#so the explanation was that i was put in the electric chair

[just-a-honey-badger]

psst

hey

how are you after the electric chair?

idk man i'm just kinda wiggly n stuff

[calaisreno]

Under the Weather

There are days when everything goes wrong. I don't mind, as long as you're with me.

1731 words / Prompt: Weather

When John pushes the door open, he’s hit with a Baltic blast of air from within. This is surprising; it’s a cold day, but generally 221B is a bit warmer than outdoors. 

“What’s going on?” he asks the bundle of blankets on the sofa. 

“Not much,” Sherlock replies. “Lestrade called with a case. I solved it over the phone.”

John lets out a sigh; it becomes a small, vaporous cloud. “I mean, why is it so cold in here?”

“The temperature outdoors is minus seven degrees. In here, it is four degrees above zero. Eleven degrees warmer. You ought to be asking me, why is it so warm in here?”

“I mean,” John says, keeping his jacket buttoned and sinking into his chair, “Why is it bloody four degrees inside our flat?”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say that? The boiler’s broken.”

“Have you rung someone?”

The blanket bundle sighs. “Mrs Hudson is away, visiting her sister.” He’s using his patient voice, which means that John is going to have to shout if he wants an explanation. “I don’t know how to fix a boiler, and there’s no service tag on it, so I don’t know who to call.”

“You might have looked in the phone book. They do list people who fix boilers, you know.”

Sherlock waves a hand dismissively. The hand is wearing a purple mitten, which probably came from Mrs Hudson’s knitting basket. “This is 2010. Who uses phone books these days?”

“Maybe the internet knows who fixes boilers?”

Sherlock wags mittened hands at him. “Fingers frozen. Can’t type.”

“And all day you’ve been waiting here for me to come home and save you from freezing to death?”

The pile of blankets mumbles. 

“What?”

“I said, you’re better at dealing with boilers.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to call someone to fix a boiler, Sherlock.”

“Exactly.” A pair of grey eyes and a pink nose peep out of the blankets. “The electricity still works. Can you make tea? That might thaw my fingers.”

Cursing softly to himself, John fills the kettle. At least the pipes haven’t frozen, though that might be next. He sets it on the base, and flicks it on. The light remains unlit. “What did you do to the kettle?”

“Oh, erm. Why do you ask?”

“It’s not working.”

“It is a very old kettle. They don’t last forever, you know.”

“Oi!” He holds up the base. “Why is the cord no longer connected to the base?”

More mumbling. He catches the word experiment and something about microwave not working either…

Cursing a bit louder, John opens his laptop and searches for someone who will repair a boiler. He casts an evil look at the sofa as he dials the first one he finds. 

A minute later he ends the call. “It’s after hours,” he announces. “And the weekend is just starting. I left a message.”

He tries three more numbers, then five more, leaving increasingly desperate messages. 

For a moment he sits, eyes closed, and contemplates the long, cold weekend that lies ahead. Maybe the telly works, at least. He takes the remote and presses the power button. 

“Cable’s out too,” Sherlock’s voice says. He still in his blanket pod, but knows John well enough to anticipate his thought process. “Ice on the lines.”

“Well,” John says. It’s all fine for Sherlock, who is in a cocoon, unaffected by the weather inside the flat. “I’ll be upstairs putting on my arctic gear.”

“I’ll call for takeaway,” Sherlock says.

John’s room is even colder than downstairs. This is mainly because water has been leaking through a hole in his ceiling. The hole is a surprise, an unhappy one. Not big enough to see sky, but enough to let water in. This morning, before it started to rain and the temperature began to drop, followed by ice and snow, the ceiling was intact. His room was nice and warm—and dry. 

There’s no way he can blame Sherlock for the age of the roof, the weather’s bad timing, or the bad luck that hovers over John like a small, dark cloud.

He curses loudly as he opens drawers, hunting for his long johns and wool socks. Finding them, he sits on the bed and curses again as water soaks into his pants.

“Bloody buggering hell! What did I do to deserve this!” 

The fates have no answer for this.

Finally, having discarded his wet pants, donned his long johns, wool socks, a pair of corduroy trousers that fit over the long johns, a polo neck pullover, and the warmest jumper in his drawer, he heads down the stairs, cursing at a volume loud enough for the other resident of the flat to hear.

The sitting room is silent, the lump on the sofa unmoving. 

“There’s a hole in the roof!” he announces. “My bed is soaked through.”

“We could make a fire in the hearth,” Sherlock suggests. He’s poking his head out now, looking like a curly-headed turtle. 

“By we, I assume you mean me.” John grabs the blanket off the back of his chair and wraps it around his shoulders before sinking into the chair. “Do we have any firewood?”

“A relevant question.”

“Look, I won’t mind burning some of your books if it’ll keep me warm.”

“My books are valuable. You might try burning some of those idiotic spy novels you read. But there’s some firewood downstairs, by the back door. I’m sure Mrs Hudson won’t mind us using it. Better than coming home and finding our stiff, dead corpses—”

“Let’s not talk about corpses right now.” Not while I’m thinking about killing you. “Did you order some food, I hope?”

“Angelo’s is closed, due to weather. I ordered Chinese.”

 “Thank god.” John leans back in his chair. Every muscle in his back is tight from a very long day, and he’s shivering hard, wishing for a cup of tea. 

He hears movement from the sofa and opens his eyes. Sherlock stands, shedding his blankets. He’s dressed in a pair of John’s tracksuit bottoms, John’s Christmas jumper, and wool socks that look suspiciously like they came out of John’s sock drawer. 

He’s glaring down at John with concern (if such a thing is possible). “Stop shivering.”

“Involuntary response,” he replies, teeth chattering. “That’s my jumper you’re wearing.”

“I didn’t have anything warm enough.”

“You made fun of that jumper at our Christmas drinks thing.”

“Well, it’s more appropriate now, isn’t it?” He arranges one of his blankets around John, tucking him into his chair. Then he strides out the door. 

When he returns with a bundle of firewood, John is reflecting that there won’t even be hot water. No bath to warm him up. Just Chinese food and blankets.

The fire is looking somewhat robust by the time the doorbell rings. 

The Chinese food helps, though it’s been in transit long enough that it’s not very hot. Sherlock apologises for the tea kettle. And the microwave. When they’ve eaten, he collects the empty cartons and takes the leftovers into the kitchen. 

“Fridge still works,” he calls out. “Just warning you, though. It will probably stop when the indoor temperature drops below freezing.”

“Look on the bright side,” John replies. “We’ll be stiff, dead, corpses by then. Beyond caring about milk for the tea we can’t make.”

Sherlock comes back with a bottle and two glasses. “Here’s something to warm us up.”

He hands John a glass and pours. “Happy anniversary, John.”

John laughs. “Right. One year living at 221B. I didn’t expect you’d care about things like that.”

“Why not? One year is the longest I’ve managed to cohabit with anyone. It’s been… good.” He sits down, his face pink in the firelight.

“It has been good,” John admits. He remembers the first time he came through the door, saw Sherlock’s clutter, and wondered what he was getting himself into. He remembers carefully probing, trying to determine whether Sherlock might be interested…

Well, nothing ever goes to plan. That’s the story of John’s life.

He leans back, all the weariness of the day dragging his eyelids down. 

“John, wake up.”

“Mm?” He sighs and opens his eyes. 

Sherlock is standing over him. “You can’t sleep in your chair. In the morning your neck will hurt.”

“True, but my bed has become an ice floe.”

“Sleep in my bed.”

“What? Oh, you’ll take the sofa.”

Sherlock shakes his head. “Self-preservation, John. Body heat.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We must sleep together.”

“Together?”

“It’s the only way.”

“You want to sleep with me?”

“Science, John. If your core temperature drops too low, you die. And all the firewood is gone, so we have to improvise.”

Improvise, indeed. The bedroom is colder than the sitting room, but the bed is large and, more importantly, not a frozen slab of ice. Keeping their clothes on, they crawl under the covers and move towards one another. Sherlock’s arms go around him, and John lays his head against Sherlock’s chest. 

It feels like something they do all the time. Or something they should have done months ago. 

John shivers a bit, not from the cold. Sherlock smells like kung pao chicken and expensive scotch. 

“Skin-to-skin might be warmer,” Sherlock says. “We shouldn’t take chances.”

John giggles. “Is the boiler really broken?”

“Of course. Did you think I was only trying to get you into my bed?”

“Sherlock.” He feels Sherlock’s nose with his own. It’s like an icicle. “You could have had me in your bed a long time ago, if that’s what you wanted.”

Sherlock is silent. He buries his face in John’s shoulder. “Really?”

“I didn’t think you wanted that.”

“Neither did I.”

“Do you?”

“Everything went wrong today,” he whispers. “And then you came home.”

“This was an especially bad day.” John snuggles into him. “The surgery was full of snotty kids and over-protective parents. Nothing interesting, just mucus and vomit. I didn’t get any lunch. The bus was late. And when I came home, it was freezing. But you were here.”

“John.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t mind all the things that are wrong, as long as you’re with me.”

“Not that I want more misery, but…” John kisses his nose. “You’re the one I want to share it with.”

Sherlock kisses John’s nose, then his lips, lingering. “Let’s get these clothes off before we freeze to death.”

[deandoesthingstome]

Walk with Me - Ch 6

Pairing: FBI Agent!Syverson x OFC, Drug Czar!August Walker x OFC

Chapter Summary: Dinner with Francesca and August; plans are revealed.

Chapter Warnings: Light dom/sub behavior, drinking, oral sex (m receiving), implied unprotected p in v sex, fingering, anal sex, implied torture.

Word Count: 3.6K 

Masterlist: For full series Summary and Warnings

Spotify Playlist: The last three songs (16-18) now belong to this chapter.

Francesca

I knew August was looking for information. He was more agitated than usual and it was apparent he had an idea now that someone had infiltrated his organization. He began to call on me at the most inopportune moments, and I couldn’t tell if he was hoping or not to catch me in a lie. I did hear him trying desperately to convince Mateo his misgivings about me were wrong. I needed to put a stop to any hint of Sy sniffing around, if only to help prove Matteo wrong. August asked about the FBI when we had dinner at his home one evening.

“I’m glad you were able to get free tonight for me, Francesca.”

“August, you know I always come when you call. I’ve had to shuffle a few things around at the gym lately, and they’re starting to get annoyed, but I guess I can always find another studio if I have to.” I took a sip of the wine August had chosen to pair with our meal, tipping my tongue out to catch a small drop of red, drawing his eyes to my lips.

“You know I don’t mean to cause any hardship for you. I wouldn't want to take you away from anywhere else you’d rather be.”

“Now, where else would I rather be, baby, besides right here with you when you want me?”

“Heard from that old ex of yours lately?” August asked, keeping an even voice and betraying with a raised eyebrow only a small hint of the jealousy that I could sense was bubbling beneath the surface.

“Is that where you think I’d rather be? August, you wound me.”

“Francesca. Have you seen him again since he first contacted you?” It was clear August suspected, but I didn’t think he really knew anything. Not now that he’d discovered the guard he had on me had been less than observant on probably more than one occasion. I gave him an answer that I could tell shocked him.

“Yes.” 

August waited for me to elaborate and I continued almost immediately with barely a hesitation.

“He came by the gym one day. My class was canceled and I was on my way out. He invited me to dinner.” I paused then, and gauged his reaction. I wondered if he could feel me doing so. “I declined, if you care to know.”

“There’s no need to be a brat about it. What night was this?” he asked me.

“It was a day, August. Middle of the day.” When I told him what day it was, he clenched his jaw. “You can call the gym, check the logs. He showed up, worked out, chatted me up, and then I left before him.”

“Alright, but was there a night you didn’t spend at home?”

“Why do you think I spent any night away from the apartment?”

“Maybe you should just answer my questions without any more sass. Or are you looking for something tonight?”

I stared defiantly back at him, because I was. I could see him getting turned on and imagined his dick was probably already hard. It shouldn’t turn him on to have me so disagreeable, but it did. He narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and waited for my answer. I think it hurt his feelings that I simply carried on with my explanation rather than admitting what I wanted from him.

“The electricity went out in my building one night. I called a friend to see if I could stay over. It was incredibly hot that day and I was never going to be able to sleep without AC. She picked me up and it wasn’t until I got back the next morning that I realized I’d forgotten my phone.”

And then I picked right back up with my insolence.

“But I noticed there were no missed calls or messages from you anyway.” I took another drink, with a devilish smirk on my lips.

“Get up,” he growled at me.

“But I’m not done eating, August.”

“You are. Get up. Now.” August watched as I shoved my chair back and stood. “Now if you want something else to fill that bratty little mouth of yours, why don’t you crawl on over here?”

I saw the pleasure on his face as I sank to my knees before placing my hands on the plush rug beneath the dining table and slowly made my way to him, eyes connected to him the entire time. He turned his seat to face me.

“I am still hungry,” I purred when I reached his lap. “What else did you put on the menu tonight?”

August leaned back in his chair and spread his legs wide as he rested one arm on the table beside him and smoothed the other down his inner thigh.

“Is this one of those meals I have to prepare myself?” I dared to tease and I could see through his pants the way August got even harder as I continued to dish out the attitude.

“It’s practically ready now. You just have to take it out.”

I reached up to unzip his trousers then slipped a hand through the opening of his silk boxer shorts and licked my lips at the sight.

“I have to warn you, I’m particularly ravenous tonight,” I smiled up at him as he drew his hand to my head and pulled me closer.

“It’s a good thing this is all for you then.” 

August pulled my head down and closed his eyes as he struggled not to thrust his hips when my mouth wrapped around him. He simply guided me lower and when I opened for him, the look on his face betrayed the way he relished the feel of the back of my throat and the way I gagged while trying to swallow my saliva around his dick. I looked up at him and he opened his eyes to watch the tears of pleasure spill down my face. I never shied away from choking on his dick and I held my own as he began to bob my head in earnest. I kept my mouth wide open when he finally drew me away from his lap just before he grabbed a hold of his own cock to finish himself. He loved watching his seed drip down my face. I knew it made it so much easier for him to get hard again, especially when I swiped my fingers through his spend and wrapped my lips around them to suck them clean.

In the post orgasmic haze after he’d taken me to bed and defiled me a few more ways, he sat up to ask me a question and I noticed he watched my reaction carefully.

“We’re going on another trip, you and I. We’ll return separately this time. I have something I need to bring into the country and I want you to carry it for me. Will you do that for me?”

