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steve0discusses · 4 years

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Yugioh S4 Ep21: Duke Puts on Duel Disk, Immediately Takes Disk Off

So last time we ended, Yugi and Tea were stranded in the middle of an ancient warfield that was hundreds of feet off the side of this cliff topped with a seldom used railroad track.

And yes, this is all somewhere in what should be one of the most populated parts of the Bay Area.

Amazed that this school uniform can go through such rugged terrain. But then again, last season it got hit squarely with a fireball, so...this school uniform is essentially a Batman suit.

But I just want to point out that Yugi didn’t take the duel disk off before vaulting up this cliff. Tea has a bag youknow...but gotta sweat up the duel disk that our entire world relies on.

It would be very funny if this season ended abruptly because Yami either dropped this thing on the ground and finally broke it, or just plain forgot he needed to charge it’s batteries.

And so now we just walk...kind of in the direction where they hope Joey and Tristan are?

I do appreciate that although Pharaoh is completely lost in a foreign country, he will not admit it.

(read more under the cut)

On the other side of the tracks, Joey is dragging his Sisyphean stone.

Please admire that this entire scene takes place somewhere in the Grand Canyon. Like it’s episode 20 and I just still can’t get past how they went to California and didn’t include a single beach.

Mai has decided she’s done screaming off the back of a motorcyle, and has decided to come over to Dartz’ lair to scream where the traffic isn’t quite so bad.

And she just rage quits.

Is this the first rage quit we’ve ever had in this show about games? Incredible.

Also, I didn’t realize you could just quit the end of the world cult in the final hours of ending the world, but I guess it doesn’t really matter much to Dartz. Whether Mai ends up killing Joey or doesn’t end up killing Joey, it’s still a soul in the Leviathan bucket so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Now, in the actual dialogue of the show, Dartz tells Valon that Mai’s basically going to get what she deserves and no one here needs to even do anything to change or stop it. But, it was still somewhat surprising that this 10,000 year old serial murderer world destroyer was so down to shell out some relationship advice. Almost like maybe he has somewhat of a fatherly concern for his stupid ass murder boys. Kind of. Sort of.

Enough to try and tell Valon to leave this one alone because she’s gone maniacal pixie dream girl and there’s no coming back from that.

In order to have motorcycle gangs, you have to have bearable enough traffic for said gangs. That’s why we just don’t have a motorcycle gang problem in real deal California like a lot of 70′s-80′s movies would have you think. They’d only be able to drive in like...one lane, and they’d get constantly cut off and driven off the road by Google buses.

TBH the Google bus is our true modern motorcycle gang, there are just so many of these damn buses. And also, I deleted a lot of text right now when I went off about the ongoing bus war, which is absolutely a thing here. The motorcyclists are just doing me a solid by not being a car on the road and staying out of my lane.

In a more realistic version of this show, Mai would have never made it to the desert, she’d be too busy watching only one single car able to turn right onto Octavia every light cycle because of all the damn private buses and uber cars flooding our itty bitty one way streets.

And to try and tame Mai, Valon decides to do this...motorcycle stand off?

It’s like he’s trying to catch a feral cat.

At some point one of them stops, and like I was focused too much on how good their brakes are to pay attention to who stopped first.

Probably Valon, because Mai is completely insane.

And so then he just...

Y’all I know they had to give Valon motivation to be in love with Mai, but this kids show jumped through so many hoops to make this very unhealthy relationship appear like Valons love was pure and true while still showing that this is a very unhealthy relationship. Kind of a hard balance.

It’s actually interesting how much work they put into Valon’s very tragic and problematic relationship after they’ve dodged every other problematic relationship this show has brought forth.

Like the villain with a heart of gold is a trope, but it’s a trope that works. There is no hope in the world that this relationship could pan out. They’re not a misunderstood pair like he thinks they are. They’re freakin terrible and they don’t deserve each other. But he’s gonna try and do it anyway.

We get to watch Valon bargain (mostly with himself) about how this relationship (which exists mostly in his head) is going to absolutely work out, because to him, if he feels so intensely, eventually she’s gotta feel the same. Most people haven’t murdered people, but it’s still a very relatable type of situation that the show displays without getting too preachy about how it’s clearly bad news. They just introduce it for the audience to come to their own conclusions, and I was really surprised by that level of maturity.

I’ve been sitting here saying “There’s no way this show could balance Tea with Yugi and the Ghost in his head. There’s no way they can really touch on Kaiba and that paper card. There’s no way that this show knows how to do a relationship because they don’t want to get involved with that weird gray area.” and you know what? Maybe they can.

Like they’re doing it right now. Did they just need 4 seasons of people complaining to go “Fine! I’ll write out the problematic relationship! I’ll do it!” because--this works for them. They finally did it.

Now, I’m not saying it’s Oscar worthy or developed beyond a trope, I’m just saying I’m genuinely surprised to see it on this show, and they should have done it more often. It’s a super weird pairing, but way more interesting than like...all that time we spent with Serenity because I actually have something to look forward to. (which will be when Valon inevitably dies in a ball of tragic glory)

So many romance stories give me nothing to look forward to, y’all. You have to give me something. Like, I’ve been reading a lot of not great romance in my life, and you have to have some sort of time limit in place for me to care about your couple. To have only have so much time before the other person gets married, moves, ends the world--I don't care--but man that time limit is crucial and so much romance just...forgets.

Like Bonnie and Clyde, Romeo and Juliet, and other ill fated couples, Valon and Mai end up being interesting because we just love seeing people fall into pieces. Hell, I just finished watching Tiger King and damn, what makes that show so good is that you are just waiting on that time limit to see how bad it gets. (and it’s crazy, super recommend Tiger King, although it’s very clear that they pushed the drama a little beyond realism but man. Good TV.)

Of course there’s always the chance that maybe Valon just got bored. But, youknow.

Anyway, it IS a romance on Yugioh, so we do have to very quickly drive a truck through it.

Man.

What are they DOING here?

It took me kind of a while to remember that Mai would be going where Joey would be living, which is most likely where Raphael dropped off Arthur Hawkins. But, if you don’t remember that fact, this is the most random thing ever.

Like you got this huge ass desert in the Califorizonado mesas, and then BOOM enter Rebecca Hawkins, just omnisciently lording over all of the West and just so ready to fight you.

Every girl interested in Yugi Muto has this thing where they’re normally pretty chill and then they just snap and get angry as hell.

PS she’s in a different outfit now, but I don’t feel like changing her font color. I’ve had some Photoshop.......incidents.......and I don’t think I have this plaid pattern anymore and I don't feel like making a new one yet.

I mean Valon’s got the green outline on his text, so I figure we’re good.

Also, Rebecca wears a tie clip?

This 12 year old girl wears a tie clip.

And like don't get me wrong, this was 2003-4, alt rock was big, and yes, we did have tiny Avril Lavigne ties at American Eagle. I will admit that I very much considered getting an Avril Lavigne tie at one point in my life, but didn’t want the commitment of needing to pair it with a skirt.

But either way, old man tie clips aren’t alt rock. The only thing that makes Rebecca’s outfit not exactly that alt-grunge Avril Lavigne look is that tie clip. They were SO close to making her look cool. Just so close.

Also the bifocals. But anyway...

So Valon was going to straight up ignore Rebecca, because he has a warped sense of morality and will not kill a 12 year old (but will kill a 17 year old). But, Mai did ask nicely.

Thankfully, because of Valons weird sense of morality, he did not pull out the Oricalchos. Instead he pulled out...a new mechanic!

OK.

Fine, whatever. I don’t go over cards in this show so I don’t have to even worry about this.

And Rebecca and Duke freakin lost, because Duke is never allowed to win. Rebecca may have won if Duke didn’t join this battle with his ass luck, just throwing that out there.

And Mai is like “wow, Valon is doing a really good job. He’s right, he IS amazing”

and she bolts.

And back on the tracks, we see another group of our protagonists sprawled on the desert floor.

REALLY lucky that this train track only has one operating train that is currently out of commission because you should not lie down on a track like this. Probably goes without saying that this is a great way to die. But youknow...the world is also ending so sure, why not? Getting killed by a train is probably more pleasant than the Leviathan.

And then, because we MUST talk about commuting, lets see Kaiba’s commute on this huge ass very normal plane.

I know.

That’s just a normal ass plane.

Even Kaiba needs to take a break youknow? And maybe since he hallucinated last time he drove a plane he decided to just...not drive one for a while. Probably a good move.

On the way, we get to see Seto’s form of parental advice. It was weird.

Like in the actual dialogue of the show Seto is just SO CLOSE to giving good advice and then just slips in these chestnuts where it’s like...well that’s gonna be like 12 years of therapy for Mokuba in the future Seto, thanks for that.

Also lets welcome back Seto’s dueling jacket. Been a while, big sleeves.

Also, the Aurora Borealis has also hit the plane, which is very Twilight Zone of them.

...

Correct me if I’m wrong but Alister was in Dartz’ room during that convo with Mai.

like...just a few hours ago?

Was that a hologram of Alister in Dartz’ boardroom or did the animation team forget?

Oh Alister.

Also, I just want to point out that the same day Seto sent Roland out to fix his problems, was the same day that Kaiba got hella abducted, just a few hours later. Man, Roland. Turn around for like 2 minutes and Seto’s back into cards, they’re both abducted by cultists, and they’re both half-way across the world to California. It must be hard to be Roland.

Anyway, if you just got here this is a link to read the rest in chrono order. All four seasons.

Hope y’all are staying safe in this Pandemic time, goes without saying. Been a weird couple of weeks, but thankfully the internet is still here to help us all keep sanity.

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ryvswb · 5 years

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@snowflake1488 Asked: Did Church remember to bring Yang back?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Church, at the foot of a hill near Blue base:...

Church, crouching down and screaming: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Jumpcut to Red base*

Yang, walking out of Red base with Donut: Man that was a fun jamming session!

Donut, his voice slightly raspy: My throat hurt.

Grif, sitting on the ground: My EARS hurt.

Yang: Hey what do you guys do for fun around here anyway?

Simmons and Grif, simultaneously: Stand around and talk?

Yang, sarcastically: You guys sound very fun to be around.

Grif: Oh just wait for the bounty hunters and evil AIs to start showing up.

Yang:...

Yang: Sounds boring! Lets go hit the city! I think I saw one nearby while Ruby and I where falling from the sky.

Grif: I don't really wan-

Yang, walking away with Donut: I'm kinda hungry. Who wants some pizza?

Grif, standing up in excitement: PIZZA!? You now have my attention. Lets go Simmons.

Simmons, as Grif walks away: But we need to guard the base and...and...ummmmm...oh fuck it.

Lopez, in spanish , watching Simmons run after Grif:.....Finally some peace and quiet...

Lopez:...

Lopez, in spanish, walking inside Red base: I'm going to go make a back up of myself now. Knowing them they'll come back with a new batch of evil maniacs to deal with.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Church, briskly walking towards Red base: Gotta hurry gotta hurry, gotta hurry and send these fucking brats home before some new secret organization or whatever thats after them shows up here to fuck our shit up.

Lopez, in spanish: Oh hey. I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize you forgot blondie.

Church, impatiently: Yeah yeah where is she?

Lopez, in spanish: She left.

Church, softly:.......what?

Lopez, in spanish: She left with the other idiots to get pizza.

Church: Oh...no....I'm too late.......THE WACKY HIGHJINKS HAVE BEGUN.

Church, dropping to his knees and shouting towards the sky: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Lopez, in spanish: Drama queen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tucker, on the roof of Blue base with Weiss, watching Yang and the Reds leave the canyon: Oh jesus what are the reds up to this time. Hey Weiss. Why don't you go with them? This party of idiots desperately needs a straight man to babysit them.

Weiss, offended: But I'm neither straight nor a man!

Tucker: No I mean't- oh whatever just go with them and make sure they don't get in trouble okay?

Weiss, crossing her arms: Why me? Most of these people are YOUR friends and I already know Yang can handle herself. Why should I have to play babysitter?

Tucker: Alright look, you can either go the the city with them and maybe have a nice time...or you can stay here and help me convince Caboose that those tubes of weird colored powder you put in your sword aren't pixie sticks.

*Both turn towards Caboose*

Caboose, trying to pry open a tube of ice dust: Hey Weiss is this one blueberry or raspberry?

*The dust tube explodes in Caboose's face, freezing over his helmet*

Caboose, his voice muffled: OH. ITS PEPPER MINT.

Weiss, starring at Caboose unamused:...You know what? I'm going to get some coffee.

Tucker, as Weiss walks away: Bye! Have fun!

Tucker, waiting for Weiss to be gone before walking back into Blue base: Now its just me and the cute cat babe. Oooooohhh yeaaaaaah.

Caboose, his helmet still covered in ice: HELLO? ANYBODY HERE? MY NOSE IS ITCHY!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Church, running back to Blue base: TUCKER! Yang and the reds left! We have to find them so we can send these four girls back to wherever the fuck they came from before some bullshit happens- WERE THE FUCK IS WEISS.

