#where the former is too busy being creepy with his sister

[zhorrot]

Reginn: Otr, get a girlfriend.

Fafnir: Or a boyfriend. He’s bi.

Reginn: Damn, you get no bitches.

Otr: *crying inside*

[jadenoryuu]

Phandom Holiday Truce Time!

(For maximum experience, please turn the light mode on.)

Sorry for keeping you waiting, @raaorqtpbpdy here's your @phandomholidaytruce gift!

When I saw the prompts "Danny-Wes Role Swap", comboed with the No One Knows AU, Creepy Cryptid Danny and your mention about the Ghost King Danny trope only used in a significant way, the gif "I have a MIGHTY need!" started playing in a loop, so here's the bg for this mini-comic.

Before the Portal Accident, Wes and Danny were friends. Not as close as Danny and Tucker, but they sometimes hung out when the Fentons were too busy to entertain Wes' interest in the occult.

My boy Wes Weston has also a side hobby/obsession with basket and it all started since he watched for the first time Space Jam. (It doesn't help that I headcanon Amity Park in Illinois, which means Chicago Bulls.)

(So he plays basket because His Airness does so and because MJ was involved and interacted with the embodiment of a visual novel. Talk about supernatural!)

(Yes, I'm saying that crossovers between animated and physical world can count as a supernatural and ghost-related event.)

All of this premise was to introduce the personalized jumpsuit that the Fentons made for Wes with the colors and accessories of the Chicago Bulls.

(Jack made a mistake with the number and stitched only the "2", so once Wes became a halfa, he added the "3" with marker and later learned to shapeshift enough to change some of the inverted colors of the jumpsuit. Originally it was white with red inserts, the accident made it black with blue inserts, then the shapeshift finally made it black with red inserts.)

Since it's a No One Knows AU, Wes was alone when the accident happened, but being the smart bean he is, no one discovered that he's a halfa until Danny, much like Jazz in canon, discovers Wes' double nature after stalking investigating him.

Like sister, like brother, Danny doesn't say anything to Wes about knowing, but here and then he assists (in the shadows) Wes in ghost wrangling.

Due to living above the active portal and Maddie experimenting with ectoplasm while pregnant, Jazz and Danny are liminal, the latter more than the former. (Thus, Danny becomes the creepy cryptid of Amity Park.)

Even if Danny isn't a halfa, Vlad still tries his scheme of stealing the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage to obtain enough power to defeat Wes' hero persona (who Vlad believes is a full ghost).

Much akin the Reign Storm episode, Amity ends in the Ghost Zone, but Wes gets stuck fighting "alone" the army (the Fentons and a reluctant Plasmius do the same on another front after the Ecto-suit is deemed a failure).

While his parents are out fighting, Danny sneaks in the lab and fixes the Ecto-suit (my boy is as much as a genius as his family, after all), then goes to challenge Pariah.

Due to his liminality, after the victory, Danny IS eligible for the Throne, so he becomes the King. (He doesn't discover this immediately, but when the Observants start bothering him, he gets the explanation.)

So, after declaring Amity Park Wes' (and his) Haunt and a No Fight Zone, the ghost attacks practically stop, leaving Wes on edge, because he doesn't know about the Law.

Thus, we're back to this mini-comic! Danny decides to finally reveal both that he knows Wes is a halfa and that he's the Ghost King, but where would be the fun if he didn't mess with Wes a bit? So he amps his creepy factor and plays a Yandere act (he isn't, he's doing so just for the prank. As a matter of fact, 3-5 seconds after the last declaration, he bursts out cackling at Wes appropriate horrified face, then after moving to a more private place -a roof-, Danny explains everything.)

Does this became a UFS? I like to think so, but you're free to decide.

I'm adding the non transparent versions under for those without the light mode:

[semper-legens]

111. The Haunting Season

Owned: No, library Page count: 291 My summary: A wheelchair with its own life. A dead girl who is beautiful forever. A woman hidden away from the world. A stranger needing help who was dead the whole time. Spooky tales of winter hauntings from some of the best horror authors in the business. My rating: 4/5 My commentary:

This collection has been on the shelves at work for months. It looked interesting, and I've picked it up so many times and flicked through only to stick it back on the shelf. Well, no more. I've read it now, and overall I liked it! As with any short story collection, there's individual stories I liked better or worse than others, but all together it's a pretty solid collection, and certainly an enjoyable and engaging way to spend some time. As ever, I'm only going to talk about a few of the stories that particularly stood out to me under the cut. So here we go!

The first story in this collection is A Study in Black and White, based around a traveller who sees a mysterious old house with chess-themed topiaries in the garden and finds himself compelled to rent it. I felt like this story did a great job in showing the main character to be a total dick in ways that were fun and enjoyable. He's rude to people he thinks are below him (read: everyone), sees himself as being probably the only intelligent person in the world, refuses to believe that any of the supernatural stuff around him is actually happening, and is overall just an unpleasant little man. It's classic horror storytelling - set this guy up as a bastard and it's fun to watch him fall. The atmosphere of this story was very spooky too, something about the idea of a big old house where the house itself is alive and knows far more about what's going on here than you do just gets to me. And it was interesting that very little of the horror was explained, leaving the reader to draw their own conclusions.

One story that surprised me was The Eel Singers, which was Natasha Pulley's contribution and is set in the world of her novel, the Watchmaker of Filigree Street. It features the two main characters of that book, Thaniel and Mori, the latter being a precognitive who lives both in the past and future. Mori wants to visit a town where his precognition is nullified, meaning he'll be able to just relax and be himself for once without knowing what the future has in store for the both of them. But this town is not as it seems, and Thaniel and Mori find themselves caught up in it. I really like Thaniel and Mori from when I read Filigree Street, but even if I was approaching it as a beginner, I think that Pulley did a great job in explaining the quirks of this world and these characters to the layman. It never felt like endless recapping, just a nod here and there to acknowledge that these characters belong in their own world. The story itself was creepy in a fun way, with Thaniel and Mori being slowly taken over by the being that exists in this place, and barely escaping with their lives. It's tense as all hell!

The Chillingham Chair, by Laura Purcell, was another interesting one. Purcell seems to really like writing historical horror that's centred around an object - a corset, bone china, and now this wheelchair. The premise is that our main character is injured a few days before her sister's wedding to a man she had previously rejected, and has to use a wheelchair that once belonged to his father. But it seems to have a life of its own, and propels her to places she doesn't want to be. At first, you're led to believe that the chair (or rather, the ghost inhabiting it) wants to kill her, and I had some problems with that on the grounds that characterising and perfectly normal mobility device as being evil, or a hindrance to its user, wafted into the ableism zone. But then it turned out that, nope, the chair was trying to help. The fiancée killed his father and brother, blaming the latter for the former's death, and was going to kill the woman who rejected him so that her sister can inherit the whole fortune. It was a clever twist, I have a soft spot for supernatural horror where the supernatural entity is helpful or benign and it turns out the real monsters were human. Cheesy? Yes! But I like it.

Next, back to CHERUB again, and a more dangerous mission for James and Lauren.

[judylicious]

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 2,211

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia, Lisa and Lex are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse

Chapter IX

Alan watched Charlotte taking a bite from her fried eggs. “What?”, she murmured. “Are we gonna pretend nothing happened last night?”, Alan gave her serious look. The girl shrugged her shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” “Huh, is that supposed to make me laugh?”

 Charlotte didn’t look up. “Why were you at the rehearsal room?” “Where else should I have gone?” “Lisa? Sophia? Or here’s a funny idea, could have given me a call.” “Look, I prefer to go into seclusion when something’s wrong. I’m sorry but I don’t wanna bother anyone with my crap.” “And I’d prefer if you’d come to me, you ain’t bothering no one, alright?”, he said in a soft tone and stroke her cheek. “Does he hit your mum and sister, too?” “No.”, she shock her head but saw a questioning look in Alan’s eyes. “My parents had broken up before my mum found out she was pregnant with me. So for my sake they gave their relationship another shot and apparently it worked but for my father I’m still the unwanted child. And I guess by forcing me to do well, in College and life, I won’t’t be such a big disappointment for him.” “Meaning if you moved out your mum and sister wouldn’t be in danger?” “Believe my, I tried getting my own place but…” “You could live with me until you find your own flat.”, Alan looked at her with raised eye brows. “I can’t, I really can’t.” “Why not?” “Cos I don’t wanna drain on your pocket, that’s why.” “I don’t care. I want you out of there as soon as possible.” “I will figure something out, okay? Don’t wanna jump the gun.” “Jumping the gun? What are you waiting for, Charlotte?”, Alan asked concerned, irritated she didn’t wanna move out. “I will come up with something alright?!”, she said bugged. “Just think about my offer, you’re more than welcomed here.” 

A few days had passed and Charlotte still hadn’t figured out what to do. She came back from jogging, when she noticed a stranger’s car in their driveway. Her father’s office was being refurbished this week, so he met all his clientele at home, in his home office. She hurried down the hallway to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, not keen on being seen in her current shape, all sweaty and her face red like a tomato. When passing by she took a quick glance into her father’s office though and realised she knew the person a few moments later only, so she went back. “What are you doing here?” “Oh, hi!”, the person greeted her with a big, fake smile. “Are you one of Mr. Ellington’s precious daughters? I didn’t know that!” “No, I’m Mrs. Mop.”, Charlotte replied sarcastically. “You do look like her.” “What’s going on here?”, Frank said in a harsh tone and gave his daughter a push against her shoulder as he entered the room. “Be nice to Ms…? I’m awfully sorry, what was your name again?” “No harm done, Sir. My name’s Brooks. Lari Brooks.” “I apologise for my daughter Ms Brooks and also for this chaos. I should have been prepared more thoroughly for this week of Home Office. I left some of my notes in my car, I’ll be back in a moment… Charlotte, go and get us a coffee, won’t you?” “Frankly I’d like to take shower.” “Yeah, you can do that afterwards.” Charlotte closed her eyes and took a deep breath before facing Lari again. “Oh kiddy, milk and sugar for me please.” Ugh that creepy smile again. “Listen up, bitch!”, Charlotte leaned over the desk. “I don’t know what kind of ratty games you’re playing here, getting in touch with my father but stay the hell away from Alan! You heard me?” Lari started laughing, not the reaction Charlotte was hoping for. “You really think Alan is interested in you? He’s not the man for relationships but you’ll figure that out soon enough. Once he had his fun with you he’s gonna drop you like a bad habit.” Lari looked her up and down. “Tsk, I’m surprised he even thinks he will get it up with you in the first place.” Charlotte clenched her fist. “Not that it’s any of your business but he already did!” “Oh good to know he’s finished with you then.” “He is finished with you, or why do you think he started seeing me?” “See honey, what-“ “I’m not your honey!” Lari sighed. “What you don’t see is, Alan needs a real woman at his side. Not only to satisfy his sexual needs but he certainly doesn’t wanna play babysitter for you. And he doesn’t need no social project either.” Charlotte backed down and slowly removed her hands form the table. “Oh, honey, don’t you think I haven’t noticed your bruises. And don’t you think I don’t know who did that to you.” Charlotte swallowed hard. For God’s sake, where was her father when she needed him. What was taken him so long? “Does your father know you’re dating Alan?” Charlotte clammed up. “Aha, I thought so.”, Lari grinned. “Would be such a shame if he did, eh?” “Why haven’t you made any coffee by now?! Frank bumped back into the office, a stack of files under his arm. “Come on!” dragging her into the kitchen. “I asked you for a simple favour.” “You didn’t ask…” “I swear to God, make that fuckin coffee or I loose my shit.”, he hissed through gritted teeth and Charlotte quietly set up the coffee brewer, while Frank went back to his newest client. While the machine ran, she tried to catch a few scraps of their conversation. What was her game? It was surely no coincidence she wanted to hire her dad. Charlotte overheard that apparently she had some trouble with a former affiliate of hers. What a pretence. And Charlotte started to worry. Knowing about her and Alan, Lari had her by the short and curlies. After serving the coffee, Charlotte quickly got into the shower. As the warm water ran over her body she couldn’t help but bursted out into tears. She knew Lari was right. Alan didn’t want no helpless, little girl at his side, that needed to be rescued from her father. And Charlotte wanted to be that independent and mature woman he was looking for but also felt trapped, like she couldn’t break away from her father. That was also why she didn’t wanna move in with Alan, even it was temporary only. She feared someone like Alan would eventually be sick of dealing with such preschool problems, when he was at a complete different state of life than Charlotte was. And perhaps her intuition on this one wasn’t letting her down.

During the next days, Charlotte and Alan didn’t see much of one another, they didn’t had a fight but both felt some tension between each other. While Alan was trying to give Charlotte some room to decide what she wanted to do in order to sort out her problem at home, Charlotte felt rejected and that Alan didn’t wanna see her.

So when she and her besties, Sophia and Lisa were on their way to another concert of the boys, she had mixed feelings. The three entered the backstage area, where they were happily welcomed by the band. Jake pulled Sophia into his strong arms, giving her passionate kiss, while Lou and Lisa were still a bit shy around other people, so the saxophonist grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and gave her a short peck on her cheek. As Charlotte and Alan met they faced each other awkwardly. “Hi Alan.” “Hi Charlie, you look gorgeous tonight.” “Thanks.”, she responded with a little smile. Everyone who was watching the two instantly felt something was wrong and were kind of embarrassed to be present. The blonde girl turned around to her friends “Think I’ll be heading to our seats already, see you in a bit.” 

Lisa and Sophia gave each other a look before hurrying after her friend. “Charlie, wait! What was this all about?”, Sophia grabbed her arm. “Nothing.”, she shrugged her shoulders in response. “Did you break off?” “Were we even a couple?” “Were?”, Lisa asked shocked. “Relax, we didn’t. It’s.. I don’t know… tensed. He hasn’t been calling me for a couple of days.” “Have you called him?” “No… I didn’t wanna bother him.” “Why do you keep saying that?” “Because it’s true. Alan could date everyone. It’s just a matter of time ’til he’s tired of my bs with my dad.” “Why would he? He offered you to move in with him for now.” “Right, so what if that wasn’t a genuine offer? Perhaps he only felt the need to say that.” “Jeez, you still think the worst of everyone!”, Sophia rolled her eyes. “Last thing you told us is that he asked you to think about it. So I guess he’s just waiting for an answer.”, Lisa explained. “Go and talk to him after concert.” “But before that we’re gonna enjoy the music, nothing will cheer you up like their songs, trust me.”; Sophia said with a big smile and grabbed Charlotte’s hand, dragging her to their seats.

Meanwhile Lou got after Alan. “Hey man, are you and Charlotte alright?” “Yeah, yeah, we’re fine.” “C’mon Alan, talk to me!” The trumpet player sighed. “I don’t even know what it is! I told her she could live with me until she found a flat for herself cos I want her away from her manic father and gave her some time to think about it and since then: nothing. I don’t know what else to do if she keeps refusing my help! Maybe it’s all too much for me.” “What are you saying? I thought you liked her, for real!” “Yes, I do.” “Sometimes a relationship needs some work, especially at the beginning.”, Lou advised. “See? This is why I never got involved in anything serious before. It just complicates things.” “Even if things are difficult at the moment, I’ve never seen you any happier than being with Charlotte. So perhaps it’s time you step out of your comfort zone if you wanna make things work with her.” They got interrupted by Elwood, yelling across backstage. “2 minutes guys!” “Lou gave his friends a warm smile and a pat on the shoulder “Think about it.”

The concert was extraordinary. They were rocking the crowd and the atmosphere was purely captivating. After the band finished playing “Hey Bartender” Jake got on the mic again. “This next song, we haven’t played in front of anyone yet, so feel honoured to be the first.” He put in one of his little giggles there. “It’s called ‘Gimme Some Lovin’ by the Spencer Davis Group. And me, Blue Lou and Mr. Fabulous here, would like to dedicate this song to three incredible, young ladies in our lives, who also happen to be in the audience tonight. Sophia, Lisa and Charlotte. Sophia? I love you babe!”, he said and pointed to his girl in the audience causing Sophia to scream, who soon got drown out by the band starting to play. Charlotte was excited to hear the boy’s version of that song, thinking back when Alan told her, they worked out a nice part for the horns and they clearly didn’t disappoint. 

After like three or four encores, the girls were all hyped up and on their way backstage. “Relax, just tell him how much you liked the song and that you wanna talk with him in private. It’s your Alan after all.”, Lisa tried to support Charlotte.

When they walked up the little stairs their glances first hit Elwood. He was caught up in a passionate kiss with someone in his arms, his hands all over that someone. As soon as he realised all eyes were on him, he cleared his throat. “Everyone this is Lex by the way.”, he said and a big grin formed on his lips. “We met a few nights ago. Please be nice to them.” Lex seemed a big nervous as they were playing with their dark, slightly wavy hair but all that seemed to vanish when Elwood pulled Lex back into his arms and planted a kiss on their cheek. The two seemed like a great match. Lex was really casual looking, they were wearing a jeans jacket and a graphic tee combined with a pair of combat boots. They clearly seemed to be on the same level, funny and not taking things too serious. Most of the guys had a stupid grin on their face except for Jake of course, who already knew about his brothers new partner in crime but everyone was just happy for Elwood, he deserved to be with someone after everything he went through. 

That amusement didn’t stay for long though as Charlotte noticed Alan. He was sitting in a corner on one of the amplifiers, focused on cleaning his mouthpiece, Lari standing next to him. She was straddling his shoulder and trying to get his attention. From the distance it was hard to tell if he was wrapped up in a chat with her but frankly, Charlotte didn’t even wanted to know. 