With some hesitancy, I agreed. I hoped August would take it as a sign that Matteo was nothing but wrong about me. I needed him to feel I was truly and deeply his and that I was only just now beginning to understand that the club wasn’t his only business. 

I was late to the rendezvous back in the States, but I did arrive with all the cargo still intact. After apologizing profusely, I stayed quiet and demure, presenting an obvious change from my behavior at previous meetings when he didn’t think I had a clue what business was going down. Now I remained meek and a little wide-eyed as I watched him complete his business transaction, trading a portion of the drugs for a few large duffles of cash. 

Later in bed, I broached an earlier subject with what was obviously surprising new information for him.

“August, I have to tell you something,” I said, drawing circles over his chest with my fingertips.

“What is it, love?” 

“I’m worried about you.”

“Worried how?”

“Is what we did this time what you do all the time? Is that what taking care of business is for you?”

“Are you having a hard time calling it what it is, Francesca? Did you think I only bought the drugs you and I used together?”

I sat up to face him. “I always wondered, but I didn’t know until now. And it worries me. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

“What trouble would I get into? Are you worried about your FBI friend?”

“August, he’s not my friend anymore. Please you have to believe me. But it does worry me. You said there was nothing to worry about, that he had nothing on you. But we’ve just moved a shit ton of illegal drugs into the country. That doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

“Everything is under control, Francesca. There’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I have plans to get out of that business.”

“Sooner or later?”

“What is with all these questions?”

“It’s just…okay, look. Please don’t be mad. I don’t want you to think I’ve been taking advantage of you. This really did just happen.”

August sat up now himself, as if he was suddenly concerned about the direction this conversation was headed.

“What really just happened, Francesca?”

“It’s honestly perfect timing. It means we could leave here now, leave everything behind and never look back. I have a house now, in Europe, that no one knows about. And enough in a trust fund to keep us set for the rest of our lives together.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” August was becoming agitated. This was new information and I could tell it concerned him that he didn’t know it was a possibility that I wasn’t the down-on-her-luck struggling yoga instructor he thought I was. He must be wondering who had dropped the ball on my background search.

“August, I love you. I don’t want to see you get into trouble. I want us to be together and I don’t think it’s safe here for you any longer. Give the club to someone else and walk away with me.”

August

August was now convinced Francesca wasn’t a threat to him, and he wanted the same to be true for the rest of his team, but someone was talking out of school and he needed to find out who. August and Mateo conferred in quiet corners and behind closed doors. Assignments were given to test loyalties, background checks run again to see if any conflicting information would appear. 

Mateo was still not convinced about Francesca, especially knowing she had connections no one uncovered before and he told August it was for the best that he didn’t loosen her security detail. August continued to put her off, every time she brought up getting out of the business and hoped he could eventually convince her to let that go. A second home in Europe would be most welcome, but he was never gonna give up his life and run away. 

A couple weeks later, after even more new information had turned up, August finally had what he needed. He knew who was spying and he knew how he wanted to take care of it. No one would ever expect they’d be taken to Paris to be exposed and taught the ultimate lesson. 

He had Francesca packed and ready to go when security arrived to drive them to the airport. It was a quiet flight, even if August did give in let her suck him off in the first class cabin. He really did have such a hard time denying her when she got down on her knees for him. The pout on her face when he wouldn’t let her climb onto his lap might have broken a weaker man.

When they arrived at the hotel, he watched Francesca unpack as he always did. He loved to watch the surprise on her face each time she pulled a new item from the bag and she was always eager to put his choices on display for him. His impeccable taste never failed him; every last article of clothing and accessories complimented her body in a way he imagined she had never felt before. It was as if the act of choosing her attire was the first stage of foreplay August used when he made love to her. If his fingers couldn’t caress her, the fabric and material would, molding to her body and holding her firm.

He spent the afternoon ravishing Francesca in bed, chasing every high he could get as if it might be the last. He tasted every inch of her body, nipping and tonguing along the curves and lines, dipping into the valleys. He held her down, wrists above her head, strong legs spreading her wide while he worked his fingers deep into her, stretching and stroking and smoothing and coaxing early waves of pleasure from her.

August swallowed her gasps of pleasure and howls for more, his lips crushing hers while his tongue slid in deep beside hers. He flipped her over and hauled her ass into the air, kneading and squeezing and groping as he bent low and pressed his tongue along her slit, tasting all the slick she’d made just for him.

He knew it was for him by the way she cried his name, begged him to relieve her, and pleaded for a final release. She was a mess and he still wasn’t done. With his cock deep in her drenched pussy, he popped his thumb in his mouth and licked some saliva on it so when he pressed it against her tight pucker it slipped in with ease. Francesca backed right into it with no hesitation and he knew he’d be able to get all the way in again tonight. She was absolutely ready and wanting that.

He took some time lubing and loosening her up. He had three fingers in with his cock still pumping and she wasn’t showing any signs of wanting him to stop. When August finally pushed the tip in, he could feel the way she drew him in. God, how she wanted to be fucked in the ass.

He did that for her, or so he told himself. He couldn’t quite admit that even if she hadn’t wanted it tonight, he may have taken her this way sooner or later. It was what gave him the ultimate orgasm and it was only a bonus that she loved it, too. August thought about how it might have been fun to add a man to their bed so she could choke on a dick while getting railed from behind, in either hole. 

Once they were cleaned up and dressed, August ushered Francesca down to the hotel lobby to meet Mateo for the drive to the club.

“August, baby. This isn’t the way to the club,” Francesca commented, glancing out the window.

“And how would you know the way to the club, darling? We’ve never been here together before.” He watched her closely, scanned her face and body for any twitch, any shiver, any tell. As always, he found nothing.

“The GPS says,” she answered, pulling her hand up from beside her and showing him the mapping app that was clearly flashing to recalculate a route. “I always love to see directions. It helps me get used to the city. God, I hope we come back here someday. I always wanted to see Paris. Now that we’re here, I never want to leave.” 

Francesca turned back to peer out the window again and August watched her marvel at the lights and buildings around them. For all her sharp edges, August always found the wonder in her eyes endearing. Though he did find it odd when he realized she had most likely spent time in Europe, though she acted as if everything was brand new each time. When they pulled up to the warehouse, he restrained a small smirk when she commented that it didn’t look like the kind of club that suited her dress. 

That was her way of saying the spot looked haggard and run down and maybe a little beneath them. And of course it was. It was a warehouse. It was most definitely not a club.

August let her enter first, door held like a gentleman before he turned the handle over to Mateo and entered himself. He didn’t bother hiding the lick of his lips as he watched her ass in the tight dress strut forward in front of him. He could tell she was still horny from the afternoon.

August caught her as she stumbled back into him, seemingly to escape the sight in front of her.

“August, what is this?” He could hear her voice break when she asked the question.

“What does it look like darling?” he answered. Something in her answer would hopefully convince Mateo he had been wrong when he pointed a finger at her. August felt differently, partly due to his previous conversations with her and partly due to the very little actual evidence Mateo presented to make his case. August countered with the more obvious details that pointed to the man in the chair. 

“August, you said I had nothing to worry about with you. You said…” she leaned into him, and August thought he detected at least a hint of terror. It would be the first time she’d broken like this before him, though he was sure she barely knew this man sitting before her, beaten unconscious. Will Shaw had hardly ever been around when she was. Maybe a few nights at the club, but always on the periphery.  She didn’t know him, she could only see the state he was in, probably barely hanging on. Of course she’d flinch. This wasn’t the first time he was showing her his hand, but it was a doozy.

“August, please. Did you know what was happening here? You have to help him. You can’t let him die. If you help him, that’ll count for something,” Frankie pleaded with him. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to hurt people.”

“Francesca, you’re a very smart and resourceful woman. I’ve grown extremely fond of you. I want you with me, but you do need to know there is a dark side you haven’t seen yet. Sometimes, people work against me. Sometimes, they are looking out for themselves, trying to take from me more than they deserve. Sometimes, they have a sinister motive. Maybe they want to take my business, run me out of the game.” August walked Francesca cautiously towards Will, keeping a firm grip on her arms. “And sometimes, they want to hurt me. Sometimes they think they have the right to keep me from the work I was destined to do and they try to get me in trouble. Will here was trying to get me into trouble.”

August spun Francesca to face him, searching her eyes for understanding. 

“Francesca, do you think it’s right for someone to pretend to be someone they aren’t? And then to use that subterfuge to ingratiate themselves into my life so they could try to find unflattering details about my work?”

August watched Francesca blink and saw her pupils dilate. The way her iris had let the black overtake it told him what he needed to know: she was scared. It was good enough for him.

“Nnn..no, August,” she stammered. “But he’s really hurt. Lemme help him.”

August wasn’t prepared for the way she twisted from his grip, so she was on her knees next to Will before he had a chance to take hold of her again. He watched her touch him tentatively, perhaps checking for a pulse as she pushed his watch out of the way and set her fingers on his wrist. She set a hand on the back of his neck and tilted his head back as she pulled his eyelids gently open to check for any reaction. The way her shoulders relaxed told August Will was still alive.

“Anything you think you can do for him? It’s of no use. Francesca, this is something you need to get comfortable with. I will not allow someone to hurt me. Do you understand?”

Syverson

Frankie had been out of pocket and unreachable for weeks now. Syverson knew every move she made, along with August Walker, but the fact that she wouldn’t answer his calls or texts, even on the burner phone number he’d been given made him nervous. Or perhaps frustrated was a better word for it.

He continued to liaise with Director Marshall, usually through Ramos, and continued stacking evidence against Walker even though there was nothing he could do about it for now. His superiors weren’t happy about the fact that another agency was blocking his case, but pressure from even higher up forced them to accept the stalled state of the investigation. 

He spent days in surveillance locations and nights thinking about Frankie in his bed. He had to keep reliving those moments to fend off the visuals of her and August together. What he wouldn’t give to have her next to him again, begging for his touch.

He had signed off on the joint agency paperwork that would allow Frankie back into the country with the dope August was peddling, but he hated how much deeper she was getting with August. She was now openly transporting for him which meant August was placing his trust in her even more than before. 

Taglists

He also wanted to trust she knew what she was doing, but he feared for her safety, no matter how good of an agent she was. Victoria continued to assure him that Walter had everything under control, but he only wanted to hear it from Frankie’s mouth directly. Apparently, until the CIA was done with their case, that was never gonna happen.

Chapter 7

Everything Henry:  @sillyrabbit81 @kittenofdoomage @mayloma @kebabgirl67 @fvckinghenrycavill @geralts-yenn  @beck07990  @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato  @liveoncoffeeandflowersss   @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume  @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings  @enchantedbytomandhenry  @omgkatinka  @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @thesaucynomad @just-chirpin @henryownsme

Walk with Me only (I added you if you reblogged or asked and Tumblr would let me): @kingliam2019 @valacircareads @sofiebstar @cardierreh15​ @firstcashheroathlete​ @ylva-syverson​ @sunriserose1023​ @cavilladdict​ @angreav​ @ellethespaceunicorn​ @mis-lil-red​ @peaches1958​ @xhoneyxbeex​ @livisss​  @hangmanscoming​ 

[kenandeliza]

COMIC IDEAS MASTERLIST: ALWAYS UPDATING

And even when i have enough backlog of ideas, It's either having no time or no motivation ;w;

Ideas that have not been made into comics so far.... (a reminder for KD to actually draw them instead of being a lazy bum)

Fawcett citizens think that marvel has bad eyesight because he squints a lot, Marvel is confused. When they put on glasses on him, his dot eyes opens. This confuses marvel and the citizens even more (explanation: he does his out of instinct from seeing his dad with squinty eyes) based on mutual's post

Billy in an electric chair

Silly caller

Crutches

A comic about Captain Marvel being oblivious about the women who's flirting with him, this caused Junior to talk out of his ass "He's still mourning you idiots!", this made people believe that the wife has passwed away and captain marvel hasn't moved on yet, this can lead to a misunderstanding with Black Canary with counseling marvel [Marvel is talking about his mom and how he misses her but BC thought he was talking about his wife]. Mary proceeds to slap Jr because of his impulsiveness

What If the suspendium didn't happen? :The Marvel Family grows up normally, starts with young child reading a book to a grandpa

Billy gets cancelled

Captain Marvel snoring like a dad and Billy snoring (honk mimimimi) based on this post

Mary teaching Billy about Table Manners before meeting her adoptive mother

Mary being invited on the Wayne Gala, Billy and Freddy shenanigans ensued (they thought the wayne kid is hitting on their sister)

Mary Blackmailing Marvel to wear a tiger onesie

Crack comic: Billy Boasting over Superman because he got to join the army as Captain Marvel once but Supes didnt just because of an eye exam failure

Kid Eternity's Birthday

[Needs polish] A scenario after Batman adopted Billy, Billy told Freddy and Mary about it, Freddy has a flashback where he got adopted by rich parents and the snobby high school experience back in Captain Marvel Jr , probably ends with Junior confronting Batman to not send Billy to a hoity toity rich private school

The Marvel Family and how they handle publicity

Freddy picking up Billy's swearing habits "Holey Moley" (continues where the publicity comic ends)

Billy and his Caprisun

Billy and Freddy had a fall out but everyone else interpreted it as Junior undergoing teenage rebellion and proceeded to give the captain parenting advices [Pre Teen Parent Billy]

Post suspendium Billy in the modern DC world shenanigans (1950s boy meets 2000s)

Fawcett Toon Headcanon

Celebrity AU : Billy would post a banger song by accident online (not with his real name of course) and would later monetize it

Movie billy meets Golden Age Comic Billy/Movie Freddy meets Golden Age comic Freddy

The many hairstyles of Freddy Freeman

Captain Marvel vs Big Red Cheese

A supersons Oneshot Comic

Premise: Jon and Damian wanted to see the new Fredbear's pizzeria Movie but the clerk said they're too young to enter. With Jon being 10 and Damian not looking like his age (13).

many shenanigans ensued as they attempt to enter the movie theatre before a new villain who can bring horror movie characters to life appears!

Can the two save the theatre when they're facing against slashers, Chainsaw killers, and a Horror-knockoff of Superman?!

(We'll have to see becaude i suck at drawing fight scenes ;w;)

A Supersons small crack comic

Superboy became a bad cop and Robin became a good cop. This terrifies the criminals.

[mus1g4]

First a couple of compliments, maybe a comment or two and a couple of questions.

