#i fucking hate being employed it always makes me want to die

[ratbastarddotfuck]

Shoutout to me from five weeks ago, about to start my new job, saying "watch this space, in about four weeks my mental health will be deteriorating rapidly". That bitch was bang on the money.

[sophieinwonderland]

Sophie, you fundamentally misunderstand why people say you don’t see your opponents as people. They mean that you do not exhibit empathy for these people. Usually appeals to humanity elicit empathetic responses, and your apathy is rather concerning.

I don’t know if you have a condition that makes empathy difficult for you. If so, that’s understandable, but I would also then encourage you to step back and work on that skill before developing a large platform around fighting with other people.

However, you do seem to express empathy for those who you agree with, so I don’t think you entirely lack the skill. I think you just struggle to employ it when it’s emotionally difficult to do so. That’s understandable. You probably weren’t taught how to do so! Most people aren’t.

Regardless, you are nearly 30 years old. Your executive brain — which includes empathy — is fully developed. You are interacting with mostly people whose empathy is not yet fully developed. The onus is on you to model healthy behavior to your audience. You do not do this.

I’m going to be harsher from now on. I want this to really sink into your head. I don’t think you fully grasp the gravity of the things you say. I want you to know I’m not attacking you, I’m just trying to be firm and show you how alarming this all is. I really and sincerely encourage you to read my words as someone who wants to help you. I want to help you. I am worried about you and your health. I am worried about your followers. This is coming from a place of concern.

You are also a threat, Sophie. As a pro-endo system, you are incredibly frightening to me. I do not feel safe in pro-endo spaces because of how violent they are becoming, often parroting your rhetoric. I honestly see you as more of a threat than most anti-endos. Most anti-endos I have ever met are more caught up in definitions than an actual hatred of endos. Most anti-endos I’ve met are also young — much younger than you, anyway — and are thus still limited in their worldview. Often a conversation or two is enough to help expand this worldview into greater inclusivity. This won’t happen with everyone, of course, but we can’t reach everyone no matter what. Some anti-endos will always hate pro-endos, just as some pro-endos will always hate anto-endos.

You don’t treat anti-endos with empathy, and thus you only cause more harm, for both sides. You do nothing to change minds. You are only radicalizing people further. I promise you don’t make anti-endos think “oh wow, I need to change my ways because pro-endos want to take everything from me and make me suffer.” You make them think “holy fucking shit, pro-endos are monsters.” And while you may have radicalized other pro-endos to the point that joining pro-endos spaces can start to feel like joining a platoon, all you do is make me feel less and less like calling myself a pro-endo. I don’t like being in spaces where the majority of what people talk about is “I hate X people so much I wish they’d die.” These places feel hostile. There’s always been a layer of hostility, but it’s been getting much worse recently. And a lot of these people look up to you.

You are exactly what you despise. You actively cultivate a hate group yourself, dedicated to encouraging real, tangible harm against anti-endos. The things you post are genuinely more in line with actual definitions of hate groups, actually (remember, marginalized communities can also form hate groups). You do not address the structures that lead people to become anti-endo. You instead attack, threaten, and set your followers onto the individual people who are also hurting under the system that hurts you. This is not doing what you think it does! This isn’t a “gotcha” at anti-endos. This doesn’t stop more people from becoming anti-endo. You’d be more successful appealing to institutions, not anti-endos or other pro-endos, if your actual goal is to reduce anti-endo ideology.

But that’s not your goal, I think. Your goal seems to be “make them hurt as much or more than they hurt me.” That’s maladaptive. You legitimately are going about this in the way army recruits are trained to kill. Maybe you were in the military, I don’t know, but that thinking is very, very dangerous.

You are not on a battleground. You are on Tumblr or Reddit. You’re not bringing any systemic change by arguing on Tumblr or Reddit.

I think you also fundamentally misunderstand your opponent. Just as many anti-endos can say that pro-endos “hate us for our existence and even if they're not directly attacking us, they're supporting those that do.” Just as many anti-endos receive threats, including from you. Many anti-endos see pro-endos as ableist bigots, and that’s the source of their upset. Many anti-endos think pro-endos are overrunning their spaces.

The talking points are the same. You are excusing sadistic behavior on your part. That doesn’t make the behavior acceptable.

If you don’t care that someone else is a person, if you hurt them fully knowing that they’re another human being and that your actions will seriously hurt them, you are not an inclusionist. You are not an advocate.

You are dangerous. Period. MUCH more dangerous than the person who doesn’t realize their opponent is also human.

If you want to empathize with everyone, be my guest. 🤷‍♀️

Maybe that TERF on the other side of the screen is a victim. She was abused as a child. Then she grew up and entered into abusive relationship after abusive relationship. On top of that, every attempt at getting ahead in a male-dominated world has her battling the patriarchy at every turn. She's talked over and beaten down for the crime of being a woman in a man's world. It's cruel and unfair.

Her history, her trauma, makes it easy to radicalize her against all men. Every man must be inherently evil. And as for trans women, she thinks, “how dare they call themselves women? How dare they claim my experiences and the experiences of my sisters when they've never suffered like we have?”

And then she's fed a narrative that these “men” are pretending to be women to be able to sexually assault her and her daughters. And every time she enters the bathroom with someone she thinks is trans, she's going to have a panic attack and flashbacks to the worst days of her life.

If you want to empathize with the opposition, good for you. Think about how every advancement of trans rights is going to further retraumatize this woman and every woman with a story like hers.

Do you feel good about yourself, advocating for trans people knowing that doing so is going to hurt victims like this?

Well… you should. Because to do nothing, to choose not to defend trans rights, is going to hurt trans people who face discrimination and bigotry themselves. Inaction is worse.

I firmly believe the morally right thing to do… is to support the policies that are going to retraumatize some victims of abuse to protect trans people. And to push rhetoric that paint all TERFs, including women like that, as bigots who are dangerous and harmful. And if that woman is harmed by this rhetoric… well, no matter what led her to her choices, she still sided with hate. She still chose hate.

The road to every positive change in the world is going to be paved with hurt people, and she's just another brick in it.

Someone was telling me this not too long ago, and it’s a line I’ve rolled over and over in my head so many times since…

“It is heart-shattering to look in the mirror and recognize that you have done harm with good intentions. It is a come-to-myself, life-changing moment that we have had to endure several times already”

And I've thought about this because, for me, this just has never been true. I’ve been fully cognizant from the beginning that however nice I go about it, even if I try to minimize harm, my actions are going to hurt some people. There will be repercussions for whatever I do.

Perhaps lately I’ve been leaning into this too much where I’m intentionally making myself look scarier. But maybe I’m just tired of feigning ignorance. Of pretending my actions are harmless when I’ve always known that it’s a lie we tell ourselves to feel better about doing what has to be done.

I don’t like being in spaces where the majority of what people talk about is “I hate X people so much I wish they’d die.”

I'm just going to say that I don't see this actually happening. Here on Tumblr, I can only think of one post telling anti-endos to die, and it was basically phrased as them returning the same energy to anti-endos that they give to us, in response to months of anti-endos tagging posts with "#endos die" and even passing around that one image saying "death to the endos of Tumblr."

I do not condone or support telling anti-endos to die under any circumstances, but I do see telling random people to die for being endogenic as being different from responding to death threats in turn. And again, this is the only post I saw like that on Tumblr recently while I've seen many from anti-endos.

I also haven't noticed this sort of culture on r/plural when I've been there. Even when topics do go to sysmeds, they aren't wishing death on them.

I'm not saying you're wrong, because it's possible that this is happening in whatever isolated Discord servers you're in, but I haven't seen it happening in the spaces I frequent.

And if this is a problem, I'm not sure how much can be linked back to me when I'm not even in those spaces.

If this is becoming more frequent, maybe it's just in response to anti-endos ramping up their own rhetoric and becoming more violent in publicly calling for the deaths of endogenic systems, regularly wishing pain and suffering on us, intentionally invading our spaces to hurt us, and bullying and harassing endogenic systems and supporters like they've done to Aimkid and the Yaelokre server.

Just as many anti-endos can say that pro-endos “hate us for our existence and even if they're not directly attacking us, they're supporting those that do.”

Oh, bullshit!

Don't you dare try to "both sides" this!

Sure, anyone can say that, no matter how stupid of a comparison it is.

Except it's pretty clear that anti-endos are hated for a harmful ideology. Not for their existence.

If they don't want to be hated, they can just choose not be hateful to people for their existences. Simple. Easy peasey!

And since you claim to be a pro-endo system, I should also point out that if you're fully traumagenic, and you so chose, you could jump ship and join with the hate group to avoid getting hate from them.

If I don't want to be hated by anti-endos as an endogenic systems though, what are my options?

There are only two, really. I can either lie and pretend to be something I'm not. Or I stop existing. There is no other out because this IS about my existence, not simply my ideology.

I don't have a real choice but to ride this ship 'til the end and do my best to eradicate anything that tries to sink it.

And this also applies to your line about how I'm supposedly cultivating a "hate group." Because actual hate groups hate people for their immutable characteristics (and sometimes religion), not simply their ideology. No matter how much a group despises Nazis, you can't have an "anti-Nazi" hate group, because Nazism is an ideology.

Many anti-endos think pro-endos are overrunning their spaces.

You're leaving out the part where they think any spaces they happen to be in are "their spaces." Like say, a Yaelokre server that happens to be welcoming to pro-endos.

A major theme in recent sysmed rhetoric as more pro-endos branch out to and are accepted in new spaces is that we're now invading spaces that aren't even system-related.

Not to mention them trying to claim our spaces, terms and resources that have always been pro-endo as their own.

You say this isn't a battlefield, but in a way, I believe it is. No, we're not killing each other. But it is a fight of sorts, where anti-endos will do everything they can to get rid of us. They'll harass not just us, but people who support or even are neutral to us, with the express intent of getting us kicked out of literally every space we're in, even if that space isn't system-related.

And I fully believe that the best strategy is going to be not appealing to anti-endos directly to change their minds, but amping up rhetoric so that people who haven't formed an opinion will start viewing and treating sysmeds the same way they treat transphobes, homophobes, racists, sexists and the like.

And yes, this will hurt a bunch of people in the process. I know many are trauma survivors. They're people with friends and families of their own. Some are people who have similar interests to mine. And if they don't change their ways then things won't be good for them.

But the thing you need to know about me is that... I've made my peace with that.

You are dangerous. Period. MUCH more dangerous than the person who doesn’t realize their opponent is also human.

"Seeing your opponents as human is more dangerous than dehumanizing them" is a surprising take to see.

But you know... for once... you're not wrong.

Dehumanization is the primary weapon of anti-endos. And while great to make their followers okay with hurting and harassing people, it also makes them ineffective because they spend most of their time arguing with strawmen and refusing to listen to the actual arguments and positions of their opponents, or acknowledge their experiences.

So I'll give you this one. The fact that I see sysmeds as human lets me see all their little human vulnerabilities other people would miss, and it DOES make me more dangerous.

And I sure hope they remember that.

[heartfucksmouth]

so my mil def overheard my meltdown yesterday and she's been quiet and meek and I can tell she had been emotional. before she left for work this morning she mentioned it and said if she can do anything to help me be happy living here she'll do it. but like... you wont?? how you act 99% of the time makes me unhappy and uncomfortable and like I'm being judged??

my mom said maybe it's good bc she needs the reminder... but it's exhausting bc my mil needs a reminder every 2 months to stop being a miserable asshole bc she's insecure af (and super trashy conservative White Woman) and it's not my goddamn job to be her mirror or her life coach or whatever the fuck this is

I don't *want* to dislike her, I don't want the stereotypical shitty mil relationship, I don't want to be uncooperative or hard to live with, but I also can't deny the feeling she gives me in my gut. Shea a fucking asshole and she doesn't even know it (or denies it bc she can't confront herself) and like. if she's spent 50 years this way, I'm not holding my breath that she'll change.

she's everything I despise.

she's racist, sexist, ableist, hypocritical, she's inauthentic always, fragile af, she lives her life in fear and speaks incredibly confidently about things she knows nothing about,

shes a hoarder of toilet paper among other things, shes a terrible cook and thinks salting food will give you a heart attack and she cooks meat while it isnt completely thawed so its dry af, she complains about everything and does nothing to change it,

shes self employed and has no financial plan for retirement besides relying on her husband (and son?). she charges us ridiculous rent so we'll never save up and leave, she yells and swears at her dog for doing dog things and uses intimidation to make him behave, she refuses to clean her house "unless someone pays" bc shes a house cleaner for other people,

she moves my shit and we essentially dont have evidence that we exist in the house except in our room (me and myles would have to bring our shower stuff into the bathroom every time until i bought a shower caddy and hung it up without asking), she once threw away myles toothbrush bc she "was sick of looking at it," if anything is wrong or broken or missing its ALWAYS myles fault, she expects myles to bring in the groceries every day even if its one bag,

she'll do all the dishes but leave aidans bottles for me to do, she insists aidan will die if he doesnt wear socks, she sits him in front of the tv and leaves him there, she lets him cry and tells him hes fine while refusing to pick him up to comfort him, she only knows how to make him fall asleep with a bottle and once hes asleep she puts him down, but she's pro-life and tried to use Aidan being born as further proof supporting her belief ..

she's a Trump supporter. STILL. I should have just lead with that. I could go on for a while longer but I'm exhausted.

idk. idk what to do. I'm just going the way I did with my dad and trying to feel nothing for her. I get that she's human and flawed and has her own shit and she's fucked up and insecure but like. I don't care? I don't want to cater to it or live with it or expose my child to it. I feel guilt for it, but I'm not going sacrifice myself to make others comfortable anymore.

I really hate this.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary2

today we did errands and i did hate it like i thought. i don't know why i hate it so much. like okay hate it's too strong a way to put it but it wigs me out totally.

i guess probably, i hate going outside lately, and partly being around my gf and her mom puts me on edge, they're both anxious people who dawdle or i feel like they dawdle and i just want to go back home because it's hot out because we live in the dumbest desert ever and even if they're both having a good time basically it's made up of 100 mini arguments that no one has any stake in until one of the decides that something was really actually transgressed and that makes me feel catty and irritable but also i'm stupid and lazy, or i don't know. i feel kind of like i have to do most of the important stuff, but what is that really, that's not true, i just watch the laundry in the laundromat, i sit and listen to orchid, i feel people stare at me and then i watch my girlfriend fold the laundry because she doesn't like/need my help, and then we go to the store and she wanders around, she used to be a lot worse, and she also randomly decides rather than having us go look for something in the direction we're going maybe she should ask her mom to do that, and then get disappointed with what her mom brings her, so we go look. i don't know. it's annoying, is all, and i feel bad about that because it's so dumb to be annoyed, it should be funny it feels like but it makes me a little miserable to be dragged around places that make me feel totally dirty to be inside of, like, have you looked at the floors of every super market/market/wherever you buy your vegetables like god it's so gross and i'm transfixed by that because i'm like, also that gross too basically, right.

or i think that way a little. otherwise today was fine except for i came home and went crazy. when i go crazy i just say the same thing over and over, and i don't know why, it's not mean stuff it's just all stupid, i feel a clot in my throat talking about it/typing it, because like, what is it, i'm always convinced i know exactly what i'm saying when i'm saying it, but i can hardly remember, and like, there's almost no intention, i just start doing things and i can't help it, i just do it. when i'm super stressed i guess i just become way stupid.

definitely.

n e wayzzz, yesterday i think i fucked up a number, it wasn't 22 i stopped crying right, it was earlier, like, 21-20-ish probably. i don't know why correcting that feels so important. it makes me look way more pathetic, which is fine, i've made peace with that. everything that's ever happened to me means way too much for way too long. i don't think i hold grudges, at least.

last night i saw this print in the towel from last time i wore makeup, it happens every time so next time, which will be soon cuz i'll put makeup on when i go see melt banana cuz i want to serve cunt i guess, anyways it was my eyes closed drawn w/ mascara, when i washed my face and i couldn't get all the stuff off my face because i'm really lazy with the micellar pads or actually it's mostly because i like waking up and seeing some on my face still. i think it's actually when eyeliner looks best on me.

that's like, true.

tomorrow is gonna be weird because i have to meet with someone for semi-professional reasons after not having a job forever because i'm honestly terrible at being employed and it makes wanna die, but this is me probably getting paid to make music for someone's movie, and he likes a demo i did for him so that's #cool right. it's scary because i don't know what he'll say and how much he'll want from me, and i'm scared about not being perfect at it, and i'm scared it'll sap my ability to make what i normally make anyways but that fear is really stupid. if anything i think it'd make me want to go the other direction more, right.

i did work on music today but no vox, i just took some drums off grid on a song, which is fun, or not really but it's rewarding to go through and think about how another human would be dealing with a song/interpreting it in a live way almost, but the hits being so clearly from a drum machine of some kind, it makes it a little uncanny.

tomorrow i need to wake up early, so i can warm up and do some vocals somewhere, probably work on the song that i want to be another single a little bit, some parts need a little improvement i feel like. i didn't listen to the songs i did yesterday yet, too freaked out i guess.

today i ate, like, i forgot what i started with. i woke up in pain, my stomach was a gravity pit and it made getting up hard, i was just falling into myself and my body was distantly sore, i woke up, and i took too long in the shower so my gf's mom got here while i was drying my hair which probably is part of what put me in a stressed out place today already. anyways i think the first thing i ate after 2-3 hours of being awake was chicken tenders. i'm not saying where from because it makes me feel sort of ridiculous i guess, i dunno why. i should just say because it is ridiculous and it's really funny, for some reason shaq owns some kind of chicken chain, and we ate it today. it's fine, i like the french fries, they're crazy thin and i think i can still taste the salt at the back of my throat. we ate in the car because laundry had to happen. i didn't have water so i was dying a little bit. i have water now which is nice. uhhhhhhhhhhhh

trying to think, the next time i ate was at home, i ate a cinnamon roll that i think my girlfriend wanted but also doesn't care about too much and a blueberry muffin. i keep saying i'm going to eat the other one because it makes me look psycho, which is funny i think. what else.

in the shower, today, i thought about living with my aunt a lot, i hope my cousin who moved out around the same time i was moving out of there is well, i hope my cousin who moved in as i moved in there and is presumably still there, there being vague because maybe my aunt moved and took her kid with her, is doing better than he was, but i don't know. i sort of developed the fear that he maybe did something awful, i don't know why he would though.

makes me think about my other cousins, on my dad's side. they both turned out to have awful lives, they were normal for a while until they were adults, and switches came on in their heads maybe, around the same time each were arrested for domestic violence, both in jail. i remember vividly the time one picked up their cat and threw her in the pool and we three watched her run out, long hair all wet, she looked like a rat from a sewer. they were in highschool, i was way younger. another time, one showed me a glass bluebird, translucent, he talked about how it represented jesus, and then in that same stretch of time, i played ocarina of time on their n64.

i also ate some pretzel rods, i forgot, they were from the 99 cent store, i tried to get some in the smiths but my gf said: i got those exact ones in the 99 cent store. and then her mom showed up and she told that to her mom twice because her mom was not listening at all the first time.

friday we are seeing melt banana which i am excited about but i am not excited about hanging out downtown potentially cuz it's so fucking windy in the summer i don't want to have my bangs get fucked up in the wind that's so annoyinggg and also last time we were there i became inconsolable because i tried a dress on and it didn't fit and i was unhappy for at least 2 days. i think i sound really unfun in these posts. whatever.

[prusikknots]

It’s weird not being horny anymore… like, the past couple months has been a drastic difference compared to most of my life of horniness. Being alone, I was kinda sorta always looking, but now, my drive is almost completely shot. My heart really was set for one person, and once she turned me down, I haven’t had a drive to seek any kind of closeness (friendship or otherwise) from anyone. I’m still struggling to find happiness in being alone, but I’m finding it. And that scares me. I don’t want to die alone, but I’m also so demoralized to keep searching at all.