Tucker, casually: Oh she left to get coffee.

Church:......you know what? Fuck this. I'm just gonna go make a back up of myself before these morons come back with more trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writers note: This is Epsilon Church so he can understand Lopez by translating him into english.

#rwby #red vs blue #ryvswb!au #leonard l. church #lavernius tucker #yang xiao long #lopez #michael j. caboose #weiss schnee #dick simmons #frankly delano donut #dexter grif

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writing-of-a-british-bitch · 5 years

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The Fairy King - Chapter 4

Fandom: Queen/Borhap

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Queen X reader/ To be determined, x reader

TW: Mentions of death, sabotage, I don't think there’s anything else?

Genre: Fantasy. (Labyrinth AU)

Series: The Fairy King

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

(Y/N) already felt like she’d been there for hours, and if Roger’s words were indeed correct and time did pass differently, she most definitely had. She was also starting to believe that the worm had pulled her leg and sent her the entirely wrong way, because no matter where she turned, she didn’t appear to make any progress. Just after the worm had sent her on her way, she’d found a piece of chalk against the wall and had begun drawing arrows pointing in the direction she was heading. However, she soon realised they'd all been flipped and changed. Her eyebrows furrowed at the realisation and she let out a growl.

“Someone has been changing my marks! What a horrible place this is! It’s not fair!” She exclaimed, her hands slapping against her legs.

“That’s right! It’s not fair!” A new voice made (Y/N) twist around and she saw that the wall that had been sealed before had now become to doors with guards in front of them. One of the guards in front of each door was upside down, head poking out from the bottom of the shield and the other was stood upright, the shield held tight in its grip. The guards on the left held a shield with red details, matching the colour of the helmet on its head and the guard on the left held a shield with blue details. Each of the guards laughed at the comment, shaking their heads.

“This… this was a dead-end a minute ago,” (Y/N) mumbled aloud and the four guards looked between themselves before glancing back at her.

“No, that’s the dead-end behind you!” the blue upside down guard chuckled, and when she turned back, the wall had, in fact, closed up, enclosing her in with the guards. They all continued to laugh, borderline hysterically.

“It keeps changing! What am I supposed to do?” She huffed in annoyance and all the guards shrugged except for the upside-down red one who raised his eyebrows slightly.

“Try one of these doors.” He stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, causing (Y/N)’s skin to crawl in exasperation

“One of them leads to the tower and the other leads to-”

“Baba ba bum!”

“-certain death!”

She narrowed her eyebrows and folded her arms, examining the group.

“Which one is which?” (Y/N) requested, taking a few steps closer and knelt down to the upside-down guards as the group appeared to grow nervous. The two upside-down guards shared a glance before looking back to her.

“We can’t tell you,” The flipped red one answered.

“Why not?”

“Uh, I, uh… we don’t know!”

“But they do!” The upside-down blue guard butted in and the pair looked up to the normal guards.

“Oh, then I’ll ask them,” She stood back up and looked between the red and blue guards expectantly.

“You can’t ask us! You can only ask one of us,” The red guard corrected and adjusted himself, jostling the guard below.

“It’s in the rules. And you should know that one of us always tells the truth and one of us always lies. That’s a rule too,” The blue guard pointed to the red guard “He always lies.”

“I do not! I tell the truth!”

“Oh what a lie!” The two upside-down guards covered their mouths to stop their near maniacal laughter.

“He’s the liar!”

“Alright,” (Y/N) walked over to the red guard and placed her hands on her hips “Answer yes or no. Would he tell me that this door leads to the castle?” She pointed to the blue guard who looked at her, flabbergasted.

“Uh…” The red guard leant down so his head was hidden by the shield and began muttering to the upside-down guard. After a few seconds, he looked back up to her “Yes.”

(Y/N) paused and thought over his response, glancing between them both as she searched her own answer for any discrepancies.

“Then the other door leads to the castle and this door leads to certain death!” She said, feeling a strong sense of pride and accomplishment fill her body.

“How do you know? He could be telling the truth,” He replied, almost as if he was trying to persuade you to go into his door instead.

“But then you wouldn’t be. So if you said yes, the answer would be no,” She reasoned and blue guard seemed shocked, even more so than he had been before.

“But I could be telling the truth!”

“Then he would be lying. So if you told me yes, the answer would still be no,” She shot back and the blue and red guard looked at each other.

“Is that right?” The red guard asked and the blue guard shrugged.

“I don’t know- I’ve never understood it!”

“No, it’s right. I’ve figured it out,” (Y/N) insisted and walked over to the blue guards, who stepped aside, a little awkwardly, before taking a small step through the threshold “I could never do it before. I think I’m getting smarter. It’s a piece of cake!”

However, just as she said that the floor opened from beneath her feet. She let out a scream as she dropped but before hundreds of hands reached out through the wall and gripped onto her, slowly pulling her to a stop.

“Yuck! Help! Stop it!” She screeched, squirming in the grip of the dozens of hands. Suddenly, some of the hands joined together to look like a face.

“What do you mean help?”

“We are helping.”

“We’re helping hands!”

“You’re hurting!” She snapped, glancing around the darkened tunnel of hands.

“Would you like us to let go?”

As they let go, she continued to fall, another scream ripping from her throat.

“No!” She bellowed and the hands gripped onto her body once more.

“Well then, come on!”

“Which way?”

“Which way?” She repeated, shifting as the hands gripped tighter and began pinching.

“Up or down?”

“Oh…” (Y/N) muttered

“Come on! Come on!”

“We haven’t got all day!”

“Well, it’s a big decision for her.”

“Which way do you want to go, hmm?”

“Yes, which way?”

“Well… since I’m pointed that way… I guess I’ll go down,” (Y/N) said but instantly regretted her decision as the voices turned mocking.

“She chose down!”

“She chose down?”

The hands began leading her straight down and she tried to grip on to them to stop herself from descending further.

“Wait, was that wrong?” She questioned.

“Too late now!”

With that, the hands dropped her through a metal grate, which instantly closed behind her, and their harsh laughter echoed until it slammed shut. The room was pitch black and she looked around in panic.

Mercury was lazing on his throne leisurely, watching the girl through the enlarged crystal ball in the middle of the room. May and Deacon stood either side of his throne and the people of Mercury’s party crowded around the crystal, trying to eye where (Y/N) had found herself. May was beyond impressed that she had managed to solve the two-door prison - so many had lost their lives upon reaching the guards- but he had winced upon her saying how easy it was. That was one of the worst things anyone could say while trapped inside the King’s labyrinth. However, while May was impressed, Deacon couldn’t stop the worry rising in his body. She was a young thing, full of life, and clearly very intelligent but so naive. She was going to get herself killed if she continued the way she was.

“She’s in the oubliette,” Mercury observed and the room, beside the king, May and Deacon, burst into laughter, only to be silenced a second later with a harsh “Shut up. She shouldn’t have made it as far as the Oubliette. She should have given up by now.”

“She’ll never give up,” One of the guests replied, not taking her eyes off of the girl in the crystal.

“The pixie is about to lead her back to the beginning. She’ll soon give up when she realises she has to start all over again,” Mercury let out a dark laugh, slicing through the tense silence of the room “Well, laugh!”

Tags (for this series): @loveandbeloved29 @sam-mercurry-sixx@sunflower-borhap-boys @bouncingjoe @lets-go-panic-at-discos@storiesandcelestialbodies @everything-you-dont-wanna-be @sincereleygmg @mirkwoodshewolf@queendeakyy @sprinkle-covered-leeks

Tags: @writingfortoomanyfandoms @metaphorical-love-for-a-car@queens-n-roses @freaky-dcaky@yourealegendfred@fierce-bab@dusthas-beenbitten @bensroger@strangeandwonderfulconcepts@babebenhardy@benhardyjones @silvver-rose @psychosupernatural

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imgaygremlin · 5 years

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Left in disrepair

Chapter 1- The one where hearts are broken

A golden bunny- well- an anthropomorphic one, shoved a girl- no more than 4, into a small back room, with no witnesses and nothing to protect her. Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, the newest place kids loved to go to, had several back rooms not mapped on the robot's sensors, or the cameras, making the perfect place to hurt- or worse, kill- someone.

The small girl breathed heavily, scrambling against the wall as a first resort. She whimpered, and decided using her voice would be the best way to ensure her safety. “What are you doing?” Her voice was shaky, and cloaked in a thick lisp, making her almost inaudible. She heard her friends running around outside, looking for her. “Gabriel?” She called, but to no avail. Nobody heard her.

“Shush, Susie. Just give up, they’re not coming to help, and you’ll soon be dead, too" he laughed, it soon turning maniacal and evil, and pulled a knife out from somewhere inside his suit. There were no pockets that Susie could see, so it had to have been on the person inside it.

“You aren’t really a robot, are you?” Upon seeing his reaction, a nod, her eyes flashed between almost every single emotion- sad, that she was alone; happy, that the robots weren’t trying to kill her; anger, that she was letting herself die like this. Her eyes eventually settled on a emotion that was particularly hard to describe, but to put it simply, was betrayal. Betrayal of the adults she thought she could trust. Betrayal that she couldn’t put up a strong fight.

“Good job, kid, you aren’t completely useless.” He chuckled, putting on different voices. Even though they were already almost pitch black, the man- the human’s eyes- seemed to grow darker with bloodlust and he lunged towards the girl, knife swinging outward. It missed her, by a fraction of an inch, and while he was distracted by the recoil and pressure on his arm, his breathing getting heavier- a bad sign- she threw a punch towards his face, and hit him square in the nose. His head got pushed backwards, not by much though. He stood back upright, his smile showing through his gapped teeth.

“That’s the best you can do? You’re weak.” He rocked on the balls of his feet, and made a split second decision to get rid of the Bonnie head, leaving it discarded on the floor. He could no longer act like someone he wasn’t, or rather, something he wasn’t. He smiled, a sweet, sadistic smile which had no traces of regret, or remorse, or really any emotions.

“I’m not the weak one, you are. I might be young, but you’re the stupid one, for attacking me. Don’t get me wrong, I love a fight, but only if it’s fair.” She managed to distract him with her mini speech, and took her chance to duck out behind him, only to find the door locked. Tears growing in her eyes, she fumbled with the door handle, trying to force it open. Eventually, she gave up, sinking back to the ground, sobbing. “I’m sorry, Gabriel, I’ve failed you...” her voice trailed off.

All the while, the man was just staring, knowing she couldn’t escape, and if she could, he would take the defeat. He took his chance, stabbing her in the side while she was crying, her eyes widening in pain. “You can’t get out that easily, Susie. I won’t let you.”

She screamed in pain, one hand holding onto the door handle weakly. The other hand moved towards her side, and she curled in on herself. He simply laughed, watching her futile attempts to save herself. “Welcome to the Afton family, Susie" his smile widened.

“Y-you won’t get away with this, William” she got stabbed in the neck and could not ignore the pain. She collapsed on the floor and bled out.

William climbed out of The suit and stepped over Susie’s body. He dropped his knife, his purple ponytail bouncing behind him. Snapping back into character, he went over to Henry Emily, the person he’s worked with for several years, and faked some tears.

“Henry- I just went into the backroom for some storage and- there was a girl in there- she- she was dead-" he got cut off by Henry dragging him into a private room, alone. He looked almost impressed.

“You can’t lie to me William, you can’t.” That last phrase- you can’t- was one that Henry said a lot, in different tones, but it was always the same phrase. “I know you killed her. Tell me who it was and I’ll tell her parents she went missing.” He smiled, not meaning anything malicious by it, he was just a bit messed up after his daughter died. Henry got on his tiptoes and kissed William, quickly.

“Susie Chirah. She’s strong" Afton laughed slightly, before going on to explain his reasoning. “ You know how Elizabeth, and Chris, and Michael- all either died or left me, right? And for you it’s Charlie? I was thinking-" His face shifted, his eyebrows going down and his smile fading. “We can make a new family, one that’ll never leave us.” He pushed his hair out of his face.

Henry stared up at the 6”2 man, his eyes wide. His oversized sweater had gotten even more oversized as he lost the weight, almost unhealthily, and his hands were covered in ink and oil. Despite this, William loved him. For Henry, William was his only comfort after everyone in his life had left him- not even his sister stayed in contact with him. “Does that mean- Charlie- could come back? In the same way these new children will?”

“In theory, yes.” He paused. “But it might not, as we don’t know what happened to Charlie.” When Charlie- and Sammy- were around, William saw them as his children, and he looked after them like he was their father, but then they started taking too much of his time, so they had to go.

“Oh, speaking of Charlie, come with me!” Henry grabbed William's hand, and dragged him into one of the other back rooms- the safe room, to be specific- and showed him the work-in-progress robot he made, which was almost indistinguishable from how Charlie looked when she was alive. “I haven’t made the ai yet, but it looks like Charlie, doesn’t it?”