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

[partnersatfazbear]

Fazbear Frights: What We Found Analysis

Here’s my analysis for What We Found, the third story in Gumdrop Angel. I wrote this as I read so it may be a little different than my previous analysis where I read the story first and went back.

If you’re a Michael Afton fan I highly recommend this. Also, there’s possibly some insight into William Afton, Mrs. Afton, and Henry too, so it’s worth a skim.

Pg 144 '...a place thirty-some years forgotten' Just reconfirming FNAF 3 is 30 years past *one* of the FNAF closings, presumably FNAF 2 location.

Pg 145 "The whole building was giving him [Hudson] a headache." FIX THE VENTILATION BRUH

Pg 148 '...they were able to use salvaged derelict equiptment original to the old pizzerias.' Another confirmation of something we heard from Phone Guy.

Pg 147 "How old are you?" "Twenty-three, same as you." I think this gives us Michael's age during FNAF 3.

EDIT: This kept me awake last night. Obviously this is impossible because he has to be alive for at least 10 years before 1983, BUT maybe its just reconfirming FNAF 3′s year? 2023?

Pg 149 "Hudsan's dad died and his mom married Lewis, a ridiculous balding man who wore plaid vests and smoked a pipe" Did... Did this book just seriously imply Mrs. Afton left William for Henry? Really? (Yes, there's differences; the husband is dead and the man wears plaid 'vests' but it seems very odd to include that detail. This could just have been the writer's own imagination, though.) I have seen this as a fan theory and 100% explains the jealousy aspect of William, but I can't help but kinda hate it. I think this is very important, though, and probably Scott's intention. "This horrible little man [Lewis]... would make Hudson's next ten years a living Hell" This REALLY intrigues me given the context I just went over. The text implies Lewis was fairly neglectful to our main character / Michael stand-in Hudson. Maybe I'm wrong and for some reason Mrs. Emily left and went to William? XD Haha, I'm reading too much into this page. Maybe I'll come back to this later. I figure it's more of Scott possibly including double-details (contradicting stuff with the same character that really applies to two, which has been something I heavily pointed out in previous anaylsis on this blog) Having said that, I'm going w/the former because I can't imagine Henry being abusive (neglectful yes, abusive no) and he's never been portrayed that way in official works like William has in the novels.

Pg 150 "Hudson began to screw up in class...a product of spending the night in fear that his stepfather [Lewis]... [would] beat him just for the fun of it." Ooof. Big confirm on William actually being abusive. Unless we stick with the Henry theory for Lewis (combined with Midnight Motorist Henry theory / alcoholic). "...near-daily beatings..." "his mom started taking pills to get through the day..." So, whoever Mrs. Afton is, she was definetly not paying attention. But then, most people married to serial killers either don't notice because of denial (like this) or because the killer is so manipulative / careful they can't notice.

"Barry, who had red hair and freckles..." Yo?! Is that a description of Fritz?! These friends in the story could be the other kids Michael knew's stand-in's, aka the two gravestones with names he used (Fritz and Jeremy), as shown in the checks for the games and FNAF 6. I've long figured Michael was probably friends with the victims--it makes them easier, although riskier, targets [for William]. The two friends are male, too, like Fritz and Jeremy. If you're curious about Duane's description (our stand in for Jeremy), it's "tight black shirt... muscles... black hair long enough for a glossy ponytail..." I'm not sure if this matches anything found in the novels or contradicts them, though. (The novels = TSE trilogy)

"And so it went... until the night of the fire." For context, this is before FF burns down. We're learning of Hudson's life from his close friends in childhood, his father's death, his mother remarrying, to his abusive stepfather, to his grades slipping to this line. This would be a new fire not seen/mentioned in the games...

Pg 151 "...go to Charlie's for a sundae..." Really. Really Scott. Just gonna use this name again. OK. I'm not even gonna discuss this because it's probably irrelevant. *This is confirmed on pg 158 to be an ice cream shop. No lore relevance aside the annoying name coincidences Scott loves to troll with.

"This is not... an advance into enemy territory, a fight with demons, or a descent into Hell..." Uh, what? What is Hudson talking about? XD I'm only noting it because it seems so out of place. He's probably talking about video games or something.

Another note, although I don't have a specific reference since it is mentioned off-hand many times, is that Hudson keeps referring to his "history" which is implied to have kept him from getting a well-paying job and a girl he's crushing on doesn't know this "history" which is good for him. Seems good old "Michael Stand-In" has done some jail time or something. Edit: On pg 154/155 the girl asks Hudson, "Did you do it?" Seems he may have killed his stepfather or been involved with something else just as bad. Edit 2: No, I was thinking too deep into it. This probably refers to Evan's death at Fredbear's. DUH.

Pg 156 describes an actual "prize corner" in FF! What am I even reading? IIRC this is in FNAF 3, too. So they just hand out these scary gift boxes to people that complete the attraction? (Hudson says he *would* have fun handing out the scary toys to kids when this location opens--kind of a bully thing to do, eh?)

"[Hudson] avoid[ed] glancing in any of the mirrors..." I'm only pointing this out because it could be reference to one of two things. 1) We know because of one of UCN's music tracks, William has a fear of his reflection. Michael probably shares this trait, especially since 2) after Ennard and all... and later on pg 157 it also says, "he never wanted to face: himself" Sounds like guilt, my guy.

Pg 157 "blonde hair... blue eyes..." Hudson shares an eye color with Michael. It's possible Michael had blonde hair as a child and it changed to brown (it's common, something I personally went through being technically blonde/ blue eyed myself)

"He [Hudson] knew from personal experience that toys could turn from fun...to torture ina heart-beat" Fairly self explanatory. Either Hudson's worked at a creepy location before or he doesn't like remembering Fredbear's.

*checks how much is left.* There's still 35 pages (not counting back/front) left of this... This is gonna be a lot of notes.

Pg 158 Hudson doesn't have a car. Poor Mike, probably having to walk everywhere. Especially as a corpse.

Pg 160 This page describes many physical issues Hudson has that prevents him from entering the Navy, all from the abuse of Lewis. Obvious paralell to Michael becoming an undead [because his father sent him to CBPR indirectly causing his condition]

Pg 161 "How's your granny, Hud?... ...Is she still alive?" "I don't think she can die." Does anyone in the Afton family really 'die'? XD

Pg 162 These few pages discuss Hudson's grandmother. She's described as "a seer who claimed to know the future... ...wore big men's plaid flannel shirts with baggy jeans" Um, more plaid / flannel? AGH. STAHP. Lowkey, I would totally headcanon my Aunt Jen like this, though.

Pg 163 "Hudson's mom... the way she was before Hudson's dad had died... never... particularly warm and fuzzy... but... effiencient and responsible..." More about Mrs. Afton, so that's kinda neat.

"Hudson's dad was fun and attentive." There's a good Dad in this series?

"Unfortunetly, he also struggled with mental illness." "invisible low points" (Pg 164) Kinda reminds me of how Henry is described after Charlotte's death in the books.

Pg 164 "When Steven got himself into a bad deal that cost him his small business... he'd taken his life." Oh, it is Henry! SMH. Way to use confusing paralells. So, from our understanding thus far, Hudson's real father, Steven, is our Henry stand-in. His step-father despite being described similar to Henry, is actually our William stand-in. Fair game, Scott.

Pg 164 "...he [Hudson] was locked into a supply closet..." Oh shit, you guys. So, let me go on a tangent here, because this IS important! I just watched a retrospective on Sister Location and FNAF 6 earlier and one theory for Midnight Motorist was the person in the chair was the mother and the kid was Michael. I think this little line may confirm that. In fact, the story may be the key to figuring things out. Obviously, the line is a paralell to FNAF 4's scene in which Crying Child was locked in the supply closet of Fredbear's. I know some people, including Matpat, believe[d] CC was Michael, and in this book's context, it sort of works. This does contradict Step Closer and 1000 other things that make Michael the older brother, but maybe it's hinting at MM? Abusive stepdad (possibly Henry... maybe William is gone at this point), checked out Mom (hey, grey couch lady with Foxybro's font). IDK, but its definetly something to think about.

Pg 165 Lewis is mentioned as calling Hudson "nothing" and saying "you're nothing" on several occasions on this page. Just more abuse, for those accurate fanfic writers like me. Also I kinda wanna watch Morel Orel again. Yall know my fav character is Clay. Yall know.

"You're smoke." <-- Lewis / The text later reads, "...there was some irony, given what eventually happened." BRUH. Why did your stepdad die in a fire? :V TELL ME.

"When his family's house burned down at the end of his senior year..." Huh. Is there a fire we don't know about in the game-verse? Could this explain what happened to the FNAF 4 house before MM house?!

"...it purged Hudson of Lewis and his mother." MRS. AFTON BURNED ALIVE, TOO? Bruh. I can't with this story.

The text later describes the fire is concluded to be man-made and Hudson was blamed for it. Can't say if this ties to Michael, but it IS interesting... TBF, there is a small paralell to draw between Henry in FNAF 6 and his history of suicide in the books, too.

Pg 166 "...this place's [FF] busted thermostat.." I just find this line funny.

Pg 167 "...after three weeks of keeping an eye on the place" Some more timeline context for FNAF 3. We know that Michael worked there a little while before we start playing the game thanks to one of the phone calls, IIRC, so this makes sense. If Michael was accused of [something] and also wanting to hunt down his father, then it makes perfect sense why he's working a dead end job at Freddy's over and over and over. Fun fun fun.

Pg 169 "He hated to think about a functional character [Foxy]" This line is in regards to Hudson not liking the set up of Pirate's Cove and Foxy's hook to scare people. Sounds familiar, don't it? (For Michael anyway.)

Pg 173 "Some big find is arriving tomorrow." SPRINGY BOI! COME ON BOOK, get on with the show?

Pg 176 "Granny was wearing a red-and-green plaid shirt and her baggy jeans." Nothing special, but it was specifically brought up twice. I'm kind of racking my brain trying to understand what the point of this character is outside of "woooo everything is haunted don't you know that" kind of character.

Pg 180 "...dropped the crate on the linoleum with a resounding thud." HEY. Poor Springtrap, just gettin' tossed around like the trash he is.

Pg 186 "If you weren't so stupid, I'd tell you more about it." Springtrap bringing the burn. =:)

"A voice with a burr-like rasp...hint of a Southern accent" I'm going to assume this is because it's Lewis probably in the suit in this story and not our old British lad.

"It's was Mr. Atkin's voice." THE MATH TEACHER? *goes back to check* 'The algebra teacher'. Okay...

Pg 190 Okay, so Hudson hear's Lewis' voice this time. Okay, I get it now. Springtrap in this kind of imbodies all of Hudson's old bullies, including the teacher. He also has PTSD, just FYI. IDK if anyone finds that important, but it's fairly obvious by the line "He wasn't in his bedroom. Lewis didn't just slam his head into a desk; his head had been slammed into the [arcade] game."

"Why did he hallucinate a scene from his childhood?" Oh, it's not PTSD, then. It's just the VENTILATION ERROR. lol Okay.

Just a note, as I'm reading through the more action-based stuff, I kind of feel bad for Michael if he had flashbacks like this guy. They're intense.

So, Lewis' voice finally comes out of Springtrap on Pg 213. There's that.

Pg 220 "You can just stay there [in his room]" Kind of a paralell to Midnight Motorist. Lewis is saying it to Hudson. I really feel like the kid in the MM game is Michael because of this story...

Pg 223 "Heat purges. Fire heals." I'm sure that's Henry's life motto.

The ending was stupid, but most in these stories are. Hudson is hallucinating and is implied to have burned himself alive in FF's oven. Meh? The first half of this one is A TRIP and a little insight into what I 100% believe is Michael's childhood. I think the saddest part of it all is that we never got Springtrap speaking to Michael in FNAF 3--and if it's ever remade I hope we get more of them interacting.

[swimyghost]

I decided to write a little ficlet about @self-insert-nonsense Resident Evil Village OC Elise. I hope y’all enjoy

------

He did it. The famous Ethan Winters actually did it.

Elise had tried to pull him out of the Dimistrescu estate while he traversed the castle, but her foolish nieces had been chasing him around like chickens without their heads. She had elected to catch him if he managed to make it outside.

She was heavily regretting her decision.

Elise watched as the beastly form of her sister, a form she never knew existed, smash its way out of the castle to pursue the man. She tried to climb up the walls to stop either one of them from killing each other. That plan failed as Ethan fired his last sniper shot into the once-powerful Alcina Dimistrescu’s head, sending them both crashing down from the tower they were standing on and landing on the stone bottom. The sixth member of the strange Cadou bearing family waited until the Winters man fled the scene to see if what she had witnessed was true.

“Sister?” she muttered quietly, stepping over the broken stone. “...Sister? Lady Dimistrescu? ...ALCINA!”

The mixture of dust and its crystalline counterpart cemented her worse fears. Her older sister, the vampiric lord, Alcina Dimistrescu, laid dead. She froze only for a moment before rushing to search the rest of the now eerily silent castle, praying to anyone that could hear her pleas that the three Dimistrescu daughters were alive. 

First, she found Bela, next Daniela, and finally, Cassandra. After seeing the remains of the last of Alcina’s kin, Elise had to choke back a cry. Her cries were referred to by her lover Heisenburg as Banshee Shrieaks, though her brother Moreau called them Siren Screams. Whatever her wails were, the Irish lord had to keep her true feelings buried within as to not alert Ethan that someone remained. Despite her reluctance to show her inner emotions, Elise’s brain was forcing her to remember every detail she had in regards to the Dimistrescu family.

Meeting Alcina for the first time. The tall vampire woman comforting her after being injected and surviving the Cadou parasite. Watching as three little botflies grew into beautiful young ladies. Tea parties, balls, hunts, every moment flooded her senses.

“That bastard!” Elise howled, smashing through a nearby window and climbing down the now empty castle’s walls. Heisenberg’s plan was already going to shit. Her lover wanted the Winters man as an ally for his uprising against Mother Miranda, the Ruler of the Lords, and Elise.

“That creepy crow bitch needs to go down,” he told her after all the lords returned to their domains. His factory wasn’t technically her home, but Heisenburg hated the fact she lived so close to his extremely Miranda-devoted brother’s land so they arranged for her to make the metalsmith’s home hers. “She’ll kill us once Eva is revived. I can feel it.”

Elise had traced circles on his bare sweat covered chest, only partially listening. “So, we’re going to release the army? Just like that? You’re a fool if you think that’ll work.”

“What?” he snarled.

“Let’s see,” Elise began to count on her fingers, “not only is half of that BSAA group knocking on our doorstep, but Captain Boulder-Puncher and his lackeys are hiding in the shadows, and that girl’s father is walking around free. Something you let happened.”

Heisenburg snorted. “All a part of my plan. You’ve heard the rumors about the Baker’s residence, haven’t you? Ethan Winters will aid us. He just needs a little encouragement.”

“I suppose that’s where I come in?”

“You’re the fastest out of the two of us. Besides, you can get near that mega bitch’s castle without being killed on site. That is where you chased him to, right?”

“It’s not like he wasn’t going to go there anyway,” Elise huffed. “If I was a man looking for his kid, a giant fucking castle in the middle of the mountains is the place I go to first.”

Heisenburg had let out a small chuckle, reaching for his cigar. “I guess you’re right.”

Elise stopped him and pulled his face close to her, her eyelids half-closed. “I’m going to need some… Encouragement, if I’m going to be running around after another man.”

Her lover let out one of his famous wolf-like grins. “And I’ll be happy to provide.”

All of that talk was worthless to her now. The Fifth Lord wished she would’ve slapped some sense into her man but it was too late now. Her sister the “mega-bitch” and her daughters were dead and Elise had no clue where their killer might’ve run off to. She crashed landed onto a pile of snow, sending white flakes all over the landscape.

“Impressive form as always, Miss Brighid.”

Elise whipped her head only to be greeted with the smirking face of a monstrously obese man. He had hidden away in a wooden cart and was currently scratching at his stomach mass. Elise bared her teeth at the man. “I don’t need your commentary, Duke, I need answers.”

The Duke didn’t seem phased by the woman’s harsh tone. “Always straight to business, just like your main squeeze, Lord Heisenburg.”

She could feel her eyelid twitching. “Duke.”

“Right, I’m guessing you’re looking for Mr. Winters?”

“Mister Winters?” Elise snarled.

“I treat all my customers with respect, Miss Brighid.”

“He’s a customer!?”

Elise never understood why Mother Miranda allowed this behemoth to roam the village. He held no alliance to anyone and sold to anything that held a purse full of Lei. Even after years sent replicating the files and notes Mother Miranda had on everyone and everything slightly related to the village and her cause, barely anything was written about the strange merchant. The most both Heisenberg and Elise managed to gather was that “The Duke shall be allowed to do his business with little supervision as he provides valuable goods for both the villagers, the Lords, and [Mother Miranda’s] cause”. Regardless of what former feelings she held for The Duke, the current Elise was struggling to not rip his throat out.

“But of course! The man has things to sell and items to purchase for his little journey.” The Duke explained, talking to her as if she were a child who needed her hand held.

“Those items led to my sis- Lady Dimistrecu’s death! She is- She was- Argh!” 

Elise buried her fingers into her scalp. Her mind was seemingly whirling and spinning as it struggled to process its surroundings. Her feelings fluctuated from feral-like rage to sheer confusion to inescapable sadness. The Duke noticed and leaned in, his caravan creaking as he tried to look at the distressed woman’s face.

