#talk -> sing -> dance (talk -> yell -> stab) ((talk -> flirt -> You Know))

[taz-writes]

here's a hot take for today

the narrative function of sex is the same as the narrative function of fight scenes is the same as the narrative function of songs in a musical

no i will not explain

[humbughana]

party’s over

Part Two of Second best

warnings: cursing per usual, mentions of sex, hidden feelings, bad writing (the horror), drinking. mean rafe once again.

words: like 2.5k

also this picture what the fuck I’m in love

I'm coming over.

 Rafe had sent the message ten minutes ago when Lola looked at her phone finally and her heart sank. And it only declined from there as both of them jumped slightly when her front door opened and slammed shut; her name bounced through the house. She looked at the boy in her bed with panic, jumping over him to grab a shirt that fell down to her thighs as she opened her bedroom door to see none other than Rafe Cameron stomping up the stairs and when he noticed her, “where the hell have you been?” 

She frowned, crossing her arms in front of her to try and figure out what his problem was, “I was here.” 

“And you couldn't answer your damned phone?”

Lola sighed deeply, rubbing her temples as she cut off his path to her occupied room, “get out.” she pointed back down the stairs and she swore there was a look of hurt on his face but it was replaced too quickly when there was a slight thud in her room. Lola cringed as rafe’s face was one of confusion, “what was that?”

Panic bubbled over in her chest as he pushed past her, “nothing rafe! It was nothing!” She pawed at his shirt to hold him back but when he opened the door, it certainly didn’t look like nothing. The low laugh that left him made her want to crawl up and die, “nothing lo?” the taunting in his voice as he looked from the half naked boy sitting up in her bed to her in only his shirt stung, “I get it now.”

“rafe-”

“this is why you had to leave last night, to fuck some guy you barely know? And you think I'm the problem? You're just a hypocritical whore-”

Someplace inside her stalled at the words while her mind refused to process them for a moment but Jack stood up, “easy,” he put himself between the two of them and Rafe snorted at the action, “calm the fuck down.” She swayed slightly in shock barely noticing Rafe give her one last look before walking away. Lola jumped when the front door slammed, her chest felt heavy as her eyes watered again. 

Jack pulled her into his chest when her palms went to cover her eyes before her first choked sob shook her shoulders.

She hated Rafe Cameron in this moment.

~

“Lola,” 

She looked anywhere but the blonde boy sitting across from her at the brunch restaurant he took her to, it had been a whole two days since her incident with rafe and still nothing had changed. Radio silence on both of their ends. So she looked up from her untouched plate of strawberry pancakes at last, “Topper,” 

“Whats going on?” he asked lightheartedly enough that she smiled a bit, “having breakfast with my favorite friend,” she grinned back and he only shook his head with a small smile. But it didn’t last long when Topper was involved, “I talked to Rafe.”

“Did you?” she mumbled, stabbing a piece of her food mindlessly. 

“He asked about high school.” Topper spoke as if he was also confused why his best friend had brought it up; to be fair Lola was even surprised Rafe did as she proposed.

“what did you tell him?” she asked looking up again. Topper shrugged, “the truth. He did have a tendency to leave us all behind for whatever girl he was seeing. You always got the worst of it, Lo” She swallowed, looking back down at a loss but Topper filled the silence, “he said you got into a fight too.”

A fight, Lola laughed slightly, “you mean, he stomped into my house and yelled at me? Called me whore?” she leaned back and observed Topper's surprised expression; apparently his best friend left out some details.

The sweet boy in front of her frowned as if angry at his friend. “I didn’t know, Lola. He didn’t tell me that.” She only shook her head and told him it was fine before stabbing a piece of her pancake and plopping it into her mouth. When she swallowed Topper was still staring at her and she sighed, “it’s okay, top. Let’s just enjoy our day.”

~

“this is ridiculous. let’s just go inside,” Sadie whined, looking at the crowded house party. Lola just stared at the house from the street, biting her nails anxiously, “who cares if he’s here! Let's just get shitfaced and forget about him.” 

Lola rolled her eyes finally, “a way with words, Sadie, really.” But nodded finally with a determined sigh, “let's do it.” 

The girls stayed true to their words evidently as Sadie and Lola danced on top of each other in the packed living room, laughing and singing at the top of their lungs.

“Look!” Sadie nodded somewhere behind Lola and when she turned around, there was an attractive dark haired boy watching her. He nodded at her slightly with a smirk when Lola met his eyes; she gasped and turned back around with wide eyes, “Sadie!” 

“Lola!” Her friend laughed, “He’s totally into you. Go talk to him.” 

“I can’t,” she shook her head but couldn’t help the feeling of a thrill that someone wanted her. There was no sign of her usual friends here and it was refreshing to not be watched, Sadie’s eyes softened slightly understanding her hesitation. So she let it go with a shrug, “Lets go get another drink?”

Lola nodded, pushing her hair away from her face and making her way to the kitchen, discreetly stealing seltzers from the fridge with a sign that blatantly said ‘do not enter.’ 

“Can I help you ladies with anything?” The same boy was now leaning against the door frame with a knowing smirk on his lips. Lola swallowed, feeling slightly caught but shook her head with a grin as Sadie popped the tab of her drink as the sound filled the room. 

He was roguishly handsome, his almost black hair slightly falling in his face, “Well, considering this is my house,” he trailed off, looking pointedly at Sadie who choked on her drink and the grin fell right off of Lola’s face.

“Fuck- sorry.” Sadie cringed slightly with a grimace and the boy just burst into laughter as the two girls still stood frozen. 

“Forget it, keep the drinks.” he looked Lola over once more before smiling at Sadie. Both of their cheeks slightly flushed, still confused. And Sadie, ever the loud mouth, “I’ve never seen you before. You said this is your house?” She asked maybe a little too aggressively and he raised his eyebrows at her brashness. Lola hissed her name slightly at the girl, embarrassed, “Sorry,” she sighed. 

He only shrugged, “We just moved here from the mainland.” It made sense, he knew a good amount of people but neither of them had met him before. Both of the girls nodded in understanding before Sadie smiled wide, “Welcome to the island then!” grabbing her stolen drink and walking past him, she clinked her can with his on the way out, leaving Lola alone with him. The wink Sadie sent over her shoulder had Lola burning up as the boy chuckled slightly, “I like her.”

“I’m sure she’d love to hear that.” Lola sipped her drink, anything to take the edge off as he watched her. She had flirted with boys before, hooked up with a few over the years but it had been awhile and to be honest; she had grown comfortable with Jack and her ongoing feud with Rafe.

So she would try, “What's your name? She asked sweetly and he cocked his head slightly, playing with her, “You come to my party and don’t even know my name?” 

She playfully rolled her eyes, “I’m Lola,” The corner of his mouth quirked up, “I know.” She frowned, feeling defensive all of the sudden and it must have displayed on her face because he pushed off the wall and walked fully into the kitchen, “Nothing bad,” He shrugged now right in front of her, “It’s hard not to hear about you when you’re with Cameron.” 

Lola nodded to herself, understanding how people knew her but it made her irrationally irritated in this moment, “I’m not with Rafe.” It might have come out too aggressively because he held up his hands in faux defense and an easy going smile, “That’s not what it looks like,” he shrugged and she grit her teeth.

“I’m. not.”

“Fair enough,” He watched her still and Lola shifted uneasily, “Aiden.”

“What?” her eyebrows furrowed.

He grinned, “My name. Aiden Carter.” 

She had heard of his last name here and there but nothing substantial, obviously his family was very well off just by looking at his house that rivaled her own. 

“Well, Aiden, as riveting as this has been, I'd rather get back to the party.” She copied Sadie on her exit and tapped her can on his with a playful eye roll, “See you around.” She added with a little smile over her shoulder. 

Lola sifted through the crowd until a body slammed into hers with a little squeal in her ear, “Lo! He’s so hot!”

“Jesus christ, Sades.” Lola laughed slightly, steadying the two of them. Sadie only giggled manically before pulling her towards the beer pong table that was set up as Lola groaned, they weren't necessarily bad at it but both of them always ended up belligerently fucked up. They took their drinks more seriously than others, sipping their drinks every time their opponent made a cup; as you should, Sadie always said.

So the two girls were thrown into a new game against two boys they went to school with that seemed to take the actual game way too seriously. And like clockwork, Lola and Sadie lost, stumbling away from the table both leaning against one another. 

“I need to pee!” Sadie spoke in her ear and Lola nodded but then groaned at the line to the downstairs bathroom, “Let's go upstairs.” Lola whispered with a sly smile and a finger over her lips, “Secretly!” Sadie giggled at the slurred words as both girls tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. 

“Third door on the right,” Lola gasped dramatically, turning around on the staircase and almost tumbling back down to see Aiden, “The bathroom.” he nodded, looking slightly concerned but was amused nonetheless. Lola saluted him as if they were on a mission as Sadie tugged them upstairs. 

“He’s nice.” Lola leaned against the sink as Sadie pulled down her skirt with a snort, “Yeah he probably wants to fuck you.” 

“Why wouldn’t he want to fuck you?” Lola cocked an eyebrow as Sadie scoffed but left it alone. Lola sighed, the room beginning to spin as she realized she definitely drank one too many and didn't realize it, “Oh god,” Her hand covered her mouth, Sadie now washing her hands looked at her with knowing concern. 

“Lo,” She murmured, “Just relax.” Her heavyweight best friend rested a hand on her back as Lola tried to breath through the feeling of impending doom as her stomach churned. Sadie only took the hair tie off her own hand and pulled Lola’s hair back in a low bun, “Just tell me what you want me to do. I can call Rafe or Topper or Kelce.” Lola’s head immediately shook back and forth but the movement sent her over the edge as Sadie helped her fall in front of the toilet as she threw up all of the alcohol.

“You’re getting better at this.” Sadie laughed as she tried to lighten the mood and Lola only groaned, leaning back on her heels, a sheen of sweat on her skin now. Lola sighed, still feeling sick, “I miss him.” Her lip wobbled slightly and her friend only sighed, pulling her hair back when she threw up again, “I know.”

Unbeknownst to Sadie, Lola had pulled out her phone and sent scrambled messages to Rafe, Topper, Eve, and Jack. She could barely read herself and just slid the phone back in her pocket before Sadie noticed.

A few moments later, Lola was laying on the cool ground, counting her breaths as Sadie continuously filled up the little paper cups that were in the bathroom with water and handed them to her, “I’m too drunk for this,” A knock at the door make Lola’s head pop up and Sadie turned to the door.

“Is everything okay?” Aiden’s voice sounded from the other side and Lola let out a soft groan as Sadie cracked open the door with a grimace, “I’m sorry,” The boy only pushed past her and they both looked down at Lola who laid a hand over her eyes, “Just kill me now. Leave me here to die.”

“Shut up,” Sadie kicked her leg in annoyance but Aiden just looked at both of them in exasperation, “Is someone coming to get you?” He asked, crossing his arms and Lola groaned again, “Don’t you dare call him, Sade. He hates me!” 

“Oh my god,” Sadie mumbled as she spotted a tear on her friend's cheek. Aiden still stood there and Lola looked up at him, “Can’t we stay here? This house is huge, don't be greedy with your rooms,” Aiden coughed out a slight laugh, “Yeah that’s fine.” He nodded, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“C’mon Lo,” Sadie bent down to help the girl sit up to no avail until Aiden bent down and grabbed her around the waist and over his shoulder. Lola let out a giggle as she saw Sadie upside down as they entered a new room with a huge bed. Her head ached when Aiden dumped her on the bed and she bounced, “Thanks,” She deadpanned rubbing her forehead. Sadie turned to the boy as Lola zoned out again, pulling out her phone to faintly see the messages coming through.

Her messages to Topper included,

Lo: Hi top! we can still be friends without rafe right? i love u

Top: of course, lo. where are you? 

Lo: party party

Top: call me

Lo: no xx

And then Eve who only laughed and asked for pictures. Jack had not responded just yet but her messages to Rafe made her sit up slightly, panic in her chest.

Lo: i miss u even tho you were so mean to me

Lo: are we even speaking? 

Rafe: what’s wrong with you

Her eyes welled up as her drunken mind took it the wrong way,

Lo: i miss you, asshole. 

Rafe: where are you?

Lola stalled as she looked at Sadie and Aiden still talking in the doorway but her phone began to ring in her hands. Her eyes widened as she saw Rafe’s contact pop up. Sadie narrowed her eyes but shrugged, “Answer it.” She pulled Aiden out of the room and closed the door behind her with a wink.

Lola hesitated before putting the phone to her ear, “Hello?” she mumbled, feeling shy all of the sudden. Rafe’s harsh voice boomed through the phone compared to her soft voice-

“Have you been drinking?”

Lola rolled her eyes at the only thing he said, “umm, yes, but-

Rafe cut her off, “Where are you?” the rustling around in the background made her uneasy

“Rafe-”

“What the fuck are you doing there?” He must have looked at her location that they shared with one another, Lola frowned, “Stop yelling at me,”

“I’m not yelling at you.” Rafe huffed and she heard the sound of his car starting, “I’m coming to get you,”

x

LOL so part three is the final part and is written as well. So we’ll see again :)

[infinitelytheheartexpands]

Responses from the Opera Screencaps Captioning Quiz

Hello, everyone, and thank you for taking my quiz! I had SO MUCH fun reading your captions-- there were several times I literally started crying from laughing so hard at the amazingness of your work! With that in mind, the captions (which I will continue to add onto as more people take it):

(also, thank you to @dichterfuerstin​ for translating the German captions I got)

originally taken from: the Wiener Staatsoper’s 2020 production of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, featuring Regula Mühlemann (center) as Blonde, Michael Laurenz (right) as Pedrillo, and an unnamed extra (left) as the Grim Reaper

Responses:

(Backstage warm-up) “ok so someone dropped the pulse”

me and my friends watching the fire burn after doing arson

Introducing the polycule to the parents

*boom* ... did...you guys hear that too?

Ma Signor !

Knight in whinging armour gone wrong, look at how he holds the egg. Polyamory with weird knight and death.

the father, son and the holy ghost are very gay

the gays meeting for brunch, 2021, colorized

chicken lady forces death and a very flamboyantly homosexual anthropomorphized pink bird to be parents of her egg (they dont want to be)

That’s just me and my friends on our night out (before covid rip)-- closest

A Good Friday night

good omens (2019)

["the pocket guide to boy/girl/mischief" meme] who's the boy and who's the mischief though????

Papageno and Papagena take their first-born egg trick-or-treating

Angry Birds - The Musical. A pig stole an egg and the bird unites with death to take revenge.

I love my bird wife

Someone got murdered during the funky chicken dance

throuple murders child and steals sibling of said child

When you and your friends have widely different tastes in literature

angel leading twink to his rightful place (hell)

draco malfoy from a very potter musical and a death eater are very much in the wrong show

What have I gotten myself into

Mlm/wlw solidarity but I’m not telling who is who

A woman stands with a pink dipshit with an egg and a reaper.

A bird-couple makes a pact with Death, sacrificing their first-born bird-child in order to bring good luck upon their unborn bird-baby

There are three types of people on Halloween:

Uh oh, I don’t think the mother hen is very happy about this...

oh god, they’ve invented seussical. It’s too early!

gay brunch

Three little maids from school are we

guys maybe if we dress gay enough we can distract everyone from the dead flapper bee in the back

those three killed a duck for her egg and are facing the conswquences.

Duck has egg with human, shocked and upset due to biological impossibility

When you bout to make a banging omelet so you invite your fellow queers

"No mortal man could pass that egg, but heaven shall repair your rectum."

originally taken from: the Salzburg Festival’s 2007 production of Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini, featuring Maija Kovalevska (left) as Teresa Balducci, Laurent Naouri (center, in chimney) as Fieramosca, and Burkhard Fritz (right) as Benvenuto Cellini

Responses:

“In this same interlude it doth befall That I, one Snout by name, present a wall; And such a wall, as I would have you think, That had in it a crannied hole or chink, Through which the lovers, Pyramus and Thisby, Did whisper often very secretly. This loam, this rough-cast and this stone doth show That I am that same wall; the truth is so: And this the cranny is, right and sinister, Through which the fearful lovers are to whisper.” - a midsummer night’s dream, act v scene 1

"ah yes a prime specimen. see here, right in this box is our one of a kind hob goblin that can be all yours for the low low price of your soul"

what, YOU don't have a special eavesdropping chimney window?

Hänsel und Gretel plotting against the witch

man takes a wrong turn and ends up in a chimney, catches his girlfriend cheating-- closest

when you end up third wheeling the straight couple

lady cheats on her leather jacket wearing scummy boyfriend and when he unexpectedly comes home she hides the lover in the chimney

A straight girl and her gay best friend gossip about stuff idk

Idk Shakespeare?

experimental couples therapy feat. the chimney mf from mary poppins

Area Couple Inadvertently Traps Santa-in-Training in Chimney as they Attempt Rooftop Flirting

Landlords laugh over student renter's misfortune

I never asked for this

Ay yo lil mama lemme whisper in your ear

voyeurist listens to sandy and Danny from grease

Psssst! Did you hear about Susan? You won’t believe it!

lady and the tramp meets beauty and the beast?

human trafficking

And for just $30 you too could have your own tiny brick cage!

Psst I’m wearing assless chaps under this dress

A couple tortures a man in a box.

It's all fun and games being stuck in a chimney until your greasy uncle steals your crush from right above you-- okay ngl this could actually be a great Don Pasquale concept

Taking eavesdropping to the next level

Will you two stop being lovey dovey and let me out? SUMMER LOVIN, HAPPENED SO FAST— 

overhearing how people talk about you when they think they're alone puts you in the shithouse 

Does he know we can see him?

dear god, i am so fucking hungry, yall please just do whatever heterosexuals do so i can go eat a popsicle 

the human version of the trash man from sesame street is realizing that those two are going to fuck on his trash can 

Tmw you capture an angry short dude and start trashtalking him where he can hear 

Omg what if we kissed but we actually kissed the lil goblin man under us

"Remember, don't feed him after midnight"

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Leonardo Estevez (right, on fake horse) as Le Comte d’Oberthal

Responses:

“When I said we needed to drain the swamp I didn’t think there were people actually living there”

horse? what horse? no sir i dont know what horse youre referring to.

definitely don't have a napoleon complex going on

King stole La Scala‘s Lohengrin set

king breaks all his horses, has to use statue dragged by servants as transportation because he’s too kingly too walk

Emperor Söder and his subjects on a carnival procession

man on horse makes a big deal out of being on a horse

That’s not Zeffirelli because the horse is not alive

Who the fuck put a horse on the stage

isn't this that picture of napoleon on the horse

Area Count Thinks Citizens will be Intimidated by his Extremely Fake-looking Horse Statue-- closest

Everyone wants their turn on the giant plaster horse. Police are there to make sure everyone waits their turn.

Night out with the lads

Local royalty horrified at the state of his own damn kingdom

gay army fights different gay aesthetics-- hi author how does it feel to be the funniest fucking person on this quiz

Well at least I LOOK badass

ceasar if he hadn't gotten stabbed (colourised)

some soldiers jumped out of my kindergarten fairytale collection book to burn the don carlos flemish deputies at the stake

It’s just a model

Is that how you feel pulling up in your Honda Civic, Madge?

Someone rides a horse statue in public.

Just a normal party with the bros.

what is this, some kind of crossover episode? 

Terribly sorry for all the fuss, it’s just, that is, my horse is afraid of neck ruffles. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s—whoaaa there—he said he was a french courtier in a past life and he’s allergic to English fashion 

Horse seller, listen to me! I am riding into battle. I need your strongest horse. - We have horses at home. - The horses at home: 

All hail Incitatus the king 

we are not ripping off shakespeare’s henry viii. what the fuck. this is about lenny xi you uncultured swine, go drown in a pit of your own farts 

oh god is that hamilton 

Guy Removed From Art Museum For Sitting On Statue, more at eleven 

Gay <3

Officer: This horse... is a virgin! Crowd: *cheers*

originally taken from: the Parma Verdi Festival’s 2017 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Stiffelio, featuring Maria Katzarava (left) as Lina and Luciano Ganci (right) as Stiffelio

Responses:

That One kid in class

its a mEntAL BreAkDowN *final countdown but kazoo*

*record scratch* yeah, that's me. you're probably wondering how I got here-- closest

Dad keeps monologuing, teenager is done

left: all of my concerned friends, right: my emo ass having a very public mental breakdown

the demons in the corner of my room when im just trying to sleep

lady gets mansplained to (do i need to say more, we've all been there)

It’s probably an area baritone telling off an area soprano-- sorry; it’s a tenor. soprano is right though.

That was a fake horse in the last photo right?

child comes out as gay to father at a particularly bad time

dissociation solves everything

I can't believe it's not butter

Honey we talked about this

My sleep paralysis demon is Crowley from supernatural

child has nightmare of boring job

When you start dating a singer but he won’t stop practicing at night

just an average day in a hetero marriage

what do i do my wife's having period cramps again

Stop having an existential crisis. It’s time to sing!

“No son of mine will kin Gomez Addams under MY roof”

Crowley stares into space while a teen has post nut clarity.

When he wont stop reciting jordan peterson monologues!!

Do you realize how effed you are?

Ugh, not this lecture again! Dad’s Practicing For His Experimental Indie Band Again 

asking your parents for help with your own personal situation and them just ranting off about what they went through instead of helping in any way 

Will he shut up already!

no one tell him he’s yelling in the wrong direction, no one tell him plnsbdjddhdj 

this kid is tired of his dad listening to rush limbaugh (a man who claimed to be pro life but died anyway) 

Me internally vs externally 

Daddy issues

originally taken from: the Grand Théâtre de Genève’s 2020 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots, featuring several chorus members

Responses:

It’s the deadly eye Of Poogley-pie. Look away, look away, As you walk by, ‘Cause whoever looks right at it Surely will die. It’s a good thing you didn’t … You did? … Good-bye. - shel Silverstein

why the fuckith? my good sir, i beg of you to put your pants back on

I hate this itchy hat

Titanic Extras hear that they have to do extra hours

people waiting to board the titanic watch someone fall off the plank

pov: you’re a time traveler

guy in the flatcap is embarrassed by patriotism and pathos

No idea. For some reason Le Marseillaise comes to mind

Is this from Harry Potter?

disneyland main street usa workers on strike

local tries to hide behind Newsies cap to avoid unpleasant but inevitable conversations. meanwhile, some very fashionable ladies look on.

"Thank fuck, 2020 was just a dream after all"

“We gather here today because this bitch got exactly what she deserved” “heaven!” “Stfu Stephanie she’s going to hell and we all know it”-- not quite but this basically happens later on in the opera (and act) so yeah (except the person in question very much Did Not Deserve It)

dc movie filter on bridgerton

america?

looks like my history teacher paused the prohibition documentary again

Who still wears page boy hats bro?

Coming out to a room of people who Already Knew That

Bitches are relieved at some party.

Several drunk people exiting getting off the subway attempting to seem sober and rational but realizing they have somehow lost all of their possessions

How tf do I act natural in this situation-- closest

“do you think any of them noticed that I don’t know the pledge of allegiance” 

It's too fucking hot outside for this outfit 

?

when hyyh yoonkook ending just hits different 

pedestrians watch in horror as the triangle shirtwaist factory burns and the workers throw themselves out of the windows from a dozen stories up 

Starting the pledge of allegiance be like 

He's having a heart attack oh no oh god oh fuck

originally taken from: if I remember correctly, the Semperoper Dresden’s 2018 semi-staging of Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, with Jonas Kaufmann as Gabriel von Eisenstein

Responses:

“William Shakespeare wrote: "To thine own self be true And it must follow, as the night the day Thou canst not then be false to any man" I believe this wise statement best applies to a woman A blonde woman Over the past three years she taught me And showed us all That being true to yourself never goes out of style Ladies and gentlemen Our valedictorian: Elle Woods!” - legally blonde the musical

eat ass, suck a dick, and sell drugs

woooooorrrrd

Finally Jonas has graduated! It’s about time, considering he’s an international star.

what my professors think they look like

Prof. Dr. Dr. When someone tells him there are more than two genders

'and since you've now graduated high school, you'll be entering college etc. blablabla' .........meanwhile, there's a whole row of graduates daring each other to chug the cheap vodka one of them has brought in gallons (yes that happened at my graduation, lol)

Jonas darling baby <3-- can’t argue with that

I just realized I have no idea what the actual fuck happens in an opera

ok this one is just what jonas kaufmann always wears you can't fool me.

"as valedictorian i will share with you the importance of loving the floor"

"Yes, mother, my art degree will make me money!"

Graduation speakers are out, singers are in

Senior year takes a new meaninbg

mansplainer professor explains the concept of feminism to women

Your Prof when you finally turn in that missing assignment be like

younger boris johnson (derogatory)

jonas kaufmann retires from opera and takes up motivational speaking

What a fine graduation evening we’re having today

-70 points for slytherin you all have no swag

A man with a college hat sings.

An obviously greying actor trying to play a university student in a low-budget porn parody

How it feels to graduate high school after being held back for years

East High is a place where teachers encouraged us to break the status quo and define ourselves as we choose. Where a jock can cook up a mean crème brûlée, and a brainiac can break it down on the dance floor-

I may not have been "cool" in high school, but in ten years you will all be working for me!

I finally got my GED!

that one guy in ur intro to cultural anthropology class who mansplains to the professor somehow fucking graduated

he;s just graduating and taking his speech too serously idk

Graduation speeches with that one dude who got held back 3 times

Smrt

originally taken from: the Metropolitan Opera’s 2011 staging of Gioachino Rossini’s Le Comte Ory with Joyce DiDonato (left) as Isolier, Diana Damrau (center) as Countess Adèle, and Juan Diego Florez (right) as Le Comte Ory (disguised as a hermit)

Responses:

There is something very [disturbing grunts] About polyamorous couples - polyamorous, Chris Fleming

jinkies

femme fatale (including to herself)

I’ll have a threesome soon !