First off, I really like the blog very informative and interesting and well put together. I found the information you provided on electric chair execution very interesting. I also really appreciated you sharing your experience role playing execution experiences. I have always wanted to do that and reading your account of the experience makes me want to do it even more. I also enjoyed you, sharing your experiences with other execution methods, again something I’ve always thought would be fun to experience, well, maybe fun, isn’t the right word. I have always wondered what the experience of all of the most common methods of execution would be like, even more archaic ones that aren’t commonly used today Such as beheading or crucifixion. Thank you for sharing that!

I have always thought it would be a great vacation to do a jail experience and I think it’s really cool that you’re so close to where I’m at, I’m in Minnesota.

Oh, I was particularly taken by your detailed explanation of the execution protocol for the electric chair, and I agree with you, that it would have to be a total mind blowing experience to have that whole process explained to you, especially if it were going to happen for real. Are the question that came to my mind while I was reading that, is, I took special note of the diaper being used (excuse the pun). i’m curious if you can speak to the use or non-use of the diaper in other modes of execution. I have always assumed that it is something that would be employed.

Thank you again for this very interesting block, and, perhaps someday things will work out, and I could come down for a “retreat”.

Thank you very much and nice to meet you.

Diapers are deployed in the gas chamber, electric chair, firing squad, and lethal injection. It is assumed that the executee will lose bowel control.

Since the headsman and guillotine are not used in the US, I can't speak to that!.

I would very much like to throw your ass in a death row cell and watch you sweat as your last hours tick away!!

As an aside, the new nitrogen hypoxia protocol also includes use of a diaper.

[d4vynn]

All Eyes On Me

“Well, look who the cat dragged in.” 

The Wanderer glares from the doorway of your office. Electric violet eyes skim over your form slumped over the endless reports. He scoffs and shuts the door behind him. 

Your previous statement is mainly ignored, much to your disappointment. But your previous annoyance returns tenfold when he rolls his eyes- as if you were the one that disappeared without a single word. He’s finally back after three days of radio silence, yet there’s not a single explanation. Suffice it to say you’ve reached your breaking point.

Not bothering with greetings, he takes a seat opposite from you. From beneath your lashes, you watch him. There’s something off about him, but you don’t say anything.

Silently, the Wanderer watches you work. He’s obedient today. Oddly enough, you can’t help but feel bothered by that fact.

After sparing him one last glance, you sigh heavily, and your pen ceases movement. “So? Where’ve you been?” Unfortunately for your thinning patience, he only huffs and rolls his eyes. As usual, his complex personality is irritating. How you ever managed to become lovers is anyone’s guess. 

“Out.” 

The harsh screech of your chair moving back is your only response to his lackluster answer. You have to step out; you might punch him otherwise. 

“Where are you going?” He asks, rising from his seat. 

As calm and collected as you can manage, you answer in his own words. “Out.”

When the office door shuts, you hear his geta click against the floor. He’s following you, yet you make no move to stop him. 

“Hey,” he calls out.

There’s a tug on your shirt, but you jerk away, walking faster. 

“You little--” His words fall on deaf ears. Unwilling to hear him out any further, you storm out ahead of him- leaving the puppet to scramble after you. “Wait,” he finally catches you with a hand around your arm. 

Not enough to bruise, but enough to keep you in place. The Wanderer clicks his tongue at your avoiding gaze. “What’s wrong with you? Where are you going?” The end of his sentence breaks into something like worry. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Breathlessly, you laugh at his audacity. He sounds genuinely confused, which only helps to worsen your mood. “What about you, huh? You disappear for three days- you don’t even tell me why or where you went- and you come back expecting everything to be normal.” As much as you fight against his ever-tightening grip, he refuses to release your arm.

“Let me go-!” You scratch and hiss, and he might’ve laughed if he situation was different. But watching your frustrated expression turn watery, he relents and reaches into his pocket.

“The Traveler,” he says carefully, revealing a small wooden box. “They said there’s a tradition around this time of year to give gifts to their most important people.”

“Gifts?”

Reluctantly letting you go, he opens the box to reveal a beautiful silver necklace. It shimmers, and when the light hits it, you swear there’s a hint of violet. “It was supposed to be a surprise,” he’s looking between you and the necklace. “But it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

“I couldn’t find anything here, so I visited Liyue.” He almost looks guilty, but as soon as his mask slips, he’s quick to put it back up.

“You’re stupid.” You say, rubbing your eyes. “You could’ve just said that.”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise then now, would it?” 

Sending him a halfhearted glare, you allow him to put on the necklace. The cool steel caresses your skin, similar to his fingers as he pulls away. Awkwardly, he stands with his hands pressed to his sides, watching you fiddle with the pendant. 

Having enough of his hesitance, you step forward to wrap your arms around his middle. Under your touch, the Wanderer stiffens. You can feel his hands hovering above your back, reluctant but eventually giving in as he holds you just as tightly.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.” You mumble into the fabric of his shirt. The annoyance lingers, “I’m still mad at you, though.

“Yeah yeah,” he sighs; you can hear his eyes rolling. “You’re welcome.”

[sixty-silver-wishes]

okay, so it's 2 am. and I Need to make another post about completely inconsequential details in "caligari" that keep me up at night. (I should have figured out I was neurodivergent much longer ago than I did, but here we are.)

so, today I want to talk about the absolute shitfuckery that is the layout of the olsens' house. this has absolutely NOTHING to do with the plot, characters, themes, etc of the film. but the more I think about it, the more it infuriates me, because from what we can see, it makes NO SENSE. there's a simple doylian explanation here in that they had limited sets to make the film, and that of course they had to reuse some. that's fine and all. but NO. I'm watsonian as FUCK. and WE'RE GOING TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS. OKAY

so, let's get this out of the way first. the olsens are probably pretty wealthy. we don't really see any mention of class or status in the film, but there are multiple sets for their house, and we can see they likely have servants living with them (assuming the other people in their house aside from jane and her father, and possibly her mother, but we'll get to her later, aren't also members of their family). we can compare this to the sets for francis and alan's houses, which are both much smaller and similar to each other. we can see that francis has at least one other room (there's a door there), but their living spaces don't look super furnished. and look! alan's got a little kerosene lamp in the left-hand corner. keep that detail in mind

okay; so here are all the exterior and interior sets for the olsens' house-

this exterior set is used twice, but with the chairs removed the second time. it's an outdoor courtyard with an open hallway that leads to somewhere inside the house. we can also see a second story above it, so the house has at least two floors-

so first, francis and jane enter from the left side of this set (I'll call it the living room) from the outside of the house, and jane crosses to the right side, where dr. olsen comes in a moment later. so, for now, we can say that the left side of this room leads outside, while the right side leads to another room in the house.

(also, look! an electric light. we see a guy lighting a lamp with a torch earlier, we see a kerosene lamp in alan's house, and then we see an electric light switch being used in the asylum. so how holstenwall stays lit is sort of all over the place, but I think that if the olsens are wealthy and since the asylum is a medical complex, it would make sense for these locations to be prioritized during the advent of electricity. now, does the film actually take place around the advent of electricity, or is holstenwall just a rural location that's getting it later than most people?)

of course, we also see jane's room, and the size of it puts both francis and alan's houses to shame. look how BIG this set is. a lot of it is obscured by the canopy in front of the bed, so we don't get to see everything in the room, but there is a random chair just sort of. there on the floor, so there's that; it is weird that we don't really see anything in jane's room other than a bed and a chair, but if she has more space, maybe she doesn't need any other furniture right there that close to the bed.

we also see this small room with these two guys. they're in the house, and because they're sharing a room, maybe it's possible that they're servants? we also see a woman and dr. olsen enter jane's room shortly after they do, which could mean two things- either the woman is dr. olsen's wife and they're coming from the same room, or this could be another servant with her own room apart from the men.

we get back to the living room set, and once again, francis enters and exits the set from the left, while this other woman (likely a different woman from the one in the previous image) who's already in the house comes in through the right.

so, at least this room is consistent.

but do you know what ISN'T?

Remember that hallway outside the courtyard? how come earlier, we saw it lead to the living room, but when cesare enters it, he winds up outside jane's window, which is presumably on the second story of the house, as he's able to get to the rooftops from there?? HOW DID HE GET THERE. WHY DOES THAT HALLWAY LEAD TO TWO DIFFERENT PARTS OF THE HOUSE

so, we see it with chairs outside at first, and then without chairs. this is presumably so conrad veidt doesn't trip over them or whatever. but for a watsonian explanation, what is going on?? are they actually just two identical hallways on different sides of the house in-universe? or did cesare somehow wander into the living room and somehow end up outside jane's window afterwards? does the hallway lead to two different areas? how did he get to a second-story window while sleepwalking in the first place? HOW DOES THIS WORK

to be clear. by no means am I "cinemasins-ing" things. I love this movie to an unhealthy degree and this by no means hampers my appreciation for it. but because I love it way too damn much, I think way too hard about shit like this because after you've interpreted the characters and themes and stuff a zillion different ways, you gotta do something with that hyperfixation energy

[whumblr]

was reading drive and GOD dennis is that one friend everyone needs. i love that dennis is so compassionate and silent in his own way when it comes to jay talking out his own unprocessed trauma

i really wanna see more of such instances, just a 'lore drop' for dennis and how it works between them, pls give us more when u have the time 🙏

now im thinking, jay repeated twice that 'it was horrible', how did he look to dennis at that point of time? like im picturing jay just pretty distant, maybe even half dissociating through it

sometimes my heart really breaks for jay ngl, super strong mentally

Jay is pretty distant when he tells these things, yeah. He doesn't make eye contact, he just looked down at his coffe, drawn into his memories of the event. Have some more lore drop :))

-

"What's this?"

Dennis waved a hand in front of Jay's abdomen, pointing at something as they both spread out their laptops in the small conference room.

Jay glanced down, pulling at the fabric of his shirt, looking for a stain or— His heart skipped a beat.

Two little pinpricks blinked in his shirt, the white of his undershirt underneath stark against the dark blue, like two stars in the night sky.

Oh shit. Shit! He'd just tossed that shirt onto his laundry pile after Zayne had jabbed those holes into it, jabbed burns onto his body. His skin tingled underneath, still red and sensitive and, luckily, hidden. With the aftermath of the cattle prod incident, he'd completely forgot about the barely noticeable pricks.

"Nothing," he bleated out, too fast, effectively betraying himself with the single word. Why couldn't he just play it cool with a 'huh...' and leave it at that?!

Dennis glanced up, his hands planted on the table leaning over his laptop, waiting for it to boot. He looked again at the two tiny holes in Jay's shirt, and Jay could see him put two and two together. Suspicion clear to see on his face, he looked Jay in the eyes a beat longer than was comfortable. But then his gaze dropped, his attention back on his laptop and he just said, "Okay". He pulled out a chair, sat down, and didn't say any more.

Jay hesitated. He could interpret this as Dennis realising he had unintentionally breached a topic he hadn't meant to, now wanting to back out, unwilling to pry. But Dennis, unlike Jay, didn't seem uncomfortable and the silence between them was tense. Which Jay, of course, fully interpreted as a silent way to call him out on his lying bullshit... He sighed and pulled up a chair as well.

"Zayne sometimes had his experimental moods," he said, casually, typing in his password on his own laptop.

He waited for some sort of 'I literally didn't ask, man', but that break didn't come.

Dennis glanced at the pinpricks again. "Like with the noose?"

"Like wi— yeah."

"I'm guessing it didn't involve acupuncture?"

Jay gave a wry smile, not really sure if he wanted Zayne to pick up acupuncture... "Actually these are burn holes."

Dennis’ brow furrowed in confusion.

“From…” Jay stopped again, wondering which explanation would flare up Dennis the least; taser or electric shock. He didn’t even consider the words ‘cattle prod’. “They’re from a taser…” he settled on, eyes on his laptop.

He heard Dennis take a deep, sharp inhale. A curse under his breath. Then a longer, calmer exhale.

“I’m sorry.”

Jay looked up, flustered, finding Dennis’ eyes already on him. “Don’t—”

“I’m sorry you had to… experience that.”

The soft words completely caught him off guard. He swallowed hard and looked away again, feeling tears prickle behind his eyes.

“Yeah… me too.” He wanted to reassure his friend, words like ‘it wasn’t that bad’ immediately bubbling up in his brain. But memories of the event, of both electrical events, forced its way up as well, reminding him cruelly of the truth: it was bad. “I thought I could handle it… just a ‘bam, you’re out’. Y’know, like in the movies. But that didn’t happen… it just burned.”

He mixed the two electric events together. The taser had felt wildly different from the prod, more paralysing, while the cattle prod were 'just' quick little zaps. While he felt more calm sharing these things now that Den already had a basic understanding of what happened to him, he didn't want to go into too much detail.

Unlike Jay, Dennis didn’t hide behind his laptop; he listened, to more than just Jay’s stuttered words, he paid attention. And while it was… uncomfortable, to constantly feel his gaze – not yet meet his gaze – Jay also felt grateful having him so attentive. Having him care. Too deeply, really… It was a double-edged blade. For both of them. Telling this stuff hurt. Hearing this stuff hurt. Both unable to protect the other like they wanted. But hiding it… eventually just made things worse.

Dennis nodded, leaving a silence for Jay in case he wanted to tell more. He didn’t of course. Then he pulled up the protected files they had on Emery and Zayne and said: “Let’s make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Jay smiled, having no clue what was going to be waiting for him that evening. “Yeah… let’s.”

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @whumpifi @painless-and-colourful

[leafostuff]

A tale of a Bunny and Owl (Ft. Kep1er's Chaehyun) [Part 1/2]

So this is me Re releasing "The simple things" which i uploaded a while ago, i basically added some stuff and did some changes, hope you will have re reading it

Warning: Mentions of suicide and self harm, be careful

================================================

The evening came around and you are already on your 8th bag of Doritos, Netflix was running as a background music to your constant thoughts, not having much attention the content to the show itself. Your parent left you just yesterday for a vacation, not even thinking about inviting you as well but its not like the really cared, at least they were kind enough to let your teachers give you a small break to recover from your sickness, and now finally being free from everyone it seemed like the perfect day to end it, unnoticed and unbothered

You couldn't really remember when this phase of you started, and honestly you didn't even think there was a clear moment that made you feel this way. A bunch of moments through middle school which resulted in your high school life to end up broken as some people would say, making it so you couldn't really enjoy stuff any more like video games or hanging out with your friends, always reassuring them that you are fine and you were just in a bad mood today, however there was always one friend who didn't buy your stuff.