“Yes-" he paused, “it looks just like her.” He seemed to rock on his feet, his usually confident facade broken down into- admiration? Love? Jealousy? All of William's emotions were a jumble right now, he couldn’t tell what was ‘William Afton, the businessman’ or ‘William Afton, the broken man’.

“Are you okay? You look upset.” Henry reached towards his hand, but he pulled away.

“I’m fine- I’m sorry- I just remembered something” William quickly looked around the room, before looking back towards Henry. “You’re really beautiful...”

“Should we go back outside?” Henry reached for his hand again, and this time, William didn’t pull away. He gently nodded, and began to leave the safe room. “So.. Susie Chirah?”

“Yeah, that’s her. Have you ever seen a 3 year old so strong? It’s unreal.” William chuckled, sounding more human than he ever had done.

“We’re getting a new night guard tonight, right?” Henry looked around. “’Cause we both have stuff to do, right?”

“I believe so. I think his name is Warlock...”

“Odd name" Henry got the phone he always used, the cheap one. “Wanna help me record a tutorial message for him? This place isn’t too easy to navigate on those cameras.”

“But that means we have to do 5 nights worth of tutorials for one person.”

“Not necessarily. What if something happened to ‘phone guy’ on night 4? Like, being attacked by the robots?” Henry began to chew his nail, out of anxiety, or a whole load of different emotions.

“Or, just let Warlock make them. We can give him extra pay.”

“You’re a genius, William.”

“No, I’m William.” He giggled slightly.

“You need sleep, sweetie.” Henry, being surprisingly strong, picked him up, and walked around the back way, avoiding Susie’s parents, and only put him down when they were in the office. “Go to sleep, and I’ll sort out Susie’s parents"

“I love you, Henry...” And like that, William was asleep.

“I love you too...” Henry left the room, a smile on his face.

He walked towards the main room, where he could see Mrs and Mrs Chirah “Uh- excuse me- you’re the mothers of Susie, right?”

“Yeah...?” One, with a short, half-shaved pixie cut spoke with a thick Japanese accent

“I-I’m so sorry, but... your daughter has gone missing... Me and William can’t find her anywhere... I’m sorry..”

The two wives almost burst into tears, and they left the pizzeria quickly.

Henry sat down, and zoned out.

Meanwhile, William soon woke up, and got to work on increasing the size of his new family. He found his trusty suit, and lured a couple kids into the backroom with their own drawings. “Come here, kids, I found your missing drawings, and I even made them better!”

The oldest child, Cassidy, being almost 6, was the hardest to get trust from, and so he relied on blackmail. Since William had known them all for basically their whole life, he knew what to say to get her to behave. “If you don’t come here, your brother won’t love you anymore.”

“G-Gabriel wouldn’t do that, I know... I think...” She began to question what she knew. Without knowing what she was doing, she began to walk towards William, where her brother, and the Styke siblings were- that is, Fritz and Jeremy.

“That’s right, I won’t hurt you..” He lied. As Cassidy approached him, he grabbed her by one of her short ponytails and dragged her backwards into the safe room with everyone else. William locked the door behind her.

“What are you doing? Why did you lie?” Cassidy started crying, but tried to stay strong.

By this time, Gabriel and Fritz were already dead, on the floor. Jeremy had blood running out of the back of his head, and appeared dead. “You’ll soon be my new children, poor Cassidy. But that’s not a bad thing, you’ll forever be, well, young.”

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else! You’re the reason Susie is missing, aren’t you?” Cassidy almost screamed, her voice sore in the back of her throat.

“Oh, stupid girl, Susie isn’t gone, she’s right here!” He waved his hand and the figure of Susie’s ghost formed next to him.

“That isn’t Susie! That’s just a trick you’re using to kill me!” Cassidy was in tears at this point, and sunk down to the floor, hugging her knees.

Afton took the chance, stabbing her in the chest. He missed, but swung again, and hit her head.

Her hands fell to her side, and her head lolled open, her mouth slightly open. William went to step over her.

Jeremy, unknown to everyone else, was still alive, and went to chase after William. Unfortunate for him, he collapsed over Cassidy's body, his spirit giving up.

William returned, with the suits from the stage. Susie in Chica, Gabriel in Freddy, Fritz in Foxy, and Jeremy in Bonnie.

“Dammit, I need another suit...” he thought for a second, before running off and returning. He then stuffed Cassidy's body into the Golden Freddy suit, more comfortably fitting than the others, as there was no endoskeleton in Golden Freddy.

William, satisfied, left the room.

#william afton #writing #fnaf #fnaf fanfiction #golden freddy #henry emily

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hollandroos · 6 years

Text

Run To Me; Part Eight

You do not have to read this first book to read this one! - There are a lot of dad/mafia series, so if this seems similar to yours then message me for credit.

Blow a kiss, Fire a gun: Teaser Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10 Pt.11 Pt.12 Pt.13 Pt.14 Pt.15 Pt.16 Pt.17 Pt.18 Pt.19 Pt.20 + NSFW Alphabet with Mob!Tom

Run To Me: Prologue Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: Mentions of drugs! This is a big theme in this chapter.

Read on Wattpad! + Playlist!

- You were at work when your phone began to buzz in your front pocket, pulling your focus away from the customers for a mere second before you just let it ring. The gentle buzzing becoming almost nonexistent. Also, you knew that answering your phone during rush hour was practically prohibited considering it was one of your busiest. But then it rang again.

Gentle music rang through the downtown cafe. Waitresses dressed identically to you, not including your torn up sneakers waltzed around, their simple black aprons swooshing against their clothed thighs with both full and empty plates in hand. They were catering the lunch menu, the special being a soba noodle salad with roast vegetables and a choice of chicken or tofu, add a side of fries for only four fifty extra.

The walls were decorated with faded red bricks, the word ‘food’ hung up on the wall illuminating the entire restaurant while pale blue and green seats crowded the wooden tables and it was quite the sight- but a calming one, nonetheless. You collected empty plates and cups, balancing them up your arm or as Rosie called it, your ‘ultimate magic trick’- never having worked out how you could hold as many as you could at a time.

You found that working in a cafe was difficult, yet much better than working in a full-blown restaurant and while it was hard enough to work in a cafe you were lucky to work in one of the smallest cafes in town, one practically closed off to the rest of the world. Most of the customers were usuals, like the ninety-year-old couple that came in twice a week for a cup of tea and a shared muffin or the college kids that came when their workload grew to an extent unlike any other and they needed to unwind.

There had been a fair amount of times where you’d run to the bathroom in a panic, clammy hands slipping against the door handle and feet slapping against the tile floor when someone would come in with the same hair colour as him, eyes blown just as wide or with that same, maniacal laugh that still taunted you at four am. The bathroom smelt awful and it looked it too but for a few moments, it’d become your safe space, an unbreakable bubble of security.

Your phone buzz’s again this time into your hand straight after placing the dirty dishes onto the sink, drawing you into the corner of the kitchen where you were facing the restaurant, where you could make sure they wouldn’t miss you if you popped away for a few moments. The kitchen assistant- a sixteen-year-old boy sends you a friendly smile and you sent one back, his blonde hair tucked back neatly in a hair net.

The gentle clattering of dishes pulled the attention away from the waitress in the corner of the back room, voice muffled slightly by the noise as you speak into the phone. No one seems to give a second glance.

“Hello?”

“Mrs Holland?” The voice on the other end cuts in, voice slightly muffled with thanks to the dishwasher.

You really react to the old name, knowing that legally it was still yours, and Rosies. “It’s actually Y/L/N, but yeah, that’s me.”

“It’s Keira from the daycare- Ms Thomas.” Her voice was sweet, but not kind. Instead, sickly sweet like honey, like she was forcing herself to be kind to you for god knows what reason. “You need to come down to the daycare, it’s about Rosie.”

You remember Rosie coming home from daycare, handing you pictures and rambling about her day. Mentioning how Keira or Ms Thomas pushed her down the slide and Ms Thomas helped her with finger painting. She adored the older teacher, talking about how she wanted her curls to look like Ms Thomas’s black ones’.

You raise a brow, turning towards the counter to make sure no customers were waiting but instead, you find your boss’s hard eyes, cursing to yourself before you speak again; “Is she okay?”

You mouth an apology and he shakes his head, obvious disappointment, speaking up over the counter,

“Y/L/N, what did I say about phone calls during work?” His voice is gruff and slightly drowned out by the commotion of the coffee machine and dishwasher but you still hear it. The forty-three-year-old scratches his beard, trying to act intimidating though you see right through it.

Giving him a look, you hold a finger up signalling that you'd only be one more minute. Your boss grovels and groans before turning away, most likely to go back to bossing around your coworkers or chatting to the customers- there was no in between when it came to those two. He wasn’t a bad guy, in fact quite friendly but very serious when it came to work. Your conversations could go from Rosies’ trip to the park to stocking up the paper bags in only moments.

Ms Thomas coughs gently into the phone.

“She is- luckily, but she may not have been given a few more minutes.” The teacher sighs, rubbing her temples as she speaks. “We suggest you get here as quick as possible- it’s not good.”

You look around, seeing a large group of customers flood out.

“Okay, I’m coming now.” You begin to until your apron and the strings slip between your fingers, it slips around your waist.

The phone goes dead, line buzzing in your ear and you hang up, stuffing the device into your back pocket. You turn to your friend Becca, with her hair thrown up in possibly the messiest bun and bags for days under her eyes. “I need to go, can you cover for me?”

She yawns, a lack of sleep evident. “Can do. Is it Rosie?”

Your friend agrees without any hesitation, picking up a plate of what looked like tomato soup with ciabatta.

Nodding, you give her a hug and hand her your slightly dirty apron, flour and what could be coffee splattered on the front before scooping up your keys, fluffy key-chain rubbing against your palm. “You’re the best, I owe you!”

You found yourself at Rosie's daycare quickly, rushing despite the rain that made it a little harder to drive safely. Your mind reeled with a hundred and one thoughts about what could’ve happened. There was no ambulance outside the daycare so that was good, right? No screaming kid could be heard, or teachers rushing around with panicked expressions and first aid kits in hand.

Your feet pad against the wet concrete, socks growing increasingly uncomfortable as rainwater splashes up, wetting your socks and the slit of skin that was accessible between where your yoga pants ended and socks began and the struggle of walking in wet, sludgy socks was real.

Your wet hand almost slips against the door to the daycare, pulling it open you’re invited by a strong gust of warmth and your shivering begins, teeth chattering. The daycare still looked the same as it did hours ago when you dropped your little girl off, the door she’d run through tugging you along still painted an ugly yellow, ABC’S hung up on the wall each painted with a different colour or pattern.

Turning to the front desk covered in colourful handprints from each of the children both in the past and the recent ones’ you send the lady a friendly smile and in return, she only lowers her shoulders, pixie cut styled hair staying in its’ place as she turns in her chair thanks to a mass amount of hair gel. She barely looks up at you, a look of pure disrespect already clear and you feel the need to shrink away.

Already you could tell that she was one of those people- the types that practically radiated frustration and a pure dislike for the world in itself. Wrinkles decorate her forehead, a selection of bands on her right and left hand.

Despite her clear disgust, you act nice and plaster a cheesy smile on your face.

“I’m here about Rosie?”

She sighs, tongue running across her front teeth. “We can’t let you see her.” The teacher tells you, lips now pursed in a thin line.

She stares you down, taking in your reasonably dirty waitressing uniform after the day you’d had- it was four hours of clearing tables, doing dirty dishes and throwing ingredients together to top up the dessert cabinet. Of course you didn’t look your best right now.

You raise a brow. “What? I’m her mother.”

“We need to wait for the cops.” She hums, looking down at the book in her hand. It was the catcher in the rye, an eye-catching red and gold cover-

“C-cops?” You freeze, entire body coming to a halt including your breathing.

She sits up in her seat and looks almost even more frustrated than before, pulling out her keys but not placing her book down.

“Tell me, Ms Y/N/L, Do you know what this is?” The lady- Debby her name tag says, reaches into the top drawer and pulls out a clear bag, white substance inside and you feel the back of your throat begin to close up, choking on whatever words you felt the need to say.

“I do but I’ve never- I don’t know why-”

“This was in Rosie’s daycare bag, it fell out when she was grabbing her morning tea. Do you know what could have happened If one of our other teachers hadn’t of been with her at the time? What if your daughter had touched this? Even worse, what if she tried this?”

“It’s not mine.” You say truthfully because you knew exactly who it belonged to and what scumbag would be receiving every damn ounce of your anger. Your fists clenched, the thought of the black-haired, scruffy man making you almost shiver, immediately tensing up. “I would never, ever even think about bringing that near my daughter!”

He was vile, the worst of the worst and so deceiving, manipulative to the core.