Hot guy walks by, everyone swoons.

thirdwheeling friend does not realize the other two are having sex

When your girlfriend had „just two beers“ again

jesus is exasperated about having to drag the two ladies towards doing what he needs them to do instead of purple dramatically declaring suicidal intent over the smallest trivial matters and red being equally dramatic about declaring that it's not the way! stay alive! i love you!!

The throuple is thriving

Get off the milf

orgy

my last three braincells because im a horny slut

countess receives too much love and is confused on how to react

Rasputin's lesser known romp with a much older czarina of russia

Woman's soul leaves body

Jesus and co. are worried after another woman gets pregnant without having sex

bisexual looks at photos of celebrity couples

When you go to the party to socialize with new people but your weirdo friend group starts getting clingy

Jesus cumming

one of those weird church christmas pageants but everybody's drunk

What have I done

Hozier??????????

Jesus assfucks some purple lady being hugged.

This time, the chick IS the magnet

An affair/threesome gone awry (2019 colorized)

What do you mean they canceled GLOW?

“I TOLD you it was cashmere!”

Are you wearing the - - The Gucci dress? Yes I am.

It's not what it looks like!

jesus is fucking that one cheerleader who grew up to be a suburban mom with one (1) super cool dress she stole from her kid who is desperately hugging her middle begging for it back because the spring fling is coming up and jason might actually make eye contact with her for more than three seconds.

jesus and mary magdaline and some other bitch

I’m at a bar and these drunk girls are flirting with me, do I lOOK GAY?!

Shrek 5, jesus's return

c. 2025 First attempt of an Officer and his Wife with a Handmaiden (colourized)

just about all of these are close lol

originally taken from: the Bolshoi Theater’s 1993 staging of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky’s The Maid of Orléans, featuring Nina Rautio (left) as Joan of Arc and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (right) as Thibaut d’Arc

Responses:

Don’t look, I’m still pooping

yall, the audacity of this man. he fuckin talked to me

*i can't even tell you how wrong you are* *it would be insulting to ME*-- closest

Cospeto!

„No I’m not talking to you, you keep cracking bad jokes!“ - „But I got another!“

when you’re mad at him but he says he’ll buy you food if you cheer up

When I’m wallowing in self-pity but my friends won’t comfort me

right: wanna fuck ;) left: yeah, fuck OFF lmao

Her face is screaming “don’t tell me what to do”

Yeah I got nothing

gay man tries to hit on a lesbian bc he thinks she's a twink. she's not amused but she's watching this happen anyway

me tired of MET's bullshit and them organising a Netrebko, known blackface apologist, a recital during Black History Month. (sorry im still fucking salty lol)

"stop smiling at me like that I'm trying to pout over here"

"I got fleas, you got fleas... wanna fuck?"

I have the best idea!

Haha nooooo don’t hit me with that bat you’re so sexxyy

lesbian is bothered by dilf

Me trying to flirt

if call me by your name was hetero and set in america

how many more dad jokes can i take before i explode

So. You’ve gotten yourself in a little pickle again.

What if we fought in the Russian revolution together ✨???????... unless??

Two people flirt in a poor place of town/

"If you ask me what I've got under this dirty, shapeless tunic one more time I swear to god I will kick your rotting teeth in"

You look like ur gonna kill me but ok

Really? You again?

Okay, I’ve been sitting here for 20 minutes, do you think it’s safe to—oh god, he’s still there.

Have you seen Godot?

she is tired of everyone’s shit. she has done so many derivatives it physically pains her to see a variable. dont test her. ur icarus rn.

idk pick better pictures-- I HAVE DIED THE SHEER AUDACITY AND HUBRIS I LOVE THIS

200% done with your crap 

Homeless man has fucking legs of steel n is gonna show off his Russian dance moves

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2019 staging of Paul Dukas’ Ariane et Barbe-bleue, featuring Sophie Koch (right) as Ariane and I don’t remember who the person on the left is rip me

Responses:

The knight who wore this into battle sure was swaggy

dear god its hiddeous

Capitalism

Knight in shining armour gone even more wrong.

ghost contemplates the safety of spiky motorcycle helmet

„Stop! He feels bullied!“

'this is my newest take for jesus's crucifixion crown ...... what do you mean they already put him up'

That’s probably a really expensive magic helmet idk. IDK-- closest

Omg I love the adventure zone!

minesweeper (windows xp)

"Okay whatever you do don't touch the shiny spiky ball" "It's so shiny I wanna touch it"

Taking down the trash way too late

IT'S NOT A PHASE MOM

Darth Vader got stuck in the freezer.... again. Leia isn’t happy

Star Wars 2030

“And here is the very latest in motorcycle helmet trends” “Look, I only came to the mall for a pair of socks “

futuristic kkk

long-suffering jewelry store attendant really wants to retire

Put it down put it down put it down

“Hmm no you should see a doctor about that”

A weird ass crown is presented

The creation of sars-cov-2: an experimental Eurotrance nightclub art piece gone horribly wrong

How it feels to want something that u cant have

AND WE WILL CALL IT—SPIKE MAN actually do you think that’s too obvious?? Because of the—yeah, because of the spikes?? See, that’s what I’m worried about. I want it to be SCARY

I know it's risky but... lube me up

?

use the force luke.

that is a weird fleshlight

When you get an ugly gift and need to find a way to get rid of it, so your family member/friend offers to smash it

Touch the orb

originally taken from: the Opera Vlaanderen’s 2019 staging of Fromental Halévy’s La Juive, with Nicole Chevalier (left, with bottle) as Princess Eudoxie, Enea Scala (center, under table) as Prince Léopold, and Roy Cornelius Smith (right) as Éléazar

Responses:

When no one comes to your birthday party :(

fantastic, day 487 of mischief and they have yet to find my masterful hiding spot

i really wonder who he thinks he's playing footsie with

Marriage crisis. Reason sits under the table-- closest but not in the way you think (after all, the man under the table IS a tenor).

the last supper afterparty after jesus left

When you order the last supper on wish

espionage at the Politischer Rosenmontag

Probably the wrong opera but is that Leporello under the table

Now THIS is a Good Friday night

this was every birthday party i went to between the ages of 5 and 11

that awkward moment when you drop your fork under the table but when you re-emerge everyone else has left except one drunk lady and the guy trying to deal with her

After the last supper

Tfw you arrive to the dinner party too early and have to hide until a more fashionable hour

When the cishets aren’t home

waiter hides from customers

Nobody: My dog every time I’m eating:

what's left of the homies Jesus had dinner with

university chem lab experiment gone terribly wrong

I’ve been under the table FOR 30 MINUTES

Set your friends up by tossing them off under the table, they’ll think it’s each other n fall in luv

Someone hids under a table

"You're about to see an surreptitious-under-the-table-dick-sucking master at work"

5 yr old me trying to eat the desert under the table without my parents finding out be like:

They never invite me to their parties!

Just another girl’s night in

Oops! Didn’t notice you the table.

dionysus - bts (2019, colorized)

just a normal episode of eric andre (eric is the one under the table)

Just a normal day with the boys

Thievery

originally taken from: the Théâtre de Capitole du Toulouse’s 2017 staging of Giacomo Meyerbeer’s Le prophète, featuring Kate Aldrich (left, surrounded by women in white) as Fidès and John Osborn (center, looking like a Jesus doppelganger) as Jean de Leyde

Responses:

Hold up, is that Eggman above Jesus?

holy disco

Looks like Tannhäuser. Our lord and saviour Richard Wagner. Now I need to be saved from that.

catholicism

me defending pineapple on pizza (THANK YOU)

jesus but hes about to be abducted by the alien ufo above him

Emmmmmmm Heaven? Idk

Lord of the rings?

ewww christianity gross

"behold, I am Important"

"Seriously?? It's not ACTUALLY pyjama day? Fuck you guys!"

Jesus at the Disco

Jesus Finds The Molerat People Who Live Under Bethlehem

disco is heaven

Want to join my new religion?

the kkk

church christmas pageant where everyone's sober but it's based on the director's fever dream

Am I the only one who sees the giant demon? Just me? Okay...

“Oh god I think I’m starting my period”

A party is held with a priest in the middle

"Let's get this secret Vatican sex party rolling!"

The new avengers endgame set is looking great!!

You know, guys, I try not to be a bother but...I can’t help but feel like I missed a dress code memo for this wedding??? It’s cocktail, right??”

Jesus visits Hogwarts

I must really stink if no one will even come close to me

the extra ass funeral i DESERVE

star wars life day

A cult at it’s best-- closest

Shrek 5, Jesus is still there I guess

originally taken from: the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden’s 2013 staging of Giuseppe Verdi’s Les vêpres siciliennes, featuring Bryan Hymel (left, standing) as Henri, Lianna Haroutounian (center, kneeling in the black gown) as Duchess Hélène, and Erwin Schrott (kneeling to her right) as Jean Procida

Responses:

When the director’s like “great rehearsal guys, just a few notes before I let you go” but it’s already 9:13 and your mom’s waiting in the parking lot

loyalist of subjects

bow before your queen

They forgot to take down the stage boxes after the Vienna opera ball but the show must go on.

somebody forgot to book chairs for this funeral

Me sharing God’s (Hayley koyoko) word on the discord server

mass execution bc the oboe solo sucked ass-- closest

That’s too many black suits I can’t see shit

I can’t even tell what’s going on here

8th grade school assembly about how it's uncool to shit on the walls at school

let's all get fancy so we can go to the opera and sit on the stage (idk this one's hard lol)

"Yes i am a time traveller, now don't freak out"

Tfw you forget to pay your lighting bills

White guys make decisions that will benefit them and screw someone that’s not a white guy over-- OUCH but that is too real (although not really in context here)

dead man gives speech at his own funeral

brotus and the boys ??? last meeting before the stabbing

high society social function ends in mass murder-- right opera, wrong scene

Someone walks into the talent show stage with a dog

Black-dressed bitches worship a man.

Worst school assembly of all time

POV:You're the window in the classroom and someone said "its snowing"

When the conductor shows up fashionably late to the orchestra concert

That's what you get for choosing the cheapest ticket option, get back in the mud where you belong

?

theyre just trying to jump into a grave at a funeral leabe them alone this is normal

oh my god he really whipped his dick out in front of everyone, this is just like in 1776 guys, except some women are actually in the room this time,

A funeral, stop wearing so much black

I want to slap their bald heads like rice

originally taken from: the Teatro Real Madrid’s 2018 staging of Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Roberto Tagliavini (right) as Raimondo

Responses:

Crowd “haha!! Looks like someone missed the all-black memo!! Now it’s laugh-in-your-face time! / Guy on the floor (whispering to guy against wall): go, save yourself! I’ll hold them off...”

if i leave now i wont be a witness and can tell the police i had no idea

it was the best of times, it was the worst of times

Guy in the back pretends to help but is to far away to even know what’s going on.

priest walks in on beginning of an orgy, contemplated joining but is too scared-

when someone brings up capitalism but you’re just trying to play minecraft

lol lets trample this guy while the judge isnt looking

Again. Too many black costumes

Loved this Dostoevsky novel

i would know if opera directors were more creative with clothing choices ngl

me on parties lol

"imma just sneak out of here while everyone else is distracted"

"Where did he get this flooring!? Amazing!"

Everyone act normal!

The tell tale heart but they got REALLY drunk

man tposes to ward off vampires after being caught undercover

boys ???? night

the priest really shouldn't have visited the insane asylum-- closest

He’s FINE everyone’s been hit by a car before

Something happens in a room.

Perks of being a wallflower

There's always that one person in the fight whos trying not to get involved when they really wanna

Oh good, they’re all posing for a Rembrandt painting, I can just sneeeeaaak out the back here...

The gamer livestreaming Resident Evil + everyone watching the stream ? waiting for him to open the door just knowing it will trigger a chase scene

Quick!

the guy t posing in the back is regretting his every decision.-- also accurate

the us senate jumps ted cruz, some other wack ass gop senator is trying to sneak away

...I spoke too soon, however this is a James Bond mission

Queers help fellow queer do math but it's a struggle

[writings-of-a-daphodil]

Fire Keeper: Chapter 7

Douxie x fem reader

Chapter 1

Masterlist in bio!

Series Summary: You are Jim’s older sister who is taking a break from college and has moved back home to Arcadia. You end up joining Jim and his friends on their adventures. Chapter 7 summary: You head to Florida with the rest of the Trollhunter's to get the next Triumbic stone.

“If Wumpas don’t let outsiders into their camp, how do we get the stone?” Jim asked as you got ready to ride the gyre again. You weren’t exactly looking forward to it.

“Jim makes a good point. I’ve read about them, they do not like outsiders,” you added.

“Don’t worry! I already have a plan! It’s rudimentary.” Blinky paused. “If Quagawumps are hostile to outsiders, we’ll need an insider! One of you is going to pretend to be the human reincarnation of the Shattered King! It’s genius!”

“What? That’s insane!” Jim yelled as the gyre started spinning you to your destination.

“You, Tobias, bear a most striking resemblance to their dead king,” Blinky explained as he drove.

“Me?” Toby asked and you looked at him.

“I see it,” you said nodding.

“Yes. The Quagawumps are short and stout in stature. It’ll be a role of a lifetime. Mostly because if they see past our little charade, the time of our lives will end,” Blinky said enthusiastically as you got off the gyre. “Well, we better get a move on!”

“This place is creepy. Where are we?” Claire asked and you smiled at her. It was nice to have another girl in the group and she was really nice.

“A place renowned for its vast swamps, theme parks, and retirement communities. Florida!” Blinky exclaimed as you walked through the green swampy path.

“Come on, Your Eminence. Your people await,” CLaire called to Toby as he hesitated.

“So, Claire, how are you liking your time as a member of team Trollhunter?” You asked as you hopped over some stones.

“All of this is fascinating, who knew there was a whole world living underneath Arcadia!” She exclaimed.

You chuckled. “It was quite a shock.”

Aaarrrgghh grunted ahead of you and you slowed, ready to summon your sword—which you were slowly improving with—or incant a spell.  The tall grass rustled and you opened your mouth when Wumpas began chanting and pointing weapons at your group.

“Mmm! Humans! A taste not common.” One of the Wumpas commented and you forced yourself to smile kindly. They hadn’t seen Toby yet, and it wouldn’t be good if you started blasting the Wumpas.

“Toby?” Claire asked as the Wumpas got closer.

“Okay,” Toby said, stepping in front. “It is I, the Shower King!”

“Shattered,” Blinky hissed and you tried not to face-palm.

“The Shattered King! Reincarnated as a human,” Toby amended, making ghost noises.

“You are not a ghost,” Jim whispered and the Wumpas began chanting. You didn’t know if this was good or bad so you didn’t let down your guard.

“Gunmar kill you. You cannot be. Prove you are he,” another Wumpa commanded. “Show us great magics, god king.”

They continued chanting and you got ready to do a spell for Toby, but Blinky pushed your hands down and shook his head.

“Ahem...?” Toby asked, panicking, but you shook your head.

“Okay. All right, now. Stand back. This one’s not for the faint of heart. Abara-cadabara, nothing up my sleeve-ara!” Toby called out and then proceeded to ‘detach’ his thumb from his hand. You gave Blinky a look and he just shrugged.

“He dismembered his hand and then rejoined his flesh and bone!” A Wumpa whispered in awe.

“His magic is so powerful,” another one murmured. They began chanting.

“Hi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yah! Hi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi-yah!” They called.

“The lost king, retuned!” A Wumpa announced as you walked into a clearing.

“I don’t believe it,” Jim muttered as you turned to see a statue of a troll that looked remarkably like Toby.

“Neither do I,” Claire muttered back.

“Ugh, I know right? He doesn’t even look anything like me,” Toby said, rolling his eyes. You shook your head, smiling, as a few Wamaps picked up Toby and began admireing him.

Soon they stopped and began to sing. The song was beautiful and while it sounded sorrowful, it also sounded peaceful. It reminded you of water, of a stream. You stood there with your eyes closed, allowing yourself to enjoy the music.  

You were amazed and excited. No one in the books you had read had ever heard a Wumpa sing.

“A song of a Quagawump. No outsider has ever heard such a rare delight,” Blinky whispered, barely audible.

“Catchy!” Aaarrrgghh hummed in agreement.

“Awesome Sauce!” Toby called.

“This song is so beautiful,” Claire said, turning to Jim. You stepped back and walked to a table to give them some privacy.

“Ah! Fresh swamp maggots!” Blinky exclaimed, taking a bite out of some very slimy and gross eel-like food.

“Ugh!” Claire exclaimed and you gagged. Jim took a seat at another table and took a bite, immediately dropping to the floor and spitting it out. You decided to push the bowl away from you.

Toby sat on his throne and Blinky went to speak to him. You watched as you polightly refused all the food they offered, if you got hungry you would rather wait.

A Wumpa suddenly grabbed Blinky in a choke hold and you lept to your feet, ready to defend him. However, you sat down again when the Wumpa let go of Blinky.

The room became silent as Toby began to recount his life story and since you had been around for a good deal of it you hid behind Aaarrrgghh and read on your phone.

You had just come across a section on Creeper’s Poison when Jim went to speak with Toby.

Soon the Wumpas began to clap and stomp so you put your phone away. “My king? After journey, what is song you bring?” One of the Wumpas asked.

“Hmm. Jim, song?” Toby asked, but Jim just stuttered and backed away.

You opened your mouth to say something that would help Toby, but he took a deep breath and began singing his own song. You cringed a little, especially when the Wumpas didn’t seem to like the song, but you relaxed when they began singing and dancing.

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh began to dance while you sat and smiled at them. You couldn’t help but imagine dancing with Douxie, but you snapped yourself out of it. Crushing on Douxie would only lead to heartbreak.

Jim walked up to you, saving you from your thoughts, and sat down.

“You good?” You asked.

“I guess. Toby won’t ask for the stone until I ask Claire to the dance.”

“Ohh, sorry, Jimbo.”

“It’s fine,” he sighed and you patted his back. Jim could not dance for the life of him. You had tried to teach him once and it only led to ruin.

Claire walked over and held her hand out to Jim. “Come on.”

“Uh...” Jim looked to you for help, but you shook your head. It would be awkward, but he would have fun.

“It’s catchy,” Claire stated and you could tell she was growing more nervous the longer Jim hesitated.

“Oh sure in a minute. Ohh, I’m just digesting,” Jim stuttered out after you gave him a little nudge.

“Everyone right. Wuss. Wuss,” Aaarrrgghh said as he danced past and you frowned at him when you saw both Claire and Jim blush. Peer pressure wouldn’t help Jim.

“He’s correct, master Jim. Wussing out,” Blinky added and you glared at him as well.

“You’ll be fine, Jim,” you said, soothingly.

“Well, why don’t you dance, Y/n? Would rather dance with Douxie,” Jim teased, but you could tell he was starting a conversation to buy himself time. Nevertheless you blushed.

“Who’s Douxie?” Claire asked.

“Y/n’s friend,” Jim explained.

“Really Jim?” You raised your eyebrows and glared at him and he seemed to realize that he shouldn’t taunt you.

He turned to Blinky instead. “How many people did you tell?”

You rolled your eyes at your brother, but decided to let it go.

“So...Douxie?” Claire asked, obviously trying to start a conversation after Jim practically ignored her.

“We work different shifts at Mr. Benoit’s, but we always bump into each other. We became friends.”

“Just friends?” Claire asked, seeming genuinely interested. Oh, yes, it was definitely nice to have another girl in the group.

“I don’t know, he’s known as a bit of a flirt with everyone. He’s nice though.”

“Mhmm,” Claire said, nodding and you smiled at her.

Aaarrrgghh walked up as Jim finished talking with Blinky and asked Claire to dance. “Can’t go wrong.”

Jim sighed and you gave him a thumbs up as he joined the dance and eventually danced with Claire. You smiled at the sweet moment they were having, trying not to imagine it was you, there with Douxie.

“What manner mischief this be?!” A large green troll yelled, stomping into the room. You jumped up, distracted from your thoughts and ready to defend yourself and your friends.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who’s this joker?” Toby asked and you readied a spell.

“It is Blungo, the pretend king. You fight him, eh?” One of the Wumpa’s explained and you began to walk closer. This troll did not look like good news.

“Why humans here?” Blungo asked.

“He is our true king. Returned!” A Wumpa explained.

“What?” Blungo grunted.

“Hi, Mr. Blungo,” Toby said, scared.

“Shatter-ed King cannot be. King was shatter-ed! King am I!” Blungo protested and you picked up your pace. Toby was way too vulnerable up there.

“My favorite musical!” Toby said, chuckling nervously as Blungo picked him up.

“What?” Blungo asked.

“It’s like a play with singing,” Toby explained, but Blungo just yelled at him.

“Use your magic, my King. Cast Blungo away you will!” The Wump advised.

“That’s the plan,” you mumbled as Toby tried the dismemberment trick again.

Blungo laughed, “Dismemberment amuse Blungo. Now, I dismember you!”

“Oh, boy! Does anybody have a dove? Toby asked as you carefully stepped behind Blungo.

Blungo began shaking him. “Hey, please don’t kill me, Blungo. I’m not the king, okay?” Toby admitted.

“Why you here?” Blungo asked as you thought of a spell.

“I only made it up to get the stone.” As Toby admitted these things Angor Rot appeared and stabbed Blungo with a dagger that glowed green. It was creepers sun poison, having just read about it you were sure.

You summoned your sword as the Wumpas began to panic and Angor Rot gave a quick spiel. Jim summoned his armor and you sent an orange blast at Angor Rot.

The shot missed and hit Blungo, shattering him.

“Jim, he’s taking the stone!” Toby yelled as Angor Rot tried to grab the green jem.

You jogged to your brother, without Daylight he was vulnerable. Before you arrived Angor charged Jim and before you could do anything Jim had a new weapon in his hands.

Aaarrrgghh charged Angor Rot and you, Jim, and Aaarrrggghhh took the fight to the trees.

“Be careful! His blade is poisoned with Creeper’s Sun!” Blinky yelled as you leapt off a branch that was quickly turning to stone.

“One cut and you’ll be turned to stone,” you added.

You tried to strike Angor with your sword, but your balance was lost and you levitated to a lower branch. You watched in horror as Aaarrrgghh took over the fight and got nicked with Angor's dagger. You screamed and flew to meet Angor Rot. He would not live when met with your vengeance.

You hit the branch hard, but as you appeared Angor Rot teleported away to Toby who was holding the stone.

“Hey, everyone! I’ve got the stone!” Toby announced, but seconds after he said it Angor Rot grabbed it.

Angor Rot slapped Toby and he smiled as he walked into his portal.

You screamed in anguish and Claire said something as well, but you couldn't hear. You screamed again though when Claire followed Angor Rot through the portal, tackling him into the shadow realm.

“Claire!” Jim yelled and the seconds ticked by painfully before Claire reappeared with the shadow staff, but without the stone.

It was bad that you lost the stone, but you were incredibly glad Claire was safe and it was a relief to see Aaarrrgghh wasn't going to die anytime soon. He would be able to find help in Trollmarket.

