his attention back to Tikki.

He nodded, but it was clear by how he was carrying himself that he was hesitant to go back to sleep. He was still tired, but fear had put him in a state of alertness despite that. Backing up from the door, he turned to go back down the hall. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least keep watch...

Mystic

"Wait."

Tikki grunts, scooting to the edge of her bed and rolling her legs over the side. She adjusts the sleeves of her colorful cloth attire, and digs around in her blankets. She removes something lumpy and plush from the bundle of blankets, standing up to approach the door.

"Here," Tikki says, holding out the object to him. "Holding this helped me relax when I first started living on land instead of the sea."

It was a stuffed lizard of some sort, but it had tiny plush spines on its back and a little pair of plush wings. Fabric fangs poked out of a sewn mouth underneath tiny black bead eyes.

"His name is Slithers. Maybe he'll help you feel safe, too."

Spooky

His glowing eyes blinked in the dark like two half-covered spotlights as he picked up the little soft... creature? He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem to be alive. It appeared to be made out of the same kind of soft stuff the pillow was. The fabric that made up its plush hide had some kind of a spotted pattern that glimmered in the light of his eyes, like scales. Whatever this fake creature was, its appearance was endearing, and he smiled a little despite his anxiety.

He nestled it between the pillow and his body and gave a little nod to Tikki in thanks.

As he made his way back to the couch, he thought about what Tikki had said. She used to live in the sea... But what was that, exactly? A different town? He wondered how often she had to move. She had to hide too, right? If people found him scary to look at, they would absolutely find the silver beast to be scarier...

Getting to the couch, he took another look around the room. Still all clear. He was about to settle back down where he'd been before, when he stopped, noticing how his hand sunk down on the cushion of the couch when he started to kneel down on the rug. His eyes widened, and he squished the cushion with his hand.

This thing had pillows on it!

He got back up, and almost as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this or not, he cautiously sat on the couch instead, curling up in the crook of the couch's arm. It felt like he had more defenses this way, being in a corner- and it was a very soft and squishy corner. It was like he was gonna sink into it, but he didn't- not enough to be alarming, anyway. This was a good spot...

Snuggling down in the blankets all curled up and hugging his legs, with the pillow and plush sandwiched between the front of his torso and the back of his thighs, he sat there in quiet comfort until he finally began to doze off again...

Mystic

...This time, he's unbothered by nightmares, or even dreams. The comforting blackness of exhaustion envelops him, and for now, he's allowed to sleep in the peaceful silence of nothingness.

~*~

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[lynderman]

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐞? (Vance Hopper) Pt.2

Pairing: Vance Hopper x Gn!Reader

Word Count: 2,055

Date Published: 8/11/22

Description: Vance could break every girl's heart and not bat an eye. So why was breaking yours so much harder for him?

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Vance looked at your tear stained face as he placed his hand on your cheek. He had expected you to welcome the embrace like you normally did. Not to shove it away immediately. He felt a tug at his heart when you asked him that question.

"Why not me?"

He didn't like the immense guilt he felt in that moment. The way his heart seemed to stop as you struggled to breathe through your muffled sobs. He didn't like the way you quickly walked away and into the forest. Away from him. Truthfully, he didn't like himself much in that moment. Was it because he forgot your gift? No, it was because he was publicly humiliated in front of dozens of people. Both of those are wrong. He didn't like himself because he knew he had played you. He knew for years, and never did a single thing about it. Not once. He had dated on and off with tons of girls. He left them crying for him, pleading for him to come back. Vance Hopper could break every girl's heart and never bat an eye. Not once.

So why was breaking yours so much harder for him?

Vance began to speed walk after you, shoving through the rest of your party guests. He made it to the steps until a hand gripped his shoulder. He turned and saw Griffin give him a worried look before shaking his head at him. He didn't want to let you just run into a forest late at night alone. But there was nothing he could do since people swarmed around him soon after. Robin and Billy were sort of shouting things at him, asking how he could be so clueless about you. Donna and Finney looked at him like he was stupid. Gwen was off to the side talking to Quinn, making sure she was ok. Then there was Bruce. Bruce looked livid. Like he wanted to kick Vance to the curb.

"Did you hit your head or something?" Vance watched as Bruce stood up to him. "Huh?" Bruce rubbed his temples as he began to scold Vance. "Vance are you that stupid? That clueless? Did your brain just become as empty as your hair product bottles?" Finney put his arm in front of Bruce. "Bruce. C'mon. This isn't how (Y/n) would want-"

"I don't Give two shits about what (Y/n) would want right now! How would you know? How would Vance know? You know what they would want right now? Hm? They'd want Vance to answer their question. Why not them Vance? Why not (Y/n)?" Vance wanted to answer but he couldn't. He didn't know. He didn't know why any of this was happening. He didn't know why you even liked him. Vance wasn't listening to anyone around him. All he could think about was why he couldn't answer the question.

"You don't deserve them, Vance."

"Excuse me?" He took a step closer to Bruce. "You. Don't. Deserve. (Y/n). It's as simple as that. Nothing more, nothing less." Bruce quickly shut up with a punch to his face. Bruce wiped his bloodied lip, mumbling something to himself. Vance was ready to throw another punch until his mom shouted at him. She came running up to Bruce and examined his face to make sure he was ok. She took the opportunity to chew Vance out. This started another argument. Then Quinn jumped in. Then Robin began shouting at Quinn. Then Gwen started to yell at Robin. Everyone was screaming before Vance walked away. No one seemed to notice. He made his way towards the forest as well.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Vance hadn't made it too far into the forest when he heard the sound of footsteps ahead. He quickened his pace as he called out for his friend. It was hard to look around, as it was past 9:00 at night. He walked a bit deeper into the forest before he heard a yelp. He looked in the direction of the sound. Before he could call out in the night, a scream erupted. It echoed through the forest, followed by even louder ones after. He recognized the scream. It was the same one you had made when you dislocated your knee at the park.

Vance began to sprint in your direction, shoving branches out of his way. He shouted your name louder and louder until he heard you respond.

"VANCE!"

The distress in your voice only seemed to make him run faster. The closer he got, he could see the outline of your shadow kicking and screaming. Someone had a hold of your waist and was attempting to fight you. The person holding you noticed Vance and took that as an opportunity. Vance watched as the culprit took out a can of something and sprayed it in your face, your body seemingly giving up. You were soon thrown into the back of a vehicle, followed by the sound of an engine starting.

He aimlessly chased the Van until he saw it leave through the trails. Shaking and scared, he stood there not knowing what to do. Defenseless and shaking. What could he have done? The only thing he could do now was to tell someone else. So that's what he did. He ran back through the forest, trying to navigate the best he could. By the time he got back, he was out of breath and panting. Small cuts lined his arms from the branches, and Gwen took notice of this. "Vance what's wrong? Are you ok? Where's (Y/n)? Why are-"

"They’re gone."

“What'd you mean gone? Gone as in went home or-" Vance cut her off when he hurriedly walked away trying to find the adults. Your parents and his didn't get a chance to scold him since Vance began to panic. "Did you get (Y/n)?" Vance shook his head. He explained In the best way he could what happened. Your parents looked mortified. Your father ran to his car to drive to police station, while your mom began to frantically make her way to the forest.

Soon all of the guests were searching everywhere. The forest, the amphitheater, the surrounding trails, everything. When your father eventually made his way back, he was in the passengers seat of a cop car. Several cops trailed behind and began to help search. Everyone was looking until the next morning. But that didn't mean everyone stopped. Vance continued the next day despite his mom's concerns. He looked everywhere. The diner, the music shop, the park. Even the back alley's behind the bars. But no one succeeded in the search.