I have a couple dating profiles that I cycle in and out of, but I’ve ghosted the very few matches I do get. I’ve even apologized once, saying that I was sorry and I’m normally not someone that does this, but I’m just not ready to be close with anyone.

I know my ex is now months along with sleeping with and dating other people, doesn’t give me a second thought whatsoever and won’t return a single email, text, call, nothing. and I’m struggling so hard emotionally. I’ve had offers to shoot, hook up, and I just fucking can’t do it. The only woman I pursued post-breakup flaked on me constantly and ditched me for another roommate, and I’ve just given up completely.

I followed signs from the universe and I only got hurt, I’ve lost my faith completely when I worked so hard to gain my faith in the first place. I was a complete non-believer, then was forced to believe once I couldn’t deny the correlations and signs, only to be the one left behind and hated amongst everyone. My exes think I’m a narc, my ex wife thinks I’ve been whoring around since (definitely haven’t), I don’t keep contact with most friends I have left because I’m self-sabotaging them all since the vast majority left me over the last few years, I don’t feel like I have much left.

Except for my job, which is going amazingly well for once. I’m about to interview for a permanent government job soon where they just negotiated higher benefits, pension, everything, in a city with a near zero crime rate. If all goes well, I’ll be in a major step forward towards affording a fucking house by myself, which is unheard of. I wanted a partner with hobbies and/or a self employed job so goddamn bad because I know she will be happy with focusing on her own thing, school, and kids while I work a job I genuinely love and make sure we’re all provided for.

My heart hurts. I miss people that don’t think of me anymore, who I’ve either not spoken to or seen in months now. I feel completely worthless and I feel like I’d be better off dead. I don’t think people would miss me, because people already have shown they don’t give a shit whether I’m here or not. I’ll be no more than a passing thought, and I’ll be forgotten in a short time.

[sloppysmooches]

82023

i hate how change stresses me out so much, also just little things recently have been irking me. we kicked our drummer out of the band yesterday and it feels really strange, for me it was a little unexpected like timeline wise but it needed to be done he just wasnt taking it as seriously as me and everyone else and his morals are skewed as fuck. im excited for our new direction though, i really am manifesting being the like sole singer and us getting another drummer and then the lead guitarist being on bass because i just really want to shine vocally and its hard when im still a beginner on bass.

ive been thinking about my friendships a lot recently and more and more its hard to feel like i have a best friend anymore. its partially my fault for holding resentment against her and just letting it fester but im sure if i bring it up shes gonna whip out her best arguing skills which i have none of and make me feel not so valid. i was telling her i was stressed out about our show last night bc at the time i didnt know how i was gonna get home and i was really hoping she’d offer me a ride because in less than a heartbeat id do it for her but all she said was be careful out there text me updates which was nice i guess but idk i was expecting more.

it hurts so bad because in all my friendships regardless of how long ive met them if i feel a strong connection id die for them and no one feels that way for me except maybe one person but also idk if she’s genuine. maybe it’s because i have trust issues or quiet bpd lol.

i always feel like pushing everyone away and disappearing for a year like serena on gossip girl but that isnt very realistic. it just sucks because in friendships i bring so much to the table and no one seems to care as much as i do.

even on my friendiversary with my best friend she didnt seem to care, id ask so many questions about our friendship like favorite moments and stuff like that and her response is always idk. another thing that i hold on to is how on her 21 birthday i was like lets all say our fave things about her and when i said mine she just smiled but when our other friend whose her other bff basically said the same thing as me she screamed and jumped across the table to hug her and it felt idk degrading idk if thats the right word.

i think ill just do what im best at slowly pulling away. its so painful when she says shell always be there for me but if i send a text saying explicitly that im struggling she skips right over it and changes the topic. she wont even cuddle with me which isnt the hugest deal among everything obviously but it’s important to me and she seems grossed out whenever i even touch her hand yet shes so touchy with everyone else.

quick topic switch, i have a call back for a job on tuesday, hopefully they actually call me. my dads been so evil about the band and me not going to school or being employed but its a discussion we have so so so often and he never listens to me and hes never proud of me, all he gives a fuck about is himself and his wife and she doesnt even know the extent of his real personality in my opinion. but im manifesting this job bc its so close and i like the atmosphere and its heavy on selling merchandise and i can work on being more talkative to the public so idk itd be cool i guess.

sorry this entry is so fuckin long omg

[crystalcow]

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 3

Masterlist // part one // part two

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, death, betrayal

•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰

╔.▪️.═════════╗

Being sapnaps child will include..

╚═════════.▪️.╝

𝐏𝗼𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐥

Apparently the castle got attacked

George was killed by the one and only technoblade

You haven’t personally met the man but you respected him

After all he is a legend

But he killed George

So you were dragged with sapnap when he got pinged on his coms

Dream and George were arguing on the prime path

The sight somewhat terrified you

They were supposed to be best friends?

Dream is the strongest person on the server

George was supposed to be the most unproblematic and protected person

For some reason Quackity was also there

Hiding in the corner of Tommy’s house

“You don’t give a shit about us”

Those words brought some hurt to you as they left sapnaps mouth

“Of course I care about you! I just want to keep him safe.”

The three most important men in your life

The dream team, and ultimate trio the friendship that could never crack! The ones who raised you to be who you are

They were falling apart

“George is no longer king!”

Quackity was just eating all of the drama

Damn duck

“I’ve done so much for you, I hope you don’t forget.”

“Like what?” “I helped you raise a child Sap, a damn child.”

That pissed the both of you off

As if you didn’t just recently spend a whole day with him

None the less your whole life

Being drawn into wars, multiple actually

Practically being drawn to death

“Don’t you bring them into this Dream.”

“Eret is now king again, he can actually rule this place.”

“I was the best king this server ever had!”

So there it happened

The crown was snatched off of George’s head and you were dragged along with it

“Don’t worry, we can start our own place!”

“El rapids it is”

𝐄𝐥 𝐑𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐬

You were 100% skeptical about all of this

You didn’t trust that this would be good

I mean how could you

Everything that someone starts on the server

Dies, explodes, nukes, or straight up fails

So instead you went down to Lmanburg for the day!

You went to Nikkis bakery to get something to eat

She was glad to give you a couple snacks for the road

So while you were walking around the new area you spotted dream

“Where you heading off to?”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You both eyed each other weirdly

“Aren’t you supposed to hate me?”

You just laughed

Ofcourse you were upset

But you were also bored

“And?” “Come on let’s go see tommy”

So you agreed and carelessly followed the green man

You missed Tommy, after not having seen him for a bit

Fucking hell you needed friends

But when you got there

“Why the fuck is everything gone!”

You ran around the now blown up area

The tents were destroyed and signs were thrown around

Then you noticed the large pillar

You instantly ran to dream, begging him to give you a pearl

He was upset himself he lost his leech

So you threw the pearl up thankfully landing on the pillar

Looking around to see if there was any way he could’ve survived

But you accidentally tripped

And lost your first life

𝐘/𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝗼𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝗼𝗼 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 ♡︎♥︎♥︎

𝐏𝐫𝗼𝐩𝗼𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐬

You woke up screaming in your bed

The three lines on your wrist now faded into two

Sapnap came rushing in holding you lose to him

You tried not to but you cried a little

This was your first time loosing a life..

And you didn’t even mean too!

“Your never fucking leaving me again.”

Karl came in with Quackity following after

Karl just like snatched you away from sapnap and just held you

That man was ready to go back in time and reverse that from ever happening

Trust me he will if you ever loose another life

So after that everyone kept a close eye on you

That was until one day you were with your dad

You both were at your old house just chilling around

Before he handed you two velvet boxes

You were in awe of the two rings that sat in them

Who the fuck paid for these??

“I’m going to purpose.”

You almost dropped the boxes

“What?”

Sapnap just kept smiling

“You really like em huh” “Yeah flame, I love them.”

So you just hugged him

Internally freaking the fuck out

What would this mean???

Three dads? What if they wanted another child! Oh hell no

So you all stood in el rapids

Candles were spread around the top of the grassy hill

There were flowers blooming from every direction and lanterns set afloat

It looked mystical

You watched as sapnap got down on one knee

Karl was in shock, tears streaming down his eyes

Quackity looked love struck, looking into sapnaps eyes with total adoration

So when they said yes your dad called you and the other two just hugged you

“I’m guessing they said yes” you laughed

“Yeah they did!”

You couldn’t help but be happy

Your dad finally found some happiness

Even tho life was going to shit

If you won’t be there

He’ll have them

𝐋𝗺𝐚𝐧𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝗺

Oh wait shit did someone spot tommy?

There was supposed to be a festival today

So you went to go check it out

Maybe throw a ball at the furry

“Go fetch!” You shouted at fundy

Yeah he was not happy and just threw you the finger

“Hey N/n is Dream coming?”

You were excited that Tubbo was actually talking to you again

“Huh? Oh yeah I think” “Great thanks”

And back to the disappointment

So you walked over to get a pretzel or some shit

And then heard everyone making a commotion

There he was, Dream walking in (angry) with full netherite armor

Damn dude respect some tradition

“Tommy blew up the fucking community house”

Did someone say tommy?

Oh you were ready to kill that bastard

Hell if Dream didn’t you most definitely will

So you followed everyone to the community house

Yeah you were ready to fucking cry

One of your homes, the place you’d always confide in since you were little

Where dream and George both helped raise you

Now blown to shreds

“What the fuck”

They were talking about Tubbo giving up the discs

Oh we are not going through that shit all over again

And this time the odds are most definitely not in your favor

Then tommy appeared half invisible

“YOU FUCKING DICKHEAD I THOUGHT YOU DIED YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT”

You litterly stabbed him, having to be held back by Quackity

“Alright hot shot, lets let them have their argument”

Tommy sent you an apologetic look already on the verge of tears

“Tubbo your not seriously considering this”

Then it hit everyone

“The discs were worth more then you ever were!”

Oh yeah we’re you already pissed off at tommy?

Yeah

And he just made it worse

“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY TO TUBBO YOU SHIT HEAD”

Yeah you didn’t take pretending to be dead very lightly

Oh shit why was techno there

never mind, Lmanburg will be gone by tomorrow

No point killing tommy yet

Whos side were you on?

Neither. You litterly went into that battle feild and killed some shit

That was until multiple pieces of tnt landed ontop of your head

And that’s where you lost your second life

Shit

𝐘/𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 ♡︎♡︎♥︎ ⚠︎︎ᴏɴᴇ ʟɪғᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴɪɴɢ

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐬𝗼𝐧

This time when you won’t up it didn’t feel as bad

But you still screamed

A rush of a heartburn and scars employed on your body

The second line now faded into one

Shit

You were only 16-17 and on one life??

Die young the better

You waited out in your bed until the end of the fight

Death alerts and messages drowning out your communicator

But you had no energy what so ever

Until it all went quiet

You tried your damn best to get out of bed and walked to the damaged Lmanburg

There were people crying

Others were severely hurt

Then there were those who were perfectly fine

The whole place was a crater

Lmanburg.. the place of agony and depths of your pain

Now it’s finally gone

What the hell are you gonna do now?

Quackity spotted you calling out for Sapnap

You felt like you were gonna be crushed under their hold

“I’m gonna fucking kill dream.” You heard Quackity mutter

Sapnap felt like a bad father

Who lets their kids die twice?

(Cough cough Wilbur and dream)

Then suddenly things switched around

You were walking around with a bloodied nose and black eyed Tommy

Yeah you did a number on him

But it’s okay since he was your best friend

And there was a sign inside his house

“Wednesday you and Tubbo. Bring no one or anything, lets settle this once and for all”

The final disc war

“Tommy you can’t go” “I’m going N/n, he has my discs.”

So you like cried a little bit lined up on the prime path

Giving the two probably the last hugs they’ll ever get

Prime you really didn’t want to loose them

So you ran straight to church prime

Litterly begging Master Oolong that they won’t die

“Please please please spare them. Pogchamp.”

(Please this is all jokes and old references don’t cancel me)

You got a blast message from punz on your comms with cords

“Come here. bring your best armor”

So you did so running to the nearest ender chest

If walking means saving tommy and Tubbo, it’s somewhat worth it

Sapnap made sure you didn’t leave his side as you traveled around the nether

even tho you could literally swim in the lava

So just to piss him off

You jumped in

The sigh of relief this man

Yeah he’s gotten a little more paranoid for you

But it’s okay since it’s in love

You looked around the weird black stone room

There were two giant photos of the discs

And everything was made out of the same material

No design what so ever

Tommy and Tubbo ran to you like you were gonna protect them

“Dream why” you asked as he was incased in the blocks

Down on his last life

Just like you

‘I’m sorry’ he mouthed to you

Why was he apologizing to you?

Hasn’t he hurt everyone here

You looked around the different items

Tracing the outline of the item frames

Gasping in shock as you a cage with your name on it next to badboyhalo

“Tell em what you told me! How you blew up the community house!”

Your neck spun around faster then an owl doing that 360 thing

You picked up your ace seriously read to slash his head off

“Wait wait! Lets put him in the prison.”

So they took him off

And it pained you to see it

You trusted that man for a very long time

Nothing stays the same on the Dream Smp

•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰•⊱✿•✿⊰

TUMBLR WOULDNT LET ME WRITE MORE KMS. So yes I’m sorry but there will have to be a part FOUR. I just wanted to finish this-

As always! Ask or request anything and ask if you want to be on a tag list :))

[jiminrings]

what happened to mc after that?? JUNGKOOK I WILL WHOOP YO FUCKING ASS

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

the aftermath of stem koo breaking senior!y/n's heart

"do you need anything from us?"

yoongi asks you for the fifth time in the twenty minutes you've been home, heart breaking from the inside out when you haven't moved a single inch

he is begging that the thing you need from him and jin is to go beat j*ngkook up

HE CAN'T EVEN SAY HIS NAME WITHOUT BEING ANGRY AT HIM!!!!!!!

anything. anything to atleast make you sleep in peace tonight.

or them honestly,, either way

your body's facing the backrest of the couch and maybe that's for the better, because that way, seokjin won't feel the need to cry looking at the coldest person he's known to be openly vulnerable

you're still wearing your jersey!!! your stained dirty jersey that you've been in for the past three hours and the reason that it's still wet was that you've been using it to wipe your tears all the way to the dorm

"no. i'll be alright."

you mumble for the fifth time out of the five times you've been asked, and yoongi just has to grapple at his fist because he knows that being frustrated wouldn't help

you are the fURTHEST thing from okay

to be honest, it was only a miracle that you told the two of them what happened in the first place

it was in between sobs that you asked them why they were friends with you and they couldn't be anymore dumbfounded

it was in between violent tears that you mentioned hyeji that seokjin looked for a box of tissues because you've been intentionally rubbing your eyes raw

it was in between heaving that you said that no one wants to go the extra mile for me that yoongi started holding your cheeks and trying to get you to breathe with him in his panic too

it was in between hiccups that you uttered that no one wants to walk me home and that's when both of yoongi's and seokjin's throats started tightening, the dots hazy yet aligning nonetheless

it was in silence when you told that jungkook said that no one likes me, and that's when out of the three of you in the room – you're the one who's the calmest.

"okay. i'll bring you a blanket."

yoongi leaves it at that, standing from his spot on the floor to walk over to the kitchen where the blankets cLEARLY aren't there

no one really prepared yoongs for this

no one really is

there isn't a manual on how to act when the dearest friend that you have is crying their guts out for the first time

he can't explain his close bond with you and he's always seen you as his platonic girlfriend!!! his platonic girlfriend who has a bond with him that's closer than a sister's, more understanding than a mother's, and the utter admiration more than a friend's

you r literally yoongi's (platonic) soulmate and he would die on that hill

he would rather subject himself to torture via having to stay in a freshman's dorm equipped with the de facto led strip lights everyday!!! every single day, than to see you like this :(((

"what do you have on the bitch?" yoongi doesn't spare his words when he sits on the kitchen stool next to jin's figure

the dude is sTANDING and that means business

jin doesn't feel a single ounce of regret fetching his work laptop and scrolling through the files and tabs he has on every single student on campus, eyes only looking for one lee hyeji that's contributed to your anguish rn

jungkook is atleast 3/4 in this equation and seokjin will get to him of course

no one makes his emotional support best friend cry and nOT pay the consequences for it!!!!

in another life, vincenzo cassano's character is based on seokjin and the events in his life that definitely happened >:(

"she's daddy's money. can't fucking believe that sHE'S representing the school," he sighs in genuine annoyance, but not loud enough to pique your attention as he turns the screen so yoongi could clearly see her headshots, "must be a diversity hire. every university needs a fucking bimbo, apparently."

you see,,, yoongi would've SNORTED at that but now is not the time!!! he is still planning discreet retribution to avenge you!!!!

jin lets yoongi look at hyeji's entire file, wanting to get even the smallest bits even if the information he's taking in is against his will

he'll immediately delete whatever he learns about her right after it's served its purpose

"just messaged the faculty groupchat," seokjin himself didn't imagine the words coming out from his lips determinedly, but he knows that he's willing to do anything for the sake of this, "been crushing on jeon ever since the start of last semester. philosophy professor thinks it's because he once saw jungkook lending her a pen when they were in the topic of soulmates."

jesus christ

now THAT'S just annoying ://

this

whatever this is

seokjin and yoongi don't know what they're digging all this information for

they don't know what this unspoken plan is for, or if they even have a plan in the first place

if jin were to tell the faculty gc about this???

absolute mayhem

but he knows for a fact that they'd hate star student jungkook easily within a tap of a finger

the philosophy prof would lose all sense of rationality and reasoning and INSTANTLY point to jungkook as an asshole!!! no questions asked!!!! no elaborations!!!!

"i could get jeon eliminated from all the academic listings he's in."

jin pipes in at the silence that he and yoongi share, both listless in this situation that they never expected to encounter with you

"i could always spread a rumor and make him unlikeable."

yoongi toys with the rings that he wears, a heavy exhale tearing away from him

they could think of a thousand other ways to get back at jungkook!!! they literally can

seokjin knows a contract guy who leaves shredded paper with his contract's initials written on red ink (for a base fee of three dollars, he can switch up the ink for you!!!) right next to their side on the bed

yoongi knows a guy whose modus operandi is to discreetly follow people, have subliminals playing in the background (for an extra fee of ten dollars, he'll use wireless bass-boosted speakers), and continue doing so until the desired message is achieved!!!!

none of the people they have connections to could employ the same amount of pain he's caused on you

there's literally nothing that could hit home with jungkook besides you.

but there's no way to do that and even in your state of anger and sadness tHEN utter vulnerability, you can't even really think of hurting jungkook in the way he did

because you know and yoongi knows and seokjin knows and everyone knows that you aren't the type to wish ill

you admit that sometimes you're unavailable but you don't want that to be an asshole-reason to make everyone else around you suffer in the same way you do

the people around you aren't your shock absorbers!!!! that's why you hang out a teddy bear on your doorknob when you're mad so that neither yoongi or jin would have the possibility to be caught in your rage

that's why you call for a break when your soccer team is out of their game and make everyone drink their electrolytes before they speak to you!!!!

that's why you have the old heart of your even older build-a-bear stuffie in your pocket, one of the only reminders that your childhood even happened, one that you'd squeeze between your fingers in any remotely anxious instances that you find yourself in

jungkook's words hit home and it put you into a spiral if you even had one in the first place

your parents divorced when you were young and it's just that,,, no one from the two of them wanted you because you were the reminder of the other parent

you're a place marker for when a commitment started and ended and god did it make you grow up quickly

your aunt raised you!!!! she's an angel and she's the maternal figure in your life that you'd always be grateful for

you love her all the same and as much as you didn't wanna relate yourself to your parents in the same way that they don't, the feelings of being unliked hit you ever so often

lol it's quite a dashing mindset you have but you can't see any other interpretation you should employ

you leave before they could leave you.

it's not really as dramatic as it sounds

BUT IT COULD BE

there's always obligatory groupchats for projects and you're the first one to leave it instead of awkwardly waiting out for the conversation to dwindle and then leave one by one

when you and yoongi argue, you leave before he attempts to get the last word in

when jin is about to ask if you want to split the bill, you're already putting more than half of your share on the table

it's a nagging feeling of not wanting be unwanted in every situation you're in, but you aren't all that sure of wHAT you'd do to be liked

the only thing you could think of are lunchboxes, and even that gets taken away from you.

does no one really like you??

you're shifting in your position before you know it and the lone sound makes jin and yoongs come to your side immediately, looking at you in concern

you're looking up and you could just fEEL your eyes are puffy and even the light's hurting them

"i need to sleep."

