#it's always being sad about Brian hours

[ceaseless-rambler]

Being sad about Brian hours

Look I know Stranger isn't about him but still, to have him play the character on the recieving end of "but I find this metal demon, spinning falsehoods into gold" don't do that to him!!! Come on!!!! What if everyone was nice to Brian. What then. What if he was allowed to be happy

[happy74827]

The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 19: In the Garage

Word Count: 977

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: Language

Summary: Eddie gets a nice surprise at work when you come in with a car problem.

Thank you to my darling @munson-blurbs for helping me when my mind was blank ❣

@corrodedcoffinfest

Eddie always stays in the bay with the cars when he’s at work. The only reason he would go into the office portion of the garage is to clock in, clock out, or use the bathroom. Yeah, he had been trained on how to do intake at the front desk when customers come in with car issues, but why would he want to do that? Why stand in the same spot for hours, listening to the boring smooth jazz coming from the speakers, and talk to people about their car issues?

When people try to mimic the noise their car is making, he can never decide if he wants to laugh or grit his teeth so hard that his jaw shatters. That would at least get him out of the conversation. 

The whole reason Eddie became a mechanic is because he’s good with cars. People, not so much. Give him a torque wrench and a spark plug gapper and he’s good to go. 

But one day, Eddie decides he really wants to work inside, behind the counter.

Eddie closes the hood of the jeep he was just working on and pulls the red rag hanging over his shoulder down so he can wipe some of the grime and grease off them. It’s impossible to get it all.

Music is playing on an old radio shoved into the corner of a workbench. Over the pounding bass, Eddie hears a car door slam in the parking lot and his head turns in that direction. Through the open bay doors Eddie sees the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Whoa,” he mutters under his breath. 

His dark eyes follow as she walks across the parking lot, towards the front door inside.

Eddie practically hops over a Subaru as he rushes to the door that will lead him into the same space as the beautiful woman. 

There’s already someone working the front counter as Eddie gets there, the beautiful woman headed their way.

“Brian, go ahead and take a break. I’ve got this,” Eddie mumbles to his coworker. 

Brian, in his late fifties, only has to look up from the desk to understand why Eddie is trying to usher him out of the way. He chuckles and steps back, allowing Eddie into the space.

“Good luck, son. Let me know when my impromptu break is over.”

Eddie nods, eyes widening in an attempt to tell Brian to get the fuck out of here. Luckily, he slips into the back just as you approach the counter.

“Hey,” Eddie says before mentally cursing himself out. Hey? That’s all I’ve got? God damn it, Munson, pull it together. 

He’d gone into fight or flight mode when it came to being the one to assist you and not given one damn thought about what to say to you.

“Hi,” you respond with a smile that almost makes Eddie’s knees buckle. 

“So, uh, what can I do for you?” Eddie asks. He certainly means that in more ways than one.

“My engine temperature gauge is all the way on hot,” you explain, hooking a thumb over your shoulder, in the direction of your car. 

Your car isn’t the only thing that’s hot, Eddie thinks. 

“Yeah, that’s no problem,” Eddie says. “I can take a look at that for you.”

His mind scrambles for a reason to ask for your name and phone number—when he remembers that’s his role right now, to get your information. Unfortunately, that would make him seem like an absolute creep, not to mention unprofessional, to use your intake form to hit on you. Asking you out would probably also venture into unprofessional territory. The thought disheartens him before a potential loophole springs to mind. When you come to pick up your car, you technically wouldn’t be a customer anymore. That should also give him a few hours to come up with something cleverer to say than, “Hey.”

“Alright, we’ll give you a call when it’s done,” Eddie says.

“Thanks.”

You turn to leave, and Eddie is caught between being sad you’re going away and enjoying the view as you head towards the door. But you stop before you get there and step over to a bulletin board hung above a drinking fountain. 

Eddie sees you looking over a flier for his upcoming Corroded Coffin show at a new bar and he perks up in excitement. 

“That’s a great band,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” You turn your head to look at him in question.

“Oh, yeah. The lead singer is great. I mean, really amazing. He also plays lead guitar. Not to mention the great hair he has.”

Eddie does his best to keep a straight face and leans forward, resting his forearms on the counter. An amused smile quirks your lips as you slip your hands into your back pockets. 

“Huh. And is he maybe a mechanic during the day?” you ask. 

Now he can’t hold the smile back any longer. He ducks his head and licks over his lips, seeing if he can school his face back into neutrality, but it’s in vain. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks back up and meets your eyes.

“He might be.”

“Hmm,” you hum thoughtfully. “Then I agree. He does have a good head of hair.”

Eddie’s smile beams even wider. When’s the last time he’s been this happy at work?

“You should swing by. Check out the show,” he offers.

You pretend to consider it, tilting your head from side to side as if you’re thinking it over. 

“I think I’m free that night,” you say. “And since this lead singer is so good, I guess I’ll check him out. Them. Uh, I’ll check them out.”

Eddie didn’t think he could smile any wider than he already was, but your slip-up does the trick. 

“He looks forward to it.”

[crushedsweets]

How would the other pastas/proxies react if Toby died during a mission?

Writing on my phone in the car 10 mins before my shift forgive me… finished during my lunch break…

Tim would try really really fucking hard to pretend he doesn’t care all that much. He’s already lost plenty of friends/colleagues (directly or indirectly) to the operator and slenderman, and he always treated Toby like he was a pain in the ass, but like. Him and Brian took Toby in when he was just 17-18, he tried to make him a better man, the two of them have done abhorrent shit together and had to return to the cabin like nothing happened. He’d cry, spend long hours thinking about Toby, thinking about how much of a dick he was to the kid. But he’s strong . Kinda

Brian wouldn’t try to pretend he doesn’t care, although he is in a very similar boat to Tim. Took him in, guided him, hurt him - he would probably be the one to set up a grave of some sort for Toby, whether or not they even have his body to bury. The rest of them wouldn’t be able to do it

It’s possible that Kate wouldn’t even find out for a long fucking while. But she would cry, and mourn, and she would start going back to the cabin and she would sleep in the attic (Toby’s room) and it would be shitty. Toby was the only proxy to treat her like a person and they were both outcasts in their own right, both being the closest to perfect vessels slenderman/the operator could get . So it would suck ass.

I think Natalie would just die too. Ok not really but he was the first person to really just. Take care of her. And she really trusted that he would never ever leave her, not like everyone else . She would be angry, pissed beyond belief and she would cry and scream and throw around any of the gifts he’s ever gotten her and smash some shit he’s made her - and it wouldn’t be fair, and she would regret it, and hopefully someone would be there to pull her back before she legitimately fucks it all up, but she can’t get rid of that anger. Like Kate, she would go to the cabin. Being there too long gets her really bad slender sickness, she’s not immune like the others, but she doesn’t really care. Everything hurt so bad anyway, the screaming and crying already brought her nausea and migraines. Her and Kate would just silently lounge around his bedroom for hours everyday. Natalie is a tattoo artist with little to no tattoos bc commitment issues is a big thing for her, but she would get a little something to honor Toby

Jack would mourn . Toby used to bring flowers to his mom for Mother’s Day, because Jack couldn’t bare to be in a 10 mile radius of his family. He would try to host something for people, just invite them over and make some food and try to talk and have comfort. Only Natalie and Nina would come by choice, not because the rest don’t care but it’s just something they can’t handle to do. Kate might get dragged along. It would be painful and uncomfortable and probably just result in an argument of sorts, depending on how far along Natalie is in the grieving process . He would visit the grave Brian made for toby quite often.

Nina would be constantly crying, all the time. She’s had shitty men after shitty men in her life, the only good guys she’s had were her father and brother and she went ahead and left them behind to go seek out Jeff - but Toby was good(to a point, obviously). He was rough around the edges but he was protective, he took care of her, he defended her even if she didn’t deserve it. She and Natalie would probably have a few intense arguments because they’re two sides of the same coin in their grieving , with Natalie having constant explosive anger and Nina having long, drawn out grieving and sobbing. It would be a bit much for both of them. She would mope around her apartment for a long while.