“That’s not for me to decide, Ms.” Her tone was rotten, clearly disgusted with you but you didn’t blame her- you were almost a stranger, a parent she’d only seen once or twice of a child she most likely got to know caught with drugs in her school bag.

You take a moment to think about the consequences of the situation but your brain was clouded with a hundred and one thoughts, all about Rosie and the bag and Aiden and how maybe, if things didn’t play out, how Rosie could easily be taken off of you.

“I need to see Rosie, does she know about this?” You tap your foot against the floor nervously sludgy socks slipping back and forth inside your half a size too big sneakers.

Debby scoffs, deep brown eyes rolling back for a solid second. “She’s in the staff room with one of our teachers, she’s fine. Given a bit more time she could have suffered.” She taunts you.

“This is a mistake.” You choke on your words, a lump forming in the back of your throat. “I wouldn’t do this, Rosie knows that.”

You want to shout at the lady, to tell her that it wasn’t your fault and you weren't aware but at the end of the day you were her mother, suddenly deemed responsible seeing as you didn’t keep a close enough eye on her and what was going on in her life, more so what your ex-was doing behind your backs. You felt as if you were standing in a shower on guilt, being pelted with false accusations by a daycare teacher when later it could be much worse.

“I don’t care, Ms They were found in your daughters that at the end of the day since you’re the only guardian you’re the one on trial here.” She places her book down, glaring up at you through her glasses. “The cops will decide who’s guilty here.”

Your hands begin to tremble, bottom lip slipped straight between your teeth as you hold back a choked cry because the thought of losing your little girl was worse than being questioned by the police, or charged for a crime you didn’t commit. You begin to grow fearful, remembering the smile she wore this morning and how you promised to pick her up at four like you did every Wednesday. Only soon she’d be expecting you to pick her up, jumping up in anticipation like she always did.

Without another word you look around with blurred vision, heading into the bathroom that was right behind you, hand already reaching into your back pocket. The bathroom door opens with a force, smacking against the wall and you swallow thickly though it’s hard with your throat beginning to contract with every passing second.

You go to your contacts with a shaky thumb, hovering over your father's number being scrolling until you reach Toms’ name because if anyone could sort this, it was him, right?

You turn your phone off before you could hit the call button and hold it against your chest, not wanting to rely on him to fix the issue when he could use it against you. Tom could easily deem you a bad parent and take Rosie, or just find it all too bland and hang up. What were the chances of him even picking up? Most likely reasonably slim and even then the thought of him using it against you came back.

Sucking back your fears, you get back into your phone using the same password you’d had for a year or so, Rosie's birth year and hit the call button. With a shaky hand, you bring the phone to your ear, bathroom wall cold against your covered back. With every ring, your heart beats three times.

It rings a few times and you count your heart beats, heart beating faster than you can keep up with and it scares you even more- panic nearing the point of becoming overwhelming if it hadn’t already reached that point.

“Tom?” You sniffle into the phone, tears both new and old sticking to your cheeks. You were sure that your makeup was smudged and smeared, only hoping the waterproof mascara had done its’ job and wasn’t smudged both above and below your eyes.

He immediately stood up, pen rolling across his table as his men watched intently from their place at the meeting table, papers and weapons shuffled around. “Hey- what’s going on?”

Something clicked the second he saw your name on the screen, knowing you wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency because you practically swore to texting, speaking over the phone was all too much and almost unheard of for his still legal wife. He remembered that much. Tom didn’t hesitate to pick up.

“Something's happened to Rosie and I just- I need you.” You were in shock, words coming out strangled and muffled as you nervously covered your mouth with your hand. Without really realising it, you bite down on your thumb hard, leaning against the cool bathroom door.

Tom nods his head towards the door, watching his men file out without questioning his motives, but Harry remained despite Toms’ hard glare. The mobster leaned back in the seat, making the black faux leather creak slightly,

“You need me?” He asks’ into the phone, concern lacing his voice. Maybe it was concern mixed with confusion.

You barely manage to get a word out before you’re overcome with a new wave of anxiety and you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that maybe it was all a nightmare and maybe you hadn’t screwed up by doing what you’d done. “I can’t- I can’t see her, please.”

“Tom, you have stuff to do-” Harry interrupts the phone conversation because while he couldn't hear you, he could feel Tom’s concentration shifting.

There wasn’t really a debate in his head on whether or not he wanted to stay here and sort out people that hadn’t been behaving as they should be or helping you and his daughter. His feet pad against the wooden floor, hitting the weaved rug as he tries to collect his things. He was in a rush, almost tripping up as he makes it to the other side of the room, managing not to trip up on any of the floorboards.

“I’ll come right now, text me the address, okay?” Tom tugs at his hair, Harry remaining in his seat.

“I think I’m going to lose her.” You whisper, more so to yourself then Tom but he hears it as clear as day through the phone and feels his heartbeat pick up. You sounded so broke, like the thought of losing her was enough to push you over the edge and Tom swallows thickly, remembering that the last time he heard you like that was in a hospital bed.

“I’ll be there before you know it,” He stops himself, fast hands picking up his coat and keys. “It’s going to be okay.” He supports the phone with his neck and ear, sliding his jacket onto one hand as he takes the device into his spare hand and hangs up, stuffing it into his back pocket.

“Tom-” Harry cuts in, frustration evident in his voice but Tom was almost too distracted by collecting his things to notice.

“This is important.” He admits, tugging his jacket over his shoulders, covering the plain white t-shirt and few tattoos that scattered his arms until only one peeked out where the sleeve ended, on the side of his hand, the words ‘tough luck’ imprinted in cursive writing.

Harry taps his foot against the floor, the sound was almost irritating to Tom who had grown to handle almost anything. “So is the mob.”

“Shut the fuck up and deal with it for the day, you can do that, can’t you? Or do you need me to talk you through everything?” Tom storms, feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket and reaches in to grab it out, checking the address. He thanks the lord that there wasn’t a lot of traffic that day.

Harry swallowed harshly, ruffling his reasonably overgrown curls. “No, I can do it. Go sort this out.”

He stops near the door, looking at his brother from across the room. “Look- get Sam to help. Everything you need is on these papers, finish the meeting and deal with the people on the list. You guys have done this a hundred times before.”

“I know what to do, go see your kid.”

Tom feels the need to do a little skip at the words- ‘your kid.’ He pulls the door open, ignoring the way his keys dig into his wrist from the weird angle they sat on and headed down the hallway, ignoring glances from his men on the way.

He makes his way to his car, not caring if the rain wet his once perfect curls, sticking them to his forehead messily or if his suit became drenched. Your desperation spurred him on, foot hitting the acceleration with a dreadful squeeze thanks to his soaked heels, wet suit clinging to his body and Tom realised just how much he hated the Winter weather, it was dreadful.

“What’s that?” Murphey, one of Rosie’s friend had asked.

A group of girls in the corner had snickered and taunted the two for even talking, whispering about how they must like each other and it’d only be a matter of time before he asked her out. Even at Four love was believed to exist.

Rosie picked up the bag that had fallen from her day bag with a gentle thud and poke around, her friend with the freckled face watching intently. She liked how it felt in her hand and began to unzip the bag.

“I don’t know.” She mutters.

Before she could get it open it was snatched out of her hand and Rosie jumps back in fright, her butt almost hitting the concrete as she fell back and she swore she grazed her elbows, ultimately beginning to tear up as her arms begin to hurt.

Rosie didn’t know how long it’d been since she was left in the room by Ms Thomas, at least half an hour but then again she didn’t know how to read clocks. Her little foot tapped against the floor, leggings hugging her legs as she looks around for something to do but comes across the rather high window on the other side of the room. It was next to the sink and a strange machine.

She looks at the game in front of her, a few Barbie dolls on the end of the table that she’d redressed at least three times and huffs, moving to shove them off of the table. They fall to the ground with a crash, an arm even falling off of one of the dolls and Rosie jumps out of the seat, landing on her hands as she collapses to the ground. The window was high, she knew that much.

Rosie drags the seat over to the other side of the room using the plastic legs, pants and huffs escaping her lips as she moves, almost tripping over a rug once or twice.

The small girl manages to push herself up on the seat, little pants of struggles escaping as she hoists herself up, fingers gripping the window frame as she glances out, standing on her tippy toes. Her eyes land on a grey car- her mama's grey car and gasps, excitement and neediness washing over her as she tries to get a closer look but fails, the staff room window was high up and small and she feared falling if she moved around too much.

The four-year-old climbs down, off of the plastic seat using the sink for support and makes her way towards the door, jumping to reach the door handle a few times before pouting when her fingers merely graze the thing. Racing back towards the wall to grab the chair, she pulls it back to the window while the plastic scratches against the floor sickeningly but Rosie doesn’t stop, her persistence key. She climbs up again completely ignoring Ms Thomas’s instructions to sit and play with the lego for a while.

She climbs up just like before, huffing when she stands on the back of her dress and almost falls backwards and if it weren’t for the fact that she managed to catch her balance then she definitely would have. The small girl grips the handle, twisting it and the door swings open with a gentle creek.

“Coming, Mommy.” She mutters, jumping off of the seat.

The poor girl didn’t know why she was alone in the room, left with only a few barbies and a two-player board game when there was no one to play with her but she did get a shock when a bag was snatched out of her hand- one her mom must’ve put into her bag.

At first, she thought it was some kind of candy or broken chalk- so she was confused when the teachers began to scold her, wet tears collecting in her eyes.

Her shoes hit the ground with a gentle ‘smack’, bottom of her sneakers taking the impact and Rosie peeks out, making sure no teachers were in sight before she takes off, running as fast as her little legs can carry her.

She shivers as she gets outside, the cool air smacking against her little body knocking her back slightly straight after pushing the door open and she feels tempted to go back inside and grab her coat that was still in her day bag, but then remembers that Mrs Thomas had her day bag- and her animal crackers.

She could see your car across the road, and if she squinted she could make out her deep blue car seat in the back seat and jumps up, little breathes escaping as she jumps up as high as she can, fingers managing to hook around the lock that she’d watched you undo multiple times before and the gate swings open with her on it, quickly jumping off before it could close again she manages to creep through, leggings growing wet when she jumps through a puddle she hadn’t seen until she was in it.

Rosie didn’t know what made her think this was a good idea, to escape her daycare and make her way over to you but she saw your car- so you must’ve been waiting for her, right? And Ms Thomson hadn’t come back so Rosie had taken it upon herself to come to you- like a surprise!

Dead, fallen leaves and worm float around in the many puddles and Rosie ignores the desire to bend down and pick out the worms, to name each one of them and maybe take them home.

She slips through the now open gate, racing towards the road with soaking wet sneakers and barely stops at the edge of the footpath, trying to remember what her mommy had said about crossing roads but fails to remember. Rosie puts one foot onto the road, before the next and before she knows it she’s in a full blown sprint- tears making her eyes glassy and sight blurry and the closer she gets to the car she can’t help but get excited about going home to Peter and the television, as well as whatever yummy snacks were waiting in the pantry.

She thought about going home to the warm apartment where Peter and Coral were waiting for her, Coral sitting next to Peters’ tank to keep him company and an episode of max and ruby ready to play on the television. Maybe her mom could get her animal crackers off of Ms Thomas and they could enjoy them together- but not the Elephant ones’ of course, Rosie never let anyone touch those ones’ because they reminded her too much of her stuffed elephant-

Maybe if Rosie wasn’t as excited then she would’ve seen it coming. If her eyes weren’t so glassy after earlier activities then she would’ve seen the lights, or if it wasn't raining as heavy as it was then she would’ve heard the vehicle coming or someone calling out her name. All she knew was that it hurt like hell and with every passing second, she felt her vision blurring.

She didn’t know when it started to hurt- heck she couldn’t even really point out where it hurt as she stared up at the grey clouds and she swore she heard thunder crackling in the distance, a wicked booming as raindrops fell around her. They wet her pretty dress, dirt staining her jet black leggings which Rosie was more concerned about then the fact her entire body felt as if it were on fire, a metallic taste forming on her tongue.

“Help!” A voice called, once familiar to her but she still struggled to recognise. Rosie takes a deep breath- or tries too, but only ends up sobbing really just noticing the pain that spread through one of her arms, and the suffocating feeling that arose in her chest. “Someone get help!”

Rosie wasn’t born screaming and crying like most babies. Her arms didn’t flail around wildly the second she was pulled from the womb. She didn’t nearly deafen half the nurses in the room and her presence didn’t hit you like a ton of bricks- nor wash waves of relief over you.

She was born quietly, eyes squeezed shut and body nearly stiff in the nurse's arms. Not a single cry slipped her lips and your first feeling wasn’t relief, it was panic. Panic settled in as you didn’t hear your babies cry or the coe of congratulations from nurses but instead met with bodies rushing around the room in sea blue scrubs as they shared hushed whispers, your baby being passed around like a gift on Christmas eve.