“I see the Cadou is still inflicting its poison into your brain. Are you feeling… What did Lord Heisenberg say… Fragmented? Perhaps I have a salve that can help settle your-”

“Shut up! Just shut up before I-”

The woman couldn’t finish her threat as a burning sensation rose in her throat. She gagged and stumbled backward. Elise managed to angle her head in just a way so the puddle of magma she vomited up didn’t touch herself in any way. Both she and The Duke watched the magma rapidly burned away the snow and dead plant life. Elise returned her gaze to The Duke and noticed the man was grimacing.

“Pardon my crudeness, Miss Brighid, but that was revolting.”

“I don’t take any pleasure either, Duke,” Elise replied, still trying to catch her breath.

“Luckily none of the locals saw that. The rumors about you have grown even nastier as of late. I believe they’ve begun to call you the- forgive my language -the Lady Whore and the Faux-Lord.” The Duke said with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“I know what you are trying to do, lardass!” Elise hissed. “Screw those mortal bastards and their pathetic drivel! They’re all gonna die anyway so what’s the point of trying to piss me off!”

The Duke chuckled. “This is funny. The old Miss Brighid would’ve instantly run to the village to invoke some personal justice against those who soiled her good name.”

“Well the old Miss Brighid didn’t have a killer father running amok, now did she?” Elise ground her teeth. “Speaking of, where is he? Where is the Winters man?”

The Duke leaned back and picked at his teeth with the help of his pinky nail. “I believe Mr. Winters was headed towards Lady Beneviento’s residence.”

Elise’s blood ran cold at that name. Her sister Donna Beneviento didn’t have any of her other siblings’ regenerative powers. She sadly had to rely on the body’s natural healing process and the medicine she crafted from her flowers. If Winters managed to land a clean shot on the silent maiden…

She has Angie and her hallucinogens if anything were to go wrong, she’ll be fine! Elise tried to convince herself. She had seen men who were the pinnacle of mental and physical health turn to sobbing, fragile-minded shells of their former selves due to Donna’s plants. Maybe she could get the jump on Winters instead of the other way around. But that wasn’t a bet she was willing to make.

I’ve already lost four family members, I cannot lose more! 

“It hasn’t been a pleasure seeing you, Duke,” Elise glared at the man. Before he could say anything, the Cadou wielder shot off towards the mountains where her sister’s manor lied in wait. The cold nipped at her skin but Elise persisted.

I need to hurry. Screw Karl’s plan, I need to protect my family!

[rosesareviolentlyread]

Howdy!

So, despite being a lurker, and then a semi-active person for a while I’ve never made an intro post! And, well, as one of the mods for @whumpmasinjuly now speed running the event to catch up, I figure I can be living proof that better late than never! 

I’m Rosy, she/her/hers, a 22 year old Bi baby using writing as a coping mechanism for our hellscape. I’ve always enjoyed whump, without knowing it until I found the term last fall. I’m also a comfort whore, so always know that nothing I write has a sad ending, there’s fluff coming.

I love exploring OCs, vulnerability, interesting conditions for whump, and world building/making my ideas way too complicated. That or writing random requests to prompts. There’s really no in between. I've either thought about it way too much or not at all. Which I guess is to say, if there’s a prompt or scenario you’ve always wanted written drop it in my ask box, I enjoy the challenge! I’m really passionate about creative writing as a tool to explore, which ties into my work with nonprofit alternative education models. 

I’ve got a few things posted on my blog, but none are the main stories I’ve been working on, because busy but also as said above I tend to...spend forever researching/drafting haha. If you’re interested in checking out the ideas I got in the pipeline, check under the cut! Feel free to let me know if you’d like to be tagged, some will start being published in the next few days.

And lastly, hope y’all don’t mind, but I thought I’d tag some friends & my fav authors in the community that have helped me start to get more involved!: @sableflynn @bleedingandfeverish @straight-to-the-pain @softsweetsuffering @mottinthemainpot @burtlederp @killtheprotagonist @slaintetowhump @wildfaewhump @ashintheairlikesnow @deluxewhump @0idril0 @whumpywhumper @moose-teeth @endless-whump @bloodandbandages @whumping-every-day @card-games-and-pain @starrywhump @nowhumponmain @orchidscript @untilthepainstarts @whump-tr0pes @albino-whumpee @whumpiary ok gonna stop tagging people now wow I read too much/talk to people a lot

My WIPs: 

(Note: I’m trying to edit at least one of each to post this week but my muse hops around a lot so consistent and chronological these stories will not be. They’re ordered vaguely by where my muse is rn)

Elias: The newest one, a spur-of-the-moment addition who’s got a few more prompts coming. A boy who’s gotten the shit end of the stick in life ends up in the basement of a frat, tortured after the mob boss who took him to get a ransom from his shit-stain brother decided to cut losses and gift Elias to his nephew, passing him off as a boxboy in the process. Some well-meaning college students decide to rescue him, only to get into who knows what, certainly not me. Variation within BBU, thanks to @deluxewhump for the idea. Mainly recovery from torture for now

Studying About That Good Ole Way/Fae bb: A modern magic world loosely inspired by @0idril0 & @whumpywhumper’s Nico/Clint & Marcus/Lucien series’ respectively. Under the increased scrutiny of the modern age, magical creatures come forward with their existence. Fae have always lived in a state of fear but now more so, as their existence as a source of magic means they can be used for great feats, both by humans and magic folk alike. In fear, some hide their young as changelings in the hopes that in growing in non-magical communities, they will not develop their full magical characteristics. 

     Faith is a young girl from a ‘perfect’ anti-magic Christian family, who goes to a liberal arts college to study Theology. In her thesis work to understand how to reconcile God with the magic community, the exposure to the magic sparks her transformation into her full, natural Fae self. A professor/local pastor offers to help, which does not go well. Her brother Adam, who abandons his family and his church after it disowns and demonizes his sister, is left to pick up the pieces. Religious whump, torture, intimate whumper, some body horror/gore, recovery angst, a not-great himbo caretaker trying his best, found family eventually.

Once You Are Real: Victorian Magical vaguely Steampunk Fantasy world. A shopkeeper specializing in magical refurbishment & repair comes across a life-sized porcelain ‘doll’, broken and pieced together in webs of golden cracks. He quickly discovers that not only is this ‘doll’ actually a construct, it’s a sentient construct, the most advanced he’s ever seen, capable of distressing amounts of emotion and physical feeling. An uncanny valley of past pains that now sits on his bench to fix. Caretaker fluff, emotional angst, psychological angst, discussing human condition, some creepy/intimate whumper flashbacks. 

The Paths We Travel: A trio that takes place in @wildfaewhump ’s Pathverse. Technically the first piece of this is posted, but I’ve rehauled it since then so I’ll be rewriting that intro. 

     Oren is a former A-Class, used to experiment with the extent of Class-A’s potential. He’s now sickened by his own abilities and seeking to hide, to find a new person other than the one he was. He’s trying to write his way to freedom, all the while avoiding his own history that’s written into every part of his person.

     Cass presents an easy out, a friend-with-benefits that’s a bridge between his old life and a new one. Cass is a wealthy Class-C who’s parents hid her ability since she was the only child, and heir, to their pharmaceutical fortune. She’s on a mission to rebel and take hold of her identity, as only a privileged girl can, not understanding the consequences that may follow for a free path. 

     Alice is a Class-C who has lived her life working with a more private sector company, where her empath abilities were combined with drugs to offer high paying clients orgasmic and euphoric experiences without those nasty side effects. When Cass decides to rescue her while at a party on a whim, it’s a whim that thrusts the trio into a collision course. Drug/withdrawal whump. Recovery whump. Some real shitty caretakers, but they mean well. Exploration of not great people getting better together maybe? I control none of my characters please send help

Bakery Box Boy: Della, an older woman in charge of a popular bakeshop in a lakeside New England town is gifted a refurbished Box Boy as ‘help’ by a nosy neighbor convinced it’ll be a good way to help her finally grieve her recently deceased son. Della disagrees, and our poor BB is caught in the middle. Featuring a strong willed tough older woman caretaker, and a Box Boy who’s been refurbished about 3-5 times. God this is from a post from forever ago, but dammit it got too developed to throw away so it’s got at least a few prompts in its WIP folder I’ll get to editing eventually.

[along-came-atsushi]

About Dazai being the (possible) son of the former mafia boss

It has already been mentioned by some people in the fandom that Dazai could have a blood relationship with the former Mafia boss. I don’t know if anyone ever wrote a detailed analysis about this, so I read several scenes with that theory in mind and there are actually some scenes throughout the story where this could have been hinted at and where some things make way more sense.

For this analysis I want to stick with the theory that the former Mafia boss is Dazai’s biological father. But there is also the possibility that he’s any other relative of Dazai (e.g. his uncle or grandfather) or that Dazai is not related to him by blood and he is adopted.

Please keep in mind, that there are many speculations, especially in the first part of this analysis! Should there be any further hints to this theory in future chapters, then either this post will get an update or I’ll write another one.

Quotes from the Fifteen novel are from @looking-for-stray-dogs​ translations!

Beware: Some spoilers for some of the novels and the latest manga chapters!

What we know so far:

- Dazai had been in the Port Mafia since he was 14 (the time where he witnessed Mori killing the former boss). But it is possible that he was in the Port Mafia even before that, because he knew about Kouyou’s plan to escape with the man she admired (where Kouyou was around 14, so Dazai would’ve been around 11).

- It’s not explained until now what exactly was the reason for the former Mafia boss to start a wide underground war that involved many causalities to Yokohama and within the Port Mafia. It’s also not explained what exactly this “illness” was he supposedly suffered from.

He could’ve simply just gotten delusional, craving more and more power over the years. But it’s been stated by Hirotsu that he wasn’t like this from the very beginning, and puts the blame on the former boss’s “illness”.

Possible past:

A motive for the former Mafia boss to start this war is that something happened to a person dear to him, and he did due to sadness and to avenge this person. In this case, maybe something happened to his wife, who would’ve been Dazai’s mother. Yes, I know this origin would be pretty cliché, but there are several reasons why this theory could be true:

1.) There are several characters whose deaths / fates serve as a motive for another character’s actions -> Fitzgerald’s daughter (who died) and his wife (who became mentally ill due to her sadness over their daughter’s death) are the reasons why he’s searching for The Book™; Margaret’s sacrifice for Nathaniel, which then drives Nathaniel to follow Fyodor; Odasaku’s death is the reason why Dazai leaves the Port Mafia; Tachihara’s brother dying is the reason why he seeks vengeance at first; and so on.

2.) ‘Sacrifice for the sake of loved ones’ is a big theme explored throughout BSD -> Odasaku’s sacrifice due to his children dying; the death of Kyouka’s parents in order to protect Kyouka; Margaret sacrificing herself for Nathaniel; and so on.

3.) ‘Going to extreme lengths for the sake of / to avenge / to protect / to claim loved ones’ is another big theme explored throughout BSD -> Odasaku seeking death and vengeance after he witnessed his children die; Tanizaki vowing that he would see the whole world burn for Naomi; John saying something similar about his sister; Fitzgerald playing the big bad guy for his family; Nathaniel leaving the Guild and joining Fyodor because of Margaret; Mori’s creepy obsession with Yosano; Akutagawa’s obsession about Dazai’s approval; Tachihara deceiving everyone to avenge his brother; and so on.

In his last moments the former Mafia boss still wasn’t able to let go of whatever he was seeking, and it just seems as if he was seething with rage and vengeance about something.

[Side note: His mother’s death could’ve been the reason for Dazai to get to know about The Book™ in the first place. Maybe because he himself was looking for a way to bring his mother back, or because his father was searching for the book.]

Mori becoming the new boss:

We don’t know the exact reason why Mori chose Dazai of all people as a witness. But I highly doubt it was just because of a coincidence, or because Dazai was (conveniently for Mori) suicidal. It doesn’t make much sense and Mori himself is too much of a strategist to just go with coincidences. What makes more sense are these reasons Mori has:

“What Mori needed was an assistant. A secretary, a confidant, an outstanding right-hand man.”

“And more than that, as a town doctor turned traitor who usurped power, what he needed were subordinates he could trust. Subordinates he didn’t need to harbour secrets with. Subordinates who could understand him, even while he continued waving a solitary flag at the tip of an iceberg.”

“He couldn’t let Dazai die.

If he did so—if that happened, the people loyal to the predecessor, still firmly rooted within the organisation, would certainly say ‘as expected, the change of bosses was a conspiracy’ and create an uproar.”

It’s been stated that Mori worked as the former boss’s personal doctor. But maybe Mori also worked as the personal doctor for the former boss’s whole family, which would be the reason how he and Dazai got to know each other in the first place (with Dazai being the boss’s son):

“Dazai is not Mori’s subordinate. He isn’t even in the mafia. And he certainly isn’t an illegitimate child, or an orphan he picked up, or a medical assistant. There does not exist a word to correctly express what Dazai and Mori’s relationship is. If one had to use words close to its reality—they were in the same boat.”

This is the only very vague information we got about this so far. But it seems that not everyone in the Port Mafia knows about the former boss’s son, or of him having his own family. The reason for this could be simply to protect them. It’s possible that Dazai was kept hidden from Port Mafia members and he wasn’t an official member himself yet. But once he had reached a certain age, he would have become an official member, and then later he would have inherited his father’s legacy. It’s also possible that only a few certain loyal people, who earned the former boss’s trust knew about his family. One of these people being Mori, as he was the family’s personal doctor.

We know that the war the former boss started contained a lot of causalities in Yokohama and the Port Mafia alone. When Mori took over, he already was confronted with several problems inside the Port Mafia due to this (but more on that later).

Dazai more than anyone else would know that his father couldn’t be convinced to stop the war in his state of mind. So, the only solution to this would be that his father needed to die in order to stop it and with someone else sitting on the throne. Maybe Dazai wasn’t able to kill his father himself (for obvious reasons), so he asked Mori to do it. Or it was the other way around and Mori convinced Dazai to do this together with him. It’s possible that they made a deal: Mori would kill Dazai’s father in place of Dazai, and in return Dazai would relinquish his right as the new boss and give the position to Mori:

“The two of them have shared a common destiny since a year ago. The two of them—Mori as the boss’s private doctor and Dazai, brought into this, no more than a patient who had attempted suicide—colluded, and they carried out a certain secret plan.”

Choosing Dazai as a witness, if he actually was just a random kid brought in by Mori doesn’t really secure his position. But if Dazai is related to the former boss, then choosing him as witness would be a further backup should it ever come out that Mori really killed and usurped the former boss. It also serves as a ‘mind-lock’ for Dazai; in other words: Mori successfully manipulated and subdued Dazai from taking any further steps in betraying him or breaking their deal in any way.

Why Mori kept Dazai in the Port Mafia and wants him back:

After Mori took over, he was met with several problems:

“It has already been two weeks since the deadline for the supply of contraband guns to arrive. At this rate, soon all my subordinates will be reduced to fighting enemies with kitchen knives. And not only that. There have already been three cases this month where the city police were dispatched. Seems like I’m losing control over the members far down the hierarchy.” - Mori

“Cancellations of contracts in the protection business. Intensification of disputes with other organizations. Shrinking of territory. How troubling……a year after becoming boss, and there’s a mountain of problems. For it to be so terrible standing in the top position of the organization……could it be I’m not suited for this? What do you think, Dazai-kun. Were you listening to me?” - Mori

“No money, no information, no trust from subordinates. Even though you’ve known all these from the start.” - Dazai

“Liar! You say that and you keep making me work hard, gave me awful memories a year back, and in the end you didn’t teach me! If this goes on I’ll betray you and join an enemy organization!” - Dazai

“Already, this year he had stopped two cases of members from the “predecessor faction” planning to assassinate Mori. The traitors had certainly been executed, but below the surface Mori was still not approved of. He couldn’t imagine how many of the “predecessor faction” remained.”

It’s strange that Mori is seeking advice from a 14-year-old kid who just recently got into the Mafia. At this point Dazai isn’t even an official member and is only now becoming one. It doesn’t make much sense why Mori would keep a mere “patient who had attempted suicide” and was somehow “brought into this” by his side and choose as a witness, when it’s also made clear at the same time that Dazai “isn’t an orphan Mori picked up”, or why Dazai would willingly decide to stay by Mori’s side.

Of course, it could just be due to Dazai’s intelligence that he is a valuable advisor by nature. But if he is somehow related to the former boss, then he probably must have received some sort of training in how to properly lead a major organization like the Port Mafia. A training which Mori didn’t receive as a random usurper, so now he’s dealing with the problems and is in need of someone who has more insight than him. At least, in the beginning of his take over.

This point of view changed within Mori as Dazai climbed up the ranks as an executive with his own subordinates (who highly respected and / or feared Dazai). Therefore, Mori was constantly torn between seeing Dazai as a valuable advisor and weapon in battle and a possible rival / usurper.

Which then was one of the reasons why Mori kinda initiated Odasaku’s death, in order to break Dazai and make him leave Port Mafia. But during the fight with the Guild he regretted having lost Dazai as a member.

Possible hints:

Stepping away from mere speculations to theories with more canon facts. The following quotes could serve as hints for Dazai’s possible origin (in chronological order):

- Odasaku about Dazai:

“He was practically born for this job.”

The context of this quote is about Dazai’s cruel and effective methods as a Port Mafia executive. Of course, Odasaku doesn’t know about Dazai’s possible past, but it emphasizes just how natural and thoroughly Dazai fits in the Port Mafia. It could serve as a hint from a narrative POV.