BEN would also be pretty sad, but not nearly as much as the rest. He would talk it out with Jeff but wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t mourn , would just keep going. Jeff wouldn’t give a shit, would say it was bound to happen and to move on

Ann and Lulu would be pretty bummed out too, but Ann moves on pretty quickly. For Ann it’s more so a sad “Aw but he was fun”… lulu is too lost in her own head to spend too much time on it, but she’s undeniably sad when she’s reminded

Sally would also be sad, but similarly to BEN, she would move on. Cry to Jane about it and cope. Jane would think it’s sad, but she wouldn’t dwell on it either - she wasn’t close to him, she only knew him in passing whenever Sally got lost in the forest.

Liu doesn’t know Toby well so he wouldn’t think much, but Nina would cry to Liu about it a lot and it would be pretty depressing for him too. Just by watching how it affects Nina

[scoobydoodean]

Thinking about 4.11 “Family Remains” and how Dean keeps insisting to Brian (the dad) that he will save Brian’s family—that he will put himself at risk for them and he will find Danny.

Eventually, Brian asks Dean straight up why he cares so much—why he's willing to put himself at such risk for them. Dean doesn’t get to answer.

We know from the start of the episode that Dean has been hunting non-stop to cope with his trauma. That's made pretty obvious at the beginning of the episode:

SAM: What are you doing? DEAN: What's it look like I'm doing? SAM: Like you're looking for a job. DEAN: Yahtzee. SAM: We just finished a job like two hours ago. DEAN: Adrenaline's still pumping, I guess. So, what do you think... Cedar Rapids, Tulsa, or Chi-Town? SAM: I am all for working. I really am. But you got us chasing cases nonstop for like a month now. We need sleep. DEAN: Yeah, we can sleep when we're dead. SAM: You're exhausted, Dean. DEAN: I'm good. SAM: No, you're not. You're running on fumes, and you can't run forever. DEAN: And what am I running from? SAM: From what you told me. Or are we pretending that never happened?

We've seen this behavior from Sam before too—Sam pushing back to back hunts in 1.19-1.20 to cope with his anger, and in 2.11 (due to guilt over Ava) and in 2.19 to deal with Madison's death, and in 3.11 to deal with Dean's (temporary) death. We'll see it in the future too—the brothers displaying a need to work to get through something.

So it’s easy to say Dean is simply pushing himself to "be the hero" in 4.11 because of guilt about Hell and leave it at that. I do think Dean believes in atonement (we get hints about this in 4.05), but I think the reason Dean insists on being the person to jump down in the first hole they find instead of Ted, and then insists on going down the second compartment to find Danny when Brian is ready to do it, is also because Dean has a feeling they're going to have to kill this girl, and however scary she may be—however violent—she's also a victim of horrific abuse, and taking a life is always a serious thing. So Dean's trying to spare Brian from that trauma.

Dean doesn’t want Brian to have to take a life and (no matter how justified the kill) feel like a monster. Dean already does feel like a monster (no matter how justified his actions were, no matter how understandable it was because it was born from decades of torture... he still feels and deals with terrible guilt). So Dean takes on the highest risks and puts himself on the front line, upping the chance that if anyone has to do any killing tonight, it'll be him.

Dean does end up killing the boy in the walls in self defense, and the camera focuses on Dean staring at his body as Sam enters, while a sad theme plays in the background, and then we get this look from Dean:

This is the first time in the series that either brother kills a human (besides a demon meatsuit) and a teenager at that, so there's a special weight to it.

But Brian still ends up killing the girl in the walls immediately after this, and that scene is one of the more horrifying ones, because it's shot in a way that casts Brian as the monster lurking in the dark.

Earlier in the episode, we establish the horror of the anticipation of having ones legs grabbed.

DEAN finds a hole in the floor and looks through. TED: You're not going down there. DEAN: Well, do you want to? TED says nothing. DEAN starts down. DEAN: Please nobody grab my leg. Please nobody grab my leg.

And when Brian attacks the girl in the walls, from the perspective of his wife Susan and his daughter Kate, all we see is the girl suddenly get dragged out into the dark by the legs.

Then we focus on Susan and Kate as they listen in terror to the sound of her screaming as she's stabbed over and over and over.

When Brian knocks on the door they jump and scream.

After Susan opens the door for Brian, she backs away from him almost warily.

They see the knife—the blood on his hands and clothes.

Brian saved them, but he's shot as the monster who reaches out and grabs you by the legs. We cast the girl in the walls as a smaller monster (ultimately just a child who can easily be overpowered) snatched up in the jaws of a much bigger fish. All despite the fact that Brian did what he had to do.

SAM: You okay? DEAN: You know, I felt for those sons of bitches back there. Lifelong torture turns you into something like that. SAM: You were in hell, Dean. Look, maybe you did what you did there, but you're not them. They were barely human. DEAN: Yeah, you're right. I wasn't like them. I was worse.

[agendabymooner]

odds || pg10 fic

“I’m never giving up against all odds.”

pierre gasly x ofc (88rising!singer!ofc)

EXTENSION TO NEWSFLASH (SEQUEL OF) AND LOWKEY (PREQUEL OF)

Summary: Her songs told a story about how her courtship with Pierre Gasly went and ended in a happy note. OR their timing wasn't always right— that was what she thought as she continued to think that their situationship’s downfall would happen sooner or later. 

Content warning: Based on Niki’s EP, wanna take this downtown. No specific date is used for the release of her music. Use of explicit language, situationship scenarios, miscommunication, OFC being set up, Pierre being a dry texter, only uses a partner’s name (nothing too personal- just a passing comment), a bit angst but has a happy ending (?), indented texts are lyrics

Note: I’m not sure if my taglist would like to read this but I’m adding them into the list just in case :)) enjoy xx

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This has got to be a joke. The universe fuckin’ hates my guts.  Remindin’ me ‘U’ and ‘I’ don’t spell ‘us.’

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Heeeey!!! My brain is soooo fried today and Brian decided to fuck up my computer. Now I’m just here doing nothing but hope that my dear tech works in the next hour. Sent at 10:21 PM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): How r u??? I hope you’re not training too hard and you’re hydrating :) Sent at 10:25 PM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Good morning, Ens. Have 2 train sadly ttyl ;) Sent at 8:31 AM

Well wasn’t that fucking sad, Ensley huffed out quietly to herself as she wished to throw her phone against the wall. They’ve been in what… two dates?

Well, two in-person dates and three unofficial FaceTime dates with shitty takeouts in front of them. Not that she counted; she could have sworn she did not like him that much. 

She wasn’t sure who she was lying to more, though. But just as she continued to deny that she hadn’t looked at her phone every thirty seconds, she was feeling more pathetic. 

What was it about men and why did she continue to give them all a chance? All they do was fuck it up and Ensley was going insane at the thought that the cycle of being with the shittiest men ever wasn’t broken. 

“All I know is suddenly without you, the bed feels too big… That’s good. Good job Henny.”

“Trying to find where your head is but I’m losing myself in the process— no wait, tryna,” she muttered to herself before scratching out the first word of her chorus. 

She thought that songwriting was a way to distract herself from the Pierre fiasco. Everyone said so, as well. They thought that if she kept her head straight she’d be able to think of inspiration and clearly they were right. 

Her friends, Brian and Joji, were laughing at the fact that the said inspiration was the same person they tried to distract her from. 

Pierre Gasly. The man who continued to travel as the Formula One season went on while Ensley remained in Los Angeles. Pierre was the man that the Indonesian woman had been thinking about day after day, his charming personality filling that empty space in her head after he asked if she’d be more than willing to take their relationship to the next level. 

He did warn her about his busy schedule, which Ensley was grateful for. What he hadn’t told her, though, was that he’d eventually drive her insane because of the lack of texts he’d send as time went on— all thanks to his schedule. 

The first month of their situationship was great. He managed to call her and asked if she had supper or whatever meal it was she had to eat in her time zone. He’d often eat his food just as she’d munch on whatever she had that day— sharing conversations while they took a break from whatever the fuck they were doing. 

Hell, Ensley also managed to take the international railways to Rome to meet with him. They were getting along so well that she cuddled with him in his bed twice. 

But in the second month? Fuck, she wasn’t sure anymore. Perhaps it was because it’s the last month of the racing season and everybody’s scrambling to make their way up to the World Driver’s Championship rankings— that included the Frenchman. 

She could understand how busy it is for Pierre and she did what she could to not hover around him. But she was missing him terribly— him and his sex jokes and his never ending storytelling. What could she do? Nothing. She didn’t have any form of label but a situationship with him. 