Over the next week, the town mayor had made a public announcement. There was a curfew set out over the town. Children had to walk in pairs. Your parents even put out a $650 reward for anyone who could find you. They rarely slept for the following weeks. Your father sat by the front door every night, waiting for you to walk through the door and set your bags down like usual. But you never did.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The following months seemed to go by slower and slower. Nothing felt the same to Vance anymore. His streak of not fighting anyone had ended. He was failing even more classes. Everyone around him seemed to dislike him more. People had accused him of things that he would never do. Sure, he beat a kid to a pulp before, but murdering his own best friend was a bit of a stretch. Quinn still stuck by his side. So did Finney, Billy, and Griffin. But other people didn't bother to spare him a glance.

Things started to escalate when more children were taken. Yet, these were only weeks apart. Whoever was taking the kids had no concern of being caught. After a good 4 months, there were no kidnappings. The town seemed to relax. But how could they? There were 6 missing children and everyone just forgot about them?! Everybody except Vance seemed too. He couldn't forget how he saw you taken right before his eyes.

Nor could he forgive himself.

He couldn't forgive himself for standing there, watching as you were abducted. The way he stood there, the vehicle speeding away. But he mainly couldn't forgive himself for the way he treated you. He soon realized that you were right. Quinn had taken up a lot of his time. Ditching you became a constant routine. You were never invited anymore. There were no more movie nights together. No stargazing. No nothing.

He couldn't forget the look on your face either. The way you looked at him with defeat and hatred. He often tried to push the night of your party out of his head and replace it with more pleasant memories of you. Like the time you taught him how to play guitar in your living room. Or when you came to his recital and threw your arms around him because you were so proud of him. And all the times you would watch the stars and talk about your ambitions in life.

He liked to remember your smile. The way your chipped tooth stuck out to him when you would beam at him. The way you would laugh at the stupidest things. He always found it cute. His favorite thing to remember was the way you held him.The way you welcomed him with open arms despite all his wrong doings. How how you were the only person he ever opened up to. All those times you would Clean his wounds and check up on him after fights. You loved Vance for himself, and he never understood that. All he ever wanted was to be loved. He seemed to forget that you deserved to be loved too.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

One muggy evening, Vance got called downstairs by his mom. He typically would ignore her, but he could hear the chatter of multiple people downstairs. Putting away an old box of polaroids, he got up and made his way to the kitchen. When he turned the corner, he saw the town sheriff, his parents, and Mr. (L/n) all around the table. When the sheriff saw Vance, he went quiet. So did the others. "Look, if this is about the go-go mart then I-"

"We found (Y/n)."

Vance gave the sheriff a confused look before turning to his mom. She wasn't looking at him. She was softly crying into her husbands's shoulder. Vance walked to them and looked out the door, as if he expected you to be waiting outside. "Just…not in the way we hoped to." He added. Vance didn't have to ask for clarification because your father gave it to him. "They found (Y/n)'s body along with the other missing children." Vance froze. "Body?"

The sheriff patted Vance's back as he frowned. "I'm sorry for your loss, son." With that, he said goodbye and left through the backdoor. Mrs.Hopper's sobs became louder as her husband hugged her fully. Vance turned to Mr. (L/n) with shock. He walked over and embraced Vance. "I'm sorry Vance." Vance stood there as he hugged him. He didn't know what to do. This was all his fault. If he had just spent more time with you. If only he had gotten you a birthday present. As Vance stepped back, he couldn't help but cry.

"I'm sorry Vance. I know how close the two of you were. You meant a lot to my kid. And I'm very grateful that you were there for them till the end. I don't want you to blame yourself either. It wasn't your fault. Nothing was. You're just a kid. You did everything in your power to help, and that means everything to our family. I know that (Y/n) would forgive you. So I hope one day you can forgive yourself as well."

The backdoor hit the frame as Mr. (L/n) left. Vance's parents hugged him as he silently cried into their arms. He wanted to say goodbye. He wanted to turn back time and tell you how much he appreciated you. How much he cared for you. How much he loved you. His crying turned into whimpers as his mother hugged him tightly. Why did it have to end this way? Why were you taken? Why not him?

Why didn't he choose you?

[carmillas-vampiric-rage]

What if It All Happens Again?

trauma doesn't leave easily. it lingers. sticks to you like cobwebs. remains a part of you like a still bleeding scar. and sometimes even when you think you're getting better, your finally healing, the scabs start to tear away, creating a fresh new wound.

warnings: hurt/comfort. descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks. very very slight mention of s*icidal thoughts (it's very vague). trauma.

a/n: this is a very personal story. I've been going through a very difficult time this last year and i thought i was coming to the end of all that stuff. but it got pretty bad today. so I'm writing this. I'm proud of myself for doing something productive with these pains. 🍊

bi-han x black biracial reader (gn!)

you half distractedly set your hair pick on your nightstand, staring at nothing in particular. your throat felt tight and uneasy sensations kept seeping into your chest and stomach. you finally gathered your kinky hair into a bun before wrapping your head in your silk headpiece, and that's when you realized you hadn't been listening to bi-han at all.

he'd been talking about today's mission. something about the next "champion" -bi-han's phrasing- liu kang had gone to find along with him and his brother kuai liang. "mediocre actor" and "imbecile" were only a few of the words you could focus on bi-han saying as your mind plagued you with your doubts. the ever looming thoughts that you were usually able to keep at bay. it's gonna happen again, i'm going to lose everything again. thoughts you'd gotten so much better at not letting take over your mind and body. but tonight was one of your worse nights, those thoughts were spilling into your mind, ever looming, as if they'd manifested into a large shadow figure that was always at the corner of your eye, reminding you of your failures, of how nothing good ever lasted for you, that you were doomed to repeat the same sorrows and traumas you'd barely began to heal from.

soon everyone here will hate me, just like they did back home. I'll be despised and abandoned and just like i was before...

your heartbeat was thundering now and your chest was tight, it felt hard to swallow but you did anyway, again, again, almost obsessively, even though you knew it wouldn't ease the block in your throat. it was getting more difficult to breathe, like weights were pressed up against your lungs, your stomach felt empty and hollow and you realized how tense your lower body felt. how you tensed up your thighs were as if ready to run if the thoughts kept plaguing you. your lower back ached and you moved to ease some of the tension. they'll find a reason to be rid of you, just as they did before.. you're never truly safe or liked... and it'll be my fault..I'll deserve it...

you heard bi-han speak your name and you snapped out of your drowning. he sounded slightly irritated, which was usual, as if he'd been calling your name several times already.

"mhm?" you responded, trying not to sound as anxious and depressed as you felt. you sat on the edge of your shared bed, back to him, foot lightly kicking your nightstand. bi-han stood on the other side, still fully clothed, not bothering to get comfortable as he ranted.

"did you not hear me?"

"i must have zoned out, I'm sorry my love." the smile you gave him did not meet your eyes and bi-han immediately picked up on that. "you have not heard anything i've just said did you?"

"no, no, i was listening." you lied turning your back again. "he's a cheesy wannabe actor who has no business in the tournament. i heard you." you turned again, only to smile at him again. and bi-han could still tell it didn't meet your eyes. he narrowed his own eyes at you.

"what is the matter?" he asked- moreso demanded of you.

you gave a long sigh and shrugged before absently running the fabric of your robe between your fingers. "it's nothing really, I'm listening i promise, tell me again how you broke this guy's priceless vase- I'm listening." you turned fully to face him. it was almost as if you were pleading with him. you were now tapping your thigh aggressively, to which bi-han also noticed.

i don't even deserve any of them liking me.. loving me... i don't deserve it.. how worthless can one be if they're hated by everyone?