"o-oh! m'kay, sure. i'll carry you to bed, let's go," seokjin wastes no time in responding, about to hook his arms underneath you when you repeat yourself again

you only chuckle but it's the driest and most painful they've ever heard, wincing when they can hear how breathless it was

"no. i mean i need to sleep."

jin blinks once

yoongi blinks twice

OH

right

they get it now

you don't want to sleep, and you really can't, but you need it

"i'll get it!!" jin volunteers to grab what you need, leaving yoongi with you

oh god you could fEEL that he's going to cry

what a big baby ://

seokjin comes bearing the joint :D

he's about to light it for you because he knows that three specific short hits would lull you to slumber then knock you out cold for like a day lmao

he minored in chemistry actually but he cAN'T explain shit on why that's your body's reaction

you're all-good for literally anything besides three short hits lmao

yoongi was about to scold jin because he lights it and tHEN he's the one who takes the first drag, but there's an assuring wave of his hand

how romantic

jin just blew you a heart

<3

they can't get anything from you besides the slight crinkling from your eyes but they don't mind at all — your eyes are atleast one degree less sad

you take your turn and even pass it to yoongi but he rEFUSES,,,,, not the least bit dejected that he decided not to because he wants to watch over you instead and not see every inanimate object with cartoon eyes on them while watching over you

"bake her a cookie if in case she suddenly gets hungry in the middle of her sleep. sneak a carrot in it or something," jin reminds yoongi and he's sERIOUS about the recipe, holding you in tow as he makes the way to your room

yoongi's about to break out the bowls, freezing in his steps when he hears the doorbell frantically ring

oh god

the ONE time that they didn't plug the door with a wet towel and now it's probably the hall manager outside about to do an inspection

that is not..... the hall monitor

that is a fucking asshole

jungkook's been pacing on his heels, his knocking loud enough to wake up the entire hallway at this point

he's SWEATING and he's not even wearing his hoodie

the door finally opens and the words start tumbling out of his mouth

"good evening. i-i wanna explain myself and-..."

that is not,,,,, you

it's his senior that he's disrespected probably too many times

yoongi leans to the door, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face that the junior's never seen before

"you ever had a sandwich before, jungkook?"

"w-what?"

the younger boy stammers, his eyes following yoongi's actions of looking behind him out of worry and then going outside to join him by closing the door softly without noise

yoongi only snorts, not even sure if he's up for conversation

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

"the one that's all knuckle?"

[darthwheezely]

grande - g.w.

Summary: George meets a mighty adorable barista in the new cafe on Diagon Alley and the man just can’t help himself... based off the song Coffee Girl by Johnny Socko! Sorry this took me absolute ages (9 days oops) to get out, guys :/

Warnings: DIABETIC FLUFF STUPID AMOUNTS OF CARDIAC ARREST INDUCING FLUFF UWU,mentions of sexism, Fred being Fred, cussing probably, alludes to sex, PG/PG-13

taglist or people that might like this but idk: @theweasleyslut @kitwalker02 @loony-loopy-lupinn @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @thehufflepuffwife @monoscandal @lupinsclassroom @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @rogueweasleys @band--psycho @lumosandnoxwriting @oh-for-merlins-sake @amxrtentias @virgohufflepuff @vivianweasley

George Weasley didn’t sleep. This had long been the habit of his ever since he and his parents had discovered that his elder twin Fred had been an avid sleepwalker by age 4, then became a (minor) party animal in his Hogwarts days, and finally when he became the co-owner of one of the Wizard World’s most successful entrepreneurs and business owners.

The man hadn’t slept in about 18 years give or take. And days like this reminded him of it constantly.

It was a Saturday, the first of the month, and to boot, it was about to be Christmas in a little over a week. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was packed with everyone from couples window shopping, children in desperate need of fun now that school was out, parents trying to keep them in line, and even some old lady named Ethel (who swore she was part Veela, and therefore Fred couldn’t “escape her girlish charm.”)

“Ethel, you have an absolutely ravishing day, and don’t even worry about that moisturizer it’d be a waste of product on a natural beauty like you” Fred winked and kissed the old lady’s hand, George watching from the top of the steps rolling his eyes.

“Oh, Freddie, you know how to keep a lady young, don’t you? Oh - goodbye, Georgie! Have a good rest of your day boys!” She waved majestically to the younger twin on the stairs and he bowed royally in response.

“Bye, Ethel!” They both called as she exited the building, the bells flurrying in her wake.

“Georgie, mate, hate to say it but you are being uncharacteristically quiet and it’s making me uncharacteristically uncomfortable.” Fred said bounding up the stairs to meet him, chuckling briefly.

“Freddie, mate, hate to say it but I’ve had absolutely no sleep as of late and it’s getting to me. But I’ll be back up to my usual antics in no time.” He padded down the stairs, winking at a couple young ladies ogling him, sending them into a fit of giggles. Fred sat down on the middle step eyeing his brother carefully. It didn’t take a genius to see George wasn’t holding on much longer, the dark circles littering his eyes and the way he mussed up his already purposely messy hair just...didn’t comfort his older twin at all.

“George.” Fred sighed, George looking back at him, confused. He took his hands away from the merchandise Wonder Witch he’d been rearranging and gave him full attention.

“Take your lunch break early. And longer if possible.”

“Pffft, why would I do that when I have women to woo and boxes to juggle?”

“George.”

“Fred.”

“Stop, I mean it. You look half dead as it is, just go take a nap or get an espresso from the cafe down the aisle or something that reinforces the idea that yes, you are a human being and no, not a zombie.” Fred crossed his arms feeling suddenly a lot like Molly and dropped the cross. George pretended to ponder this tapping his chin, rather finding the mature brother role reversal funny as hell.

“Oh, alright, but can I still be a zombie when I get back?”

Fred hit him with a folder and sent him on his way.

-•-•-

You had just finished the lunch rush, finally being able to calm down and not have to worry about making one more goddamn Butterbeer Latte for at least another 20 or so minutes...until there’d be another rush. You grabbed a lemon scone, took off your apron and sat against the back counter. You inhaled the citrus scent, it was always something that you loved to savor, and took a bite.

The holidays for the Merlin’s Mochas, the cafe, had been absolutely atrocious so far. All you had for customers were angry businessmen, bratty kids and their upper class parents who let them run around the already small place being rude to everyone, your boss Lionel who had an affinity for calling every woman who worked there a “bitch” (...ok lionel) and to top it all off: you’d been pulling 9 hour days every day except sundays. Needless to say: you kind of super hated your job.

You had just finished your scone when you heard the door chime signal a customer, immediately wiping your hands on your jeans and restrapping your apron.

“Hi how can I-“ oh Jesus this is the hottest man I have ever seen. He was easily no older than 23, fiery red hair, a perfectly tailored striped terracotta suit, green tie, and the most gorgeous doe brown eyes you’d ever seen.

“How can you...?”

“Help you, ohmygod, I am so sorry I’m super-“

“Tired? Yeah me too...interesting how similar we are this early in the game hmm?” He winked at you and your knees felt too weak. No he was just a stupid hot customer that also was really hot and also? Was super hot. No worries, Y/N, just don’t die by 22 okay thanks.

“Very funny...wait are you-“ your finger led from him to the statue outside Wizard Wheezes, realizing a simple oh shit

“Yeah, that would be me. Or my twin Fred but we never really decided, that’s why he kind of looks like both of us mixed. Although we’re twins so we basically look the same anyway. I mean because were identical. Twins, yeah.” George, what the fuck is wrong with you, why are you sweating? She’s just a simply beautiful girl in a simply maddeningly purple coffee shop can you please breathe and not make yourself look stupid-

“Oh, wow! I’ve never met a twin before - not like twins are anomalies or anything it’s just so crazy. Science. Science is crazy” You closed your eyes and took a breath

“We should probably start over shouldn’t we?” You wrinkled your nose.

“That sounds much more redeeming than anything we both were about to say” George breathed out laughing softly, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“I’m George. Weasley. Like I said, I work at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, the shop over there, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place before...or you for that matter, I never forget a beautiful young woman.” He said smoothly, his heart steadily subsiding - something about you had the power to not only make him scared out of his mind, but also totally at ease.

You returned the smile, warmly, the blood rushing to your cheeks at his compliment and sticking your tongue to your teeth. “Well, George Weasley, of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes I’m Y/N Y/L/N. And yeah, we’re new around here,” you leaned further onto the counter, realizing, albeit a moment too late that your eye level was directly with his abs now, and although he was wearing a suit...you could definitely tell they were there.

“We erm, just opened three months ago. It’s honestly a bit of a time to work here.”

“Oh and why is that?”

“Well, nothing like a blatant sexist to run an entirely female employed establishment and weird stuffy rich people.” Your eyes widened suddenly, and you felt like you had said far too much far too soon. But he gasp-laughed - laugh that ended as soon as it began and burst into a smile...like you had shared a secret with him.

“What the hell is he doing here then? Got a boy’s club to run in a purple coffee shop?”

“I mean you never really know these days, George, imposters are among us at every moment” you purred and pushed off the counter, meaning it as a joke but George’s heart screamed when he heard your name. As you moved to the other edge of the counter, he followed you.

“What a resourceful and cruel young woman, I am starting to like you, Miss Y/L/N.” He clucked. “And do you think of me like you think of Mr. I-Hate-Women-That’s-Why-I-Hire-Them?” He got inches from your face, smelling the coffee beans and vanilla extract that riddled your skin.

“Hmm...Mr. Weasley, I’m not so sure.” You coyly stepped away from him and took long strides to the far end of the coffee bar by the wall. George immediately felt a pit of flirtatious butterflies and (arousal?) something more in his stomach, jaw dropped, he followed you again. He pressed his hands to the counter in front of you.

“Well, how can I convince you?” He asked rather quickly.

“Hmm...” you leaned forward like he did before and his breath hitched in his throat “...let’s get you a cuppa first.”

-•-

“Wait, okay let me get this straight-“

“Yes?”

“You have 6 other siblings.”

“Yes.”

“...because your mom wanted a girl?”

“That-that would in fact be true, yes.”

You thought for a moment.

“So you’re telling me after she made it through you two-“

“-she still wanted to have more of us, believe me, it races through my mind daily.” He nodded vehemently laughing with you. You two had taken to the empty cafe at a table nestled in the corner, him sitting in a chair across from you on a bench. You had both been cracking each other up with stories from your childhoods, like how you both had managed to never know of the other’s existence until now.

He’d discovered that you had transferred from Hogwarts to Beauxbatons early on in your fourth year. You, a Hufflepuff, loved the quiet and soft landscape of the French school. You both had absolutely no idea the other existed. How? The world may never know.

He was brash. You were careful.

He was already flying when you were just feeling comfortable learning how to walk.

But you sat there with him for the better amount of an hour and a half, laughing and interrupting each other with memories of the school years you had, some weird and strange, and especially during fourth year, hard for George to talk about.

Ginny, his baby sister, had almost died. And as he said to you in a candid and highly vulnerable state: he blamed himself for almost letting her go to this day.

“I...I really do believe it was my fault.”

“George, it couldn’t have been your fault. Hogwarts is a big freaking death trap - you and I both know that,” you had said with an exasperated laugh, eager to make him feel better in any facet.

“Yeah, but...I’m her big brother. Yes, she has five other older brothers but...we were supposed to protect her.” He swallowed and blinked back tears. “It was her first year, for Christ’s sake, and I paid about as much attention to her as a doorknob would.” He had rolled his jaw and taken a gulp of his gingerbread latte (you had said it was your favorite, and he was loathe to try anything else) and you had softly draped your hand on top of his.

“If she’s as kind and loving and funny as you, I’d love to meet her.” You quipped, a small smile growing on your face in effort to soothe. He had smiled back at you, turning your hand over in his and drawing his digits lazily over your palm.

“Funny, because I was thinking the same thing.”

-•-

He had told you to close your eyes, that much had been true.

See, his coffee had started to get cold. So, like if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll have to have some milk-

If you give a George a latte he will have to not only have another one, but also feel the strenuous need to show off for you and take you to his place of work. Naturally. And it was so lucky that by the time he’d proposed you leave, he even helped you clean and lock up afterwards.

Truthfully, it almost scared you how much he had seemed to care.

“Alright, Y/N, darling, I’m going to release my hands on the count of three, yeah?”

“Perfect, Georgie” you giggled. You’d legitimately only knew him for so long, but you just...you trusted him. He grinned widely, his strong hands only applying a slight amount of pressure as not to hurt you.

“Alright, then. 1. 2-“ he took his hands off your eyes and watched you adjust not only to light, but to your surroundings as well.

“3.” He breathed out taking in the way you smiled like a teenager, face alight with pure inundating wonder. You squealed and started to run around the store.

“Look at these! Pygmy Puffs - ugh they’re so adorable look at this one! Oh, oh - ‘Fizzing Whizbees’ - these look absolutely wicked! And Per- ‘Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder’?” You picked up the glittery stone in your hand, and heard a smooth voice perk up behind you.

“A real money spinner, that one.” You turned around and there was a man that looked absolutely identical to George, although entirely different in the same way.

“Handy if you need to make a quick getaway,” you heard George on the other side of you. He smiled warmly down at you, nodding his head up to look at the twin across from him.

“Y/N, this is my-“

“-older, much more attractive and fiscally responsible brother.” He winked and you blushed almost immediately. “Fred. Weasley.”

“Y/N Y/L/N. Georgie has told me a lot about you and the shop - absolutely marvelous this place is, I cant believe you two created so much in such a short span of time. Brilliant it all is, really!” George had started to flush, rubbing his jaw to seemingly take the red away from his striking face. Fred, upon hearing the genuine warmth from your voice and the unmistakable use of “Georgie” had a small, but highly distinct aha moment:

“Well, we couldn’t have done it all on our own, one of our best friends helped us out a good lot. But thank you, really...it means so much when other people see how much we do and-” he looked directly at George.

“-acknowledge the things we love, right George?”

“Absolutely, Frederick.” Fred had given him the look that seemed to imply: “please, God, make a damn move.”

“Well, Y/N, I’m going to be off and woo some ladies, have a biscuit and do some paperwork” he smiled wide when you giggled, already enjoying your company.

“But I hope to see you again, very soon, yeah? Please stop by whenever you can, we’re alwYs just down the street.”

“Freddie, for your company, I’m not so sure, I’m still deciding.” You quipped. Fred laughed heartily at that and looked at George.

“Georgie, I like this one.” George looked at you and winked.

“Me, too Freddie, me too.” You leaned back on your heels as Fred padded back up the stairs to the flat, now completely alone with George. You threw your arms behind you back and forth and took a long stride to George.

“So...what are you those?” You nodded up to the array of pink bubbles in a clam shape in the corner. He hummed and reached to grab your hand.

“Love potions - c-can I show you?” He raised an eyebrow slightly, but he felt his whole body turn to mush when you accepted his hand and nodded slowly. As he walked with you, you memorized the feeling of his callouses and veins, the way your hand curled deliberately in his.

You wanted to make sure if it was the last time you felt something like that, you had that memory with you for a while.

“Essentially, if you give these to a person they will temporarily have feelings of love and attraction for you. Depending of course on the dosage you use and the weight of the person in question.” He explained. You watched the way his suit jacket pulled taut against his back muscles and instinctively wanted to honestly just take the whole thing off-

“Hmm...I don’t know about these, Georgie.” You hummed mischievously. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

He scoffed placing a dramatic hand over his heart. “Am i being questioned in my own establishment, Miss Y/L/N?”

You rolled your eyes and hit his arm, bowing slightly at him. “Well, do forgive my feminine insolence, Mr. Weasley, it’s not often I meet such bewitching mad scientists like you.” You watched his face grow blank for a moment at your compliment and immediately wanted to throw up.

“George, I’m really sorry, I know we just became friends-“

“Do you mean it?” He took a step towards you. You swallowed finding again his perfect milk chocolate eyes. You nodded.

“Hell yeah I did, you’re smart...and wicked hot” you both laughed at that. He took another step, the distance being unbearably harder to live in as his digits found a piece of hair and wound it behind your ear.

“Well, darling, the feeling is quite mutual.” He said quietly, taking in the whole of your face. He wanted to crash his lips onto every possible nook and crevice of your face, collide with you entirely.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, then, aren’t we?” You gently nudged his nose with yours and wrapped your arms around his neck, his strong and powerful arms pulling you to him gently. He wanted you to feel him not to break under his embrace. He leaned down and brushed his lips up to yours, feeling you whine and let out a minuscule sound.

“Got you making noises for me already and haven’t even kissed you yet, hmm?”

Your eyes fluttered close and one of your legs made it’s way in between his, snapping any chance at loose air between you two out of the way.

“Please, Weasley, pants a bit small for you?”

“Keep talking like that and they might, yeah.” You two laughed softly and with a final look to your lips he closed the last gap.

His mouth was perfect. His lips ghosted over yours one last time before wrapping every part of himself onto your frame, your lips entangled in each other like you’d never be able to taste him again.

But it was loving and slow and sweet. He tasted like gingerbread lattes and pastries and cinnamon and licking into his mouth you could feel the spice. He moaned lightly into your mouth, sending your knees buckling. He dipped you slightly, a hand traveling to your lower back to keep you steady, and his other hand coming up to nestle under the nape of your hair. Your hands caressed his face, his chest, needless to say? You wanted them everywhere. You wanted him everywhere.

The kiss broke and you and George were left breathless in each other’s hold, your foreheads pressed together as he kept you slightly dipped.

“Y/N, I’m feeling a bit tired” he quipped hoarsely, pressing a brief kiss to your lips and onto your neck. You hummed satisfactorily.

“Georgie, you’re gonna need another latte aren’t you?” You set multiple chaste kisses to his lips and cheeks, feeling him rumble with a small giggle. He caught your mouth with his and you moaned slightly.

“I’m gonna need a whole pot, to drink you in, love.”

[janetbrown711]

"Don't you think you've done enough?"

Wakko was angry.

Very, very angry.

He thought Dot was on his side- but she was easily swayed by that dumb doctor.

Ooh, that doctor made his blood boil. He suggested talking to Yakko, but that wasn't going to work because he was hypnotized by Max. Scratchnsniff didn't understand- he couldn't possibly understand what it was like to watch a brother who swore he'd die for you just... abandon you out of nowhere.

He thought his mother would understand too, but it seemed she was fooled too, wanting him to give Max a shot. Yeah right- would she suggest he "just give Grandma a shot?". No. It was clear she was underestimating Max's control of Yakko. He wasn't just "a little carried away". He was hypnotized- he had to be.

If he wasn't, then...