“You come see me only when I ask first. When you kiss me— do you wish it were her?” 

“—That’s bullshit,” Brian exclaimed as he stood by the oven of Ensley’s open kitchen. Ensley glared at him, and her friend (Brian’s girlfriend) Vanntey smacked him lightly as a warning. Brian gave his girlfriend a questioning look and stated, “Boy Baguette didn’t even kiss her yet! Henny, don’t put that in if this song is about Pierre. That’s just full on delusional.”

“Who says it’s about him?” Vanntey asked with a scoff before telling Ensley, “Henny— your song, not Brian’s. Do whatever the hell you want.”

“At least someone’s sensible enough,” Ensley murmured before turning back to her notepad. Her Twitter notification, one that she intentionally left opened, made a noise as she glanced down at the “related tweet” notification. The post and the responses that came with it were… baffling to say the least.

We share different postal codes Maybe that’s why I never got the memo; She’s the real deal, and I was just a pretty demo.

ensleygaslysoz: y’all— pierre’s ex was at the paddock today 😭😭

peargaslit: nooooo~ YOU CANNOT SAY THAT!!! IM ROOTING FOR HIM AND HENNY!!! 

misskikagasly: ok but they were cute as hell b4 tho 🫠 no h8 to ensley but kika was the shit and i think they should get back together

Ensley’s shoulders slumped at the comments. God’s timing was always wrong, and she’s never hated anything more than the fact that she was actually besotted and in love with Pierre Gasly.

And chances are that he was just waffling about taking their relationship to another level. Men lied to Ensley endlessly, and if she didn’t know any better— she would’ve fallen harder than she did with him. 

And yet my world remains the whole of you to this day. Doesn’t matter what my location says. I’m always tryna get to you.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you going to be in London sometime soon? I will be back in Milan and I’d like to stay in with you :) Text me when you get this Sent at 12:31 AM

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Can’t. Sorry— Still in the process of producing an EP :) looking forward to chatting soon Sent at 12:32 AM

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Likewise. Sent at 2:01 AM

When I'm there, you're not You're here, I'm caught up with my job And your clingy ex comes back a lot Then she leaves and you shoot your shot  But there's someone new I've got

The 88rising studio was where she stayed most of the time now. With the record label releasing an album with their artists, Ensley’s time was taken up by her work as she continued to produce four songs with them. 

That and her own EP took up her entire schedule, thus furthering her communication line with the Alpine driver. 

So much for a good situationship. 

“You wrote this song, Hen,” Isaac — one of the songwriters — told her with a shrug, “he lives in Milan, right? Instead of, I mean, Manhattan’s nice, why don’t you put, Milan is nice?” 

“They have good sunsets in NY,” she murmured quietly. “Look— let’s not talk about him. He’s got his business— this is mine.”

“Your EP so far shows that you’re writing about him,” Isaac replied. “By the way, you’ve got one more to write if you want to have four tracks.” 

“Eventually,” Ensley responded with a wave, her shoulders sagging before her sight moved from the screen of her laptop to the door that swung open. 

Brian walked in with a shit-eating grin, he was followed by Jackson Wang who carried, Ensley could’ve sworn, the biggest bouquet that could’ve ever existed. And just as Jackson walked towards her with a huge smile, her eyes scanned the set and the white card that contrasted with it. 

Dahlias and daisies. She never even mentioned it to anyone before.

Then she remembered a conversation she had about flower markets. She loved Los Angeles, but she couldn’t help but swoon over those Pinterest boards full of flower markets in Italy. 

She tried to romanticize her life in the UK before, but when she flew out to Milan once to see the beauty of it? Nothing could compare to Italy. She remembered telling Pierre that— how she’d kill to have the prettiest flowers in her flat that came straight from the market. 

“What kind of flowers do you like, then?” Pierre asked, amused at the sight of her swooning as she continued to squeal at the photo. 

“If I were to get my photos taken like this? Ugh,” Ensley grinned from ear to ear, “daisies? There’s just something about daisies that makes me think of I dunno… summer? I love the sun— I’m sure you can understand that. You live in Milan.”

“I do.”

“And what else? Huh… Dahlia!” Ensley exclaimed. “It’s just a nice name, no?” 

“I agree,” Pierre said thoughtfully before repeating the word, “dahlia, dahlia, dahlia… It’s a pretty name, indeed.” 

À la plus jolie fille, was intricately written on the envelope as her stomach fluttered at the name. He always called her that for whatever reason, and she eventually learned why. 

“Pretty girl,” Ensley translated the writing as she thanked Jackson, holding the bouquet before placing it down on the table. Her hand eventually grabbed onto the card and pulled out the letter. She didn’t care about her friends as they watched her expectantly. 

Her eyes remained on the letter. 

“My Collette,

This is not bought to make up for my absence, but to remind you that you are as cherished as the bright flowers in this bouquet. I hope you’re taking care of yourself, ma jolie fille.

While I cannot speak to you, I’ll continue to think about you.

XO,

Your Linguini.”

“Your— your Linguini?!” Jackson gasped from behind her, making her turn around as she watched Brian wheeze in laughter. 

The glare that she gave the two left Jackson to shut his mouth and Brian to continue his teasing. Regardless of what the singer just watched, Jackson shook himself out of his thoughts and asked, “Are you gonna text him?” 

But she already did. Long before Jackson could even comment. 

Her eyes scanned on the text message she sent Pierre, knowing full well that he wouldn’t text back a minute or so later.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): They’re the prettiest. Thank you, Remy ❤️ Sent at 3:21 PM.

'Cause I know you've got somebody My friends say I could have anybody now that I'm somebody But I don't care if I'm nobody to you, oh

She sighed, not knowing if it was out of contention or sadness. All she was getting from him so far was mixed messages, with him having his ex in the paddock and sending the flowers.

He seemed to be happy to be around his ex, and she was still nobody to him but some person he wasn’t really in a relationship with. 

Maybe she should try to shift her attention away from him. Maybe she wouldn’t think a lot about him that way. 

And that was what she did. She stayed in London for a week or so after her other single with 88rising, La La Lost You, was released. She hung out with Will Lenney and his mates. 

She found herself sitting between Harry Lewis (or Wroetoshaw for those he didn’t know well) and Becky James. Harry was newly single and everyone tried to set him up with anyone with a pair of boobs; Ensley was sadly the newest target of their interest. 

But between the two of them, Ensley and Harry’s “not so friendly” interactions were nothing but banters. They wouldn’t hesitate to tell each other that they’d kiss each other on the mouth but they wouldn’t dare let their jokes go as far as touching each other with a ten-foot pole.

Regardless, everyone tried to root for them and getting too drunk meant trouble. Everyone saw what they wanted to see, immediately pulling their phones out to make a post or more about the two as Ensley and Harry cuddled up in the booth. 

“Why do you let the bloody idiot win, Ens?” Harry whined against the ear of the singer, ranting about Pierre as the Guernsey man continued, “I saw the tweets you know? You’re as much of a somebody as he is— don’t let the bloody cunt ruin your life.” 

“Too late, Harold,” Ensley slurred, sipping on her third sangria of the night. She and Harry didn’t even notice Becky nor their other friend Callum recording their interaction in the background, for the two of them were busy bitching to each other. “He’s ruined me- as in ruined me the moment I went to the bloody Grand Prix in Singapore. In a good way though!” 

“Ruin you in a good way,” Harry scoffed, his hand rubbing her back for comfort as he continued, “You’re writing about him. Your fuckin’ EP is all about him— it’s only reserved for those bastards who broke your heart obviously he’s one of them!” 

“No, they’re really not,” Ensley snorted, “my songs are not all about heartbreak nor friends with benefits I fall in love with.”

“Then name one song about loving then.” 

I know it's pathetic but I couldn't care less I'd wait until the stars uncross and say yes I'll always try to get you

Silence.

Harry’s drunken state continued to be a factor in his calling out as he raised a brow, “See? You’re a bad fucking liar, Ensley. You love him and you’re yearning— I can see it on your bloody face. So now you’re writing about how much he’s letting you down.”

She pouted in annoyance and slumped against his chest. Pierre didn’t even know how much she yearned for him. At the wrong time, while you’re at it. But she didn’t care. 