You hear a soft knock on the door that almost resembled a song of sort, you didn't bother much of checking who it was, but luckily the door opened by itself, not really caring about forgetting to lock the door as a head with pink hair popped through the crack of the door, like a bunny checking the area to see if it's safe from any predators.

“Hey….it's me” Chaehyun said in a soft tone, as she found you sitting on the couch. “You feeling well? I heard that you were sick from the teacher so I decided to come in for a visit” she asked as you didn't really want to talk, so you simply nodded. she entered the living room and turned on the lights, god the light was too strong for your eyes, making

“Oh wow…I just noticed the amount of snacks you have, well don't worry, because Chaehyun, the queen of sweets is here!” she said cheerfully as she took her bag and took out a box inside it. She then opened the box and there were a couple cookies, not something to complex, just the classic chocolate chips type of cookies, the smell sure did try to allure you to eat them.

 “Ta daaaaa! What do you think? I made those myself, you can feel free to take some” she said as she handed you the box.

“Thanks, I will eat it later” you bowed to thank her as you put the cookie box to the side of you as you were back to focusing on the Netflix series, Chaehyun suddenly sat next to you, joining you in watching the series.

“What are we watching?” she asked as she nudges closer, making your shoulders touch each other.

“Uhh…Atypical, you have seen it?” you asked her as she just shook her, “i don't know, it's like a nice show” you added, in full honesty: you had no idea what it was about, it was the first that popped up in your home page. Suddenly you feel her touching your hands.

her hand traced around yours, as she rubbed your palm slowly, feeling the fresh cut that was still there, “what happened to your hand?” she asked tilting her face ever so cutely, but in the same time it felt like you were on an electric chair, one wrong answer and you will surely be done for

“Kitchen accident” you quickly blurted out as quickly as possible. “I tried to make some sandwiches today and by accident i cutted my hand” you explained, hopefully she will take the explanation as after a few seconds she smiled, “thank god” you thought to yourself as she left your hand

“Well how about you let me treat it for you, the band-aids are in the kitchen right?” she asked while standing up from the sofa and walked toward the kitchen, you nodded and didn't give much thought about it when suddenly….

“Oh shit” you realized she maybe will find the knife you used to cut yourself, you rushed toward the kitchen, but it was already too late, Chaehyun was leaning her self on the kitchen sink, holding the knife in her hand as she looked at it.

“Blood….and freshly new” she murmured as she inched closer and closer to you and held your sleeve, shoving it away only to see the worst that she could've expected “full of cuts…” she said as you could feel her curse under her breath, as she moved away and for the first time she looked…mad?

“Listen chae….its-”

*SLAP*

The entire world stopped, frozen by the god of time himself, you could feel how the sound of slap rippled from your cheek all the way to your entire body and ending your ears, you had your hand on your right cheek, hoping it will ease but it didn't, because pain like that was only physical, Chaehyun seemed even more furious than before.

“Shut the fuck up… d-don't think i am dumb and don’t know what is this” this has caught off guard, this was the first time you've seen Chaehyun curse like that “don't tell me…” she asked as you looked away, embarrassed she finally caught you.

“b-but why? you have so mu-mu-much to live fo-for” she stuttered as tears started to form in her eyes.

“....” you couldn't speak.

“WHAT? BECAUSE YOU FEEL LIKE NO ONE CARES FOR YOU?! THAT IS NOT TRUE, WHAT ABOUT YOUR PARENTS?! WHAT ABOUT YOUR F-FRIENDS, WHAT AB-ABOUT M-M-M” finally she couldn't hold her tears anymore as finally she just lunged in and hugged you, completely thrown off guard as her hands got around your back and her face is on your chest, crying her heart out like never before, usually Chaehyun’s faces were usually between happy or pouting, but seeing her crying like that… it hurts you, more than you will believe it should. 

“Please…p-promise me your *sniff* won’t end it all, y-you have to… please?” she looked up at your eyes, tears still stuck in her eyes as you took a deep sigh and nodded. You almost thought it was for show, like your parents, but her tears felt so real as you could almost feel it flowing on your shirt

“I…will think about it” you reply, not finding any other way to get around her words, you hope those words will stop her crying.

In response Chaehyun’s face turned 180, back to the usually cheerful and bubbly girl she always use, her tears flew down again but now they were of happiness, knowing you will not leave her, “for her” you thought to yourself as you were joining Chaehyun in the embrace when suddenly…

*growl*

Both of your faces suddenly gain shades of pink as they turn away since you could hear not only your own but her tummy rumbling as well. “heh…uhh what about some pizza?” she asked, her face a bit red from the awkward situation as you nodded.

Once the pizza arrived, you had one of the deepest conversations you ever had, talking about whatever came to mind. From as basic things such as  “what topping belongs to pizza” which you couldn't agree on if pineapples should be on pizza or not to the point the two of you called your friends for help on deciding who will win this debate, when suddenly one topic began to float in your conversation between the two of you. It was bothering you for a while. Not even your parents stopped, why was she here?

“Chaehyun….why do you care?” your question caught her off guard, making giggle lightly as she looked at you

“What do you mean? im your friend, that is what friends do right?” now the arrow of question is directed toward you.

“Well…i mean like: why do you care about my depression, it's not like you had it yourself or something, so i doubt you understand it” you reply, you didn't mean to sound rude however Chaehyun simply giggled as she pushed away her sleeve, revealing cuts, similar to yours.

“I uhh…got those in middle school, years of being in that state of mind of….not wanting to live  anymore so that is what i did, i had depressive thoughts all day, and i will cut myself from time to time” she said as she scooted closer to you, showing how some cuts are starting to become less visible “but look…it's almost fully healed, it takes time and sometimes i get those thoughts again...but i know i have people that truly care about me and will help me get over it” she said, looking into your eyes, “is she talking about me?” you couldn't help but ask yourself, however there was one question that was still on your mind. waiting to be answered.

“How did i deal with it?” this was the question that left Chaehyun hanging as she focused on the answer seriously. “Well…i think the most important thing i did to start my journey to cure my depression is telling my parents and friends, as much as you think they won't care if you share burden, only the people who truly who care about will stay” she smiled as the answer came to her mind, remembering the path she was in as well,“ the journey regardless of what is it about its always better to do it together, don't you think so?” she said with a cute smile.

“Yeah…i guess you are right” you replied as you look at the clock, seeing it was 12:30 AM, realizing how long the both of you were talking “uhh i think we should go to sleep now right?”

you asked her as she nodded

“Correct, having a good sleeping schedule it also helps in stuff like this” she said as Chaehyun closed out and was on her way to leave the room

“Wait!” you stopped before leaving, causing her to return to the room.

“Yeah? is everything good?” she asked

“Well i was uhh….thinking if you could….i don't know…” you couldn't really find the correct words to say to not make the situation awkward which caused her to laugh, and as if she read your mind like Dr. strange  she hops into the mattress and scoots herself near you, putting her hands around your back, embracing and pulling your face close to her.

“Don't worry, everything will be alright, how about you lose yourself in the dream world, while i will guard your body in this world, deal?” she whispered ever so cutely as you simply smiled at her, you could swear with how she talked it sounded like a sleep comfort sleep, made just for you.

“Goodnight Oppa” she simply said as her eyes closed, starting to slowly fall asleep, you swore she looks like a cute bunny with her sleeping face, all she needed was a bunny headband and a cute tail, and you would never find a difference between Chaehyun and an actual bunny.

30 minutes later your mind still struggled  to enter sleep mode, and you didn't want to stay awake all night, giving you no choice but waking her up, fortunately Chaehyun was a soft sleeper so after one tap on her nose she woke up, looking at you with a soft smile.

“Can't sleep?” she asked as you nodded, causing her to giggle ever so cutely, “want me to hum some songs to sleep?” another question comes as you nodded, another giggle comes as she goes a bit up so she could have her face near your ear as she started humming, some songs you recognize as K-pop and some were not, however it didn't take too long for you to finally fall asleep, you could hear faint sounds of her whispering in your ear something you couldn’t comprehend as you could feel her face nuzzling your chest, making you smile in response as the two of you finally drifted off to sleep. knowing you finally have something to wake up to in the morning: a cute bunny named Chaehyun.

~-~-~

Once upon a time there was a bunny, which was loved by everyone in the forest and had many friends, everywhere she hopped the world seemed to shine just a tad bit brighter, everyday she will roam around the forest and look for berries and bring food to the entire forest population. 

One night the bunny found herself in the dark side of the forest, fully alone as she was trying to find her way home, suddenly her ears could hear a soft sob, as the bunny looked around to see where the origin of the voice came from she found an owl, sitting all by himself on the treetop looking at the forest creatures.

As the bunny climbed up the tree she sat near the crying owl on the tree she asks why is he crying, the owl sighed and explains how he is constant worry of everything, from the tree that is going to rot sooner or later to the fox that constantly wants him for dinner, he also explained how this life full of worrying is making him sad, not wanting to live like this anymore.

However, the bunny simply smiled and talked with the owl in order to relax him and agreed to be his first friend in the forest, not aware how deep this friendship will go. From that day onward the owl and the bunny became friends, in goal for the bunny to help the owl to let go of the worries and finally a happy life.

“WOW, another personal best” Chaehyun said, clapping her hands happy to see you get better with each game, however after playing Mario Kart for over 3 years, you were more than skilled in the game, Chaehyun herself wasn't that good with her best placing in races being 8th place, but her smile still carried on because as long as its time with you, she would don't mind a last place.

It has been a month ever since that night you planned to end your life and you could confidently say: Chaehyun changed your life for the better, all starting with your daily schedule that finally started to look better, with every afternoon being spent with Chaehyun, for people looking from the side, those meetings might as well be called dates, but the both of you knew it was just a hangout, there was nothing more between the two of you.

With the help of Chaehyun you also finally had the courage to tell your friends after finally coming back to school, as just as Chaehyun expected your friend group simply rushed in and hugged you, letting you know you were important to them as you could Chaehyun could simply just look at you with an “i told you” face, you rolled your eyes as she joined the hug as well.

Chaehyun was the bunny, you knew just her being around you made your day shine brighter, she taught you love, and how to look at the simpler things and enjoy every moment like it will be your last moment of your life however in return there wasn't much you did, just like the fable of the bunny and the owl. you had to find the perfect way to return the favor, when suddenly…

“Hey oppa…do you remember what day is today” Chaehyun asked as the two of you were walking out of the arcade with a Bunny plushie in her right hand, “was there an important day today? it's her birthday? or is-” many thoughts came at this very moment, trying to remember-

*Flick*

“Oppa you are thinking too much, today is our 1 month friendship anniversary”

Oh right… you forgot about it, maybe celebrating the day you almost planned to die isn't one of the most fun things to do, but it was also the start of a friendship that made you better in every way possible.

“Wait…i needed to buy a gift or something” you asked, because it would be really awkward if you forgot it, in reaction Chaehyun just pouted and looked away angrily

“Oppa really forgot about this special day and didn't even bring a gift? what a shame honestly” her teasing never seem to not make you smile as after a second or two her smile grew back. “I'm joking, i wouldn't really be mad if you didn't got me a present, because i already got one of the most important presents from you” she added with a small giggle

“And let me guess: it's our friendship or something cheesy like that right?” you asked as Chaehyun just laughed from your stupid joke. “I swear to god hyuni: sometimes you are a bit too much” you simply said as suddenly Chaehyun froze, her face looked surprised/

“Shit, did i say something wrong?” you thought to yourself as you could see some tears shedding from her eyes “Uhh i am sorry if i called you that way, if you want i can still call-”

“No…It's ok i uhh i liked that nickname…its cute” she explained simply as she held your hand, thank god she didn't hate this nickname, the two of you were walking slowly down the road, almost getting to your house “Oppa…” she turned at you slowly as a smile grew on her face.

“hmm…yeah? is everything good?” you asked.

“Can...can i call you Owl-ie?” she asked as confusement grew on your face, not knowing how to explain what she just said

“uhh Owl-ie?” you asked her, tilting your head.

“Y-yeah, i mean… you look a bit like an Owl in my eyes, and i think its a cute name no?” she explained as you couldn't help but smile, she was really just a small bunny in your life that made every day a sunshine.

“Uhhh sure, i don't see why not” you reply as the bunny jumped in excitement and hugged you

“Well i need to go, thank you for this awesome day” she said as without any warning, a small peck was touching your cheek, both of your faces were covered in pink shades as Chaehyun didn't say a word and just left, leaving you in front of your house, shocked at the events that just occurred, feeling your right cheek where Chaehyun left her peck.

A small smile just grew on your face as you entered your house.

================================================

So as you seen, there will be a part 2 for this oneshot, but it will take some time before i write it, so i guess see yall next update

Edit: added a Keep reading thingy

[nootsarticles]

My South Park Opinions

SPOILER ALERT!d

Tw: Terminal illness mention,alcholism mention,death mention,

Okay. So if you don't know already, I am obsessed with South Park. And I have thought about this a lot.

1.Chef being the boys' father figure.

Well I mean, Cartman doesn't have a dad, Kenny's dad is an alchoholic,Stan's dad doesn't even care about him, and Kyle's dad is a bit useless. Mr Garrison is not well-liked by the boys. So therefore, Chef is the only father figure that the boys really have. That's why they ask him weird questions like "Is it okay to kill your grandpa if he wants you too" and questions like that. Also, Chef visits Kenny whilst he is dying from a terminal fucking illness. I did not even see Kenny's family ONCE. When Chef returns,the boys are so happy. Arguably happier than when they see their parents. When Chef dies at the Super Adventure Club,the boys are absolutely gutted. With all the evidence I see here,I can see that they see Chef as a father figure.

2. Butters' family

Stephen and Linda Stotch are actually abusive towards Butters, grounding him for most things (there was one episode where they ground him for being ugly). It got so bad to the point where Linda tries to drown Butters in the river. But what made them so bad? Well, Stephen's mother is Grandma Stotch. Yes. The woman who gave Butters a black eye. Maybe, Grandma also did horrible things to Stephen as well which made Stephen thinks that it's an okay thing to do. It doesn't excuse the action, but it could perfectly explain why they abuse Butters. Whereas,for Linda,I could not any peice of information to explain why she tried to drown Butters.

3.What the fuck is wrong with Kyle's mum?