If Dot and his mom wanted to give up on him, fine. He could save Yakko all on his own. He had the brains. He'd just have to go a little bit further this time- to make sure Max would never want to come back ever again. He had to make sure Max knew he wasn't welcome and do it in a sneakier way so he wouldn't get caught this time.

Wakko was going to lock Max in the tower.

And he knew just how he'd do it.

He had already stolen the key, though his paranoia made him check to see if the door had been blocked up constantly. however- he even took a step beyond, making sure a key similar enough replaced it, to assure no one would notice it was gone.

As far as getting Max there, he knew he wasn't strong enough or tall enough to drag or force him to the tower, so he'd have to make him want go up there himself. Going off of his mom's "advice", he figured he'd just say that he wanted to talk with him alone in a letter or note or something, which was easy enough. The hard part would be getting it to Max without being seen. He didn't have time to send it in the mail, as he was visiting the very next day.

So that meant he'd just have to wait for an opportune moment when the day arrived.

Which he did.

He ate breakfast just with Dot, apparently, his parents and Yakko had gotten up earlier and were busy this morning- which he was fine with. He wasn't exactly feeling chatty, though Dot kept giving him looks which he ignored.

If she knew anything, she didn't say, so Wakko moved on with his day.

When Max arrived at Warnerstock castle, it went much like it did the first time: with Max only giving them side glances but otherwise ignoring their existences and running off with Yakko. What made it different though was Dot going with their parents and goofy, leaving Wakko by himself to enact his plan.

Normally he would've felt offended at such an exclusion but he needed to enact his plan somehow, and he had already set up a room with art supplies to help distract him while he waited for them to break for lunch before he could plant his note.

Thankfully, the hours passed rather quickly, and Wakko was able to make his move. Hurriedly, he ran into the room Yakko and Max always hung out in and placed the note carefully in Max's satchel (he always brought one to bring gifts for Yakko from Disneyland or something like that according to the letters) before running with all his might to the tower, unlocking the first door and climbing up the fifty feet to the top, unlocking that heavy iron door, and slowly and painfully pulling it open and hiding behind, hoping Max wouldn't be suspicious of it being open when he arrived.

Unlike before though, it was a very, very long time before he heard Max at the bottom of the tower. With each step Max took, Wakko's heart raced more and more as he gripped the key in his hands tighter.

He had to do this. He had to make Max hate him- hate all of them. He had to make Max know he wasn't welcome- that he couldn't get away with separating his siblings.

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

By the time Max reached the top, Wakko's heart was racing, and he kept a hand over his mouth to make sure his breath was silent. He made sure Max was deep into the dark and dusty room before Wakko pushed the heavy door shut with all his might, scrambling to lock it and scurrying down the stairs as fast as he could- ignoring Max's shouts and questions as he pounded against the iron door.

Max was a bad person. He was trying to take Yakko away from him.

As he scrambled down, his mind was flooded with memories.

Dot's cries, the ache in his ears, the horror as he looked down, the banging of his head against the floor, the slamming of the iron door, the hopelessness-

Max was a bad person. He deserved this.

Wakko ran faster, closing his eyes best he could in a poor attempt to suppress the memories. He almost kissed the ground when he reached the bottom, but he didn't waste his time, running out and locking the door as fast as possible before running all the way to his room and laying down in his bed and burying his head under his pillow in hopes his breathing and heart would calm eventually.

However, his head throbbed as the memories he was trying so desperately to swallow surfaced once more.

"Let go of him!" Dot had shouted, pulling on Angelina's dress- and before Wakko knew it, his grandmother's grip was tight around his neck as he felt himself dangling off the ledge. He shouldn't have looked down, but he did.

Dear god- he was going to die.

"Shout at me again young lady, and I will," Angelina threatened, her grip around his neck tightening.

"Wait- please! Don't hurt him-!" Dot got on her knees and begged, tears streaming down her face as she made eye contact with him.

Dear god he wished he was a lot braver.

"Go back downstairs, Angelina. You've done enough today," Angelina spat on Dot's face. It filled Wakko with rage, but he couldn't fight back. He saw Dot's look of defeat as she lowered her head.

"Good girl," That bitch of a grandmother said, and Wakko felt a return to the ground. He immediately went to go hug Dot, but she grabbed his arm and forced him away from his sobbing little sister before tossing him in that disgusting and dark prison.

"How long do you plan to leave me in here, huh?!" He had shouted, his voice betraying him and cracking as tears filled his eyes. He pounded against the door demanding a response, but the only response he got was mumbles from his grandmother, and a yelp of pain from Dot.

He continued to pound his fists against the door with everything he had in him for hours on end. He had to make her suffer- she couldn't get away with this. She couldn't just hurt his siblings like that- she needed to pay.

By the end his hands were bruised and bloody and his voice practically vanished due to the shouting. Eventually- he just gave up, hugging his knees as he begged for this nightmare to end, somehow.

Angelina the First was a fucking monster.

...was Max really the same?

O-of course he was. He was taking Yakko away from him- from him AND Dot. Angelina did that too. She knew they were weaker seperated and always divided them, and Max knows the same.

Sure Angelina never made Yakko happy ever... but that meant Max was just more of a threat, right? His techniques were new- Yakko didn't know how to protect himself against them. Wakko was just doing what he had to to protect his sibs.

Wakko was doing what he had to.

Time passed- a lot of it. Eventually someone came into his room, and Wakko buried himself under his blanket, clutching the key as tight as he could, hoping they'd just assume he was asleep.

"Wak, have you seen-? Oh-" It was Yakko, embarrassed that he "interrupted Wakko's nap".

"Sorry- I'll just-... have a nice nap," Yakko apologized and left.

See? His plan was already working.

...Right?

God, would the pounding in his chest ever stop???

He was just doing what he had to.

Just what he had to.

.o0o.

More time passed, though Wakko couldn't be sure how much. All he knew was that Yakko had begun to worry, seriously searching through every room in the castle (as Wakko could hear from the door slams). He didn't check on Wakko again, but there were a few close calls. Eventually, Yakko must've employed his parents help though, as he soon started hearing them begin to search too.

It dawned on Wakko that perhaps he should've forged a note from Max that said he ran away or something- that would've prevented the searches and made Yakko hate Max too.

Oh well- hindsight and all that.

The pounding in his chest never stopped.

Eventually, he heard his door creak open slowly as he quickly tried to pretend he was still sleeping, but Dot wasn't easily fooled, as she climbed onto his bed and shook his shoulder, pulling back the blanket.

"Max is missing and mom told me to get you to help search. If you have anything to do with this- I swear-" Dot's eyes fell onto the key in Wakko's hands.

"...You didn't-" Dot's eyes widened. Wakko nearly jumped off the bed.

"I-it's not what you think-!" Wakko fumbled in shock, but Dot took the opportunity and snatched the key from his hand and ran out of the room, and after Wakko processed what happened, he chased after.

"Dot give it back!" Wakko shouted at her.

"No! His dad is looking for him and Yakko is really upset! I won't let you keep him there!" Dot shouted back.

"You're just brainwashed! He's manipulating you- just like grandma!" Wakko disputed.

"No he isn't Wakko!" Dot contended. "You're the only one who thinks that!"

"I'm just doing what I have to to protect Yakko! Yakko would never have left us before Max arrived- why can't you see that?!" He argued back.

Eventually, Dot slowed and sighed.

"Max is nothing like Grandma- he's pretty cool and is nice and has a nice dad and Yakko really cares about him. He doesn't deserve to be locked in there- just like how you didn't," Dot's grip on the key tightened.

"Locked in where?"

To Wakko's horror, Yakko and Lena weren't too far away.

Neither sibling responded, As Dot gripped the key tighter. However, she didn't hide it, and eventually Lena noticed, her face mortified with recognition.

She looked at Wakko a moment, before shaking her head and taking the key, hurriedly walking toward the tower.

"Locked where? Where does that key go?" Yakko asked innocently as he followed along- he was the only one of the four who hadn't seen it before.

Dot and Wakko decided to follow too, despite the dread that filled both of them with every step (though Dot's was more of empathy than of direct guilt).

However, Yakko was clever, and eventually he recognized the halls.

He grabbed the key from his mother's hand and bolted to the tower, unlocking the door as fast as he could, and running up the stairs at least 3 at a time.

Lena, Dot and Wakko stayed at the bottom silently.

Eventually, the heavy iron door creaked open, and Max was released- the pair making their way down slowly. Wakko didn't hear a word either of them said- the pounding in his head louder than ever as he suppressed tears.

However, when he reached the bottom, he made eye contact with Max.

He didn't... seem mad. Just tired.

"Max, please give your father our sincerest apologies. We're terribly sorry this happened- if there's anything we can do to make up for it, please let us know," Lena apologized.

"Yeah, okay," Max shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Likely the grand foyer with William- Yakko, would you-?"

"No, I can walk myself." Max interrupted, giving a quick nod to each of them before walking out, leaving everyone frozen as he walked away.

Shit.

His plan worked, but he still felt like crap. Why??? Max was bad. He tried to seperate- he was bad. He-

"Wakko- what the fuck was that?!" Yakko's face was full of tears as he grabbed his brother's collar.

"Yakko- let go of your brother. Now." Lena ordered.

"No- what the fuck?! First, you try to ruin our hang outs, then you read my letters, and then you lock him in the prison our grandmother threw you in and left you to starve??? What is wrong with you?!" Yakko demanded.

"Yakko, I said now." Lena broke them apart.

"Y-you were so blinded by him-!"

"Because I like him, Wakko! He's a good guy!!!"

"He was trying to take you away!!!"

"No he wasn't-! God- are you even listening to us? How many times have we tried to tell you you're delusional!" Yakko threw his hands in the air.

"I am not!!! Why can't you see it-!" Wakko began to tear up too.

"God- are you seriously gonna cry?! You're the one who decided to possible ruin the only fucking friendship I've ever had outside of my family and not only that- but you also possibly just ruined Warnerstock's relationship with Max's Kingdom too!"

Wakko took a step back at that.

"I-i didn't-"

He looked at his mom and Dot- their looks confirming.

"No... No- i- I can't believe you. You are such an idiot- Did you not consider that would happen at all?" Yakko was baffled.

"Yakko-" Lena tried to interrupt.

"I-i'm not an idiot!" Wakko tried to defend, but it was getting really hard for him to justify his actions...

"Yes, you are!!! God- you never think anything through- and even if you realize it was utterly moronic, you still commit!" Yakko spat. "Fucking wild animals have more sense than you!!!"

"Yakko, that is enough." Lena snapped.

Silence echoed through the empty tower, but the damage had already been done. Wakko looked to his mother for sympathy, she only met him with a look of dead seriousness.

"Wakko- you put Warnerstock's relationship with Disneyland, as well as Yakko's relationship with Max, at great risk due to your recklessness and jealousy. There will be a severe punishment to speak of in the morning." She said firmly.

"I w-was just trying to protect..." He hardly had the strength to say it.

"Wake the fuck up, Wakko. Does anyone here look better off- or "protected"- because of your actions? Haven't you done enough?" Yakko bit. Lena gave him a look, but Wakko saw he was right.

Good god- he really was a screw-up, wasn't he?

"I just..." Wakko practically whispered, as he looked to Dot, who only shook her head and looked away. With that last little betrayal, Wakko had had enough. Before he knew it, he bolted out of the tower and out and around the hallways of the castle, before he made it out into the garden and ran deep, deep, deep within to where the hedges were trimmed high and he knew no one would hopefully ever find him.

God- he was such an idiot. He should've listened- he should've fucking listened. Now Yakko hated him, his mom hated him, his dad probably hated him, and even Dot hated him. He put the kingdom in jeopardy- god- why was he such an idiot??

Grandma was right about him. He never knew his place- always acting out on idiotic decisions, impulsive like a filthy animal (though even rabid animals had more sense than him).

He should just stay in this garden forever and die, then everyone around him would stop being hurt from his stupid decisions.

Wakko curled into a ball, hugging his knees as he laid in the grass as he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until he eventually ran out of energy, and before he knew it, he was totally and utterly asleep.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 The End

[jostenneil]

would you say more on how the writers are totally missing why bruce adopted his kids? im interested in hearing your commentary i wanna know how bad the new writing fucks up

a lot of it is to me a notable product of the slowly evolving idea that bruce is waging a war on crime for which he needs to employ soldiers. in the pursuit of that idea, and in the pursuit of long-form narrative arcs where villains are no-longer relegated to the purpose of one-off appearances, writers steadily forget that what made bruce into a hero first was his empathy. he lost his parents at a very young age and thus decided that he never wanted to see anyone else become a victim the way he became one, and this ideology extended to his relationships with the children he adopted. he didn't want them to be alone with all of this pent-up rage and anguish inside and with no healthy outlet to channel those emotions into. he wanted to give them the safe haven and support that he didn't have growing up. and obv, he wasn't always good at providing that. growing up the way he did left him with a lot of communication issues that sometimes threw wedges in those parental relationships. i think esp with immediate pre-crisis bruce and dick, we got to see a good example of that. bruce simultaneously wanted dick to have everything that he could give him, like an education, but he also knew he had to try to respect that dick's personal wishes would be different. there was some rockiness between them, and sometimes bruce inadvertently took charge before dick reminded him of his own agency, but it wasn't unsalvageable to me. it just felt like standard parent-child relationship growing pains. where i think things inevitably took a turn for the worst in terms of bruce portrayals was actually with jason. like obv we have the frank miller stuff to blame, but what i think jason dying did was allow for the "robin existing is child abuse" idea to permeate bc that was literally the reason starlin gave for orchestrating his death, and writers were content to allow that reasoning to extend to portrayals thereafter, which obv resulted in whatever we got going on with leslie and stephanie in war games/crimes. it's really odd to me though that writers allowed that idea to permeate bc, to me at least, what made jason's death special (and why i personally think he should have been the only one to die) is that he was the one robin that bruce actually "recruited". every other robin or batgirl pushed their way into the field of their own volition (ig you could maybe argue that bruce recruited cass, but personally i would argue against bc she had already been trained at length by her father and she was already going out of her way to save people before bruce acknowledged her wish to help at large). so like, as much as i hate that he died, i think it also kinda resonated in an interesting way, esp with a lot of bruce's closed-off behavior in the nineties. he felt guilt-ridden over what he'd allowed to happen, he grew more willing to shoulder burdens entirely on his own, it was hard to convince him to let new people into the game, etc etc. that progression of him becoming a stricter, darker character and it being a result of jason dying made sense. what doesn't make sense is to act like bruce was always that scathing, or to peddle the idea that he only ever adopted children to recruit them as child soldiers when the whole point of jason dying was to emphasize that he was the One robin bruce recruited and it resulted in such tragedy, which bruce thereafter never wanted to repeat. and not only does that latter part damage him as a character over time, it also damages the robins and batgirls bc it robs them of their own agency with regards to heroism. none of the robins and batgirls aside from jason needed bruce to ask them to join his crusade. they joined the cause of their own volition and at times even went against his wishes in pursuit of the cause. to act like bruce has always worked to employ child soldiers directly jeopardizes so many of their origin stories as heroes bc now heroism is no longer something they sought to pursue on their own first. it becomes something that bruce is responsible for, and in the process it obscures the fact that his relationships with them were built on empathy first, not a commitment to a cause

[gohyuck]

prologue | part 1 | part 2 | part 3

pairing: greaser!jeno lee x rich!reader; part of a collab by @neovisioned​

genre: greaser!au; runaways!au; criminal!au; angst/fluff/smut

word count: 10.4k

warnings: infidelity, miscarriages of justice, johnny’s a huge asshole in this i’m so sorry, a lot of straight up classism, explicit mentions of sex (fingering), vehicular manslaughter, armed robbery, general unarmed violence and fighting, pistol-whipping

a/n: so i know a lot of people loved the fact that my most recent long fic (surgeon jaemin!) focused on side characters, but i’ve made this fic pretty jeno-centric on purpose, and i hope it’s still as enjoyable as possible for readers! 

May 29, 1957

He’s always been easy on the eyes. 

It’s shallow, and a great part of him knows it. Still, as far back as he can remember, Jeno’s always had one thing, and one thing only: his looks. When he was 7 and starving on the streets, terrified of going back to a broken, lifeless home, he’d use his adorable face to elicit pity and pizza from the aging man who ran the local diner. When he was 15 and growing into himself, his blossoming attractiveness got the girl in his geometry class to give him her homework to copy off of, free of charge. When he’d first started working at the garage, a high school dropout at the age of 17, it was his ‘rugged handsomeness’ - review courtesy of the college girls who trailed their rich boyfriends as they searched for cheap fueling and car repairs - that called in tips by the handful. 

Jeno’s always had his looks. That’s why, even though he thinks it’s silly of him, he can’t help but look at you with eyes that are overflowing with apprehension. He grips the blond hair-dye just a little too tightly, fingers making what’ll be lasting indents in the plastic box. 

“Do I really have to do this?”

You arch an eyebrow, wrenching the dye out of his iron-grip as you do. Jeno watches, feeling more helpless than he has been this whole time as you shake its contents out into your hand. The bleach and the agent you mix it with fall into your open palm, followed by the barely darker dye. You read the instructions over once, twice, before finally looking up to meet Jeno’s trained gaze. 

It’s all you can do to heave a heavy sigh.

“You were framed for a robbery, and then you stole a car and accidentally kidnapped me, but the hill you choose to die on is dyeing your hair? Really? If you’re like this now, what are you going to do when we get tattooed?”

“I - We - Tattoos?” Jeno squawks, and you can’t help but sigh again before rolling your eyes. 

It’s going to be a long night. Amidst it all, you can’t help but think back to how everything started.

As Jeno keeps his glare trained on the dye, you can’t help but assume that he’s doing the same. 

♕ ♕ ♕

Day One: May 25, 1957

Cherry red lips, wanton giggles, a skirt that’s too short, even by what she calls her ‘very own tramp standards’. Jeno can’t get enough of it all - can’t get enough of her, he’s so intoxicated by her. It’s in the way her head falls back, her mouth falls open, her knees fall down, allowing her legs to fall wide. He leans over her, his well muscled arms making it easy to hover instead of collapse on top of her as he coaxes her release from her, two fingers deep in her spasming cunt while his thumb works away at her clit. Jeno’s close - so close - to what he wants, but he doesn’t dare to chase after it; instead of pressing his lips to hers and tasting that enticing lipstick for himself, he settles for pressing his forehead against hers, letting his soft breath land against the silent scream her mouth is currently displaying. 

Her chest heaves, her next breaths come out in gasps. As she settles down, Jeno can’t keep himself from dipping his head down, pressing a gentle and completely chaste kiss against the skin of her stomach between her belly-button and her underwear line. She squirms at the feeling of his warm lips against her now-hot skin, and he chuckles against her body before pulling away for good, though not before wiping his fingers on her thigh. 

“‘S that good, Jess?” He quirks an eyebrow, pulling a handkerchief from his back pocket for her to wipe the sweat across her forehead with. “There’s grease on that s- yeah, that’s the good side.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl, Jeno Lee,” The woman responds dryly, though he doesn’t miss the pleased smirk that crosses her features. She swipes at her inner thighs once before tossing the handkerchief - or, really, rag - at the mechanic, who catches it with ease and stuffs it back where it came from. 

“You’re the one who wanted to be fingered in the passenger seat of Johnny Suh’s car, filthy girl,” Jeno throws back, not surprised when Jess swats at his arm at the mention of her boyfriend. She loves Johnny, Jeno knows she does, but that doesn’t stop her from begging for Jeno’s fingers or tongue or, if she’s got time, his dick, whenever she stops by the City Motors garage that Jeno’s been employed at for the past two months. She always comes in driving Johnny’s red Chevy Bel Air convertible. He knows it’s bad of her and bad for him, especially if Johnny ever gets wind of it, but he can’t find it in himself to stop, not when it’s free spank bank material. 