It’s been nearly a week since they last spoke, and their messages consist of nothing but dry responses and simple check-ins. Was it to ensure that the hope for a successful relationship remains intact or to actually make sure that they still had each other to talk to and that they hadn’t gone and talked to other people? Ensley wasn’t sure. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): What are we? Like… really?

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Whatever you would like us to be. And hello too?

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hi. And really? We kept on saying that we’d be making plans but they never happened. It’s like I dunno. We’re avoiding each other because we’re always busy. 

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I know I have to make the effort to come by sometimes, but then… How would you even the odds? I really don’t make an excuse when it comes to heading to London just to take the railways and see you.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I’m not even mad. I’m just saying that my time and heart are yours should they be available. Break my heart as much as you’d like but try to even out these odds— without girls trying to waste your time and mine.

The next day she had woken up with an infuriating headache. Thanks to the sangrias she had and Sambuca shots she was handed, she wasn’t able to get in touch with Pierre as early as she could.

She could, however, strangle Will and the rest of their group for posting those cutesy pictures of herself and Harry while the pair were chatting shit about whatever. Everyone now thought that they were seeing each other. 

“WroetoSoleil? Harry, I'm begging you to bag her already!!!” Said one tweet. 

“This is a sign that the friends-to-lovers trope is real.” 

“Pierre, where you at? Ensley’s being won over by W2S now!” 

“I still have some faith in Pierre and Ensley, tbh.” 

And to be honest, Ensley was still faithful to the two of them too. It’s only a matter of time before she begins to shift to someone else if neither of them makes a move. 

Well… she already made hers. It was his game to play now.

She tried to get on with her day after getting too drunk with her friend’s mates. Her flat in London was surprisingly less than dusty despite being untouched for a while. She supposed that’s what happened when she allowed Will and the other lots to occupy her place whilst she lived in LA. 

Then her attention diverted to her notes, writing down lyrics as she sipped on her homemade tea. 

She hadn’t even realized that she had Pierre muted — out of annoyance — until her phone began to go off. She peered down only to see an unknown number FaceTiming her. 

But it said Monaco at the bottom of the number. She could assume that…

“W- oi! Hello!” 

Never in my damn favour I don’t want you for later Never was much of a waiter.

She was right. It was Lando and a certain Monegasque. This number was Charles Leclerc’s and she was subjected to some bullshit that they were up to. 

“I’m ending the call—“

“Wait- no! Henny, don’t! We have to talk,” Charles started. They weren’t even close yet he called her Henny. Whatever he was trying to say, he was desperate to get it out before she could end her call. 

She sat her phone on the coffee table and crossed her arms, watching the two men scramble as they both sat down.

“We heard about what happened with you and Pierre,” Lando started. “Like how you two haven’t spoken properly and all that…?”

Ensley stared back at them, making the two sigh. They wouldn’t be able to get something out of her and so Charles went on, “He saw that picture and video of you and that guy… What's his name— Harry? Yeah, he saw it and he’s basically just… pouting and all that.”

“Long story short, there’s a lot of miscommunication going on between the two of you,” Lando cut off the Monegasque. “I know you’d never date Harry and we all know that Pierre’s not seeing his ex. The two of you right now are misunderstanding each other— just talk, please. Both of you are sulking and we’re all sick of you two being lovesick and shit.”

“It’s not that easy, you bastard,” Ensley swore, flipping off Lando as she grumbled, “Every time I’m available, he isn’t. Whenever I’m not, he’s coming around asking me to travel to Italy as if I have the money to travel with. I’m not as well off as you guys— and clearly, he isn’t making the same effort as me!” 

“How? He’s sent you a lot of flowers,” Charles pointed out. Ensley smothered her face in the cushion and screamed before she turned back to look at her screen with a grim smile.

“You’ve obviously no concept of making an effort without using a material, and it shows,” Ensley snarked.

“It’s just… he’s never asked me if he can stay over in my flat in London before,” she sighed, “it’s always me who has to adjust. I do appreciate it but at the same time… what about me? What if I can’t make it there and he’s still available? Will it stay like that? Just me hoping for some miracle that he’d come by? It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just tiring having to work hard only to end up with nada.” 

Lando and Charles shared a worried look. Clearly, they didn’t understand her side of the story until now. It wasn’t as if she was painted as a bad person— they genuinely didn’t know how she and Pierre spoke and how the duo treated each other. 

“I’m just so ready to say, ‘Yes, be my boyfriend like I’m begging’ but he’s not there all the time for me to answer it!” Ensley exclaimed in frustration, crossing her arms in annoyance as she slumped against the couch. 

“French boy—“

“I’m Monegasque—“

“Monaco boy, tell your best friend that he’s a piece of shit for making me feel like this—“ Ensley said. “God I just want to see him but at the same time I don’t—!”

“Why?”

“Because I know he wouldn’t even these odds no matter how much he wants to,” Ensley chuckled humourlessly. “I don’t even know if he wants to.”

But I’d wait on you to drink you in

Lando almost glanced in front of them, only nodding along at Ensley’s rants. Meanwhile, Charles stared at Pierre with a raised brow. 

The Frenchman sighed silently. 

He really didn’t want to mess this chance up, but it was too bad some things didn’t like to go in his favour.

Even the odds, indeed.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Hello mon amour, are you still in London? Sent at 8:21 AM.

To Pesky Pierre: Yes… why? Sent at 8:22 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Are you off to somewhere else today? Sent at 8:22 AM.

To Pesky Pierre (Respectful): I— why are you being so cryptic? But no, I’m just staying in. 8:23 AM.

From Pesky Pierre (Respectful): Okay. See you in half an hour :)

When I'm there you should, I don't know, like, call up your boss Probably take the day off Maybe we could change the odds!

Ensley Zara Soleil was never the one for surprises. She loathed them so bad. 

But if surprises came in the form of an Alpine driver often then she was willing to welcome it with open arms. Pierre Gasly stood in front of her flat with a bouquet of dahlias and daisies in hand, his smile brightening her day immediately as Ensley smiled like a fool. 

She’s never felt this great over a man for a long time.

“I’m here to even the odds,” Pierre told her with a grin before it fell into a serious expression as he said, “I’m really sorry if I haven’t tried to do it before. I was the one who pursued you first and I should’ve tried harder—“

“Shh…”

“Pardon?” Pierre gave Ensley a puzzled look. 

And rather than telling to shush once more, Ensley gave him a wide grin and took the bouquet from his hand. The confused look remained on Pierre’s face for a brief moment as she inhaled the scent of the flowers. 

“You’re here now, P,” Ensley told him. “I was wondering what you meant by your text but I’ve been expecting you… for a good while.”

Pierre’s confusion was replaced by a wide smile, pushing his shoulders back as he said, “So… where can I start?” 

Ensley smiled and stepped aside, allowing him to enter her flat as she said, “Come in and have a cuppa. We’ve got a lot of things to catch-up on.” 

Don't care how long it takes,  My heart is yours to break I'm never giving up against all odds

fin.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico

[viscerax]

How to never stop being sad

(Repeat to yourself that they're not really gone)

Tim opens the door to his home, practically throwing his jacket to the floor. He calls out, announcing his arrival. For just a moment he thinks he hears a response. A call from another room. Jay greeting him. Brian welcoming him home. He doesn't really hear it. He knows its not real. But it doesn't matter.

(Time has proven

That fooling yourself into believing a lie

Is the most effective way

To deal with things you have no control over)

__________________________________________

(Keep listening to the mixtapes they made you)

Tim pops the tape into the radio of his shitty car. A compilation of all the songs he and Jay listened to on their 'road trip'. Sometimes it made him sad to listen to them, to think about the bittersweet memories of the man sitting next to him and dumbly singing along, or when they would yell at eachother as the music filled the background.

__________________________________________

(Stay up every single night staring at your phone, Either attempting to gather up the courage, To turn these demons, these constant reminders, Of your loneliness into nothing more than a bad dream)

Tim clutches his phone with conviction. He plays the voice-mails over an over again, as if hearing their voices would bring them back. He listens to Jay's grainy voice asking for a call back, and he let's out a shuddering breath. He knew the man for such a short amount of time, most of which was spent at eachothers necks in an argument. And yet, he felt closer to him than he had with anybody since Brian.