"if something is wrong, just tell me. i know you don't want to hear about this tournament drivel." his voice sounded intense, mean, he wasn't even necessarily angry at you, he was always angry, but seldom at you, he never liked when you tiptoed around things, he just wanted you to say it.

you turned your face away, opening your mouth to speak, but a soft cry escaped your lips, one you tried to force down, and tears began brimming in your eyes.

bi-han's eyes widened. the realization you weren't just being weird with him for the sake of it hitting him in the face. in one of those rare moments, bi-han's anger dissipated, replaced only by concern, confusion. had someone hurt you? said something to you?

you tried to stop the tears from flowing down your face as your chest tightened and that uneasy sensation washed over you again, you finally felt how tired your body was. you brought a hand to your face as you began to cry, unable to hold all the pent up emotions in anymore.

bi-han was by your side in an instant. strong arms taking a hold of you. he pushed himself as close as he could to you, the contact sending something different to your body than panic and worry.

comfort.

but your tears still didn't stop, and your muscles still weren't relaxed. you tried to avoid him looking at you but he found your gaze.

"tell me what is the matter my dearest, I'm right here." though still intense, his voice was softer, quieter.

you only cried before trying to take a breath and speak.

"you do not need to suffer needlessly, my love, I'm right here with you." he brushed your cheek gently, wiping some of the tears away. you finally could face him, still crying as you rested your forehead firmly against his. he leaned firmly into you, steadying you, his strong arms still around you.

"i'm-" you started trying to take another breath. bi-han took one first, a long slow breath in, then out. it was something he silently always did whenever you panicked like this. wordlessly breathing in to show you you could do the same. and so you did, trying to follow his steady breaths with your uneaven ones.

"i'm just so worried again, about everything that's happened." your voice was raw and still shaking. but bi-han only took another deep breath, silently inviting you to do the same. as you exhaled you continued.

"I'm still so new here, in your home, in this realm.I'm still just.. not over it all. what if i lose this all again. what if I'm cast out, with no home, and nowhere to go. hated by everyone who looks at me. ridiculed and judged. hated by people i thought were my family... my friends...what if it all happens again?" your voice broke again, and you began sobbing more intensely. bi-han's brows furrowed in concern and a rare show of heartbreak. you'd talked to him of your previous life. the one you lived in outworld. the one you described with such adoration, such love and fondness. but also such sadness, such regret and anger. it pained him each and every time you spoke of it.

"where will i go if you all cast me out too? if i disappoint you all like I probably will? it'll be me, then won't it? I'm the issue. the pariah. no one cares about me. how can i bare it when another realm of beings hate me." bi-han felt his chest ache. an uncomfortable feeling. one he seldom felt. he wanted to fix it all. to be able to reach inside of you and take the pain away. to make sure you'd never have to deal with so much worry and sadness again.

you sobbed now. your foreheads still pressed together. the both of you still tangled in one another. bi-han spoke quietly.

"you will not be cast out from here, my love. i know it. but-" he paused a moment, trying to find the right words. he took another deep breath hoping you'd follow, and you did as best you could, though your breath was shakier than ever. "-but if that somehow happens... that still doesn't say anything about you. outworld, earth realm. they can all hate you, but that says nothing. absolutely nothing. they don't know you. how can they possibly when none of them even bothered to try? they can't see what's inside of you. your passion. heart. love. anger. will to survive. you're a good person. and even if all the realms in the universe tell you otherwise. they know nothing of who you are. you're better off without ones who would cast you off so easily.nthe ones that truly care for you will earn it. and show it."

your sobs had quieted down. but you wanted to cry again. bi-han's words hurt, but not because they were hurtful themselves. it was so incredibly hard to say nice things about yourself, to truly believe you were a good person. worthy of love for yourself. you craved connection. validation. and having that all ripped from you from the only home you knew- who'd thrown you out like a worthless stain meant to be washed out...it had broken you.

you took in a very shaky breath. realizing your hands were gripping onto bi-han for dear life. but he hadn't let go of you. arms held securely around you, his head against yours- grounding you, helping you get out of your own mind.

it couldn't happen again. it couldn't. because you weren't sure if you'd be able to survive if it did.

soon you found yourself laying across from him, limbs tangled still, as he gently brushed any lingering tears off your face. you felt your eyes getting heavy. sleep finally taking a hold of you. but you both looked at each other, gently, lovingly, as he caressed your face. you held onto him still, foreheads barely touching, and sleep had almost wrapped it's embrace over you when bi-han placed a kiss to your forehead and put a strong, heavy hand on your lower back, rubbing small circles.

you crumpled into him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. and he held you there. not saying anything more. just occasionally inviting you to take deep breaths with him. rubbing calming circles on your back, your arms, your shoulders. he felt so safe. so comforting. the pang of hurt would come into your head now and again, of everything repeating like it had for so long, but you just pressed yourself further into bi-han, escaping from the shadows and drowning as best you could as he rested his cheek against your covered hair.

"i love you, my dearest. unconditionally. and you are worthy of that love for yourself too."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[cyberwhumper]

He should have noticed something was wrong when he heard the tires shriek in the distance. Instead, he had been so eager to deliver the product and move on to the next job that he ignored his gut instinct and kept driving to the meetup location.

It only took them driving off the city limits to confirm that Whiskey was being followed. He speeds up and tries to lose them, but noticing his evasive maneuvers just makes Baxter more impatient. As soon as they chased him down to a more deserted area he knew whatever they wanted, whoever they were, they were going to get it. He didn't expect to see the face of his employer staring at him from across the steering wheel as he rammed his vehicle furiously on the side of his own, driving him off the road.

Whiskey only had so much time as to look at his injured client on the passenger seat before Baxter pulled the door open and dragged him off the car.

"What the fuck do you think you're d–”

Metal connects to flesh and he groans. The furious man throws him further ahead as his friends start to pull up in their own vehicles. He can see them brandishing weapons of their own. His fight or flight kicks in and he scrambles back up on his feet and books it behind the nearest cover, eliciting a loud laugh from Baxter.

"Oh come on. I know you're there, you fucker. Stop being a little bitch and come on out!"

The panicked man wipes the blood off his face on his shirt. His employer was right: amidst the ruin and rubble this wall could hardly be called a cover, and they had seen him run behind it. What else could he do? If he came out he was certain he'd be lynched. if he tried to fight they'd kill him. There was nowhere to hide. He knew he had to make a decision fast, yet the seconds ticked down and the window of opportunity closed.

He was surrounded.

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage // @squidlife-crisis // @whumpedydump // @cyborg0109 // @whumpfish // @astrowhump // @the-scrapegoat // @whatwhumpcomments // @dustbunnywhump // @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question // @dokidokisadness //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

[magentagalaxies]

Kids in the Archive: Episode 3

hi everyone you know the deal - i uncovered a bunch of original scripts for kith sketches with the help of the wonderful bruce mcculloch and now i'm here to bring you all a behind-the-scenes comparison of script and screen!