Kyle's mum is borderline controlling towards Kyle and Ike. We can see that because during the film, she attempts to start and successfully starts a whole war against Canada because of the Terrance and Phillip's song "Uncle Fucker". This can't really have any other explanation than she had strict parents that wouldn't let her do anything growing up, so she now pushes her childhood onto her children.

4. Why did the other boys keep their friendship with Cartman?

Cartman is truly a toxic friend towards all of the boys, especially Kyle. He keeps on calling him "Stupid j*w" (I wasn't too sure whether I could say the word or not so I shall block it out) and is overall racist towards him for his religion. Also, he only tried to overturn the ban of stem cells (which would have saved Kenny's life in "Kenny Dies") for the sake of something extremely miniscule. He also tries to give Butters laxatives for his own personal pleasure of going to Casa Bonita. Worst of all, Cartman put his winky into Butters' mouth to prove that Butters is gay. So, this holds the question, why are the other boys still friends with Cartman after all that he has done to them. That's when we need to think about Cartman's personality. He has sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies. This could mean that Cartman could have threaten the boys with their own lives if they ever even tried to separate from his wrath.

5. Why do everyone keep on getting away with committing such horrendous crimes when Terrance and Philip get executed for saying "fuck" a lot?

We can see that crime is a regular occurrence in South Park. The most noticeable criminal is Cartman, who is well known for committing almost every single crime (including genocide, which is one of the worst crimes ever). So, why do they all seemingly get away with it? Terrance and Phillip almost got executed via electric chair for their song in the 1999 Movie (Bigger, Longer and Uncut). This is simple. They see Canadians as this weird sub creature compared to this almighty American group that they are. Also, Matt and Trey probably did it due to the whole stereotype of "Americans hate Canadians" (I have never heard of the stereotype, but it probably is)

6.Would Stan and Wendy have stayed together when they're older?

Stan and Wendy are an on and off relationship, especially in the earlier seasons. But, every time Stan sees Wendy, he throws up. Also, in S1EP11, we can see a very jealous Wendy try to kill Miss Ellen as many of the boys (Stan included) have a huge crush on her. This gets so bad that she attempts to kill her and sends her to the sun. This makes me wonder whether or not they would have been a good couple 10 years down the line. I don't personally think that they would have been a good couple because Stan can be quite rude towards Wendy and Wendy gets way too jealous extremely easily.

So, basically here's some of my views on South Park. If you don't like the long ass essay, I don't care. It's my choice and I want to talk about this. If you like that, cool. I actually do appreciate it.

Also on my main account: @jamesmarriottistrilingual

[jessiquinn]

Justice league x ex(?) villain reader pt2 (batman x reader)

2019-1-13

This was so messy, I’m confused about what the hell happened here.. but I fixed it... I hope.

---

When they defeated you, Batman put you in the justice league, whether you like it or not.

warning:

1-bad writing, 2-bullying.

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

adjusting was hard... and it’s still hard especially when everyone around me is constantly judging me, I guess it’s the price of my actions but still... still it’s better being in The batman castle than being in the watch tower with all those heroes... but it’s strange how he gave me his trust this fast.

Batman gave me a chance to show my potential, for the first time this month he gave me access to the training room.

In the training room

“just in case, wear this watch, it’s just like an electric monitor but much more advanced, so don't even think about doing something” Batman warned, giving Nightwing a look before leaving.

“so how’s living with the heroes been doing with ya?” he said with a smirk

rolling your eyes at him, “not much of a talker I see, how about you show us your moves?” giving you a sign to attack, his smirk is starting to annoy me...

glaring daggers at him, finally launching an attack at him, he dodges it with ease, “wow I didn’t take you for a magician?” he seemed to be impressed about magic but disappointed at that shity hit.

attacking him once again, “woah calm down, I meant because you didn’t use it in the fight” still easily dodging those lousy hits.

finally speaking “fighting with magic in the war is highly forbidden” charging another attack

“you know, you need intense training with this kind of aim” he knows what he’s doing hehe

after a couple of hours of training, “it’s time for you to go to bed princess” putting his equipment back, leading you back to your room, this extra supervision is annoying.

in your bedroom.

of course, you can’t lock the door, villains don’t need privacy duh.

anyway they couldn’t catch this tho, the last piece I have of myself is this.. this book might be my last hope.

if they find it I’m doomed

suddenly the door opened to reveal Nightwing again, “oh hi sorry, I forgot to give you those essentials” he put them on the table “and goodnight” he closed the door. locking it, yes finally!

once I felt safe, I finally opened the book, writing in it “why did he take me?”

The book answered immediately

"isn't obvious they want to use you for their own good," the book said in a spiteful way. writing back “what should I do?”

"do what they tell you to do till they trust you, then we will contact again"

“wait! didn't the plan already fail? that means a new leader will continue the mission”, "we will take this as part 2 of the plan, I will write to you when the mission is ready to play" the book closed.

-sighing deeply- if I have to play this game so be it, for the first time in history they give a leader a second chance... and it’s me, how convenient...-lays on the bed- and I thought I will be finally free, I guess I’m the luckiest person in this world... my type of luck...

Next morning

"Miss... miss please wake up," opening your eyes slowly adjusting to the light, “what do you want” in a grumpy way.

“It’s morning and master... wants you to eat breakfast with us,” Alfred said, you finally get up. sighing...

Alfred casually walks you to a big dining room, you sit in the chair he chose.

they aren't wearing masks anymore, they must be nuts.. that’s the only logical explanation.

shit... it’s... the famous... Bruce Wayne, he’s looking at you too. you finally notice a familiar face sitting with you on the table, your dear sister.

I used to love her but all those years ago she didn’t come searching for me, made me hate her... call it jealousy, but I was wronged.

looking at her for a solid minute with a poker face then looked at Bruce. AKA Batman.

“You already know your sister is here with us...” looking at you and your sister, “will you just cut to the chase” already hating all of this.

I can’t believe it, she lived with Bruce fucking Wayne all her life. of course, she’ll forget about me.

“-sigh- of course, you know you can’t do much at the moment, once we trust you.. we’ll see how it goes -sigh- as you can see we all revealed our identity's to you, as a sign of trust. Trust me when I say this is the first time I’ve ever done something like this. so don’t mess it up. I won’t hastate on putting you down” his calm serious never seemed to relax you.

finally bursting out in denial “how could you do such a dumb thing, I’m a villain you can’t change the facts, how can you be so sure I won’t expose Bruce Wayne as fucking batman” he smirked “it’s easy really when you have this much money and power. I can shut you up easily, plus no one will believe a villain anyway” they all smirk at you.

“Why would I help you anyway?” feeling all of their eyes on me, “it’s either jail or be with us? choose?” he took a sip from his tea.

"Wrong move stick to the plan" a mysterious sound rang in your head, and your head immediately start hurting...

Every time I do something wrong this happens. as a punishment from the ‘gods’ let’s say that.

“Nevermind, what do you want me to do anyway?” finally feeling cooperative, he took a minute to respond, weirded out by your behavior “we will go in an hour to the watch tower so eat and get ready...” he got up and left.

Damian got up to your face “listen bitch be thankful that I didn't beat you to the ground! you were so rude, never heard of manners before?” Damian said furiously about what just happened

“I do what the fuck I want. I only listen to him, not to you”, “stop trying to start a fight y/n” finally your fake-ass sister talked.

in a serious manner quietly turning to her “mind your own business” and giving her a death glare, seems like she got disappointed “how are you even my sister” giving her a serious “sure”, and getting up before she can speak, “I'm going to get ready” Alfred follows you to your room to make sure.

Getting your bag, looking at yourself in the mirror.

I wish I won, “miss are you done?” Alfred said in the hallway, actually respecting your bounders.

The watch tower,

Everyone glaring at you with disgust, those stupid heroes think they are better than everyone. I never imagined heroes to be such divas'

suddenly black canary came and extended her hand... confused for a minute, finally getting it and you shook her hand back. she smirks at your response before throwing you to the other side of the room, earning laughter from everyone.

That actually hurt “wth...” confused and hurt from what she did, “you trust too fast, how naïve of you” smirking at you once again before handing you her hand again.

Getting up without her help, giving her a bitter look, and walking off immediately after that, I would’ve never done that to anyone in my life and I’M THE VILLAIN. anger filling your heart by the second.

stopping in your tracks to see your little sister laughing with shazam and booster gold... and a couple of other heroes, she must be popular or something eh.. she got the life I wanted her to get... everyone to their own in the end

walking again, searching for something interesting to look at, shazam approaching you

“hey you are the new member? the villain one” rolling your eyes “yup that’s me”

a weird hint of red covers his face “nice to meet you, I’m shazam” he extends his hand

“you do know I'm a villain, right?” confused at his kindness and kinda scared to do the same mistake...hehe...

“I know... but I believe everyone can change -smiles- “ he gives you a genuine smile, “don't mind shazam he's young and doesn't really understand life because once a villain always a villain,” your dear sister said.

“and who asked for your opinion, you're really getting on my nerves” trying your best to control yourself “I'm really sorry for Batman for believing in you... who knows what you’re planning now?” worry covers her face but deep inside you can see her smirk.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to listen, “Sweetheart why don't you go play with your hero friends” trying to act sweet but your anger is clearly starting to control you.

“You really didn't change one bit and I bet everything I have that you are planning something bad” she didn’t even bother hiding her smirk this time because she knows everyone on her side already.

what a bitch.

“what? I’ve always been like this? what did you tell them too? that I sold you to the villains? wow, you are worse than me... they should've taken your soul instead” really amused by this, who knew she was that evil? “as much as I like chatting with you dear sister, I have matters to attend to” waving goodbye to her.

silence roamed the room.

walking away searching for batman, that hurt, she wasn’t wrong I am planning something but when she was with me, I treated her with nothing but love and care... all of this was for her...

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

I might write a part 3 someday but now I’m trying to edit all the chapters I already wrote to ‘clean’ my book on Wattpad. once I finish with those I’ll start publishing the new ones.

if you like it please tell me, and reblog 🖤

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

Low Profile Part 7 — Shocked

Got two requests for electricity with Hale from @hurtthemgently and @starlit-hopes-and-dreams so here it is, without further ado!

Low Profile Masterlist

TWs: Creepy comfort, mentions of memory manipulation, and electrocution

~~

Three more chambers. One bullet. 

Hale’s heart fluttered in his chest, threatening to give out from pure terror. “Ah— I— please… I—” He thought back to his dream, the only other thing he knew that might be useful. The only other thing he might remember. 

“I— they— they’d—they’d hold me down in this room with bright lights and stab me with god-knows-what— and— and I wrote something, once, something I knew they couldn’t find, and the watch, gods, something is important about that watch, I don’t know what… it was old fashioned, a pocket watch… belonged to my father.” 

“And why didn’t you tell me before?” Viper said smoothly, glaring at Hale through narrowed eyes. Hale wilted, shrinking back from Viper’s scrutiny. 

“It’s— it’s blurry,” he said softly. “It hurts… to remember…” 

It was a deep ache in his chest, a stinging skittishness that coated his skin and left him flinching at every thought, every touch. 

Viper eyed him suspiciously. “Why does it hurt? What does it feel like? What makes it so bad that you’d risk dying for it?” 

Hale shook his head. “No— no— please— I— it just— the words get stuck— I can barely remember— I don’t even know what I’m saying— and it hurts… I— I can’t—“

Before he could finish his incoherent attempt at an explanation, his sobs overtook him once more and he buried his face in his hands, trembling violently.

Viper watched him, stonefaced, for a moment or two before slipping the gun back into its holster and sighing quietly. “Alright. No more guns. How about this? You just keep trying to remember, I’ll put the gun away, just for a few minutes. I’ll help get you patched up and you’ll cooperate, alright? And then we go back to normal, after that’s all done and you can think straight again.” 

Hale glanced up warily, his face streaked with tears. “Mhm,” he affirmed pathetically. “I just— I can’t—” 

“Hey, hey,” Viper interrupted softly. “Just think for a little bit. Try to remember what you can. Poor thing… I’m not gonna hurt you if you can’t come up with something, not this time. Just get up and follow me.” His tone dipped to condescension, but that was better than anger, if nothing else. 

Hale’s sobs receded as he silently trailed after Viper, each dark passage blurring into the next. They eventually went up a set of stairs and the cement corridors turned into a carpeted hallway with evenly spaced doors and warmer lighting. Viper scanned his fingerprint on a panel next to one of the rooms and a green light flashed before the door swung open. It revealed a small apartment with cream colored walls, and plush armchairs scattered around a couch in a living room that preceded the kitchen. 

“Just try not to get blood on anything,” Viper told him, shrugging off his jacket and lying it over a chair— although his gun stayed at his hip. 

Hale glanced around, his skin prickling with uncertainty. He kept awkwardly still for a moment, watching as Viper headed to the kitchen to rifle through the fridge. 

“We’re taking a break, you don’t have to be on edge,” he added more gently when he saw Hale frozen in the doorway. “Do you want anything? I’m not much of a cook but I probably have, I don’ know, bagels or something. I’m not gonna poison you. We both know you can’t tell me anything ‘til you’ve calmed down a bit.” 

Hale took a few shaky steps and curled up on the corner of the sofa, hugging his legs to his chest. “Yeah, uh… sounds good,” he said quietly. If given a choice, he’d just want a cup of tea and some time alone, but it wasn’t as if he really had agency here. He was just being given enough time to produce something useful for his kidnapper, and then his world would dissolve back into pain. 

The silence in the apartment was tense, eerie, but— if nothing else— meant Hale could hear himself think. He just needed to remember enough to make himself more useful than when he was being hurt. 

What had he discovered that was worth brainwashing him into forgetting? Someone had died, he knew that much. He’d remembered his father’s hands, covered in blood. Covering his ears to block out a gunshot and a scream. It had been a sign, a warning. An example. 

“He killed someone,” he said quietly, shaking his head as if to dislodge the memory from where it was buried. 

“I’m guessing my— the family has hitmen or some shit, so it was an example— or something like that. I wasn’t supposed to see it. I think that’s why they— why they started to…” he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. He felt a hand at his shoulder and flinched at Viper’s touch, his eyes fluttering back open. 

“Shh,” Viper murmured. “Thank you for telling me, that helps. But we can get back to questions in a bit, okay? Just take it easy.” 