- Dazai and Odasaku:

“Odasaku, I know what you’re thinking, but don’t. Doing that isn’t going to−” “Isn’t going to bring the kids back?” I asked. […]

“Odasaku…,” Dazai said softly. “Forgive me for the absurd wording, but−−don’t go. Find something to rely on. Expect good things to happen from here on out. There’s gotta be something… Hey Odasaku, do you know why I joined the Mafia?” […] I joined the Mafia because of an expectation I had. I thought if I was close to death and violence−−close to people giving in to their urges and desires, then I would be able to see the inner nature of humankind up close. I thought if I did that, I would be able to find something−−a reason to live.”

Interestingly, Dazai says this right after Odasaku witnessed his children dying right in front of his eyes. Dazai knew exactly how Odasaku felt after his loss. And he knew that grief over the loss of loved ones can make a person choose decisions that will have bad consequences (the former boss starting a war, not caring about who dies, which maybe stems because he lost a loved one). And Odasaku sadly really chooses to sacrifice himself, because he had lost all meaning in his life.

- Higuchi to Dazai:

Higuchi says this after she lists some of the things Dazai did during his Port Mafia time, which she claims to have read in some records. It could be that she just wants to express how cruel he was, even for a Port Mafia member. But the fact that she emphasizes “your blood” could maybe not only refer symbolically to his actions, but as him having actual Mafia blood, and she subtly informs him that she now knows about his possible past.

It would explain why he looks so shocked at first, because I doubt that Dazai’s actions are an actual secret in the Port Mafia. Higuchi could’ve simply asked pretty much anyone if she wanted to know more about that. And it’s also weird that Dazai is shocked just because a Port Mafia member tells him about the things he had done back then.

It’s still uncertain though, how exactly she found out about this, or if it was her doing all alone. And if anyone told her, then the question remains why it was necessary that she should know about this.

- Dazai, Mori and Hirotsu:

This whole scene and conversation just look very suspicious to me. And it also seems that Hirotsu knows a lot more than he lets on. It’s clear that Mori thought of Dazai as usurper and so he needed him out of his way.

Dazai also seems to take the former boss’s death pretty personal, as if he’s still holding grudges against Mori for killing him. Which would be strange, if Dazai really is just some random kid who got into the Port Mafia by Mori and not somehow related to the former boss. And in that case, it’s also weird that Hirotsu especially emphasizes that he believes that Dazai understands what Mori had to do. It could be that Dazai’s goal back in the Port Mafia was to gain enough subordinates / followers to take over as the new boss (like he threatens Mori with), in other words: to take back what was taken from him. But then the whole Odasaku thing happened and so he left and found a new purpose for himself.

Hirotsu either could have been one of the few people who knew about the former boss’s family and just keeps quiet about it, or he later found out about it somehow (and that maybe could be the reason how Higuchi knows, too).

It’s also notable that Dazai and Hirotsu seem to get along very well, which could be because Hirotsu just respects Dazai as a person, but maybe also because he knows that Dazai is the true heir.

[rebelbyrdie]

OUAT Ficlet:  The Evil Queen Takes a Holiday

The Evil Queen Takes a Holiday

A quick little idea about Regina and her secret identity.

Henry was used to the strange and unusual.  It was practically his entire existence.  He was sixteen and had gone on more adventures and had more near death experiences a X-Man.  No powers, no armor, just him.

So when he found a new book with stories in them at the library, it should have been no big deal.

It was totally a big deal.  Because this book had been in Belle’s Adults Only section.  That was where she hid all of the “risque” books.  What was so risque about fairy tales?

He now wished he didn’t know.  He wished he really didn’t know.  There was not enough alcohol, brain bleach or forgetting spells to make what he’d seen go away.

“Aunt Z!”

He barelled into his Aunt’s home.  He barely stopped to wave at Robyn.  The little girl pouted at him, but he ignored her.

“Aunt Z!  I need your help!”

Zelena, who worked as an actual midwife now, came out of her home office.

“If the town is being destroyed you’ve come to the wrong sister.”

He slapped the book down on the farmhouse’s kitchen table.  “No.  It’s worse.”

Zelena cocked a brow and came to his side.  “What’s happened?”

Henry flipped the book open.  “Mom is-was-is a secret vigilante and I think I might not be an only child.”

The former wicked witch threw her head back and laughed.  “Good one!  Trust me, Henry.  I spied on Regina for years.  If she had some secret super hero past and a love child, I would know.  I know everything about her.”

Well that wasn’t creepy at all.

“I don’t think”  Henry wished he were anywhere else talking about anything else.  “That you know everything.”

He turned the page and showed Zelena the first illustration and the beginning of the story that had just radically changed his entire world.

“The Legend of Zorro?”  Zelena read the title then looked at the painted picture of a masked woman riding a horse with a sword.  She was about to deny it, he could see the words forming but stopped.  She saw it too.  The scar on the lip.  His Mom’s scar.

Zelena grabbed the book.  “This isn’t possible.  It can’t be.”  She started to read.

“Regina Mills was not just an Evil Queen.  She was also a Princess of The Southern Kingdom.  After a terrible bout of winter sickness (The Old World’s name for pneumonia) her father insisted that she visit a warmer climate to rest and recuperate.  So they went to a Southern Kingdom Colony in the far west of the continent.”

Zelena frowned.  “I remember the sickness. I was bored with her, and busy with a little spat with a former friend.”  

Henry wondered what that meant exactly.

“But there is no way-”

He pointed to the book.  He’d already read it and been traumatized.  If he had to be scared for life, so did Zelena.  She owed him that after trying to kill him a couple of times.

Zelena continued to read.

“The colony was rich in minerals and farming.  However Regina’s Uncle, King Javier had all but depleted the colony and it’s people.  He taxed them heavily and stripped their lands bare of everything of worth.  The people were crying out for a hero.  She was Regina.  A mighty sorceress forged in the crucible of pain and power.  Her courage would save them all.  More importantly, it would bring her the gift of love and the despair of a lost child.”

There was another picture.  This time it was of Regina, without a mask, and a blonde woman that was very clearly Maleficent.  Which meant that the lost child was Lily.  Which meant his Ma (who loved his Mom but was too chicken shit to say anything) was going to be crushed.

“Are you telling me that my sister slept with a dragon?  That she’s Lily’s Moth-Fath-other parent?”

Henry nodded and gulped. Things were about to get even more complicated and wierd.

“Ozma’s left tit!”  Zelena cursed and then checked to see if Robyn had heard her.

Henry kind of felt like cursing too.  His life was about to get even stranger, which should have been impossible.

[harveywritings92]

How you met: Shay x Death Doula! Reader

Info on the reader's profession: A Death Doula is a person who assists in the dying process, unlike a regular doula who offer assistance for women in labor, Death Doula's deal with well... death! But they don't deal exclusively with just children, they were like an early version of grief counselors mixed with hospice nurse and funeral director all rolled into one package, their service list would include: Giving emotional,social and Psychological support, creating death plans, helping with funeral and memorial planning, and guiding mourners to their rights and responsibilities.

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

Shay was assigned by Haytham to investigate the rumor that a previous dead member was apparently alive and well. They were dismissed as just so... until, Thomas Hickey appeared before the grand master claiming to have seen the man, a one Robert Bancroft a former banker and tradesman wandering the New York market district, now that wouldn't be strange except Robert had dead for three months now! And what's more, apparently the late Mr. Bancroft has also gone on to calling himself Philip McCray not much info on that name though.

Haytham sent Shay to figure out this mystery, To start him off the grand master directed the former assassin to the home of an Undertaker: Father's name [l/n] seems there been a disturbance at his place of business that might just give them a lead to this mystery. 

Shay was wary at approaching the large manor-like funeral home he heard whispers and accusations of the undertaker being a demon butcher who cut up bodies and ate their livers, others that he'd chop the limbs off and sew them to other bodies and used dark arts on them. Though Mr. Franklin who was an old friend of Mr. L/n assured Shay that those rumors were hogwash; what the experiments undertaker does with the deceased was simply a misunderstood science that will one day change the way everyone looks at life and death.

That didn't do much to calm the Irishman's nerves as the smell of Incense invaded his nose the closer he got closer the the mortuary, Shy paused for a moment to admire the birdcage shaped censers hanging by the door he thought them they were lanterns, but duty calls Shay walked inside where smell of lavender potpourri lingered in the air and the sound of arguing invaded his ears Shay followed where the voices were coming from and found himself in a large sitting room, where a y/ht y/hc woman in a black and purple dress around his age was arguing with older man.

"Well someone has to do something about this, The man's wife thinks we're hiding him!"

"I said no! No interrogations, no investigations, no bloody mystery solving! This will blow over soon."

"Yes and meantime Mr.Cray's wife is telling everyone under the sun, about how I'm some husband stealing harlot, While at the same time some ne'er-do-well going around pretending to the man!"

"The woman is grieving Y/n, you've been trained to recognize such delusions, she saw him die, their friend saw him die and...and..."

The man's voice trailed off finally noticing Shay watching them, he straightened himself up and cleared his throat, while the woman whip her head around to see what got his attention."Oh, a customer, Y/n go make some tea for... um" The Templar held his hand out. "Shay Cormac, and that won't be necessary... I'm here regarding a break-in three months ago?" the undertaker looked uncomfortable as he look at Y/n who this knowing smirk on her face. 

“Yes we.. Well my daughter's office was broken into..." He led Shay to back of the manor to Y/n's office now that the Irishman could get a good look at her noting some resemblance between her and the undertaker they both had the same eye/hair color, they got to the office as Y/n spoke up as the assassin hunter looked around.

Soon Mr. L/n left and Y/n took over "Thieves weren't after any trinkets or valuables." She directed him to a large row of cabinets with a broken locks, "they were only after papers & records of the recently deceased, and was very careful at who he was selecting." She showed him an old file with details of that person's life. {Identification papers, birthplace place and cause of death etc.] and sketches of the deceased persons face she explained they used them for an "in case" scenario of multiple funerals in one day and if the families have the same or similar sounding names.

"Here's the man whose papers were stolen" she said handing the Templar the sketch he took out a small painting of Bancroft and compared the two "This is very well done." Shay commented taking in the sketch's detail right down to the scars and birthmarks. "Uh, thank you?" Y/n said incredulously not used to hearing her work be complimented especially from a man, Shay wasn't joking when he said it was good this McCray could be Bancroft's twin, Except...

Shay checked the death record McCray had black hair, Bancroft was blond, his first thought was a wig but the way Hickey had described the bloke his hair looked too natural to be a wig, nor did it look like soot and grease as Lee had suggested, was he using ink? his dark eyes glance over at a Y/n  looking out the window shaking her head at something.

 "Is there way darken one's hair color, without wigs or ink?" the assassin hunter asked not being familiar with cosmetics, Y/n cocked a brow as she thought. "Yes through henna and katam." Shay gave her a confused look Y/n sighed and took off her gloves and pulled up her sleeve to reveal a very impressive tattoo on her hand.

Shay took her hand her to get a better look, if it wasn't fading he'd almost mistaken another glove, the lotus design was delicate the way the ink ringed around her fingers like lace was almost fairy-like. "This is mehndi art made with henna it's a type of dye made from tree dyes from India, it can also be used to change hair color...if mix with the right components." She explained the as the Irish man flipped her hand over to stare at the moon design on her wrist.

"How long does this usually last for?" He asked giving her hand back. "Well depending on type and quality three weeks? applying oils is a good way to extend it." Y/n stated as she put her gloves back on. *who'd thought that wedding tribute for my friend in India would come in handy?* She thought not noticing Shay's attention suddenly shifted to the window, in a split second the large man suddenly yanked Y/n towards him using his body to shield her from her window exploding; glass shards flew everywhere as rocks were thrown through the window! 

Followed by a woman screaming "PHILIP KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!?" then there was some struggling Shay pulled away from Y/n the two went the window to see what happened, the Irishman kept her behind him just in case. as they watched a hysterical woman throwing rocks at the funeral home, as a man and two women and adolescent boy struggled to control her.

"PHILIP COME OUT!" The man finally got a hold of her. "Stop this right now Sarah, Philip is dead!" the Sarah shook her head not believing him as the women pleaded with her to listen to her brother, she gasped seeing Y/n and Shay watching her "GIVE HIM BACK YOU WHORE!?!?" Sarah screeched ready to throw a another rock as her brother dragged her away.

the boy walked over over to the shattered window. "I...I'm sorry for my mother Miss Y/n, My aunt says they'll pay for the window..." The y/hc woman the boy off. "Don't worry about it I know it's not your mother's fault." She assured as they watched his aunts and uncle load his mother into a carriage. the boy then looked around making sure his mother couldn't hear.

"Is it true?"  

"Absolutely not, I'm not hiding your father..."

"No, not that I know fathers gone, I meant...I heard things about you being able to speak to the dead, solving murders?"

"I don't speak to dead, I speak for the dead and I swear on your father's resting soul, I will find out whose behind this and bring peace to your mother."

The boy thanked her and went to join his family, Y/n winced hears Mrs. McCray scream at the top of her lungs "I WON'T LET YOU HAVE MY BOY!?" before being restrained by her sisters-in law as her brother shook his head clearly at loss and tired of his sister fits, as they rode away...

"Speak for the dead, eh?" Shay queried sounding amused and intrigued as Y/n averted her eyes embarrassed /face red from embarrassment as she thought he'd gone to find her father once Mrs. McCray was whisked away, "Well being a death doula, that is what I do in a way..." they were suddenly interrupted by her father entering the study, wooden planks under one arm hammer and nails in the other "Except most death doulas don't go on path of Derring-do just because they think someones a killer." Y/n looked offended at her father's words.

"Well I wasn't wrong before!" she huffed agitating her father more. "Stay out of it." he warned boarding her window up, he then turned to their visitor. "And you've got your evidence Cormac, Now I suggest you take you leave." Shay bid the last name's farewell, but before he reached the door he was stopped by Y/n grabbing his arm "Mr. Cormac, when you find this man." She made her father wasn't listening; he'd blow a gasket if he found out she was meddling. 

"If possible I would like you to return him here," Shay's brows furrowed at this request, "Here, why?" he asked confused over why she would want the thief whose caused her so much disarray in her house. "I think it might help if Mrs. McCray saw "Philip" for herself." Irishman nodded seemly understanding what the y/nat woman was planning. "I'll see if can keep him in one piece." He noted Y/n hadn't let go of his arm. "Is there something else you wanted" The y/ht woman fidgeted for a moment.

"Erm...Yes, if it doesn't trouble you, perhaps I could help you again?" Shay blinked wondering if he heard right? meanwhile Y/n inner thoughts were going haywire. "You idiot, why would you ask him? no man wants the creepy undertaker’s daughter especially someone as handsome as-" Shay's broke through her pity party. "That wouldn't trouble me at all." Y/n up at Shay who looked equally startled by his words.

Cue an awkward starring contest before Y/n realized she was still holding his arm, letting him go the y/hc shyly averted her eyes to the floor/cheeks went pink, Shay was thankful for that she couldn't see the tips of his ears were red, he calmed himself before walking out of the funeral home. "I'll see you again." he promised before heading back to Haytham with his findings.  

[divineluce]

The Champs || Frank & Luce

Timing: Flashback to August

Location: Soul on the Rocks & Al’s

Tagging: @frankmulloy & @divineluce

Description: New to the job, Frank gets to know one of the regulars. Luce is as charming as ever.

Warnings: Alcoholism

There was nothing particularly distinguishing about being one of many of White Crest’s bartenders, but Frank has learned that being one who knew how to handle Soul’s more rambunctious crowds afforded him a degree of influence, and that was even without the use of his pheromones. He also learned that Soul’s patrons would sooner bend under a firm fist than a kind word--of course a kind word from him was a force within its own right, so it was just as well that he was just as competent in wielding the former. Unfortunately for Frank, he liked the use of neither, and the result was a bartender who mostly communicated through monosyllabic grunts, and lost more fights than won them. But he kept coming back for his shift the following night with no complaints and no apparent scrapes or bruises and while his pacifist method served him ill in a brawl, he always got the troublemakers out, so they kept him on. As long as they kept paying him, Frank was happy to stay on. 

It was Frank’s second week into the job, but as far as anyone was concerned he was a regular fixture in the beer-soaked tapestry of Soul on the Rocks. In return Frank was also starting to recognise common faces; who was there for a drink, who was there for a fight, and who wasn’t meant to be there at all, then there was Creepy-Joe, and finally coming to the conclusion that Jake was a massive tool. His first memory of one, Luce, was not what she looked like, but of heat. Literally. And Frank, perpetually cold, was like a moth to  flame, conscious of his distance and yet unable to help himself all the same-- heat, and the stink of cheap tequila. He put another shot glass down in front of her, which was an anomaly in itself considering Frank never got near enough to anyone to actually put their order down in front of them, but rather slid it to them across the bar top from a safe distance of at least 6 feet. “Your fifth shot...or is it your seventh? Who’s keeping count.” He wiped his hands down on the towel that was draped over his shoulder. “You sure that’s wise?”

Like so many other nights before her, Luce had been looking to get fucked up the night she’d walked into Soul. After all the shit she’d been through, with the Ring, with Remmy and Erin and Adam and her sister… The horrible, terrifying fucking conversation she’d had with Nadia, or rather, whoever was controlling Nadia’s body. And, as the final garbage cherry on top of it all, they’d been excommunicated. The threat of death at the hands of some of the women she trusted most, at the hands of her mother? It had shaken her up. Their mother had done… so fucking little to keep them safe. She’d abandoned them, banished them, went along with the whims of the goddamn council. And, on top of it all, there was all the normal shit. She was hauling ass all day, every day, trying to stay afloat. Bills had been coming in non stop and it was all she could do to keep her head afloat. After getting out of a particularly long session of tattooing, Luce had headed straight for Soul on the Rocks. She needed alcohol. Lots and lots of fucking alcohol.