So, you said your goodbyes, eager to get home. Though this place was beautiful, it was not safe.

~~~~

"Really, Tobes?" You asked as you walked him and Aaarrrgghh to his house.

"What? Claire has the shadow staff so I was thinking Shadow Dancer for her. We already call Jim the Trollhunter and so we should call you Fire Keeper. I haven't thought of one for myself though."

"Fire Keeper, cool nickname," Aaarrrgghh added and you smiled.

"Why Fire Keeper?" You asked.

"Your magic looks like fire." Toby shrugged as he walked into the house.

He looked to you and Aaarrrghh, but you shook your head. "I need a minute. I want to ask Aaarrrgghh a question," you explained and Toby nodded, shutting the door.

"I saw you got nicked by Angor's dagger, are you okay?" You asked. Concern had been eating away at you for the entire journey home.

"Fine, talk to Vendel in morning."

You nodded," If you need anyhting, I'm here, big guy."

"Yes and Fire Keeper good nickname, fits you," Aaarrrgghh added and you smiled.

"Tell Toby I like it." You gave Aaarrrgghh a hug and wished him goodnight.

As you walked across the street from your house you tried not to focus on Aaarrrgghh's predicament. You were taken from your thoughts though, when you heard something rattle a trashcan.

"Ugh! Raccon's!" you groaned. You performed a spell that made your hand glow so you could see better, but what you saw was not raccons.

You didn't recognize the creature, but there was no doubt in your mind that it was magic. You found yourself very relived that you knew how to vanish monsters back to limbo.

You began to say the spell, but the thing bolted. You gave chase and raced through the woods after it.

It eventually found it's way to the streets of Arcadia and you hoped that no one would be out. You found yourself near the bookshop and so you you were more or less familiar with the area.

You cut into an Alley, hoping to gain an advantage when you ran right into Douxie.

“Oh! Y/n, uh, what are-what are you doing here?” Douxie asked as you skidded to a halt.

“I’m, um...going for a jog. Yes, I am going for a jog.”

“In that?” Douxie gestured to your outfit and you smiled, nervously.

“Well, it wasn't planned," you said.

“Okay...What have you been up to. I haven’t seen you at the bookstore in a while,” he asked and you blushed.

“I got a temporary job as a babysitter,” you explained. It wasn't a true lie, you had been spending a lot of time 'babysitting' Blinky.

"That is nuclear," Douxie said and you heard a crash sound behind him. It has to be whatever you were chasing.

"Um, yeah, nuclear. Well, I need to get going," you said, waving goodbye.

"Nice seeing you, Y/n."

"You too." You sprinted off into the alley, trying to resist the urge to look behind you. However, you still caught a glimpse of Douxie watching as you turned the corner.

****

Here it is. This is sort of setting up the scenes and relationships and there will definitely be more Douxie in future chapters. The next chapter will be out soon and it will probably a pretty long one. Thank y'all so much for reading this and liking this, it means so much to me when I see the notifications. Have a fantastic and safe day/night!

P.S. if you want to be on the taglist feel free to ask. I hope it works and please message me if it doesn’t.

Chapter 8: https://writings-of-a-daphodil.tumblr.com/post/628215466866950144/fire-keeper-chapter-8

[0someoneliving0]

Hi, hello! @arlingtonssweetheart did a challenge and i noticed that i posted my oc's few drawings but i never give info about her. You understand what gonna come next, right? Yeah i think time to give some info about her!

I was gonna draw her but well

Name: Lysandra Rebecca

Nationality: British

Language: English - Russian - Turkish (Her mother is Turkish yeah)

Birthday: 12 November

Departman: Pure and Applied Scineces

Love Interest: Tegan Novák (She likes him because she thinks he is so soft)

Introduce your scholar please. 

Let's Really Know Her, Ey? But Firstly Let's Start With Past!

Lysa born in London, Croydon. (Yeah i did my homework while i created her ok?) (Her mother is an artist and her father is a coder. They have a game company) But the town never like her mother or their siblings (2 older brother, 1 younger) bucause they look different. When her younger sister become six her father says "Hey i been in Russia a while ago why not we go there and make an new start?" (Ofc he not say that but i'm making her life summary and translate it at the same time.) So her new life start there. She had a girl friend named Olivia. When she become older and older she noticed something. She had feelings for her. When she noticed that she start flirting with Olivia and Olivia start flirting with her. But some people finds that distgusting. (I CAN'T FIND A SOFTER WORD FOR THAT. BUT DON'T BE A HOMOFOBIC CU-) And some time later that same people who finds what they do disgusting (The same homofobic cu-) invite them to spent some time. And when Olivia accept the invite naturally she accept it too. Because she doesn't want her to be alone with them. But the thing doesn't turn out good. I drew her with scars. (WHEN I DON'T FUCKING FORGET OFC) This is where that scars came from. When that happen her parents doesn't want to be there anymore and she applied to Arlington Acemedy.

THAT'S ENOUGH DRAMA FOR TODAY! NOW, PERSONALITY!

After what happened she become more cold, agrassive, violent and repartee to persons she don't know. But if you know her she probably try to make you smile/laugh, became more soft and let her guard down. (Don't make her sad pls) I said she is violent to people she don't know right? Yeah if you know her and she doesn't like you she is still be like that. And if she don't like you well you got one more things to that things. And it's threat. If she say "i'm gonna stab you with a goddamn fork" run. She probably gonna do it. And just teachers or Tegan can stop her. But like i said of you know her and she likes you, she became more her old self. More relaxed, more joking around, more crazy chaotic.

If a LI had a crush on your scholar, who would it be and  why would they have the crush? (It’s time to flex about your scholar  :) )

Well... Let's See.

If some one had a crush on her it's probably Ellie. I mean Lysa all the time with TnT and Ellie and they see her real self more than anyone. And it's mean her chaotic plans makes Ellie had a crush on her.

How does your scholar differ from the canon scholar we see in the game?  

MORE VIOLENT! MORE BLOOD LOVER! Wait- no! Not blood lover. Sorry. She is more violent yes, but not just violent. She is more flirty than the canon scholar. If you don't say to her she gonna flirt with you 24/7. She's a little control freak. More emotional.

If your scholar could change departments to which would they go to and why? 

Performing Arts or Fine Arts. She had dance lessons and singing lessons while she was little. And she had her mothers talented hands. So she choice one of the art departman.

Pet names? If yes what do they say?

Honey she is British. Is i say "no" it's gonna be a lie. (Sorry to British people who doesn't use pet names) She generally use "love, honey, darling, dear" but sometimes she can use "sunshine"

If your scholar is not your self-insert how much do your personalities differ? If your scholar is your self-insert would you change something? 

We are quite same. I'm violent, agressive and use pet names so much. But there is of course different things. Like she is more confident and i'm not. She can joke about something or say something while i always overthink everything.

Your scholar got detention! What was the reason and what would their LI say and/or do?  

OOOOH! SHE PUNCH TIFFANY! Lady A see this and she yell "BUT THAT BITCH DESERVES! SHE TALK KAROL'S BACK!" When Tegan hear this from class 1 he look at her. When he catch her alone he ask her if she is okay or not.

Describe a date between the LI and your scholar/seeker.

A indoor movie picnic night. She makes a little indoor tent, chose few movie and turn on the little light on her room for a romantic ambiance. Tegan will brought the snacks and drinks. (She said she had energy drink but he said no :( )

AND THAT'S IT! IF YOU READ THIS FAR; THANK YOU! NOW I'M GONNA GO AND SLEEP! HAVE A GOOD DAY!

[saltwatersweets]

bnha characters watch bnha

so because i’m a simple slut with simple tastes, we’re going with a bnha au where a good amount of characters are transported to a room and cannot leave until they have watched all of my hero academia. the characters’ memories are somewhere between season 2 and season 3. chaos, screaming, unlikely understandings, friendships, and, most importantly, hijinks ensue. 

everyone decides to adopt young izuku, including the villains (well, specifically toga) 

people sliiiiightly judge bakugou for how much of a jerk to izuku he was before ua

“bro. telling people to jump off buildings is the farthest thing from manly.” “yeah yeah, i know shitty hair.”

he’s TRYING but also he’s a little shit

kirishima thinks it's incredibly manly how izuku ran into the fight with the sludge villain to save bakugou, and realizes that that's the boy he heard about all those months ago 

a few of 1-a is surprised that izuku was quirkless, but no one judges him for it 

people are enthralled with the "one for all" story, and shouto is a little disappointed his theory that izuku is all might's child did turn out to be false. though... his father hasn’t actually been shown yet, has he?

aizawa: *does anything that suggests he’s tired*

shinsou, every time, without fail: mood 

inko clutches izuku very tightly during the usj attack, as if to reassure herself he’ll be okay.

mineta: *does anything, ever*

literally everyone: ew

everyone laughs at “are you really all might’s secret love child or something?”, but laughs quickly turn into looks of worry when shouto explains exactly how he got his quirks. all might is horrified that his spot as the number one hero caused endeavor to “train” his children, and something akin to wavering disbelief flashes in hawks’ eyes

a lot of people try to reassure shinsou that his quirk is really cool and heroic and useful during and after his battle with izuku, while the villains glance among each other in interest. a useful quirk indeed.

kaminari: hey, don’t worry, with a face like that, you could get any villain talking to you in no time!

shinsou:

shinsou: did you just... flirt with me?

after “todoroki shouto: origin” happens, most of the people in the room begin booing endeavor when he shows up onscreen, and dabi decides hey, maybe these brats they’re supposed to attack in a few days aren’t so bad after all

on the opposite end of the spectrum, the room erupts into cheering and clapping when “it’s yours! your quirk, not his!” causes shouto to accept both sides of his power. does it matter they knew he’d use his left side eventually? not at all

a few people are very distraught over stain finding ingenium, even spinner to a lesser extent, since he’d never really thought of ingenium as too bad a “hero”. the students are quick to distract iida and move onto the next part of the story. it doesn’t do much, not really, but he appreciates it.

endeavor grumbles lightly about how shouto could have won the sports festival if he had used his left side during his fight with bakugou. no one pays him any mind.

there's a collective sigh of relief + cheering when izuku shows up to save iida from stain, even though they knew he'd be fine 

during the exams arc, all the students from 1-a cheer each other on, despite the fact that they know who passes and who doesn't

eri is surprised to find out that nezu was experimented on. he wasn’t cursed like she was, why did it happen to him?

the camp arc is filled with a lot of screaming, yelling, and panic, and everyone (even a few of the villains) are on the edge of their seats in fear when izuku is fighting muscular. inko and all might have about fifty heart attacks each 

as soon as the dabi onscreen uses his quirk, fuyumi is very startled because “but that’s- that’s touya’s quirk!”

dabi: shit

bakugou is confident that future him will be just fine while captured by the LoV, but he's actually pretty afraid of what exactly they want him for 

almost EVERYONE is cheering all might on when he's facing off against all for one, and a shared feeling of horror clouds the room when it's revealed that he must retire 

during the next episode, natsuo attempts to break the tension

“well, no matter what happens, dad’ll always be number two in my heart.”

it works. fuyumi just sighs, but even she smiles a bit

everyone groans in frustration when bakugou yells at those two actors during the license exams arc, and it continues when shouto and wind boy from the other school (forgot his name) are fighting. it’s like when you’re watching sports and your favorite team has suddenly lost their brains but there’s nothing you can do except yell at the tv in anger

bakusquad ABSOLUTELY hugs bakugou when "when i'm the one who killed all might!" is said on the screen.

“what is this” “affection” “gross. keep doing it whatever idc”

plenty of people are laughing when mirio- or well, mirio's face- makes his debut 

kaminari exclaims “is his quirk turning people into potatoes?” when tamaki is introduced

the only thing stopping toga from stabbing the overhaul on the screen as soon as he kills magne is mr. compress, and even then it's only because they don't know if the screen will repair itself 

everyone - and i mean EVERYONE, even the villains - adopts eri the second she shows up in season four 

“i’ve only known eri for two seconds but if anything happened to her i’d kill everyone in this room and then myself” “shigaraki eri is also in this room” “did i stutter?”

he’s a little confused, but he has the spirit

after the group finds out what exactly eri is going through, there's a collective boo whenever overhaul is onscreen (the same thing happened with endeavor during season two, but it stopped at around the middle of season three) 

as you can see, i do not like overhaul. also, he's not here bc idk how to write him 

same thing with all for one, and a few other minor/major characters. afo can eat his own teeth for all i care.

everyone, especially the big three, izuku, and all might, are horrified when mirio loses his quirk

worst of all, eri just won’t stop apologizing, and despite his hidden shock and dismay, mirio tells her it’s not her fault, and he will do it again if he has to. future him will never let her get hurt again, and neither will he

dabi & spinner gain a lot of respect for mirio & izuku, since they're what stain would call true heroes. maybe there's a way they can make a new society without those two having to die 

no, everyone was NOT crying when eri jumped into izuku's arms in infinte 100%, what are you talking about? 

screaming. SO MUCH SCREAMING when deku is fully at 100% 

okay, they gave up trying to hide their tears when nighteye died. tamaki and nejire hold a shocked mirio a little closer, and barely are enough to keep eri from bursting into tearful apologies again. jeez, why did this arc have to be so emotional? 

mina is absolutely not above cheering herself on while dancing. she’d do it again in a heartbeat

everyone is enthralled with how pretty jirou's voice is. also, momo's gay now? what? 

despite the fact that they're criminals, a lot of people are greatly saddened by gentle and la brava’s backstories, and make a mental note to never let themselves forget them

the hero too song is met with a lot of cheering, dancing, and attempted singing (mostly thanks to bakusquad), and is generally a pretty lighthearted moment for the group. even some of the teachers and villains get in on the fun, especially twice

the todoroki siblings are hit with the horrible fact that despite everything, they do not want their father to die. even then, though...

endeavor: *gets his scar* 

shouto: wow, that must suck. wonder what that's like? 

natsuo has never been more proud of his brother than he is in that moment, and dabi has to carefully stop himself from laughing

might make a separate post for them reacting to the movies? but only if i get enough people asking for it

bnha characters watch bnha

[angelsandacceptance]

Criss Angel Is A Douchebag

On yet another case, the four young hunters find themselves in Sioux City, Iowa. Walking along the street, looking for a hotel, they pass by many people doing acts of sorts, some singing, some dancing, and more than a few doing magic tricks. 

Dean and Sam are forced to stop as they realize Chase and Harley had stopped walking behind them a ways back, watching (eyeing more like) a young magician doing a card trick. 

Dean rolls his eyes as the two backtrack. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Watching,” Chase replies simply.

“The show or the guy?” Dean asks, looking more annoyed by the second.

“Definitely both.”

“Does it matter?” Harley asks, looking at the guy up and down. 

“Oh, I recognize him,” Sam says.

“You do?” Dean asks, narrowing his eyes in confusion. 

“Yeah. That’s Jeb Dexter.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

“He’s famous of sorts.”

“Oh, I bet he is,” Harley mumbles.

“Those looks and that style. Surprised I haven’t seen him anywhere yet.”

“Like your dreams?” Dean mocks.

“Shut up, Dean. You’re only jealous you can’t rock guyliner like that.”

“Guyliner?” Dean asks slowly. He rolls his eyes at Jeb, who starts to act as though he’s having a seizure. “What a douchebag.”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“Come on! He’s faking a demon possession. Poorly, might I add.”

“So what? He’s hot!” Harley says.

Jeb, obviously hearing Harley’s comment, smirks as he locks eyes with her, giving her a wink.

“That’s it!” Dean exclaims, grabbing Harley and Chase by their arms and pulling them after him. “We’re leaving.”

As they continue walking, Dean and Harley hardly notice that he’s still holding onto her arm, despite Chase having yanked hers away almost immediately. 

“I can’t believe people actually fall for that crap,” Dean says bitterly. 

“It’s not all crap,” Sam defends.

“What part of that was not a steaming pile of bullshit?” Dean asks. 

“Him. His looks. His hair. His sty-” Chase is cut off by a death stare from her older brother. She simply responds in the most mature way she can think of- sticking her tongue out at him. 

“Okay, maybe that was crap, but that’s not all magicians,” Sam continues. “It takes skill.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot! You were into that sort of thing! You had a wand and a card deck.”

“Dude, I was thirteen,” Sam says, a little hushed. “It was a phase.”

“It’s not a phase, mom!” Chase says in a mocking voice. Sam shoots her a look. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! You all know I still have my wizarding robes, wand, and cauldron. So, it’s not like you were the only one with a magic phase, Sammy boy.”

“Just—it bugs me. You know, playing at demons and, and magic, when the real thing will kill you bloody,” Dean explains.

“But that’s the point. People like to get scared because it makes them feel better about real life. And to them, none of our lives are real.”

“Yeah, but it is real life. And it will kill you.”

“Like having ten stab wounds, but no tears in his shirt,” Harley says, reiterating the gist of their case. 

“Exactly,” Dean says, looking at her. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

***

Vance’s assistant finishes packing up Vance’s belongings into a bag before turning to the four hunters. Chase and Harley are on their phones looking up Jeb.

“So did your boss have any enemies that you know of?” Dean asks.

“Vance had plenty of enemies.”

“How so?” Sam asks.

“He would steal from other magicians. All the time.”

“What would he steal?”

“Stage effects, closeup techniques, anything he could get his hands on.”

“Is that enough to get him killed?” Dean asks hurriedly, annoyed at the girls.

“These guys take this stuff pretty seriously.”

“Did you find anything weird in Vance's stuff? Well, weirder?”

“Matter of fact, I did.” She pulls a tarot card out of Vance’s suitcase. The ten of swords. “He hated card tricks. Never wanted them around. Let alone in his precious cape.” She hands Sam the tarot card before asking about Chase and Harley, “Are they okay?”

“They’re fawning over some douchebag.” Dean sighs.

***

The four hunters walk into an expansive theater, spotting people with cameras and microphones. Jeb stands over by a far table, talking on his phone. A couple of older men sit at one table, talking amongst themselves. 

Dean makes a beeline for the older gentlemen while Chase and Harley wander near Jeb. After flashing their badges, Jeb shoos away his crew.

“Anything I can for you two lovely ladies?”

“Yes, actually. FBI, this is Manson and I’m Agent Franklin. We have some questions for you.”

Jeb raises his eyebrows at Chase but nods for her to continue. “Of course.”

“We’re looking into the death of Patrick Vance. Did you know him?”

Jeb shakes his head. “Know of him, yes. But I haven’t actually seen any of his work.”

“I have to ask, where were you at the time of his murder?” Harley asks. 

“I was doing a show. My big show here isn’t until later so I lined up a few gigs before then. That night I was at Rowane’s Bar and Club. Drunk people like magic shows as much as the next guy.”

“Thank you. Do you happen to use tarot cards in any of your acts?” Chase asks. 

“Nope. Just regular poker cards.”

“Thanks. Know anyone who does?”

“Not off the top of my head.”

“Well. That’s all. We might have to come back and ask more questions later.”

“If it means seeing you two again. Even if you don’t, look me up. I’m here for a few more days and I’d love to treat you girls to a drink.”

“Or we could get that drink now,” Harley says. 

Jeb shoots her a big smile. “That is something I can live with.” He starts to lead the way to the bar. “Follow me.”

Harley and Chase follow him without much caution, waving Dean off when he shoots them a look. 

***

“Why water? I thought we were having some fun?” Jeb asks Harley once they ordered their drinks.

“I don’t drink,” Harley shrugs, “Doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

“That sounds like an invitation.”

“More like a proposal,” Chase says, downing her drink; straight vodka on ice. 

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” Harley flirts.

“Well, what if I want it to be?”

“Guess you’ll just have to find out,” Chase says, leaning closer to Jeb, who keeps looking back and forth between the two friends. Harley rests her hand on his thigh.

Jeb smirks, raising his hand to brush a piece of hair away from Harley’s face and leans in to kiss her, but gets interrupted by a fist connecting with his face; specifically Dean’s fist.

“What the hell, Dean!” Harley yells.

“What, he touched you?” Dean says genuinely confused.

“Because he was about to kiss me, dumbass.”

“Look, dude, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend,” Jeb says defensively with his hands in the air. 

“I don’t, at most we’re makeout buddies.”

Sam and Chase look to each other with smug, shit eating grins on their faces, eyes screaming, “knew it”. 

“Really? I thought we were best buddies.” Dean says sarcastically.

“So did I, but apparently not. You constantly flirt with chicks and have one night stands. Let me have this one,” Harley says fuming.

“You can do better than him.”

“Maybe I don’t want to, ever think about that? So shut up and walk away before I make you.”

Dean raises his hands in surrender and goes to sulk in the corner of the room.

“Hmph, that’s what I thought,” Harley turns back to Jeb, “Wanna get out of here and away from that asshole?”

“Yes I do.”

Chase and Sam look from Harley, walking away with Jeb, to Dean, still pouting in the corner. “They are both such idiots,” Chase sighs. 

“Yep,” Sam agrees, shaking his head. 

***

Sam and Dean approach Chase, who is listening in on a conversation between Vernon and Charlie. 

“He's crazy, and you know it,” Vernon says. 

“He says he can do it.”

“Did you even try to talk him out of it?”

“Till I was blue in the face. But I tell you, Vernon, there was...there was something in his eyes.”

“'In his eyes'? You're both nuts.”

“The Chief, huh?” Dean says, breaking the conversation up. 

“What's the matter? Chief not your type?”

“You know, I could have you both arrested for obstruction of justice.”

“How? You're no Fed.”

“We con people for a living, son. Takes more than a fake badge to get past us.”

The three Winchesters laugh at the comment. 

“You got us. Yeah, we—we are actually—aspiring magicians,” Dean says. 

Chase gives him a look. 

“Yeah, we -- We came to the convention 'cause we thought we could learn something.”

“Yeah, get some ideas for our new show,” Chase says, going shopping with the story.

“Ooh, what kind of show?” Vernon asks.

“Well, it's-- It's a --“ Chase cuts herself off and looks to Sam. 

“It's a family act.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you know, with the rings and doves and...rings.”

“You want to learn something? Stick around.”

With this, Jay walks onto stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, what you're about to witness is a feat so daring, So dangerous, even the great Houdini dared not attempt it. I give to you...The executioner!” He announces. 

“As you can see, the Jacket is a real article. Thank you,” he says to a worker, who tightens a straight jacket around him. “You may take your seat. Now. I will have one minute to escape certain death. Let's see if I can do it.”

The curtain falls over the stage, showing only a silhouette of Jay. He seems to be struggling quite a bit with the jacket, which adds to the rising tension in the air. 

“I don't think he's gonna make it,” Dean says.

“I don’t think I care.”

Sam lightly smacks Chase on the shoulder as she laughs quietly behind her hand. 

Seconds pass, the one minute already half over. The crowd watches with bated breath as the minute timer finally stops and Jay is no longer struggling with the jacket, giving the impression he’d failed. Suddenly, Jay pushes aside the curtain, unharmed.

“Oh!” Dean exclaims. “That was amazing! That was fucking amazing!”

“Thought it was all crap,” Chase teases. 

“That was...not humanly possible,” Sam says. 

The two older siblings cast him worried glances as he clenches his jaw, deep in thought. They jump slightly when Chase’s phone starts to ring.

“Is that Harley?” Dean asks worriedly. 

“Yes, now shut up.”

The two boys watch and listen to only one side of the phone call, their expressions growing more confused while Chase listens to Harley lowkey freaking out, horror reflecting in her eyes.

***

The most interesting thing happened during Harley’s post coital nap. A noose came behind Jeb Dexter while he was posing in the mirror and dragged him up to the ceiling fan. It was a quick death as the force of him being pulled up snapped his neck.

Harley stirred, but slept for another 5 minutes before waking up to find Jeb’s body dangling from the ceiling fan. She immediately calls Chase, “Hey, so um we got a problem.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Chase’s mind goes to a hundred different possibilities, all of them worse than the last. “Are you okay?”

“I am, but um Jeb’s not so lucky. He’s kind of dead.”

“What?” Chase exclaims. Harley can hear Dean and Sam in the background, before a loud “Ow,” presumably from Dean.

“Yeah, he’s hanging from a noose in his hotel room. I don’t really know what to do.”

“Um. Uh, okay, well, does anyone know you’re there?”

“No, but my fingerprints are all over the body.”

“Um, right. That’s an issue. Maybe we should skip town and let the boys deal with the rest of this. How are you going to get away with this? First of all, they’ll question you. While doing that, they’ll realize you aren’t FBI-”

“Questioning her for what?” Harley can hear Sam ask.

“Guys, shut up!” Chase snaps.

“I mean do they have my fingerprints in the database if I’m legally dead?”

“Oh, yeah, that. Sweet, okay, so please - You’re dressed, right?” “I can be.”

“Okay, yeah. Do that, then get your lucky ass down here asap, so that we can fucking not get charged for murder please.”

“Okay see you in a bit.”

***

“What was that about?” Dean demands. 

“Um, yeah, Jeb’s dead. But it’s fine!”

“How is that fine?” Sam asks.

“Because Harley is legally dead so she won’t get charged for murder!”

“How does that make Jeb being dead, “fine”?” Sam asks.

“I’m trying to be positive!”

“Not a good look on you,” Dean says.

“Oh shut up, you pile of horse manure.”

“Let’s just get back to the hotel room. I just shot Harley a text. She’s going to meet us there.”

“Okay,” Chase says, ignoring Dean who is still looking at her indignantly for calling him horse shit.

***

“So, I’m never having a one night stand again,” Harley announces as she enters the room.

Dean goes to say something, which Chase assumes is going to be something stupid and hypocritical, so she stops him by smacking her hand on the back of his head. He pouts, turning to glare at her, but she just looks back at Harley, completely unbothered.

“This has to be something to do with Jay, right?” Sam asks. 

“Probably. The tarot card of the ten swords found on the guy with ten stab wounds, right after Jay does the table of death,” Chase says.

“Yeah, and now the executioner ends with Jeb hanged,” Dean continues. 

“Whatever this is, we have to stop it soon, before we end up dead. Wait, have any of you bothered checking yourselves for tarot cards? I’ve done it several times since Harley called me.”

“Only one I have on me is the one I pulled from Jeb’s pocket.” Harley sighs.

“Well, let’s start with some research on Jay.”

“Sounds good,” Chase says, after smacking Dean once more after he went to make a snide comment to Harley. 

***

“So, it turns out Jay was a pretty big deal in the seventies,” Sam says.

“Which in magician land means what exactly?” Dean asks.

“Big enough to play at radio city music hall.”

“What got him stuck in their "where are they now?" File?”

“Looks to me like the only thing is that he got old,” Chase says. “Okay, so maybe incredible Jay is using real magic to stage a comeback,” Harley says.

“It’s possible,” Sam says. 