Jeno’s probably a bad person for it. He doesn’t really care - after all, it’s just sex. If emotions were involved - and they never are, not for Jeno, not when it comes to getting his dick wet - it might be a different story. That, and it’s Johnny Suh’s girl. 

Jeno fucking hates Johnny Suh. 

“Say, speaking of John,” Jess says, seemingly sufficiently cooled down by now. “I keep meaning to and forgetting to ask - you’re the same age as his sister, aren’t you?” 

“(Name)?” Jeno asks, his brow furrowing when he gets a nod of confirmation. “Yeah, I mean, we were in the same homeroom and shit this past year. Why?”

“Just curious. You’ll probably see her a lot more often from now on, honestly - she got a job at the diner when they had that hiring spree last week.” Jess flicks her head vaguely towards Jeno, and he knows it’s because, if he turns around and looks out the window, he’ll be staring directly at Kim’s, what can be considered the only good eatery on this side of town. He tries his best to seem even vaguely interested at what Jess is saying - going so far as to crane his neck backwards in order to look at the same diner he sees day in and day out - but she calls his bluff easily. Instead of saying anything, she just rolls her neck out before finally shoving the car door open.

“Say ‘hi’ to her sometimes, y’know?” She asks, peering in once she’s standing. “For me. Forget that she’s a Suh sometimes. She needs to talk to more people, anyways.” Jess states, her gaze imploring. Still, Jeno can’t help but scoff at the last thing she says, prompting an affronted look from the woman who’s looking expectantly at him. 

“(Name)? Needing to talk to more people? Everyone adores her, she’s always with some new person getting into some bullshit. Honestly, she probably needs to talk to less people at this point.” Jeno explains himself so as to not garner anymore adversity from his fuckbuddy, though the way he squints in mild disbelief at Jess’ suggestion annoys her anyways. The mild petulance that comes through only serves to remind Jess that Jeno is, in fact, only 19 - and while her being 21 doesn’t change their dynamic much, it does bring about some slight difference in maturity. 

She tends to overlook it because the benefits seem to outweigh the detractors.

As Jess makes eye contact with Jeno, though, she knows he won’t listen to her friendly suggestion. She doesn’t know why she bothers, sometimes - even though she’s only in it for the sex, he’s really only in it for the sex. As far as anyone’s concerned, Jeno Lee does only two things, and he does them well: fix cars and fuck. Considering that he’s a high school drop-out with no plans of college or trade school, Jess supposes that he doesn’t have much else to do. 

“Whatever,” She finally acquiesces, not bothering to return the small smirk Jeno throws at her. “What’s the time?”

“It’s about 4:45,” The mechanic responds without even checking his wristwatch, though Jess doesn’t doubt that he’s right. “What time’s he coming by for his car again?”

“Couple minutes past 5. Got a smoke? I need one.” Jess is still peering into the car from outside, her expression making it seem like she’s waiting for something more than a quick cigarette break. Jeno holds her gaze steady for a beat, two beats, before he breaks away, pushing the door open on his side so he can finally get out too. After all, the car is honestly kind of cramped, and absolutely not ideal for what they’ve been getting up to in it… week after week after week. 

“You should tell your boyfriend to stop fucking up his car,” Jeno states simply, leaning over the fabric top of Johnny’s convertible. It’d been the left sideview mirror today, the transmission last week, the rims the week before. It wouldn’t surprise Jeno if Jess drives in four days from now with a crack in the windshield and her underwear already around her knees. Jess says nothing, only leveling Jeno’s stare. He waits, finally breaking it for the second time in a row once he’s sure she’s sweating a little bit in her new boots. The small smirk he allows himself as he beckons for her to follow him back into the garage is reward enough for him. There’s a pack of Camels set on his work bench, open in such a way that Jeno knows Jaemin must’ve taken one earlier when they’d started their shift together. 

“Help yourself, doll.” Jeno says, gesturing vaguely towards it after pulling a cigarette out for himself. He swipes the lighter off of Jaemin’s desk - his friend’s on a late lunch break at the diner right now anyways - and uses it to light up his own smoke before tossing it underhandedly to Jess. 

“Don’t ‘doll’ me,” She scoffs, her words muffled around the cigarette that’s now in between her lips. He admires her hands, her nimble red-tipped fingers as she lights it up, pulling it out from her mouth and letting it dangle between two fingers before setting the lighter down on top of the pack. “You know only Johnny’s allowed to call me that.”

“If he had that much of a handle on you, you wouldn’t be crying for my cock every week now, would you?”

“I don’t cry,” Jess protests, and Jeno finds both her sudden indignance, and the fact that this is the hill she chooses to die on, kind of cute. He has no feelings toward her, sure, but it doesn’t mean he can’t admire her for what she is: art. And someone’s gotta nail masterpieces against walls, right?

“You get the gist.” Jeno brushes her complaint aside with ease, blowing smoke out through one corner of his mouth before he speaks. “Tell him to watch where he parks so he doesn’t screw up his mirrors again. There’s gotta be some limit on daddy’s money.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” Jess throws back, and Jeno can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“His highness won’t talk to a lowly greaser like me, obviously. Probably thinks I spend all my tip money on hair oil or some stupid shit. You really picked one for yourself, Jess. Outdid yourself on the asshattery of the last one. The fact that he makes you drop his car off when he’s the one who screws it up should be a red flag itself.” Even talking about Johnny has a pit of dread growing in the bottom of Jeno’s stomach, and he drops his half-smoked cigarette to the ground before crushing it under his work boots. He knows it isn’t the cig making him feel sick, but he suddenly has no appetite left for nicotine anymore. 

“You’re lucky our friendship predates my relationship, or I’d fuck you up for saying shit like that,” Jess warns, though there’s no real bite behind her bark. She drops her cigarette to the ground too, and Jeno steps on it so she doesn’t have to. 

“Can’t believe you’re deciding to keep some kind of allegiance to me based solely on the fact that our moms used to stick us together when they went to whore around downtown while our dads were being drunken good-for-nothings somewhere or the other,” Jeno scoffs in faux disbelief even as his eyes fold into half moons. Jess allows herself a small grin at the expense of their younger selves as well. They both know better than anyone that shared traumas can only make bonds stronger. “When’ll you tell your prissy, pompous, prick of a partner that you’re one of the lowlifes he hates so much?”

“He already knows that I wasn’t… well off before I got my job at the salon,” Jess replies carefully, doing her best not to incriminate her boyfriend in the eyes of someone who already loathes him. “Besides, he honestly isn’t that bad. He says shit sometimes, yeah, but he knocks it off if I tell him to. Shouldn’t affect whether or not you talk to (Name), anyways.”

Jess slips you into the conversation so easily that it almost gives Jeno whiplash trying to process what she’s said. When he’s done, it’s all he can do but to let out a confused query.

“The hell does (Name) have to do with this?”

“I mean, you’re the same age, and you kind of know each other. I just figured that...”

Suddenly, Jess’ motives dawn on Jeno. Judging by the way she trails off, ending her sentence both sheepishly and abruptly, she sees that he’s figured her out, too.

“Are you fucking trying to set me up with your scummy boyfriend’s sister?”

“He isn’t scummy! And, I mean, not necessarily. Maybe. Just a little, but come on! Isn’t it right for me to want two people I love and care for to find love and caring in each other?” Jess’ words come out harried, and she flaps her arms around a bit to try and prove the point she just can’t seem to hit on. Jeno’s brows furrow even more, and he can’t help his incredulous snicker.

“You, Miss ‘I just got fingered by a childhood friend in my boyfriend’s car for what has to be, like, the sixth time in four weeks’, want to talk about what’s right and what���s not?” Jeno points out, and Jess winces slightly. He knows it’s a bit of a low blow - yes, Jess is a cheater, and it’s completely terrible of her, and maybe even Johnny Suh deserves better than someone who’s unfaithful, but if Jess is the one committing the crime then Jeno’s aiding and abetting. He can see the hurt flash across his friend’s features, and he allows himself to soften for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sure (Name) is nice and all, but I’m not looking for a relationship right now. If I was, I wouldn’t be messing around with you, or anyone for that matter.”

Jess sighs, but it’s a sigh of acceptance. She glances down wistfully at the smushed cigarette she’d abandoned earlier, making no move to get another one. Jeno assumes she’s trying to cut back - the cost of a pack has gone up again. 

“I do love him, you know that, right?” Jess says, voice soft and sincere in a way that has Jeno’s eyes flicking up to meet her own. “I just - I can’t give all of myself to him, you know? Not yet, anyways. Not after everything that’s happened in my life. It isn’t justification, it’s just…”

“You’ve been dealt so many bad hands that you don’t know how to play poker anymore,” Jeno finishes, smiling gently at his friend. “Yeah, I get it. I’m just your pain relief, remember? You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Fuck first, friends later.”

“Pretty sure it’s the other way around,” Jess rolls her eyes, though she knows he’s just messing with her. They might use each other, but their friendship predates any sexual relationships either of them have been having with anyone. They both know that Jess doesn’t just drop by the garage to drop her panties, although that is what happens first and foremost every time. 

Before Jeno can quip back at her, the telltale thrum of a car’s engine draws his attention away from his friend. Both of them turn their heads simultaneously to see none other than Yuta Nakamoto pull up in his Thunderbird, Johnny Suh riding shotgun beside him. Jeno doesn’t miss the way Jess perks up, her grin dazzling as she spots her boyfriend. He can’t say the same for himself, not when his stomach drops at the sight of the two men. 

Yuta at least has the ‘decency’ to shoot Jeno a patronizing smirk. Johnny doesn’t even acknowledge the man beside his girlfriend, instead turning directly to appraise his fixed up car after giving Jess a quick peck on the cheek. 

“Funny,” Johnny remarks thoughtfully once he’s done with his once-over. “Are you sure you fixed this? It doesn’t reek of grease or anything. Maybe you underdid your hair today, kid, hmm?” 

Jeno’s suddenly hyper-aware of how slicked back his pitch black hair is, and his fingers twitch at how badly he wants to push it back again, both out of nervousness and anger. He says nothing, only clenching his jaw in response.

“Leave him be, John,” Jess speaks up, holding her hand out for her boyfriend to take. He grabs it naturally. “He’s a good kid.”

Johnny’s cocky, holier-than-thou grin slips a little at seeing his girl - his girl - defend someone he equates to the bottom of his shoe, and Jeno notices it. For a moment, it seems like there’s a rebuttal sitting on the tip of his tongue. His necessity to keep his girlfriend’s approval wins him over, though, and Johnny says nothing more, only asking Jess to hand him the key he knows she has. 

Yuta leaves first, though not before confirming their next whereabouts with Johnny. He slides back into the drivers’ seat of his Thunderbird, raises his eyebrow at Jeno through the windshield, and backs out slowly but surely. Jeno isn’t a big fan of Yuta, either, but at least the man respects his car.

The same can’t be said for Johnny. 

He slams the passengers’ side door shut once Jess gets in, and Jeno can’t help the wince he gives at the noise. In that moment, he feels deeply for the Bel Air, wishing he could jailbreak it from the hell it must be experiencing at the Suh household. Right before Johnny gets into the driver’s seat, he stops, eyes flitting towards Jeno as he digs something out of his pockets. 

Jeno watches as Johnny flicks a dime into the open tip jar they leave out on a rickety old stool, stands there and takes it as the older man shoots him the kind of wolffish grin that never reaches anyone’s eyes. 

“Buy yourself something nice,” Johnny says, smirking as he looks Jeno up and down. He takes in the peeling leather on the greaser’s workboots, the grease stains on his blue jeans, the way his white tank top is soaked through with sweat, his ratty leather jacket lying across his workbench. When he looks back up, eyes meeting Jeno’s, the latter can’t help but feel as if he’s just been searched.

“At least… if you even know what ‘nice’ means.” Johnny finally finishes, smirking maddeningly at Jeno. Before any rebuttal can be made, Johnny’s inside his car and turning on the ignition. Jess waves goodbye to Jeno, albeit sheepishly, who only raises a hand in parting. It’s only after they’ve disappeared, tearing down Central Street, that Jeno registers Jaemin leaning against the corner of the garage. It’s evident by the way his friend is standing that he hadn’t actually witnessed anything, and Jeno finds that he wants to keep his interactions to himself today. It’s also evident that, while Jeno has nothing to tell Jaemin, the opposite does not stand true.

“What’s up?” Jeno asks, picking up and tossing the Camels at Jaemin on what is, by this point, sheer muscle memory. He throws the lighter right after, and Jaemin catches them both with ease. This is unsurprising - before school, life, and work all became too hard to balance, Jaemin had been a catcher on the local high school baseball team. 

“There’s a new broad behind the counter at Kim’s,” Jaemin says, sticking the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it as he speaks, all with the kind of finesse that only comes from years of doing the same thing. “Looks familiar, ’m sure I’ve seen her before - pro’ly went to school together. Damn pretty, looks more your type than mine, though.”

Jeno doesn’t really care, frankly, but it’s Jaemin and he’ll always humor Jaemin. That, and they’ve got about an hour ‘til the next person with an appointment comes in, so he’s got some time to kill. 

“You wouldn’t know if you went to school with her, considering you only ever fuckin’ showed up to play ball. I don’t think I ever saw you in class.” Jeno scoffs, though he knows he should probably keep speaking when Jaemin throws him a scathing glare. “How can you be so sure that she’s my type?”

Jaemin takes the cigarette out of his mouth, waving it around aimlessly as he finally walks over to his own workbench, right beside Jeno’s. He’s got a couple of chairs beside it, and he shoves one towards Jeno before sitting down himself. Jeno, for his part, swings his chair around so he can sit down backwards as he faces Jaemin, folding his arms over the back of it and resting his chin on top of his forearm. Once they’re both situated, Jaemin finally speaks again.

“Pretty, but doesn’t remind me of any of the greaser girls or the rich girls, somehow. Guess she doesn’t fit in that way. Smart, either talks animatedly or doesn’t say shit at all. Seemed all bright-eyed but with sum’n dark behind them. Mysterious, just a bit. Paint a good enough picture for you, asshole?” Jaemin good-naturedly flicks some ash towards his friend, drawing forth a chuckle from the other man. 

“Sounds like you’re describin’ a book character,” Jeno throws back, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes even as he’s genuinely smiling. “Been spending too much time with Mark.”

“Maybe so,” Jaemin acquiesces, leaning forward in his chair to look Jeno in the eyes. He turns his head to the side, blowing smoke out through his lips before looking back. “Doesn’t change the fact that she’s good for you. Really, I think you two could hit it off. Even got her number for you.”

“You’re that desperate to pawn me off, huh?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, though he holds out his hand for Jaemin to drop a slightly-crumpled napkin into. He might not go for whatever girl it is romantically, but it might be good to go on a date or two just to keep himself from getting too rusty with the girls. That, and he has to admit that sitting at home, tinkering with the house’s clocks or yelling at Donghyuck not to use up all the hot water for the week is less appealing than having a nice night out (or a nice night in, depending on the girl). He supposes he’s mildly optimistic as he unfolds the napkin, even allowing himself a small grin at the idea of doing something outside of his ordinary, everyday, work to home to work to home life.

Jeno’s smile fades fast once he sees what’s scrawled messily on the napkin in black ink. 

(Name) Suh

XXX-XXX-XXXX ;)

He blinks once, blinks twice, before letting out a groan and allowing his head to drop onto the wood of the chair’s back. Jaemin, concerned, asks if he’s alright, but Jeno just ignores him, too busy wallowing in the cosmic irony of his best friend giving him the number of the one girl he would never get with. 

“Is this about the chick or is it something else? I saw Johnny Suh pull out of here, that motherfucker. If he wasn’t giving us so much business all the time I would’ve TP’ed his house by now. Is it him? Don’t let him get to you-”

“Jaemin,” Jeno interrupts his best friend, finally looking up from his reprieve in the chair. Jaemin quits rambling almost immediately, his gaze running over Jeno’s unreadable expression. Jeno looks down at the note, up at Jaemin, and then back down at your handwriting again before letting out a weighty, long-suffering sigh.

“Jaemin,” Jeno repeats himself, finally making eye contact with his friend. “We need to have a talk.”

♕ ♕ ♕

“You saw that her last name is Suh and you didn’t stop to think that she might be related to Johnny fucking Suh? Really? I know you’re dense, Jaemin, but for Chrissakes!” 

Renjun’s voice rings through the small, two bedroom house as he chastises Jaemin while the two of them cook dinner. Jeno’s sitting on the floor in the living room, fiddling with Donghyuck’s radio: he’s been meaning to fix it for weeks, now, but it’s only today that he’s really found the time. That, and he’s trying to avoid the ongoing argument that’s occurring while two of his friends are making meatloaf. He knows that he’s the reason for it, yes, but that doesn’t mean that he wants to be involved. 

It isn’t Jaemin’s fault, really, and Jeno knows this. He can’t stay mad at his best friend in general, but he’s doubly inclined to let Jaemin off the hook because the younger boy has no clue as to why Johnny Suh is so universally hated in the Lee household. Jaemin doesn’t even live with them like Renjun does, so he’s blissfully unaware of exactly how marred the relationship between Jeno and Johnny is. 

“I’m home, you fucks!” The front door swings open with abandon just as Jeno finishes straightening the radio’s antenna, and he winces at the screech of the door’s protesting hinges. He’s so startled that he almost drops the radio itself, but he manages to catch it in time. This is lucky - Donghyuck saunters into the living room at the right moment, seeing Jeno both fumble and save his precious radio. Jeno pretends like he doesn’t see the glare his cousin throws at him, instead waving in greeting to him before beckoning him over.

“They’re going at it in the kitchen,” Jeno says lowly once Donghyuck’s close enough to hear him. “I wouldn’t go in there just yet.”

Donghyuck mulls this information over in his mind for a moment before raising a single, perfect eyebrow. He snatches his radio from his cousin’s lap, securing it in his grip, and sits down beside Jeno before he chooses to respond.

“And what if I want to cause problems on purpose?”

“Didn’t you have a full day of doing that at work today?” Jeno asks rhetorically, causing Hyuck to roll his eyes over-exaggeratedly. 

“Which job?” He throws back, and Jeno can’t help but laugh. Donghyuck cracks a smile, too, though neither of them know why: it isn’t funny, especially not when Hyuck is speaking truth. He’s worked two jobs since dropping out of high school alongside Jeno a year prior - one close to the rich side of town in a quaint bookstore frequented by nearby college students, and one as a local plumbers’ assistant. None of the boys ever know where he’s at, which is concerning to all of them but something nobody bothers bringing up with Hyuck. 

Judging by the fact that he’s wearing jeans and a shirt that’s had the sleeves ripped off, Jeno feels as if it’s safe to say that Hyuck’s just gotten home from being under sinks and in cisterns. By this time, he typically would’ve washed the oil out of his hair and changed into his sleeping clothes. Jeno’s heart twinges at the idea that his cousin might have to go back out to work after eating.

“You gettin’ some sleep tonight?” Jeno’s query is soft-spoken, and Donghyuck can’t help but give him a sad smile before he slowly shakes his head no.

“On house call duty until 5 in the morning. I’ll be home to nap, have some eggs, and then get to the store, though. Maybe we’ll see each other then, brother.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Jeno sighs in a way that says he knows they won’t, and Donghyuck hits his shoulder with his own. They sit like that, in silence, listening to Renjun and Jaemin bicker for a few moments, wallowing in the harsher truths of their lives for a few short moments before Donghyuck, never one comfortable with the quiet, breaks it to ask the obvious question.

“What’s up with those two?” He tilts his head towards the kitchen, and Jeno sighs before dropping his head down and pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes.