Previous Episodes: Episode 1 - armada finale ("do we make it?") Episode 2 - fran & gordon: the vacation

today's episode is dedicated to @ofkithandmckinney as we cover the script of their favorite sketch, s2e1's "comfortable"

the thing that immediately sets "comfortable" apart from all the other scripts i own is the multicolored paper is it printed on, with some parts being on pink and others on blue. this is not accidental - each color denotes a specific revision date which is standard practice for tv production, though comfortable is the only script in my collection in this style. the date for pink revisions is may 22nd 1990, while blue revisions were june third of the same year. while taking photos of the scripts, my phone tries to color-balance the images automatically to make it look like black text on a white background, so i had to trick my phone into letting me show off the pink pages here today

The Casting

since the opening of this script is near-identical to what we seen onscreen, I decided to use this section to highlight an interesting (and at times confusing) element of this script, which is that dave and mark's roles are occasionally switched. at times dave is designated as scott's character's wife and mark as the other husband. on a related note, this also wasn't initially written as a nina sketch, with the character being referred to as "marion" in this draft. all in all, while thinking about this alternate version of "comfortable" is fun, i frankly cannot imagine anyone else playing these roles, as all of them bring the perfect type of energy. plus, this nina appearance relates it to my web of kith sketches that exist in the same universe

The "Improv"

this script also allows us to clear up a misconception i've seen in the youtube comments of various uploads of this sketch: people claiming "i want you in me" was improvised

i can see where this misconception came from - while adhering to the script very faithfully, at this point in the sketch things feel like they're starting to fly off the rails, and each of the actors are struggling not to break. plus, this is totally something scott would do. there's a chance this could have been improvised during a rehearsal or table read (it is on the blue pages after all) but in the version that was broadcast this line was expected. however, there is a possibly-improvised moment in the recording which wasn't in the script. after scott's character takes his pants off there's a moment where he starts singing hava nagila - in the script it just says "da da da da". why scott chose to commemorate this moment with hava nagila we may never know

The Ending

unlike our past few sketches, there's no big difference between the script's ending and the final moments of the sketch on tv. all the beats are accounted for, with most variations stemming from the goldmine that is getting nina in this situation

as soon as i saw this script in storage i knew i needed it in my collection (with bruce's permission of course), and with all these fascinating production elements it certainly delivered. beyond that, comfortable is one of my favorite sketches as well, because i vividly remember the first time i watched it in the summer of 2022

pre-2022 i'd seen some kids in the hall before, but they'd always been scattered sketches and individual episodes all from season one. when i got into season 2 i didn't know what to expect. would this increased attention and production value make the kids less willing to push the boundaries? would they end up like snl? looking back it's hilarious i could ever think that about this troupe, but i identify "comfortable" as the sketch that really set the tone for what i was in for with season 2. the living room setup and premise of an awkward gathering feel similar to any number of middle-of-the-road snl sketches, which lulled me into a false sense of mundanity, until scott keeps pushing the limits and eventually starts straight-up fucking kevin mcdonald on the table. of course this season wasn't going to be your standard fare sketch show, as pretty soon after followed sizzler and sizzler and the iconic "touch bellini" contest, but as i saw the world of these suburban couples' descend into chaos it was comforting that this punk rock sensibility wasn't over yet.

[alienelvisobsession]

The Freddie Mercury Connection

How unlikely that one of the most revered rockstars of all time was born in Zanzibar (an island off the eastern coast of Africa) to Indian immigrants, right? But, after all, how likely was it that Elvis Presley, with his smoldering looks, swiveling hips, and revolutionary musical talent, came out of a dirt-poor family of sharecroppers from Tupelo, Mississippi? I find the parallels between Elvis and Freddie Mercury fascinating, and there are many in my head. Ready Freddie?

Considered two of the best and most recognizable voices in popular music, Elvis and Freddie both had an incredible, almost unparalleled, stage presence, they came from an unlikely milieu unrelated to entertainment, and died in a heartbreaking way in their 40s. I find the way they are remembered and cherished very similar.

But let's start from the beginning! When he was at boarding school in Panchgani, near Bombay, in the late '50s, Freddie Mercury, then known as Farrokh Bulsara, formed his own band, with his schoolmates Bruce, Farang, Derrick, and Victory. They were called "The Hectics". Surprisingly, Freddie didn't sing, Bruce did. Freddie was too shy, so he played piano in the background. "We all wanted to be Elvis," Bruce remembers. The girls from another school screamed, "just like they'd heard girls the world over were beginning to do when faced with current idols". They played lots of Elvis, who was one of the rock 'n roll idols back then, but also Fats Domino and Little Richard, two of Freddie's favorite artists.

That shyness that relegated him to the background in school seems to have gone by the time we meet him again in England in the late '60s, singing with his blues band Ibex. He opened his shows with "Jailhouse Rock", a song he also performed with Queen many times. It allowed him to "indulge in gleeful histrionics, but for some time the rest of the group were unsure about Freddie's stage antics." How wrong they were! See for yourself in this live version from 1982.

In 1979, two years after Elvis' sudden death, Freddie wrote a tribute song to his idol, in the form of a rockabilly pastiche. It's one of Queen's most famous songs to this day: "Crazy Little Thing Called Love". He notoriously wrote it in 10 minutes while lounging in the bathroom. “I did that on the guitar, which I can't play for nuts," he said to Melody Maker, "and in one way it was quite a good thing because I was restricted, knowing only a few chords. It's a good discipline because I simply had to write within a small framework,” he continued. “I couldn't work through too many chords and because of that restriction I wrote a good song, I think.”

Everything, from the production to the lyrics is a call back to early rock 'n roll music. His voice on that track sounds so much like Elvis' that some people think it's an Elvis song. He said about it: “My voice does sound a bit like Elvis Presley’s on ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’. That wasn’t something I was trying to do, naturally, it was pure coincidence. It’s all sung rather low, so then you soon come close to Elvis, especially with such a 50s-type song". Freddie even kicks it up a notch in the video by wearing a black leather suit (albeit with kneepads!) and styling his hair like Elvis did.

Aptly for a song with a rockabilly feel, "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" was Queen's first number-one hit in the States. I don't know if it was because she had heard that song, but Lisa Marie Presley, then only a child, said in an interview that she loved Queen's theatrics and that the first concert she attended was Queen in LA in the late '70s. She gave one of her father's scarves to Freddie. Even though he never met Elvis, Freddie cherished the scarf for the rest of his (short) life.

You can find my other Elvis connection posts at this link. I've written about Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, and Quentin Tarantino, among others.

[nekkomaa]

Not Safe

Notices will be added as necessary.

Just a note, i don't speak English, and this was translated by a translator, so forgive any mistakes.

Word count: 1740

Synopsis: Desperately in need of a job, you take the first job that falls into your lap. Never mind rumors or silly contract clauses, you simply start you fist day at work in a place that could haunt you for the rest of your life.

|| Next ||

First Day.

Eleven o'clock at night, that's when you walked through the doors of the old establishment and out of the rain, you couldn't imagine working in a place like that, with that fame and that weird look, but here you were a mere human desperate for the money they could offer. 

You were in deep shit, college didn't guarantee you a job like many people said it would, you ended up an unemployed twenty-four year old with debts on your back, having to resort to working in a place with a dubious reputation. Well, what else could you do? That was your only way out, it was either that or beg on the streets, after all the city you lived in didn't offer a very wide network of jobs.

As soon as you entered, you smelled pizza and something else that you couldn't quite make out, something like cleaning products? Well, you couldn't really expect much more from a place like that. With the place empty, you walked a little further on, hoping to find another employee who you could ask for instructions. The person who hired you didn't explain much, just said that they would explain more about what you had to do when you arrived at the pizzeria.

Obviously the communication between employees and boss at this place wasn't good, just as the place wasn't responsible for any damage caused during the service, you hoped that at least the mechanics, who fix those animatronics on stage, would enjoy this clause in their contract. If someone had told you about it before, you would have thought it was absurd, but now, desperate not to live on the street or go hungry, you decided that maybe it wasn't so bad, just because you really needed it.