“Could be some kind of spell that works as a death transference?”

“How does the tarot card mix into it?” Dean asks.

“Well, it looks like that’s how he chooses his targets. If they have a tarot card on them, they’ll be the ones to die when the spell takes place,” Chase says.

“Man,” Dean says, “hope I die before I get old. Whole thing seems brutal, don't it?”

“You’re not allowed to die young, Dean,” Chase says. 

“Already have.”

“Do you think we will?” Sam asks. 

“Will what?” Dean asks. Harley and Chase roll their eyes at his idiocy. 

“Die before we get old.”

“Like Dean just said, technically you both already have,” Harley points out. 

“You know what I mean. I mean, do you think we'll still be chasing demons when we're 60?”

“I mean, what else is there to do? Crocheting?” Chase laughs. 

“Yeah, I don’t see myself settling down,” Harley adds. “And what is better than chasing demons?”

“No, I think we'll be dead,” Dean says,“for good. What? You want to end up like -- Like Travis? Huh?Or Gordon, maybe?”

“There’s Bobby,” Chase says. 

“Oh, yeah, there's a poster child for growing old gracefully.”

“Maybe we’ll be different,” Sam says. 

"What kind of Kool-Aid you drinking, man? Sammy, it ends bloody or sad. That's just the life,” Dean says. 

“And if we could win somehow?” Chase offers. 

“Win?” Harley asks. 

“If there was a way we could just...put an end to all of it,” Chase explains. 

“Is there something you two ain’t telling me?” Dean asks. 

“No, just curious, I guess.”

“No,” Sam says.

“Sammy.”

“Look, I'm just saying...I just wish there was a way we could...go after the source. That's all. Cut the head off the snake.”

“Well, the problem with the snake is that it has a thousand heads. Evil bitches just keep piling out of the Volkswagen.”

“Guess you’re right.”

“How about we split up. I’ll see if I can find anything on these tarot cards that confirms Chase’s theory. You find Jay. Chase, you wanna go with me or do you, Harley?” Dean asks, looking hopefully at the latter.

“I’ll go with you,” Chase offers, hoping to spare Harley any unnecessary comments from her brother.

Dean shoots Chase a look before sighing. “Okay, that settles it. Let’s go.”

***

“Why did you sleep with Jeb?” Sam asks, “You never have one night stands.”

“To get back at Dean,” Harley says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“For?”

“Being a hypocrite.”

“You slept with someone out of spite?”

“Yep,” Harley says before adding, “I don’t want to win.”

“Why? We can have normal lives.”

“In case you haven’t noticed I’m not exactly normal. A normal life doesn’t suit me. I need action, excitement, adventure.”

“You could act.”

“I’d rather hunt.”

“People die hunting.”

“People die without it.”

“I guess, but we do need to stop the apocalypse.”

“Yeah, don’t need a toilet paper shortage on our hands.”

***

Dean and Chase stare at the body.

“Told you,” Chase says simply.

“Okay. Okay, you were right. It’s likely transference magic and this pathetic douche didn’t kill himself.”

“Dean, can you shut up for one moment?”

“No.”

Chase groans. “This is why Harley and you fight! Because you don’t have the fucking balls on you to make her yours, but then you go and be an ass to her when she shows interest in other guys!”

“I wouldn’t have been happy had you slept with Mr. Guyliner either.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have reacted like a jealous boyfriend. Here’s the thing. You have got to stop being so overprotective of her. She has shown time and time again she can handle herself.”

“But she shouldn’t have to,” Dean argues.

Chase rolls her eyes. “Just fucking date her already.”

“I don’t like her like that!”

“Bullshit.”

Chase and Dean quickly exit the hotel room, to go meet back with Sam and Harley. 

“It’s not bullshit. It’s the truth.”

“Okay, fine,” Chase says, stopping and turning to Dean.

“I want you to imagine something for me.”

“I’m scared.”

“Shut up, Dean! Just do it.”

“Fine!”

“Imagine Harley dating someone. Some guy. Let’s say he’s tall, dark hair, guyliner, Harley’s alt dream boy. Now imagine them together. They’ll kiss, hold hands, whatever the hell else. He’s her boyfriend so he probably won’t like how touchy you are with her. So you’ll have to stay hand’s off. They’ll get married, sleep together, grow old together. Now, don’t have to tell me, but think for a moment how you’d feel watching that from afar. Because I’m pretty sure you feel a bit differently about that situation than if it were me and my boyfriend. That difference is called loving someone versus being in love with them. You’d be happy for me, but you’d be angry, pouty, and jealous if it were her. Just in case you needed an eye opener.”

Chase continues to walk on, ignoring Dean, who is staring after her with wide eyes, a pained look of discomfort on his features before he hurriedly rushes after her, deep in thought.

 ***

Harley and Sam arrive in the lobby first, they wait a few minutes before Chase and Dean walk through the lobby doors.

“Hey,” Sam greets.

“Hey, Chase,” Harley says.

“Hey, Harley!”

“Maid found Jeb hanging from the ceiling fan. Police think it was a suicide,” Dean says.

“Who was right? That’s right. Me,” Chase says.

“About what? The death transference?” Harley asks.

“Yep!”

“Okay, good, that’s a lead.”

“Any connection between the victims?” Sam questions.

“Jeb was a total douche bag to Jay,” Dean offers.

“What about Vance?” Harley asks.

“Apparently, Vance was heckling Jay at the bar the day he was killed,” Chase answers.

“Okay, so Jay sneaks a card into Vance's pocket, does the table of death…” Sam says.

“And Vance takes 10 swords to the chest,” Dean adds.

“Then Jay slips a noose and Jeb doesn't. Hell of a trick.”

“Hell of a way to wake up,” Harley pouts.

 Dean grimaces, as though unhappy about the reminder of the situation. “Yeah, I think it's time we had a little chat with Jay. Any luck tailing him?”

“He slipped us,” Sam says quietly.

“He slipped you? Both of you?” Chase asks in disbelief. “He’s 60.”

“He’s a magician,” Sam says in defense. 

***

Winchesters and Co. follow Jay up to his hotel room, guns drawn. After Jay enters his room, Dean kicks down the door. 

“Up against the wall!” Dean yells.

“God, who are you? What do you want?” Jay asks, panicking.

“Now!”

“We know what you've been up to,” Sam adds.

“You been working some real bad mojo to jump-Start your act,” Dean states.

“Mojo? Really?” Chase shakes her head at Dean, before re-aiming her gun at Jay. 

“What? I don't know what you're talking about.” Jay says frantically.

“Look, we know you put a spell on those tarot cards,” Harley says, rolling her eyes.

“Messing with real magic?” Dean asks.

“"Real magic"? Come on, there's no such thing as real magic,” Jay insists.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, believe me. I've been around this stuff my whole life. It's all just --It's -- It's illusions. It's tricks. It -- It's all fake.”

“Jeb hanging from his ceiling fan too? ‘Cause that looked pretty real,” Harley says.

“What? Something happened to Jeb?”

“Got hung right after you slipped the noose.”

They tie Jay up, and watch him carefully for a few minutes, before they finally start wondering what’s up. 

“I swear, I don’t know what you guys are talking about. Just let me go!”

“Something’s not right,” Dean finally speaks up.

“Usually they’re whipping some bad hoodoo at us by now,” Sam agrees.

Chase gives her younger brother a look. “Seriously? Dean making those comments is expected. But you?”

“What do you want to do?” Sam asks Chase. “Or is the only thing you’re good for making comments about us?”

“Wow, rude.” 

Sam shrugs. 

“What do we want to do?” Dean reiterates. 

“Well, if it’s not him, who is it?” Harley asks. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “What, want revenge for lover-boy or something?”

“Dean, we are literally here for this job. Can you shut the fuck up for once?” Chase groans.

“Yes, Dean, I totally want revenge for someone I’ve known less than a day. That makes total sense,” Harley snarks.

Dean opens his mouth to make another comment, but Sam interrupts, shooting him a pointed look. 

“Even if Jay's not working the magic, he's still getting the reward. His shows are selling out,” Sam says. “All right. So, then, whoever it is, they're obviously in Jay's corner,” Chase points out.

Dean, as though suddenly remembering to be professional (and less of a dick) carries on with the case. “All right, so we got Vernon and Charlie on the list. Anyone else?”

“Not that we know of,” Harley sighs.

“Uh, well, we could just… I don’t know. Ask him?” Chase says.

“Or not,” Harley says, noting that the chair is empty.

The other three hunters turn to see an empty chair. 

“Are you fucking with me right now? God dammit, mother Mary!”

Harley laughs a little at Chase’s wording.

“Guess we should have seen that one coming,” Dean sighs. 

“He couldn’t have gotten that far,” Sam reasons. 

“Let’s go look for him,” Harley says. 

They all nod and leave the room to search for the missing magician, unbeknownst to them that he had been hiding in the closet the whole time. 

***

Jay had called the cops on the hunters and they came face to face with each other in the lobby. The gang got arrested and thrown in holding cells. Dean and Harley together while Chase and Sam were beside them (the latter two who are listening in on the former, without their knowledge or consent).

“Why?” Dean asks.

“Why what?” Harley says shooting him a cautious and confused glare.

“Why’d you sleep with him?”

“Why do you care? We’re not together.”

“I know, but if you get a boyfriend or girlfriend our whole dynamic will change. No more late nights cuddling and watching Scooby-Doo. No more kissing or flirting.”

“Dean, you’ll always be my main man. Even if some other guy comes around.”

“Or girl?”

“Or girl, so do everyone a favor and stop being a hypocritical ass. We’ll still be flirty friends in our old age. Nothing is going to change that.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean says not buying it for a second, but letting the issue lie.

“I can’t believe you got that jealous over Jeb.” Harley laughs.

“I wasn’t jealous.”

“Totally were.”

“Was not.”

“Whatever, you’re no fun.”

“I’ll show you how much fun I can be.”

“No, Dean.”

“C’mon, you fuck some random magician, but not me!” Dean yells indignantly.

“Yeah well. Maybe it was the guyliner,” Harley huffs.

“I’m a better lay anyday.”

“I don’t know Dean, it was kinda the best sex of my life.”

***

Sam and Chase turn to each other, and as silently as they can (which isn’t very silent because both Dean and Harley hear them), fangirl about the couple-to-be. They literally begin to wave their hands, screeching into their palms, jumping around. It’s kind of embarrassing.

***

“Jay. Thanks for dropping the charges,” Sam says.

“Yeah, it’s nice to not be in a cell anymore,” Chase nods.

“Yeah, especially when locked with him,” Harley jokes, motioning towards Dean, who just laughs and shakes his head at her. 

“You mind telling us why you did it?” Dean asks, turning to Jay, suspicious of him. 

“We have to talk,” Jay says.

***

“I was just a kid when we first met. All I knew was how to cheat at cards. Charlie got me out of more scrapes than I can count. Hell, I would have been dead by the age of 20 if it hadn't been for him,” Jay sighs, “He was more than my friend. He was my brother.”

“I'm sorry, Jay.” Sam offers.

“Look, I should have listened to you guys when you told me that my show was killing people.”

“Thank you,” Harley says, not exactly tactfully.

“Well, you weren't the one pulling the trigger,” Dean adds, trying to cover up Harley’s previous comment.

“Yeah, but someone did, and I want to find out who did this to Charlie, so I'll do whatever you guys say. Just tell me what to do.” Jay says.

“Jay, whoever's doing this...They like you. They're probably close to you. Did Charlie and Vernon get along?” Chase asks, trying to be careful, but also not wanting to miss any leads for the sake of sparing his feelings.

“No. No, it's not Vernon.”

“He's the only one that makes sense,” Harley comments.

“Charlie and Vernon were your family, Jay,” Sam states, his voice understanding.

“And now Charlie's gone,” Dean adds.

“Yeah, but...they butted heads sometimes, but Vernon could never do something like this,” Jay says, denial evident in his voice.

“You sure about that?” Harley asks.

“See, the thing about real magic is it's a whole lot like crack. People do surprising things once they get a taste of it,” Dean adds.

“You better be damn sure about this. Vernon's all I got left,” Jays states.

***

The four hunters enter Vernon’s hotel room after Jay had called him away.

“Wow. It's like a...magic museum,” Sam says, almost in awe.

“You must be in heaven. This guy doesn't travel light,” Dean jokes.

“He’s been on the road forever, Dean, this is probably all of his stuff.” Harley laughs.

“Let’s get started,” Chase comments, as she’s the least distracted.

They all look around the room, determined to find anything to help them with their current lead. Finally, Chase stops, sighing. “This is useless. There’s nothing here!”

“This is just a bunch of old-Timey magic stuff --None of it magic,” Dean says after a few minutes of looking through Vernon’s stuff.

“No herbs, no candles, and no tarot cards,” Sam agrees.

“I'll be damned!” Dean exclaims.

“What?” Chase asks.

Dean holds up a vintage poster with a young Charlie on it; the only problem is Charlie shouldn’t have been born yet (from the looks of the poster, it’s older, as though from a circus advertisement). “Look like anyone we know?”

***

The four hunters rush to the stage room, minds reeling. They get there in time to hear a young Charlie offer his two friends immortality. 

“Not so fast!” Dean exclaims, climbing up the stage steps, followed by the others. “I ain't Guttenberg, and this ain't "Cocoon."” 

“Immortality. That's a neat trick,” Chase says, standing in front of Charlie. 

Charlie smiles at her. “It’s not a trick.” A noose drops from the ceiling, looping around Chase’s throat and pulling her up. “It’s magic.”

Just before Dean could try to help her, Charlie places a hand on his shoulder. Dean suddenly turns to Harley and raises his gun. 

“Um, Dean, what the fuck. Bad guy that way,” Harley exclaims, pointing at Charlie. He simply smirks at her, shooting. She ducks, narrowly escaping the bullet.

Sam shoots Charlie, and he catches the bullet in his teeth. “Bullet catch,” Charlie smiles. “Been working on that.”

“Get him!” Chase yells out, keeping a hand in between the rope and her neck, breathing shallowly. “Can someone just fucking gank him already?”

Sam is pushed onto a table, bloody swords dangling above him, ready to drop at any second. Charlie watches it all with a smile.

“Dean, what the fuck!” Harley exclaims again, trying to help, but not being able to do much other than avoid Dean’s bullets.

Suddenly, Charlie gasps, looking down at his stomach, where blood is blossoming across his shirt. He looks to Jay, who has a pack of tarot cards in his hand, the other hand wrapped around a knife he had plunged into himself.

“Jay… You chose these strangers over me?” Charlie asks. Jay only looks at him sadly, as though holding back tears. Charlie collapses to the ground, the tarot card that killed him in hand. 

The rope snaps, dropping Chase to the ground unceremoniously. The straps holding Sam to the table break, allowing him to be free. Dean, having stopped shooting at Harley, looks around with confused eyes, having missed the past few minutes’ events. 

“You okay?” Sam asks Chase, while Dean and Harley check up on each other. 

Chase, gasping a little for air still, nods. “Yeah. I’m good.”

***

The four hunters, having packed up, and gotten ready to leave, stop to say goodbye to Jay. 

“Hey, Jay,” Dean says, walking into the bar. “We just wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday.”

“I killed my best friend yesterday, and you want to thank me?” Jay asks in grieving disbelief. 

“Where’s Vernon?” Sam asks, unsure of how to respond to Jay’s statement. 

“Oh, he’s gone. He said he didn't want to speak to me again after what I did to Charlie.”

“You know, Jay. Charlie was never going to give up what he was doing. You did the right thing,” Harley says. 

“Are you sure about that? You know, Charlie was like my brother. And now he's dead... because I did "the right thing." He offered me a gift, and I just threw it back in his face. So now I have to spend the rest of my life old and alone. What's so right about that?” Jay stands from his table and leaves, the card deck he’d been shuffling discarded on the table. 

“Jay, your cards,” A bartender says. 

“Throw them away.”

Before Jay exits fully, Chase stops him. “I really am sorry. If I had to do that, I don’t know what I’d do. So, I’m sorry.” Jay nods to her, exiting the bar.

Dean sighs. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I could go for a beer.”

“I’m going to take a walk,” Sam says. 

“Do you want any company?” Chase asks.

“No, I’m good. Just want to think.”

“Okay.”

After Sam departs, the three other sit down at a table and order drinks; Dean, beer, Chase, whiskey, and Harley, a Shirley Temple.

“Dean, what’s that on your eyes?” Chase asks suddenly, seeing dark circles under his eyes. Dean rubs at his eyes, shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

“Dean, did- Did you try putting eyeliner on?” Chase asks. 

Harley’s head snaps up from her phone to look at Dean with wide eyes and a smile. “You know you could’ve asked for help? Wait… Where did you even get it?”

“Where you get eyeliner, duh,” Dean scoffs.

“Did you rummage through my stuff, Dean?” Chase asks.

“No.”

“Did you go through mine?” Harley asks.

Dean avoids direct eye contact. “Maybe.”

“Dean! What did I tell you about going through people’s things?” Chase demands. 

“Not to do it.”

“And what did you do?”

“Okay, I went through Harley’s stuff and got eyeliner and tried putting it on but it looked bad, and I couldn’t figure out how to take it off.”

“Did you take anything else?” Chase sighs.

Once again, he avoids eye contact with both girls. “Noooo.”

“For fuck’s sake, Dean,” Harley sighs.

Chase smiles, but soon, it turns into full on laughter at the thought of Dean putting on eyeliner. Harley joins her and Dean sits there, pouting and fighting a smile.

Sam wanders in during this and sits down, leans over to Dean, asking, “What’s so funny?”

This only makes the girls laugh harder.

“Don’t worry, Dean. I’ll teach you how to put it on.”

***

Harley and Dean are in the girls’ bathroom.

“Okay, so you want to pull down your lower lid, then you can apply eyeliner to your waterline,” Harley explains.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Dean groans.

“It’s your fault for putting it on wrong. Now you gotta learn how to put it on right.”

“I really don’t need to learn, the eyeliner was a moment of weakness.”

“And if you have another moment of weakness you’ll need to know how to do it right,” Harley laughs.

“How happy will this make you?”

“Extremely.”

“Fine… What’s a waterline?”

“It’s like the very edge of your lower lid.”

“Wait is it supposed to touch your eye?” Dean asks.

“Yes, Dean, you put it in your eyes,” Harley snarks.

“Okay, I get it. That was a dumb question.”

Harley hands Dean the eyeliner brush; he pulls down his lower lid and hesitantly applies the eyeliner creme before doing the same a little more confidently to the other eye.

“Good job! Now comes the hard part. Less scary, but harder,” Harley jokes, “I want you to try your very best to stay close to your lash line while applying to your upper lid.”

“Can you say that again? This time in english.”

“Put the eyeliner directly above your eyelashes on your upper eyelid.”

“Why couldn’t you have just said that?”

“I did.”

Dean scoffs, but nonetheless does what he’s told.

“Good, now the easiest bit,” Harley smiles.

“There’s more!?” Dean exclaims, shocked and somewhat disappointed.

“Honey, you’re only halfway done. Now close your eyes and smudge the living daylights out of that eyeliner.”

“Can’t I be done?” Dean sighs.

“Depends, do you want to look hot or do you want to look sexy?” Harley smirks.

“Sexy.”

“Then smudge the damn eyeliner.”

“Fine,” Dean smudges the damn eyeliner before opening his eyes, “I look ridiculous.”

“Look at me,” Harley demands. She inspects his eyeliner making sure none of it is on his nose and wiping off the parts that are a bit to close, “Perfect. Last step; wash the eyeliner off your fingers.”

Naturally he ignores this and wipes it on his jeans. Harley rolls her eyes, but smiles. He can't help but grin seeing her reaction.

[strawberry-skies-xx]

forget the bottle

C H A P T E R    O N E

summary: Jaskier has always felt things on a deeper level than most, and more often, and he has gone through life this way. He has coping mechanisms, of course - drinking, talking, singing, etc. He can't be overwhelmed by his emotions all the time, after all.

After the mountain, Jaskier's coping mechanism is drinking. Turns out, there's something in it, and Nilfgaard knows exactly how to break the songbird.

words: 17097

tags: geralt / jaskier, yennefer, PTSD, post-s1e6, s1e6 fix-it, a fix-it of sorts, pyschological trauma, psychological torture, magical fuckery, mind manipulation, aftermath of psychological torture, emotional/psychological abuse, torture, nilfgaard, captured by nilfgaard, fringilla, fluff and angst, protective yennefer, yennefer ships it, idiots in love, love confessions, happy ending, solitary confinement

author’s note: alright, so here is the zillionth captured-by-nilfgaard fic in this fandom. and, yes, whenever i mention valdo marx + jaskier hate-fucking, i am passive-aggressively yelling at the fandom for not having more of it. it has massive potential, but i don't write smut. (aka, please link me to any amazing top/dom valdo and bottom/sub jaskier hate-fucking, i love it)

scheduled tuesday and thursday posting.

main masterlist | story on ao3 | next chapter >>

-0-0-0-

Jaskier felt too much.

He’d always felt too much. He spent his younger years raging at his parents, raging at the world, though he didn’t know what he was raging at, only that he wanted to get away, be free.

And when he was old enough, he went to Oxenfurt and learned - learned academics, learned the arts, and he flashed through emotions quicker than he did love. The world was new, the world was bright and big and bold and Jaskier wanted nothing more than to carve himself a place in it.

And he did. He went to an inn in Posada and met a white-haired Witcher, and he learned some more. Learned of the darker emotions - not just anger, but revenge, and not just sadness, but despair, oppression. The world was new, still, the world wasn’t quite bright anymore but it was big and bold and Jaskier still wanted to carve himself a place in it, by way of one grumpy, golden-eyed, white-haired Witcher.

So Jaskier went through the world, and he felt. He felt pain lance through him, sharp as any blade - pain of heartbreak, pain of rejection, pain of actual physical wounds. He felt happiness, like warm honey falling gently over him - contentment when he sat by the fire with Geralt and sang into the shadows, joy when he roused an entire tavern into singing and stamping with him and he danced between them all, singing his heart out to the world.

He also felt love, in a more permanent sense than he’d ever felt it. Love was…. a peculiar sensation for him. He fell into love hard, and fast, and deep - both literally and metaphorically; Jaskier did enjoy the finer things in life, and he wasn’t above flirting and taking everyone he met to bed, sometimes at the same time. He adored people, like soft warmth rising in him. Lust was sharp and primal, carnal in its intensity, and Jaskier sharpened it into something intricate, turned it into pretty words and meaningful looks and determined intent.

And he loved, loved with his whole being, loved with his entire heart. Jaskier gave a piece of his heart to everyone he met, and sometimes he took it back after a fleeting infatuation, sometimes it stayed with them and he yearned. Valdo Marx was one of those people - he had loved him as he did anyone, had ended up hating him, but Valdo was not a fleeting love. Jaskier still loved him, even if it was only for their sharp back-and-forths and the truly mind-blowing hate sex they had occasionally - Valdo knew him better than anyone, except for Geralt.

Geralt was different. For Jaskier, love shot through him like a lightning bolt - or, Cupid’s arrow. Sometimes it went out the other end and left, sometimes it stuck and bled and scarred. With Geralt, it had shot through him like any other person, except it had stuck, it hadn’t bled, and it hadn’t scarred. Jaskier loved Geralt, and he was never so selfless that he never wanted more of him despite having what he already did, but if he was truly forced to choose, Jaskier would have been perfectly content with the life he led with the Witcher, would have suffered through the pain of pining after him if he got to stay.

Jaskier hadn’t chosen, though. Geralt had chosen for him, and he had decided that he didn’t need him, didn’t want him, and Jaskier had granted him his oh so desired blessing, and left.

Heartbreak felt like needles, stabbing him, over and over and over, in multiple places, and when he thought it was done, he’d see something and he’d be pricked again, it would draw blood.

Jaskier had grown very good at coping with his feelings - he couldn’t go through life being overwhelmed by all of his emotions. He did this in all manners of ways - writing songs and singing them, putting on the optimistic act to simultaneously let out emotions while hiding others, and talking, constantly. One of his better - or, well, quite unhealthy but very effective - coping mechanisms was drinking, which was what he was currently using on the heartbreak needling at him.

He stared into the tankard of ale, which tasted more like piss than actual ale, and sighed. Even the damn ale reminded him of Geralt.

Maybe the Cupid’s arrow for Geralt had started bleeding. Jaskier wasn’t sure if it would scar.

He groaned and dumped coins on the table, ignoring the flirtatious looks some women were giving him. He would have accepted it at any other time, would have lost himself in pleasure, but he felt slightly dizzy and he wanted nothing more than to find someplace to sleep, without practically selling his body for it. He didn’t have enough coin for a room, so he’d have to sleep out in the woods. Which, dammit, was just like he used to do with Geralt. Minus the Witchery protection now, of course.

Jaskier’s head was thoroughly spinning by the time he got out of the inn, and he knew something was wrong. He was drugged, he knew what it felt like to be drugged, having been enough times that Geralt actually berated him for having to rescue him. He ran through in his head what drug it could be, landed distantly on the salty taste of the ale, and cursed under his breath. Or, maybe it was a curse. Jaskier’s head was too fuzzy to figure out whether it came out as an actual word or as incoherent noises.

He saw shadows out of the corner of his eye - black, large, vaguely terrifying considering the way he stumbled and couldn’t think straight. He was caught by two strong arms, Geralt flashing quickly through his mind before a voice that was decidedly not Geralt whispered in his ear, smooth and cruel.

“Hey, little songbird,” not-Geralt said. “We’ve been looking for you.”

“Fuck off,” Jaskier replied. Or didn’t. He didn’t know, his head was spinning and he felt a headache pounding and his limbs were growing slow and heavy, and the darkness dragged him down all too easily.

-0-0-0-

Jaskier woke up cold, and shivering, and very, very confused. He was laying on his side on a stone floor, feeling like he had been dunked in ice water - which, maybe he had, because his hair was dripping wet still and plastered to his face. His hands were behind his back, and at an experimental tug, they were tied together too. He wore nothing but his pants, and his bare shoulder pressed against the cold stone.

Jaskier cursed, both from his situation which had rapidly come back to him, and the very annoying strands of wet hair that had decided to plant themselves directly in his eye, and managed to roll himself onto his back with some effort. He lifted his head as much as he could and shook his hair out of his face, trying very hard to ignore the feeling of it plastered to his cheeks, his neck, just all over the place. He took the brief time to berate whoever had kidnapped him on hair care - honestly, did no one know how to dry hair? He liked to keep his hair soft and this was decidedly not the way to do it.

Of course, none of this was what he believed. He was ignoring the fear crawling up in him, feeling like spiders and making his skin itch, feeling like ice trickling down his spine and tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. If he focused on anything other than the fear, then he wouldn’t be overwhelmed. It couldn’t do anything.

Jaskier rolled himself back on his side in order not to crush his hands beneath him, and after a long, heated moment spent mentally berating whoever had kidnapped him, again, on the best positions for singing, he actually started singing. The lecture went on, still - every time his voice cracked very much not artfully, or every time he couldn’t pull in enough breath, he took a second to come up with some particularly creative insult in his head about calling him songbird and then prohibiting his ability to sing.

He ignored the feeling of spiders crawling over him and the feeling of ice trickling down his spine.

It was an undetermined amount of time, measured only by the fact that Jaskier got through eight songs verbally before he started shivering uncontrollably, and six songs mentally before the door opened and a woman in blue robes and two men in black Nilfgaardian armor strode in.

He gave a dry laugh, ignoring the spiders crawling and the ice trickling. “Nice of you to stop by,” he said. “You know, it’s a bit contradictory when you call me songbird and then put me in a position like this, which is very much not conducive to singing, let me tell you.”