Her first ever noise was at five fifty-three am in the morning, a small mew as she met your chest wrapped in a baby pink blanket. Her fingers were peeking out, wrinkly and nowhere near the size of your own and she yawned, a little sound escaping the back of your throat but she didn’t cry for the first time until five fifty-six.

In a single second, you went from feeling utterly alone in the world, from having absolutely no one to having someone.

Rosie was quiet from birth. She didn’t cry unless she was in pain or really needed something, only speaking up when she desperately had something to say.

Did someone say... we’re about to get some more Holland family moments?

PART 9

Let’s talk about this chapter! Favourite parts, what you want to see next etc :)

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#tom holland #tom holland au #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #mob!tom #dad!tom #tom holland reader insert #tom holland angst #mobster tom holland

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rebelwheelsnycshow · 6 years

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“Inspiration Man”: Satirical Movie Trailer Script

By RebelWheelsNYC NARRATOR: From those fun loving able bodied people in Hollywood that brought you the horror film, Crazy Killer III

[image description: fake movie trailer poster for “Crazy Killer 3″. On top is a photo from “The Shining“ where Jack Nicholson’s character has used an axe to break down a barrier between him and Shelley Duvall’s character who plays his wife. She is scared out of her wits, as he smiles in a really creepy maniacal way. The text in red (on an off white background) reads “Crazy Killer 3. White Guy. Mental Illness. So Scary.” Below that in black “Because vilifying mental illness and perpetuating harmful tropes means big numbers at the box office.”]

WHITE DISABLED MAN: Grrrrrrrrr!!! I'm a white disabled man with a highly vague mental illness and thus... scary... dangerous... fear me. WOMAN REACTING (SOCIETY) : Mental illness! *screams in horror* HOLLYWOOD: Cha-ching, baby! Profit. NARRATOR: From those zany able bodied writers in Hollywood who brought you the romantic blockbuster that stole all of our hearts,

[image description: Fake movie poster, featuring a scene from Me Before You, where Sam Claflin’s character who is disabled and seen in a motorized wheelchair (which oddly enough has no neck rest despite him being paralyzed) wheelchair, slightly leaning back and Emilia Clarke’s character is sitting on his lap, as they gaze into each other’s eyes. The text below in red reads “He is disabled. She is not. He is .. Better Off Dead.” There is a red heart by the word dead. Then at the bottom in black it reads “Because only able bodied people should be encouraged to live to the fullest] WHITE DISABLED MAN: (very charming) Hi there, ladies. I'm an incredibly wealthy, white disabled man who's only chance of happiness, is for me to kill myself. But don't worry. After I fall in love with your manic pixie able bodied savior charm, I'll leave all my fortune to you, so you can live the life that you deserve. WOMAN REACTING (SOCIETY) : (contemplative) Disability is so tragic... (sudden realizes) but oh my god, I hope I meet a rich white disabled man who kills himself and leaves me his fortune. HOLLYWOOD: Cha-ching, baby! Profit. NARRATOR: From the same witty able bodied studio in Hollywood, who brought you the thriller that got everybody wondering... Who Else Is Faking?

[image description: fake movie poster featuring a scene from New York, I Love You, referred to as “The Wheelchair Date”. In the image, we see the back a woman (played by Olivia Thirlby) who has just gotten out of her manual wheelchair and is getting ready to go up a set of stairs of her home. Her father (played by James Caan ) smiles knowingly, but her date (played by Anton Yelchin ) is shocked, as she was presenting as visibly disabled the whole time. Turns out she’s just an actress pretending to be disabled to research an upcoming role. White text by his face reads “But... I thought... you were disabled?” (as she is in the wheelchair for all of the film until now). White text by her head reads “Like just kidding and stuff.” Below the photo, is the following text in red. “Who Else Is Faking?” A fun comedic romp where boy meets disabled girl... or is she lol?” Then below in black text “Because presenting disability as fake and a joke is so funny”] WHITE DISABLED WOMAN: (flirty and oblivious to ableism) Hee hee, I've appeared disabled throughout most of this film but plot twist! I'm not actually disabled. I was just trying to trick you, silly. Ha ha ha ha. WOMAN REACTING (SOCIETY) : (slightly annoyed/horrified) Oh my god, I wonder who else is just pretending to be disabled. Pft. Probably most of them. HOLLYWOOD: Cha-ching, baby! Profit. NARRATOR: Comes the next film, bound to fill the hearts of the able bodied audience with joy for years to come, Inspiration Man

[image description: a fake movie poster, featuring a shot of Tom Hanks playing the role of Forrest Gump. Behind him is the background of a box of various chocolates, with the word #Life in yellow and the far right hand corner. Below the image is the following text in red “Inspiration Man. Disability is T-R-A-G-I-C, but that never gets Inspiration Man down!” At the bottom in small black text reads “Your heart will want to jerk off to this inspiration porn, again and again.”] WHITE DISABLED MAN: (Super cheerful) Hey there. I'm a white disabled man who lives to inspire you, because sure, I'm disabled and deal with social and systemic ableism on a daily basis but... DIRECTOR: Whoa. Cut. Cut. Ableism? What the hell is that? Let me see that script. No no, try this. WHITE DISABLED MAN: (Super cheerful and oblivious) Hi. I'm a white disabled character in a world where I don't face any oppression at all. And yet, despite the fact that disability is... just so inherently … tragic and awful... well, that never gets me down, because I live to INSPIRE! (Does a slightly absurd super happy dance moves to show how happy he is) And remember, when you start to feel down about your life, it could be worse, you... could be me. NARRATOR: Played by all able bodied actors, who you can bet will win an award for their... brave performances, The Chicago Walker gave Inspiration Man 5 stars and The LA Movie Association For Subpar Disability Representation said “It's a must see!” WOMAN REACTING (SOCIETY) : (gushing) ...and oh my god, the ending where he's like “the only disability is a bad attitude.” that is like so true. These able bodied writers are so knowledgeable about disability. HOLLYWOOD: Cha-ching, baby! Profit. NOTE: So, I’ve been watching a lot of Contrapoints on YouTube and just fell in love with how she uses theater to discuss issues in society. It’s something I saw a lot of in The Left at in person protests, but didn’t really see a lot of it on Youtube. I really wanted to do the same in my own work, but there is the age old struggle of ambition vs energy levels, as I am still mostly bed bound. However, I am seeing what I can do to make this an actual video. Although the fake movie posters are based on actual movies, the script is not attacking just these particular films, but rather the bigger problem of ableist representation & disabled characters written by able bodied writers who perpetuate harmful tropes, and then have able bodied actors play the role. Some argue that “it’s just a film” but films influence public opinion, especially if your only exposure to disability is these films and telethons.

#satire #movie trailer #inspiration man #disability representation #hollywood #film #ableist movies #spoon struggles #activist #script #fake movie trailer #disability in movies #disabled characters #hollywood and ableism

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violetlunette · 5 years

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Tropes/Cliches I Hate

So there are a lot of lists stating cliches people hate and this is another one. If you like these, that’s fine, I just get irked when I see them myself and want to rant a little. This isn’t a top ten list, just a list of things I dislike. There won’t be any romance tropes here as they deserve and have their own list. Also, most of these are story telling tropes, so just a heads up. Anyway, let me know what you personally think and tropes you hate and why. Oh, and SPOILERS! Before warned.

Tropes/Cliches I Hate

Too Much Drama/Unearned Drama: My most HATED trope. Don’t get me wrong; I like drama okay, but if it’s over loaded or feels like it was just thrown in for by the writers I get frustrated. Yes I know that writers do that to keep people interested, but can’t they make it feel natural or earned?

I liked “Finding Carter’s” drama; This is a story about a girl who discovers she was kidnapped as a toddler by the woman she called mother all her life and being reunited with her birth family. The drama makes sense and is earned by the whole family; (SPOILERS)

Carter’s whole world is turned upside down so her attitude, while mean at times is understandable.

Taylor has spent her whole life terrified of disappearing like her sister and has had her fear fed by her parents, so has lived a sheltered life.

Their mom lost a kid which has affected her marriage so she started to sleep with her partner and was even planning to leave, however when she found Carter she didn’t want to break her family again. Hell, even the drama with the villain is understandable as Carter and Taylor came from her eggs/she was a surrogate mom who was sleeping with the father at the time. You can see why she might think the twins were hers and that she had a right to take one. This is great drama and I would have loved it, but then they had to give the side characters the angstiest backstories they could which distracts from the family at times and felt unneeded.

And I know; that what drama are about. Angst central, I know, but that’s why I don’t watch a lot of drama. At the very least I want it to be earned an in character or story.

The fifth book of Harry Potter did this fairly well as all the drama came from the characters and their actions. Sirius died due to Harry’s impulsive actions and Dumbledore want to keep Harry in the dark to “protect him.” And the drama hits all the harder because it’s something that could happen in real life (minus the magic stuff.).

A bad example is Gilmore Girls where they force the character April in with a bunch of random drama just to keep Luke and Lorelei apart. There was a legitimate way to put off the wedding; have Luke be afraid of rushing things and feeling like he’s the one who has to make all the compromises and give up things and he runs away for awhile. Hell, they could have kept the plot line of her jumping into bed with Christopher because as terrible as that was it was still a very Lorelei thing to do. But the plot with April and everything after? UNNEEDED AND UNWANTED.

We’re not together, but I’m Pregnant/The Baby Plot: Okay, I love babies—when I don’t have to change them or be woken up at 3:00 in the morning. They’re soft, cute, adorable, and squishy! However in TV the baby is usually born to a “will they won’t they” couple as a way to force them together when the writers made the audience believe they were separating them or for drama. News flash writers; if the only way you can keep a couple together is to throw a baby in the mix, then just give up on the pair!

Babies are used for like one arc to cause drama, then are tossed to the side with maybe a passing mention so it’s like what’s the point?

It’s a cheap way to keep a couple together. A child should NOT be a plot deceive to keep a couple together or create drama. Ross and Rachel were the worse along with Belle and Rumple; Ross and Rachel had fallen into a slump and the audience were starting to move on and look at other options for them so the writers thought they could yank us back by revealing they had sex and Rachel was pregnant. All this led to was the same slapstick they went through when they were together before and they never worked through the issues they had before, mainly that they were jealous, possessive, and vindictive except now they had a BABY.

With the Rumbelle the writers couldn’t decide what the hell they wanted with Rumple (did they want him to be evil or a hero), but knew his actions were pushing Belle (and the fans) away. So what did they do? Threw a baby into the mix with a whole contrived plot that was just—what? I mean, it COULD have worked, but not the way the writers did it.

Writers, people; IT IS NEVER A CHILD’S JOB TO FIX A COUPLE. A baby is not a plot device they are people and deserve more respect than they get. If a couple can’t stay together by themselves, then a baby is not going to help. All it does is trap two people and why would want a couple that’s forced together that way?

“We’re trying to protect ya so we ain’t telling ya shit” and Bad communication skills: How many problems in stories could be solved if two people just sat down and talked instead of keeping secrets. Like “Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.” If Dumbledore had told Harry that Voldemort could get into his head and could hurt people Sirius might be alive. And in a couple? I don’t need to list an example. You’re already thinking of a moment where a couple got into a fight because they didn’t just sit down and talk.

That being said I do like this trope as a potential reason for a hero being ignorant of their past at the beginning of a series as I like the hero from a muggle world. At the very least I want the person keeping the secrets to be called out on it.

Insane maniac pixie girl: This a low one as there are some I like, however I feel this character is over done lately and honestly I can only take so much of the personality. They’re always so loud, screaming all the time, squeaky, and have no sense of personal space. I mean, I like Webby and Mabel, but even then I can only take so much squealing. (I dunno, maybe I have sensitive ears.)

I’m not dead!: Disney gets away with this because the brought backs happen towards the end of the film and isn’t done time and again in the same movie. Compare to the Dragon Ball series were death is like a mosquito bite. Why should I care if they get hurt or the world dies? Just wish them back and everything is fine! Seriously, is anyone who watches DBZ concerned when a character gets hurt or dies still? It’s a cheap trick that feels like a “ha! Fooled you!” moment.

High school drama / Skewd Priorities: Okay when I say high school drama I mean focusing on a school dance when the world is at stake or worrying about whether or not a boy likes you when a murder is on the loose, or focusing on school junk when we as the readers want tto focus on the fantasy elements. This is mostly in YA dealing with kids, so some of this is understandable, but even so it’s not fun to read and even teenagers hate being portrayed like this (at least the one or two I know). When I was teenager I liked the prom and stuff for quiet moments in stories, but NOT when there was a villain loose or danger was coming. Whenever that popped up I was like, ‘bitch wtf is wrong with you! Who cares about a zit when you have super magical powers.’ When I read a fantasy I want to focus on the fantasy elements, not school! School is boring.