Waving a hand at the bartender-- a new guy, she’d seen him around a few times, but never paid much attention to him-- Luce took the shot with a nod. But, his question made her pause and Luce stared at him over the rim of the small glass. Glancing at him blearily, she stared at the shot glass full of tequila. Fifth or seventh was a good question. But fuck him for asking. “Not me.” She said, tipping the liquid down her throat. It hardly burned, but alcohol never really did. Perks of being a fire witch. Swallowing, she set the empty glass back on the bar and stared at him. “Do they pay you to ask if people’s drinking habits are wise?” She replied. 

He met her drunken gaze with his own measured one, undaunted and undeterred. Yet there was a softness that blunted the edge; the good intention behind a stern word, though Frank was never great at dishing out the latter either. He answered her blunt edge in the way he did with most harsh words: an untiring patience and sometimes even a smile. This time, it was a slight upward tilt to the corner of his mouth, as he relieved her of the empty shot glass. “No. They pay me to kick people out when they’ve had one too many, but I like to give them the courtesy of asking before I start lugging bodies out.” Well that sounded horrifically ominous. “Alive bodies. Obviously. Just unconscious--most of them are passed out by the time I get them into a cab.” Frank said with some good-humour, a trace of a chuckle on each word in the hopes of easing the slip of the tongue that was more menacing than he meant. “It’s a lot easier for everyone concerned if I just walk them out instead of carrying them, and it helps the driver find the right building when they’re awake enough to give the right address.”

Frank had his head tilted to one side, quietly observing the woman that sat in front of him. He recognised her to be a regular, he also noted that she seemed off today. Albeit an easy conclusion to make for anyone that used Soul as their regular haunt. Tonight she looked like she brought a history with her and it was etched across her brow, and in her eyes, in a silent language he was not versed in reading. The temptation was to ask if she was alright, but at the risk of making himself over-familiar, he said instead, “should I be getting a cab ready?”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Luce let out a long sigh. Her fucking neck hurt from spending so long hunched over at the table. The piece had turned out great, just like all her work, but christ. It’d been five long hours of nothing but tattooing. So, a drink or five was what she’d wanted. Not some random bartender getting up in her business. “Lugging bodies, huh? Did I step into the funeral home on accident? This tequila or formaldehyde you’re pouring?” She joked, her words running together just a bit as she spoke. Shrugging, she sighed. Either way, it didn’t really matter much to her. She just wanted to get the fuck out of her head, at least for a little bit. And, with Nadia definitely not an option and Remmy… even less of one, Luce had gone for the old stand by. Alcohol. “Fair. Probably works out for the uber driver too.”

At his words, Luce shook her head. “I’m good.” She said, stubbornness apparent in her voice. She wasn’t dumb enough to drive-- she wasn’t interested in wrapping her 4x4 around a tree and having to deal with more fucking bills. But, she wasn’t ready to go back to Bea’s house just yet. Bea was never there anymore and Nell… who the fuck knew where Nell was most nights. Which meant that Luce would be alone. No, she wasn’t interested in going back to that place, the house that felt more like mausoleum than a home. 

“A funeral home is probably a lot cleaner for one,” Frank said, wiping a spill off the bar top as he does. In fairness, you need only step inside of the pub and he was sure that his point was made on first impression, and she seemed comfortable enough in her seat to suggest that she was a frequent patron of the establishment (that information alone had a whole story to itself). He was asked once why he bothered to clean the place up after the close if it was just going to end up being exactly as it was the following night. His answer was something along the lines of: he was more concerned with what the place might look like if he didn’t clean it up at all. “And if you can’t smell the difference between tequila and formaldehyde, let alone taste it, you are a lot more drunk than I thought.” There was a pause. “I mean...not that I would know what formaldehyde tastes like but I would imagine that it is significantly worse than tequila. Like, cancer-level bad. I would assume.” And this is where you shut up Frank. And fortunately for everyone, he does. Her reply hinted at a stubbornness that was both inherent and unyielding, and Frank’s been in enough fight to recognise those that he wasn’t going to win. Of course, that never stopped him from trying either.

 “Look,” he began, the single phrase intermingling with his exhalation until they became one, “I don’t know you. Obviously. So you do whatever you want. But I’m just saying, I’ve served people enough tequila shots to know that the solution to your problem—whatever that is—isn’t going to be found at the bottom of the fifth or seventh or fifteenth shot.” He concluded by collecting any abandoned and empty glasses, loading them onto a plastic tub to be brought out to the kitchen. “But like I said, you do whatever you want.” 

Snorting at the man’s joke, Luce’s expression sobered slightly at the thought of Erin. She didn’t know the funeral home attendant well, but she was very aware of the last conversation they’d had. Fuck. “I’d hope so.” She gestured to the stains on the bartop, the familiar wear on the wood grain, the slightly ripped and faded stools next to her. “Can you imagine a fucking wake in here?” She said with a slight curl of her lip. As the man continued to talk, she quirked an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Sure you haven’t.” She replied before running a hand through her hair. She fucking… didn’t want to deal with the world outside the doors of Soul. For now, she could just sit and pretend like nothing was happening. She could joke and drink and push aside all the stupid fucking feelings and responsibilities that weighed down on her.

But, this shitty fucking bartender just kept talking. Talked about how drinking wasn’t gonna help her-- like Luce didn’t already know that. It wasn’t about helping her, or finding answers. It was about forgetting. Glaring at him, she drummed her tattooed fingers on the wooden bartop, her skin burning hot with simmering anger. “Yeah, you don’t know me,” She paused, the alcohol flowing through her system making her head spin slightly. Squinting at him, she shook her head. “Who the fuck even are you? Shit, I’d rather deal with Creepy Joe instead of some Pop Psychology bro.” She said with a grimace.

Frank took in her anger with a calm appraisal as he continued to dry the newly cleaned glasses with practiced efficiency. While most would reasonably shrink from the fire, he was almost somehow more drawn to it. Like moth to flame—quite literally, it felt as if heat was just pouring out of her in waves. He could not pinpoint exactly when this happened but his 6 foot rule had been abandoned and Frank was now standing close enough that he could touch her. He just needed to take his hand away from the glass, reach out across the bar, and touch her. Boy did he want to, and he almost did, but then she shook her head. Frank found himself almost doing the same as his attention was snapped back into reality and his focus was drawn back to the intensity of her glare. He took a conscious step back and realised with overwhelming awareness how much he did not want to. “Fair enough.” He resigned with a nod. He looked around. A quiet spell had settled over the bar, and the threat of a brawl was distant enough that if he was quick he could probably get away with ducking out the side door for a couple of minutes. He grabbed the towel from the shoulder and tossed it aside, from his jacket pocket he produced a small white cigarette packet.

“Keep drinking then, see if that helps you, I’m sure Joe wouldn’t mind the company. I’m going for some air.” An invitation could be heard in there somewhere; Frank was seldom ever cordial enough to properly extend the invitation…or any invitation. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re right. I don’t know you.”

What the fuck was up with this guy? He was leaning across the bar and, maybe the alcohol was messing with her depth perception, but he seemed way too close. Luce pushed back in her seat, just to get a bit of space between her and the bartender. But, he seemed to realize that he was being a fucking creep and backed off himself. Good, she didn’t feel like throwing hands with someone tonight. For one, she wasn’t sure how well she’d be able to do, the alcohol clouding her vision and loosening her hold on the fire magic that dwelled within her. For another, she’d had… enough of fucking fighting lately. She just wanted to drink and sit and not think about all the shit that’d been going on in her life.

“Yeah, you don’t fucking know me.” Luce repeated. The bar wasn’t as busy as it usually was, but her anger had her blood boiling in a literal way. It was too goddamn hot in here. And fuck it, if this guy was going to be bartending at Soul, she might as well try and talk to him. Even if he was weird. The same could be said of most people in the bar, and of her too. Sliding off the barstool, Luce steadied herself on the bar for a moment has her vision swam. “But air sounds like a smart idea.” She said, more to herself than to him. Walking out of the bar, the cool night air washed over her. Thank fuck summer was over and done with. “Need a light?” She asked, leaning against the brick wall of the bar.

It seemed Frank’s entire existence was damned to fight his most basic instincts: to hand his customers their drinks, to close his distance when he was with friends (to have friends), to help steady a stranger who has had one too many drinks and was maybe not as steady on her feet as she first thought. Even as she swayed Frank did not so much as stir, even as every part of him itched to. He let her out first, following behind at a measured distance. “Look at that, a solution to your problem that isn’t alcohol.” He grinned around the stick of cigarette as he brought it to his mouth, “but what the fuck do I know.”  

The air was cool, and with the door closed behind him he was acutely aware of how warm she felt, even at his distance. He made home against a wall a little ways down from her, shaking his head at her offer with a polite thanks, “I’m good,” and he had to be. Mostly because if he wasn’t, that was an invitation for her to come closer, to hand him the lighter, and then for him to hand it back, and that was altogether too many hands for comfort. Frank didn’t smoke for the taste. He didn’t care much for the nicotine either. Like the alcohol, it never lingered long enough in his system to become a proper addiction, but with every inhalation of the hot smoke that was a few more precious moments between him and the undeniable hunger to feed, whether it was happiness or heat. Prolonging the inevitable, as he liked to call it. Not that he ever told anyone why he smoked, most of them were more interested in telling him why he should stop. Frank wasn’t interested in doing either. “So what is your problem?” He said finally, turning to face his new smoking companion, “you were downing your seventh tequila shot in a span of less than an hour in one of the biggest shit-holes in town. That could not have been an inspiring journey.”

“My solution to my problems so far,” Luce let out sigh, her breath coming out in visible trails in the mild fall night, “Have been paying the bills for you. So…. you should be thanking me.” She muttered as she pressed her back against the wall a bit more firmly. Her legs felt like jelly under her, courtesy of the tequila that ran through her system, as well as the run she’d taken earlier that morning. Running. She’d always liked running, but it felt like that was all she was doing now. Wake up, run, work, drink, and then collapse into bed, to try and snag a few fitful hours of sleep if she was lucky. And if she wasn’t lucky, she’d run and run and run until she was too tired to do anything else.

At his question, Luce glanced over at the man for a long minute before shaking her head. “Oh you know. The usual.” Being kicked out of her coven for resurrecting her sister from beyond the grave, nearly dying herself. “Family drama.” The fact that one of the women she’d been sleeping with had been possessed by a ghost, hell-bent on keeping her body. The fact that the other was a zombie who just kept getting themselves in fucking trouble? “Some people I care about have a knack for getting into trouble.” How she was so goddamn tired all the time? Well, that one she didn’t have to lie about. “Insomnia. Take your pick. All of them are good reasons to drink in the biggest shithole in this town.” She corrected. The Ritz Soul was not. 

“Right,” Frank’s mouth shaped into a smirk. A gesture accompanied by a faint laugh that almost, to perceptive ears at least, sounded like a scoff, “yours and everyone else’s in that damn bar.” The solution to most of Soul’s patrons, it seemed, was found either at the bottom of a glass or at the end of a fist, the former was usually a lot less messy. Neither seemed to make anyone any happier come day light. It was a temporary salve to a much deeper wound, and they come back the next night, and the ritual repeats itself again. Frank was no stranger to this particular practice and so, it seemed, was she.

Frank gave the woman a long, appraising look, as she proceeded to divulge the source of her problems. It was as vague as it was short, its details hidden by their unfamiliarity. He didn’t blame her, and a part of him wondered whether it was in his best interest to find out. Probably not. Distance, advised caution. He took a long drag of his cigarette, comforted by the warmth, and eased of his awareness of hers. She looked so tired—more than that, she felt tired. There was plenty of heat (strangely) but with his own cravings temporarily satisfied by the cigarette, there was not much happiness to be attempted by. He could feel the ache in her bones, the very weight of. He recognised it in himself. “Hmm,” his eyes returned to hers, attentive and empathetic. Oh he tried so hard to be hard, but he was always very bad at it, and worse at following his own advice. “You want a burger or something?”  He said very suddenly. “You look like you could use a burger.”

“Well, means business is booming for you.” Luce said glancing back into the bar through the dirty windows, her head listing as her body tilted just a bit more than she expected. Stumbling slightly, she caught herself on the wall. Her elbow smacked into her side, and she let out an involuntary yelp, “Siktir, motherfucker…” She mumbled, rubbing her side. Fuck, her head was spinning, the wall felt like it was shifting behind her back. And unless there was some new kind of fucked up wall monster that was going to… what, absorb her into the wall? No, she’d just drank too much. Again. It seemed like more mornings than not, she’d woken up with a foul taste in her mouth and started the morning with a few aspirin. Christ.

As the man looked over at her, Luce felt her lips tighten into a thin line. There was something she didn’t like about the way he looked at her. It felt like the way that people had talked to her when she’d revealed that Bea had died. Something halfway between pity and judgement, was what she would guess. And she didn’t really fucking want either. But, at the mention of food, her stomach growled loudly. Her stomach didn’t have the same reservations, apparently. “You know what? Sure. Why the fuck not, it’d be a quick walk. Al’s isn’t far from here.” She said, before remembering. Al’s. Celeste, she’d worked there before... Remmy, they’d had that conversation where they told her what they were in a booth tucked in the corner of the diner. Fuck. Maybe not Al’s. That’s what she wanted to say, but now her lips remained stubbornly shut. 

“Al’s it is.” Frank smiled. It was pleasant. Amicable. It was a smile that might have come paired with an offer of a hand to shake or an equally pleasant gesture, but since it didn’t (it never does) Frank had become practiced in making it so that a smile was just enough. Not that he got much use out of this particular skill. Most people couldn’t even get the slightest hint of an upward lift let alone a fully realised smile. Maybe it was his off day. Maybe because when he looked at how tired she looked he saw a reflection of himself. Whatever it was, it remained there as he pushed himself off the wall, extinguishing the last of his cigarette under his boot. Kindness was in short supply in a place like Soul, and this served as a good reminder that Frank was not the place he worked at. Which reminded him—“oh and by the way, when you say business is booming for me, you do realise that just because I serve the drinks there, doesn’t mean I actually run the place, right?”

The walk, as she remarked, was blissfully short, and quiet. This served Frank just fine considering he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, even if his previous insistence might suggest otherwise. She also seemed absent, as if occupied by distant memories, he didn’t need to see the downward tilt of her mouth to know that they weren’t pleasant, he could sense it. He could also sense that no talking, at least on his part, was going to make anything better, although some carbs to soak up some of the seven tequila shots she’d knocked back in the few short hours might. Thankfully Al’s didn’t host a great many customers in the early hours of the morning. “Get a booth,” he told her, which shouldn’t be any hardship considering only one or two were currently occupied, “and get whatever you want. You look like you could use it...no offense.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m familiar with the dickhead who owns Soul.” Luce replied as she made her way down the sidewalk, her feet stumbling slightly as she walked. It was fine. This was fine. The way the world was rotating around her, the way the pavement seemed to rise and fall like cresting waves? Totally fucking fine. She was good. So fucking good. Just another fucking day. “You’re a bartender. Tips. More people, more tips. I know half the guys in that bar and they tip just fine when I work on them.” She said, the words coming out in more of an innuendo than she intended. “Tattoos.” She explained, gesturing to the dark ink that covered both of her arms. “I do tattoos.”

As they entered the diner, Luce looked around at the place-- it wasn’t all that busy, which was good in its own way. “Don’t tell me what to do.” She growled before deliberately walking over to the counter and settling down there. Across the way, Luce heard a startled cough and, before she knew what was going on, a young man had tossed a twenty on the counter and was hurrying out of the door. She spun around in the plastic seat, scrutinizing the man as he hurried away. The light of the diner caught on his face as he opened the door of his car and Luce’s stomach lurched. Will. One of the members of the coven-- her mom’s coven, the coven that had… “Fuck.” She muttered, shaking her head doggedly. She wished she was back at the bar. As the waitress cast a skeptical look at her, Luce quirked a crooked smile. “I’d like a number five. Extra fries. And a large water, please.” As the bartender sat next to her, Luce cast him a long look. “I’m paying for this myself.” She didn’t need his charity.

Frank grinned, but his laughter remained stifled, the only hint of its existence was in the silent vibration of his entire frame. Tips. At Soul on the Rocks. Now that was a joke. “Right, see…Soul is known for a lot of things, but never for their generosity, especially when it comes to tipping their bartenders.” This was not entirely fair. Of course Frank could, as she did, work on them. Being what he was, he could have probably completed the task with even greater success, and with the profits to prove it. Alas, that was never Frank’s style. In his short time working there, he had already created an image of himself as the grumpy new bartender that would sooner bite your hand off than shake it. This was not an accurate assessment of his character by half, though it had more truth in it than Frank pretending to be pleasant and charming. He was bad at it, and he didn’t have the taste for it to try and be better. He turned to her arm as she gestured toward it. “It looks nice.”