"The pizzeria has already closed..." A faint voice came from behind you, and with a jump you turned around, startled.

"Am I... supposed to be an employee?" It came out more as a question than a statement, the tired-looking man just took a deep breath without bothering to say anything else. He walked past you and towards the back.

"Excuse me? What am I supposed to do? They said they'd give me instructions." 

Turning his body towards you, the man looked you up and down and spoke. "I think you should worry about just cleaning the tables, maybe dusting. There's not much someone of your stature can do here." 

"I was hired for the night shift, it was said that I should stay here until seven in the morning."

Wide-eyed, the man looked terrified now. He walked towards you quickly, frightened you took a few steps back and looked at him.

"Until seven, you say? Do you know who hired you or what exactly you were hired for?" He grabbed your shoulders, a certain pressure applied there. You were startled, you obviously hadn't expected it, I mean, come on, on the very first day apparently your only work colleague seemed crazy, you couldn't say much, you'd probably find yourself in a similar situation if you didn't start earning money. But the thing was, why did he seem terrified of having anyone else working with him? "Did you even read the clauses?!"

"I spoke to a man, he only gave me his surname, I think it was Afton." Grabbing his wrist, you tried to get him to let go of your shoulders, which after hearing the surname were being squeezed by him. "And yes, I read the clauses." You expected him to let you go, but he seemed to process the information you had given him. "Can you let me go? You're hurting me." He seemed to snap out of his trance and let you go quickly. 

"You should leave, just clean something up and go home, don't come to work tomorrow. I'd recommend you try to resign. It's safer that way." Arching an eyebrow, you stared at him, not really understanding why he was trying to throw you out. Is it safer that way? What did he mean by that? Obviously the job wasn't easy, let alone safe, but you didn't think anything would really happen. What could happen in a pizzeria in the early hours of the morning? Who would try to rob a pizzeria like this in a small town? They probably didn't even keep the cash here, so it didn't even make sense. What other problems could a place like this bring in the early hours of the morning?

You heard the rumors about children who disappeared a few years ago, probably in your teens, you remember this strange story, but you didn't think it was really true, or that whatever happened had already been solved since hardly anyone was talking about it. Was it really that big a deal? It didn't really matter at the moment, the guy was trying to send you away, and wanted you to resign, you couldn't really leave, you needed the job. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to quit, I need this job and I'm not going to leave just because you want me to. So should I know anything now that I'm going to be working here?" You asked him with a small, forced smile. Quitting this job wasn't on your mind. 

The man closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath, apparently he was irritated by your impudence, but guess what? You didn't mind his annoyance one bit.

"Just follow me." He finally spoke when he opened his eyes, not even looking at you. The man turned his back and walked away, you did as you were told and followed the man. 

"Shouldn't you show me around? If I'm going to work here I should know where the basic places are, shouldn't I?" You questioned the man as he entered a room.

"I'm sorry, miss, but we won't be doing any touring. I'll explain just one thing to you." He pulled you into the room and sat you down on a worn chair in the corner, standing right in front of you in a threatening way. Not so much, but he was convinced he looked scary. "At midnight, make sure you're inside this room, and don't leave. Understood? Or that clause in the contract will actually make sense." He turned his back to you without waiting for a reaction and pulled up another chair and sat down. He seemed focused on fixing something on an old computer that was on the table. "Interpret that however you like." 

You didn't really have a proper reaction, everything you could think of sarcastically to answer went away when you looked at the two doors of the place, red buttons were on the side of the doors, curiosity scratched your tongue, influencing you to ask more questions, as if what he had just said didn't matter at all.

You held back, and watched him walk away from the computer and look at the clock on the table, which you only just noticed. You were so preoccupied with the fact that when he came in here he wanted to throw you out, that you didn't think to ask him his name, well you didn't hold back, after all it looked like you'd be sitting here for a long time.

"So... What's your name?" The moment the question rolled off his tongue, he turned to you. 

"Mike. My name is Mike." He sighed before opening his mouth to speak again. He scratched the back of his head a little awkwardly. "Sorry, for earlier. Don't think I don't want you here, I mean, I don't want you here, but I have a good reason." You watched as he moved so that he was right in the center of the room and still had access to the computer. 

"What kind of reason would that be?" You asked bluntly. In fact, you could list several possible excuses that Mike would give you, something like, 'I didn't like you' or 'This is a difficult job for a woman, I think you should go home. Believe me, these are the excuses you've heard over the last few months when you've started a job.

The first time, your coworker literally spat in your face how stupid he thought you were, and that he wouldn't work with someone like you. The next day, your boss told you that customers had complained about the way you served them at the desk and sent you away without even paying you. You cursed him every time you remembered the scene.

The second time, your manly colleague told you that carrying orders in was too heavy a job for a woman and that you should be at home doing 'women's things', because you couldn't bear to work there. You told him to fuck off and your boss found out the following week, he probably had his ego kicked when you told him that muscles were no use if his dick was small, and he ran off to tell lies to his boss, who sent you away with a lame excuse.

At least she paid you well.

Just as Mike was about to start explaining himself, you heard thuds, it sounded like something heavy was being knocked to the floor. Mike looked terrified when he looked into your eyes, you noticed how he looked whiter and the way he turned to the cameras urgently, the noises didn't stop, you didn't move, trying to decipher where that noise was coming from, Mike however deciphered it first and immediately he got up from his chair and slammed his hand on the knob next to the door. A heavy metal door crashed to the floor, the noise echoed around the room, you jumped in your chair, and what startled you was not the loud sound of the door slamming, but the sound of metal being punched hard. 

"What the fuck?" you asked when Mike turned on the hallway light, Freddy, the main attraction of the pizzeria was staring at Mike through the glass, his eyes looked dead, and that scared you more than it should have. 

"That's what I'm talking about. Now get that flashlight and take care of the other door for me." Mike spat out orders in a rude manner. He looked tense, his head spinning without understanding what was going on, you did as you were told without question. Mike would have time to explain that later.

Right?

Part 01 - Part 2

[den-ai-d]

Ooof...a decade on this site eh?

Oh no, story time incoming!

10 years and yeah, so much has happened already. Originally, I made this blog back when I was in high school as a place to post my drawings; back then, it was all just pencil drawings on paper. Looking at them now...well it was obvious I still had a long way ahead of me LOL. And to think some people assume that everyone skilled enough in art must have had some innate talent for it. CLEARLY, they don't know what they're talking about because I was terrible at it early on!

But I mean, I didn't really think that of my art, did I?

No. In fact, I'm pretty sure that kid me was very much impressed with his own works. See, that child had a very bloated ego and a high opinion of himself. You should ask his poor friends; I'm sure they'd agree that the bugger could take a few lessons on humility with how he'd be sharing all of his silly sketches to them and pontificating on and on about how nice he thinks they are. Yeah, I was an insufferable kid.

But I do think that overinflated ego of mine turned out beneficial for my growth as an artist because without it—without my love for my own art—I wouldn't have stuck to it.

And stuck to it I did.

Went to college soon after that and took a program majoring in biology. Not much of a surprising choice since I've always liked the sciences and figured it would later on give way to a stable career; funnily enough, while I was very passionate about making art, I never thought it would be a profitable source of income. But that didn't mean I'd stop doing it on my free time though! Actually, this was when I got myself my first tablet! And what better way to start my digital drawing experience than to buy a FUCKING EXPENSIVE cintiq!!! With the extra motivation coming from the monetary pressure of such a purchase, you bet your ass I used the hell out of that thing. I was so intent on making use of it that—would you look at that—I still use it to this day! (Wow, they really made those old wacom tablets to last, didn't they?)