Hale shrank away from Viper’s grip on his shoulder, but gave a timid nod. “I just— I had to say something before— before I forgot—” he stammered. He was cut off by Viper’s hand over his lips, wrapping around his face and turning his words into an incoherent mess of sounds. 

“No more of that,” Viper said. “Not right now. Do you want this truce or not, love? I’m beginning to think you wanna go right back to how it was.” He eased his hand away from Hale’s mouth, but stayed close behind him. A warning. 

“No— I— no. I want it… please… I was just…” he shook his head. Why explain himself when it might just get him sent right back to his doom? “Thank you,” he forced out instead. “I know you didn’t have to choose to give me a break.” He’d die before he would ever mean a word of the gratitude he faked, he swore it. 

A ding rang out through the room and Viper swiftly turned back to the kitchen. “Of course,” he said, his words tainted with mocking sweetness. “Bagel’s a bit burnt, do you still want it?”

Fresh pangs of hunger stabbed in Hale’s stomach just at the thought, and he nodded. It’d been— what? Two days? Three? And he’d eaten nothing. “I’ll take it.” A blanket was draped over the back of the sofa, and he tugged it down to wrap himself in it. 

Viper set a mug on the coffee table, handed Hale a plate with a slightly burnt bagel on it, then settled next to Hale on the couch, slinging an arm around Hale’s shoulders and taking a sip from his mug. “Chai and Bailey’s. I can make you one, if you want.”

Hale glanced at the bagel suspiciously. It looked like a perfectly normal bagel with cream cheese, albeit with charred edges. Yet accepting anything from Viper also felt like accepting defeat. Who am I kidding? I literally just snuggled up in his blanket on his fucking couch. He took a bite of the bagel and sure enough, it tasted normal. Burnt, but normal. Get a grip, he chided himself. 

“Yeah, uh, I could use a drink, honestly,” he conceded, still eating as if the bagel would disappear at any moment. He wouldn’t let Viper get him drunk, he told himself. He just needed something to ease the knot of terror in his heart. 

“We can share mine, for now,” Viper said, passing the mug to Hale. 

He accepted it hesitantly— although Viper had made it for himself, there was no reason for it to be drugged. But when he took a sip, he sighed in utter delight. The Bailey’s made the tea creamy and sweet, and the warmth of the drink was cozy and soothing. “Shit,” he grinned. “That’s good…” 

Viper chuckled. “One of our laundering fronts is a 24/7 bar and whenever some poor soul stumbles in at 5 am, one of these is usually enough for them to think we’re legit.” 

“Or some poor kidnapped soul, I guess,” Hale mused nervously. It felt so wrong, so foreign, to be joking around with the same guy who’d strangled him into compliance not even a day ago. But it was easier than crying. Easier than wasting his one moment of peace by completely losing his shit. 

“You say that like there’s fucking pixie dust in there,” Viper snorted. “God, just take it.” He dug in his pockets and produced the same knife he’d used to carve the fang marks, but instead just spun it fluidly between his fingers in a flash of silver. The room was silent for a moment, but for the sound of clinking metal. 

“Ever learned how to do this?”

Hale shook his head, shrinking back away from the blade. 

“I should teach you,” Viper mused. “Maybe not with something this sharp… I’ll go grab you a training blade.” 

As he got up, he set the knife on the coffee table without a second thought, and Hale’s heart skipped a beat. He snatched up the knife with trembling fingers, his grip white-knuckled around the handle. He stood up slowly, his heart pounding at the sound of Viper’s approaching footsteps. 

Viper turned around, a blunted butterfly knife in hand, and Hale lunged out, slashing wildly at his throat. His captor’s eyes narrowed, and Hale didn’t even have time to try and run while Viper was distracted. A furious, twisting pain erupted through his wrist and the knife slipped from his fingers as he cried out. 

“I will break your fucking arm if you don’t cooperate now and get on your knees,” he ordered furiously. “Don’t fucking test me.”

Hale froze at the threat, instinct kicking in as he dropped to the floor. Viper twisted his arms behind his back with one hand and tangled the other through his hair, forcing Hale to look up at him.

“I try to do something nice for you and this is how you repay me?” he fumed. “This is your gratitude? I have half a mind to smash those pretty little hands with a fucking hammer. Shoot your knees out. Something to keep you helpless enough that you can’t even try to escape.” 

He whipped his revolver out from his belt, pointing it at Hale’s head. “Boss wants you alive and unmaimed, or else I’d have already done it,” he growled, aiming a kick at Hale’s stomach. 

The force of the blow knocked the wind out of him, and he curled up reflexively, a pathetic whine escaping his lips. 

Viper showed no mercy, simply hoisting him up by an arm and dragging Hale alongside him as he stormed out of his apartment, back down the stairs, and to the cement chamber he’d first woken up in. Hale’s ankles banged harshly against the stairs, but if anything, his soft cries only made Viper more harsh in his movements. 

He flung his captive to the floor, stepping a foot onto Hale’s chest and leaning his weight over him until he gasped for breath. Hale spluttered, twitching in a pathetic attempt to escape the force crushing his lungs. “I— please—” he choked out, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. 

Viper snorted. “It’s too late to beg, Ellison. I gave you a chance to rest— and now you’ve made sure that I won’t want to help you out again. You dig your grave, you’re gonna have to die in it.” A grin twisted at his lips at Hale’s frightened countenance, and he aimed another kick at his ribs.

 Hale knew Viper wasn’t allowed to kill him, but just for a moment, he wondered if he was too angry to care. Hale winced, his eyes once more filling with tears. It hurt enough to breathe without the sudden, blunt pain in his side.

“Ever heard of an expression?” Viper laughed. “God. Stay here, now. Try to get up and I’ll make good on that threat to break your legs.” With that, he left Hale wheezing on the floor, rummaging through one of the room’s many shelves of weapons. 

“Found something perfect for a stubborn little brat like you,” he murmured, his body angled so Hale couldn’t see what he’d picked up. “Don’t you fucking dare try to walk.” He grabbed one of Hale’s wrists and dragged him across the cold floor, manhandling him onto a hard table that stood in the middle of the space. Each time his body hit the ground in a fresh burst of pain, Hale whimpered softly, but he didn’t dare move. With Viper this mad, his only priority could be staying alive. He didn’t have the energy nor the will to struggle. 

Even though Hale stayed deathly still but for the way he shook with terror, Viper tied him down so tightly that the leather of the restraints cut into his skin. Straps went over his ankles, waist, shoulders, and wrists, securing him firmly to the surface with barely enough room for him to twitch. 

He could barely breathe. He was going to die here, on this table, and nothing could stop it. Viper could carve out his heart, and it’d be too late by the time anyone found him. Viper could skin him alive and no one would even flinch at the sound of his screams. His chest tightened at the thought, and he found he could barely breathe, even without Viper stepping on him.

He was startled back to reality by a slap to his face. 

“Hale. Hale. I’m trying to make a point here, where the fuck are you? It’s not worth this,” Viper muttered. He folded a blindfold over a few times before wrapping it around Hale’s face, tying a loose knot at the back. “There ya go, now everything’s gonna be a little surprise,” he scoffed. “Don’t panic, love, you’re making it worse for yourself.”

He felt Viper’s hands under his shirt, tracing over his figure before placing electrodes over his chest and stomach. Another set on both sides of his neck, and one at the hollow of his throat. 

He flinched at each little touch, his breath hitching each time Viper’s hands brushed his skin. 

“Hale, love, calm down. It’s not gonna do any permanent damage. Although I should probably get you something to bite on… be right back.” 

Hale didn’t dare try to shake off the blindfold, as much as he wanted to know what was happening. Besides, it didn’t take a feat of genius to deduce that he would be shocked. “So creative,” he muttered under his breath. Whether Viper didn’t hear him or just didn’t feel like addressing the comment, he wasn’t sure, but he was relieved not to hear a response. 

His footsteps marked his return, and Viper’s breath was hot on his cheek when he told him: “Open your mouth if you don’t want to bite through your tongue, dear. It’s your call.” 

While he could still recall the suffocating feeling of tape over his mouth, he nervously complied. Viper eased a gag between his teeth, fastening it behind his head over the blindfold. “Now all you need are some noise canceling headphones,” he said amusedly. 

Hale gave a resigned shrug— it was all he could do. But at least it’d mean I wouldn’t have to listen to your bullshit.

“Then again, that’d be more annoying for me than for you. Alright, deep breath.” 

He heard the soft click of a remote, and barely had time to tense up before his world shattered into pain. Fire overtook his body and sizzled through his muscles, and for the first time, he screamed. Even when the pain subsided, tears rolled down his face and he clenched his teeth around the gag, shaking uncontrollably. He wished he could run home, crawl into bed, and sleep for hours.

Instead, his world erupted into agony once more. He spasmed against the restraints, his chest heaving with sobs. It was as if his body was filled with boiling lead. He begged and pleaded around the gag as soon as the pain faded, although nothing came out but incoherent noises. 

“Regret it yet, Hale? Wish you’d just let me spoil you for a bit?”

Hale let out a tortured groan. 

“Yeah?” Viper teased. “Me too.” 

And without a second of hesitation, he pressed the button again.

Taglist: @morning-star-whump @whumpkitty @shameless-dumbass @hurtthemgently @gala1981 @avvail

[quintchess]

Original by @random-writing-thoughts

Previous part

Villain reached out to Hero, touching their shoulder with the tips of their fingers, immediately sending an electric discharge through the hero’s body. Hero reflexively twitched their shoulder which made Villain smile triumphantly. “Now I’m happy.”

”I can't believe you used my kid against me.” Hero rubbed the spot on their shoulder that Villain had touched.

“And I can't believe what you did last night.” Villain's voice was absolutely calm, they spoke as if they were telling a story they once heard, and not figuring things out. “You do understand that I offered you to move here not only because of Kid?”

Hero unconsciously looked at their kid, as if this could lead them to any hints. Then they turned their gaze back to Villain, shrugging their shoulders and waiting for an explanation.

“You're unbearable.” Villain smirked, shaking their head wearily. “I like you, you know? That's why I asked you to spend the night in my room. I thought that maybe you liked me too.”

“Oh.” That was all Hero managed to say. They didn’t expect such a confession, while Villain spoke about it way too calmly. Now more than ever Hero wanted to put their mask on to hide the heat coming to their face. In order to somehow get out of the conversation and hide their embarrassment, they turned away too abruptly, pretending to look after Kid.

Beaming with pleasure at watching the fearless hero turn into a mess, Villain smiled way too wide. But as much as they liked seeing the emotions on Hero's face, they decided to return to this conversation later. “Does Kid have a superpower?”

“What?” Hero asked sharply, raising their head. They could hardly believe that Villain had so easily stopped torturing them. “No. They don’t. And I hope they won’t.”

Hero's voice was trembling slightly from the emotions they had recently experienced, and Villain was openly enjoying it. “Why? Don't you want them to become a hero like their parent?” Villain tried to sound friendly when asking that, but Hero looked too serious.

“Exactly.” Hero exhaled heavily, looking at their kid with a slight sadness. “I don't want them to ever experience what I went through.”

Villain felt awkward. They hoped to distract Hero with a question about Kid, but they didn't think it would come down to this. They saw it wasn't easy for Hero to talk about it. And Villain could understand them too well. They maimed too many heroes during their life and wouldn’t want another villain like them to harm Kid one day.

“If you and Kid are going to live here, then we should equip a room for them.” Villain said that as soon as they saw Kid dragged a bag chair, climbing on it and then jumping into the pool with pillows.

“What made you think we’re going to stay here?” Hero asked, still unsure of their decision.

“Come on. It's obvious. I understand that you couldn’t accept my offer right away out of politeness. I appreciate it. Now just tell me you're staying here and you're never going back to your old house again.” Villain looked as if they could influence Hero with just confidence in their words.

“I need to go back there, actually.” Hero chuckled lightly, feeling defeated.

“What? Why?” Villain sat closer in disbelief, trying to read in Hero's face whether they were joking.

“I want to check that we took all of our things from there. And I also need to tell my landlord that I won’t be living there anymore. I want to visit them today.”

Villain breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Fine.” They ran their fingers along their face, calming the storm that hadn’t started inside them. “You can leave Kid with me. I'll look after them.”

“No way.” Hero laughed nervously, getting on their feet and stretching. “I don't trust you enough to leave my kid with you, even though I like you.”

“You finally admitted it.” Villain smiled stupidly at Hero, who lightly slapped them on the shoulder in embarrassment.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask my friend to look after Kid.” Hero confessed, checking their pants pockets and realizing that they had left their phone inside the house.

“But you can't do this to me!” Villain immediately jumped to their feet, taking Hero by their shoulders. “Who are even your friend?! Do you want to leave Kid with some random dude?”

“They aren’t a random dude.” Hero smiled slightly and slowly removed Villain's hands from themselves, patting them encouragingly on the shoulder. “And between a friend and a villain, I will choose a friend.”

“Hero!”

***

“Look, Hero clearly told me to keep an eye on Kid. And if Hero wanted someone else to pick them up, they would’ve told me about it.” Friend kept the front door half open, preparing to close it right in front of Villain's face.

“Maybe I should repeat myself.” Villain said tiredly, taking a gun out of their pants pocket and pointing it at Friend's chest. “Hero was busy and asked me to take Kid home. Are we clear now?“

"We are.” Friend swallowed a lump in their throat and opened the door wider, letting Kid out of the apartment.

Villain put the gun in their pocket before Kid could notice it. They lowered themselves to meet Kid’s eyes level and smiled, lightly ruffling Kid's hair.

Kid smiled and hugged them, after which Villain got up on their feet and took kid’s hand, addressing Friend. “It's a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Bye, Friend!” Kid waved happily at them, and Friend waved back uncertainly and closed the door. Kid looked up at Villain and took their hand with both of theirs, shaking it in different directions. “Are we going home?”

“Almost.” Villain raised their hand, at the same time slightly lifting Kid off the ground. “We're going to buy something for your room.”

Next

[solalunar-eclipse]

Strings Neither Green Nor Red

Chapter title: Blue Mending (Magson I. Addison)

AO3 Link

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Spamton belongs to Toby Fox, all other characters belong to @brightgoat on Tumblr and Twitter.

“Thank you all for meeting here on such short notice.” Mags said tersely, surveying the other three members of his department from his seat. Pay was sitting in the chair next to him, his back ramrod straight and his hands folded tightly in his lap. Click was lounging in a chair across the table, inspecting the tips of his fingers in a clear show of boredom, while Video was leaning back precariously in his own seat next to Click, keeping himself balanced with only one hand.