__________________________________________

(Or praying just for one second you could feel

The warmth of equally returned love)

Tim remembers the feeling of Jay's hand slotting into his as he drove. He remembered that look that Jay had in his eyes whenever he was staring at Tim. That look that made Tim feel like he was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. It filled him with a bitter weight. How could he have ever punched this man, this man that looked at him like he was a precious jewel?

Tim remembers the feeling of Brian pressed against him as the two sat on his sofa, away from the publics watchful eye. He remembers Brian's arm around his waist, and his lips on his. He remembers how Brian looked at him the same way that Jay did. He remembers that sweet smile and that adorable tooth gap, and he remembers the feeling of Brian's mustache rubbing against his upper lip as they kissed.

Sometimes he can still feel it, for a fleeting moment he feels a hand in his, or an arm around his waist. And for a moment he thinks 'this is nice.' And then he remembers. And its not nice anymore.

__________________________________________

(Go out for coffee four times a week by yourself)

The baristas have got to think he's the weirdest guy ever. He sits there for hours on end on his days off. The shop is so far away from his home, but he pretends like it isn't. Tells himself he was going to come down here soon anyways, so he might as well. The coffee isn't even good. But he drinks it anyways. He thinks back to when him and Brian were filming that god-forsaken film. He remembers the shoddy dialogue they exchanged out on the wooden steps.

He stays there until closing sometimes. He doesn't even do much. Sits there, spaces out, tries to imagine he's there with Brian, or with Jay, or perhaps both. And the illusion lasts for a bit before its broken by the sound of the bell ringing over the door. He always looks back, always thinks for a moment that he's going to see them standing there. It never happens, but that doesn't stop him from hoping.

__________________________________________

(Talk down on yourself whenever possible

My life is shit because I deserve it, right?)

Your fault. He hears whispers in the night. He knows its his own brain. He knows its himself. He thinks its funny how the human mind betrays itself. He thinks, it must be true, though. To hear it so often.

Tim tried to distance himself from anything to do with the channel. But on particularly lonely nights, he would visit the Twitter page, see the tons of people who made comments, who were trying to solve the whole thing along with them like it was a game.

"I think Tim is responsible for Jay's death. If he hadn't left Jay, he still would've been alive." He read that comment and let out a laugh. At least he wasn't the only one who thought so.

"That was cold of Tim to let Brian fall like that." That one hit Tim. He knew it wasn't true. He knew there was no way to catch him, and he didn't even know it was Brian then. Still. It hurt.

(You must have done something real bad

Its nearly impossible for you to cry now)

__________________________________________

(Avoid your friends for weeks even though

They're the only sense of consistency you have)

He let's the phone ring a few times before finally picking up.

"Hello?" He answers, sounding not-so enthusiastic to be talking to whoever was on the other line.

"Hey, Tim!" Oh great. One of Tim's work friends, Eric's, voice came out of the phone. "You still down to watch the game tonight?" Tim was invited to some football watch party. Tim didn't like football, but the concept of being invited to hang out was nice enough. He said yes at the time, but here he was, sitting on his floor, tears still remnant in his eyes.

"Oh, uhm, no thanks. Got caught up with something. Maybe next time?" There won't be a next time. He knows he can only cancel on so many plans before they get tired of him. But he hears Eric hum in agreement and the two part ways.

__________________________________________

(Allow yourself to lose interest in the things you love)

Tim sets the ukulele down with a discontented sigh. The instrument no longer rested neatly in his hands. He could no longer play the chords so fluidly like he used to. Now, whenever he picks it up, it feels more like a chore. He plucks the strings a bit, but nothing more. He thinks about Jay, and how when he found out that Tim could play the ukulele, he told him that it was "basically a guitar but gayer".

__________________________________________

(Watch as you begin to take a backseat

To the world around you, don't fight it

Become a secondary character in your own motion picture)

His days go by in a blur. Every single moment passing by him like he's watching a film. Every day at work feeling like nothing but a mundane task that he's forced to watch someone else do. At this point, he's not sure he even wants to fix things. He stops seeing his counselor after a few months. She wasn't any help, bless her soul. It's not like it was her fault. You can't fix someone who keeps breaking themselves down.

__________________________________________

(But most importantly

Drown every single one of your feelings

In old stolen rum)

If Tim were at a bar, he surely would have been cut off by now. He was almost done with the bottle. He could barely see straight, and he knew he was going to have one hell of a hangover tommorow.

(Learn to love the taste of it dripping down your throat)

It burns. And it tastes gross. Tim is reminded why he never drinks everytime he takes a shot. But it doesn't matter. The burn is good, right? It makes him feel good, his brain fuzzy. It clouds his mind and yet makes him feel so much at the same time.

(Find comfort in the warmth coming from your stomach

You're drinking bottled love now)

__________________________________________

(You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness

You just needed to find a way to talk to it)

[i-am-the-oyster]

I was just listening to that 3 hour rolling stone interview with John and it honestly surprised me with how homophobic he was being. Saying things like “ I think mick’s a joke with all that fag dancing” and “I hope it’s ( working class hero ) for workers and not tarts and fags). Do you think that was a major projection of himself after the fall out with Paul ? cause correct if I’m wrong but I don’t remember john ever saying anything like that before that interview. Love to here your thoughts on what would be possibly going through Johns mind.

Oh nonny it's so sad, isn't it? From a modern perspective it seems so obvious that John was queer, but he clearly struggled with it. (More in some periods than in others).

There are lots of accounts of John making homophobic jokes at Brian's expense, though it's impossible for us to know how much of that was good-natured ribbing. But you're right, the statements from Lennon Remembers are viscous and not typical of John.

When he did that Rolling Stone interview he was fresh out of Primal Scream therapy. Janov was homophobic, even by the standards of the time, and I personally believe John was trying to use PST as "conversion" therapy (see this great post). I actually suspect he (and George?) might have been trying to use Transcendental Meditation for that purpose too.

Was he trying to "fix" himself because of the breakup, or was the breakup caused by the desire and/or attempts to "fix" himself? Who knows Yoko?

My personal headcanon is that Paul has always been more comfortable with his own queerness, and with keeping his queerness secret. Where John swung from wanting to own it and declare it publicly, to wanting to rid himself of it. You could easily see how that would be a source of tension between them, even if they weren't romantically involved.

This is such a sad topic. Let's think about John randomly kissing Paul's friend in public instead!

[paperstorm]

idc if it sounds delusional or naive but i am going to stay positive until someone in a suit who looks like an official spokesperson announces in a live press conference in front of the white house that lone star is cancelled. and then and only then will i believe that it's really over.

jokes aside as you already said this back and forth is insane and i just don't understand why they do that. the fact that ronen posted a sad picture in his story today doesn't really give me confidence but as you already said brian said literally 2 days ago that nothing is decided so what could possibly have happened in the past 48 hours that changed anything?? like the only numbers that we currently have is social media engagement and every single lone star post on the fox insta gets thousands more likes then any of the other shows they talk about and they talk about the other shows way more then about lone star like hello we're 3 weeks away from the premiere where is the promo stuff?? i was always sort of fine with the lack of promo bc rafa said that a lot of things are happening in s5 that they don't want to spoil but we already know that carlos is a ranger, wyatt is the new dispatcher and grace is gone - like what bigger thing than that could they be hiding that they don't want to release stills/videos?? and even if it really is the last season (and also i have some hope that maybe they know it's the last season on fox but there is hope that another network picks up ls??) you could still put in some effort my god fox get your shit together. anyways with all the emotions running high (understandably) thank you for stating facts and being one of the positive voices.

I don’t even know if it’s optimism for me as much as it’s just … I don’t draw conclusions based on evidence this wobbly and unclear. I do research for a living it’s not in my nature I guess 😂 I couldn’t present a mess like this to a client and expect them to be able to take it to court. There’s been so much back and forth and misinformation and contradicting facts the last few months that I just don’t know what to think. Which is highly annoying and I wish the powers that be would get their shit together and stop toying with us and with the cast.