Obviously, college work ended up taking a lot of my time so I couldn't really draw as much as I did a few years ago. There were even times when I could only make one painting throughout a whole month; a far cry to my previous output. But even so, I never wavered in thinking that making art—being an artist—was something that was part of my identity; it was something that I always will come back to, no matter how much busy I got contending with course work.

And speaking of which, fuck that! Got my first honest-to-goodness mental breakdown because of all the studying I was doing at one point. See, I'm the type of student that likes getting good grades because BIG NUMBERS so I made it a point to be studious. To the point of insanity, apparently.

Anyway, I got better eventually and it all turned out nice. Even snagged all the awards I could've gotten for my thesis by the end of it! Yes, I am bragging. I deserve it, thank you very much! (For anyone curious, it was a study about plant pigments and using them in solar cells).

After that debacle, I found myself whisked into Adulthood which meant I finally had to find a job. Guess I was lucky since I didn't really have much of a hard experience searching for one. Got accepted into a cosmetics company for a lab position. Hmm, in hindsight, I think they just wanted a fresh graduate who wouldn't demand a high salary and that was me so I got in pretty easily. And honestly, the work was AWESOME. My job ended up with me coming up with formulas for new products. I got to make lotions, shampoos, soaps (ugh, I hated that one), perfumes, toners, balms, scented candles, and—oddly enough that one time—glue! It was a wonderful experience for me since it blended my interest in science and art with how it required me to think of creative ways of applying technical solutions in order to make products that needed to look, feel, smell, and perform a certain way.

As a bonus, I even got to make stuff for myself! I was particularly fond of making creams with menthol. The soothing chill on the skin is just so nice!

It wasn't all good though. I mean the menthol was fine and dandy, I assure you, but even if I was enjoying myself with the work, it just so happens that it just wasn't giving me enough money to provide for the family. Also, there was that one time I splashed chili oil on my eye. A very eye-opening and spicy turn of events to be sure.

With the bills stressing the hell out of me, I then thought to myself: if only I had a marketable skill that I could use in my off time as a way of engaging with a hobby whilst earning money.

Yup, I started my singing career!

LOL no. I opened art commissions for the first time!

It was a very scary experience, mind you. I don't consider myself a social butterfly and the prospect of talking with other people in a transactional context was a big reason why I haven't even considered doing it all this time. Turns out being poor and running out of money outweighed such concerns. Also, my keeping up with art and posting them online all these years seemed to have payed off well; my twitter having then recently crossed over a thousand followers which meant I had a decent pool of potential clients!

And so I bumbled through my first few commissions trying to appear professional and all put together in front of my clients while consistently shitting myself on the inside. Just like all well-functioning adults!

It was October last year when I started. I figured that I wouldn't have much in way of commissioners—what with being new to the business—and that was fine since I didn't have much time to put on them anyways since I did still had to go to work on my day job. What mattered was that it gave me enough of a financial buffer so that I didn't have to worry too much about going under.

This continued to the turn of the year where I was able to juggle both my job and doing commission without much of a hassle. In fact, I noticed that people were actually really interested in getting commissions from me. So much that at one point...I actually made more money in a month than what I would've with my monthly salary! At that point, it was so over! Like, I originally was planning to at least observe how things went within this year and then decide after if I would just keep it as a side gig or go full-time with art. Turns out I was much more impulsive than I expected.

It was on a bright sunny February morning (no cinematic storm clouds in sight, unfortunately) that I decided on a lark to approach my boss at work and tell them that yup, no joke, I was gonna be leaving. I handed my resignation letter a few days later.

I would've liked to say that it was a tearful goodbye with my cherished co-workers whom I've spent the last five years of my life with but...COME ON, I barely talked with those people! Instead, it was a lukewarm farewell between people who just happened to work in proximity to each other. Eh, like I said, I wasn't much of a social butterfly and no one really made an effort to get to know me so oh well. MOVING ON!

Actually, I couldn't just up and leave because there are laws around these kinds of things so I worked there for another month but all that was a blur. Soon enough, I was officially unemployed!

So like I mentioned earlier, I full on did not expect doing art as something that would bring in much in way of income. My parents too thought the same. They said that yeah, art was a good hobby but as job? Let's be serious here! Well, turns out we were wrong all this time. With me fully dedicated to commission work, I was able to take on a larger volume of clients. Not as many as some of you go for (I'm looking at you, people who take ten or more commissions per batch, you monsters!) but enough that I was actually making a stable living! And yeah, WAY more than my now previous job. What an absolute shock to everyone involved; me most of all.

Now it's almost the end of the year, my plans having all but shattered into tiny pieces. Tiny pieces that scatter with the wind as I look back on the past ten years that has led me to where I am today. A lot of time has passed. I graduated high school, college, then got a job. Then graduated from that too. Certain people have come and gone. Some more permanent than others. I've lost friends and made new ones. Tumblr got fucked. Twitter got fucked. The world stopped for two years. For some, it's still stuck in those two years. I made glue in a lab. Almost lost an eye in a lab. I bought chips with my very own money for the first time. I loved people. Hated them too. Things have happened. Things have changed.

I certainly am very different from that kid who was having troubles fitting in with others from his class, what with being bullied and suffering through a particularly angsty teenage (oh my god I was CRINGE). A kid who often sought drawing as an escape to all of those terrible things out of his control.

I guess I'm happy I can still relate to that kid.

[blurredcolour]

PART 5!!! WAS!!!! EVERYTHING!!!!!

Reader really was going through it in the beginning, poor girlie 😭😭ALSO I'm starting the "A New Love For Myrtle 1944" petition. Sing to make this woman happy again. We didn't spend much time with her, but hers is a sad story in need of a happy ending. Every signature counts.

I love that she's knitting now and I love that she's sending it all to Bucky ❤️❤️ You just know that those are his most prized possessions ❤️

And eeeew, where was my Miller trigger warning?? 😭 She's so mean 😭 Like, I get she's a product of her time and I'm judging her with a modern mindset, but YEAH I'M JUDGING HER!! People are dying! Let them be happy! Chase your own bliss, girl! Leave them youngsters alone!

OMG, Bucky's POV is all I ever wanted. Loved being inside that man's head. He is a mess lmfao. But I can only imagine what he was like the first few days since he can't remember himself. Buck was blessed with an endless amount of patience because we all know Bucky talked about that 1-minute at most phone call the entire time.

AND HIS REACTION TO GETTING THAT FIRST LETTER AND THE PARCEL WAS SO CUTE, LIKE MY HEART!!!

Their letters? 10/10. Soooo perfect, it felt like I was prying into other people's private conversations. And I love the little details she adds just for him, like the Yankees winning the whatever it's called (sorry, baseball confuses me severely).

And honestly, the TEASING the boys must be putting Bucky through between letters 😂😂 And he's on cloud nine, he doesn't even care. And I bet Buck is thrilled for him too ❤️ I love them besties, your honor.

AND YAY TO BABY EGAN ON BOARD!!! Coming soon to a hospital far, far, far away from Bucky 😔✊

Despite the little joke I sent in another ask, I get her reasoning for not telling him, but man's not stupid. He's gonna figure out pretty fast he's about to become a father if he hasn't already. What's left for us to find out is if he's going to write to her, saying like "the jig is up. Can we name them after my plane? Not the one that went down, that wasn't even mine" or if he's going to wait for her to bring it up.