Too Easily Forgiven: Forgiveness is wonderful thing, however it should be earned and you know some things can’t and shouldn’t be forgiven. For me it’s murder. Now if it’s between two warriors in a fight that’s one thing, but hurting or killing innocent civilians? No. No, no. Or hey, what if a person has been horribly bullying you or making your life miserable? Do you have to forgive, fuck no. Now I’m not saying you should seek revenge, but I’d rather they just choose that they don’t want to be angry and anymore and decide to move on.

Forgiveness should be earned when they’ve truly hurt someone and even if they feel remorseful, characters still have the right to be angry when they’ve been hurt or had someone they love taken from them.

All humans /muggles are bastards / idiots: Yeah, humans are assholes. We get it. No one knows how bad humans are than other humans, but you know what? Humans have done amazing things to conquer natural selection and the fact that other humans is humanity’s greatest enemy shows just how powerful the human race is. And not everyone wants to blow up shit, some of us work VERY hard to help and save everything we can and the rest are just trying to live our lives without hurting anyone. We may not be top dog, but we’re not bottom of the barrel either. And why should other races get put on pedestal as the woobie race or holier than thou? That doesn’t make them more interesting it just makes them annoying. I see this trope in almost every fantasy, can’t we switch it up a little?

magical speciesism / the blood must remain pure: Ignoring the real life implications this trope’s just been over done. Can’t we turn this around and have it that cross breeding between a magical and a human is considered the norm or a good thing? Switch it up a bit?

Ron the death Eater and Draco in Leather pants: This annoying enough in the fandom where we like to exaggerate and things we like and dislike, but in the actual show it’s insulting to the character AND the fans. If there’s something wrong with the character then the writers should make an arc to improve them, not drag the character through the mud.

On the other end if a character is an asshole you can’t just make them a hero suddenly and expect the audience to buy it. The characters have to earn their redemption.

And those are ten tropes I hate. How about you guys? What’s your thoughts? Do you hate them or am I alone? And what do guys hate to see in stories?

#Tropes #Cliches #I hate #sorry if there's grammar or spelling issues #I try to catch them all #but you know how it is

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themadlostgirl · 6 years

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Not Dead Yet (Part 66)

*me rn:

Pairing: Reader x Peter Pan

Warning: language

“Where have you been, Darling?” I asked when I noticed Wendy walk back into camp.

“I went to see Tigerlily and Tinkerbell.”

“How was that?”

“Good. They’re interesting women. Tinkerbell is a little rough around the edges and prefers to keep to herself but she’s nice. She’s only been here a couple days and she’s already working on plans for a treehouse.”

“Really? I’ll have to go see her later. See if she’d like some help.” I still felt indebted to her for saving my life. There wasn’t a whole lot to do on the island anyways. Spending my day building something didn’t sound too bad.

I looked around the camp and sighed. Peter had disappeared after I sent him away at training. I checked all the usual places but he had simply vanished. I was starting to get worried. He didn’t look too well when I left him. What if the idiot had collapsed somewhere?

“Looking for someone?” Wendy snapped me back to attention.

“Have you seen Peter? He’s been missing for a while.”

She shrugged. “Don’t know where he could be.”

“Neither do I.” I tried to focus on the book in my lap but all the words kept scanning past my vision without retaining anything.

“Why’d you come back?” Wendy said quietly.

“Hm?”

“Why’d you come back to Neverland after you were so set to leave it behind?”

“I was gonna die where I was. We needed a quick escape and I thought of Neverland first. It seemed the safest option.”

“It wasn’t convenience that brought you back here. Not entirely.” she grabbed my hand to reassure me, “Why’d you really come back?”

~~~

The second star to the right…

I craned my neck further up to see through the bars of the window in my cell. The pain made my vision blur and it was hard to focus. Tiny white specks of light against the dark sky. Please let this work.

“I...I believe…” I whispered to the stars, “I believe…”

The pain became too much and I dropped my dead weight into my shackles. Please let it work. Let the shadow come. Please. Please...help me...

I heard the sound of footsteps enter into my cell. The Dark One was back. An ugly and pathetic sob passed my lips. He was saying something but I couldn’t hear it over my own cries. The shackles around my wrists unclamped and I dropped to the ground.

What’s happening? What’s he doing?

I squinted my eyes open and saw that it wasn’t the Dark One at all. It was a woman. “Wha…”

“Shh,” she silenced me as she pulled me up and slung my dead weight onto her shoulders. “We’re getting out of here.”

She pulled a magic bean out of her pocket and threw it on the ground.

Peter! My mind screamed as we fell through the portal. Not Neverland. Not safety. Peter. My Peter. My home.

My love.

~~~

“I came back because…because I missed everyone.” Not a complete lie, “Devin, Nick, Ben, Felix, Tigerlily, and even Peter. I wanted to come home. It just took a couple weeks of torture for me to realize that.”

Wendy stayed by my side the rest of the day quietly reading over my shoulder. I couldn’t focus on the story but for the sake of Wendy I continued to flip the pages for her to read.

That night I was in Peter’s tent half asleep when I felt someone lay down next to me. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know it was Peter. I let out a small breath of relief when I felt his arms encircle me and draw me close to him.

In the morning Peter didn’t talk about where he had disappeared to and I didn’t ask. What he did though was steal me away from the camp and the boys with the promise we were doing something fun. We climbed higher and higher through the jungle until I noticed exactly where he was taking us.

“You ready to do this?” Peter asked.

“I’m not so sure anymore,” I creeped closer to the edge of the cliff. It was the same cliff that overlooked Skull Rock. How appropriate that my flying lesson would take place at the spot Peter had threatened to toss me from and where I had shoved him over once upon a time.

“Is my Lost Girl still scared of heights.”

“The height isn’t the problem. The falling to my death upon a bunch of sharp rocks against a cliffside is.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right here to catch you.” he assured me giving my shoulders a tight squeeze. In his other hand he held up the vial of pixie dust.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I took a deep breath as Peter uncorked the vial.

“Flying is simple, it’s just a matter of faith, trust and little bit of pixie dust.”

“Isn’t faith and trust the same thing?”

“Have faith that you can fly and trust that the pixie dust will work.” he corrected me.

“But what if I do fall?” I edged closer to the edge of the cliff my heart hammering in my chest.

“Oh but, pet,” he sprinkled the pixie dust over my head, “What if you fly?”

“Peter…” I know that I had wanted to do it but every instinct in my head was screaming to get away from the ledge.

“You can do this. Remember, faith...trust...and a little push.” he said the last word so softly I barely heard it before I felt his hand push on my back and I fell over the edge.

A loud scream escaped my throat as I started free-falling towards the water.

“PETER! YOU DICKBAG!” I screamed as the waves came closer and closer.

“Trust, Y/N, trust the dust. Think of something pleasant.” I hadn’t noticed until then that Peter was falling right alongside me with a huge grin plastered against his face.

“PETER!”

“You can do this.” he looked way too calm for someone who was hurtling toward their doom. “Ride the wind,”

Ride the wind. Ride the wind! I closed my eyes and focused on the air around me. I imagined the pixie dust settled in my hair. I thought of Peter and I riding on horseback across a glade. When I opened my eyes I wasn’t falling anymore but shooting straight out across the ocean mere feet above the water.

“Oh my god…” the terrified beating of my heart started to slow as I took in the fact I was actually flying. “I’m doing it! Peter, I’m doing it!”

“I know you could,” he was right next to me relaxed as could be. He reached out a hand when I started to wobble to even out my flying as we turned around back to the island.

Now that my life wasn’t in mortal peril my anger had returned. I gripped the hand he was holding tighter and reached over smacking him repeatedly. “Ow! What was that for?”

“You pushed me off a cliff!” I shouted at him as I continued to try and hit him. By now he had let go of me and put some distance between us.

“Consider it payback for when you did it to me,” he smirked.

“That was decades ago! You’re still mad about that?”

“No, but did it feel good to see your face.” he started laughing maniacally.

“That’s it!” I shot at him. He dodged easily having had hundreds of years of practice. “Get over here so I can hit you!”

“Only if you can catch me!” he took off and I sped after him. We zoomed all across Neverland as I tried to catch up to him. I knew it was useless. He was a natural born flyer and I was still shaky by myself. There was no way I was going to be able to catch the little imp but hell if I wasn’t going to try.

I watched as he started to speed around a mountain. I knew this mountain. There were caves all throughout it that could bring me to the otherside faster than going around. Maybe I could capture him! I ducked down into the nearest opening. It was then that I realized I had picked the wrong entrance. It was a dead end. I tried to turn to avoid the walls but was going too fast and collided with the hard stone instead.

All around me was a deep abyss. I was still in some control and used it to crash myself onto some solid land.

“Y/N!” Peter ran into the caves. “Oh bloody hell woman.”

“Yeah, not a very graceful landing.” I dusted myself off, “And I think I twisted my ankle.”

“Not that, do you even realize where you landed.”

“In a...oh…” I took in exactly where I was. Echo Caves. I didn’t come here often but I could tell the severity of my dumb luck. Instead of going for the large patch of land that lead out of the caves I was now stranded on the column of stone with no way out. “Got any more pixie dust?”

“No. I used up the last bit on you. I’d have to go scavenge for some more.” he ran his hands through his wind-tangled hair.

“So I’m going to be stuck here for hours while you go climb some trees?”

“Not necessarily.” he eyed the gorge between us, “You know these caves. You know there’s another way to get out.”

“No.” I plopped myself down, “No. I’ll just stay here.”

“Y/N--”

“Nope! Just leave me be.”

“I can’t just let you stay over there either.”

“Then you go better threaten some of the boys into spilling their secrets because I’ve got nothing.”

“Really? Nothing at all to voice?”

“No. Not to you at least.” It wasn’t a secret but it was strange to admit, “You know all my secrets. There are no more dark shadowy parts of me that need be revealed. Not to you.”

The space between us seemed to grow larger through our silence. I turned around so he couldn’t see my reddening face, “Just go find some pixie dust.”

“You may not have any more secrets,” Peter said, “But I do.”

“Please,” I look back over my shoulder, “I know everything about you. What else could there possibly be that you’re willing to share?”

“More than I care to admit.” he stepped to the edge of the abyss.

What deep dark secrets could he have? I already knew about his childhood, his relation to the Black Fairy, how he was cursed, what he had to do to save his life, what more could there possibly be?

“Okay, if you wanna try then by all means. Be my guest.” I could not wait to hear this.

His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. “I um…” he took in a deep breath, “Sure you have nothing to say?”

“Not that I can think of. Is what you have to say really that personal?”

“A person’s deepest secrets are hard to admit. I would think you of all people knew that.”

This was hard on him. He’s told me a lot, confided so much in me, what was so bad or so personal he had trouble telling me? “Peter, Peter look at me.” I pleaded. He brought his eyes back up to me. “Whatever it is will not change anything between us. You know that right?”

“You’re wrong.” he shook his head, “It’ll change everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that for so long you have been my friend. Someone I can confide in, someone I trust more than anyone else. I’ve gone out of my way for you, let myself become attracted to you, let myself become attached to you in a way I know I should have never let happen. I know I should have walked away from you but I didn’t and looking back at all the carnage that being around you has wrought I don’t regret any of it. I can’t cause despite every bloodsoaked, annoying, infuriating moment that has transpired since I met you it gave me you, it gave me my best friend.”

The ground underneath us shook and the stone of the cave jutted out some toward my pillar. I couldn’t make a sound. What he had just said was more than I ever expected from him. I have seen him open up but that was more than just a hard to admit truth, it was weakness. Fragile, shaking weakness he was sharing...and it scared me.

He kept staring at the ground unwilling or unable to meet my gaze again. I stood to my feet, careful to mind my tender ankle.

“You want to know what I experience when I’m with you? I get...nervous.” he whispered and the slow thuds that made up my heartbeats began to quicken, “I feel more important yet less significant when you’re around. Like I could take on an entire army or fall to a single person.”

More of the walkway appeared.

“Why are you telling me this?” I stepped towards the growing bridge carefully.

“Because I need you to know. I’ve never done this before. I will admit that this stuff has me baffled but if I’m certain of one thing it’s that I don’t feel this way for anyone but you.”

The stone walkway grew once more but only a little. One of us would have to voice a huge secret to get across now.

“You’re my Lost Girl and mine alone. Yes, I am possessive. Yes, I can be too protective and needlessly jealous. And of course I’m going to be lustful. But why does that have to be the only things I am capable of feeling?”

“Because you’re you.”

He stepped out onto the walkway till he was at its very edge. The large space was too much to even think about jumping across. “You want to know my deepest, darkest secret? The one I tried to keep from even myself? I need you. I need you like I need air to breathe. If I lost you then I don’t know what I would do. That is my biggest secret. I need you, Y/N, and I am never going to let you go.” The rest of the stone surged forward completing the bridge. I couldn’t help it and ran across the walkway and straight into his waiting arms despite my injured ankle.

He hugged me back tightly. “It’s alright now. Everything is okay.” Peter whispered bringing a hand up to cradle my face. He brought me closer until his lips connected with mine. He kissed me slowly, attentively, and so tenderly it left me on another world.