The woman in blue robes smiled and walked forward. She reached behind him and tugged harshly on the ropes tying his arms, pulling him into a kneeling position, before yanking him up to stand. Jaskier met her dark eyes, sensed the crackling undercurrent of magic around her, and supposed that this was Nilfgaard’s mage. Or one of them, at least.

She held his gaze for a long moment, searching, before letting go. “Untie him,” she said, turning around and standing several paces back as the Nilfgaardian soldiers descended on him.

Jaskier stood still, finding his heart suddenly pounding and adrenaline racing through him. This was his chance - he could try to escape now.

The ropes dropped from his arms and he lashed out, landing a right hook in one of the soldier’s jaws and aiming for another in the other soldier, when the entire room popped and Jaskier found himself slammed into by a wave of magic. His back hit the stone wall hard, knocking the breath out of him, and he gasped, arching. The sorceress walked forward, cruel emptiness in her eyes, watching him like he was a bug pinned to a board. Which, he supposed he was.

He was always a bug pinned to a board, poked and prodded and seen as amusing by Geralt and Yennefer and now this damned mage. Gods, Jaskier hated being human.

“Don’t struggle,” she said, voice oddly serene. “It’ll only be worse for you.”

Jaskier scoffed, rolled his eyes and studiously ignored the fear threatening to overtake him. Sometimes feeling too much was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was a curse.

“Why? So I can become your puppet and you can do whatever you’d like to me? I’d be flattered you think of me that way, if this wasn’t a kidnapping,” he retorted sharply. The mage laughed, amused, and Jaskier tugged against his invisible bonds. Something in him wanted to cry at the fact that they didn’t even deem it necessary to tie him up, he was so weak and human.

The mage didn’t respond - not to his question, anyway. Instead, she raised two fingers to trace along his jaw. “It’s better to get this over with now,” she said.

Jaskier paled, felt the fear rising in him. “Get what over with? I’d rather you don’t-“

Her fingers landed on his forehead and his sentence ended with a scream. He arched against the invisible bonds, feeling the searing heat crawl into his mind, flood it with lava, with blood and pain and misery. She dissected his memories, sharply cleaving through every defense he had, and he felt the magic ripping through his body harshly, tearing through his mind.

Jaskier slid into the wooden seat, bread shifting uncomfortably in his waistband - but that wasn’t important. What was important was the lack of a review, the golden eyes staring flatly at him and the two long, sharp, menacing swords sitting beside the man.

“Come on, you must have some review for me. Three words or less.”

“No,” he gasped. “Don’t- please don’t-“

He screamed again as she ripped through another of his memories, feeling tears start in his eyes and the feeling of fear inch up his spine, waiting for the opportunity to get past his defenses and overtake him.

“How’s my singing, Geralt?” Jaskier asked loudly, because oh he wanted to have this conversation. He was quite heartbroken from the Countess de Stael’s rude break off of their relationship, and he thought spending a good long while defending his singing with a loud, unrestrained sarcasm he hadn’t been able to use since he entered the Countess’s court would make him feel better. There was something freeing about being with Geralt, not having to tiptoe around the darker and dirtier things in life.

Jaskier gasped through the pain, shaking against the wall, mouth now opening wordlessly as he arched and the mage tore into memory after memory, pulling everything he ever felt, thought, said, did, into full view, forcing white hair and golden eyes into the forefront of his mind. She learned he felt too much, she learned he loved too much, she learned of the frankly embarrassing number of times he hate-fucked Valdo Marx.

And she learned he loved Geralt with a love more permanent than anything he’d ever felt before.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

The agony ended with that line echoing in his head and he fell limp against the magic holding him to the wall, gasping for breath and still feeling the echoes of the searing pain ripping through his head.

The mage was entirely unconcerned, standing and waiting with a blank look on her face until Jaskier caught his breath and sent her a glare. He growled - which, of course made him think of Geralt. Damn the fucking Witcher who stole his heart. “Are you done? Learned anything useful?” he snarled, truly not giving a fuck about whether he angered her and made it worse.

She traced her fingers along his jaw again, sliding them beneath his chin and raising his head, lowering herself down to look him in the eyes. “Oh, songbird. We learned so much. I'm going to enjoy breaking you.”

Jaskier felt the fear rise up in him, felt his breaths start to come shorter and tears fill his eyes, and forcefully shoved it down. He couldn’t let his emotions overwhelm him.

“Why do you want me?” he asked, uselessly. He knew why they wanted him - and he knew he couldn’t give them the answers they wanted. Geralt had discarded him.

The mage released his chin and stood up, not responding. Jaskier watched as she stepped back, flicked her fingers, and suddenly Jaskier fell hard to the floor. He gasped when the cold shocked through him, and the mage walked to the door with the soldiers. She turned back at him when he raised his head to look at her.

“The Witcher has something we want,” she replied, and turned and left. The door slammed loudly behind her and the soldiers.

Jaskier was left alone in the darkness, and the sudden drain of adrenaline from the mage ripping through his mind left him exhausted. He resisted the urge to cry; he kept up the dying hope that Geralt would save him, or he would escape, because they were the only things keeping back the flood of fear, and he knew if the fear and emotions overtook him then he would break.

For now, he curled up on the cold floor and let his eyes close, succumbing to the deep exhaustion and letting sleep take him.

-0-0-0-

The mage introduced herself as Fringilla, and the next time she came in there were the same two soldiers with her. Jaskier had searched his cell when he woke up feeling marginally better, though still freezing cold, and found nothing - it was pitch dark, so he couldn’t see, but he had felt every inch with his hands and there was absolutely nothing that would help him escape. He could barely find the door in the darkness.

The bright light blinded him and he covered his eyes as Fringilla and the soldiers walked in. He glared at them, backed away when the soldiers came up to him. They reached out and Jaskier laughed harshly, ducking out from under their arms. “Nope, no, I am not letting you touch me.”

Fringilla sighed impatiently as Jaskier kept dodging the soldiers, who did nothing more than walk steadily after him in the small space. He hated this, hated that he was trapped and couldn’t do anything other than run three feet from the soldiers and make himself look weak by prolonging it. They still hadn’t deemed him a threat enough to tie him up, for fuck’s sake.

Jaskier would have enjoyed taking apart that delusion, if he wasn’t freezing cold, half-naked, outnumbered, and with no weapon to speak of. He uselessly avoided the soldiers for several more minutes, until even he was growing bored of the game, and the only thing that Fringilla needed to do was raise her hand before Jaskier was stopping, freezing like a deer in headlights, fear flashing through him. The soldiers took that opportunity and slammed him against the wall, hands pinning his arms and legs in place.

Jaskier wondered if the display of sheer power against him was intentional, deeming him too weak for chains or ropes, but Fringilla smiled in such a way that it was instantly confirmed and Jaskier bit back his noise of annoyance. It was truly insulting, and hit something deeper in Jaskier that was still fighting, that kept up hope. He figured that was the point - if they could restrain him so easily now, what was the point of fighting? It would only be worse.

“Love,” Fringilla said, and Jaskier felt his stomach drop and his body go cold. If Nilfgaard wanted to break him, they certainly knew how to do it.

“It’s a peculiar thing, isn’t it? So volatile. It’s the only thing us mages can’t predict,” Fringilla continued, voice low.

Jaskier glared at her. “Shame. Thought you mages were all-powerful,” he snarked. Fringilla only looked amused.

“However,” she continued, ignoring his comment, “we can use it to our advantage.” And, yeah, that’s definitely not good for Jaskier, who squirmed just at the thought of what they could do to him regarding Geralt - because that was the only person he truly loved, really.

She raised her fingers, intent in her dark eyes, and Jaskier barely had time to protest, fear shooting through him, before cool magic washed over him like ice water, and he sank into darkness.

He saw the light first - saw the mountains in the distance, felt the clothes covering his back. Heard Geralt and Yennefer arguing below, saw Borch sitting on the ledge - and oh, fuck, this was the dragon hunt, he realized with a jolt of panic.

“Like fuck you didn’t,” came Geralt’s irritated voice, and Jaskier’s heart hurt just hearing it. He stood up, or, well, he tried to. There was a magical force pulling him down, forcing him to stay in the body of the Jaskier in his memories, the one who sat on the rock, and walked over, and then walked away. He wanted to cry, again, because he knew how this turned out and he could already feel the heartbreak needling at his skin, the pain of rejection lancing through him. He remembered how his dreams shattered like glass, and he cut himself on the sharp edges of them as he walked away.

He stood up, walked over once Yennefer left. Spoke without wanting to, felt the insistent magic tugging at him. “Whew,” he said. “What a day. I imagine you’re probably-“

“Dammit, Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted sharply, whirling around to face him, and Jaskier felt the needles of heartbreak start pricking him, stabbing and drawing blood. He was stuck in his memory’s body, though, so he was forced to listen, feeling the tug of Fringilla’s magic on his voice, on his body.

Geralt’s eyes were hard, burning with anger as he continued. “Why is it, whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it’s you shoveling it?”

“Well, that’s not fair,” Jaskier replied, voice soft. It was just as painful the second time as it was the first, and back in the dark, cold cell, Jaskier was resisting the urge to cry. He didn’t want to relive this, it was too much for him to handle.

“The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it! ” Geralt’s voice was harsh, everything about him was harsher and sharper and Jaskier was cutting himself on it, he was practically bleeding out with the force of the heartbreak ripping through him. He sang so many songs about Geralt, about him not being a monster, and Jaskier fought against the negative things said about Geralt with everything he had, but some dark, selfish part of himself whispered that maybe Geralt really was the monster everyone thought he was. He was certainly acting the part right now, hurting Jaskier in the most efficient, effective way possible. Jaskier was wrong when he said Geralt didn’t know how to use the blade of his words as effectively as steel and silver.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!”

Sharp pain lanced through him and Jaskier woke up gasping, laying on the cold floor. The cell was dark; Fringilla and the soldiers were long gone. Jaskier was alone.

Jaskier shoved down the tears, shoved down the fear and heartbreak and emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Crying was not one of his coping mechanisms. Drinking was, talking was, singing was. Not crying, never crying. Jaskier would not show weakness.

Well, he couldn’t drink. He had two options. Singing or talking. There weren’t many songs to sing that weren’t about Geralt - and he had just been painfully reminded of how he felt about him, thank you very much. So he curled up in a weak defense against the cold, and in a quiet, cracking, whisper of a voice, started to talk.

-0-0-0-

Jaskier had fallen asleep in the middle of some sentence about geography, some passage he had memorized from a textbook when he was at Oxenfurt. He didn’t remember it now; didn’t need to. All he remembered now was the surge of fear as the cell door opened and Fringilla and two soldiers walked in. Jaskier looked up, too exhausted to think about physically fighting as they dragged him up from his position on the floor.

He did fight verbally, though, if only because talking to someone to fight off his emotions was better than talking to himself. “In the old stories, the knights swept the princesses off of their feet,” he said. The soldiers started pulling him towards the door - he had a vague hope of escaping, though he felt like shit because he was being starved and really had to piss. “Does that make me the princess?”

Fringilla gave her signature, idly amused smile, the one that reminded Jaskier just how much he was a bug pinned to a board and surrounded by immortals who didn’t care for him. “You’re a bard, and nothing more. The place we’re taking you is not from the old stories.”

Jaskier frowned. “Shame. Oh, speaking of being a bard, why do you even keep me here? You already rifled through my mind, you saw Geralt abandon me. You know I don’t know where he is, or what he has that you want.”

Fringilla didn’t look bothered. “You’re still useful. You know the Witcher better than anyone else, you can tell us where he would go next. His patterns of behavior, the way he thinks. The best way we can ambush him. Or, if not, you’re good for bait.”

Jaskier laughed, and the sound was harsh and mocking. “He won’t come for me,” he said bitterly. “You’re delusional if, after looking at that memory, you think he would come back for me. He doesn’t care whether I live or die.”

Fringilla smiled. “You’re right. He doesn’t care about you, and he won’t come back. Whether you help us find the Witcher or not, bard, you’re still ours.”

It came so easily, so certainly, that Jaskier deflated in the soldier’s arms, staring at Fringilla with a sort of blank horror. She had looked through his memories, had seen everything he’d seen, and she was able to say with such smooth certainty that Geralt wouldn’t come back for him, and he was Nilfgaard’s now. It hit the same part of him that it had when they had so easily restrained him, the deeper part of him that glowed gold with hope even as the rest of him withered and broke.

They stopped in front of a simple wooden door that Fringilla opened to reveal a room with a tub, toilet, and sink. Jaskier turned to the sorceress. “You’re giving me time to clean myself up?” he asked incredulously. “Doesn’t that go against, you know… everything about torture?”

Fringilla smiled again, but there was something darker in it. Jaskier resisted the urge to shiver at the dark promise hidden in her tone and smile. “You’re going to need it, bard. You won’t come back here for a long time.”

Jaskier felt the dread rise in him, like being touched by ice, and the fear. He nodded, staying quiet, and went into the room, flinching when the door slammed and locked behind him.

An hour later, the door was opened and the two soldiers came to get him, just as he finished using the bathroom. Jaskier sighed. “I’m guessing you won’t pamper me as much anymore?”

Fringilla smiled in the same dark way when the soldiers pulled Jaskier through the hallways. “No.”

They got closer, and Jaskier thought he was immune, he thought he was still strong, but he thought of the pure darkness of the cell and the cold air and the sheer loneliness, and started struggling when he saw the metal door at the end of the hallway. The fear was threatening to overtake him, his breaths came shorter and his voice rose an octave.

“Are you really sure you want to put me in there?” he asked, while pulling against the soldiers, who forcefully manhandled him down the hallway. His heart was picking up, and dammit he shouldn’t be this affected after two fucking days, but here he was. Nilfgaard had better torture tactics than they were given credit for - Jaskier had a bitter feeling that the reliving the hardest, most painful ten minutes of his life factored into the reason why he was so scared. “I’m sure there’s another option, something much less… well, dark and cold.”

“Will you answer our questions?” Fringilla asked.

“No,” Jaskier replied automatically. He wouldn’t give up that easily, no matter how terrifying the cell was.

Fringilla opened the door and the soldiers threw him in. He landed hard on the stone, still in only a pair of pants because that was all the clothes he was given in the bathroom, and he barely had time to watch the sliver of light be sliced away by the door slamming before he was left in pitch darkness, the cold air already seeping into him.

Jaskier sat up and leaned against the wall. He sighed, very firmly refusing the urge to cry, and stared into the darkness. He couldn’t even see the edges of the room, for fuck’s sake.

He let out a breath that definitely wasn’t at all shaky, tilted his head back against the wall, and started to sing - about everything and anything, because he couldn’t give a fuck about whether the songs were about Geralt if it meant he was distracted from the pain of knowing this was all he would see for gods knows how long. After all, it was just another emotion to add to the pile, wasn’t it? Nilfgaard wouldn’t care if he broke down - fuck, they wanted him to break down. Some dark part of him wondered if it would be easier to break down, stop fighting; it was only exhausting him anyway.

“When a humble bard, graced a ride along…”

[skyfields]

biography: kang yumi

it begins in the early winter of 1999, and kang sohyun screams in a delivery room. the baby screams louder (she carries that habit for the rest of her life). kang sohyun was not a flashy woman. she did not sugarcoat her words or say more than she ever needed to. so rather than talk about the impact it brought about to her children, she would be pleased to know her obituary simply stated her date of birth (june 8, 1964), her date of death (november 17, 1999), and her cause of death (died in childbirth). the mother doesn't have the breath to name the child, so the oldest sister, yura does-- and like a flame flickering to life, kang yumi enters the world.

yumi is six, and her oldest sister yura is twelve, and her middle sister yuna is eleven when they begin to save money to move to america. their father left after the death of their mother— they’ve been placed into the care of their paternal uncle, and they like it that way. their uncle ignores them, and they like it that way. they only have each other, and they like it that way.

their uncle is the same as them; abandoned by the same people, not really knowing what to do or where to go. he hardly tolerates them besides their pocket money he leaves on the table and the food he leaves in the fridge. he is never home; it is as if the kang siblings have a house all to themselves, because their uncle never uses it, preferring to snooze at bars instead.

yura plays baseball, and she plays it so well and with such a passion that yumi boasts her sister will be in the big leagues somewhere in america. she even learns english to prepare for it. yura is lean, strong, and besides their uncle, they depend on her the most. yuna, with her long, flowing hair and captivating eyes and moonlight skin, is the opposite. yuna always has boys on the doorstep, making the kang uncle cranky on the rare occasions he’s home and wakes up to them serenading his niece.

“unnie,” yumi says one day with a bowl of tofu soup on her lap. yuna is out with a boy, probably flirting him into buying her and her siblings dinner for that night. yura has taken up a job fixing their neighbor’s kitchen light and let yumi tag along to hand her tools as she needs them. “your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow,” yumi continues, “are we going to america then?”

“no,” yura responds with a grunt, “we’re going down the street.”

yura had decided that america was unrealistic; pulling her sixteen and twelve year-old sisters out of school just so she could follow her baseball dreams simply made no sense.

instead, yura buys out a building at the end of the road where their uncle’s home sits. it has two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen above a storefront. yumi takes one bedroom, yuna takes the other, and yura takes the sofa. their uncle becomes a neighbor; he also becomes kinder and more present without the stress of raising three children, and takes up a job under yura for the new store: kang sisters restaurant.

(it’s a little ridiculous, but it works.)

yura and yuna butt heads more than anyone yumi knows. one sister is personable and clever and the other is vain and haughty, and the kang household is always filled with yelling between the two sisters.

it always stops when yumi cries her loud, loud cry and yura and yuna hold her apologetically, despite throwing dirty glares at each other.

(they always make up later anyway and fall asleep with yumi held tight between them.)

the year is 2006. the day is june 12th. yuna is eighteen and serving a squid bowl to a customer when he looks her up and down lewdly and explains that he is a scout for wonder records and wouldn’t you be perfect for our upcoming girl group? yuna blushes prettily and smooths out her flour-covered apron and admits that yes, i’ve always thought i’ve been meant for something bigger.

the year is 2007. the day is august 5th. yuna debuts with a girl group called pandora at the age of nineteen, and yumi is right up there in the front row with an unsettled yura who’s proud of yuna anyway. seven-year-old yumi decides right then and there that even if it kills her, she’ll become an idol just like her big sister.

as the youngest of three, yumi always gets what she wants anyway, but it’s nothing to this extent. yura is hesitant to give her dance lessons (“isn’t one idol in our family enough?”) and even more hesitant to give her singing lessons (“kang yumi, don’t be ridiculous— you’re tone deaf!”). it’s only after yumi sheds tears, lies face-down on the floor for three hours straight, and threatens to call yuna who’s in the middle of her promotions, that yura finally relents and lets yumi learn to sing and dance. yuna’s stardom brings publicity to their restaurant anyway, and yura’s food is so good she supposes she’s alright with her other sister becoming an idol to attract more hungry customers.

yumi is hell-bent on debuting at nineteen, just like yuna, so she works harder and harder till she’s better than everyone in her class. even her terrible singing becomes something passable, and she makes sure to learn all sorts of languages so that she has something to boast when auditioning for the company.

it all comes to a halt when yura is killed at the age of twenty-six.

kang yura was not a flashy woman. she did not sugarcoat her words or say more than she ever needed to. so rather than talk about the impact it brought about to her sisters, she would be pleased to know her obituary simply stated her date of birth (march 18, 1987), her date of death (february 13, 2013), and her cause of death (fatally stabbed in a mugging gone wrong).

she’d been walking home after dropping yumi off to her audition for worldwide records, and yumi returned to an empty home. yura was found in the alleyway down the street the next morning. she was known among the community as the big sister everyone wanted, and her disappearance hit hard.

what started as a local attack goes national when it’s discovered that the woman is the sister of one of the nation’s top girl group members. yuna doesn’t even find out about her sister’s death until three days later; none of yumi’s calls could be patched through due to yuna’s strict promotion schedule, the kang uncle is away on a yuna-paid vacation in tahiti, and so yumi spends the first three days after yura’s death weeping alone.

when yuna arrives in their small restaurant (she has to push her way through mourners and media alike), she breaks down.

“i found out through the news,” wails her bell-like voice, her jewel-clad hands waving around her face in panic. “we were too busy promoting and i didn’t even know—”

she takes in a gasping breath before passing out onto the floor right then and there, and yumi has to drag her sister upstairs away from the cameras. they turn it into a sob story much later, and yumi wishes the headlines would be silent.

(even when she finds out later that she was accepted into worldwide, she barely registers any joy.)

yuna locks herself up in her room for the next three months, clearly under the same impression as yumi that their eldest sister was invincible. she gets kicked out of pandora in that time period for refusing to show up to any practices or shows. thirteen-year-old yumi just barely manages to keep her second-oldest (or now, her only) sister alive by forcing food into her mouth and making her swallow. and worldwide media— now that yuna’s lifeless and yura’s dead, yumi forces herself to practices for their company. their uncle runs the shop while yumi dances her heart out.

yuna emerges one day, emaciated and sallow.

the first thing she does is fix the light in their kitchen. It had broken only days after yura’s death.

yuna becomes more beautiful in her grief, her idol days long behind her. she rolls up her sleeves and ties back her hair and captains the shop, her face taking on a natural, surreal sort of loveliness in the determined lines that set in her jaw. yumi clings hard to yuna, expecting her to collapse in on herself. she never does, and yumi never understands how yuna changes from a vain, spoiled girl to a decisive, capable young woman. the older kang sister still receives double-takes when people realize that the flannel-clad girl serving their food is the same sundress-wearing idol who used to be splashed across the front pages of magazines. who yuna becomes after pandora is respectable enough that yumi’s name isn’t ruined for her own debut, and yumi is infinitely proud of her sister after that.

so slowly-- painstakingly slowly-- yumi starts piecing herself back together.

she still visits the now-married yuna in their restaurant, which has begun franchising under the name “three kang sisters restaurant” and is well on its way to becoming a multi-million dollar food chain. whenever yumi can, she spends the night in their two-bedroom apartment; yuna’s husband is kind enough to take the second bedroom on these nights to allow the sisters to cling to each other until far past the sunrise.

on the days she can’t be with her sister, she turns to her group instead; three days alone is three days more than she cares for. netizens comment on how she follows them around like a puppy, occasionally getting distracted by something pretty but always coming back to show her group members with an excited smile.

so it goes that yumi learns to heal. she builds up her name and image and separates it from yuna’s. she might still be piecing herself back together, and she might have gone through far too much for any seventeen year old, but she knows that she has a strong support network to turn to. and whether it takes years or even decades to fill the hole that one sister left behind, kang yumi has more to turn to, and she’s more than ready to go along for the ride.

[atmilliways]

You like AUs, right? Mash up Metalocalypse and That 70s Show, go! Mash up Metalocalypse and Friends, go! Mash up Metalocalypse and Frasier, go!

Oh jeebus, why?

… But yeah you’re right I do.

That Dethklok’s Show

You know what makes me mad is that I want to say Nathan and Charles are Eric and Donna, but Seth is unarguably Lori and that messes everything up.

Okay so Pickles = Eric, Seth = Lori, Calvert = Red but with hair, and Molly = Kitty except Seth is her favorite child too.

Skwisgaar = Kelso because he’s tall, pretty, and horny. Also, in this AU, he is drowning in brothers because Servetta can’t keep it in her panties.

Toki = Fez because he’s foreign, happy most of the time, sings and dances for the simple joy of it, and his room is decked out with toys and fun stuff.

Murderface = Hyde because of the righteous fa-RO baby, and also because he DOESN’T HAVE ANY PARENTS. He moves in with Pickles’ family and lives in the basement. (Pickles was hoping this would give Molly and Calvert another Target to rag on and give him a break. It didn’t work.)

Unlike Hyde, Murderface is not cool and doesn’t get any eventual Hyde/Jackie storyline. Instead, his relationship history goes more like Fez’s. Without the weird forced Fez/Jackie stuff at the end of the series, which really went downhill has soon as Donna dyed her hair blonde.

Charles = Buddy, the random rich kid who is canonically gay, only he’s a regular part of the group instead of a one-episode throwaway character.

I’m cool with Pickles/Charles, and that fits with Buddy coming on to Eric in the show. But I would eventually break them up and put Charles with…

Nathan = no one on the show, but he’s got a lot of Hyde’s qualities in terms of stoic, bad boy vibes. However, like Kelso, he is an Adorable Dumb (see “that’s doable” hat).

Rebecca Nightrod = Jackie, but she’s not a necessarily a regular character. Murderface fawns/lusts over her like Fez, even though she’s a bitch. Nathan hates her, even though he does date her briefly in a relationship that she holds onto tenaciously until, in an act of desperation that absolutely horrifies Pickles, he cheats on her with Seth.

Abigail = Donna, because she’s smart and has good hair. (Zero bleach kits in sight.)

Rockso = Bob, because he’s a cue ball on top and makes liberal use of crazy wigs. Bargain Rockso’s is that store that’s always open on holidays — just in case you’re driving home Christmas night, realize you forgot to get a gift, and rush in to buy a fridge to solve the gift problem and/or some cocaine to forget there was ever a problem in the first place.