“Jaemin wingman-ed me to one of the new hires at Kim’s.”

“That’s not so bad,” Donghyuck says, furrowing his brow at Jeno. “I mean, you’re a manwhore. Figured that isn’t something you’d particularly mind.”

“Shut up,” Jeno scowls, much to Hyuck’s amusement. “And that’s the pot calling the kettle black. It isn’t the act, it’s the victim.”

“The vic- the girl?” Donghyuck’s voice is incredulous now, and Jeno all but groans as he shakes his head in disagreement.

“No - I mean, maybe, considering it’s Jaemin she was talking to - but no, fuck. I meant me, I’m the victim.”

“And why is that?”

“Because the girl is - he got me (Name) Suh’s number, damn it. Of all the girls he could’ve talked to about me, it was her.”

Donghyuck’s teeth clench immediately at hearing the unholy last name, and the air leaving his mouth between his lips makes an odd, hissing noise. His grip on his radio tightens, the pads of his fingers whitening. It’s a beat, two beats, before Hyuck lets up on the thing he has in his hands, sighing with mild dejection.

“Jaemin only moved here right before high school,” Donghyuck rationalizes, though the darkness behind his pupils lets Jeno know that he isn’t happy about being reasonable. “And we never really talk about the thing with Doyoung. I guess he either didn’t register that they’re related or he thinks our hatred is only over the class bullshit Johnny pushes on us whenever he sees us. I’m surprised you never told him the whole story, though - you two are as close as brothers.”

“What, you jealous?” Jeno teases on instinct, mainly aiming his witticism at the last phrase Hyuck had uttered. His cousin rolls his eyes once again, nudges his shoulder once again. Jeno grins, dropping his gaze to his hands. 

“It isn’t that I wanted to keep it from Jaemin - it just never came up. He hates Johnny, too, but it isn’t in the same way as us. I guess I’ll explain it tonight - we’ve got an early shift at the garage tomorrow, as it is.” 

“Let me guess,” Donghyuck sighs. “You start at 5?”

“Damn straight.” Jeno smiles sadly. “We aren’t kids anymore, Hyuckie, are we?”

“No sir,” Donghyuck smiles back, running a thumb over the radio’s buttons. “But goddamn, does adulthood suck when you don’t even have time to be with your family. Speaking of, where’s that idiot older brother of mine?”

“I heard that, you asshat!” Jeno looks up just in time to see Mark box Donghyuck’s ears, albeit as gently as possible. Still, the youngest Lee winces in pain, whining at the sudden attack. 

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Jeno notes, grinning up at his older cousin. “Didn’t hear you come in. How much did you hear?”

“Came in through the back. If you’re talking about whatever is happening in the kitchen, then nothing. If you’re talking about your explanation of whatever is happening in the kitchen, then everything. You two are not observant in any way, shape, or form - I’ve been here for a couple of minutes. I agree, by the way - you should tell Jaemin about it.”

“Tell Jaemin about what?”

Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark all turn their heads simultaneously to see Jaemin and Renjun walk in, the former balancing the meatloaf on a tray and the latter holding a stack of plates, knives, and forks. Mark, who’s already standing anyways, leans over, grabbing some of the cutlery to ease up Renjun’s load. Jaemin sets the tray down on the floor after kicking aside the tools Jeno’d been using on the radio, and once he straightens up, he looks down at his best friend expectantly. 

Jeno meets Jaemin’s gaze, takes note of the annoyance that’s still etched across Renjun’s features, and sighs. He runs a hand down his face before looking up again, this time meeting everyone’s eyes individually. Finally, he asks what he thinks is most important of all before starting on his spiel.

“When are the kids getting here?”

♕ ♕ ♕

Chenle and Jisung have to convince their respective parents that, yes, they have in fact completed all of their homework and studied for all their upcoming tests, before they’re allowed to head over to the Lees’ house for dinner. Both boys - the only two still left in high school, both juniors - come over in no time at all, seeing as they live in the houses on either side of Jeno’s. 

“Why the fuck are we having family dinner?” Chenle asks, voice booming as he walks in without any prior announcement. Jisung, who’s trailing right behind him, quietly shuts and locks the door.

“Jaemin fucked up,” Renjun says, right at the same time as Mark responds with a “Because I said so.”   Jisung and Chenle share a look - each with an eyebrow raised in confusion and mild anticipation - before sitting down, Jisung on the right of Jaemin and Chenle right beside Hyuck. Jaemin immediately ruffles the youngest boy’s hair, pairing it with a ‘You’re doin’ good in school, right? Good with all those books ‘n’ shit?’, to which Jisung, as always, nods while trying to dodge Jaemin’s next loving attack. Out of the seven men and boys currently having dinner in the house, only Mark and Renjun have their high school diplomas.

Jeno was so close to living a different life. He does his best not to think about what could have been. Instead, he starts talking, commanding everyone’s attention in the way only he can. 

“We think it’s… time we talked about Doyoung.” Jeno lets the words settle, resting against their skin before seeping into their bones. He sees Chenle visibly shudder, Donghyuck resting a soothing palm against his younger friend’s upper back. Renjun lets out a heavy sigh, and Jisung bites at the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making the sad, choked noise he certainly was about to let out. 

Jaemin, for his part, says nothing, only waiting patiently in a way that’s become his signature. Jeno thinks there’s nobody in the world more caring than Jaemin, sometimes, and his best friend never ceases to prove him right. 

“Doyoung’s my older brother’s best friend - you remember Taeyong, right? Yeah, he’s Taeyong’s best friend.” Mark explains, looking straight at Jaemin once everyone seems to have recovered from the mild shock. It’s understandable, of course - they never talk about Doyoung. It’s been years, and not once has The Incident come up. 

There’s always a time for everything, Jeno supposes. 

“Does this have anything to do with why Taeyong’s in jail?” Jaemin’s question is tentative at best, but Jeno can see that he’s just piecing things together in his mind. All six of the other boys nods simultaneously, murmuring affirmative answers as they do. 

“About five years ago, Johnny, Taeyong, Doyoung, and, uh… what’s his name? Nakamoto, or whatever, him... The four of them were fucking inseparable, did everything together. Johnny’s parents are known classists and elitists and whatever other -ists exist, but Johnny never seemed to be that way. Doesn’t matter, anyways. Rich kids are all the same in the end.” Donghyuck speaks this time, shedding more light as the story unfolds. The bitterness in his voice is highly evident, but nobody can blame him - they all know what it’s like to be ridiculed, pariahed because of poverty. All seven of them had forsaken the idea of trust ages ago.

“One night, Johnny and Yuta went out and got halfway to blind drunk at some bar they weren’t supposed to be at. Yuta at least went and decided to walk home instead of driving his car back, but Johnny didn’t give a fuck. ‘Course, he hit something almost immediately after getting in the damn thing, but he was too fuckin’ pussy to check and see what had happened.” Renjun tacks on after Donghyuck, adding on the next part of the infamous, unfortunate tale. Chenle is the next to speak. 

“He was near a phone booth, so he called Doyoung to come help him. Doyoung and Taeyong both hurried to help their friend, figuring he must’ve gotten hurt, only to find that he’d- he’d…”

“That he’d hit and killed the son of the mayor at the time,” Hyuck finishes, noticing how Chenle hesitates to go on. “Johnny had called the cops right after calling Doyoung, and the pigs got there not a minute or two after my - Mark and my - brother and Doyoung did. They immediately assumed one of them had been driving, and then assumed that the car had been stolen from Johnny rather than being Johnny’s itself. Fucking Suh never clarified, only stood by while his friends got hauled off. They knocked my big brother on Grand Theft Auto. Seven years for a crime he didn’t fucking commit. Still, at least we get to visit him every week.”

“They took in Doyoung in on manslaughter - not even vehicular manslaughter. He pleaded guilty to it because he knew they’d charge Taeyong with it if he didn’t, and Taeyong was looking after the rest of us - Renjun included - at the time. We don’t have any fucking parents, and Doyoung knew it. He’s already done five years, but he’s spending the next decade of his life in a federal super max, and we aren’t allowed to see him. Poor thing - Taeyong ended up getting jailed, too. Doyoung couldn’t’ve have known. Don’t know if he knows now, even.” Jeno finishes the story, voice quivering with rage and the few unshed tears that always accompany his thoughts about the huge miscarriage of justice his family and friends have faced. Taeyong’s room is still the same as it was five years prior, untouched. 

“Johnny was a witness in both cases, and he took the stand against them, saying they really did do what the cops said they did,” Jisung finishes, voice soft but emotionally charged. “My mom and Chenle’s mom stepped in as best they could to take care of Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Hyuck afterwards until Mark got grown, but I just know it isn’t the same as Taeyong.”

“Your moms are angels,” Mark responds, smiling kindly at the two youngest members of their ragtag group. “They saved our lives. Of course, they wouldn’t have had to do so if…”

“If Johnny Suh hadn’t ruined them first.” Jeno completes the thought, Donghyuck and Renjun nodding in agreement. Jaemin says nothing, only looking each of them in the eyes earnestly. 

He gets it, Jeno decides. The rest of them must see this as well. 

After dinner, when Jeno goes to the bathroom to brush before sleeping, he finds a thoroughly sodden piece of paper stuck to the bottom of the basin. It takes him a moment to realize what it is - the sharpie has bled into one large blob. Jeno smiles to himself before getting to work cleaning it up.

He scrapes your phone number off of his sink with his bare nails and sleeps easier that night than he has in a long while. 

♕ ♕ ♕

Day Two: May 26, 1957

Jeno’s always been good with time. It’s a gift, though it’s rare he acknowledges it: being able to more-or-less accurately tell the time without ever looking at a clock is hardly the kind of superpower people dream about. 

You leave work at around 3 p.m. - Jeno knows this because he’s out in front of the garage, sat on the hood of Jaemin’s rusty pickup truck nursing a ham sandwich when you walk out of Kim’s, unbuttoning your uniform’s top few buttons as you find your brother’s waiting car. He’s too far away to hear the words you exchange with Johnny, but he watches as you glare into the Chevy for an excruciatingly long amount of time before heaving a sigh and re-buttoning your shirt. 

Jeno doesn’t watch as the two of you drive away, but he doesn’t have to. Johnny always drives like he deserves more respect on the road than his car does, and it boils the younger man’s blood more than anything. After all, Jeno’s always been able to count on machines. People? Not so much. Cars respect him, so he respects them. 

He finishes the sandwich, immediately replacing it with an unlit cigarette. ‘Oral fixation’, Donghyuck had smirked at him one night ages ago, only to have gotten a shoe thrown at him by Renjun. Jeno can’t say that his cousin is wrong, but he’ll die before he lets Hyuck know that. He thinks back to the morning, when he’d left to come to work. He’d only seen Jaemin and nobody else, and that was just because Jaemin had been his ride. 

Speaking of Jaemin- he’d been right: you’re pretty. You’ve always been pretty, but Jeno tries to ignore it. Nobody related to the scum of the Earth Johnny Suh himself can be beautiful both inside and out - he’s never been more sure of anything. Such a thought process might be unfair, sure, but he reckons it’s better that he avoid you altogether rather than get caught up like his family members had. That’s how life goes: you hunt or get hunted. 

Jeno will be damned if he ever finds himself being the prey again. 

Jess drops by at around 4:15, no necessity behind her visit. They don’t do anything, not this time, though Jeno does have to force himself to stop imagining her lipstick leaving marks in places the sun can’t see, his fingers leaving bruises along her skin. Jaemin raises an eyebrow when he sees them talking, though he doesn’t say anything, only tossing Jess his pack of Camels. It’s only got one cig left in it, so Jeno lights it and puts it to her lips. She blows out a ring of smoke before he takes a drag from it himself, his fourth smoke of the day.

“You should apply for a dealership job or something,” Jess says at around 4:30, and Jeno’s now hyper-aware of her reason for visiting. He scoffs, handing the cigarette back to her for good. It’s suddenly the most unappetizing thing in the world. She notices his expression, but slogs on anyways, hoping that she’ll get through to him. “I’m serious! You’re smart, Jen, real smart. You could do worse than sellin’ cars to crackpots in suits. You’d make more cash, too.” 

Her drawl only comes back to her when she’s talking to her childhood friends, and Jeno supposes it’s an unwitting act of classism. They don’t ‘speak good’, as Jaemin would teasingly put it, but they have heart. It’s something that’s hard to find in people who have more money. Jess has grown up like them, yes, but in some ways she’s no longer part of the world Jeno’s forced to live in. It’s a world where he’s got family and friends in jail, where his own brothers - he almost never calls them his cousins, because they’re brothers if he’s ever had any - have to work two jobs just to make sure all of them get by, where their friends have to do the same. Jess has a stable job now - kudos to her - and a rich boyfriend. She’s set for as long as she can hope to be.

She’s okay with doing up the hair of ladies who sit idly and gossip about the ‘filthy poors’ in the south side of town. Jeno can hardly look rich folks in the eyes without gritting his teeth into dust. He’s well aware that they are not the same. 

“Why this sudden interest in my career?” Regardless, he only questions her coolly, unwilling to start an argument that won’t find an end any time soon. There’s no telling when a car will come in and Jess will have to leave so the boys can do their work, and, besides, this isn’t a discussion he wants to have. Not with Jess. Not with anyone. 

He’d been so, so close to going to college with a full ride. Jeno had dreams once. He’d been a fool to even think of possessing such intangible commodities. He doesn’t have any anymore.

“I just… you’re brainy as hell. It’s a shame seeing you as a grease monkey when you could do more with your life, is all. I mean well, Jen, you know I do.” Her eyes are wide in earnestness, and Jeno can’t help but sigh. It’s not Jess’ fault he’s a realist, that he’s lost opportunities before. Before he can say anything in response, though, probably breaking her heart just a little bit in the process, Jaemin pipes in. 

“If I have to drop him off at a dealership everyday in the hunk o’ junk I drive while he’s dressed up in a three-piece suit, I’ll hang myself using a chain of grease rags. Besides,” He chuckles, tilting his head at his best friend. “Who’ll keep my sorry ass company here at the shop?”

A corner of Jeno’s mouth lifts up immediately at the save, and it’s all he can do to shrug and gesture towards his best friend in agreement. Jess rolls her eyes before darting her gaze between the two men, and once she realizes that she really won’t get anywhere with either of them, she only sighs and shakes her head, dropping the idea for good… for now. 

“That’s not the only reason you came here.” Jeno states, keeping an eye out for any potential customers. It’s a Sunday, though, so he doubts many people will come by. Church hasn’t been out for long - he knows this for sure because Mark never fails to attend, no matter how heavy his university course load gets and let alone how many hours during the week he’s had to work. He’s the only one currently pursuing a higher education, and Jeno thinks that he might be the only one tenacious enough to do so. 

It’s a shame - Jeno’d been real smart in school. So had Hyuck. They both know Mark beats himself up everyday for being the only one of the Lees who’ll get a Bachelor’s, but they both also know that he’s least likely to jeopardize his education. If anyone deserves college, it’s Mark. 

“How’d you guess?” Jess draws the mechanic out of his thoughts, and he blinks rapidly before orienting himself back in reality. His smirk returns - Jeno thinks he might use it as a facade too much at this point - and he can only laugh. 

“I didn’t - it was a shot in the dark. What’s up?” 

Jess opens her mouth to speak, but is cut off by Jaemin, who doesn’t realize she’s about to talk. Jeno’s best friend tosses him the beat up truck’s keys in a perfect arc, throwing him a well-meaning grin while he’s at it. 

“We won’t get much work today,” Jaemin states as Jeno catches the keys nimbly. “I’ll walk down to Church today, haven’t been in a while. Might be nice.”

“If you’re gonna go every three months at most, what’s the point of goin’ at all?” Jess asks, only mildly peeved at having been interrupted. Her grin is sunny, though, and Jaemin knows that she’s just teasing. A friend of Jeno’s is a friend of his; the vice versa also tends to ring true. 

“Unlike this one over here,” Jaemin jabs a thumb out towards Jeno. “I still believe. That, and I figured I’d walk Mark home. Don’t get to see him too often, y’know?”

“Hey- “ Jeno starts, stopping immediately as Jess waves him off with one hand. 

“Don’t mind him, he’s just disillusioned with everything he can’t see. Catholic Church included. Of course, whenever his grandparents are in town, he still pretends.” Jess explains sagely, much to Jaemin’s amusement and Jeno’s disgruntlement. The latter rolls his eyes, raising the hand enclosing the keys in a wave goodbye as Jaemin pushes himself off of the wall he’s leaning against. 

“Funny how Mark’s a Protestant and so is Hyuck - kind of, I don’t think he’s super religious at this point - but you’re a Catholic.” Jaemin notes, and Jeno shrugs for the second time in one day. 

“Mark & Hyuck’s dad was a Pastor, my dad converted to Catholicism for shits and giggles when he was, like, 15. They might be brothers, but they aren’t the same. I was never the religious disgrace of the family, though,” Jeno notes, a small, sadder smile replacing his grin momentarily. “Not after Taeyong said he’s an atheist. Anyways, Mark’s probably on his way home already, if you leave now you might be able to catch him.” 

Jaemin knows better than to press, only nodding, raising an eyebrow for a split second, and turning on his heel before easing himself into a jog. He’s still dressed in his work clothes, and his hair is as shaggy as ever, and Jeno thinks churchgoers might faint upon seeing him. He also knows that Jaemin doesn’t mind. 

“Now you,” Jeno looks at Jess once Jaemin is out of sight. “What’s up?”

Jess’ shoulders droop immediately, and for a moment she looks so forlorn that she doesn’t even look like herself. The expression passes as quickly as it had come into view, and Jeno accepts the nonchalant smile she gives him like it’s what she means to project outward.

“John’s been secretive lately.”

She says so much more with her eyes than she does with her mouth. Jeno sighs, tilting his head as he does to survey his friend for a moment. Jess is conflicted, that much is evident, and Jeno doesn’t quite know why. Nevertheless, he’s always made sure to keep his head out of other people’s business. He won’t change now. 

“If you’re worried that he’s cheating, why don’t you talk to him about it?” Jeno says it like it’s easy, like Jess isn’t unfaithful to her own boyfriend. His eyes dart out towards the street again - nobody’s coming in for repairs. Jess lets out a huff of air, and Jeno realizes she must think his words are sarcastic rather than as earnest as he’s meant them to be. 

“I’m being ridiculous, I know, it’s just- I just… I don’t know. It isn’t even that he’s acting super different, he’s just being more… conspiratorial? With his friends? It’s more of a feeling than anything else, I guess. I must sound fucking insane.” She runs her fingers through her hair, pushing it away from her face even as she casts her eyes towards the ground. She may be trying to reassure herself that she isn’t seeing things, but it’s called a sixth sense for a reason. 

“You have good intuition,” Jeno rushes to assure her that she isn’t losing her mind. “I hope you’re wrong, but… maybe you and your boy toy need to have a good talk. From both sides.”

“Yeah,” Jess responds, not knowing what else to say. “Yeah. I just had to say it out loud to someone that wasn’t my reflection, I think. I’ll figure it out. Anyways, I have a couple regulars dropping by at the salon today, so I should probably- ” 

“Go to work,” Jeno cuts in, his smile forgiving. Of what, neither of them are sure. “We have all the time in the world to talk. Bye, Jess.”

“Bye, Jen.” Is the response he gets, and then Jess is on her way. The day is silent again, now that Jaemin and Jess are both gone, but Jeno finds that he doesn’t really mind it. It’s not so bad- with no customers, no coworkers, and no friends around, Jeno gets to sit and think.

That’s what he does best. 

♕ ♕ ♕

It’s 6:27 in the evening when it happens.