Her sharp demand elicited an amused grin as she pushed past him toward the counter. He might have said something, a smart ass reply already half way formed on his tongue, were it not for another stealing his attention. A young man, his plate and drink unfinished, tossed some notes on the counter and hurried out. Strange. More interesting still was the woman’s reaction. They knew each other, more than that, there was a history there. Very strange.  Alas, Frank said nothing on this, but noted it quietly as he pulled up a seat next to her (respectably distanced, of course). “She’s paying for herself, and I’ll have a black coffee. Thank you.” He said, handing over what he owed. The waitress accepted it with a very pretty smile. Frank acknowledged this with a single nod and did not notice the string of numbers scribbled on the back of the receipt, and what was most likely her name followed by the letter ‘x’. The coffee was the first to arrive, blissfully hot. He took a ginger sip, not because he was bothered by the heat, but normal humans weren’t usually as tolerant to scalding hot coffee as he was. “Odd reaction,” he murmured around the rim of the cup. His head tilted ever so slightly in the direction of the waitress who was just now collecting the bill left behind by the mysterious man. Or perhaps not so mysterious if the woman’s reaction was anything to go by, “a friend of yours?” He paused for a moment, “or maybe not so friendly?”

As the man explained his situation, Luce nodded in thanks as the waitress set a large glass of water in front of her. Forgoing the straw, she took a long drink of ice water, the temperature soberingly cold. Well, not sobering, she thought to herself as she regarded the slightly slanting walls of the diner. “You could always go for the ‘grin and bear it’ tactic.” She said, pressing her finger into her cheek and twisting it, offering a fake smile she reserved for her mother and particularly stupid clients. “You could try asking the boss-man to throw on a “Hey, if I’m gonna be an extra bouncer, pay me like one” bonus. Or don’t, whatever. It’s your wallet on the line.” At his comment about her tattoos, she nodded. “I know. I designed them.” It wasn’t a brag, not really, just statement of fact. She did her own shit and she was good at it. That was her whole MO, right? She stayed in her lane and did what she was good at.

Watching the way the girl cast a bright, beaming smile, Luce rolled her eyes. Did this guy think he was some kind of player? But, if he was, he didn’t comment on the receipt. He didn’t even really talk about it. Instead, he gestured towards the seat the Will had previously been sitting at. Scowling at the ice cubes in her glass, Luce’s knuckles flexed around the glass. “Family friend. Bit of a shit, but that’s how it goes.” She muttered, thinking back to August. He’d been a family friend, before he’d decided to come for her sisters. And now, he wasn’t much of anything at all. She could still remember the way he’d fallen to his knees, how he’d willingly submitted himself to Lydia’s commands. A shudder ran down her spine and she took another drink from her glass. “What’s your deal, huh? You like being some kinda… bartender Superman or something?” She asked, glancing over at him.

The twisted smile that warped around her mouth, strangely enough, inspired a more genuine one to shape around his own. “Yeah, the whole fake-it-till-you-make-it thing isn’t really my m-o.” Sure he could be reserved and withdrawn—cold and severe were a few more of the choice descriptors that people often had assigned to Frank. He could be a lot of bad things but one could never say that Frank was ever disingenuous. As much as he might speak ill of his work, which he does when he was ever in the rare position of wanting to speak at all, he’d rather it be him than another person who might be more liberal in using the end of their own knuckles to finish a fist fight. Even, as she rightfully pointed out, if it was his wallet on the line.

Her knuckles tightened around the glass, and her words bit into an old memory—an old wound. A small gesture, a small shift in tone, but neither went past Frank’s notice. Probably best if he kept that particular observation to himself, and he does. “Right. That’s how it goes.” Translation: sore subjection, duly noted. She sought comfort in her glass of water, and he continued to nurse the heat out of his cup of coffee, looking up only when she spoke again. An amused smile flitted across his lips, half hidden by the mug as he lifted it to his mouth, as he mentally traded his wings for a red cape, and his jacket for a blue costume with a giant S on it. He looked fucking ridiculous. “I don’t like being anything, I just want to do my job, get paid, and get the fuck home. Frankly if your standard for Superman is breaking up drunk bar fights, then it is tragically low. Besides,” he took another drink of his coffee and put it back down. It formed a wet brown ring around the receipt, he noticed for the first time black ink stains peering through the damp ring, but didn't bother investigating further, instead returned to the thought at hand, “you’re the one sitting next to me, what does that say about you?”

“You do you. Like I said, it’s your paycheck.” Luce shrugged. She didn’t give a shit, it was this guy’s loss either way. Didn’t affect her any, as long as he kept pouring her drinks. And, given how many she’d had at Soul, he didn’t seem to have a problem with that. The waitress slid her plate in front of her, a large burger with a mountain of fries on the side. “Thanks. Could I get more water, please? ‘preciate it.” Luce said before taking a large bite from her burger. As fucked up as she was, she wasn’t gonna be a fucking dick to people who were just trying to do their job. Which meant the waitress. But, Superman here? Different story. He at least had the sense to drop the fucking topic of Will. “Mhm.”

Glancing over at him, she raised an eyebrow. Swallowing her mouthful of food, Luce replied thickly, “That’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” She pointed at him with a fry. “You just wanna do your job and go home? Unless you’re working double shifts between here and Soul, this,” She gestured to the two of them, “seems pretty fucking off the clock to me.” Luce said before popping the fry in her mouth.  Lifting her now full glass of water to her lips, she shook her head. “It says I’m drunk on a Wednesday night and I need more carbs. Needed.” She deflected, looking at her already half-empty plate. “I guess you were right about the burger.” 

Frank took a sip from his coffee, his eyebrow cocked up from behind the mug in a silent answer to her accusation. He didn’t say anything for a moment, mostly because he wasn’t sure how to, which probably meant that to a certain degree, she was right. Of course, just because he knew she was right, didn’t mean that he also knew the answer to why he did the things he did. Why he warned her against that seventh shot, why he invited her out for a smoke, why he would’ve probably paid for her burger too had she let him. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to find answers tonight. That was what he paid his shrink to figure out and then tell him about it so he could ignore it completely. Because caring for someone else was just too fucking hard sometimes. Caring for himself infinitely so. “Mhm.” Another sip from his coffee.

“I know.” She had positively tore through her burger. Frank exhaled a short, barely formed, chuckle. “I’m really good at my job.” She was also not the first drunk he’s had to deal with. Although, speaking of jobs, he also had his actual job to return to. Someone was bound to have noticed his absence by now…or not. It was Soul they were talking about after all. He finished the last of his coffee, scrunched up the napkin with the receipt and then dropped it into the now empty mug. He took out his phone from his pocket, pushed it across the space between them and drew his hand back. “Do yourself a favour, call a cab. Spare yourself that eighth shot and call it a night. If you’re lucky you might even hate yourself a little less in the morning.”

“Sounds like it.” Luce said as her eating began to slow, picking at her fries. Grudgingly, she had to admit that this guy had a point. He’d called her out on how fucked up she was. And, though the room still shifted around her, was still fuzzy at the edges, it was better than it had been. The water and food was making all the difference. As the waitress left her receipt on the counter, Luce glanced over at the tall bartender. Soul wasn’t a nametag kind of establishment and she hadn’t bothered to ask his name when she’d rolled up to the bar and ordered shot after shot. “What’s your name, anyways? I’m Luce.” She said, sticking out her hand. At his advice, Luce let out a small snort. A cab? What, and go back to Bea’s house? The house her sister hardly even stayed in any more? With all of it’s baggage and it’s memories and quiet, cold stillness? No fucking thanks. She was gonna crash on the couch at Ink Inc and call it a night there. But, Mr. Superman Bartender Bro didn’t need to know that. “You’re not wrong about calling it a night. Jury's still out on the hating myself bit.” She mused, the last sentence coming out of her mouth without her intending to.

“Frank.” He said, but didn’t take her hand. He almost did. The smoke and the coffee had offered some relief but it did little to distract from the fact that she was still very very warm, and never once did the awareness of her heat escape his notice. His hand hung awkwardly for a split second, unable to touch her but unwilling to pull away. He let his hand fall in the end, but by then the split second was a split second too long, though he managed to cover it by pushing the phone further toward her, as if he was meant to do that all along. He drew his hand back very quickly, and wrapped it around his coffee mug, clinging to any heat that may still be lingering. Jesus H, he always fucking hungry.

Frank could sense that her thoughts were not meant to have formed into words, and even as she said them, it didn’t look as if she realised that she did. That the guard that she had maintained through harsh words and sarcasm had cracks in them, and tender thoughts were slipping through, and she didn’t notice. Perhaps she was more drunk than he thought. Alternatively, maybe she was sobering up, and sobriety was a tiring thing to have to deal with. Frank doesn’t say anything, but he noticed. And now, she wasn’t just some drunk woman he would have sent home on a cab and forgotten about until the next night she came stumbling back into Soul (the way she spoke about it, it was obvious that she was a regular), she had a name. Names were powerful things, and terribly intimate. Frank squeezed his eyes shut, ran a hand over his face. “Or…I could drop you off. If you would like.”

“Frank.” Luce repeated. The name suited him. Short, to the point, and… well, frank. For a second, he left her hanging, as though he didn’t want to touch her hand but then seemed to think better of it. He nudged his phone closer to her which was fucking… Weird. He couldn’t just hand it to her like a normal fucking person. Shaking her head, she pulled her hand back from his and pushed it into her jacket pocket, pulling out her own phone. “It’s not the 90’s, I’ve got a phone of my own. I don’t need you to call anyone.” She growled, though the words lacked their usual bite. At this point, she was just tired. Tired of this town, tired of the well-intentioned people who kept trying to help her, and tired of the fact that she couldn’t do anything to change any of that. As he offered to drop her off, Luce scowled at him as she tossed a bill onto the counter. He really was trying to play that “Knight in shining armor” card, wasn’t he? First his phone, now a ride? 

Shoving her phone back into her pocket, Luce stood up from the counter. “I think the fuck not. Listen, you seem like a decent enough guy, which is why I’m just gonna say, you’re barking up the wrong tree here.” She said, shaking her head. “Trust me, this is nicer treatment than what Jake got when he made a move on me the first time.”

Luce’s reaction was not an uncommon one. The registering of rejection as they realised he would not answer their offer of a handshake with his own, the confusion that inevitably followed because what person was that much of a dick to refuse a simple handshake? Sometimes even outright offence because who the fuck does he think he is? The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched. Perhaps he should attempt an encouraging smile. Jesus H. He had done this a hundred times before yet it never became any less tedious. For his efforts it seemed, rather predictably if her prior behaviour around him was of any indication, she seemed to follow the ‘outright offense’ route as she growled her reply. He thought it wisest to not add acid to fire and opted to silently pocket his phone instead, wondering all the while why he even tried in the first place. Why he kept trying.

She stood up. Very suddenly. He’d thought he was being kind, but clearly Frank wasn’t very good at it. He was silent at first and then, with a start, the weight of what she’d said came flying back to him. “Oh! Ohhh…no. I mean—” He stifled a laugh and it came out as a choked cough. Frank pressed a hand to his face and shook his head, a smile visible between his fingers as his shoulders quivered through a silent laugh. He should be offended that she had made the comparison with him to Jake of all people, but it seemed fatigue had imbued the whole misunderstanding with a strange sort of amusement where there usually wouldn’t be any. “Yes ma'am,” he said once he had recovered some degree of solemnity, “duly noted.”

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Just So You Know (c.e.)

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: ~9.4k (whoops, got a little carried away with this one...)

Summary: She is a childhood friend of the Evans’ family. Chris realizes he’s in love with her, but will she feel the same way? Or will it be too late?

A/N: Another song inspiration... big shocker there. This time it’s not a 1D song though!  *LOOSELY* based on “Just So You Know” by Jesse McCartney. I was planning on using some of the lyrics but this fic gained a mind of its own.

Warnings: Angst (what’s new?), fluff, RDJ being a protective father figure, Hiddles being an absolute gem, Chris being.. well, Chris.

My Masterlist

Chris’ POV

I shouldn’t love her.

I know I shouldn’t. She’s ten years younger than me, but she’s my best friend and has been for almost three decades. She’s like family… but only to my siblings, mom, and dad. She’s never really felt like that for me. So why shouldn’t I love her? Because she’s never going to love me like that. She’s never going to love me as more than the older brother she’s seen me as her whole life. I’d be delusional to think otherwise.

Being my mom’s best friend’s daughter, she’s been in all of our lives for her entire life. Even though she’s younger than all of us, our entire family has always looked forward to her and her mom’s visits.

When her mom got a divorce when she was three, she brought her out to Boston where they lived with us for a time. Her mom said she wanted a brand new start for both of them and she couldn’t think of a better place to bring her daughter and raise her among people she calls “family.” My mom was thrilled to have both of them so close so she could be a bigger part in her best friend’s daughter’s life.

They stayed with us until her mom found a job and could afford to move out. My mom insisted that they could still stay with us, but her mom was persistent about having a place of their own. It was a sad day when they loaded the moving truck. But it wasn’t goodbye. They were moving to the next town over so we could still see them as often as we wanted. We also saw them every Friday for family dinner and game night every other Saturday.

There was always something special about that little girl. She always flocked to me whenever she arrived through our front door, even more so after they moved out. She was always running to me when I came through the door from being out at a friend’s or if she didn’t see me right away, she’d come looking.

She was endlessly, but harmlessly teased by all of my siblings because they knew I was her favorite. I took pride in it. Apart from her own mother, I was her favorite person. She was also mine. Every time she would come over during our large family gatherings, she would always be a little shy at first. But then I would ask, “do I get a hug?” and that shell would crumble.

As I got older, I was also trying to pursue my career in acting, so I had to move away from everyone, only being able to make it back when I had breaks. But no matter how long it was between visits, she always greeted me with the biggest smile.

Unfortunately before she could start middle school here, her mom’s parents had both gotten very sick and they needed to go back to their home state to take care of them. Because of that, her visits got to be fewer and fewer and my life became busier and busier. Both of those combined meant we lost contact for a while. I’d hear about what she was doing from my mom but I hadn’t seen her since my last visit when she was in Boston for Christmas and her 10th birthday.

Years went by without seeing her or her mom. My mom had told me that they had settled back into their home state and into their new routine. She was enjoying school and was excelling in just about every subject. It was weird going back home without either of them there or even close by. I missed knowing my favorite girl would be at the house waiting. I missed the big smile that would plaster her face whenever she saw me.

The first time in all of those years that I saw a picture of her, I noticed a change. A change in her… everything. Something I never noticed until I saw her senior pictures. My mom had sent them to me while I was away filming in Hong Kong. She was… stunning. I hadn’t seen her since we had both moved away. Our visits to Boston never seemed to have overlapped in the years passed. So the image I had of the little girl who I always saw running towards me was shattered in that moment. She suddenly wasn’t the little girl I once knew anymore.

The next instance that started to change my mind was when one of our visits did end up overlapping for once after she had started college. I was just to start filming Captain America and I was in desperate need of some time at home. I had no idea she was there and they had no idea I was coming, so when I walked into my parents’ house I had to stop. She was standing at the kitchen island with both of our moms, and my sister Carly holding my niece, Stella. She was making Stella giggle by blowing raspberries on her cheek. All of their eyes shifted to me but the only ones I noticed were hers. They shone more brightly than all of the stars in the sky. And her smile… my god, her smile. I swear my heart skipped a beat when she smiled at me. I was bombarded with hugs from my mom and my sister, but I couldn’t look away from her. She stayed back seeming to revert back to her shy nature.

I brushed off my family’s questions to approach her. I held out my arms to her, “Do I get a hug?” I ask smirking.

And just like she did as a small child, she wrapped her arms around my neck, settling into my arms like she never left. I couldn’t believe it. She was a woman. A breathtakingly beautiful woman. “Hey stranger,” she whispered into my ear.

“How’s my favorite girl?” I purr back before pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. They sparkled. When did that become a thing? My hands cup her face as I try to get a better look at her up close. Her pictures don’t do her justice. She’s much more gorgeous in person. “God, where did that tiny little girl go?” I turn to her mom, “When did this happen?”

“Overnight,” she replied shrugging. Our moms exchange a look like they knew something we didn’t. They always pestered me, and not Scott for obvious reasons, saying that she’ll probably have a crush on me when she gets older. With how she behaved, it was a 50/50 shot. She’d either grow up to think about me as an older brother or her biggest crush. At the time, I hoped it was the former. I thought having someone so much younger than me, who me and my family thought was family, have a crush on me seemed wrong. But now that that time is here, I’ve completely changing my mind. I hoped for the latter.

Her visit wasn’t nearly long enough but she had to get back to school. I wanted to spend more time with her though. I wanted to get to know the woman she was now. She had changed so much, I felt like I barely knew her anymore. I wanted to change that though. So before she left, we exchanged numbers.

From then on, we talked close to every day. I flew her out multiple times when she had the time off to the sets of the Marvel movies. Everyone loved having her on set. They always found themselves drawn to her in between scenes.

She especially got close with RDJ and Scarlett. She got close with everyone on set but there was a special connection with her and Robert from the moment they met. He practically claimed her as “his.” He was like a protective father over her, not letting anyone near her unless he approved, he’d get her lunch when she insisted she wasn’t hungry, he went slightly nuts over her.

“Is she, uh, seeing anyone?” He asked me in a non-creepy-protective-father-way. “Like, does she have a boyfriend that I should be concerned about? She wouldn’t tell me.”

“Not that I know of.” I shrug, pretending like her being with anyone doesn’t bother me in the slightest. Apparently, I’m not very convincing though.

“And, uh, what about you, Cap?” He gestures with his glasses towards me. “You got any interest in her?”

Of course I did. She’s been the topic of my dreams for the past few years now. I’ve had to bite my tongue whenever anyone in my family brought her up. I have to stop myself from smiling like an absolute idiot when her name pops up on my phone. But of course I couldn’t tell him that.

“There’s really no use in denying it,” he continues before I even had a chance to answer. “It’s written all over that annoyingly perfect face of yours whenever anyone even mentions her name.”

“No.” I vehemently try to deny it, “She’s like family.” Even as I said that, I knew he wouldn’t believe it.