[lakesbian]

TBH I've always responded to people I follow having painfully bad takes by sending them anons with worse versions of their takes in the hopes that it'll reverse psychology them into having bad takes. sometimes it works in the short term but like. obviously not this time lmao; wasn't putting my best efforts in this time. anyway I realize at this point I'm a sunglasses-wearing clown honking sad insults at you from a gutter I have withered away into but like. pretty unserious of you to say "it is very possible to talk things thru if u actually give me a conversation to work with instead of a brusque worst-case assumption about me lmao" about an interaction you initiated by accusing a stranger of misogyny on extremely dubious grounds. IMO

yeah that only works if the person receiving it has no actual preexisting opinion and is just passively reacting to whatever is set in front of them. i think the main disagreement here is really just about the dubiousness--i don't know about you guys but i am not exaggerating when i say that my hour long journeys through the parahumans subreddit in desperate search for good crumbs of art have led to me seeing at least a dozen or more posts about taylor being awful/manipulative/power-hungry/etc, incl. many comparisons to walter white (unsure why comparing her to walter white is a genre of parahumans post), and elaboration on ops reason for seeing her that way has Never Not Been Misogynist. i.e. its never not been treating her highly uncharitably compared to male characters using misogynistic language in a way actually comically similar to brians in text misogynistic accusation that she's intentionally trying to outperform the rest of them to make them reliant on her (when in reality shes just a woman who is more competent than him and he feels threatened by that).

so from my perspective the language used in the post in question was, like, a blaring red siren level of indicator in terms of its similarity to other posts I've seen use that phrasing and then go on to reveal a deeply misogynist thought process behind it. if i was wrong in assuming it was part of that pattern then good, i would love 2 eat crow on finding out smth i thought was likely coming from a place of prejudice was actually just regular wrong and not wrong (shitty). big fan of when things are not actually misogynist. but whether or not i was right aside i hope it makes sense why it read as a fairly common sense leap to me based on my prior experiences. (and on a tangentially related note, op liked my response clarifying that i was suspicious of implicit misogyny and explaining why, so i doubt that they're even particularly offended by it)

[asmodeus-archives]

Sentimental Moment In Your Arms

SMIYA- Maylor Fic Teaser + Explanation

This fic is a pre? PRE apology for a future fic in ‘the works’ “Don’t You Hear My Call” <which is a sad/angst fic I suppose it’s very upsetting either way) like WE apologize ahead of time if yall do read Don’t You Hear My Call when it comes out.

Sentimental Moment In Your Arms - (taken from the lyrics of One Year Of Love - A Kind Of Magic)

[tags will be included when we actually post it, but it does have some innuendos to sex but is very fluffy with some angst we guess]

[quick note, my friend and I snagged a new writing buddy for us, he’s given us a lot of ideas and new ways to write and even written some scenes for us for this fic. The dynamics of this new third member is I am the main writer, Aj is the beta reader and poem writer, G is our newest second writer who checks up my work and has written LAVISHING scenes for this fic and Don’t You Hear My Call]

—- “He’s having another one, isnt he dear?” Freddie’s voice nearly stung into Brian as the curly haired male hadn’t noticed Freddie was awake enough to notice, but looking toward him, he could tell Freddie hadn’t exactly been asleep either- it was almost like the two had become their loves sentry’s over the tours and years together, protecting and watching over Roger and John for any sign of distress to be there and even watched over each other at times with being the eldest two.

“They seem to be constant on tours.” Brian’s features furrowed at his own words, he knew it wasn’t just the tours themselves- maybe for the most part- it was the pressure from management and even the fans to keep the shows hot, entertaining and lavish. His hand still twirls a few locks of blond to keep Roger grounded in some way, even while deep in sleep.

“You need to sleep too darling, you already know that though.” Freddie reminded, almost like a parent scolding a child- after all he was the eldest of the four it was more or less a given he must act as such- not all the time though since Brian had always been the more mature one in perspectives.

“I know. At night it’s peaceful, with no distractions for a while at least, which gives me time to truly think clearly and understand how far we’ve come… how we’ve gone from scrappy college kids to here.” Brian hummed, it had been only seven or so years since he first met Roger- five years since Deaky became their permanent bassist- three years since Deaky and Freddie finallt bloody stopped with those longing looks, wishful words, teasing and all that to finally confess, and in that same year- Roger had come to him in the flat Brian shared with Freddie while the latter had been out with John- how that memory came back was quick and vivid- he hadn’t thought of that night in a few weeks, even now he felt that pang in his chest from seeing those once blazing blue eyes having lost any real life more of like a blank stare with no hint of a realization about what was infront of him —-

This should be out actually late tonight or well early morning, assumably 1:30 am based on schedules and packing. So 12 hours from this post .

[effyeffa]

a comprehensive list of (almost) all of my spotify playlists, sorted by theme

category 1: a bit of everything.

every feeling everywhere all at once opened by brian eno, closed by mitski, in between an eclectic mix of everything to scream cry and dance to  essentials. as the title suggests this is the music that makes up the foundation of my identity. funkadelic, air, spiritualized, y la bamba, weyes blood etc etc multitudes: similar idea but older. more hip hop in there, a little time capsule of 2017

seasonal playlists: these are closed chapters that won’t be altered

forbidden fruit february. self explanatory. aquarius season is for yearning and getting messy, thanks fiona apple idlings of march is when spring begins again, just barely but there’s a careful joy spreading. joyful tunes! this must be the place! spring has sprung and continues springing. instrumental interludes as standalone songs, everything sounds like water. the time that we wasted just hit like a wave begin again, another spring playlist. this time with childish gambino, laura marling, hayley williams, guns’n’roses, the classic combo april flowers. short and sweet, alice phoebe lou meets car seat headrest slowly come the saints of summer. do you remember when st vincent said daddy’s home well i made a whole playlist about it. mika is in there. genuinely no idea what was going on that summer. never ending summer, this IS the season of the witch. we love a strange mix of oldies and french and german new wave  i can’t believe summer is over and oh it’s so sentimental, it’s a cherry-coloured funk winter walking. it’s giving phoebe bridgers in the graveyard, mountain goats, springsteen, mother mother winter fruits: the first big thief singles off their latest album came out and sent me down this particular spiral. frankie cosmos and mitski, niche italian indie pop

playlists i still edit/add to, first: good moods.

still you. skinshape, biig piig, kadhja bonet, julia jacklin autobahn, a roadtrip playlist, best friends laughing, mostly italian 70s/80s many moons ago: it’s pop! it’s happy things! silly goofy times golden hour! an old one. started this in 2018, sylvan esso was big, king krule, her’s, clairo will you always love like this? dream pop. lesbianism. st south.  everyday’s a holiday: okay kaya and rex orange county, steve lacy vibes maybe i wasn’t there: kendrick, dijon, rosalía come on over & do the twist. they’re love songs. aching with nostalgia but happy coffee in bed is teetering on the edge between a lovely warm soup of emotions and desperate yearning clear the fog is where the yearning begins in earnest.

moody moods.

free drinks at the local bar, we’ve got mac demarco, the strokes, girlpool. you know the drill take me for a spin: something of a continuation of free drinks a few years later now including sam cohen, kevin morby. sad-ish music that still works if played in public ring: odes to being happysad on public transport in berlin, short and sweet peel you like a fruit. THEE playlist of psychological warfare.  i would be an electrician: if you enjoy julien baker’s happy to be here, the following ten tracks might do similar damage to your psyche  no more bad news from my jorja smith phase, also greentea peng, arlo parks gloomy. it’s the end of the world, sharon van etten said, and love is a losing game, and there’s stormy weather and love will tear us apart.  calm there’s definitely a flatsound track in there. be warned.  

and here’s three completely new ones, works in progress, not yet categorised:

touch. a very specific moment in time. listening to beach house and rhye with all my friends on a big couch, drifting off together, crying a little, holding on tightly all the in between: the only place that matters is by your side, mama you’ve been on my mind, only the strong survive, don’t think twice it’s alright. songs that transcend time and space transitional. seeing angels in everything

already this post is way too long. i have so many playlists, my god. i have a whole folder sorted by genre, one by decade, more by concepts and themes. i’m currently sorting through everything and thought i’d share my process, maybe you’ll find something for yourself new in my chaos :)

[primal-slayer]

 2002 Charmed S4 finale Kern interview

"I am very tired," says "Charmed" executive producer Brad Kern. "I masochistically wrote and directed the season finale. I don't know what I was thinking. I'm actually in the editing room right now, looking at it. We're almost there." The Thursday-night drama about the Halliwell sisters, good witches in San Francisco, has been in a rebuilding phase all year. Last season's finale set up the death of eldest sibling Prue, played by Shannen Doherty, who left the show. To fill the gap, Kern introduced indie-film actress Rose McGowan as Paige, the long-lost half-sister of surviving witches Piper and Phoebe (Holly Marie Combs, Alyssa Milano).