For once in his life, Jeno checks his wristwatch. He isn’t sure why the sudden compulsion to actually know the time overcomes him, but he chalks it up to ‘dying from boredom’ and thinks nothing else of it. After all, the rags won’t clean themselves and the shop’s workbenches are only as neat as their owners. Jeno isn’t the most put together person alive, but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t mind mess. 

So he cleans, even when he’s the only one who’s doing it. 

He’s in the midst of organizing his wrenches in size order when a familiar red Bel Air glides into the diner’s parking lot, top down with Johnny Suh’s loud laughter audible even from across the street. The music blaring from his car radio is only almost as loud as he is, and that’s saying something, because Johnny takes up every space he’s ever in. Yuta Nakamoto is beside him like he always is, though he’s more reserved than usual. Jeno does his best not to pay them any heed, but it’s difficult when his own responsibilities are mind-numbingly boring at the moment. He’ll take any entertainment he can get, even if it’s Johnny fucking Suh being the true neighborhood nuisance once again. 

Funny how people look at Jeno funny when he walks down streets minding his own business, but they don’t say jackshit about a Suh kid blasting Elvis in public right before dinner time. 

But that’s neither here nor there. 

Jeno actually manages to finish his tool-sorting and is getting ready to finally, finally pack up when the music stops. Johnny must’ve parked. The burgeoning night is eerily silent, and the young mechanic pauses what he’s doing - making sure he has everything, mostly - because the world seems like it’s holding its breath. Just as he’s about to relax, slump his shoulders, and get back to his own work, he hears it. 

Of course he hears it. It’s impossible to miss. 

The scream shatters the silence into a million pieces, startling Jeno so hard he almost drops Jaemin’s car keys. He’s rushing out of the garage before he can think, and it’s moments later that he sees none other than Johnny Suh and Yuta Nakamoto rushing out of the diner, stuffing what look like pistols into the waistbands of their jeans. There’s cold, hard cash grasped in each of their hands, and Jeno cannot, for the life of him, comprehend what he’s seeing.

He makes brief eye contact with Johnny Suh, and the recognition in the older’s narrowed eyes freezes Jeno’s blood. There’s no time to ponder this, though - not when Johnny pulls out and rushes away within seconds, his car roaring to life on the town’s streets. Jeno’s just witnessed a robbery - a robbery by one of the richest and most powerful people in the area. Jeno’s just witnessed a robbery, and the criminal himself is aware of this.

As he watches the owner of Kim’s run out, hands on his head in panic and disbelief, all Jeno can think about is how Johnny Suh is going to try to shut him up. Jeno is now the star witness to a criminal act. There’s no way he’ll sleep tonight.

He leaves City Motors with duller eyes than he ever has, his workstation spotless and mind swallowed in darkness. 

At least now he knows why Johnny’s been weird towards Jess lately. 

♕ ♕ ♕

Jaemin drops Mark off at the Lee household with a parting hug, clasping their hands together in a high five before pulling each other into their chests and clapping each other on the back. Each other. Jaemin might be the ‘newest’ addition to their band of seven, but he doesn’t feel any different from the rest of them. They’re his brothers, and he’ll always have their backs. They’ll always have his.

Mark invites him inside, but Jaemin declines - he’s out of chewing gum, of all things, and he knows the sketchy convenience store by the alley near 7th Street always sells at half price on Sundays. He bids the older man goodbye again, throwing him a lax two-finger salute and a small smirk before turning on his heels and jamming his hands into his jean pockets, a stance that does nothing to help his already awful posture. 

He whistles all the way down to the store - Kun’s Konvenience - mostly because he can’t get the tune Hyuck is always humming out of his head, but also because he feels almost truly happy. Sure, his future looks like it’ll lie in the City Motors garage for the rest of his life, and sure, maybe he shouldn’t step foot inside Church - the dirty looks had been telling today - but that doesn’t dampen his mood. The sun is shining, the sky is a brilliant blue. Kun’s is selling gum for cheap, and Jaemin’s in need of it. He rounds the final corner and the short, squat red brick building he’s looking for comes into view. 

His hand is closing in on the handle of the store’s front door when another, slightly larger, hand places itself on top of his. 

Jaemin barely has time to step back when a fist connects with his jaw. Through his swimming vision, he sees Johnny Suh raise a pistol, and he doesn’t have the time to raise his hands before the butt of the gun collides with the side of his head. The last thing Jaemin remembers before passing out entirely is the ugly, ugly sneer across the older man’s face as he glares down at him. 

“Sorry. Blame your meddling friend.” Johnny spits out, placing a well-aimed kick in Jaemin’s side as his finale. 

 ♕ ♕ ♕

It’s 8:32 at night when the landline rings. Mark’s studying and both Donghyuck and Renjun are out at work, so Jeno’s the only one available to pick up the phone. Typically, he’d be wary of doing so - the neighborhood elementary schoolers have only recently discovered the cheap thrills that come with prank calling - but something compels him to hear out whoever’s on the other end.

There’s a crackling noise, and what sound like hushed whispers, and this goes on for so long that Jeno’s about to either yell something about working on homework instead of pranking or just hang up without a word when the other person finally speaks. Jeno sets down the dish he’s washing, pays no mind to the way it clatters into the otherwise-empty sink when Johnny fucking Suh finally opens his damned mouth. 

“Caught an eyeful down at City Motors today, didn’t you?” He asks, casually, as if there are no underlying threats hiding beneath his overly honeyed words. As if he isn’t the one who’s committed a crime, as if Jeno’s the one with the gun and the money he never earned. Bile rises almost automatically in the younger man’s throat, but he can’t bring himself to put the phone down anymore. It’s as if he’s stuck. 

“What do you want?” Jeno manages to hiss out when the urge to vomit recedes, and the way Johnny chuckles in response sends chills down Jeno’s spine. There’s something sickeningly sinister about the situation they’re caught in, and Jeno knows that he’s unprepared for when the other shoe drops. His mind can’t even work properly, not when there are so many ways for this to go. 

“Police will be at your door tomorrow morning, looking to arrest the Kim’s robber. I’ll have given them a helpful tip by then, of course. Wouldn’t be good of me to know who it is and not let the local law enforcement know. Also… left you a present in the alleyway by that one convenience store your kind go to. Think it goes by the name of… Jaemin?”

Jeno’s blood runs cold at the mention of his best friend’s name. Johnny doesn’t stop speaking. 

“He was real easy to drag by his feet after I got him in the head, though getting rid of the trail of blood by the store was a little harder. I’m about half sure I left him breathing, but-”

The landline slips out of Jeno’s hand, no active effort made to put it down. Everything suddenly feels as if it’s in slow motion, as if his muscles are made of lead and his tongue is made of sandpaper, but he hears himself calling out for Mark before his own actions register in his mind. He must sound frantic, because he can hear his older cousin practically sprint down the stairs even through the haze his mind is in. Jaemin. Jaemin’s hurt. Jaemin’s bleeding, Jaemin’s in pain. 

“What? What the fuck happened- Who was on the phone- Jeno? What happened?” Mark’s voice is panicked enough, rushed enough, to shake Jeno out of his stupor. His anguish moves aside, making way for rightly placed rage as he meets his family member’s eyes. When he speaks, his voice is choked, barely restrained and yet so, so pained. 

“We need to go to Kun’s,” Jeno states, swallowing the growing lump in his throat. He can’t cry, not now, not when a clock might be ticking. He hasn’t cried in ages. He can’t cry now. Jaemin needs him. He can’t waste his time crying. “We need to go to Kun’s.” He repeats.

“It’s Jaemin.”

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - May 2

I know I say every week that I read a lot this week but I have been indulging in my favorite coping technique and so this list is ridiculously long. Twitter encouraged me. Blame them. 

**Indicates my recent favs 

~*~ 

On the inherent homoeroticism of cake decoration by welcoming_disaster (616/8K)

“She’s matchmaking, Barton,” Carol sighed.

“We,” Thor corrected, thumping himself hard in the chest, “art matchmaking.”

“Who, Cap n’ Tony?” Clint asked, his mouth full.

“Cap and Tony,” Janet confirmed, cutting herself a thin slice of egg and gently depositing it on her whole grain avocado toast, “it’s getting ridiculous.”

“Wait, I thought they were—“ Clint frowned, glancing around the room as though to confirm. Nothing but confused faces met his questioning gaze. “Huh. I really thought they were fucking.”

“And there is the crux of the issue,” Jess licked a bit of spaghetti sauce off her lip.

“Aye,” agreed Thor, “there’s rub.”

-----------

The team tries to set up Steve and Tony. Things don't go as planned.

Baby lovers like you and me (never say die) by FestiveFerret (Old Guard AU/7.5K)

The Avengers. They'd found him frozen in the ice, told him he was immortal, of all things. And with the way he'd lived through seventy years deep in the Atlantic, he found himself inclined to believe them. They'd also been very… convincing.

Without question, they integrated him into their unit - The Avengers, a secret team of unkillables seeking wrongs around the world and making them right, supported and housed by an enigmatic billionaire named Tony Stark. Their immortality, it seemed, was a secret to everyone but him.

Ready, set, bake by ChocolateCapCookie (Great British Bake Off/11k) 

The Avengers are on a nationally televised baking competition, but nobody seems to have warned the producers that the Avengers, while they save the world everyday and put their loves at risk doing so, are a) insanely competitive, and b) absolutely terrible bakers. Steve Rogers, especially, has a competitive streak a mile wide, and he's determined to win this competition, but it's not easy when his only real opponent is also the man he's been in love with for years.

***To make flowers grow (in this barren heart) by SoldiersShield, KakushiMiko (Hanahaki AU/16K) 

“You hide yourself away in your technology, but you are just as human as the rest of them. Your heart betrays your desire to possess.” Her gaze falls to the arc reactor, and Tony's blood runs cold in his veins.

“The Earth will reclaim what we have lost,” she says, dragging a hand over the chestplate of the armor. “It is you, and your kind-- your greed that pulls life from the soil as if it were nothing. You will reap what you have sown, Stark. The avarice in your heart will strangle the very life out of you.” Arna meets his eyes once more, a serene smile on her face as she leans forward.

“I hope he is worth dying for,” she murmurs, before digging her hand into his ribcage.

(Tony Stark falls in love with Steve Rogers. A rogue enchantress ensures he pays for it.)

Shelter from the storm by silkspectred (KidFic/5k) 

Tony adopts a baby. Guess who's Majorly Fucked Up™ about it.

Keep on beating by itsallAvengers (Domestic Fluff/6K) 

There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

The good or bad thing by petreparkour (Multiverse/10k) 

 “It’s the metal suit,” Thor informed Steve, his normally-booming voice tinny over the SHIELD comms. “What did Stark call it—Iron Man?”

“But he’s down here,” Steve protested as the Hulk roared in Stark’s face, startling him into waking with a shout. “How could—”

“It’s damaged,” Thor reported. “But it looks different. More advanced. And he—ah. He’s carrying you, Captain.”

“Please tell me nobody kissed me,” Stark breathed out, and then Stark’s voice suddenly came over the comms, but the man lying next to him hadn’t moved.

“Guys, come on, you’re killing me here. What is it, 2012? God, I hate time travel. First, I'm fighting Thanos. Now, I have to deal with my past self and Thor's bad haircut? Oh my God, Cap, yes I hacked their comms, they’re my comms.”

Steve nearly opened his mouth to protest that he hadn’t said anything when he realized that this replica of Tony Stark wasn’t speaking to him.

***The tipping point by nightwalker (Domestic Fluff/7K) 

Tony has a few quirks. Steve's still trying to figure them all out.

We two, how long we were fool’d by glassessay (Soulmate AU/9K) 

Steve Rogers comes into the world as unblemished as his mother. When Anthony Stark is born, his soulmark is an obvious pattern of ink across his tiny chest.

It only takes a century, two names, and a shared love of Walt Whitman for them to find each other.

The tape in the cave by betheflame (Canon Divergent/5K) 

Steve had no idea what was happening.

“You think I didn’t know that?”

Tony was staring Zemo down as though the Sokovian was actual vermin - which, Steve reflected, he kind of was.

“You think that I,” Tony continued, not hiding the sneer in his voice, “Anthony Stark, who has more powerful technology in my literal fingers than most nations have, that I wouldn’t know everything possible about how my parents died? That I wouldn’t know it wasn’t an accident, that your silly little HYDRA Nazi knock-off pals are the ones who murdered them? Please, you are pathetic.”

Happy ending by Robin_tCJ (No-Powers AU/28K) 

 Steve is a mobile massage therapist, and Tony is a stressed billionaire. What could go wrong?

With a decent happiness by torigates (Teacher AU/16K) 

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Nothing left but scars by SailorChibi (MCU/6.7K) - Reread

Steve wakes up to the fact that no one ever compliments or even says thank you to Tony, and that he has fallen into the same trap of painting Tony with a specific paintbrush.

This is how he showers a very confused Tony with praise to make up for it.

Our hearts should remember and follow by frostfall (MCU/5K) 

Steve hums. “I didn’t know you could play. Or sing. Don’t think I’ve heard anyone mention it before.”

Tony shrugs. “It’s one of the few things, skills, I don’t flaunt. Not something people are interested in, anyway. Not gonna sway any board members by playing fucking Für Elise for them. Sides’, there’s a high chance I wouldn’t even play. Well, maybe if you get me drunk enough and near an instrument. Then, I might reconsider.”

(After a dream leaves Tony rattled, he turns to the piano as a way to distract himself.)

Finally, you and me by pensversusswords (Multiverse/10K) 

Because in every layer of time, in every conceivable dimension, he was always meant to love Steve.

By some miracle, Steve was meant to love him back.

***Full disclosure not required (but appreciated) by Potrix (Identity Porn/16k) 

The one where Steve knows more than he lets on, Tony knows less than he pretends, Clint has a big mouth, Bucky is a little shit, and everyone learns why keeping secrets never ends well.

Almost never, anyway.

Heartlines by nanasekei (MCU/7.9K) 

“Let me,” Tony repeats. He regrets it deeply, so much, he wants to stick the words back into his mouth again, and it must show, in the way his voice wavers. He feels exposed, all of a sudden, as if he’s asking something bigger than what he can actually say. Let me touch you, let me take care of you. “Just… Let me do it.”

i found a way to let you in, but i never really had a doubt (marriage series) by quidhitch (Marriage Series/16k) 

Tony Stark doesn’t believe in marriage. It’s nobody’s fault. —Well, it’s Howard's fault, probably, but Tony doesn’t like to think about that for too long, finds that it dredges up all sorts of issues he’d rather keep buried under a mountain of strategically employed sarcasm, humorous self-deprecation, and the occasionally effective substance abuse.

***Hide your love away by sineala (Soulmate/33K) - Reread

Tony has suspected for a long time that the soulmark on his chest matches Steve's -- but he's never told Steve about it. And then it's too late to tell Steve anything at all ever again. In the wake of Steve's death, the Skrull invasion, and Norman Osborn's rise to power, the identity of his soulmate is just one of the many things Tony cuts out of his memory forever.

When Tony returns to consciousness, he's forced to deal with the aftermath of a war he no longer remembers fighting, not to mention a Steve Rogers who can barely stand to be in the same room with him. Surely the last thing Tony could ever need in his life is more amnesia. But that's what he gets. And Tony's new missing memory just might be the key to finding out the truth of his soulmark... as well as his chance to make things right once and for all.

Break the chain (can’t live in circles again) by orphan_account (FWB/19K) 

There had been seven amazing weeks of dating Steve Rogers before Tony realised that they weren’t dating at all. And then it was a scramble to adjust to the situation as it had always been: being Steve’s friend-with-benefits.

And if Steve seemed a little confused and bewildered by the way Tony was acting, well. Tony was probably just misreading that, too.

Five times steve and tony (tried to) bail each other out of jail by Teyke (MCU/6k) 

Twice before Civil War, twice after, and once during. For very loose definitions of both 'bail' and 'jail'.

Cracked hearts under iron ribs by XtaticPearl (Established Relationship/14k)

Rhodey is away for almost six months now and comes to meet Tony after the mission. He doesn't understand the domesticity of the whole Tower and unknowingly sets off a whole truck of insecurities which make Tony crawl back into being a Stark instead of just Tony. The team is not at all happy and Rhodey joins them in trying to figure out a way to help their resident genius feel better in his skin.

The single biggest problem with communication by BlossomsintheMist (616/108K)

In the wake of Steve's return from the dead and the end of Norman Osborn's reign of terror, the superhero community is recovering--Steve has taken on a new role and Tony is trying to put his life back together. Things are still awkward between them, but they're determined to put things to rights. But when a discussion about their feelings leads to further misunderstandings, they discover that might be more difficult than either of them realized. Set in the early Heroic Age after the end of Dark Reign, this is a get-together story about crossed wires--and second chances.

What are friends for? by bobertsmallismydad (MCU /2.8K) 

In which Steve is targeted by a virus. Will the Avengers be able to save him in time?

Starving by festiveferret (Vampire AU/2K) 

Steve woke up starving.

***Everybody wonders (What it would be like to love you) by SoldiersShield (MCU/3K) 

“...Is that what this is about?” He asks slowly. Steve blanches.

“Oh my god. It is.” Tony has no right looking as giddy as he does. “Steven Grant Rogers, are you jealous?”

--

Or: Steve and Tony have been dancing around each other for a while now, and Steve's rather content with it. Attending a gala together just might change that.

Re(A)d all over by brandnewfashion, MusicalLuna (Drunk Flirting/3k) 

Contrary to popular belief, Tony Stark can blush.

It just takes Steve getting drunk on some magical Asgardian mead for it to finally happen.

***The Do-over Proposal by nightwalker (Established Relationship/1.2k) 

Steve wants to go on a journey, Tony doesn't think it's a good time, and Bucky needs to beat some sense into both these idiots.

A Winter’s Ball by alliejowrites (Victorian AU/3.8K) 

Steve moves to London in search of a patron, so that he can finally devote himself to painting. He is not expecting everything he finds upon meeting Lord Stark. A fluffy little Victorian AU. One-shot.

What’s a fanfic by starksnack (AvAc/1K) 

Kamala introduces Tony and Steve to the world of fanfiction. There is a surprising amount of content about them being gay.

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 18/?

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: Y/N - your name, A/N - any name (your best friend's name)

Warnings: Mentions of court, mentions of Jason's injuries, swearing, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason walked out in a few minutes, just in his boxers. She looked at him before letting out a slight laugh at the absurdity of it.

"Don't laugh, you're the one who tore my clothes."

She sighed, "And you're going to have to go home in torn boxers, Bruce is going to kill you."

"God, don't remind me," he said before sitting beside her.

She laughed, "You could just not go home?"

"I wish. But I have a life. You have a life."

"It's unfortunate, isn't it. Can't spend all day with you but you're all I want to do."

"Funny."

"Thank you, I really tried," she thought, "You remember how I seem to have a fascination with vigilantes?"

"Yes, why?"

"I remembered why. So, when I was in high school, graduating year, I had law class. I was bored, so I did law, don't question it," she laughed. "Anyway, in my law class, they split us into groups. Specifically, Pro-Justice-League-Association and Anti-Justice-League-Association."

"Pro and Anti?"

"Yeah, apparently it was relevant? I guess the JLA doesn't use conventional methods to get evidence? Don't care though. Anyway, I was on the side of Pro, obviously."

"Obviously."

"Wait I'm not done! By the end of the class, I had debated every member of the Anti team and converted them. It actually introduced me to the Robin-Forums, which is just smack dab full of conspiracies."

"Robin-Forums?"

"Oh my god? You don't know those? You're all over them. Some people are convinced you're Kid Flash, some are convinced you're Robin, it's crazy."

"That is crazy but seems funny. What about my family?"

"Someone in my class posted "Why Clark Kent is Batman: An Essay" which has like, 20k likes? It's very popular."