“Now then, I would like to ask you two specifically, Video and Click, about your…strange behavior lately.”

Vid rocked his chair back into all four legs with a loud slam, making Pay jump. The yellow Addison rested his elbows on the table casually, seemingly unperturbed.

“What’re you talking about? I’d say we’ve been more normal than ever!” Video said lightly.

“Yes,” Mags replied through gritted teeth, “but there is absolutely no reason for this to have happened. It doesn’t make sense, is what I’m getting at.”

“Makes perfect sense to me!” Vid chirped annoyingly. “Didn’t you ever think I just finally got used to things as they are, instead of how I wanted them to be?”

“Well, see, I don’t buy that. But even if you’re telling the truth, this sudden of a change—that has zero explanation—would really only happen if you know something I don’t, right?” Mags said, refusing to dance around the topic for even one second. 

At that, Click stepped in, putting a hand on Video’s arm carefully. “But you’re the one who takes care of all the things like files and information these days, correct?” he asked, his voice saccharinely sweet. “If that’s the case, and you’re in control of everything, how could we know something you don’t?”

The blue Addison’s hands curled into fists on the table, trembling. “Information doesn’t just come in files, you know. It can come through words, actions…or people…”

Mags could see that they both knew that he might know. It showed in Vid’s expression of poorly-masked fear and Click’s determination. “Well then, if you’re so interested in our supposed sources, why don’t you just say what you’re getting at?” the latter said, his voice eerily calm. “Be honest here, don’t hide behind little wordplay games.”

“Have you been talking to Spamton?” Mags snapped.

Video’s grip tightened on the table to the point where its surface began to splinter. “You don’t get to say that name anymore.” he snarled, his eyes flaring with yellow electricity.

Mags felt a shock run through him as his suspicions were confirmed.

“Vid, please, wait just a moment—!” Pay cried, but it was Click who stopped him before he could charge at the blue Addi. 

“Don’t.” he said quietly. “This isn’t how you gain the upper hand.”

“Since when do liars have the upper hand at all?” Mags cried, his expression furious. “How long have you been hiding this from me?!”

Click looked over at him. “I don’t think that’s the question you should be asking. The real question is, why didn’t we tell you about this?”

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll play along. Why didn’t you tell me about this?” the blue Addison asked, rolling his eyes.

“Vid?” Click said, turning the answer over to him.

Video looked Mags in the eye, but aside from that, he was completely, uncharacteristically still. “Because I don’t trust you to watch out for us anymore.” he said, his voice broken and tired.

Mags reeled backwards, stunned. “What? But all I’ve ever been doing is—”

“Watching out for yourself.” Video said firmly, his fury returning in full force. “You told me you didn’t care if I left, you threw away Spamton like he was nothing, all because you were so scared of someone on the other end of a phone! Aren’t blue Addis supposed to help the people in their departments? Is that really what you’ve been doing all this time, Mags?”

The blue Addison found himself unable to speak, shaken by Vid’s words. That…wasn’t what he’d expected to hear.

“All I’ve ever been trying to do was keep everyone safe! I was fighting for our jobs—for our lives—and that meant I needed to do what had to be done!” he shot back, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

“What had to be done?” Vid exploded, pained tears welling up in his eyes. “Are we all really that expendable to you?! That…that unimportant??”

…what?

Up until this very moment, Mags had thought he knew what his role was in life. Blue Addisons were always supposed to help ease any interpersonal difficulties in their personal workplace. Whether it was an overly uptight Orange, a hyperactive Yellow, or a truly messed-up Pink, Blues were there to smooth out the rough patches and get everyone working together. It was their purpose (aside from sales), their reason for being.

They weren’t supposed to be the catalyst for fights. The fact that Click and Vid had formed an alliance opposed to him and Pay with the sole purpose of doing what they probably thought was defending Spamton from him rocked him to his very core. 

Whether or not he had actually been in the wrong, his attempts to salvage this department seemed to have—driven them apart further, but—

He was a blue Addison! He couldn’t be a danger to his own department!

…except…Vid and Click thought he already was……

Mags had never felt so alone in his life.

“Oh, God.” he breathed, pressing a hand to his mouth. “Oh my god, you—you really feel that way? But I…all I ever wanted was…”

“Whoa, hey, easy there!” Vid cried, his rage melting away at the sight of the blue Addi’s face. He dashed around the table and hovered around Mags nervously. “Geez, man, you look like you’re gonna pass out!”

“I...” he whispered. “I…I don’t…I just…”

“Uh, guys?” Video said nervously, his voice sounding far away and muffled. “I think he’s, like, going into shock or something.”

…

The next thing Mags became aware of was a mug of his favorite tea being pressed into his hands. A blanket was draped around his shoulders, and he was somehow sitting in the living room, even though last he remembered, he’d definitely been at his dinner table.

“What…?” he murmured. “How did I….”

“Hey, hey, can you hear us?” Vid said, leaning into his field of vision. “You back with us now, Mags?”

“What do you mean, ‘back with you’?” he asked, confused.

Pay sat down on his other side, his smile pained. “It’s a phenomenon that isn’t very well-documented, but I’ve heard about it before. Essentially, you tried to process too much at once and then shut down because of it. You were completely unresponsive to anything we said or did for—” he checked the time— “approximately fifteen minutes. However, you were still physically mobile, as evidenced by the fact that we were able to bring you over here without having to forcibly move you.”

“It was really creepy.” Click said, from his position on the other couch. “You were just staring off into space without moving or blinking or anything.”

Mags shuddered. “The last thing I remember is Video talking to me in the dining room…and then nothing.”

Pay frowned. “Well, it might be best if you exercise caution when thinking about…whatever it was you were thinking about before it happened. We don’t want you to experience a second shutdown—that doesn’t seem healthy.”

“What was I…?” Mags tried to recall what had caused it—and then paled. 

“What did I just say?!” Pay cried. “Don’t think too hard about it!”

“But I—I—” he stammered, his hands shaking enough that some tea spilled over the brim of his mug.

“Hey, look at me, okay, Mags?” Video said gently. “Just look at me.”

The blue Addison could barely bring himself to do it, fear of what he might see weighing him down. But when he looked up, all he saw was concern and kindness in Vid’s eyes.

“How did you do it?” Mags said weakly. “How did you keep caring about him and keep going, even after losing him?”

Video blinked, surprised. “It hurt. A lot. Especially since it felt like I was the only one for so long. And I’m not gonna say I did it well—you saw my sales drop! But not caring would’ve felt worse, because for me it would’ve meant abandoning someone who meant the world to me.”

Mags sighed. “I felt like…I either could keep caring or make sure everybody was safe. So I tried to do both, kind of—care about the people I could protect and not worry about those I couldn’t. But…I think I hurt you all because I was so scared of being hurt again. He was…someone I cared about. So much. And when he was gone, I knew I had to make sure it’d never happen again, no matter what it took. That way we and our livelihoods would be safe.

“I didn’t know I was doing it wrong. I didn’t know…I was making the problem worse. Because if you’d been Called, either of you…” He looked up at Video and Click. “You wouldn’t have told me, would you? You’d have listened to the person on the other end.”

Neither of them could meet his eyes.

Mags shuddered, cold terror creeping through his whole body. “I thought I was saving us…doing what was right despite everyone fighting me…but we were so close to ruin, weren’t we? We were so close to losing it all.” 

“But we haven’t lost it yet.” Vid said, putting an arm around Mags’s shoulders. “It’d be pretty tough and really awkward, but I think we can fix this.”

“How?” the blue Addison asked weakly.

“Look at us now!” Video gestured around the room. “We all put everything aside and helped you when you needed it, right?”

“You…you did.” Mags said, sitting up a little straighter. “Thank you.”

“But right now, I think there’s someone out there who needs all four of us to help him.” Video continued, their eyes flashing with determination.

“He needs us?” Pay said, his voice quiet and small.

“Pay, I don’t know exactly what he’s been through, but I know it’s been rough.” Video said emphatically. “And he spent all that time thinking every last one of us never wanted to see his face again.”

Mags jolted in his seat. “I want to see him again.” he said, the words flying out of his mouth before he had time to register them.

“You really were missing him all this time too, huh?” Click said, sounding surprised.

“It’s more complicated…” Mags confessed. “I couldn’t let myself miss him, or else I would’ve been as distressed as Vid. And I felt like I needed to take charge…but apparently it’s not all that good for me to be in a leadership position.” He laughed humorlessly.

“Hey. Remember, we’re gonna fix this. All of it.” Video repeated insistently.

“Does that start with talking to Spam?” Mags asked shakily.

Vid started in surprise at that, recognizing what Mags was doing—surrendering control.

“Yeah.” they said, smiling reassuringly. “Yeah, it does.”

…

After that, Video had stepped outside to make a brief call to Spamton, leaving the other three alone in the room.

Pay looked very nervous at being left with Click and Mags, especially when the former spoke up after a moment of silence.

“So what are you gonna do when you see him?” Click said, looking intently over at the blue Addison.

Mags tightened his grip on his mug slightly. “Does he know…about us? What happened after he disappeared?”

“Yeah.” Click replied simply, but that single word held a lot of weight.

“But,” he added, “I don’t know how it happened, but he seems like he’s in a pretty forgiving mood these days. I mean, he accepted my apology really fast, and we were never as close as you and he were…so you’ll probably be fine.”

“I wonder why he’s so prepared to take us all back?” Pay said quietly. “None of us treated him very well—except for Video and maybe Mags, of course.”

“Perhaps it had something to do with those Lightners that came through recently.” the blue Addison said. “They helped unite everyone else throughout the city very easily, and they all got along quite well. Maybe they had an effect on him, too?”

Click blinked. “Yeah, now that you mention it—he seemed to know who all of them were whenever Vid or I mentioned them. But he’s never said anything about them on his own…actually, I think he’s been keeping a lot from us.”

Just then, Video came back into the room. “Oof, that was…intense.”

Mags winced. “Is he mad?”

“Not mad, just more…stunned? That we failed to keep his secret this badly. I think he’s actually kind of relieved that he’ll be able to stop hiding and just get this over with, so he finally knows how you two feel.”

“So, what did he say?” Click asked.

Video gave them a half-smile. “He says he’ll meet with all of us tomorrow, but only in the alley by my store.”

“Why in an alleyway?” Pay wondered, bewildered.

Vid shrugged. “I dunno. My guess is, as much as Click and I have been hanging out with him, it’s still four of us going to meet with only one of him, so he wants to be on his own ground when it happens.”

Mags’s face fell. “You mean he’s scared of us.”

“Wouldn’t you be scared too?” Click asked, looking a little pained. “After everything we said to him, and everything that’s happened?”

Video sighed. “Yeah, I know. Hopefully that’ll start changing tomorrow!” he added, pushing himself to perk up a little.

Mags gave him a smile in return, but secretly, he felt a sense of dread beginning to build inside him.

…

The next day, exactly at noon, the four Addisons gathered together at the entrance to the alleyway. Vid and Click walked in with confidence, while Pay and Mags trailed after, one more visibly nervous than the other.

Despite his expertise at externally tamping down his feelings, however, the blue Addison was just as nervous as Pay, if not more so. Pay had simply been a willing participant in the plans he’d laid out. He feared that if there was anyone Spamton might reject now, it would be him.

Once the group had gone about two-thirds of the way in, they heard footsteps behind them, making Mags’s spine stiffen and Pay let out a small scream.

“Hey!!” Video cried, looking back the way he’d come. He dashed past the other three, sliding to his knees and hugging the person who had appeared suddenly in the entrance to the alley.

When he stepped back, the person was revealed to be none other (as Mags had suspected) than Spamton himself.

“HEYA, VID!” he said, seeming genuinely pleased to see the yellow Addison. That joy faded considerably, however, when he faced the other three. He still managed to greet Click with a modicum of friendliness, but was notably wary when it came to the other two.

“SO, UH, ARE WE JUST GONNA [Stay Right Here!] IN [[Awkward Silence]], OR…?” he prompted, when neither Mags nor Pay moved.

Slowly, carefully, the blue Addi walked forward and knelt down in front of Spam. “I’m so glad to know that you’re alive.” he said softly. “And I’m sorry for everything I did that made you think I wouldn’t be. But I am, truly.”

Pay smiled nervously. “Seconded from here.” he added, a bit awkwardly. “Things haven’t been the same without you—specifically, they’ve been a lot worse. And I’m also sorry for the part I played in driving you away from us.”

Click dragged a hand down his face furiously. “Why couldn’t my apology have been like that?!?” he cried.

Spamton snickered. “YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN A [[Man of the theater]], CLICK.”

“It’s true, you really have.” Video said, smirking. 

“Shut up. Shut up right now, Vid, or else I will skewer you. I mean it.” Click grumbled.

“OH YEAH! THAT REMINDS ME, [[Clickbait]], I BROUGHT YOU A [Free Gifts]!”

The pink Addison hesitated. “….what’s that supposed to mean?”

Spam tossed something at Click, who caught it—and then jolted slightly once he realized it was a pipis. He managed to grit his teeth and hold onto it, luckily enough. Spamton snickered at the sight of his face, twisted with something like determination and disgust blended together into one strange mix.

Its shell began to crack slowly, bit by bit…and then a little angel-Spam leapt out, patting him on the head before disappearing.

The pink Addi smiled wryly. “Better than a bunch of goddamn heads biting me, that’s for sure.” he muttered.

“Spamton, I should explain—” Mags began, his hands shaking. But the former Addison cut him off quickly.

“[Video player] ALREADY TOLD ME [[The Whole Story]] OVER THE [Touch-Tone Telephone]. THEY SAID YOU WERE [just trying to protect the rest of us, really] AND [he was scared of telephones for ages afterwards, you know] AND [he still misses you a lot, he just didn’t know how to handle it, none of us did, honestly].”

Vid’s eyes widened at hearing their own voice spill out of Spamton’s mouth. “Geez, that’s wild!” they exclaimed, a little shocked.

“…do you believe him?” Mags asked nervously.

“YEAH, I THINK SO. YOU WERE [[Always And Forever]] [The Mom Friend], YOU KNOW.” Spamton said, but he still didn’t look fully pleased with everything.

“I came to your room.” Mags said abruptly, unable to stop himself from speaking. “The day you were…evicted. I wanted to check on you, invite you back. But…you were gone, and I heard the strange noises on the other end of the phone…I feared the worst.