Much of the season focused on the integration of Paige into her new family -- and her efforts to cope with her newfound magical powers -- along with the romantic and supernatural complications of Phoebe and her half-demon lover, Cole (McMahon). At the same time, Piper has been dealing with the travails of married life with Leo (Brian Krause), the sisters' "Whitelighter," or supernatural guide. Despite all the ups and downs, Kern promises the family remains intact through the final episode. "I think it's safe to say that this season ends on a positive note," he says. "I think we owe that to the fans. It was pretty dark last year, so all the sisters survive this year." Near as Kern can tell, the audience likes the new addition. "The audience seems to be reacting favorably to Paige. I feel like, with all the darkness we've had to deal with through the middle and end of this season, with the Cole-Phoebe saga, Rose's wacky, fun, bright-light personality helps keep the show in balance." "I've been very happy with her. I think she's integrated very well with Alyssa and Holly, both on and off the set." Off-camera, McGowan had to adjust to the demands of series television, including working more hours per day for more months out of the year. "She was limping and spewing oil and crawling last November," Kern says. "She and I had a long conversation when we hired her. I told her it's a marathon, not a sprint, and that's the biggest difference." "I was a little concerned about her in November, because she was exhausted, beat. But she found a way to figure it out. I think one of the reasons why her performance has improved steadily each and every episode is because of her pacing herself emotionally and physically."

"She ends the season no more tired or exhausted than the other two girls, so she's done a miraculous job." As far as the Cole-Phoebe romance goes, the witch and the demon have faced almost every kind of natural and supernatural challenge over the course of the season, including facing down (or giving in to) ultimate evil. "We've honored the Cole-Phoebe love story," Kern says. "Our mantra is always the same -- no matter what happens between the two of them or separately, their love shines through everything. Love, we hope, will conquer all, and that's that we've held true to."

"I'm a big romantic. The Cole-Phoebe story is one of my favorite parts of the show. It's a tragic love story, but love stories are. It's sad that he's got this evil DNA that keeps him from being able to shed it completely to fully realize and have a normal love life with Phoebe, but that's the tragedy."

"He loves her, and she loves him, and they keep trying to find a way, and they will keep trying to find a way. They'll just have to be a different way."

Despite the big wedding episode, don't expect happily ever afters. "You can't stay married to a demon for very long," Kern says. "There will be a parting of the ways. That doesn't mean that they love each other any less, and that's the tragedy."

"As we move toward the end of the season, Phoebe will have tried it every way possible. She will have tried it with him not having [demon] powers, tried it with him having powers, tried it on the good side, and tried it on the dark side. There won't be another way to try it. She's going to have to move on with her life, and that means without Cole."

"Cole's going to have other ideas about that."

As to whether this means supernatural divorce proceedings, Kern says, "Without giving too much away, Cole won't be coming from that place next year, but that's where the surprise will be. He will be coming from a different place, a new place. There's good, there's evil and then there's a third way."

After last year's cliffhanger finale, Kern decided to call on an old friend for a little help in getting through this year's closer. As a former supervising producer on the short-lived FOX cult series "The Adventures of Brisco County Jr." he turned to that show's star -- also the star of the "Evil Dead" feature films -- to play an FBI agent in the May 16 episode.

"I called Bruce Campbell up to guest-star in the episode I wrote and directed. He's great. Bruce rocks. We're going to let him direct an episode next year as well. Alyssa and he did a movie together several years ago, so they knew each other. It was just a riot on the set. We all had a lot of fun."

Regarding next year, Kern says, "With Paige having been fully embraced by her sisters, and with a whole year of being a witch under her belt, and with Cole and Phoebe's relationship being somewhat resolved, [and now that] Piper and Leo have something to look forward to, we look at next year as a rebirth."

"Though there are some looming questions and looming evils, I really wanted to end the season on a positive note. It was time to get back to the light and use that as a springboard for next year." https://www.antoniogenna.net/streghe/stampa/estera/zap2it-s4.htm

[winderlylandchime]

(1/2)The man came inside after a cigarette break, jumped right into 2x14, saw Justin dancing on the bar, paused the episode and went outside for another smoke. So i think he is handling it well. He is now back and his immediate reaction is ‘THIS IS BULLSHIT! Why are they making him do this, i know its his own doing BUT COME ON.. OH SO THEY KNOW WHAT HAPPENED? My dudes, my bros, my mens..why aren’t we throwing punches yet?..oh Brian is pissed off! Why doesnt he say something? what is that freak of a fuck giving him? JUSTIN DONT TAKE ANY DRUGS FROM HIM’ *pauses the tv on Brian* ‘see the problem is that he looks very pretty when he is in a bad mood’ *throws his hands up in the air* ‘PICKLE GUY!!!!!!!! Oh pickle guy and Emy are going on a world trip!! I can’t wait! Theyre gonna have so much fun…oh she’s still being a bitch to Ben? Man fuck her, i thought she was better with him?’…’oh Brian knows about his classes! I swear i am totally normal about this! But like, i didnt even know my own classes but Brian knows Justins? Oh Brian is angry.. good for him! I like this! I mean I don’t like the Justin part but i do like Brian being all for his education and shit. That’s nice! I want more of that but less of that other shit.’ ‘I thought we wrapped up with cop bullshit? Why the hell is he here? Yeah, what are you doing her- SAY WHAT NOW? HE ASKED WHAT NOW? exactly debbie! Tell him! WE *points to her and himself* do not date or fuck cops!’ He high fived debbie on tv bc he’s happy she turned doen the cop..’brian actually showed up for Emmetts going away at work? I LOVE EMY AND BRI BRI!!! Oh for fucks sake justin! Just take the fucking money! You arent doing a very good job at looking out for yourself right now, that man is an evil evil little freak! And Brian clearly knows it!’ And the scene with Vic and Debbie is up. ‘exactly Debbie, he is a homophobe!! VIC MY BOY WHAT? HE DIDNT MAKE A TINY JOKE HE MADE A BAD JOKE! He doesnt need enlightening, what he needs is my foot so far up his ass his own mom can feel it! Why is vic being dumb? At least debbie knows he’s a homophobe. VIC STOP THIS MADNESS!’ ‘Oh look Justin remembered he has a school! Its Brian! I like this, i would like more of them hanging out. Justin doing his homework and Brian being with him. AFTER HOURS PARTY?! Absolutely not! Oh Brian knows this is bad news. Brian please stop this madness! *pauses tv on Justin* dude, me and Brian are trying so hard to get to you and you won’t listen to either one of us and honestly, it’s not cute!’ And now he is groaning loudly because Debbie is going on a date. ‘The problem i have is, this would be a cute moment if he wasn’t a…you know *said in a very disapproving way* a cop. OH THE FUCKING IRONY OF MIKE AND OH MY FUCKING GOD I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IT OH MY GOD OH MY GOD SHE IS A HYPOCRITE OF A WHOLE NEW LEVEL. Oh fuck her times 70.’ And now the plane scene is up and i am not ready ‘AHHH PICKLE GUY AND EMY ARE ON A TRIP!! I need them to give me a cute little montage of them having cute moments all over the world! Like some italian music that’s upbeat and just random snapshots of them! YES I WANT THAT! Ohhhh they are gonna get down and dirty in the bathroom!! Gross but have fun babies, you deserve it!’ He is currently scoffing at everything Carl says ‘Debbie.. come on. You cant even look at Ben and say hi to him and you see nothing wrong with Car- oh thats why she said into him, theyre the same. Assholes!’ I am not ready for whats about to happen, i always get sad but i am not ready for this. ‘Oh look at them going at it! Hell yeah Pickle Guy and Emy live your best lif-*he is genuinely on the verge of tears* pickle guy?..pickle..? Is he. noooooooooooo PICKLE GUY! *he is actually crying at this point* PICKLE GUY NO! What about the world trip! And italy! And cute montage! Pickle’ He is genuinely sad and honestly same.