“If I looked at my family like that, I’d be in jail, so don’t even try to pawn it off on that.” He patted my back. “You have the hots for your best friend.”

 “It’s more than that.” I quietly admitted, my eyes finding where she was walking arm and arm with Tom Hiddleston. The smile that was plastered on her face was evident to everyone. She liked him. She also got close with Tom while on the set of this movie. They spent a lot of time together when we were shooting scenes he wasn’t in. I’d see them talking and laughing with each other, off by themselves walking around the set with her hand on his arm like they are now, looking more than comfortable around each other. To say I was jealous would be an understatement. How could I compete with him?

“Why don’t you just tell her?” He asked like it was obvious to everyone but me.

“Come on,” I turned away from them trying to busy myself as much as possible so I don’t completely lose it. “She’ll never look at me like that.” I subtly gesture back to them.

“Are you trying to act clueless or are you actually that clueless?” I furrowed my brows at him. “Everyone sees it. She looks at you like that tenfold. How can you not see that?”

“Because she doesn’t?” I snap, instantly regretting my slight aggression. I know I shouldn’t take out my frustrations on him. He only has the best and purest intentions. I shrug off my reaction. “Besides, why would she be interested in me when she has a guy like that?”

“You gotta give yourself more credit than that. You’re best friends. Don’t you think maybe, just maybe, she could feel the same way that you do?”

“If she did, and that’s a big if,” I couldn’t let my heart entertain the idea that it was true, but I couldn’t deny my sliver of hope that weaseled its way in, “why wouldn’t she tell me? Like you said, we’re best friends. Why couldn’t she trust me with that?”

“Like you’ve been so forthcoming with her?” He rolled his eyes, catching me in my bullshit. I know he’s right. I can’t be a hypocrite here. “Look, all I’m saying is tell her how you feel. You may be surprised.”

We were both called away having to go back to work, but later that night, he had one more thing to add, “When she does tell you, it may not be now or in the near future, but when she does,” his playful demeanor turned serious as his hand came down hard on my shoulder, “if you so much as think about hurting a pretty little hair on that gorgeous head of hers, you’ll answer to me. You got that?” I could see the fire in his eyes behind his threat. “She doesn’t have that father figure in her life, someone’s gotta step up.” He assumed that responsibility without hesitation the second he met her. I know he’s grown to love her like a daughter and I appreciate that more than he will ever know.

But this I knew for certain, “I can assure you with the utmost confidence that hurting her would be like hurting myself. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good answer.” He clapped me on my back. “Gotta keep our girl happy so she’ll want to keep coming back.” With that, he was gone.

“You know he’s right.” Scarlett appeared at my other side.

“Does everyone have an opinion?” I ask amazed at how nosy people are in my business. Scarlett is someone I’ve known for many years. Having done multiple movies together already, we’ve gotten pretty close over those long days and nights of filming and press. So I go to her when I want advice from a woman that’s not related to me and I’m not in love with.

“Of course we do. We are the ones seeing you guys make googly eyes at each other for hours on end.” She smirks. “It’s gotten to the point where you guys just need to make out and confess your undying love for each other already. I don’t know how much more of the sexual tension we can take.” She skipped ahead of me. “We do want her coming back as often as possible, you know. It’ll give you plenty of opportunities.” She smiles teasingly before she rushes off to her car to leave for the night.

Everyone liked having her around so much I swear they preferred her over me. They would constantly asked me when she would be visiting again the second she leaves. They’ve even contacted her directly telling her to just drop everything and follow them around to every location. She’d always laugh them off, thinking they were crazy. I’d secretly always hoped one day she’d say she would. I know it wouldn’t be rational. She loves where she is and the constant traveling would be exhausting for someone who doesn’t have to. So they settled for her occasional visits instead.

Having them talk about her and consistently asking about her made me miss her more than I should. It felt like there was a part of me missing when she would leave. I think everyone on set could see that, too. The morale on set was just a tad lower when she wasn’t there.

So to make things a little easier, I offered for her to move out to LA after she finished college. I told her that she could live at my house since I wouldn’t be home very often due to my filming schedule with Marvel and the other projects I had lined up. I made sure she knew that she was more than welcome to spend as much time there as she wanted. To my surprise, she said yes, saying she was looking at some job opportunities in LA anyway so this would help her tremendously.

When I told my family the news, although they were supportive- they loved the idea of having me out there with her while she’s in a new city- they were also skeptical. Especially Scott.

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up is all,” Scott had said being the most vocal about his skepticism. Of course I told him when I started to have feelings for her. He was the first person I told because I knew he would never judge me. He wasn’t the least bit surprised at the turn of events, saying he could have seen that coming from a million miles away. He told me to wait and see if it would go away… that was two years ago.

I tried moving on from her. Dating any woman was an attempt at that, but they could always see that my heart wasn’t fully into the relationship. Thankfully our respective schedules were going to be infinitely busy so all of the relationships ended it on good notes. “What would happen if she brings home a guy, or God forbid, you get a girlfriend? Wouldn’t that be a tad bit awkward having the girl you’re incurably in love with, in the next room?”

I didn’t plan on getting another girlfriend until I got up the courage to tell her how I felt. The best case scenario would be that she would tell me she’s just as crazy about me as I am her and we could happily be together. The worst would obviously be her rejecting me, changing our friendship for a while or longer and then I could finally move on from her… But deep down, I know that no one else could have my whole heart like she does. It wasn’t fair to the other girl if I would never be able to fully give my all which she deserved.

Years passed and our arrangement worked out perfectly. I would be away for a few months, come back and hang with her, do press, go home to Boston with her, then she would return to LA and I would head off to my next project. She never brought any potential suitors around and neither did I. It was as perfect of an arrangement as possible. I got to spend as much time with her as I could, and I couldn’t have been happier.

I had just finished filming Civil War when I was planning on finally telling her how I felt. RDJ tried to convince me to for years. Every movie we did together, he made it his personal mission to hype me up every day on set, getting me ready for when I would tell her. It took a few years but now I think I can do it. I couldn’t wait to see her again. Flying home, I had this whole speech ready for when I saw her. But then I got a call from my manager saying I was cast in another movie and was needed in Georgia within the week. As soon as I got home, I needed to pack for another three months or so in the Georgia heat.

But as soon as I stepped through the door, she dropped a bombshell on me: she and Tom had taken the next step and made it official.

To say I was devastated would be another understatement. The woman I was hopelessly in love with was dating someone that I call my friend. I didn’t even know what to do. She told me all about how he made her feel, but I hardly heard anything. I didn’t want to hear anything about how the man who was making my girl smile from ear-to-ear. They’ve been dating for a few months now since he came into town for a short time after filming a movie around the world.

I did end up meeting up with them together when she asked me to because I’m weak and can’t say no to her. I tried to be friendly with him because I actually liked the guy. That’s what sucked the most. She was with a genuinely good man who makes her happy. How could I try and interfere with her happiness because I was too afraid to tell her how I felt?

So I tried to go on with my life. I met someone on set of one of my movies and adopted a dog. Shortly after that, she moved out of my house and into an apartment a few miles away. It didn’t feel the same not having her there. After long press junkets in LA, I knew I would always come home to her smiling face. Coming home to an empty house after that… I didn’t like it. For years, I’d grown accustomed to having her there when I came home. The smell of her body spray lingered after she left, taunting me. I could have had her. She could have stayed and been mine if I had come clean sooner. Why did I wait so long?

After my relationship ended, instead of focusing on dating, I focused on my career. I managed to make it to the end of my contract with Marvel as well as some new projects.

When I had gotten back into town after filming for the last two Avengers movies, I got a call from Tom. I was caught completely off guard by his question… asking for my opinion on how he should propose to her. It’s coming up on three years now so I shouldn’t have been that surprised. But I still was. I had always hoped that they would either never get married or they’d break up before they got to that step. I mumbled something about how I was getting on a plane and would get back to him. I couldn’t tell him what he should do. Proposing to her… I wanted to do that. I wanted to be the one who got to that point with her. My chance was slipping away…

I texted Scott with the guise that we were going out to celebrate the end of my Marvel contract and he didn’t question it. We found a bar and I drank.

“So, what’s the real reason for this evening?” He asked after four beers and a shot of tequila. He probably figured that was the appropriate amount of alcohol consumed to ask.

 And after another shot of tequila, I was forced to come clean. “He wants to propose to her.” It pained me to the core to say those words out loud. “This is my worst fear coming true. I’m going to lose her. I’m going to lose any chance I have with her.”

He scoffed, “That’s not going to happen, bro. She would never ditch you because she got married.”

But that wasn’t what I meant. “I’m losing my chance. My window is closing.” That realization didn’t sit well with me. Scott tried to ease my anxiety for the rest of the night, but nothing helped.

When he and I parted, I took an Uber to her apartment. I didn’t care if it was 3 in the morning. I needed to see her and tell her before it was too late. The alcohol was severely effecting my judgement, but I didn’t want to wait another minute.

She buzzed me up after I tried my best to sound sober. But that facade was instantly broken when I tripped over the second to last step and then practically rammed into her door.

She looked even more breathtaking than the last time I had seen her. Her hair was tied up in a bun, she had no make-up on, and she was wearing a Captain America shirt. She didn’t look like she had been sleeping. She’s been a night owl her entire life so it was almost guaranteed that she would still be awake by the time I got here. Seeing her still took my breath away. I wanted to forget my feelings for her. I really did. I wanted to be able to move on and be happy, just like she had. But I couldn’t. I loved her more than I’d loved anyone before… but I could never have her.

“Are you okay?” She asks, stepping forward to help me stand.

“I’m aces.” I slur the end of the word, slumping my arm around her shoulders.

“Oh God,” her beautiful features twists with disgust, “are you drunk?” She drags me inside and shuts the door.

“I’mmmmmoderatelyfunctional.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” She lowers me onto her couch before she starts to walk away, claiming she was going to grab a blanket and pillow for me.

“No, wait,” I stop her, pulling her down next to me. “I need to tell you something.”

“Chris,” she chided, “it’s three o’clock in the morning. Can’t it wait until a more appropriate hour?”

“No, because by that time, I may not have the guts to tell you what I’ve been dying to tell you for years now.” I sit up straight and focus on her. I hold her hand in mine. It was cold in my warm one. She waits for me to continue. I almost chicken out, but the last drink I chugged before leaving the bar pushes me forward. “I love you.”

Her brows furrow. “I love you, too, Chris. That’s not exactly new news to me.” She chuckles. “I mean, you have known me for my entire life so I expect there to be some sort of love to come from that.”

“No, no, no,” I shake my head a little too quickly making me dizzy for a split second. “I love you.” I put more emphasis on it so she would get what I meant. The shock that overtook her expression told me she understood this time. “I know I shouldn’t love you like this- I know I shouldn’t be in love with you like this- but I am. I so am. God I’m so in love with you. And I want to be… and that scares me. God I am so scared.” The alcohol was inhibiting my already frayed emotions. I felt the large lump form in my throat and the tears threaten to spill. I run my hands through my hair trying to get ahold of myself. “You’ve been there- you’ve always been there. Even when I didn’t think I deserved it, you were there. And now I feel like I’m going to lose you forever to him and I can’t let that happen. I don’t even know who I am without you.”

She wrapped one of her arms around my shoulders with the other hand bringing my cheek to her forehead, pulling me into a tight embrace as I let the waterworks fall and the word vomit spill out. I’d be surprised if she understood a single that slurred out of my mouth. “These feelings… they’ve taken control of me and I can’t help it. I can’t sit around anymore. I can’t let him win. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. Losing you would be like taking one of my limbs. You’ve been a part of my life since before I could really remember. I don’t even remember what life was like without you in it. I know that we’ve grown up together and me being in love with you could sound perverted, but I promise it’s nothing like that. I didn’t feel anything like that towards you until you were an adult, I swear. I swear. I hope you believe me because I honestly don’t know how I would live in a world without you.”

She knows how emotional I am on any given day. She knows I cry at romantic comedies. She saw how crushed I was when my bulldog passed away. She knows how much I cried on my last few days on the most recent Avengers set. And that’s when I was sober. The alcohol I had consumed earlier definitely doesn’t help with my already frayed emotions. I clutch to her arm like she is my lifeline. She is, though. She is the reason I am who I am today. This is definitely not the way I wanted to tell her. I wanted to do this smoother. But I’m running out of time.

She only pulls away when she feels I’m calmer. She gently pushes me to lay back down on the couch. I can feel the heaviness of sleep behind my eyes now that I’ve released all of my pent up emotions. She brushes my longer hair from my eyes and rests her hand on my cheek. She whispers, “We’ll talk more in the morning,” before she lays one of her many blankets over my body and I’m drifting further into slumber.

Reader’s POV

I have no words.

As I watch the man I’ve known my entire life snore softly on my couch, I try to process all of what he just confessed.

He loves me. And not in the familial way I always had thought.

I had so many questions. When? How long? Why now? Was he ever going to tell me? What brought all of this on? When did things change with him?

My heart wrenches as I watch the man I’ve been in love with since I was sixteen pass out on my couch after confessing his heart to me. I don’t know when it happened. But it did and I haven’t been able to forget about it since.

 I had always had Chris in my corner. After my parents divorced, his family basically took in my mom and I until my mom could get back on her feet. Lisa and Robert were wonderful people to be around on a daily basis as a child. They were fun, supportive, extremely helpful, and had the best kids for me to grow up around. Granted they weren’t “kids” when we moved there, but they never treated me as if I were an outsider. It was like they had adopted me as one of their own, always including me in everything, teaching me things that only “siblings” could teach you. Chris was always the more gentle one with me. He’d always come to my aid when Scott or Shanna were teasing me too much or playing too rough with me. Because I saw him as a protector, I found myself drawn to him. Whenever we would go to their house, I’d want to find Chris immediately. But because I was a shy kid, it would take me a while to come out of my shell. Until he said the magic words, “do I get a hug?”, then everything would be alright.

When he left to live in California, I cried. I knew I wouldn’t see him as often as I wanted anymore and that hurt. And then when my mom told me we were moving back to our home state to take care of my grandparents, I fell apart. Leaving everything I knew- my friends, my home, the Evans’- was the worst possible thing that could have happened at ten years old.

The last time I saw Chris before he left, he promised that he would come back and check on his “favorite girl.” As a kid, I made him pinky promise because that was law. After my mom and I moved, I didn’t hear from him. We heard from Lisa almost daily, but we didn’t hear a word from Chris. She had said that he was busy filming and traveling, but that wasn’t a good enough excuse.

He broke his promise to me. He didn’t come to visit us. He went home to Boston for major events like when Carly got married and had her three kids, holidays when he wasn’t working, and sometimes even just because. But he never came out to visit me.

I didn’t see any of his movies. His betrayal was too much for me to handle at the time. That was until one of my friends had me watch “Fantastic Four.” It was his most popular film at the time, but it wasn’t the type of movie I liked watching. But she had said it wasn’t like the typical superhero movie and Johnny Storm was “beyond hot” as the Human Torch. When I saw Chris’s face on my screen, it was like his broken promise was forgotten about. He was… handsome. He had always been good-looking but never like this. I had never seen him act so I didn’t know how good at it he was until that moment. His personality shined through the character, catching glimpses of the man I knew growing up. And in that moment, he wasn’t just “Chris Evans acting as the Human Torch,” he was just Chris: the man who had a piece of my heart that I would never get back.

For years I tried to forget about feeling like that. He was practically my older brother. Gross. But as I looked back on how he was with me, I knew there was something special between us. It’s like our souls were connected in a way that neither of us could have comprehended. And now it was like I recognized it, I saw that in him and I couldn’t ignore it. But I kept it to myself. No one knew of my feelings for him, not even my mom.

The next time I saw him was when my mom and I actually made it out there on my Spring break during my freshman year in college. We had already been there for a few days when he showed up unannounced. He had just wrapped filming for one of his movies and decided to surprise his family by coming home. To say, I was floored would be putting it lightly. Look-wise, he hadn’t changed at all, but there was also something very different about him. Maybe it was just me and my secret crush but he didn’t look like the guy I had grown up with. He was a handsome man who made my heart flip. And the fact that he kept his eyes on me the second he walked in didn’t make that any easier. Something shifted that day, but I thought it was only me. I stayed back to give Lisa and Carly time to greet him, hug him and bombard him with questions about what he was doing here, why he didn’t call, etc., but in my heart I wanted to run into his arms like I always had. The closer he got to me, the more I had to hold back. But when he held out his arms and asked if he could get a hug, it was like no time had passed. His strong arms wrapped themselves around me and I had never felt happier.

Our visit was way too short. Before we left, he pulled me aside and asked for my number so we could keep in contact. I was more than excited, but I immediately shut down any thought that he meant it as anything more than as a friend. He was a Hollywood star now with people throwing themselves at his feet…

And I thought that was bad. Fast forward a few years, after he had landed the leading role in Captain America, his life changed overnight. Everyone knew his name now. Countless people wanted to be with him. They shipped him with his co-stars, Hayley AND Sebastian. Under any other circumstance, he would have let his newfound fame get to his head. But he didn’t. He was still the kid from Boston that we all knew and loved.

He called me one day and invited me to the set of the Avengers movie he was doing. I was more than thrilled because he had never asked me to visit before. It was surreal. Seeing everything that went into that type of movie was amazing. And seeing Chris in his element was a phenomenal sight. I was there every day for a week, watching from the sidelines. 

I met all of the Avengers plus Samuel L. Jackson and Tom Hiddleston. Oh my gosh… To say I was a little overwhelmed would be a total fallacy. To be surrounded by so many brilliant actors and even better human beings was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I would never take advantage of. 