At any rate, pretty sure he'll miss the birth since, as he said in the last episode, he's been in the stalag for like eight months already. Hopefully he will learn how to astral project by then 🙏🏻

History question to wrap this up: could POWs send things out of the camp to the people they were corresponding with? Can't imagine they'd want to part with anything, but I wouldn't put it past him to send her something for the baby as a way of saying "I know" instead of having any of them writing about it.

Beatriz you have blessed my inbox yet again

Firstly - I adore how you connected with Myrtle. She’s a complicated, wounded woman who thought she did what was right. I don’t think she anticipated the reader’s poor reaction to it all, honestly…but there’s no shortage of eligible men if she can allow her heart to take another chance.

The knitting! Yes! Inspired by the weird little hat that Bucky was wearing at the start of episode 7, I was thinking it would be a lovely connection and per Red Cross rules very much allowed! You bet he takes very good care of his winter accessories.

But Captain Miller - a woman with very different priorities from the reader and very rigid morals. Interfering and scheming, she is always looking for the next promotion so it is utterly bewildering to her that the reader resented one and then proceeded to ruin her well-laid plans. Good riddance to her.

I honestly hemmed and hawed about including a Bucky POV here but it was demanded by my brain and therefore we got several into his rapidly fracturing psyche. Bless Buck and his patience for the delirious ramblings of head wound Bucky 😬

Beneath any teasing from the boys, there is surely a lot of jealousy - the reader’s letters come faster, and she seems to send more? And the knitting…But they’re also glad because it’s dulling the edges of Bucky’s caged-animal behaviour…or it was 🤦‍♀️

Baby Egan 🥹

Baby Egan to be born stateside and definitely not named after Bucky’s planes because they were - Just A Snappin’, Mugwump, and Mlle Zig Zig. Don’t seem to roll off the tongue 🤣🤣🤣

His reaction is going to be very interesting, wish me luck as I do my very best to bring this all to a close in just one more part 😬😬😬

History answer - as far as I can tell POWs we’re only entitled to send letters, but I will do more digging!!

[cutiedwaekki]

Ok so I have a fic request if you’re interested! Basically Changbin is already really fat, and he’s with someone (whoever in skz you want it to be), and so his own lazy habits rub off on them, and they start eating more too. The person is in denial of their weight gain at first, especially as they’re skinnier than Changbin. Eventually though, they like getting fatter, especially as Changbin appreciates both of their growing bellies.

Ok thank you for hearing me out. Please write this, thank you 😌

basically, the fact that this was a request for a fic from you and that it included Changbin was a too good a thing to refuse to write 🤭

I think the last time I wrote so fast for a fic was a long time ago.

So for the pairing i go for a Seungbin because I think it's an underestimated pairing but above all it's my favorite 😌

I hope you like what I wrote ♡

ARE YOU HUNGRY ?

- "Hyung ... that's a lot of food isn't it?" Asked then Seungmin confused

- "What do you mean? I barely ordered a bit more than usual"

If "a bit more than usual" meant a dozen takeaway bags full of fast food instead of eight bags then yes it was more than usual.

-Hyung you know it's not healthy, I don't care what you do with your health but don't complain if you can't get out of bed without me" teased then the puppy like before sitting down next to him.

Changbin chuckled before putting his arm around his alant's shoulders and adding "You always say that, but you'd really like to see me at your mercy".

-"I just love your curves hyung that's different" he said without showing indifference while his hands they rested on his imposing belly to rub it

-"I'm sorry but this is more than curve" he interrupted him amused

-"What ? So you want me to say how much i love your fat ? You want to hear me saying how it drives me crazy hm ?"finally retorted the puppy with a smirk before snatching a languorous kiss from his lover

So as their Netflix and chill night was about to begin!

Oh, but let's introduce you to the couple.

On one side, Kim Seungmin works for a finance company. With his sarcastic nature and dark humor, he hid his devilish side behind his cute puppy dog looks that made everyone fall over. and he's also the number one fan of Changbin's body since day 1

He was of average height and very slim, so slim that you'd be thinking he was a model!

On the other side, Seo Changbin, his boyfriend of over 6 months, music producer for the JYP label and member of the trio 3RACHA who co-produced various music together, was his opposite, he might look imposing and frightening from the outside, but deep down he was a a melting marshmallow who could barely be spoken to.

Compared to Seungmin, he was small but above all big... really big! It was said that he should weigh between 130 and 150 kilos, but the brunette wasn't used to weighing himself. He was confident in his own body and love so much food to compromise

As you can see, Changbin was fat from a very early age, the son of a very well-to-do family. As he grew older, his love of food intensified, and so did his waistline, reaching the stage where he was now.

Their first meeting was something really special! it's was in a supermarket around 10 p.m , Seungmin was in a hurry and Changbin was tired, but as soon as they crossed each other's paths they lit up.

And it went on until now! They'd just moved in together, and although they'd have to get used to the routine of the other , it was such a pleasant feeling to live under the same roof as your lover.

and then over time they will be able to take on the other's habits for their own ...

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

- "Minnie? Why didn't you tell us we could have watched this movie together?" Changbin complained as Seungmin began to fall into one of his habits: hanging out when he had free time.

And it just so happened that the puppy had decided to do this on the day Changbin had to finish a music production and get to the agency, something he rarely did as he worked from home. So when the brunette saw her lover surrounded by empty snack packs, a pizza box on the edge of the table and an unfinished doughnut, he was only concerned that Seungmin was watching a film without him, even though they'd forbidden each other to do so.

-You don't like this kind of movie, so I didn't want to bother you with it" declared Seungmin, looking very concentrated on the screen in front of him.

- "I'd like to make an effort for my Minnie anyway" he declared as he scooped up some rubbish from the floor and slumped down beside his boyfriend.

-Ouch, don't push me too hard, I've got no more space afterwards".

The brunette simply giggled as she settled down to cuddle his lover and enjoy the film. Seungmin was right, he didn't like scary movies but he made an exeption just for clinging next to his boyfriend.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

And moments like this began to happen quite often. Changbin, who found Seungmin to eat more , becaming lazier . He had always been an advocate of home cooking, and now found himself ordering food very often, claiming he wanted to spend more time with his boyfriend than cooking.

The reality? He'd become completely lazy! If it weren't for going to work, he'd spend his days in bed, cuddling Changbin and watching a movie in front of a fastfood meal.

But this new routine began to take its toll on him and his waistline...

You might say that eating so much junk food a day only made him fatter, yet he seemed not to notice how his belly was now resting on his knees, how his thighs had thickened and his hips widened! It was something he had to face every day when he had to put on his three-piece suit to go to work, but he just assumed that Changbin didn't know how to use the washing machine but didn't say anything because he didn't want his lover to take it the wrong way.

- "If your suit's too tight you can have mine, it doesn't fit anyway" Changbin declared before pinching his own belly, he too seemed to have put on weight recently but it was only an addition to his already large and massive body. Just like that, Seingmin began to wear Changbin's old costume without making any sense behind them, as if it were normal for him to go from size S to XL so quickly.

In fact, he was in a state of desilusion, and it wasn't as if the world was hiding from him that he was getting big! His desk chair squeaked loudly when he sat in it, his appetite had increased even morr, approaching that of his lover, and let's not even mention the talk of his colleagues on his back, because obviously no one was going to ask him directly how Kim Seungmin had turned into a whale in just a few months?

The answer? His boyfriend, whom he loved so much that he agreed to have another piece of cake, was the reason why he had to spend almost entire weekends watching movies and eating junk food. The answer? Love.