“You know you didn’t have to do any of that. I would have been fine here for a couple hours while you found some pixie dust.”

“I know. But now, there are no more secrets between us.” he smiled at me, “Now let’s see what we can do about that ankle, huh?”

He waved a hand and the pain subsided. “Better?”

“Much.” I grabbed hold of him again, “Now you had better take us somewhere a little more cozy.”

“Why’s that?”

“Cause sometimes I get tired of doing it on the ground.” I smiled back at him. His eyes widened a fraction in realization before he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me into him. The tenderness from before had flitted away replaced with the rough hungry kiss I was used to. A whirl of wind surrounded us and the next moment we were standing in the middle of his underground hideaway.

Despite the initial hunger Peter exerted he made love slowly this time. It was tender and calming as well as arousing to the point I believed it was love making instead of just sex like before. I liked it.

After we made sure each other were completely satisfied we laid back in bed staring up at the ceiling. Peter kept one arm securely locked around my torso holding me close while the other played with my hair. My head was resting on his chest right over his hearts so I could hear the slow paced thumps. “So what do we do now?” I spoke up, “We’ve made the disastrous mistake of admitting we have feelings.”

“Actually I admitted to have feelings, you have said nothing.”

“My turn huh?” After all he had said to me you would think I would find this easier. All of my stupid complicated feelings fighting to be said first. “Well if I need somewhere to start then I might as well start with how you make me feel. I’m happy. That’s all I can think of. When I am around you I go through the usual cycle of irritation you always manage to cause.”

“Look who’s talking!”

“Shut up, I’m trying to be sincere.” I smacked his chest, “To every sarcastic comment and mean spirited name I am always happy to see you. My heart misses a beat when I hear your voice, I catch myself smiling when I think of you. You make me happy. I...I care about you.”

“Yeah?” he smoothed my hair out in a gentle caress.

“Yeah. I can remember little to none about my life and who I was before Neverland. But I do know that at one time when I was young I had a father. A father that loved me and I loved him more than anything in this fucked up world. Then he died. He left me all alone and it was like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest and dropped it down some dark cold hole. I never thought I’d find someone who could make me care ever again. But I did. I found you. I found you and you wormed your way under my skin and into my blood.”

I buried my face in his chest, “But even here on this island of magic and dreams and impossibility there are still nightmares. Because while I try to be fearless I am terrified for you. I’m scared everyday because everyday I see you, the one person that tore down my defenses, and I know that I can lose you. There is a timer on your life and I can’t help but worry that we may not find the boy in time and save you. I’m scared that we’re going to fail and I’m going to lose you and I’ll have to go through all that pain all over again.”

“Oh precious,” he rubbed my back tenderly. He tilted my head up so I was looking straight into those emerald green eyes I came to find refuge in. “Don’t you know by now? Peter Pan never fails.”

I closed the distance between us kissing him slowly. “Not all the time at least. I say I would have caught you during our flight if I hadn’t taken that wrong turn.”

“Sure you would have.” He chuckled softly pulling one of the pelts further around us. “I’m glad I have you. Life was not nearly as interesting before you dropped into it.”

“I’m glad you saved me all those years ago back in the Enchanted Forest. I would have died if you hadn’t taken me back to Neverland.”

“You wouldn’t have died.” he scoffed, “You’re far too stubborn for that.”

I settled back into my spot against him. Entwining my fingers with his. Neither of us spoke but then again there was no need.

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#slowburn #ouat peter pan #peter pan ouat #ouat #neverland #peter pan imagine #peter pan x reader

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wellhellotragic · 6 years

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If Looks Could Kill 6/27

Summary: Emma Swan is a dedicated FBI agent getting over a bad breakup. When she and her partner, Ruby Lucas, are forced to go undercover as contestants on a reality show, Emma is forced to try and win the affections of Killian Jones, a man she despises.

Killian Jones is a lost boy. Having recently been nicknamed the ‘Bad Boy of Boston,’ he’s been living up to his moniker using women and rum to avoid dealing with his dark past. When he’s forced to take the lead in a reality show, he encounters a gorgeous blonde who turns his world upside down.

Miss Congeniality meets The Bachelor

Rated: M for language, violence, and smut.

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Emma hadn’t slept well the night before. She had nightmares of federal agents storming her office with guns drawn. She’d dreamt of the handcuffs and the humiliation, and when she woke she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was coming.

Due to her lack of sleep, she was cranky. Everyone in the house noticed it and if they knew what was good for them based on the look on her face, they’d avoid her like the plague. Ruby was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo, unknowingly pushing and prodding at Emma’s old wounds.

Things didn’t get any better that morning when Agent White pulled them aside.

“Girls, I’m so sorry, I tried to get you out of it but the network insists that you do interviews.” Emma shot the pixie a death glance.

“It’s for the promos. Since we’re taping everything before the show airs, they’re using snippets of interviews and sneak peeks to gauge who the audience finds interesting and wants to keep around. All of the other girls gave theirs yesterday, but you two weren’t here. I didn’t even think they’d notice but I guess Killian said something in his interview and they wanted to get your reaction, Emma.”

It wasn’t even seven in the morning and Emma was ready to crawl back into her bed and never return.

“Okay, so what do you need us to do?” Ruby asked.

“Well, don’t kill me,” she winced while looking at Emma, “but I need you to change back into your clothes from yesterday, for continuity, and then come back down here. Agent Charming will try to make it was quick and painless as possible.”

Emma could feel her hands balling up into fists at her side, holding back her desire to lunge at and pummel the poor agent. This entire experience had been a challenge to her sanity and she was going to snap, and soon.

She let Ruby drag her back upstairs where she slipped back into her now wrinkled and stained sundress. Her hair was a matted mess so she threw it back into a topknot, continuity be damned.

When they returned they were ushered into the same interview room Killian had used. Ruby went first answering the interviewers questions with ease while exuding just the right amount of sex appeal.

Emma was still on the verge of starting World War III as she sat down in front of Agent Charming’s camera. She was completely stunned when the interviewer asked his first question.

“So, Emma, there was some obvious chemistry brewing between you and Killian in that first challenge. Can we expect to see anything more sizzling in the future?”

Rage. That was the only way to describe how she immediately felt as her blood began to boil. Between the pixie’s comments that Killian had said something about her, and the interviewer’s question, she was ready to walk out and never come back.

It was only at Ruby’s insistence that she fought the urge. The camera guy pleaded with her to remember why she was there. She gritted her teeth and gave what could only later be described as a maniacal smile. She let Ruby feed her words and as soon as they had the footage she needed she bolted.

Ruby caught her arm just as she was about to charge up the stairs.

“Em,” she tried but Emma cut her off.

“What the hell was that?” She was sure she resembled a feral animal that was being caged up.

Ruby placed both of her hands on Emma’s shoulders and shook the crap out of her. “Stop it. We’ve dealt with worse, so what the hell is your problem?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

It was a typical walls up response from Emma. Ruby was right, they had dealt with worse, but she was angry, and had no outlet for it. Normally she had the pleasure of knowing that the jerk she was conning was going to find his way to a nice shiny prison cell, but this time the main source of her aggression was also the person she was supposed to be protecting.

Before they could discuss it further, Agent White was calling all of the girls into the living room.

“Okay, ladies. As you all know the first rose ceremony is coming up in a few days, which means you all need to try your hardest to impress our bachelor if you want to stay.” Emma worried that she may pull something from all of the eye rolling she was doing. “With that said, you’ll each get one more chance to spend time with him in the form of a group date.”

Emma barely listened as Agent White explained that they would be split into three groups again. Killian would spend a few hours with each group on a different day. She listened as ‘Mary Margaret’ called off her name along with six others, included Tamara and Elsa.

She heard Robin tell Ruby that it would be the perfect opportunity to get a peek inside Tamara’s room without her noticing, since both she and her roommate would be in Emma’s group.

Emma and the others would be attending a formal dinner that evening in the dinning room. Ruby was in the second group and would be attending a poolside bbq. She thought she heard one of the girls spout out something about bathing suits being optional. That caused Will to tell Agent Charming that he was a lucky bastard. The last day would be horseback riding.

Emma looked at the clock. She had almost ten hours before her group date. She could feel the walls closing in around her, but for the first time in her life, she couldn’t run. She was trapped, so she did the next best thing. She hid in her room.

Killian was dreading the group dates. As much as he sometimes enjoyed the company of women, it wasn’t exactly thier communication skills that he usually admired. The idea of sitting with these women for almost four hours was torturous.

Mary Margaret had stopped by earlier giving him a list of how the groups had been divided and which days where which dates. As he scanned the list, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed seeing Emma’s name on day one.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her, but he had hoped that she be in the horseback-riding group. He wanted to get her heart racing, plus the innuendo practical screamed at him. Also, it meant that after tonight he wouldn’t see her for the rest of the week.

Mary Margaret had also given him a strict list of topics to discuss. He was to ask each of the women about their backgrounds, their hopes and dreams, everything that he didn’t care about. It was going to be a very boring evening.

He still had a few hours to kill before his ‘primp and pramp’ crew were due to arrive so he went for a run hoping to clear his mind, and possible hoping to see a certain blonde out running too. He knew it was unlikely at this time of day, and still wasn’t sure how she and the other girl had managed to sneak out of the mansion undetected, but he still couldn’t help the small pang of disappointment that formed when he got to the docks and no one was there.

He stayed at the docks for a while thinking about everything he had gotten himself into. Two years ago he had his whole life planned out. He was going to propose to Milah. They would travel the world together, touring with the band. By now they might of even had a kid. But then again, Killian Jones wasn’t meant to have the happy ending.

Instead, he was here making a fool of himself. He couldn’t understand how this could possibly help his public image, and he wasn’t even sure if he cared. His music career was dead, his friends all gone, and he swore he would never love again.

He watched the waves rolling in and out until he finally felt a smidgen of calm wash over him. He could do this. Emma would be there tonight and that would keep him entertained. He’d figure out the next two days as they came. Regina had mentioned that he might be able to call Robin or Will on the blackout day that came after each rose ceremony. He just had to hold on a couple more days.

He ran back to the guesthouse, still keeping an eye out for Emma just in case, but she never appeared. He chugged a bottle of water from the fridge, admitting to himself that his newfound sobriety, even if not by choice, was having a positive effect on his body. He didn’t feel as sluggish and crabby anymore.

Once in the shower, he took his time, letting the hot water relax his muscles. As images of the blonde minx rushed through his head, he considered allowing himself to relieve tension elsewhere but decided against it, for the time being at least.

As he exited the shower he wrapped himself in a towel, taking in the time. He still had about thirty minutes before anyone would be there. He sighed and plopped down on his bed and fell asleep.

Ruby had picked out a light pink dress for Emma to wear and helped her pull her hair into a fancy ponytail, as well as helping with applying her makeup. It wasn’t that Emma was trying to impress anyone as much as Ruby was forcing her to dress up.

When Ruby was done and gave Emma her seal of approval, Emma slipped downstairs into the dinning room ignoring the camera crew already in place. No one else had arrived yet. She looked around the room. New darker drapes had been hung over the windows and a fire was lit in a huge fireplace. The table had been set with fancy china and crystal wine glasses were set out along the table.

There was a place setting at one end of the table, clearly designated as the head of the table meant for Killian, while the other end remained empty. She should have picked a spot near Killian, in case Tamara tried to lunge a steak knife at his head, but as she stood there overthinking everything, she found herself migrating to the chair furthest away.

She took her seat and two other girls arrived. They were engrossed in a conversation as they took their seats and Emma remained silent. One at a time, the remaining girls dwindled into the room, with Tamara and Elsa taking to two seats closest to where Killian would sit.

Once all of them were seated, Agent White ushered Killian into the room. He was actually charming for once, undoubtedly having been coached by the pixie on how to behave. He sat at the end of the table and greeted each woman. As he got to her, she noticed what seemed like a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but it was gone so quickly she wasn’t sure if she had imagined it or not.

A caterer appeared with wine filling up each glass to the brim. It was apparent that the network executives hoped alcohol would lower everyone’s inhibitions, judging by how the man was constantly refilling their half empty glasses. A separate man appeared bringing a tray of salads for everyone. It was then that Killian finally spoke.

“So, I thought that this would be a nice intimate way for me to learn a little bit more about each of you. Perhaps we could go around the table and you could each tell me a little about yourself, including your jobs, hopes for the future.”

She averted her gaze as much as possible, focusing intently on a cherry tomato in her salad. When she did look up, she found him watching all of the other girls but not her. She couldn’t understand why she felt slightly disappointed, since she was positive she hated everything about him.

She hated the way he flirted, they way he’s wiggled his eyebrows at her. She hated the way he winked at her, the way he made her blush for no good reason. She hated how cocky he was, and how he viewed women as conquests. She hated how attractive he was and the way he knew it. And most of all, she hated how bothered she was that he was ignoring her.