Magnus = Leo. He gives Murderface a job at his hilariously unprofitable Photo Hut business, declines to sell his real cool car to Skwisgaar on principal, and generally supplies the gang with all their weed and assorted drugs.

Dory McLean = Midge. She’s young, dumb, has big boobs, and Abigail is exasperated as hell that she doesn’t understand feminism in the slightest.

Knubbler = Mitch, the weird kid who hangs around and is sometimes kinda entertaining but keeps hitting on Abigail, which annoys her. However, he’s also stupid and accidentally self-sabotages (see setting his sleeve on fire while trying to flirt), so she doesn’t really waste energy on slapping him back down.

Pickles “burning down the shed” = Eric telling Red “I do it too” when Hyde gets busted for possession. Either way Abigail (Donna) is standing in the background going, “For the love of god, DON’T.”

Trindle = Cousin Penny, only instead of prankish Pickles (Eric) she targets Nathan, who during her last visit when they were much younger helped Pickles trap her in a revolving door. Abigail is completely secure in her looks compared to Trindle and actually talks Rebecca out of a potentially disastrous sunlamp tan.

Nathan and Abigail go out for like, a second, while Nathan and Charles are I one of their off-again fazes.

Endgame parings are Nathan/Charles, Abigail/Rebecca, and Skwisgaar/Toki.

B.A.N.D.M.A.T.E.S

Nathan = Ross. Can you picture Nathan doing the *long sigh, ex wife is a lesbian blues* “Hi” thing? Because I can.

Abigail = Carol. They got together but it just didn’t work out in the long run. 

Rebecca Nightrod = Susan. Tbh, I think the reason she keeps popping up is because of how @little-murmaider portrayed her in Stay Alive. She and Nathan get along like a house on fire, in that it’s a disaster and Abigail keeps having to turn the hose on them to stop the bickering.

Toki = Monica, although his chef skills are mostly confined to providing fruit and burning plastic. He’s still got the overshadowed younger sibling thing going on though.

Molly = Judy Geller. Dotes on Nathan.

Oscar = Jack Geller. Is amiably odd.

Charles = Rachel. Except not as ditzy. But he does break an engagement off at the altar and moves in with Toki, an old acquaintance he hasn’t seen since high school and one of the few people he, ah, did not invite to the wedding. For the record, he was hoping that wouldn’t come up.

Skwisgaar = Joey. Except when they all go to London, Toki (Monica) does hook up with him, gradually teaches him how to relationship, and eventually they get married.

Murderface = Chandler. He hates his data processing job and keeps threatening to leave it to work on his side project, Planet Piss, but never actually does because the money is really good. When he goes back to the pet store to return the baby chick Skwisgaar impulse bought, he instead adopts an ugly-ass duck that no one wants because it’s original owners thought it was just an ugly duckling that would grow up into a swan. He feels that he can empathize with it, and names it Dick van Duck.

Knubbler = Dick van Duck. Listens patiently to all of Murderface’s Planet Piss ideas.

Pickles = Phoebe. He doesn’t even know who his dad is, and is proud that he doesn’t. (I’m not going to lie, Phoebe’s family situation definitely fits more with Murderface, but Phoebe’s dating track record is too good.) Remember the one where Pickles broke up with someone he’d just moved in with because the person shot a bottle of liquor?

Seth = Ursula. 100% Ursula. Seth is a “career driven” waiter and also a part time porn star on the side, using Pickles’ name.

Fraiser 

I don’t watch this one as much, so this one won’t be as detailed probably.

Skwisgaar = Frasier. Idk, because he goes on dates with a different woman at least every episode. Also, he’s a jackass, but good at what he does and there are some redeeming glimmers of not being a complete asshole that make his presence worthwhile.

Nathan = Niles. Minus most of the neuroses. Instead of successful musicians, he and Skwisgaar are both successful psychiatrists, although Skwisgaar usually gets the bulk of the public’s, ahem, attention.

Daphne = Charles. He’s oblivious to Nathan’s crush on him for ages, but when he realizes it’s there and thinks about how sweet Nathan’s always been to him, he falls hard.

Rebecca Nightrod = Maris. She and Nathan have a rocky marriage, and eventually a rockier divorce in which she accuses Nathan of being emotionally unfaithful because of Charles.

Abigail = The brilliant divorce lawyer that handles Nathan’s case, and briefly dates Charles. They seem like such a good fit on paper that they’re actually engaged for a bit, but they break it off amiably right before getting to the altar, and Nathan and Charles ride off into the sunset in an RV with “road warrior” vanity plates.

Toki = Roz. (I know, technically Roz’s promiscuousness would be more Skwisgaar, but Skwisgaar’s superiority complex fits better with Frasier.) Although competent and successful in his own right, he is not the on air talent. Unlike in Frasier, when Toki and Skwisgaar sleep together they actually become a couple instead of backing off and remaining good friends.

Rockso = That garbage man that Roz was head over heals with for a while… Rodger?He belongs in a garbage can. Anyway, after breaking up with Toki over the latter’s inability to get over his massive cocaine use, Toki goes to Skwisgaar for comfort, which leads to drinking which leads to sex. Toki flees the next morning and flies to Norway for the annual family reunion, only he hadn’t told anyone he’s broken up with Rockso. Skwisgaar, desperate to Talk Things Out and hopefully even Do That Again, follows and (cringingly, but of his own volition) answers to/pretends to be Rockso to help Toki save face in front of his critical family.

Murderface = Bulldog. He and Toki briefly have a thing, and he’s actually kind of sweet when you get right down to it, but things don’t work out. Masturbation photos are involved — don’t ask. Also, at one point Skwisgaar accidentally repeats a rumor that Murderface is going to get fired where Murderface can hear it, so

Murderface goes and yells at the station manager (then Knubbler) and quits. Then he’s unemployed for a while, and scrapes by delivering pizzas. I forget how that situation resolved itself in the show but it does.

Knubbler = Kenny the station manager. Weak willed. Weak chinned. Ineffectual. Good track record in his career, but mostly he’s just there.

Abigail = That domineering and extremely competent lady station manager that’s there for a while… Kate? Has a cat. But she does NOT get it on with Skwisgaar (Frasier) on his desk and accidentally bump the On Air button partway through. She has a very strict policy of not getting involved with anyone she works with, although naturally everyone tries.

That’s all I got.

Magnus = Martin. Because he’s a cranky old man. He and Nathan don’t get along and he resents having to live with Skwisgaar, but they all gamely trade barbed insults and leave it at that. Magnus is a retired cop who still works on old cold cases as a hobby, having vowed revenge on uncaptured murderers everywhere. He and Charles (Daphne) get along pretty well, and there is no stabbing of any kind.

Metal Masked Assassin = Cam Winston. At one point he blocks Skwisgaar and Toki in Skwisgaar’s SUV into a parking space with his own SUV, and only relents and backs out when Charles comes and calmly threatens him, because “that’s my bread and butter you’re blocking in.”

There, are you happy now?? I spent a ridiculous amount of time on this, asdf;lkj lol.

[pettybkang]

CANDY

Group: The Rose.  

Pairing: Y/N + Sammy.

Genre: College!AU sorta, soft romance. 

Word count: 5k+

Description:  “It’s going to be fun! Come on, you can’t spend your entire life going to all your gay clubs only!” Lola said, dragging Y/N by the hand. She wanted to say that yes, she could. Or yes, she would. Where else would she be able to dress however she wants, kiss whoever she wants and also not be grabbed by straight dudes who think women belong to them? But Lola has asked her nicely - she threatened her - and she said yes - had no other choice.

“Honestly… I have no idea why I let you drag me all the way here tonight,” Y/N said the moment they arrived at the club. It was packed and the line was almost too long for her to handle, but her friend - Lola - told her they were on the list. Lola apparently knows the owner of the club, they apparently lived in the same neighborhood as a kid and Y/N wants to yell that when you were born in North Dakota everyone pretty much assumes you lived in the same neighborhood, it doesn’t matter how big the state is. But they are in New York now and she doesn’t wanna sound like someone who lived her entire life in Detroit.

“It’s going to be fun! Come on, you can’t spend your entire life going to all your gay clubs only!” Lola said, dragging Y/N by the hand. She wanted to say that yes, she could. Or yes, she would. Where else would she be able to dress however she wants, kiss whoever she wants and also not be grabbed by straight dudes who think women belong to them? But Lola has asked her nicely - she threatened her - and she said yes - had no other choice.

Maybe the Department of Neurosurgery wasn’t the best place to make friends, Y/N thought, because the only friend she had was dragging her to the straight club two weeks before finals. She was supposed to be spending all of her free time at the labs, the library or bothering her professors with e-mails at 4am. But Lola knows how much of a procrastinator Y/N is and she also knows her friend likes to solve everything with a great shot of tequila.

Y/N had tried several different outfits for the night but ended up wearing black pants, a black and oversized cropped top and a leather jacket just in case. She had shoved her wallet and phone in her pockets and was wearing a pair of boots - unfortunately, Lola had taken her to one of those clubs where you can’t get in if you’re not wearing heels, so her boots had some. Y/N took a deep breath, reminded herself that it would be Lola’s birthday in a week and tried to put on a smile.

They did get in super fast, their names were on the list. Lola knew more people than Y/N expected, which made her wonder how many hours of sleep her friend has a night. It’s true that Neurosurgeons rarely sleep, but it’s also true that they don’t have a lot of friends… like Lola apparently has. They got in, greeted a lot of people, and managed to order themselves drinks.

The night started with a shot of tequila for Y/N, a shot of vodka with energy drink for Lola. 

“Let’s try again… Why am I here?” Sam complained for the hundredth time. They had been standing in line for a long while now, his other four friends looking super excited to be there while he just wanted to go home. Or cross the city and go to his usual cub. His usual gay club.

“Because you love us?” Devon said, making Sam roll his eyes. Maybe the Department of Music and Performing Arts wasn’t the best place to make friends, he thought. Even though it seemed like it in the first place.

“And everyone is here today, c’mon,” Fred said, pointing at two girls who walked by. One of them was obviously being dragged by the other and Sam instantly could relate. “I think they go to NYU too. I might have seen them around.”

“Just because you’ve seen a few girls around, doesn’t mean you know them. Do you know how many people study at NYU? A lot. A whole fucking lot,” Sam said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms one more time.

“You’re moody, we get it. I’ll buy you a shot of something expensive so you can feel better,” Devon squeezed Sam’s shoulder, giving him a smile. Sam pressed his lips together, obviously annoyed, and looked away. It was almost their turn to get in any way and she was already here, in his black pants, black boots, black shirt, and a grey coat. He might look like he belongs, but his subtle eyeliner was telling a different story.  

Sam took a deep breath and gave Devon a smile back, even if he was sure he still looked a bit annoyed. Devon’s birthday was the week before and there’s nothing Sam can do now but to celebrate it with his best friend.

They managed to get in early - Devon, Fred, and Gabriel knew everyone there apparently, making Sam surprised as they walked in and they greeted everyone. They walked straight - ha - to the bar, Devon buying Sam the expensive drink he had promised.

The night started with a mix of sparkling wine and red berries for Sam and beer for the rest of his friends.

The drinks that wouldn’t stop coming were actually turning this into a very fun night, Y/N would say. Unfortunately, she could still hear the horrible music that kept on playing, the loud sound of electro beats over electro beats that had no lyrics or make no sense. Each drop made her want to stab her years with the straw of the piña colada she had in hands.

“How can people even dance to this?” she asked Lola when she saw her friend was back with her drink.

“They don’t,” she said, pointing at the people downstairs. Lola had gotten them access to a VIP room. Apparently, people from North Dakota have strong bounds - Y/N would find out later that year that the owner of the club is Lola’s cousin. “That’s all they do… I don’t think people come to these clubs to dance.”

“Then what’s the point?!” Y/N settled her drink on a table just so she could raise her arms in disappointment. “Honestly, I don’t see why get dressed and go out if you can’t dance to the songs that are playing.”

“Y/N… Babe… My sweetest friend… The cleverest girl from the Department of Neurosurgery… So smart, so bright…”

“They come here to hook up, I get it,” Y/N cut Lola off, grabbing her drink and sipping from it again. She rolled her eyes and looked down, trying to move her hips to the song but obviously failing, feeling frustrated.

Sam had his back against a wall. The first wall he could find that let him watch the dance floor just in case and drink his drink in peace. His friends were nowhere to be seen, but one would stop by and talk to him every once in a while. Devon was already calling him Sammy so he was obviously drunk. 

He knew that as a student of music he shouldn’t be judging the songs playing or anything, but for him, it was always impossible to have fun if he can’t sing along to the song. And all these electro beats and remixes make it impossible for him to actually sing to anything that is playing.

The next thing he could do - besides getting shit faced drunk - is to flirt, but the crowd here makes it impossible for him to do it comfortably. Yeah, he could flirt with the girls only and hope he doesn’t end up with someone that is 1) homophobic and 2) expects him to be straight but he’s not sure how he can do that without having a one hour chat about life before hooking up here.

Not being straight enough - or at all even - for this place, he decided to just stick to his fancy drinks and his wall.

It was around 2am and Y/N was drunk. The girl is already loud but she’s even louder when she’s drunk. She had had a shot of tequila, two pinã coladas, and then another shot and she wanted to dance. The beats weren’t cutting it anymore and Lola was nowhere to be seen to stop here so she grabbed another drink - another piña colada - and went down the stairs, determined to grab the DJ by the sleeve and have an hour talk about the perks of playing some pop music.

On her way downstairs, she passed a few couples that were enjoying themselves against the walls. She did look for Lola but didn’t find her at all. Her friend had mentioned something about the dance floor and some guy, but she didn’t pay much attention. While she made her way through the crowd, Y/N thought about the songs she could ask the DJ for. Mi Gente, maybe? Too much. Lady Gaga’s You and I? Too gay. Ariana Grande’s Side to Side? Too old. Camila Cabello’s Havana would have to do.

She was in the middle of the dance floor when she spotted Lola dancing with a guy, she waved for a moment and Lola waved back, telling her to come over. Y/N wanted to say she was going to the DJ, but her friend didn’t understand her. When she got close enough, Lola introduced her to the guy.

“Y/N! This is Devon! He also studies at NYU!” Lola had a smile on her face Y/N hadn’t seen in ages. In Med School they would say people smile that much when they find a good surgeon to marry - maybe not in Med School, maybe just her crazy neurosurgeon classmates.

“Really? What practice?” Y/N asked, assuming he was also going to Med School. She was sure all her friends also studied some type of Medicine Practice at NYU. Her Facebook feed would always flood with Medicine news and jokes and memes and everything, really. But apparently, the boy had no idea what she was talking about since his face was super confused.

“He doesn’t go to Med School!” Lola interrupted when she noticed the silence, smiling at Y/N who just nodded. “Music, right?” she said, looking at Devon. It was Y/N’s turn to make a very confused face. What the hell was a music major doing at a straight club listening to electro music? Well. It wasn’t her place to judge… but… well.

“Yeah. Music Education actually,” he said, sipping his beer. Y/N nodded, sipping from her drink.

“Well, I’m gonna let you guys do whatever you wanna do… I’m gonna go to the DJ and beg him to play Havana,” she finished her sentence the moment a guy squeezed Devon’s shoulder. He was about to say something, but apparently, he heard what Y/N had said and frowned.

“Hey! Do you mean Camila’s Havana?” he said, a bit louder so the girl who was now walking away could hear. Y/N turned around, also frowning. She looked at the guy - blondish hair, black everything, fancy drink in hand.

She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her face, making her bite the corner of her lips. “Yeah. Who else's? I need a pop song before the night is over otherwise I’ll die,” she said, shrugging.

“Shit, holy fuck, yes,” he said, making both Devon and Lola laugh.

“This is Sammy, my best friend…” he introduced him to both Lola and Y/N. “Sammy, these are Lola and Y/N. They also go to NYU,” Y/N waved, Lola, smiled.

“Awesome! Which Art do you girls study?” Y/N laughed at the mistake she had made earlier, shaking her head. Maybe her blue hair didn’t help him, or Lola’s piercings, or their tattoos, but it was still funny.

“Med School,” Devon said, making Sam shrug and laugh.

“I was on my way to free us from these beats and beg the DJ for a pop song. Wanna join?” Y/N said, raising her drink to take another sip. Sam thought about it for a moment, he had walked over to Devon to let him know he was about to leave but now things had gotten a tiny bit more fun.

“Sure! I can’t wait to sing along and destroy my voice tonight,” he said, laughing and giving her a smile.

Y/N laughed back, shook her head and took his hand, placing it on her shoulder so he wouldn’t lose her in the crowd. “That’s the spirit!”

It didn’t work as well as they had planned.

It actually didn’t work at all.

They couldn’t find a way to the DJ booth, they couldn’t yell loud enough, they couldn’t even show the DJ the song they wanted. They tried talking to the security to let them go up, but it didn’t work. They tried making a scene so the DJ noticed them, but it didn’t work.

When they were about to give up, a spark of hope, Sam had the idea to write what they wanted on his phone and show it to the DJ. Y/N did the honors since this was a straight club, but the DJ pouted, looked down at them and said “I’m sorry, it’s an electro night. I can play the remix though.” Y/N made a face, Sam pouted and they both left defeated towards the bar.

He leaned his back against the bar while she ordered a bottle of water. “I can’t believe we’re going through this. I think my head is about to explode,” giving the barman a smile the moment she got her water. She opened the bottle, took a sip and offered it to Sam without thinking twice. “Honestly…” she continued. “They were having a 00’s night at this club I usually go to. But I let Lola drag me here because it’s her birthday next week… I could be yelling and dancing to Toxic right now, but no.”

Sam was drinking the water while he heard the girl complaining. He knew the club she was talking about. Bittersweet. Right across town. As LGBT friendly as it can be. A lot of theme nights and tonight the theme was MTV 00’s. His childhood friend - Jeff - was going to be there, he had invited Sam but he had already promised Devon he would come.

“Bittersweet, right?” he said, just to confirm if she was talking about the same club he had been thinking about. The surprised look on her face confirmed it.

“Yes!” she pretty much yelled.

“The best place in New York!” they said at the same time, laughing.

Y/N wasn’t expecting Sam to understand. She thought he wanted a pop song because he was a Music student and apparently there are some that like good music, no offense to people who enjoy electro sounds or whatever… But offense. But Bittersweet is an underground club in New York that people from the LGBT community go to have fun.

Rumour has it the club is owned by a couple of two bisexuals, that’s where the name comes from. Y/N has identified with the club since the first time she stepped there and has never once wanted to go somewhere else - she has spent countless drunk nights there with Lola and some of her Med friends.

“We should go,” Sam said, giving Y/N a smile. She noticed the eyeliner now that they were close and he noticed the glitter on her cheeks too. How the hell did they imagine they were talking about different singers or clubs before is beyond them. Y/N laughed, nodded and gave him a smile back.

“Yeah, we should. I think they’re having a tequila night next week, right?” she bit on the corner of her lower lip. She would drag Lola down to Bittersweet on tequila night as revenge.

“Oh… I mean right now,” Sam said, making Y/N frown for a moment. She was about to say Lola would be mad when Sam opened his mouth to continue. “I know, our friends are here. But I promise Devon is a good guy and you can leave Lola with him,” Y/N made a face at that. She couldn’t just leave Lola behind. But at the same time Panic! At the Disco was waiting for her on the other side of town.

“I’m gonna talk to Lola…” She said, biting on her lower lip. “But you pay for the cab!” she yelled as she walked towards the dance floor.

“I’m a music student! We’re going by train!” Sam yelled back, making Y/N laugh.

The moment Y/N got closer to Lola, she was still dancing with Devon. She squeezed her friend’s shoulder and got closer so she could talk to her. “Sam and I-” she started, but was cut off by her friend.

“Yeah, just go!” she said, sounding super excited.

“What?”

“Is he taking you home? You guys look great together!” she said, making Y/N more confused than before. She looked at Devon then, still dancing, giving them space to talk. Maybe he wasn’t that bad.

“Yeah, sorta. He wants to go somewhere else,” Y/N said, biting on her lower lip.

“Just go! I’m gonna be fine. I’m friends with the owner,” Lola winked, making Y/N frown and laugh. That sentence would make sense three days from now.

“Okay, call me if you need anything! My phone is with me always!” Y/N said and Lola was already turning her around and pushing her away.

“Go have fun!” she yelled, making Y/N roll her eyes and laugh, walking back towards Sam.

They did go by train. 

It took them around forty minutes.

It was pretty awkward at first, two strangers sitting side by side in a train in New York. Y/N wanted to point out that his eyeliner was great and Sam wanted to point out that her jacket was awesome, but both kept quiet. Until Sam decided to break the quiet.

“I hope they play Paramore tonight… Or haven’t played it yet,” he said, making Y/N smile.

“Oh, don’t worry. They’ll play it again if I ask,” she winked at him, leaving a question mark on stamped on his forehead. She laughed, shaking her head a bit. “I’m friends with the DJ. I mean, one of them. She usually plays around three so if we hurry we can get there in time to ask for whatever song we want,” she smiled and then added. “You might as well know her. Violet, short hair. Used to be long and green purple blue, you choose.”

“She dates a guy named Jeff?” Sam leaned his head to the side a little, while Y/N nodded, confirming it. “She’s my best friend’s girlfriend. I mean, my childhood friend. I have a lot of friends,” Sam said, making Y/N laugh one more time. “I know Jeff. He’s the reason I know they’re throwing this party tonight, he asked me to go but I told him I had promised Devon.”

“Well, good thing you didn’t promise Devon you would stay till the end, right?” Y/N added, making Sam laugh softly now. “What else should we ask for, you know, just to be sure. Panic! At the Disco?”

“For sure. I Write Sins?”

“Always. Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamn doors?”

 The walk to the club wasn’t long - it was pretty close to the station - and by now both Y/N and Sam couldn’t shut up. Two drunk young people roaming the streets of New York looking for a better time than an annoying club that only played electro music. 

They talked about college, friendships and moving to New York. Sam’s family is from LA, Y/N’s family is from Detroit. Most of their friends aren’t from the Big Apple either. Both would always think it’s funny how none of them are from the big city, but they still refer to it as their home.

Voices could be heard when they turned left on the street of Bittersweet, making both of them smile. They hadn’t talked sexuality yet, but both would be surprised to find out that they are both bi. And moving to New York, being on their own for, making new friends and being part of a community helped them a lot more than they thought. Both are out and open about it, but it’s obviously not something you start a conversation towards a club with.

The security guard - Elias - greeted them with a smile, giving a squeeze on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you guys knew each other!” he said, laughing softly. “I always see you two here on different weekends,” the guy made them laugh for a moment.

“We actually just met. At Fantasy,” Y/N said, making a face. Elias frowned for a second, a few people around them also did.

“What the hell were you two doing there?” he laughed, shaking his head as he let them in.

“Long story, Eli! We’ll see you later!” Sam said, giving him another smile.

Y/N rushed in as fast as possible, going down the stairs that led to the club. She stopped for a moment to look back, just to see that Sam was right behind her, giving her another one of his big smiles. She was slowly starting to enjoy having those to herself.

King for a Day by Pierce The Veil was playing and both were sure Violet was still on the DJ booth. Everyone was screaming the song as it played and both Y/N and Sam followed, rushing into the dance floor. They got exactly what they wanted, beats to move their hips to, lyrics to scream and a lot of people that could understand the feeling of good music. Or at least their definition of good music.

As soon as the song was over, Y/N squeezed her way to the DJ booth, giving Violet a huge smile.

“Hey!” she waved, catching her friend’s attention, who waved right back at her.

“What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were out with Lola today,” she said, making a very confused face.

“Long story!” Y/N waved it off and as soon as she was done speaking, Sam showed up, giving Violet a smile. “Here’s the long story!” Y/N added. At first, Violet didn’t get it, frowned a little. She had never seen Y/N and Sam together, but she knows both of them. And then it finally made sense.

“Did you play Panic already? Or Paramore?” Sam asked, making Violet laugh and nod. He then pouted for a moment until the DJ was smiling. “What about I Write Sins and Misery Business?” he asked, making Y/N push him away a little.

“It’s Violet we’re talking to, lemme do it,” she said, shushing him them. “But It’s Better If You Do and crushcrushcrush?”

“Deal,” the DJ said, making both clap. “I’ve got around five songs left. I’m gonna make the two the end of the set, alright?”

Y/N gave her two thumbs up and Sam cheered.

And then the playlist followed: Blink 182, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Paramore, and Panic! At the Disco.

Both Y/N and Sam had more fun in those few minutes than they had had during the three hours they had spent at the other club. Screaming the lyrics to all of the songs, moving their bodies to the beat and laughing at each other.

Only then, right after Violet’s set was over, they decided to order a drink.

“Hi, Aiden!” Y/N said, greeting the guy behind the bar counter. She waved at him who gave her a smile and a wave.

“Hey! Took you a while! I thought you weren’t coming tonight,” he said, moving to lean over the counter and press a kiss to her cheek. Aiden and Y/N have history, but history both of them would like to never talk about. It’s almost as if you dated your brother and then found out he’s your brother, but in this case, they’re not siblings, only very good friends.

“I wasn’t… But you know me, I can never miss this party,” she said, pulling Sam closer. “Also, he dragged me here. All the way from fantasy. By train,” she added while Sam waved, making Aiden laugh.

“You’re Jeff’s friend, right?” Sam nodded, introducing himself right after that. “I’ve seen you here before,” Aiden gave him a smile. “What can I get you? The usual, Y/N?”

“Yes!” Y/N’s usual consisted of pineapple juice, pomegranate syrup, vodka, and ice. It was cheap, didn’t taste cheap, would get you super drunk and you wouldn’t even notice.

Aiden looked at Sam then, waiting for him to order. “Oh, Sex On The Beach,” he said, giving Aiden a wide smile.

“Aw, how cute. Your drinks match,” Aiden added, making both of them laugh. He left to get the drinks ready, leaving them alone to talk again. Lady Gaga started playing and Y/N almost rushed Aiden to get their drinks ready faster because she couldn’t just miss Donatella, but she ended up just dancing the song right there, in front of the bar, Sam enjoying it more than he probably should.