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

-"Binnie yah come help me my jean don't want to close" yell Seungmin from their bedroom while he was squirming to try to close the button of this pair of jeans (which incidentally belonged to Changbin at the time they met)

The brunette came waddling up to him rather quickly before coming to his side, breathing heavily as if those few smetres of avakt mzrches were hard on him and his big, fat body.

But as soon as he saw Seungmin wriggling into one of his old jeans, he couldn't help but giggle loudly, earning a dark look from Seungmin, who cried out "Yah, you're not helping me!

- "Sorry Minnie, but ... these pants definitely don't fit you, so stop insisting, I've got some others that might fit you".

But Seungmin persisted, for him it wasn't a question of size but of willpower. "It's your fault it shrunk in the washing machine" he then accused him before finally goving up , totally out of breath.Changbin took offence (or at least pretended to) and gave Seungmin a half-confused, half-amused look.

-"My fault? You forgot you did the laundry last week! Besides, I don't think the reason here is the jeans, but you".

- "So it's my fault ?!" The youngest then raged before sitting down on the bed, causing a tear on the back of his pants that made him blush violently while Changbin became even more amused.

-"Now admit it, Minnie, you've put on weight... and not just a little!" He said at last, grabbing the part of Seungmin's belly that was sticking out of his shirt.

-"How dare you say that? I've only had to gain a few kilos, it's no big deal!"

- "Just a few kilos? Jagi , these jeans were mine, I was wearing them when we met. Remember how fat I was even before?" Declared then the brunette with a more understanding tone although amused

Seungmin sighed to himself, he had to face the evidence, if he'd just rip a pair of jeans from Changbin, who was very fat, then he'd probably become very fat too .... although he like the idea, after all, it's not as if he was going to lose that weight by magic.

-"Hyung, I'm hungry, let's order some pizzas!" he declared as he got up, stroking his own tummy to coax Changbin (which worked because he couldn't stop staring intently).

But the brunette didn't try to understand, in this kind of moment words weren't enough, so he just said "What kind of pizza do you want?"

.˳⁺⁎˚ ꒰ఎ ★ ໒꒱ ˚⁎⁺˳ .

- "Minnie, that's a lot of food, I don't think we can manage to eat it all. .."

Seungmin turned to Changbin in disgust, when did the brunette refuse food now?

-"You're the one who told me you couldn't make up your mind, so I took it all, and if we don't eat it all, we'll have something left over later".

-"But it won't taste the same afterwards".

- "Let's make eat now then"

- "I'm going to start believing you eat so much to try and look like me."

- "Or I'll make you eat much as I do so that I look thin even next to you."

- "You'll never look thin with that body" he camebashing as he patted her bellybmasskf lying heavily on her thick thighs

Seungmin just laughed before kissing his lover and adding, "At least I always want to go through the front door!"

-"Only for the moment"

[kirchefuchs]

so @an-t-hiho (previously known as @/ann-aha) and I have been screaming at each other in our dms discussing a few things abt lmk

and we have both agreed that there should be an AU where Wukong doesn't completely Screw Things Up between he and Macaque and they both end up tormenting being mentors to MK

(forgive me for not knowing/maybe not remembering a ton of things abt Wukong's past bUT I heard from somewhere that in JTTW the Tang guy from the past completely tortures him with that crown thing?? hoping to use that as some sort of motivation but uhhhh hEY I do not know a lot abt JTTW so um. ahem. unless if you have some spare knowledge to give us, we're just gonna make stuff up as Ant and I hyperfixate about this soon-to-be AU we're planning on making)

bUT. but. but. we have plans™. and it's not just me this time who's thinking of these ideas (but it'll definitely just be me raising your inbox cuz Ant's still too nervous to do that) cuz now he and I are in the same fandoms for once in. like. uh. (checks calendar) ...a few months–

SO. I might send an ask again regarding our ACTUAL ideas (aaaand maybe Ant will reblog and/or add smthn a few hours after?? not too sure but knowing him he just might) AND you're gonna deal with it again /lh /silly

(I also might post about it. maybe. probably won't but just. mmmmmmaybe I dunno actually shdhdh OKAY BYEE)

(this also may or may not have been inspired by that one piece of fanart with P!Wukong saying smthn along the lines of "Do you really think you mean so little to me that I'd just kill you just like that?" and P!Macaque saying smthn in return like "You didn't exactly make it difficult for me to think that way," but, yk, I'll probably find it again–)

— 🅰️non CH🅰️Y || Oct. 20 2023

This ended up so much longer than I anticipated ( ﾟAﾟ )

Okay okay okay I need to explain a lil thing real quick. Tang Sanzang (Tripitaka) did not torture Wukong, at least not intentionally. There was a really good post about it somewhere on here, but I cant seem to find it so I'll explain what I can.

First off, Tripitaka was the main character of the story, and while he had some flaws (ex: listening to Bajie too much), he was a good man, and would never want to torture any of his deciples, no matter how annoying they'd get. He's a Buddhist monk afterall, there's a whole no violence thing.

The golden circlet/crown was given to Tripitaka by Guanyin to act as a way to punish Wukong for things he does wrong. Think about it for a moment. Remember, Wukong was just released from under a mountain after terrorizing the entire celestial realm, becoming 7 times immortal (I think it was that many), fighting all the celestial armies, peeing on Buddah's hand. After being released, Wukong promptly killed a tiger and skinned it so he could use the skin as clothes.

SO YEAH, obviously Tripitaka would take her up on a crown that would give the monkey really bad headaches!!! (Reciting a specific scripture I forgot makes the crown shrink, but it doesn't kill Wukong because he's very super immortal).

Now the thing is, yes, he did use the spell on Wukong multiple times when Wukong had done nothing wrong, but a lot of those were because Bajie told him Wukong did something wrong, or he just didn't have all the facts. Now, I haven't read the Journey to the West either, and most of my knowledge comes from the Overly Sarcastic Productions videos summarizing the story (which you should watch, btw), so I dont have all the facts, nor do I have a perfect knowledge of the parts of the story I do know, however I am confident that Tripitaka did not intentionally tourture or abuse Wukong. I mean, Wukong cut off his own head once for fun, so idk what else to say, my guy.

Do I think that using the migrane spell is the most moral thing to do? No. Was the spell the only way to get Wukong to cooperate? At the very start, very possibly yes. Later? I'mnot sure. Is Tripitaka a bad guy for using it as much as he does? No, he didn't know better. Are the Wukong girlies wayyy to obsessed with angst? Yes, so very much. I fear for them.

It was not the point of the story for Tripitaka to be abusive. The story was meant to be symbolic. Each of the pilgrims symbolized a part of a person. Tripitaka was the heart, Wukong the mind, Zhu Bajie the body, Bai Longma the will, and Sha Wujing the emotions. (There are some lovely people on this hellsite who can explain the symbolism better than me, so you can go look into that if it interests you.)

All in all, every one of the pilgrims were pretty stupid (affectionate) in their own ways, and I hate seeing people hate on Tripitaka soecifically when the story is so ridiculous a lot of the time. I just love these silly little guys, and I think we need to remember that they are very silly. Tripitaka never meant to be cruel to Wukong just as in lmk Wukong and Macaque never meant to be cruel to each other in their past. All these idiots are pretty bad at communicating, and Tripitaka is incredibly socially awkward. Man doesn't know how friends work.

I just think we should cut him some slack for the mistakes he made. Yall forgave Wukong for all his chaos and bloodshed, so I think it'd just be fair to forgive Tripitaka for not really comprehending having hurt Wukong.

Anyways, I'll shut up now. I'm excited to hear the ramblings of you two nerds ♡♡♡♡