"Well, I swear he isn't Batman. He's just very fond of the night."

"That's what I said, but that man is convinced otherwise."

"You would know if any of us were vigilantes. We're not good at hiding secrets."

"I'm sure you have your secrets, I just find it funny people think you have time to be Kid Flash."

"People spend all their time worrying about me, when will it end?"

"Ha! That's fair. Tabloids running your name probably doesn't help the conspiracies."

"I remember one of my ex-friends from high school mentioned me being Kid Flash, I was so confused, I guess it makes sense now. I'm going to have to show everyone that. They'll get a kick out of it."

"I bet they would. I'm waiting for the day I'm on it as someone who's a hero. Hoping they say I'm Wonder Woman or something. I think it would be funny."

"You get Miss Martin because everyone thinks you're too beautiful to be human."

"Aw. That's so corny that I hate it! Well done."

"Thank you. I learned it from Dick."

"Of course you did."

"Where else would I learn it from?"

"If you're genuinely asking, the internet, probably."

"That's fair. That's completely fair. I think Dick learns a lot of his lines from the internet, honestly."

"Oh yeah, there's no way he comes up with everything on his own. No way."

"So, what other dumb stories do you have?"

"Well, I think my sister is either a vigilante or really, really, weird."

"You think your sister is a vigilante?"

"Okay so, she's a businesswoman. No big deal, right? Wrong. She's always out, more often than she has to be, she's always spending nights away from home."

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Okay well Adrianna, Aria, whatever you want to call her, she's being suspicious."

"I'm sure you're looking too far into it."

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

The Night Jason Was Stabbed.

Aria clutched the scythe in her life hand. She had failed. She had worn her best dresses that she could hide beneath her capes, she had drugged him, she had stabbed him 6 bloody times, and he had still survived!

She was angry. She walked up to the Red Hood on his time off while he was catching a drink, looking stressed. She didn't care if he accepted her offer to go to her room, she just cared about that moment. The one where she could slip in the crushed-up pills and no one would stop her.

And she had done it. She waited until after he chugged the whole drink to strike. He was stumbling around, like an idiot. She hit his head with the back of her blade, knocking him to the ground where she proceeded to stab him 6 times in his right side.

She kissed his forehead before leaving, which required her to removed her mask a bit, saying "Goodnight, sweet Prince," before running into the darkness.

But the blue one, Nightwing. He got to the Red Hood before he could die. And she was pissed. All that hard work, just for him to not even die.

The scythe was still bloodied from the Red Hood. Her lips were still warm from his forehead. But now, he had possibly seen her face! Her plans were foiled every way when of her goblins came up to her.

"Ma'am, your weapon."

She passed it over without second thought. She wanted it rid of the blood of a living man, she wanted it soaked in the blood of a dead man.

Her plague doctor mask fell a bit as she began to tear up. She had failed. She had never failed at knocking "Heroes" down a peg.

Call it crazy, but she knew the fights between her and the Red Hood were far from over. She even felt as they'd grow closer.

As she looked at the walls covered in the photos of the vigilantes of the world, she knew this was only the first battle. The war was hers. They didn't know what was going to hit them.

But there was an issue. Her sister, Y/N had become close with one of the Waynes. She needed the Waynes to get to the "Heroes" which meant possibly hurting her sister.

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

"I hope I'm looking too far into it."

She wasn't.

One night when they were both 17, it was just Aria and Y/N in the house when Y/N was awoken by a loud crash from the downstairs window.

She went to investigate, bat in hand, to find her sister, stumbling over the coffee table. Bleeding out and clutching her side from the blood. Stabbed.

Y/N took no hesitation to take care of Aria. Stitching her up like they had as kids when Y/N would sitch up Aria after shut cut herself on skates, or if Y/N ran straight into a car.

Those images still dance in Y/N's mind to this day. Something was up with the way that her sister had a mask, a long bird-Esque plague doctor mask. A cloak. Knives. Guns. A scythe.

The best outcome would be her sister was attacked while LARPing in the park. The worst? She was a villain. Midway? A hero of the night, a vigilante. Anything was better than a villain.

If only she knew the pain Aria had caused her until this point. The fact that Aria was the one who drugged and tried to kill Jason. The pieces of the story were unravelling in front of everyone's eyes, they just needed to connect them properly.

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

Aria had a plan. Kidnap her sister and her lover's family. Get ransom. Get them hurting. Locate the "Heroes". The only issue was that Y/N would recognise the cloak, the mask. She knew the get-up.

Aria was not about to redesign her entire outfit for the sake of not alerting her sister. She figured it would be unlikely that Y/N would focus on the cloak when she's being used for ransom money.

Or at least she hoped. She wasn't certain her plan would even work. Breaking into the Wayne Manor, after one of the kids had been stabbed, in a mugging was going to be difficult.

They had employed security, something that was never common at the Wayne Manor before this moment. She was upset. If only her sister had met the Waynes before the stabbing.

Then she thought.

Red Hood is a Wayne?

It made sense, sure. They got stabbed at the same time. But was it reasonable? She didn't know. Why would an 18-20-year-old be a vigilante? He couldn't even legally drink?

She thought it didn't make sense. That the Red Hood was never, could never be the Wayne kid. But if he was, what could that mean?

She was certain he wasn't. But the thoughts swirled in her mind as if beckoning her to come to the conclusion.

She was crazy, she knew that. She was obviously crazy, she became the villain, the opposite of her twin in every way. She was insane. Arkham would like her. But there was something about the Red Hood being a Wayne that kept coming back to her. Haunting her like the night she was stabbed by Green Arrow back in Metropolis.

She was on their radar. They knew her. They would come to get the Waynes.

She knew the Justice League Association knew of her. But the people didn't. This stunt would make the people know of her.

The name Hour will ring through the streets of Gotham. The streets of Metropolis. Smallville. Anywhere she could get her hands on. She would begin her reign of terror.

No one could stop her now.

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

Jason had left after Bruce had called him. She assumed he needed to work or one of his siblings did a dumbass move. It was upsetting that they couldn't spend every moment together, but she knew that it was par for the course with Jason.

She was bored. She didn't have a job, her parents paid her bills if she focused on school. But she wasn't something to do, a reason to be having down days. She knew school gave her this, but it wasn't like it was every damn day.

A job would be every damn day. Hopefully. A reason to do so much in her life.

She figured she could work at Wayne Enterprises. But she didn't want to be that girl. The one who's fucking the CEO and is subsequently untouchable. You can't befriend her and talk sit, she'll tattle.

She wanted to be a normal working person. A colleague, not a boss.

Wayne Enterprises was a last resort for her. If she couldn't get hired anywhere else, she'd go apply thee. You don't fuck company property, she thought.

But she also thought fucking Wanye Enterprises "Property" was fun. and no one was really going to stop her, not even Bruce. Even though Bruce tried to lecture her and Jason, there was only so much he'd do. Barbara and Dick both worked at Wayne Enterprises and hadn't been reprimanded for that.

And obviously, they were having sex. They had been together for a while, Jason said.

Which, obviously they were having sex if they were together for that long.

She scrolled a little while for jobs, marking down a few she'd look further into. Not really anything exciting, she was still young, 1st year in college, a freshman. Not many prestigious places would hire someone her age. Especially while they're still in school.

There were only unpaid intern jobs in her field. And she wasn't about to fuck with not getting paid, even if it was her line of schooling. She didn't think it was worth it to put all of your efforts into a job that you weren't getting paid for.

A lot of kids thought her way, including her sister. Both of them grew up thinking that getting paid for work was necessary, her parents had always told them that. Even if her parents had strict religious views, they would still back her up if someone wasn't paying her, even if they fell out.

She thought if Bruce felt the same, that kids should be paid for what they do. He figured he did since he employed all of his kids once they were old enough to work at Wayne Enterprises.

She noticed Lexcorp, who had recently put up a building in Gotham, was hiring. She thought it would be funny if she went to work for her boyfriend's dad's competitor. She was tempted.

Worst comes to worst, she'd be a Lexcorp employee.

She, of course, would have to dress up for these interviews, and she had the clothes to do so, but she didn't, per se, want to wear them.

She also didn't want to go outside when trials were still raging. So, she figured she'd call Christopher's parents about getting him a lawyer and then scroll the pages for shopping. His parents finally had the time to deal with their son, because Christopher didn't want to interrupt his parents with him being an idiot.

She dialled.

"Hello?" his mom asked.

"Hey, Laura. It's Y/N."

"Y/N! Sweetheart, we've been wondering about you ever since, you know."

"Yeah, yeah. We can talk about it later I swear. So, I already told you about what Christopher did, right?"

"You did."

"He needs a lawyer, the man is pressing charges."

"Well, that's stupid. He has no right."

"Apparently he does."

"We'll get Christopher a lawyer. But how are you, darling?"

"I'm okay. Could be a hell of a lot better. I have faith in the court system."

"We're all worried about you, kiddo. You've wrapped yourself up in a lot of a mess recently."

"I know. It's weird. But I swear I'm strong enough to pull through, you've known me for what, 13 years? Give or take? I know how to handle myself."

"That doesn't mean we can't worry."

"I know, new city, new people. I swear behind the scandals I'm in that I actually have friends."

"I assume we'll meet this Jason eventually?"

"Eventually. We need to find the time between court dates, work. Adulting."

"You don't have a job?"

"Jason does. And I'm thinking about getting one to pass the time."

"Working to pass the time is a new thing, fascinating, you kids are."

"Nothing can make sense of all these things I've done, I know."

"Those sound like song lyrics."

"Sometimes songs are the best way to get all your thoughts compiled into one place, you know. I starred as Katherine Howard, Laura. I know how to convey emotion through art."

"I know. That's still one of the performances Metropolis holds on to, you know."

"I wish they didn't. But it is what it is."

"It's a good performance, kiddo."

She laughed, "Anyway. You get onto that lawyer. Christopher needs it right now."

"I will. Be safe. We love you."

"I love you lot."

Click. She thought about Christopher, and the bullshit he went through to save her.

She brushed the thoughts off and pulled out her journal. Scribbling down her sister's bird mask. She couldn't get that off of her mind. She could have sworn her sister made the thing out of actual bone.

It was like she threw a steampunk aesthetic into a plague doctor. She was certain there was more to it that she didn't know.

Literally Aria LMFAO

[tundrainafrica]

Hi, I saw antis picking on this ship with arguments like“Levi finds her annoying/he hates her”. Funny thing is that I started shipping them when I noticed how Levi, despite his annoyed look, would stick around Hange and take the initiative to tease her, again and again. I like Moblit and Petra, but I can't see Levi teasing P or Hange teasing M. To me Levi and Hange have one of the most intriguing relationshiship. They kinda carry the vibe of when Harry Met Sally.

You are so right. I hate it when people say that Levi hates Hange. Where in canon has Levi ever shown that he hated Hange? Sure, he gets a little annoyed at her but who doesn’t get annoyed at people.

And the fact that he’s visibly showing his annoyance and he’s constantly picking on her, making jokes and messing with her shows that he’s comfortable more than anything right? 

And Levi is generally a crass person with a resting bitch face. I don’t think he has ever approached ANYONE with an A grade customer service attitude. And when he approaches Hange, he just looks like an asshole because of his RBF but when he talks to Hange, I feel like with the way he approaches her is just notably more crass because that’s generally how he is and he’s just more comfortable being himself around her. 

And he doesn’t even look angry 90% of the time he talks to her? It’s just an RBF. I mean this is how angry Levi looks like and every time Levi’s angry it’s always for good reason. 

Like for example when his comrades almost die. 

Or when they actually die. 

He just has an incredibly crass way of speaking. He has no filter or at least doesn’t bother to employ it and Hange just takes the brunt of it. And doesn’t that just mean he feels no need to filter anything?  

Sure he says things which seem insulting but has he ever said something below the belt to Hange? His humor towards Hange is incredibly tamed that most people would interpret it as friendly banter especially if they got it from a close friend right? And maybe that just means he doesn’t think to low of her at all that he would say shit like that. 

And we’ve seen how Levi insults Nile or the Military Police or the rich people calling them pigs. It isn’t beyond Levi to be incredibly offensive even as a joke. 

I mean look at his jokes?

“Eren, this is still better than getting dissected by people like her right?”

The Cockroach Scene?

“Just one kick would have been enough to blast it to bits.”

And obviously the famous: 

“The abnormal titan is over here scene.” 

But really our soft boi just wants her attention. Look at him. 

Come on, the rock scene?

“Is staring at rocks some depressing new hobby of yours?” A.k.a “Stare at me. Not the rocks.”

Does Levi look angry in any of them? Honestly the interactions are so endearing. 

None of the jokes are below the belt at all? How is this hate?

And fudge, while I’m watching Levihan interactions again. I found a little gem. 

When Hange gets injured in season 3, we get this scene. 

Can I just say, the English subs in the picture above are kinda wrong.  

The English sub translates it as above while the Japanese translation is: 

「アルミン、モブリットお前たちはハンジを外に連れ出せ！」

Which literally translates to “Armin, Moblit, GET HANGE OUT OF HERE!”

Levi is just so fucking worried about Hange here man. I mean sure of course he was thinking about the safety of Moblit and Armin too but in the Japanese dub, the focus of the orders he gave was an injured Hange’s safety. He was probably panicking while the cave was falling on them that his first thought was Hange’s safety and he would have ordered anyone to get her out of there. It just happened to be Moblit and Armin there. 

And why are the English subtitles depriving us of more Levihan crumbs??

I’m gonna stop rambling now but thanks for this ask man. I happily ended this stressful week watching Levihan vids lmfao.

[kim-ruzek]

The unit beyond Hank Voight: or, why Hailey being corrupted and/or changed isn't unique or special to only her. (Part One)

This is a meta that's split into two parts. There's this, which is an introductory one, really, that addresses who Voight is and why the greater fandom opinion of him is misunderstood. Setting up for part two: how life for Intelligence should be if/when Voight is written out. Because this is a topic I think people miss the nuance on as well.

Enjoy!

There's been a lot of talk on whether or not Voight, in this time, should really be the face of Intelligence. I, personally, do think no. I get why he first became it, and I get why he still is and in many ways I appreciate it. He's not the kind of cop this world should have, even in the eighties and whatnot, but he is-- especially for Chicago-- a "good" cop. Please take that word with a grain of salt, there's not a precise word in the English language which sums his mix of good and bad in the way he is-- even "morally grey", to me, does not quite describe him.

The world does not exist in a vacuum. We'd love it to, because then it makes life so much more simpler, and it's easy to act as if life does. But the truth of the matter, the world is not a vacuum, everything is complex and messy and grey. And so our shows aren't in a vacuum either, even if they try to be-- which, for the most part, Chicago pd tries not to act like they are, unlike so many shows.

It's very easy to boil things down to being black and white, good and bad, pure and evil. This is human, and something humans have been doing for years. But the world is nuanced, and to ignore that is to misunderstand what life itself is.

Setting a show in Chicago, especially a police show, was always going to be a complicated thing. And there's always going to things they exaggerated and things they overlook, but at the end of the day, Dick Wolf did a rather good job at getting the complexities. I'm not going to go into all he didn't quite get, especially as it's not my place too, it's just my place to look into this myself and learn, and this is not the point of this meta. And because at the end of the day-- it is a show.

Voight isn't morally bad, or good. He's this mix, a man who did bad things to try and get a good outcome. And it's the age old debate-- is doing the wrong thing for the right reasons morally good or bad? I think it's neither, something more complicated but either way you stand, you can't say it's cut and dry. Because it's not.

And I don't even think he's someone who does the wrong things for the right reasons, because that's too simplistic and doesn't show the full picture. What Voight wants is the outcome, and he'll do the wrong things for all the wrong reasons to get it. He'll even do the right things for the wrong reasons and vice versa.

We don't know how our actions are cosmically tallied, that's why we have our own beliefs. And we can want him to not be the lead for those beliefs, but we also need to be true. We need to look at everything, the whole picture and assess it that way-- we cannot just pick and choose.

And that's what a lot of fans are doing. And I hate that, because it's not fair to what makes humans humans. In a way, I don't even care about Voight, but this lack of understanding is what normalises some things, normalises demonising behaviours in your own peers that should be understood.

Media has an impact of real life, not just in what it shows but how the consumers respond to it, and some of this fandoms responses annoys me-- but the thing that pushed me to make this, is that it can sicken me because it's misunderstanding what life is.

I do not like Voight's policing style. It is outdated and it never should've been allowed and honestly, that first scene in the cage nearly made me not watch this show. If I wasn't going in already in love with Burzek, I probably would've stopped.

But you cannot say that he does not care. He does. Chicago is his city, and he cares about it in the way anyone employed by the city should. Everything bad thing he has done is for the city, to make it better. His methodology is not good, and it is counterproductive because it relies on the city being how broken it is. But it does do good, and he does that because he loves the city.

And he cares about the cops he works with. Not just his unit, but everyone. His unit has become his family-- the people he puts first-- over the years but even before then, he cared. In a way, it was very blue line type of way, but in a good sort of way. Still flawed, because he'd protect them in a way he wouldn't others, but much better than peers his own age. This should be appreciated, even in it's flaws-- because if you're going to judge him, take everything into account.

Voight is a bad man, in how he's achieved his outcomes. But he is not a bad man because he's an abuser. He cares, and he should not be emulated but he cares. And he is not a fucking abuser.

To get to the my starting point-- Hailey being changed or "corrupted" by Voight is not special or unique to her.

I see a lot of people saying he manipulated Hailey. And that shooting of Roy-- yeah. There was no way Roy was ever going to get out there alive, but Hailey is not blameless in that. Everyone has been telling her who Hank Voight is from day one, and she dug in her heels and thought she understood that, yet when it came to it-- when she went into that warehouse, she did not.

Voight wants the best outcome. And if we're putting things into a vacuum, Roy being dead is the best outcome. Dead = he can't physically hurt them again. And the world can always do with loosing one more awful person. Of course,out if a vacuum, murder has it's own moral assignments which makes it not the best outcome-- but that doesn't factor in for Voight and some people might agree.

I don't but if the man I fear the most was murdered by someone dodgy but cared about me, I wouldn't complain. I'd actually be able to breathe and not worry that one day I'll be a statistic. And-- it would ensure that everyone's efforts to keep me alive would definitely be worth it. Any time life is kept is good, but if I was just to die at his hands after everything, then my saviours actions... It just would be preventing the inevitable. And they worked so hard, and that's like with Kim. The unit struggled to find her, they fought, the doctors are fighting and if all that Roy survived and managed to get her and Makayla killed.

This shooting is the only time he has outright manipulated her. And he's not an emotional abuser.

But Voight is an arsehole. He can dictate how his unit is ran, but he does do dick things. And this can be infuriating when it's to your faves, especially when you perceive it as corruption. It's not, but for arguements sake, let's say it is. Hailey is not fucking unique in that-- this has happened to EVERY FUCKING MEMBER OF INTELLIGENCE. Even sumners.

So he's not evil-- and if he was an "abuser" it's not because what he's done to Hailey. It's what he's done to them all. In fact, he's done the least arsehole things to Hailey.

And yeah, Hailey projects her daddy issues onto Voight (which, like, same girl) but he doesn't take advantage of it and also-- that whole fucking unit (excluding Antonio and Al, but then they have their own problems) had parental issues that they're clearly seeking validation for. Most notably, as shown more explicitly in the show-- Adam.

So to conclude: Voight isn't some evil abuser who has manipulation on mind and doesn't care about his unit. He does, and would do everything to protect them. And yeah, it won't be in the most easiest way to protect them, but he does want the best outcome and he'll do anything to get it.

That's part one done, because this needs to be broken up into parts. Part two should hopefully be coming soon.