When their drinks were ready, they left to look for Violet and Jeff.

Both the DJ and her boyfriend were dancing near the wall, close to the AC, drinks in hand, singing to Lady Gaga louder than they should. Jaehyeong - or Jeff - studies Foreign Language Education and will probably focus on teacher little kids when he’s done with college and Violet - besides being a great DJ by night - studies Sports Business by day, someone has to make the Patriots team great again and if no one is going to do it, she’s gonna do it herself.

Violet had mentioned to Jaehyeong - who she refused to call Jeff, who the hell immigrates from Korean and decides to call himself Jeff? She was not having it. She called him Je - Jae - for short that was it. Anyway, Violet had mentioned to Jae that she had seen Y/N and Sammy together and how weird it was to see them there at all. They had never thought about introducing their two loudest, most annoying, most energetic, unstoppable, always seem to know what they are doing but have no clue, friends. Yet life has made that decision for them.

The couple was discussion the odds - because they knew Lola and Devon had dragged them to a straight club of some sort that night for birthday celebrations - and got to the conclusion that maybe the loud souls were destined to meet. And yell all their way from the bar towards them - both Y/N and Sam are the types of people that you can hear them before you see them.

Even though the music was loud, Violet could steal hear Y/N describing her drink to Sam while he held her hand, guiding her through the crowd.

They let go when they reached their friends, Y/N moving to give Violet a hug and Sam to hug Jaehyeong.

“Okay, what’s the long story that got both of you here?” Violet said, making both Y/N and Sam laugh. Shakira was playing, letting everyone know that her hips don’t lie, while Sam introduced Y/N do Jaehyeong.

“Well, here’s the thing,” the girl started when the introductions were over. “Lola took me to Fantasy, I got drunk, she vanished. I was like super determined to change the song because who can stand electro for more than an hour, right? Anyway. I was going to the DJ both to ask for Havana and then I bumped into Lola and this guy, Devon,” when Y/N said the name, both Violet and Jae said a loud ah as if that also made a lot of sense and they have never thought about it. “She introduced us, I assumed he was a med student too, he wasn’t and I decided to leave because I wanted Havana to play… Then he showed up,” she said, pointing towards Sam.

“And we’ve been inseparable ever since,” he said, making Y/N both frown and laugh. “We did try to ask the DJ for Havana, but he said it would be impossible so we just moved to the bar and Y/N commented about Bittersweet. Turns out we both would rather be here than there so… Here we are,” he added then, smiling.

“Idiots,” Violet said, rolling her eyes. “But okay, I think now that everyone is here we should lose the little voice we have left, what do you think?”

“Speak for yourself, I totally lost mine during your set. As your boyfriend, it was my job to scream the loudest,” Jaehyeong said, making Violet roll her eyes at him and laugh, leaning in to give him a soft kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she said right before grabbing his wrist and pulling him to the dance floor. Sam and Y/N followed, both of them laughing their lungs out.

The thing with 00’s nights at Bittersweet is that people rarely have time to rest or talk or stop. It’s a great song after another after another. It’s someone’s favorite song right before someone else’s favorite song. The only bad thing about it is that it ends at 4am and people have to go home still drunk or already hangover 

They danced to Ke$ha, Shakira, Lady Gaga, Britney and Beyoncé, sang from 30 Seconds to Mars to The Script and Coldplay. Both Y/N and Sam cried during Yellow, spilling their drinks everyone but on each other or themselves. Violet sang to Breakeven with so emotion that people could imagine she had been through a break up recently - which was most definitely not the case. They all raised their middle fingers during P!nk’s So What. By 4am everyone was too drunk, too tired and their voices were all gone.

The group only left the club because the people that work there started to walk around, telling everyone they had to close. All four of them said their goodbyes to everyone they know - Elias and Aiden included - and headed to the metro station. There was one train they could get together and then it was Sam, Y/N and Violet to one side and Jaehyeong to the other.

With one look, Violet decided to sleep over at Jaehyeong’s that night.

They all sat down, too tired to speak even, all of them dying for a slice of cold pizza. Y/N hoped her roommate, Leo, hadn’t finished theirs. And Sam hoped his roommate, Dylan, had bought them one.

It wasn’t until Violet and Jeff had to leave that the talk died down, leaving Y/N and Sam side by side on the train again. They kept talking about the night, about the songs, about their lives until Y/N rested her head on Sam’s shoulder. The girl closed her eyes, still talking and answering his questions.

And she kept talking when he started to run his fingers through her hair, not as much to not mess it too much, but enough to let the girl know he was doing it. There was a quiet “mhm” coming from her who just kept answering, making more questions, telling drunk jokes even.

Sam moved them a little when they were close to her station, letting her know they would be there soon. She pouted but sat up straight - ha - again.

“Give me your phone, I want to give you my number,” she said, rubbing her eyelids with the palms of her hands. They exchanged numbers while both yawned because of how late it was, because of how tired it was, because of how drunk they were.

“Send me a text when you get home,” Y/N said with a soft smile. “And it better be a picture of your kitchen, so I know it’s you and that you’re home, not kidnapped by the mafia,” she said, eyebrow raised and all.

Sammy smiled, shaking his head a bit, laughing. “Will do, don’t worry.”

Then they heard it, the warning that they would reach her stop soon. Y/N pouted, Sam pouted. She smiled, he smiled. She leaned closer, he leaned closer. They kissed. And it was both soft and drunk, messy and fun, confused and lovely, fast and needed. Y/N almost missed her stop, Sam almost wanted her to

“Don’t forget my picture!” she said as she rushed outside, waving goodbye.

Maybe going to Fantasy hadn’t been the worst night ever.

 When Y/N got home she had a text from Sam.

“Hey, text me when you get home too. S”

She smiled at it, leaving her boot by the door. Leo insisted they didn’t wear their shoes inside since his family had done it their entire life and Y/N didn’t even like to wear shoes at home anyway, so she just agreed to it. The girl headed straight - ha - to the kitchen, fingers crossed she would still have some pizza.

And they did. Cheese pizza. With extra cheese.

She took a selfie biting the slice and sent it to Sam.

“I’m home! And I have pizza! Y/N”

Sam was still on his way home when he felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He decided to wait until he was inside his apartment to check who had sent him a text just in case. Leaving his shoes by the door and his coat on the hanger, Sam took his phone out of the pocket and laughed at the picture. Was it too early to make it his home screen image?

He moved to his kitchen then, found the pizza box and grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza. Sam copied her pose, sending her a picture.

“WE HAVE THE BEST ROOMMATE! S”

“Fuck yeah, we do. Score. Y/N” 

The reply came immediately after he had sent the picture.

They exchanged a few more texts until both were fed, showered and on their beds about to fall asleep. They had both agreed that going to that straight club wasn’t the worst idea they have ever had, but then made each other promise that they would never go back there ever in their lives. 

It didn’t take long for both of them to be asleep - Y/N did leave Sam’s last text on read. But the next morning they would keep on talking and on the next weekend, they would go out together again and maybe in the next month, they would be dating. There was only one thing they knew for sure: Bittersweet was the only club they would go from now on.

What did you think of CANDY? Let me know!

[an-aroace-olive]

my friends, i know present: my class, aka stupiditity central

funny stories from my class:

1. we once had a full blown argument over elsas hair color. 

2. we often watch spongebob at lunch

3. yesterday, this one kid in my class kept saying “uwu”

4. also yesterday, another kid got a drink then said “yall gotta get ur s.s.slurpees” and then another kid said “what kind of radioactive weed are YOU smoking?”

5. some of my friends and i were sitting together, and one kid was being annoying, so someone else poked him with her pencil, first kid overreacted, then another of my friends and i got a peice of paper, labeled it ‘stab counter’ and over the next 2 weeks or so, it got to like 40.

6. “s.s.slurpee” kid started singing this dumb song, that goes like ‘a-moose-ta-cha, a-moose-ta-cha, a-moose-ta-cha-cha,” ect. and my friend and i said “stop killing the moosees! where are they, in the basement? we must free them!” and this continued for... idk, started in like november, still going on.

7. we were outside at the end of the day, ‘radioactive weed’ kid said he was going to do a backflip off of the bench, i saw these stupid little pink-and-blue glittery shell sunglasses on the ground, told him to wear them, he did, procceded to do backflip off bench, completley straight face, glasses on, then calmy walked to a tree and climbed it.

8. we had a dance assingment where we had to do ‘hand dancing’, hard to explain sorry, anyway, one group is using The Duck Song for the music.

9. classmate brought cucumber slices in vinegar and called it a salad, that was last month, today she brought it again, sparked conversation over whether or not it IS a salad

10. we argued over whether you eat the top or bottom of the muffin first

11. my teacher was reading something and it said 70, and it surprised her so she said “seventy?! soixante dix?!” and a girl in my class said “soixante dix nuts”

12. teacher was talking to us about stealing each others hats, because this is a common thing in my class, we all do it, and we all find it funny. anyways, she said “i know that it can be a way of flirting..” and we all starting laughing and said to one kid in our class who commonly does it to someone else: “(kids name), you have a lot of explaining to do”

13. the other day my class was playing soccer and we were all making fun of the proffessinal players who seem to get hurt over the smallest things, like, someone would yell from across the field and then we would all fall down fake crying like we were in pain from the sound waves

14. the next day when we were playing soccer one of my classmates fell down pretending like he was dying and we all took a knee and pretended to cry and mourn his death as he dramtically said his “last words” while one of my friends was right next to him pretending to be trying to save him. everybody else from other classes were just shaking their heads at us 

thats all for now, will add more later! btw, if anyone of these stories include someone getting hurt, in trouble, or teased by other kids in our class, kids who got hurt are fine, and ‘teased’ kids thought everything said was funny. my class has this non-existent-but-still-kinda-existent agreement that anything we say to someone else is purely a joke. also i will not be using any names to protect their privacy

[analogscum]

HARD ROCK ZOMBIES (1985, d. Krishna Shah)

NOTE: I RECOMMEND WATCHING HARD ROCK ZOMBIES BEFORE READING THIS REVIEW IF YOU WANT TO AVOID SPOILERS!

Human ambition is a funny thing. It can lead to great triumphs, but also great tragedies. Without human ambition, we would not have rock n’ roll, the most vital of American art forms. On the other hand, human ambition also lead the Third Reich to exterminate more than six million Jews, Catholics, homosexuals, physically and mentally handicapped, and Romani people. How does this tie in to today’s film, Hard Rock Zombies? Well, for now, let’s just say that it is a testament to both sides of the coin of human ambition that the sickos who made Hard Rock Zombies said to themselves, we’re going to make Hard Rock Zombies…and then actually went out and made Hard Rock Zombies. I’m honestly not sure if I mean that as a compliment or not.

We open on two metalheads riding a T-Bird convertible down a winding desert road. Lo and behold, they stumble upon a buh-buh-buh-baaaaabe hitchhiking. What are they gonna do, NOT invite this bodacious blonde into their sweet ride? We now cut to a dwarf with an eyepatch and a troll dancing around with a guy holding a camera by a river. You read that right. The metalheads and the blonde pull up on the other side of the river, strip down to their skivvies, and do a little skinny dipping. Suddenly, she drowns each of them one by one! And also does something else, because the water turns blood red, but I have no idea what that could be. The camera guy takes pictures of this gristly scene, while the dwarf and the troll celebrate the carnage. They chop off one of the victims’ hands, blondie picks it up and sings “I wanna hold your hand.” Again, you read all of that right.

Cut to: our heroes, the band, whom the movie never bothers to name (seriously, this band has no name), rockin’ out before a sold out crowd. Right away, we’re confronted with the major problem of all of these 80s metal horror movies: these guys just do not sufficiently rock. I mean, they have a synth player, for cryin’ out loud! This was not too long after Van Halen risked losing their metal fanbase by adding synths to “Jump,” because synths were pop, and pop was for pussies. But seriously, these guys make Billy Joel sound like Napalm Death. Oh well, at least the crowd of roughly 12 people seems to be having a good time.

Backstage, the band strip down to their banana hammocks, and their manager, Ron, tells them that they have to have their photos taken with a bunch of groupies. None of the dudes in the band, especially the lead singer, Jesse, seem to want to do this. They’re incredibly ambivalent about potentially sleeping with these women. Which of course is par for the course for 80s metal bands. Most of Motley Crue’s autobiography, The Dirt, is about the dudes politely sipping Earl Grey tea and discussing Nietzsche. We soon get an idea as to why Jesse is not interested in all of these women who want to ride his mullet, and believe me, you’re not gonna like it.

As he’s escaping all of these annoying women who wanna show him their boobs, Jesse runs into Cassie. Now, the movie is not entirely clear on how old Cassie is supposed to be, but let’s just say she’s young. Like, teenage. Like, below the age of consent. She warns Jesse to stay out of the town of Grand Guignol (subtle), where the band is scheduled to play the next night. Jesse instantly falls in love with her, because this movie hates you, and we’re treated to white hot, sexually charged flirting such as this:

Jessie: You're neat.

Cassie: No, I'm not.

Jessie: Yeah, ya are.

Cassie: ...shakes head...

Jessie: Yeah, ya are.

Guys, it’s rare that I make a point of writing down dialogue in these movies that we talk about, but Hard Rock Zombies left me with no choice but to slam that pause button and record some of these lines, because holy macaroni, peep this screenwriting magic:

“I got it from a book. You know, a boooooooook?”

“You guys ready for the show? The loud show? Loud music show? Rock and roll?!?!”

“Oh bullshit, young stupid!”

“You suck, mister! I know it and everyone knows it!”

Eat your heart out, Aaron Sorkin!

So the band arrives in Grand Guignol, and wouldn’t you know it, they pick up the same hitchhiking blonde, who invites them to stay at her family’s mansion. The family is pretty normal, you’ve got blondie, the photographer, the dwarf, the troll, the groundskeeper who, um, is that a Swastika armband he’s wearing, and grandma and grandpa, who speak in thick German accents and we meet them while they’re in the bone zone and the dwarf and the troll are watching them. Oh, and by the way, they’re secretly Adolf Hitler and Eva Braun, and Eva Braun is a werewolf. I PROMISE THAT ALL OF THIS IS TRUE.

As it turns out, everyone in Grand Guignol is a backwards rube who thinks that rock n’ roll is the devil’s music that will lead to “physical sex” (again, actual quote). So they get super duper outraged when the band engages in some antics that wouldn’t be out of place in an episode of The Monkees. They skateboard around, do silly dances, and mug for the camera. The sheriff throws them in jail, the town council cancels their concert, and outlaw all rock n’ roll in general, leading to a scene where everyone throws their records and tapes in a pile and destroys them (again, subtle).

Meanwhile, Jesse and Cassie keep running into each other and falling deeper and deeper in love, and the movie keeps rubbing our faces in their obvious age difference, because apparently the overt Nazi imagery wasn’t cringeworthy enough. Just wait until we get to the song he writes about her, because you’ll have to go to jail once you hear it. They practice at the creepy mansion, and the family tries to electrocute them. That doesn’t work, so instead they murder the band members one by one overnight. The drummer is stabbed in a terrible homage to the Psycho shower scene, the keyboardist is felled by werewolf Eva Braun, I don’t remember what happens to the guitarist, I think he falls out of a window or something, and Jesse is crucified and disembowled with a weed hacker by the groundskeeper. This means Hitler is finally ready to turn California into the fourth reich…here we go…no turning back…complete with gas chambers. Which come into play later. THIS IS ALL FROM A REAL MOVIE THAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

Luckily, before he croaked, Jesse gave Cassie a tape he made of a bass lick that can raise the dead. Look, just roll with me here, ok? You’ve made it this far. So Cassie plays the tape at the band’s grave, and they rise from the dead, ready to get revenge on Hitler and Eva Braun and co. In zombie form, they all sport weird mime makeup that kinda looks like KISS in the early days before they figured out their image, and they walk around as if they’re doing a combination of the robot and the Macarena. These are both choices that the filmmakers made. So they pretty much instantly murderize the Hitler clan with no problems, but whoops, they don’t stay dead for long, because now they’re zombies too, and they’re attacking all the hicks in town, which makes THEM zombies. Now we’ve got Nazi zombies and redneck zombies running around, which is not an ideal situation to say the least, but for now, the band have to go play their big gig.

This is where we finally get to hear Jesse’s love ballad to Cassie in it’s entirety, and, well, here it is…

“I’m so in love, but you’re so young.” BARF BARF BARF BARF ETERNAL BARF. Anyway, see ya in jail, which is where I live now because of this song!

I’m really loathe to talk about the rest of the movie, because at this point, it takes a turn into goofy comedy, and just completely falls flat. Not that their satirical bits about the PMRC and anti-metal hysteria were all that biting, but at least they were trying to say something, whereas these Zucker brothers-lite groaners are just insufferable. There’s a gag about a girlfriend who’s so possessive of her boyfriend that she won’t let any other women get near his severed head after a zombie rips it off, which the filmmakers obviously thought was beyond hilarious, but is really torturous. Then there’s an even less funny gag where some Pointdexter is like, hey, since zombies are brainless, they must be, like, allergic to brains? So if we all walk around with these giant cardboard cutout heads, they’ll leave us alone? Huh? And of course it doesn’t work, and of course the zombies just eat everybody, and as he’s being devoured, the Pointdexter yells, “Don’t believe everything you read!” Ugggh, read this: you suck, movie.

OK, there is one running gag from this section that I liked: after the troll becomes a zombie, he just eats his own body until he’s a burping skull. I happened to think that was charming and great.

Eventually the townsfolk try to sacrifice Cassie to the zombies, because they read that if the undead feast upon a virgin, then they’ll rest for another hundred years. Whatever. So Cassie is totally about to be gang banged and devoured by zombie Hitler and his gang (wow, what a sentence), when luckily the band shows up, and lures them away by playing that resurrection riff that Jesse learned from a book (you know, a booooooook?!?!) And where do they lure them? Ugh, sorry…here goes…they lure them to the gas chambers, where they’re all gassed to death. You know, like in the Holocaust? I have nothing more to say.

The film ends, in perfect fashion, by spelling co-writer/director Krishna Shah’s name wrong in the credits. Fantastic.

When a movie looks particularly bad, I often like to say that it reminds me of a fake movie meant to play in the background of a real movie. Well, as it turns out, that’s the actual origin story of Hard Rock Zombies. Originally, the film was supposed to be 20 minutes long and featured as the movie the characters in another Krishna Shah production, American Drive-In, go to see. Apparently Shah decided at some point that he could double his profits by turning Hard Rock Zombies into its own feature film. This begs the question: is this where all the Nazi stuff was added? Because it’s easy to imagine characters in a movie occasionally checking in with the drive-in movie and seeing a bunch of rockers rising from the grave, but that Hitler subplot is just so bizarre and so incongruous that I can’t help but think it was tacked on.

Hard Rock Zombies is the craziest film I’ve seen in awhile. It approaches Demonwarp and Spookies levels of what the hell am I watching madness. You genuinely will not be able to predict where this movie is gonna go from scene to scene. However, the tacked on nature of that madness keeps you at arms length a bit, and eventually it just becomes tiresome once you realize it’s not going anywhere beyond mere shock value. I mean, this movie is nearly an hour and forty minutes, and ends with a scene in a goddamn GAS CHAMBER. So, by all means, show this one to your friends, just don’t blame me if they never talk to you again. You may be right, they may be crazy, but in the end, it’s still rock n’ roll to me.

[skyfields2]

biography: kang yumi

it begins in the early winter of 1999, and kang sohyun screams in a delivery room. the baby screams louder (she carries that habit for the rest of her life). kang sohyun was not a flashy woman. she did not sugarcoat her words or say more than she ever needed to. so rather than talk about the impact it brought about to her children, she would be pleased to know her obituary simply stated her date of birth (june 8, 1964), her date of death (november 17, 1999), and her cause of death (died in childbirth). the mother doesn't have the breath to name the child, so the oldest sister, yura does-- and like a flame flickering to life, kang yumi enters the world.

yumi is six, and her oldest sister yura is twelve, and her middle sister yuna is eleven when they begin to save money to move to america. their father left after the death of their mother— they’ve been placed into the care of their paternal uncle, and they like it that way. their uncle ignores them, and they like it that way. they only have each other, and they like it that way.

their uncle is the same as them; abandoned by the same people, not really knowing what to do or where to go. he hardly tolerates them besides their pocket money he leaves on the table and the food he leaves in the fridge. he is never home; it is as if the kang siblings have a house all to themselves, because their uncle never uses it, preferring to snooze at bars instead.

yura plays baseball, and she plays it so well and with such a passion that yumi boasts her sister will be in the big leagues somewhere in america. she even learns english to prepare for it. yura is lean, strong, and besides their uncle, they depend on her the most. yuna, with her long, flowing hair and captivating eyes and moonlight skin, is the opposite. yuna always has boys on the doorstep, making the kang uncle cranky on the rare occasions he’s home and wakes up to them serenading his niece. 

“unnie,” yumi says one day with a bowl of tofu soup on her lap. yuna is out with a boy, probably flirting him into buying her and her siblings dinner for that night. yura has taken up a job fixing their neighbor’s kitchen light and let yumi tag along to hand her tools as she needs them. “your eighteenth birthday is tomorrow,” yumi continues, “are we going to america then?” 

“no,” yura responds with a grunt, “we’re going down the street.” 

yura had decided that america was unrealistic; pulling her sixteen and twelve year-old sisters out of school just so she could follow her baseball dreams simply made no sense.

instead, yura buys out a building at the end of the road where their uncle’s home sits. it has two bedrooms, a living room, and a kitchen above a storefront. yumi takes one bedroom, yuna takes the other, and yura takes the sofa. their uncle becomes a neighbor; he also becomes kinder and more present without the stress of raising three children, and takes up a job under yura for the new store: kang sisters restaurant.

(it’s a little ridiculous, but it works.)

yura and yuna butt heads more than anyone yumi knows. one sister is personable and clever and the other is vain and haughty, and the kang household is always filled with yelling between the two sisters.

it always stops when yumi cries her loud, loud cry and yura and yuna hold her apologetically, despite throwing dirty glares at each other.

(they always make up later anyway and fall asleep with yumi held tight between them.)

the year is 2006. the day is june 12th. yuna is eighteen and serving a squid bowl to a customer when he looks her up and down lewdly and explains that he is a scout for wonder records and wouldn’t you be perfect for our upcoming girl group? yuna blushes prettily and smooths out her flour-covered apron and admits that yes, i’ve always thought i’ve been meant for something bigger.

the year is 2007. the day is august 5th. yuna debuts with a girl group called pandora at the age of nineteen, and yumi is right up there in the front row with an unsettled yura who’s proud of yuna anyway. seven-year-old yumi decides right then and there that even if it kills her, she’ll become an idol just like her big sister.

as the youngest of three, yumi always gets what she wants anyway, but it’s nothing to this extent. yura is hesitant to give her dance lessons (“isn’t one idol in our family enough?”) and even more hesitant to give her singing lessons (“kang yumi, don’t be ridiculous— you’re tone deaf!”). it’s only after yumi sheds tears, lies face-down on the floor for three hours straight, and threatens to call yuna who’s in the middle of her promotions, that yura finally relents and lets yumi learn to sing and dance. yuna’s stardom brings publicity to their restaurant anyway, and yura’s food is so good she supposes she’s alright with her other sister becoming an idol to attract more hungry customers.

yumi is hell-bent on debuting at nineteen, just like yuna, so she works harder and harder till she’s better than everyone in her class. even her terrible singing becomes something passable, and she makes sure to learn all sorts of languages so that she has something to boast when auditioning for the company.

it all comes to a halt when yura is killed at the age of twenty-six.

kang yura was not a flashy woman. she did not sugarcoat her words or say more than she ever needed to. so rather than talk about the impact it brought about to her sisters, she would be pleased to know her obituary simply stated her date of birth (march 18, 1987), her date of death (february 13, 2013), and her cause of death (fatally stabbed in a mugging gone wrong).

she’d been walking home after dropping yumi off to her audition for worldwide records, and yumi returned to an empty home. yura was found in the alleyway down the street the next morning. she was known among the community as the big sister everyone wanted, and her disappearance hit hard.

what started as a local attack goes national when it’s discovered that the woman is the sister of one of the nation’s top girl group members. yuna doesn’t even find out about her sister’s death until three days later; none of yumi’s calls could be patched through due to yuna’s strict promotion schedule, the kang uncle is away on a yuna-paid vacation in tahiti, and so yumi spends the first three days after yura’s death weeping alone.

when yuna arrives in their small restaurant (she has to push her way through mourners and media alike), she breaks down.

“i found out through the news,” wails her bell-like voice, her jewel-clad hands waving around her face in panic. “we were too busy promoting and i didn’t even know—”

she takes in a gasping breath before passing out onto the floor right then and there, and yumi has to drag her sister upstairs away from the cameras. they turn it into a sob story much later, and yumi wishes the headlines would be silent.

(even when she finds out later that she was accepted into worldwide, she barely registers any joy.)

yuna locks herself up in her room for the next three months, clearly under the same impression as yumi that their eldest sister was invincible. she gets kicked out of pandora in that time period for refusing to show up to any practices or shows. thirteen-year-old yumi just barely manages to keep her second-oldest (or now, her only) sister alive by forcing food into her mouth and making her swallow. and worldwide media— now that yuna’s lifeless and yura’s dead, yumi forces herself to practices for their company. their uncle runs the shop while yumi dances her heart out.