She really hated how focued he had been while Elsa and Tamara had spoken. Tamara explained that she was a corporate lawyer, clearly news to Emma. She told him that all she really wanted out of life was to find a man that she could treat like a king. It wasn’t original by any means, but it was enough to make Emma want to vomit.

Elsa talked about how she had been to Julliard and was an aspiring musician, pointing out what a great pair she and Killian would make.

Emma really, really hated when Will came through her ear making suggestions of what they actually wanted to do with Killian.

“Oi, I bet she’d love to make some sweet music with him. Maybe try to show him how well she can play an oboe! If Killian were here, he would tell us about how many of these woman have probably screwed a guy to his music while picturing him.”

Emma was still silently fuming at Will, which is why she completely missed the fact that a new plate had arrived in front of her, or that Killian had called her name twice trying to get her attention. His eyes showed a flash of concern, which quickly shifted into a look of victory.

“Sorry, um, not much to tell.”

“Perhaps you’re right. This whole hopes and dreams thing is a bit boring isn’t it? What would you lot say to a game?”

He shifted back in his seat looking like the cat that ate the canary. The other girls at the table squealed in delight and Emma groaned to herself. She really, really, really hated where this was going.

Some of the girls suggested a few games such as twenty questions, never have I ever, and even spin the bottle but Killian shot them all down.

“I’m thinking about a nice round of truth or dare.”

One of the girls clapped excitedly and Emma continued to move some carrots around her plate with her fork.

The game started off pretty innocently. Everyone went back and fourth mostly choosing truth. Around the twenty-minute mark, things started getting a bit more personal. When Killian picked truth, Tamara asked him if he wore boxers or briefs. He asked the girl sitting next to Emma how long it had been since she had sex. One of the girls who was now officially drunk even asked Killian how big it was.

“Trust me, darling, when I say it’s plenty big, and then some.” He punctuated it with a wink.

Emma had remained silent through the entire ordeal, and had never been so grateful to be ignored. It wasn’t until Killian announce that it would be the last round of the night that Emma first felt his eyes boring into the side of her head.

“Emma, truth or dare?”

“Neither,” she mumbled.

“Now Emma,” her name a warning on his lips, “that’s bad form and you know it.”

Emma rolled her eyes for the hundredth time that night. “Fine, dare I guess.” She wasn’t ready to spill any secrets in a room full of strangers.

His face lit up. He was about to pounce.

“I dare you to kiss me.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “What?” It was almost a scream. She heard Will choke on whatever he’d been eating, as shocked at the suggestion as she was.

He leaned forward. “You heard me, love. One tiny kiss won’t hurt you, unless you’re afraid you’ll fall madly in love with me afterwards.”

“No, absolute not.”

“Now Emma, didn’t we just say it was bad form not to play by the rules?”

“Okay, Jones, you want to talk about good form? How would it possibly be considered good form to force me to do something I don’t want to do?” She was livid.

He looked down at the table, his jaw clenched.

“You’re absolutely right. How about a truth then?” He looked at her waiting for her response. She heard Agent Charming clear his throat reminding her of why she was there.

“Fine.”

He looked her straight in the eyes. “Have you ever been in love?”

He couldn’t have possible understood how deep that question cut her. How many horrible memories it brought back of Neal and his betrayal. All of her walls hardened as she stood up from the table, willing herself not to shed a tear.

“No, I have never been in love.” She spat the words out at him.

She didn’t wait for anyone to say anything more. She walked out of the room refusing to acknowledge the voices calling after her. She went straight to her room slamming the door shut and locking it behind her.

Ruby sat up from where she was lying in her bed.

“Emma, are you okay? What happened?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

Emma locked herself in the bathroom letting the sounds of the shower drown out the world around her. She curled herself up into a ball and allowed herself to cry. For an hour she stayed there, letting the water wash away the pain. When she finally emerged, Ruby was fast asleep and Emma crawled into her own bed cursing herself for ever having been so stupid.

#If Looks Could Kill #ILCK #wellhellotragic #hellotragic #cs ff

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thinkingaboutsanfrancisco · 5 years

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Like water bursting free from the confinements of the dam, he finally starts to pour out the cocktail of sweet, delectable, context for me. It quickly drowns out his meaningless suggestion of being concise, but I'm not going to refute statements of immunity. I'm not mad, his lack of pith doesn't bother me. Shocking, I know, but at this point it's the only thing that is going to get me to any potential realm of understanding so I can possibly add anything of value before I eventually return home and resume anxiously stewing in my own regrets. It has to be getting late by now. Pulling out my phone and openly checking the time would be rude, so I have to take a long deep breath to still that pestering, habitual, urge. My homework was done on Friday night, surviving school on no sleep is a mastered art by now, my phone hasn't buzzed and the owl cars can carry me home if need be. I don't need to look at it. I don't need to be reminded again. Shifting more towards him, I extend my arm on the back of the bench and bring it up to rest my cheek on my palm, tuning into the spectacular story of S and Lyd.

It all begins when they're...even younger than I am? Really? Yes, he's older than me, but not by much. Certainly not enough to warrant this old man-whippersnapper dynamic he keeps putting us in. But, technically, he is right. They're...thirteen and fourteen? Middle school?! Oh Jesus Christ...

Say no more, S. I get exactly the nauseatingly obnoxious tone you're going for. Anything that sprouts in eighth grade is destined to be a fucking weed. I seriously believe that it'd be best if we just abolished that year completely, let puberty set in some so that no one has to witness the horrifying process and then resume in highschool. The slight decrease in bullshit exposure would have a major impact on the state of humanity, I assure you.

His story starts off more Wonder Years wholesome than initially expected. He sees her, that dangerously random and impalpable switch is flipped in his head where everything else in his world is rendered nebulous and she's now the only thing he can focus on, he does something with it and asks her out, gets luckier than a lotto winner when she agrees, and they date. I have to admit that I'm continuing to struggle thinking of him as anything other than his current form of a lanky college student by day and my coke supplier by night. Trying to visualize his last story that took place this morning was hard enough, but I eventually could conjure it. Beyond our burners and serving our burnouts, there's always the shining side of the coin: the life that makes walking carefully through these shadows worth enduring. It might've taken a while to grasp, the autopilot we run on out here that blinds us to the human qualities of our customers and dealers takes a minute to switch off, but it's not too hard to buy him having it to comfort someone who means something to him. We've all had to be someone's shoulder to cry on at least once in our lives, him selling me discounted grams and eight balls on a Friday night doesn't exclude him from doing that on a Saturday. He's human too.

Him as a teenager though, younger than I am...I fucking can't. I keep having to put his current self in as a visual placeholder, despite knowing damn well that he didn't have facial hair or probably as long of a drawl at fourfuckingteen, but what the hell else can I do? Imagine him freaking out on her with that same cracking barely pubescent voice that I mouthed off with too? I'd rather not. It's an amusing discrepancy but just makes it more glaringly obvious of my weird spot that I've put myself in: too deep to where I'm hooked, still not deep enough to make something out of it. I need to settle down though. He's still setting up the foundation for me and I find my lips spreading into a sardonic grin when he puts out a metaphor he knows I understand. Addiction. But him being addicted to her being akin to how he's addicted to his favorite movie is such a saccharine view of it that my stomach turns like I've eaten too many Pixie Sticks. He doesn't realize how natural his voice picks up that speed, how his eyes can still grow that agape and filled with wonder. Everything he's talking about is so innocuous that it's practically rated G, which should be a welcome change given the complete smut film that was this morning, but I've seen that same foolish look in so many other people that I can't revel in the glory of that summer pinnacle he continues to hold within him now. It's a good thing too. The comedown's already here and, while there's never any subtly to the crash, there's something painful in his frank brevity. He has to rip this moment off like a band-aid because it still hurts to think about a decade or so later and...

Is this what's going to happen to me?

I know everything feels eternal on a bad night but...is it truly going to be like this forever? Am I still going to want to bash my phone against my head over all of my miscues with Ray when I'm my fucking twenties?

Quit worrying about it. I won't even know her then.

Surely I'm never gonna cross her mind twice once she graduates and leaves my sight for better pastures---or even before if she caught my stupid drift and already said bon voyage in my inbox. God knows where the fuck I'll be, but she's too good to let herself linger in my rotting brain. She's like a shooting star, a bright little blip that dazzles into my highschool life as quickly as it leaves the sky with nothing and all I can do is sit here in the dark and watch. That's just how the world works.

You can't control fate like that.

I wish I could tell New Year's Eve 2006 S this, maybe it could've spared 2015 S from having to recount a story that chews up my silly moment of existentialism and spits it out...

Initially, it doesn't start off bad but that's becoming a reoccurring theme so I'm able to brace myself for the first bout of secondhand cringe. It's nine years ago, he's drunk and oblivious this time, and she unexpectedly breaks up with him. New Year, New Me makes me groan, but it's manageable. Unlike what happens next...

"My best friend, he looks at me, and he says - I saw Lydia making out with some guy in the bathroom. Before she broke up with you.”

Any humor that I could ever have found in this situation has drained out of me like the warmth in my body as I just stare at him, struck as stunned as his friend who had the misfortune of watching it unfold. The maniacal laugh is back again, but it does nothing to shake me from being frozen by the complete and total violation of trust that thank god I've only had to aurally witness. If anything, I at least can understand his reaction now. Hell, I can fucking respect it. It must've taken years to develop the ability to even breathe normally again after hearing about that, much less pace back and forth trying to escape the inescapable. I can't even fucking move, despite my brain screaming at me to tell him that I absolutely don't want to hear anything more chilling because I think I've heard enough of this story that I've regretfully asked for. I get the jest. They had a decade long unstable relationship, everybody's wrong, and the right thing to do is for them to not get back together again. Fuck, I can even offer him a slice of optimism now. It's a good thing that it didn't work out today, S. It's a really good thing. She's as insouciant with your feelings now as she was then and the only way it's ever going to stop is if you stop being oblivious and quit letting her walk all over you. You know it and--- "It was a day after I told her I loved her for the first time. She said it back, but…I guess she didn’t mean it, huh? Anyway..."

Now I do too.

He keeps going on, something about 2008 and...I don't know why the hell he feels it necessary to bring up James Dean but it doesn't matter. I can't listen and I don't have to. There's absolutely nothing that he can say or she could do that could shock me more than that. There's nothing anybody could do that's worse. Her physically ripping into his chest and taking his heart only to run over it several times before apathetically tossing it back to him would've been better...at least the pain would have to stop after a while and he wouldn't have to linger with the chronic ache he's been suffering from. It's humane in comparison to her fatal lie...but... "I feel like I’m fucking dying. My head hurts. So that’s the brilliant story of how I went balls deep on my ex-girlfriend right after she got cheated on. You like it? You got any fucking thoughts? Let me know. Let me know, because I’m about to have a conniption if I can’t find any reason in her unceremonious sort of break-up text. Swear to god..."

If it weren't for that, I'm not sure I'd ever be able to come back to the present...which is weird because I've never physically left it. Every memory of his is new information to me and there's so much of it that it actually makes what was exchanged with her tonight seem like an eternity ago. I have to remember that he's supposed to be the one who committed a heinous act by sleeping with her after her boyfriend cheated on her, I have to remember that she came to him crying over it, I have to remember that she isn't totally heartless and that he was the only person who's ever truly been there for her. I have to remember that this is my drug dealer and some girl I've never even met and...I have to remember to be careful. I'm definitely in too deep now and it'd be just about my luck if my fate got sealed out here without any coke at stake just because I saw past all of the nostalgia and possessed the audacity to call a spade a spade.

Maybe that's why he called me out here. Maybe I'm the only person who can say it.

My eyes close as I remove the disintegrating Parliament from my lips, breathing in and trying to bring myself back to all those fucking thoughts that I had...

"Well...there is a reason. As nonsensical, unfair, and sometimes downright cruel the world can be, within it's burning core always remains a reason and...I think you know it. Or, at least, I'm led to believe you maintain a good idea of it. You said yourself that you don't know why you're surprised because it ends up in the same shit every time and I don't think you need me to elaborate on the inevitability of the result. You two are not meant to be, and no matter how good both of your intentions are or everything else that's changed in your lives, this decade long track record cements the truth. She knows what you want and if she couldn't give that to you ten years ago and couldn't give it today, she's not going to give it to you tomorrow either. The only thing that's gonna change is when you realize that Lyd the majestic fucking angel is a joke that you don't have to keep falling fool to. You shouldn't have slept with her last night and she shouldn't have slept with you either, you're both wrong and you've both have been wrong. You've come full circle. We can sit here for another two hours and agonize over how shittily she's gone about it, but the fact is that it was honest. Brutally honest, but that's become her specialty. At least it's clarity. She's decided to move on and, if you want to finally break this long and suffocating chain, you should too. No one person is worth that much pain."

#/stopyourtrain #the bros #04122015

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