“So that’s why I did what I did. I didn’t want anyone else to vanish, or for us to be deemed unfit to continue on because we had lost you. I don’t know if that makes any of it justifiable now that I know you didn’t…you weren’t gone forever…but that’s what I did.”

After a minute of thinking, Spam beckoned Mags closer. He obliged, kneeling down right in front of his old friend, bracing himself for some kind of yelling—maybe even a physical attack.

Instead, small arms wrapped around his shoulders as Spamton pulled him into the most awkward yet welcome hug he’d ever had.

Silently, Mags began to weep into his shoulder, his whole body shaking. “I never thought I’d see you again…” he breathed.

“Me either.” Spam said quietly, his own voice a little choked up as well.

Once he withdrew and they’d both made themselves presentable once again, Mags clasped his hands together, going over something in his head. Cautiously, he looked at Spamton and asked, “Would you like to come home with us tonight?”

“HUH? I MEAN…ARE YOU [[100% Guaranteed]] SURE?”

The blue Addison gave him a reassuring smile. “Absolutely. If it makes it easier, you can consider it like a…seven-day free trial?” he offered.

Spamton looked up at him, clearly back on steadier ground with that kind of terminology. “IS THERE AN [Auto-renewal] FOR MY [[Subscription]]?”

“If you decide you like it? Of course.” Mags said.

“Wait, really?! You’re gonna come back?!?” Vid exclaimed, nearly vibrating in place with excitement.

“I CAN TRY.” Spam said, still seeming a little wary, yet also willing.

Even Click was smiling at that, clearly relieved and maybe even happy at that prospect

Suddenly, Video dragged everyone into a group hug. “Agh—Vid, what are you doing?” Pay cried.

“Affection! None of you can escape it!” the yellow Addi cried, pulling them all even closer.

Mags accepted it wholeheartedly, as did Spam. Pay resigned himself to the hug with a weary smile, while Click refused to play nice and squirmed in embarrassment until it was over.

“Spoilsport.” Video huffed.

“Sugar addict.” Click shot back.

“TALK ABOUT [[The pot and the kettle]], CLICK!” Spam said, his voice light yet accusatory.

“Alright, that’s it. I’m going back to work now.” he scoffed, stalking out of the alleyway. “See you later, I guess.” He shot a semi-genuine smile at Spamton, though, to which the latter grinned right back.

Pay checked the time, his eyes widening. “Oh, it’s late! I’ll have to hurry and get lunch now before my next shift starts.”

Spam looked over at Mags. “I’VE MADE A [[Daily Workout Routine]] OF CRASHING AT LEAST ONE SHIFT A [Workday]. MIND IF I COME WITH YOU TODAY?”

The blue Addison smiled warmly. “I’d love that, actually.”

Video squeezed Spamton’s shoulder affectionately as they walked by. “Guess I’ll see you tonight, then!” they said, clearly still excited.

“I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO IT.” Spam replied, and for the first time, it seemed like he might mean it.

And with that, the three of them left the alleyway, heading out to face the rest of the day together.

[jamesmarriottistrilingual]

My opinions on certain topics in South Park.

SPOILER ALERT!d

Tw: Terminal illness mention,alcholism mention,death mention,

Okay. So if you don't know already, I am obsessed with South Park. And I have thought about this a lot.

1.Chef being the boys' father figure.

Well I mean, Cartman doesn't have a dad, Kenny's dad is an alchoholic,Stan's dad doesn't even care about him, and Kyle's dad is a bit useless. Mr Garrison is not well-liked by the boys. So therefore, Chef is the only father figure that the boys really have. That's why they ask him weird questions like "Is it okay to kill your grandpa if he wants you too" and questions like that. Also, Chef visits Kenny whilst he is dying from a terminal fucking illness. I did not even see Kenny's family ONCE. When Chef returns,the boys are so happy. Arguably happier than when they see their parents. When Chef dies at the Super Adventure Club,the boys are absolutely gutted. With all the evidence I see here,I can see that they see Chef as a father figure.

2. Butters' family

Stephen and Linda Stotch are actually abusive towards Butters, grounding him for most things (there was one episode where they ground him for being ugly). It got so bad to the point where Linda tries to drown Butters in the river. But what made them so bad? Well, Stephen's mother is Grandma Stotch. Yes. The woman who gave Butters a black eye. Maybe, Grandma also did horrible things to Stephen as well which made Stephen thinks that it's an okay thing to do. It doesn't excuse the action, but it could perfectly explain why they abuse Butters. Whereas,for Linda,I could not any peice of information to explain why she tried to drown Butters.

3.What the fuck is wrong with Kyle's mum?

Kyle's mum is borderline controlling towards Kyle and Ike. We can see that because during the film, she attempts to start and successfully starts a whole war against Canada because of the Terrance and Phillip's song "Uncle Fucker". This can't really have any other explanation than she had strict parents that wouldn't let her do anything growing up, so she now pushes her childhood onto her children.

4. Why did the other boys keep their friendship with Cartman?

Cartman is truly a toxic friend towards all of the boys, especially Kyle. He keeps on calling him "Stupid j*w" (I wasn't too sure whether I could say the word or not so I shall block it out) and is overall racist towards him for his religion. Also, he only tried to overturn the ban of stem cells (which would have saved Kenny's life in "Kenny Dies") for the sake of something extremely miniscule. He also tries to give Butters laxatives for his own personal pleasure of going to Casa Bonita. Worst of all, Cartman put his winky into Butters' mouth to prove that Butters is gay. So, this holds the question, why are the other boys still friends with Cartman after all that he has done to them. That's when we need to think about Cartman's personality. He has sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies. This could mean that Cartman could have threaten the boys with their own lives if they ever even tried to separate from his wrath.

5. Why do everyone keep on getting away with committing such horrendous crimes when Terrance and Philip get executed for saying "fuck" a lot?

We can see that crime is a regular occurrence in South Park. The most noticeable criminal is Cartman, who is well known for committing almost every single crime (including genocide, which is one of the worst crimes ever). So, why do they all seemingly get away with it? Terrance and Phillip almost got executed via electric chair for their song in the 1999 Movie (Bigger, Longer and Uncut). This is simple. They see Canadians as this weird sub creature compared to this almighty American group that they are. Also, Matt and Trey probably did it due to the whole stereotype of "Americans hate Canadians" (I have never heard of the stereotype, but it probably is)

6.Would Stan and Wendy have stayed together when they're older?

Stan and Wendy are an on and off relationship, especially in the earlier seasons. But, every time Stan sees Wendy, he throws up. Also, in S1EP11, we can see a very jealous Wendy try to kill Miss Ellen as many of the boys (Stan included) have a huge crush on her. This gets so bad that she attempts to kill her and sends her to the sun. This makes me wonder whether or not they would have been a good couple 10 years down the line. I don't personally think that they would have been a good couple because Stan can be quite rude towards Wendy and Wendy gets way too jealous extremely easily.

So, basically here's some of my views on South Park. If you don't like the long ass essay, I don't care. It's my choice and I want to talk about this. If you like that, cool. I actually do appreciate it.

[pluralsword]

The Song of the Universe, and Two Hot Drinks

I towered over the green flyer seated in their chair, just appreciating them for a moment. The flyer, Acid Storm, was inputting and edit numbers in tabs on their computer terminal and drag around the screen with their fingers, peering and grumbling at the molecular reactions that would play out when they hit the ‘run’ button, always exploding. My twofold sparks panged for them, warm in my waist and my chest, like the bronze-beryllium mixed energon drink I held in hand, mighty metals soft and vivacious. They’re stressed out, poor dear. Maybe we can talk it over.

“Darling, do you never cease to work? If you take a break you might figure it out later,” I patted their blocky right wing with my free hand before resting it there.

“I have to figure this out- I’ve got to know what the chemical process was for making the AllSpark! If I don’t pull this together, the council-” they waffled through eight different voice registers high to low and full of timbre and/or melody while still staring at the screen before they stopped to sniff, and then turned to look up at me with their red optics wide on their gray face.

“Aw, Overliege, you knew I was focused huh, making my comfort drink- you even put iron cream on it, and I can smell zinc spice…” they reached out with a four fingered hand towards the tankard. “Thank you dear-”

“Would you join me in the living room? So you actually take a break, and I have some of this with you,” I knelt my head, still meeting their optics with mine, watching their face’s living metal plating waver between length of lines down the cheeks from their optics or no, various chin guard shapes, a hand of theirs holding their stubby black helm in thought before they settled on a robust chin guard, no cheek lines, and smiled at me.

“Okay, you’re right, I should take a break, and spend some time with you, dear,” They stood up, coming up to my waist height, and hugged me tightly, head under my slight chest. “I’m so worried. People think we need a particle accelerator to make an AllSpark, but I’m pretty sure the explanation is just, someone figured out how to tap into spark energy first, whether in this or another time. I think this was still from naturally occurring gears and pulleys, that our proto-ancestors wanted to remember and pass on a different way, it’s not like there isn’t evidence of Cybertron having non-spark life that was sapient, but if I can’t prove this-”

I chuckled, wrapping one arm around them to hold their thrusters and central fuselage compartment on their back. “I know, I know. You’ve told me, Spark Singularity Theory. Just because people don’t believe you and Swoop, Glyph, Percy, and Anode doesn’t mean that you have to solve it by the time the meeting comes around. Gods know Anode’s friends have taken longer to have sufficient arguments for their points, and people eventually listened, no?” I rubbed their back, slowly, and their hug loosened as they looked up at me, and laughed.

“I don’t have the kind of patience it takes to get old and be a mentor by the time people listen to me, but you’re right,” Acid Storm chuckled, and I did too, while they reached up and held my chest before letting go, leaving me wishing we were curled up without worrying about schedules. If I get another call asking me to come in to handle filework on my vacation off- my frame tensed up, threatening to split into two to change modes and scurry away on wings and tank treads, far from societal expectations. If I have to sit down between Octane and Sunstreaker again to hear them exchange retorts over what Cohabitation and Transportation would be doing if their ideas held the support of the people and not good old Sureshock- I could practically smell Sunstreaker’s holier-than-thou glare and Octane’s foul low-grade energon mixes that kept him overclocked all day, in and out of work.

“Dear? You okay? Your optics glazed over,” Acid-Storm waved their hand in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry,” I took in a cycle of electricity across my circuits to anchor myself in the simple, chart and note covered room, and handed them the tankard. “Was thinking about my own attempts to escape my desk job I feel too much duty for.”

“Sweetspark, don’t worry about it, if the Department asks you to show up you’ve got every right to refuse. I know you care about Sureshock’s vision, but,” Acid Storm took a swig of the drink, and sighed. “Mm, this is good,” they plopped a kiss on my central waist, besides my leftwards missile launcher tubes.  “Come! If you made yourself some I don’t want it to get cold.” They dragged an arm across me there and headed for the door.

Still soothed and aglow from my Conjunx’s kiss, I turned and followed, and we made our way to the living room outside of our study, where my own drink waited on the low gray metal table by the azure steel bench. Acid Storm moseyed over and sat down, and I joined them, reached out to my drink, and put an arm around them, and raised my tankard towards theirs.

“To getting a break with love, and to you, starlight,” I grinned, exposing my fangs.

They clinked tankards with me, and winked. “To love and getting a break, and to you, lunabeam!”

We both took a swig. I murmured quietly at the warm, sweet and hot zincy flavor, the rich iron soft in my mouth. Then I lowered the tankard with an ah. “Wow, I really outdid myself.”

“HA! You did, you deserve the self-complement, but I love you anyway,” they snuggled up on me, head on the side of my chest. “I love you…”

“I love you too…” I gave their wing a squeeze, their other wing attempted to flap between the bench and my back, and they warbled softly, a lovely arc of sound that brought starry nights kissing together among the chimes of the Singing Lights of Binary City and the Helix Gardens of Praxus came to mind, back when we first started dating and travelled Cybertron together, all heady with passion.

“You always make such lovely sounds when we’re close…” I felt my sparks warm again. “Always feel like the cosmos is singing to me through you.”

“Aw that’s so sweet, wait… the cosmos singing… that’s it!” Acid Storm exclaimed and gulped down their drink after before smooching my plane bow shoulder. “What if- the missing component isn’t a chemical, but sound? What if the ancients brought forth the AllSpark from spark-space in part with music? That’s why the particles were responding to sonics…” They clambered onto my lap, looking up at my audial-to-audial stretched mouth. “Finish your drink so I can make out with you without interruption, you sappy Conjunx you. I don’t have to worry about what you said now, but I know I’ll have to call up Anode and some historians about archaeology on pre-spark songs… right now, I just want to share our adoration.”

“Mmm,” I let a hand rest on their cheek and swallowed down the rest of my tankard, my mouth and respective fuel intake all warm and abuzz from it, my sensors keen on more touch, and my mind… full of amazement. “You put thoughts together in such a beautiful way- and I love you for you even if not.” I put the tankard down and leaned in cupping the sides of their helm in my hands, slowly closed my lips on theirs.

They did the same, and we found a harmony of kisses, opening and closing, heads turning, hands holding, moving about our upper torsos and out thighs with slow caresses and tight grips. Every time they rubbed, every time they held on, I quivered with joy, and they cooed with their changing voice every once in a while, when I touched them. I tuned out everything else but our sounds and touch, optics shut, hands moving to their back stacks and holding on firmly, keeping their face near, as I kept up my smooching on their delightful mouth.

They shivered, and left their mouth open, tongue poking out, and I met mine with theirs. We danced together a while with them, touching and holding atwirl, before one last long kiss, and then I moved my head back, looking at their beautiful upturned face, optics droopy.

“I think I’d like to find out what the song of the AllSpark is with you… and sing it with you too, as our sparks try to in all our life, nourishing each other,” I nuzzled my head on theirs.

“That would be lovely… a real hot drink, that passion of yours in daily moments and these kisses,” they clasped my chin with a hand, and we both cackled.

“Really? I’m a hot drink to you? A fluid, shall we say?” I poked their nose while my frame felt flush in the circuits, fitting well together. “Like you.”

“Oh gods, I really walked into that trans pun huh?” Acid Storm let go of my chin and light laid lips my chest. “Overliege, you make me feel real…”

“Same to you, darling Acid Storm.”

You can find the Ao3 link here! https://archiveofourown.org/works/42425064 This was for the 2022 TF Rare Pairing Fest!