yuna emerges one day, emaciated and sallow. 

the first thing she does is fix the light in their kitchen. It had broken only days after yura’s death.

yuna becomes more beautiful in her grief, her idol days long behind her. she rolls up her sleeves and ties back her hair and captains the shop, her face taking on a natural, surreal sort of loveliness in the determined lines that set in her jaw. yumi clings hard to yuna, expecting her to collapse in on herself. she never does, and yumi never understands how yuna changes from a vain, spoiled girl to a decisive, capable young woman. the older kang sister still receives double-takes when people realize that the flannel-clad girl serving their food is the same sundress-wearing idol who used to be splashed across the front pages of magazines. who yuna becomes after pandora is respectable enough that yumi’s name isn’t ruined for her own debut, and yumi is infinitely proud of her sister after that.

so slowly-- painstakingly slowly-- yumi starts piecing herself back together.

she still visits the now-married yuna in their restaurant, which has begun franchising under the name “three kang sisters restaurant” and is well on its way to becoming a multi-million dollar food chain. whenever yumi can, she spends the night in their two-bedroom apartment; yuna’s husband is kind enough to take the second bedroom on these nights to allow the sisters to cling to each other until far past the sunrise.

on the days she can’t be with her sister, she turns to her group instead; three days alone is three days more than she cares for. netizens comment on how she follows them around like a puppy, occasionally getting distracted by something pretty but always coming back to show her group members with an excited smile.

so it goes that yumi learns to heal. she builds up her name and image and separates it from yuna’s. she might still be piecing herself back together, and she might have gone through far too much for any seventeen year old, but she knows that she has a strong support network to turn to. and whether it takes years or even decades to fill the hole that one sister left behind, kang yumi has more to turn to, and she’s more than ready to go along for the ride.

[gokailyger84]

Ninja Brian (in universe) collectively attempting over and over to confess his gay, gay crush but ends up becoming nervous and kills the nearest person around them.

Sometimes, I wonder how my brain works when it comes to filling these prompts

Danny frowned, tilting his head in confusion.  He watched as the hands of the figure before him, moved at lightening speed.  

So fast, Danny’s eyes could barely keep up.  The hands forming half-sentences and a lot of gibberish.  

Nin/ja Brian was acting strange.  

Still.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, Nin/ja Brian.”  Danny interrupted, holding up his hands.

He waited for his friend to calm down and lower his hands.  

Danny crossed his arms and tilted his hand.

“Now, what is it you’re trying to tell me?”

Nin/ja Brian took a deep breath and raised his hands.

“I’m just trying to say…what I mean to say is…that I, that I…I mean…We’ve know each other for so and you saved me…sometimes I…etrtfgyhujikl;xfcvgjkml-”

“GAAAH!!!”  A voice cried out.

Nin/ja Brian looked over to see his hand, suddenly holding a knife, plunged in the chest of a man.  Nin/ja Brian and Danny stared at the man who was looking down at his chest in shock.  

Several seconds passed, before Nin/ja Brian pulled the knife out and the man crumbled to the ground.  

Danny watched the entire scene with mild interest.  His eyes met Nin/ja Brian’s who blushed and vanished in a poof of smoke.  

Danny just shook his head, as he formed some quick hand signals, causing the body to vanish.  

This was starting to become an annoying trend that Danny couldn’t understand.  

For several weeks now, Nin/ja Brian had been trying to tell him something but couldn’t get it out.  Instead he’d either descend into gibberish or kill some random person.  

Sometimes, like just now, he’d do both and he’d become embarrassed and vanish.  

Danny wouldn’t see or hear from him for a couple of days before he’d return and they’d start the whole routine over.  

The first few times were amusing, but after weeks of this odd behavior, Danny was reaching his wits end.  

Sure, it was funny when Nin/ja Brian stabbed that clown, when they were walking through the park eating ice cream and when he stabbed that guy who just happened to be harassing that pretty girl at the dance club.  

But the waiter at the restaurant they went to and the guy laughing a little too loudly at the movies and those teens late night swimming, when they were sitting together at the beach.  

It was getting to be too much.  

Every time they would go out together, Nin/ja Brian would try to tell him something but he would always get a nervous twitch.  

A stabbing twitch.  

Which was unfortunate for anyone near them.  

Danny didn’t know what to make of it.  He wished they could go out and spend time together without this odd addition.  

But Nin/ja Brian seemed determined to try and tell Danny, whatever it was he wanted to tell him.  And honestly Danny was curious.  

What did his best friend want to tell him, that had him behaving so strangely?  

Danny actually had an idea.  He wasn’t as oblivious as most people thought.  

But he still wasn’t sure, because this was Nin/ja Brian.  

A deadly emotionless nin/ja.  

Right?

He couldn’t possibly…could he?  

Danny decided to let his imagination stretch.  Entertain the possibility.  He started with himself.  

How did he feel about the Nin/ja Brian?  

Danny thought about his unique personality.  His murderous but also gentle nature.  His incomparable musical talent.  

His rare soft smiles.  

His cute blushes that were becoming quite frequent.  

His beautiful blue eyes…  

Huh?  

Looked like Danny was learning something new about himself.  Funny, he wasn’t feeling panicky or ashamed of himself.

He let his mind dwell on the revealing thoughts, while sitting in the living room on the couch.  

Two days had passed since Nin/ja Brian disappeared.  He should be showing up soon and suggesting they go out somewhere.    

As if on cue, Danny heard a ‘poof’ sound coming from the kitchen.  

Danny listened as Nin/ja Brian opened the refrigerator.  Probably getting some of the leftovers, Danny had left him.  He tended not to eat while he was gone.  

Danny kept his attention tuned to the sounds from the kitchen, as the nin/ja ate his meal.  

Danny patiently waited.  He didn’t have to wait long.  

Nin/ja Brian walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch.  

Danny remained silent, watching as Nin/ja Brian’s hands predictably came up and apologized for his behavior and asked Danny if he wanted to go out tomorrow night.  

Danny continued to stare at his partner.  

He couldn’t believe how predictable Nin/ja Brian had become.  

Well, it was past time to break the monotonous routine.  

“No, Brian.  I don’t think so.”  

Nin/ja Brian stared at Danny wide-eyed.  Danny had just refused to go out.  

But, why?  

He always said yes.  

Nin/ja Brian could feel himself begin to panic.  He thought he was doing it right.  

He’d ask Danny out, they’d have a good time together and then he’d confess his feelings.  

At least, that’s how it was supposed to go.  

Nin/ja Brian looked down.  Everything would go perfect, until it was time for his confession.  He’d always get “tongue tied” and nervous.  

Somehow, he’d end up killing someone too.  

It was already embarrassing that he couldn’t get his words out but to lose control of his body and randomly stab a person was ridiculous.  

Not to mention, he’d always run off.  Needing time to recollect himself before coming back to try again.  

It looked like Danny had had enough.  

Nin/ja Brian’s hands clenched in the fabric of his pants.  He had fucked up.  

Now, Danny didn’t even want to be around him anymore.  

Much less return his feelings.  

Nin/ja Brian stood up.

“I’m sorry.  I won’t bother you again.”  He signed, turning away.  

As he headed towards the hall, intending to lock himself in his room, he felt his arm grabbed, stopping him in his tracks.  

Nin/ja Brian looked down at the hand gripping his wrist tightly.  His eyes trailed up the arm, over the chest and met Danny’s hardened gaze.  

“That’s not what I meant, Brian.”  Danny said, his voice gentle, contrasting greatly with his stern expression.  

“I want to know what’s going on.  Tell me right now, what it is you are obviously so desperate to say.”  Danny tightened his hold.  

“And don’t pussy out on me.”  

Nin/ja Brian continued to stare at Danny.  He’d never seen him so serious before.  

It was kind of scary.  

The nin/ja felt a sudden urge to teleport away but with Danny’s hold on him, he’d end up coming along.  

“Brian, please.”  

Danny pulled Nin/ja Brian towards him.  His other hand raising, gently caressing his cloth covered cheek.  

“Talk to me, Bri.”  

Nin/ja Brian let out a sigh.  He didn’t think he could get it out.  

He leaned into Danny’s hand, taking comfort in the touch.  

He wanted to feel those hands on his skin.  Touching him. Gently.  Softly.  

He wanted Danny to feel the same.  

But it was unlikely.  Danny was straight.  

He was afraid that Danny would reject him.  Hate him.  Make him leave.  

He didn’t think Danny would actually react that way but the mind was tricky thing. 

Nin/ja Brian wanted to tell him.  Had tried to tell him.  

Ultimately his fear won out and he couldn’t do it.  

But looking into those warm brown eyes.  Maybe he could.  

Danny didn’t have to return his feelings.  They could still be friends and that would be enough for him.  

It was just the feelings he had, where threatening to consume him.  He needed to get them out. 

Nin/ja Brian pulled back from Danny.  He noticed Danny still kept hold of his wrist. 

That was fine. 

He wasn’t going to go anywhere.  

Danny watched as Nin/ja Brian reached up and pulled his mask off.  His eyes widened slightly. 

Danny could tell that this time, he wasn’t going to run away.  Danny released Nin/ja Brian’s wrist. 

He gasped slightly, when the nin/ja’s hands were suddenly on his face, gently pulling him down.

Nin/ja Brian pressed their foreheads together.  Danny felt a spark shoot through him. 

Nin/ja Brian was…wait. 

What was he doing?  

“Close your eyes.”  

A low voice said in Danny’s mind, startling him.

That sounded like Nin/ja Brian’s voice.  Before he had lost it.  

Danny felt a sting of guilt.  That had been his fault.  

Shaking his head mentally, Danny pushed the thoughts away and did as he was told.  

He was looking down at a keyboard.  Hands flying across them, with expert ease.  

He looked up and saw himself, dancing and singing.  His hair flying around his head, as he belted out the lyrics to ‘Road Trip’.  

For a moment, Danny was confused.  

Why was he watching himself?    

Danny then could feel an almost overwhelming sense of pride as he watched himself.  

He then immediately understood.  

Nin/ja Brian was sharing his memories with him.  He had linked their minds together.  

Danny didn’t even know he could do that.  

He blinked and he saw himself standing in front of a stove.  

Danny remembered this.  He had attempted to fix a meal.  Danny watched as his memory self turned, smoke coming up from the skillet, and his hand behind his head, smiling sheepishly.  

Danny could feel his cheeks, no, Nin/ja Brian’s cheeks warming.  

The scene changed again.  

Danny watched as he flirted with a group of ladies and choked in surprise feeling the intense hot rage.  

The scene changed quickly, leaving Danny quite unsettled.  

He was now standing in front of himself.  Nin/ja Brian’s arms flying as he tried to sign what he had been struggling to say for so long.  

He watched amused, as memory Danny’s eyes widened, seeing the clown get suddenly stabbed.  

He could feel a growing sense of failure and self-hatred rising as he vanished, appearing deep in a forest.

Another scene change and Danny saw himself passed out on the couch.  A bit of drool at the corner of his lips.  

Danny watched as a black clothed covered hand, reach forward and ran it’s fingers through his curls.  

Danny felt his chest tightening.  

He knew that feeling.  Even if he had only felt it a few times in his life.  

It was now clear.

Nin/ja Brian was in love with him.

Then a sudden change and Danny saw himself, redfaced and yelling terrible, hurtful things.  Taking Nin/ja Brian’s keyboard and throwing it into the wall, breaking it and storming off.  

He could hear the front door slamming shut.

Despair and sorrow engulfed his entire being.

Nin/ja Brian suddenly pulled away, releasing Danny and severing the link.  Danny held back a wince, at the sudden, jarring disconnect.  

He opened his eyes.  

Nin/ja Brian was looking down at the floor.  His eyebrows furrowed with…was that fear.  Danny understood.  

Nin/ja Brian was afraid he was going to lose him because of his feelings.

“Brian.”  Danny said softly.  He smiled sadly, seeing the nin/ja stiffen.

Danny stepped closer and pulled Nin/ja Brian into his arms, resulting in a surprised gasp.

“I’m not going to leave you, Bri.  Even if I didn’t return your feelings, I would never leave.  I could never be angry at you for how you feel.”

Lifting his hand, Danny gently tilted Nin/ja Brian’s head up, meeting his eyes.  

“You mean too much to me.”  

Danny then leaned forward, Nin/ja Brian’s eyes widened, as Danny’s lips covered his own.  

Nin/ja Brian’s body froze.  Stunned with shock.  

Danny pulled away, chuckling awkwardly.  His eyes looking off to the side.  

“I’m sorry.”  

Nin/ja Brian continued to stare.  His mind still processing what happened.  Danny begin to move away.

“I shouldn’t have done that.  Just like me to be so impulsive.”  

Nin/ja Brian grabbed both of Danny’s arms, stopping his movement.  He pushed himself upwards, roughly pressing his lips to Danny’s.  

Danny grunted in surprise before letting his eyes slide shut and pressing back just as hard.  

Danny felt the spark return.  

Love and happiness filled his mind.  

Nin/ja Brian’s feelings.  

Danny wrapped his arms around his partner’s body, squeezing them closer together.  

“I love you.” 

Nin/ja Brian’s voice echoed in his mind.  

Danny smiled, deepening the kiss.  Nin/ja Brian finally said it.  What he had been trying to say for so long.  

Danny let his own feeling flow through their link.  Swirling and mixing with Nin/ja Brian’s.  

“I love you too.”                                                                                                       

[jamesbuckfastbarnes]

Before He Cheats.

(Can you do an imagine with either Tig or Happy based on the song Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood.)

Right now he’s probably slow dancing 

With a bleached-blond tramp 

And she’s probably getting frisky 

Right now, he’s probably buying 

Her some fruity little drink 

‘Cause she can’t shoot whiskey

Right now, he’s probably up behind her 

With a pool stick 

Showing her how to shoot a combo 

And he don’t know

You sat on the other side of the bar with your best friend, Emily, sipping from your glass of whiskey and your eyes fixated on Tig in front of you. He didn’t know you were here, he’d left you at home after telling you some bullshit story about attending to club business. It had been happening most night for the last month, ever since Donna had been murdered, and you had finally paid attention to Emily’s accusations about Tig cheating on you. You’d been together for over three years, accepting the fact that he’d sleep with other girls on runs but he’d always reassured you that he would never sleep with someone else. He’d told you he loved you but that was clearly bullshit. You tipped your head back and downed your whiskey, beckoning the bartender over to you in order to refill your glass. You were beyond furious and the only thing stopping you from storming over to the blonde he was with and punching her was the fact you didn’t want to get sent to prison for aggravated assault.

“I’m really sorry he’s done this to you, Y/N,” Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm but clearly thinking better of it when she saw the anger burning in your Y/E/C eyes. “Do you want to go over and say something? We’ve been sat here in this dark corner well over an hour.”

“No, if I go near them then I’m gonna end up shoving that pool cue where the sun don’t shine,” You growled in reply, necking your drink and motioning for the bartender to just leave the bottle. “In fact I have a better idea. I’m going to make sure he never cheats on another girl ever again.”

“What are you going to do? Y/N, don’t forget that he’s the Sergeant-At-Arms of the Sons Of Anarchy. He could kill you if you piss him off too much,” Emily fretted, following your gaze to where Tig had now approached the bar with the girl and was buying her a Pina Colada. Of course she had to have a fruity drink, buying a girl whiskey would just remind him of you.

“They don’t kill women, Em, not even if they get pissed off at them,” You shrugged, knowing full well she was referring to the rumours that Donna Winston had been killed by one of the MC members rather than a niner. “He ain’t gonna be happy when he sees what I’m gonna to do to his beloved truck though.”

I dug my key into the side 

Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive 

Carved my name into his leather seat 

I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights 

Slashed a hole in all 4 tires 

And maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats

Climbing off the bar stool, you proceeded to push your way through the crowd of drunken people towards the exit. Emily quickly followed, her dark hair flowing behind her as she struggled to keep up with your long strides. Tig didn’t notice you passing behind him, his ice blue eyes focused on the blonde he was determined to sleep with before returning to the bed you shared later that night. After stepping outside you pulled your keys from your pocket, approaching the right side of Tig’s truck and proceeding to carve your name into the expensive paint job he’d had done a few days before. Emily protested behind you, telling you just to confront him rather than destroy the vehicle he loved so much. You let out a harsh laugh and wrenched the door open, retrieving the knife from under the seat and neatly carved your name into the soft leather he’d spent so much money on.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you sure you’re not going too far here?” Emily whimpered, glancing over her shoulder at the entrance to the karaoke before returning back to look at you and widen her dark eyes in disbelief. “Girl, you can’t seriously think slashing his tires is a good idea!”

“You’re right, it’s a fucking excellent idea. It means the guys will have to come pick him up and my brother will see how much of a piece of shit Tig really is,” You spat, stabbing the knife into the last tire and smiling at the hiss of air that filled your ears as the wheel began to deflate.

“We’re talking about Happy Lowman here, he’ll turn Tig into a new smiley tattoo on his stomach as soon as he finds out Tig looked at another girl, never mind cheated on you,” She laughed, folding her arms across the chest and shaking her head when she saw you retrieve the baseball bat from the back seat that Opie’s son, Kenny, had left there.

“Fucking. Cheating. Bastard. I. Fucking. Hate. You!” You growled as you swung the bat at the head lights, going on to bring it down onto the bonnet and leave dents in the sheet of metal.

Right now, she’s probably up singing some 

White-trash version of Shania karaoke 

Right now, she’s probably saying, “I’m drunk” 

And he’s a thinking that he’s gonna get lucky

Right now, he’s probably dabbing on 3 dollars 

Worth of that bathroom Polo 

Oh and he don’t know

You threw the bat on the floor and linked your arm with Emily’s, leading her back towards the bar with a smile spread across your face. Tig was nowhere to be seen when you entered the smokey room, but the blonde was up on the stage and belting out ‘Any Man Of Mine’ by Shania Twain. Emily couldn’t help but laugh next to you, tugging you towards the bar where the bartender immediately poured you a glass of whiskey and handed Emily another Cosmopolitan. You felt an overwhelming sense of relief course through your veins, glad that Tig would pay for breaking your heart. Nobody cheated on a Lowman and got away with it, not even another member of the club like Alexander Trager.

“Tig’s gonna be so pissed when he finds out what you did to his truck,” Emily smirked, sipping at her brightly coloured drink as you flipped through the contacts in your phone. “Y/N, what are you doing? You’re not ringing Happy, are you?”

“Oh no, I’m ringing someone that can piss Tig off easier than anyone else I’ve ever met,” You shot her a mischievous look, pressing the call button when you found who you were looking for and brought the cell phone to your ear.

The dial tone echoed for a couple of minutes, your eyes rolling at Kozik’s inability to answer his phone quickly. You knew that the best way to get at Tig was by getting it on with the one guy he hated more than anything in the world. It would probably be considered petty by anyone who was an outsider on the situation but your anger blindsighted you from any rational thinking. In that moment all you wanted to do was make Tig feel as shit as he’d made you feel, show him just how bad it felt to have someone you loved cheat on you. Tig passed behind you without noticing you and Emily were there, the smell of cheap aftershave filling your nostrils and you knew instantly that he’d paid a visit to one of the cheap vending machines in the men’s room. The only reason you knew this was because he’d done the exact same thing the first time you’d met and the pair of you’d ended up sleeping together that night.

“If it’s not the love of my life, my reason for breathing, the only thing that makes me happy to wake up every morning,” Kozik cried dramatically when he finally answered, your eyes rolling at the blonde’s stupidity. “What can I do for you on this fine evening, mini Lowman?”

“How would you feel about coming down to Dave’s Karaoke Bar and teaching Tig a little lesson?” You purred, knowing full well that he’d go along with it if it meant that it would wind Tig up, the fact you were a part of it was just a bonus for him.

“I’ll be there in twenty, sweetheart. I’ll text you when I’m outside and we can walk in together, make sure he doesn’t see you before then,” Kozik told you, ending the call before you could reply and leaving you sat there grinning deviously at your best friend.

That I dug my key into the side 

Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive 

Carved my name into his leather seat 

I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights 

Slashed a hole in all 4 tires 

And maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats

I might’ve saved a little trouble for the next girl 

‘Cause the next time that he cheats 

Oh, you know it won’t be on me! 

No, not on me

“Hey Y/N, might I say that you are looking particularly hot tonight. If you’re single now, does this mean that we can finally have that pleasure filled night that I dream about so much?” Kozik called once he stepped off his bike, greeting you with a tight hug and a gentle kiss on top of your head.

“One day you’re gonna get an Old Lady and she’s not going to appreciate the fact you’re flirting with me all the time,” You smirked, stepping away from him and pointing to Tig’s truck. “Do you like the renovations I did on his truck?”

“It’s a work of art, my love,” Kozik chuckled, leaning forwards to see your name neatly carved into the beige leather. “Writing your name is a particularly nice addition, you know he’s gonna flip after how much he spent so much on it.”

The pair of you laughed as you made your way into the building, Kozik’s arm wrapped firmly around your waist and your head resting against his shoulder. You’d filled Emily in on your plan when you’d been waiting for Kozik to arrive, which meant that when she caught sight of you walk in, she yelled your name loudly to attract Tig’s attention. You waved at your best friend like you’d hadn’t spent most of the night with her, Kozik leaning down whisper in your ear that Tig wasn’t looking. You turned to face Kozik, his blue eyes meeting your own Y/E/C ones in an attempt to resemble all those cheesy romance movies the pair of you had watched together in the past. It wasn’t well known that Kozik was a big fan of romantic movies, in fact you were fairly sure that you were the only one that knew his favourite movie of all time was Titanic, having watched it with him a hundred times and laughed at the fact he cried every time.

“Then let’s make him really fucking jealous, get everyone staring at us. Come on,” You urged, grabbing his hand and pulling him into the middle of the dance floor that was overflowing with people. “We need to step this shit up, let’s dance like it’s your patch-in party all over again.”

“Baby, I thought we’d never be able to reenact that night again. Remind me to hit you up if I ever need to make someone jealous,” Kozik whispered once you turned away from him, his hot breath on your neck as you grinded on him.

“It ain’t happening, Blondie. This is a one time thing that works out for the both of us, you get to piss Tig off and I can teach him a lesson,” You replied honestly, dropping down quickly so you were crouching before pushing yourself against Kozik’s body as you slowly stood back up.

“Then I’m going to go all out,” He groaned, his hard-on pressing into your backside as you swayed your hips before he span you round so you were facing him. “If Happy asks then I had no say in the matter, you blackmailed me into doing this.”

You nodded slowly and grinding your hips against his own, his hands resting firmly on your ass as he leaned down to press his lips against yours. A small groan rumbled in his chest when you responded eagerly to the kiss, feeling nothing but platonic love got the man as the pair of you battled for dominance with your tongues. You continued to grind up against him during the kiss, swinging your hips in time to the music until Kozik was wrenched away from you by Tig. You opened your eyes to see Tig looking furious, squaring up to Herman who was just laughing in his face. Trust Kozik to laugh at a time like this, he often joked that Tig was a pussy whenever you’d been alone with him in the past but you had seen the pair of them fight and Kozik had already lost. Anger began to bubble inside you after you caught sight of the blonde girl leaning against the bar watching the whole interaction, causing you to step forwards and separate the two men that looked as though they were ready to hit each other.

“No!” You snapped at Tig, rounding on the curly haired man and barely acknowledging the fact that Kozik was snickering behind you at Tig’s slightly fearful expression. “If you get to fool around with people then so do I, or were you under the impression that you’re allowed to sleep with other girls and I have to remain faithful?”

“Babe, it’s not what it looks like,” Tig protested, stepping forward to try and touch you but recoiling after you practically growled at him. “She’s just a friend, you know I’d never do that to you!”

“You’re full of shit, you asshole. I’ve been here all night, don’t think I haven’t seen you trying to get in her pants since you walked through the door. Not to mention you reek of cheap aftershave, you’re pathetic, you know that?” You hissed, removing the chunk of leather you’d cut out of his car and dropping it into his hand.

“What the fuck is this? Wait… you didn’t,” He gaped, rushing out of the bar with both you and Kozik following before stopping short when he caught sight of his damaged car. “You fucking ruined my truck? Why the hell would you do this?”

“You’re kidding, right? This is what you get when you go fucking sluts behind my back, you piece of shit! Maybe next time you’ll think before you cheat!” You screamed, Kozik’s arms wrapping around you to hold you back when he saw that you were itching to punch Tig in the face.

“Cheat again? Wait, you think we’re going to stay together after you did all this to my truck?” He laughed harshly, whipping round to face you and tugging at his curls in an attempt to calm down. “You’re fucking nuts, you know that?”

“Oh baby, you wish. I meant when you go get yourself a new little girlfriend in a week or so, she’s gonna see my name carved into your seat and realise how disgusting you really are,” You cackled, gently taking Kozik’s hand and leading him over to where his bike was parked next to Tig’s truck.

You kicked the passenger door hard before climbing onto Kozik’s bike, leaving an impressive sized dent which angered Tig even more. You flipped him off with your middle finger before wrapping your arms around Kozik’s waist, resting your head against his back and feeling the vibrations against your cheek from Kozik’s uncontrollable laughter. He flicked the ignition and the bike roared to life, Tig staring at you as both you and Kozik rode out of the lot without a care in the world. As you rode through the streets of Lodi in the direction of Tacoma, only two things ran through your mind. The first was that Happy was going to lose his shit when he found out what happened, he’d yell at Tig for cheating on you and then at you and Kozik for what you had done that night. The second was a more satisfying thought. Tug had finally been taught a lesson for what he’d done, and maybe now he’d think before he cheated on any girls he dated in the future.

'Cause I dug my key into the side 

Of his pretty little souped-up 4 wheel drive 

Carved my name into his leather seat 

I took a Louisville slugger to both head lights 

Slashed a hole in all 4 tires 

Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats 

Oh, maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats 

Oh, before he cheats