OH POOR BROTHER ANON, mourning the loss of Pickle Man (do not let him eat a pickle in his memory).

Your brother is right - We Do Not Fuck Cops in this house. ACAB. He’s going to be very disappointed in Debbie (again)

I love that he and Brian are now a team trying to get Justin to listen to reason.

Okay… let’s get to the next one because a couple of us have been wondering how Brother Anon was going to respond to Justin topping…

[goremet-chef]

a song i was looking forward to for like a year came out and its just as good as i hoped it would be, but i realized im like? different now?

it just reminded me of the pain that was caused to me before, i used to think about him every single day. blushing, nauseous, angry, crying. it didnt matter how, it was always HIM in my head and it made me so sick. that i couldnt stop thinking about someone so disgusting because he was mine yknow? he was disgusting to me, so what does it matter?

it reminded me of how i needed to beg for any kind of attention or. ANYTHING. he wanted to use me and i was gonna let him, all he had to do was put a little work in cuz im unfortunately very easy, but unsurprisingly he did not! and im thankful honestly ive never been so?

i genuinely thought it was a scar that would haunt me forever, and it does, but i dont THINK of it daily anymore. i dont think of him, its over now. ill carry that pain, but each passing day i care less and less. i didnt think id ever find happiness, i thought till the day i died, id be burning with anger and hatred and regret, but im not

im okay, and it makes me kinda sad in some way? like i love this song, it really captures the shit i went thru well but im just.. over him now. theres no longer this need to drown my sorrow in music for hours like i did before, and i mean. why should i give someone like HIM time in my head? he fucking sucks! i hope yr doing absolutely miserably rn brian, i hope all those stupid problems you told me about when you refused to listen to any of MY problems finally collapsed in on you. i hope its all sunk, cuz yr hopeless. you dont see wrong because you relish in it, you enjoy being disgusting and you dont even have the capacity to apologize for a CRIME, let alone the pain it caused.

the last things he said to me in like . fuck? early 2022? he told me it was unhealthy to hold on to all that anger (when have you ever really cared about my health) but fuck you :] im gonna stay mad and burning, and the best part is im happy doing it. ive been doing great recently, i couldnt ask for more. you used to be everything, now you are nothing to me. and its yr own fault people dont like you. its YOU. you are fucking unbearable. imagine sucking so hard that you could literally push away someone who wouldve kissed the ground you walked on 💀

[bogusboxed]

Boxtober -  Day 1:"What If's" Are Dangerous"

Day 1: -Brian Thomas X GN!Reader Wearing each other's clothes x “I chose you.”

-I do not own "Brian Thomas" and do not take credit for him.

-

You sat on the hard, uneven wooden flooring as you watched the time tick by. Every passing minute was a moment closer to having Brian rant at you about what you were doing wrong. Whether it was just about wasting time or just being flat-out lazy. You didn’t add much to the team considering you were new. You’d only crossed paths weeks ago, yet it seemed you guys had bonded beyond that though.

You felt a frown swell in as you were just so bored and even agitated by the thought of Brian's relentless lectures. You scooped yourself off of the wooden planks of your shared cabin. The shared cabin was rotting on the outside and had no one living in it for decades. Until you and your group took it. You looked toward one of the yellow-stained windows. It had various cracks growing on the glass. You huffed as you made your way back to your small room.

The wood creaked underneath the sudden weight. The house was extremely cold, which was noticeable as you walked through it. As you made your way back, you saw the door to Brian’s room. It didn’t have any signs indicating it was his room, but you knew. Every time he returned, he’d go into the room and stay in it for hours. So it counted as his room to you. Curiosity was slowly eating away at you as you held the knob in your room. "It couldn’t hurt," you thought as you approached it with caution, as someone would approach a cat.

You placed your warm hand against the cold door knob. As you turned it, the door slowly opened at your command. You peered in to see a dark room. All of you had placed lanterns in each room due to not having working light bulbs. You looked at your surroundings more closely, seeing a vague shape of a lantern. As you turned on the lantern near the door, The small light lit up the room. The room looked just like you last saw it. Bland was a good way to describe it. The bed still had its matted maroon coverings, with the fan above still collecting dust.

Honestly, you couldn’t even tell if Brian even lived here. However, you did see something yellow peek from underneath the closet frame. That had been the only sign of life. It felt wrong to take the first step into his room you mentally ignored it. Though, it got easier the more steps you took into it. You looked around feeling somewhat trapped. But, you eventually got used to it. There wasn’t anything amazing about the room but something more unnerving lurked in its walls.

You approached the closet. You probably could have seen what was inside the closet if you looked through the slits of wood. You pushed the closet doors open with minimal effort. The closet doors creaked loudly as the metal hinges tried their best to support them. Inside on the floor was a sad single hoodie. The yellow had faded and looked simply thrown and left there. However, you knew this wasn’t here when all of you moved in. This must have been the single thing that Brian had owned and decided to just toss it here with little to no thought.

The cold air of the house made you second-guess yourself. You had an impulsive thought. What if you wore it? Maybe mental payback for all the shit he’s ranted about. But, it didn’t feel like payback more like a want. Did you want to be engulfed by his hoodie? That was something you didn’t necessarily answer. You never knew how he always wore one of these constantly. Whether it was in the hot roaring sun or not. He would wear this.

As the metaphoric voices in your head scream at you not to pick it up. You did it anyways. The fabric felt used as you rubbed the cotton with your hands. You could feel every string and cross stitch of the hoodie. As another impulse came again. What if you just rubbed your face against it? So, you did. It didn’t feel any different from any blanket or shirt in general. But, it was more of a mental thing. This had to be fucking weird. It was weird to be doing this to your friend's shirt but, this is what he got for constantly lecturing you. You felt like a cat doing this. You took the cotton away from your face.

As you got the worse idea of them all. These what if’s were going to be the end of you and you knew it. You swallowed slowly as you felt heat rise to your cheeks. What if you wore it? Now that would be a bad idea. But, it’s not like he was around. No one was around today. You could just slip it on then, quickly take it off. And leave it there. And pretend none of this had happened.

And that was the plan. It was foolproof. As you slipped the thick fabric onto your exposed skin. It made all the difference. You instantly got sheltered from the cold air around you. The warmth of the hoodie seemed to enclose you. As you thought it seemed to you had other intentions than, just getting revenge and thinking about it now. It was set up perfectly. The way it had been directly tucked under the closet doors. The way lantern was set in an easy-to-reach spot from the door. And how cold the entire cabin was. You were probably just thinking about too hard.

As the hoodie swallowed you/fit perfectly. You felt a hand being placed on your shoulder. There was a warm familiar presence behind you. As a black glove hand had a gentle but, assertive hold on you. Maybe the hoodie hadn’t been the only thing warming you.

“It’s not what it looks like-” you panicked a little as you came face to face with the person whose room you were in. How in the fuck did you not hear this man. You had a million things running through your head right now. “I’m pretty sure I know what this looks like” a golden voice rang throughout your ears. The same voice that constantly ranted to you was back. “I- I can’t even explain this, to be honest with you.” you stuttered from embarrassment but, decided to come to terms with your sins. He signed heavily as you halfway turned to him. He backed up. You looked at him with shame but, he didn’t look angry with you.

For fucks sake you swore you could see a small smile underneath that mask. He had a video camera in his left hand that he was gripping onto. “...shit” you muttered under your breath. “You’ve got to be sneakier next time.’ ‘You never know when someone could sneak up on you.” this man was about to go on a twelve-hour lecture. And you weren’t going to have it why not just go with the flow you’d already fucked up as it was. “Not gonna lie I can see why you wear this all the time.’ ‘This is very comfortable” you made idle chat to distract him but, you still didn’t have any clue why he wasn’t pissed.

“I know, still I can’t believe that I chose you.” Brian tilted his head. You thought about it. He wasn't wrong. He did choose you over his buddies with time. He was always training you. Worried about you. Maybe it wasn’t always about him ranting about how bad your skills were and treating you differently. Maybe he was more along the lines of just caring about you more. “Well I’m happy you did.” you sighed as the air felt a lot different than, it should've.

-

(A/N - Reposting all of my October 2022 onto Tumblr but, after 10/7/22 I’ll be posting them one by one! Also this is just me mixing fictober22 & flufftober2022!)