I talked mostly with RDJ, Scarlett, and Tom. RDJ treated me as a daughter almost instantly, always asking if I had needed anything or if I was having fun, cracking jokes about Chris behind his back, taking my side if there was ever a slight argument. He was absolutely amazing.

But then one day on set, while I was sitting in his chair, he approached me with a very blunt question that I never expected from him: “So, how long have you been in love with Evans?” I tried to hide it as best as I could, claiming we were just friends and that’s all, but he wasn’t buying it. “Are you really going to lie to me about this, sweetheart? It’s clearly written all over your face when you look at him.”

“Are you talking about her very obvious crush on Evans?” Scarlett popped up next to us with a smirk on her face. Scarlett was like the big sister I never got to have. She’d tease Chris just as much as I would in between takes, she’d give me the juicy set gossip, and we’d have lunch together when Chris couldn’t. I appreciated her company more than I imagined.

“See? Even she noticed.” Robert pointed to her before leaning on the arm of his chair with his back towards everyone else. “The only one who hasn’t is Chris but there’s an obvious reason there.”

“What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“Chris is just as in love with you as you are with him. He just is too chicken shit to say anything about it.” Scarlett’s name was called for the next scene so she had to take her leave.

“She’s right,” Robert confirmed, “he is. Chicken shit and everything.”

“You guys are delusional.” I peer down at my cuticles which are in dire need of picking at that very moment.

“Are we?” He calls for Ruffalo to come over for a second. All he says is Chris’s last name and then points at me. Mark agrees in a second without any other context. He asks Renner and Hemsworth along with Colbie and Clark the exact same question in the exact same way and they all answer the same way.

“You guys are mistaking familial love for romantic love. We’ve grown up together so there’s no way there’s anything more than that between us.” As those words left my mouth I knew I was lying. At least on my part. I still couldn’t believe that he felt that way towards me.

“Robert, you know it’s not nice to tease a lady.” Tom Hiddleston appears to my rescue fully dressed as the God of Mischief. And then there was Tom. Oh. My. Goodness. He was an absolute sweetheart which was the total opposite of his character Loki. The slight crush I had on him while watching Thor was immediately intensified upon meeting him in his Loki wardrobe. He was the perfect gentleman, too. He greeted me with a kiss on the cheek every morning, he offered me his arm when he was walking me around the set while the other Avengers were busy with their scenes, he’d make me swoon by just listening to him speak, and I’d full-body laugh whenever he’d tell a joke. Oh gosh, my heart was loving him.

“I’m not teasing. I would never tease her.” The sarcasm was dripping from his tone. “I’m just telling her what we all know and what she refuses to believe.” I know he means well, but I don’t think anyone could change my mind when it comes to how Chris feels about me.

“Come on, darling,” Tom reaches for my hand, gently pulling me out of the chair, “let’s go get some lunch.”

“Hey,” Robert stops me, “you know I only want what’s best for you, right?” His eyes soften as he can see that his words have slightly upset me. I nod. “Good.” He pulls me into a hug and kisses my temple. “You know we’re all right, though. It’s in his eyes when he looks at you.” He whispers to me before he’s called away and Tom escorts me to craft services.

“Am I blind?” I ask him when we’re away from everyone else. “Or am I the delusional one?”

He chuckles at me, “No, my sweet, you are not either of those things.”

“But?” I ask feeling like there was going to be one at the end of his sentence.

“You may not be blind or delusional, however,” he continues with a fancier version of what I was expecting, “I don’t think you’re really seeing. You’re looking at him, but I don’t think you’re truly seeing the way he looks at you.”

“Great,” I sigh, “so I’m an idiot.”

“You are not an idiot. You are a hopeless romantic with a heart of gold.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder in comfort. “It’ll be alright, darling.”

We quietly ate our lunch until Tom was called back to set, giving me a kiss on the cheek before he left. I resumed enjoying the rare alone moment. I tried to think about the last few years whenever I saw Chris. It wasn’t often but whenever we did see each other, his hugs seemed to linger a little more than before, he seemed to try to keep our conversations going just a little longer, and he would make up any excuse to sit by me… How was I just noticing all of this now? Was I really that blind to it?

I thought they were just teasing me. They all knew of my feelings for him, no matter how many times I tried to deny it, so I figured they were just treating me like the new kid on set, but after that lunch, I watched Chris do a scene and as soon as Joss called “cut,” his eyes would search until they found me. The smile that would adorn his face spoke volumes, but not of the romantic love.. I could see. I could see it all and they were all wrong.

If he felt that way, why wouldn’t he say anything? I’m his best friend. He can tell me anything. Why would this be any different?

For five years, Tom and I would hang out and he would try and help me forget about my unrequited love towards my best friend. It would help for a while but the second I would drive up to Chris’s house again, all memories Tom and I made would take a backseat.

After a little public stint with a singer who shall not be named, he came up with an idea: pretend to date in front of Chris. He cared for me enough that he could see how crazy I was about Chris and he wanted to help him to realize that I won’t always be there waiting for him. He was just finishing up his latest movie so we figured that would be the best time to come out with it. I hated lying to my best friend. But if lying helps even in the slightest, it’d be worth it.

When I told him, my heart broke into a million pieces at his reaction. He tried to hide the sudden sadness in his eyes by quickly masking it with surprise and then joy. But I knew him better than that. He couldn’t hide that strong of an emotion from me. Why would he have been upset though? Could everyone have been right about him all along?

I asked him if he would hang out with us now that Tom is “officially” my “boyfriend” hoping that once he saw me with someone else, he’d say something. He seemed closed off during the meeting, but I attributed it to him thinking about his next movie. He and Tom had always gotten along so I didn’t understand why he couldn’t push that aside to have a nice time with us.

While he was away, rumors started to spread that he and his co-star had also started a relationship. I didn’t want to believe it. He’d dated other women before but those were just flings. He never confirmed those relationships either. He always let people speculate. I didn’t want to believe that this girl had changed that.

It wasn’t until he got back to LA with the cutest dog I’ve ever seen in my entire life that he confirmed my nightmare. I tried to be happy for him. I really did. He deserved to be happy even if it wasn’t with me. He deserved someone who could be honest with him...

I ultimately made the decision to move out of his house after walking in on them making out on the couch. I didn’t want another incident like that to happen ever again. My heart could not take it. So in order to protect it, I left. Leaving him and Dodger was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I wanted to go back home, but my job kept me here. I ended up renting a one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment a few miles away. It actually made my commute to work easier so it was a better situation altogether.

Three years passed and nothing had changed. Chris’s relationship lasted a majority of that but with the end of his Marvel contract nearing soon, he seemed more focused on his career than dating. I wasn’t surprised in the slightest. He’s a very career-oriented and an independent man, but deep down inside I know he wants a family. He wants a traditional life with family traditions like decorating the tree at Christmas and Family game nights. I know he has yearned for that connection with someone, even when he’s tried to hide it. 

In those three years, Tom and I kept up with our plan. We weren’t public about it, but all of our close family and friends knew about it. Everyone but Chris knew the truth. He never suspected anything and he never said a thing about it…

Until he came to my apartment at 3 o’clock in the morning, plastered.

All night I sat up on my loveseat, watching him.

All this time, he actually did feel the same way about me as I did him. For years, he’s harbored these feelings of love for me and I had no idea. I wanted to tell him the whole truth but not while he was inebriated. He needed a clear head which is why I’m waiting.

I text Tom, knowing he’s in London and awake by now. I ask him what exactly he said to my drunk and seemingly broken-hearted best friend. I know that’s what this was all about. Tom must have said something to Chris to make him quite literally crack. Tom’s one emoji response told me everything I needed to know. Chris’s fear of losing me forever makes all of the sense in the world now.

So I laid and waited, getting some work done while consuming some caffeine to stay awake until he decides to wake up. I know it won’t be pretty so I set out a trash bin by his head and a glass of water with some aspirin on my coffee table for the massive hangover he’s bound to have when he inevitably does wake up.

His groans breaking the silence let me know when he was indeed returning to the land of the conscious. “Oh God,” he grunts as everything from last night starts to hit him.

“Trash bin by your head.” I tell him as I saw him looking around for one out of the corner of my eye. On cue, he lurched over and emptied the contents of his stomach into the bin. Thankfully I was far enough away so I didn’t smell it. I would be joining him too if I even caught a whiff of it. When he finally sat back, I continued my instructions, “Aspirin and water are on the coffee table.” He immediately grabbed both, gulping it down after popping the pills. “Extra toothbrush is in the bathroom.”

“I’ll get to that,” He winces as he leans back once again, “when the room stops spinning.” He groans again, covering his face with a pillow to shield the light.

I took that as my cue to brew him some coffee. I traded him for the pillow when it was finished. It took him two cups to finally sit up completely. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face. I sat on the table in front of him after handing him his third cup. He nursed the cup refusing to make eye contact with me.

“Did you stay up all night?” He asks eyeing where I was sat, knowing me well enough to know I would never be up this early unless I never went to bed in the first place.

“We need to talk about last night.” I ignored his question, speaking quietly not wanting to irritate the pounding in his head. He nods, knowing that this conversation was inevitable. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was going to, but then you and Tom and I met Jenny…” he drifted off seeming like he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. “I didn’t want to ruin anything, between us or otherwise.”

“I really wish you would have said something…” I take a deep breath, bracing myself for his reaction for what I’m about to tell him. I hoped he wouldn’t be mad, but I’d understand if he would be. “… because Tom and I aren’t really dating.”

His head snapped up so quickly, I’d be surprised if he didn’t get whiplash. “What?”

“He’s a phenomenal guy, but there’s never been anything more than friendship with him. He’s become one of my best friends, only third to you and Scott though.” I smirked trying to make light of the situation.

But by the flabbergasted look on his face- mouth slightly open, brows furrowed, eyes barely blinking- he couldn’t believe what I was saying. Even a brilliant man such as Chris is having a hard time processing this. I gave him time to, waiting for him to say something.

“Why?” was the first thing he asked. Since it was a vague question, I tried to answer as many of the “whys” there would be. From why we did it in the first place to why I didn’t tell him and why I lied to him as well as why nothing ever happened between me and Tom…

That one was the easiest to answer. “Nothing like that ever happened between us because he’s known from the beginning that my heart would always be with someone else.” I made sure to maintain eye contact with him through it all so he would know that I was being 100% truthful. I needed him to know that despite the lies I told about my fake relationship, I have never lied to him about anything else and I will never lie to him again.

“If all of it was fake then why did he ask me about how he should propose to you?” was his next question. He’s been quietly listening as I’ve tried to explain it all. I know this was a loaded question that was coming.

“Tom is one of the biggest romantics I know, do you honestly think he would need help with planning one of the most romantic gestures one can make?” I asked back, trying to get him to think about his question for a second.

I could see the wheels turning in his head until it dawned on him. He didn’t need help at all. “He wanted a reaction out of me.” He concludes running his hands down his face again.

“I can promise you, Chris that I had nothing to do with him asking you about that. I figured he’d said something to get that reaction out of you, but I never expected it to have been… that. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” he protested, taking both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over my knuckles, “please don’t be sorry. If I had told you sooner, none of this would have happened. I just…” he squeezed my hands a little tighter, “I couldn’t let you go any further into that relationship without telling you the truth.”

“When did you know?” This was the one burning question I was dying to ask. I needed to know which moment it was for him where he realized his feelings. I needed to know what moment was so significant to him that it changed his mind about me.

“I first noticed a difference when my mom sent me one of your senior pictures. You weren’t the little girl I remembered you to be. You were so… beautiful. I couldn’t believe it.” A small smile cracked his serious demeanor. “And then I knew it wasn’t just a simple crush when I saw you after that. You quite literally took my breath away.” He chuckled at the memory. “And looking back now, I realize there was always something between us, but never in a million years did I think it would turn into this.”

“You got that right,” I concur. Never did I think I would be head over heels with the guy who helped teach me how to ride a bike and wouldn’t give up until I was as fast as him and his friends, who also pushed me around in the toy Jeep I had gotten for my birthday until our parents made us come inside, who protected me during the thunderstorms I was terrified of as a child… there was a special connection between us. Who would have thought it would evolve to something like this?

“When did you?” He asks looking so deeply into my eyes I swear he can read my soul.

I giggled at the memory. “I was sixteen. My friend made me watch Fantastic Four.” He full-on laughed at the mention of that movie. He dropped my left hand so he could grab his left pec. “Stop laughing at me, you jerk!” As hard as I tried, I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. That kind of laugh was contagious. It wasn’t until we calmed down that I continued, “And I don’t know. Something inside me just… clicked. That was it for me. I’ve been keeping it a secret ever since then.” I shook my head at how ridiculous we’ve both been. “But I think I’ve been in love with you for my entire life. I just didn’t know what it meant until then.”

He stares at our still joined hands, “We’ve been keeping the biggest secret from the other for so long, neither of us knowing that sharing said secret would be exactly what we wanted to hear.”

I continue, “Neither of us wanting to risk ruining our decades long friendship in case the other didn’t feel the same way.” We chuckled at how much we thought alike.

“So,” he cradles my cheek with his hand, I lean into his warm gentle touch, “where do we go from here?”

“Well I think you need some more sleep to get rid of your hangover and I need to actually get some sleep.” I stand up, “Come on.” I drag him off of the couch and into my bedroom. 

He teases me as he wraps his arms around me from behind, “I’ve dreamed of this day for years.”

I burst out laughing at how alike we thought in that exact moment. I must be tired. I playfully shove him onto the bed, not feeling an ounce of guilt when he winces in pain from his still-throbbing head. “We are just sleeping, mister.” I climb in next to him, turning my back to him. We both lay there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. So I take initiative, reaching behind me and grabbing his arm, bringing it around my waist. He giggles as he scoots until he’s spooning me.

He hums in satisfaction. “Just so you know,” he leans into my ear and whispers, “I love you.”

The smile on my face can’t be denied. I’m thankful he can’t see. “I love you.” I whisper back before we drift off into silence.

The last thing we both think about before we succumb to our exhaustion is this… RDJ was right and he will never let us live this down.

Tags: @the-marvel-wars @elusive-beauty @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @drakesfiance

[iamartemisday]

Pepperony Week Day One- 5+1 Things

A/N: So I posted this last night, but I was informed that one of my tags wasn’t spelled correctly. Somehow, in my attempts to fix it, I managed to erase the entire post. That’s what I get for trying to fix it on mobile. >>

So here we go one more time. Hope you enjoy!

**

5 times Tony didn't realize he was in love with Pepper, and 1 time he did.

When Tony made a random low-level administrative assistant his new PA, it was mostly for the novelty.

Here was a woman confident enough to break into his office and tell him to his face that he was wrong. Observant enough to catch a mistake not even he, the guy who built a working robot before his balls dropped, had spotted.

Plus, she was a former model. In magazines and everything. Whoever said models were dumb could go eat their ignorant words with some ketchup on top.

Virginia Potts, newly baptized as Pepper, spent her first day on the job familiarizing herself with her new responsibilities, organizing the photos on her desk, and signing a truly immense amount of paperwork. Seriously, Tony had to talk to Obidiah about switching to digital. What kind of futurist was he killing all those defenseless trees?

Given his track record with PAs, he expected Ms. Potts to last a month, maybe two. Not a crack against her, but he was a handful and he knew it. When she inevitably quit, he'd have a generous severance package and a glowing reference ready for her. Now it was just a matter of how long before his partying, all-night science binges, and frequent overnight guests of the female variety wore her down.

Three months later, she was in his office while he slept off a hangover, notes in hand as she briefed him on the upcoming board meeting.

"Mr. Daniels in HR needs to talk to you about calculating this year's Christmas bonuses. Mrs. Prowitt in accounting just had a baby and you need to send out your personal congratulations-"

"Potts…"

"You still have paperwork to sign for the merger with Rushcorp-"

"Potts, please…"

"And R&D has taken issue with the blueprints you gave them for the new missile prototype. They're saying the flight system isn't feasible with our current technology. You might want to have a word with them."

"Potts! I'm dying!"

He struggled to lift his head and look into her eyes with all the pain in his formerly inebriated soul. As usual, she was unsympathetic.

"This is why I told you not to go out partying on a Tuesday night," she said.

"As if you never partied on a Tuesday."

"No, Mr. Stark, I didn't. I waited for the weekend." She started for the door. "I'll get you some water and ginger ale. You'll be ready to go by noon."

"I could also not go."

"That's true, but you will" Her phone rang and she ignored Tony's moaning to answer it. "Hello? Oh, yes Mr. Daniels, I was just about to call you… yes, he will be ready in time for the meeting. I just confirmed it with him."

She left and Tony whimpered in agony. This must be what abandoned kittens on the side of the road felt like.

"I thought I hired an assistant," he mumbled. "Instead I got a new mom."

He almost immediately cringed at the idea. Potts was not at all like his mother. She wasn't even a really strict big sister.

No, she was something else. Something he couldn't pinpoint.

Boy, did he hate not knowing the answer.

**

"Potts, we should go out sometime."

Surprisingly, he wasn't drunk. In fact, he'd been sober for the last six days while they negotiated a contract with a new satellite company. That was a personal best for him and he deserved some recognition, dammit.

"We are out," she said, and indeed they were in the lounge at the Plaza hotel waiting for their drinks to arrive.

"I mean on a date," Tony said. "You know, with dinner and dancing and no business deals. Just the two of us."

Pepper sighed like this wasn't the first time he'd asked. And, to be fair, it wasn't. "Mr. Stark, you know why we can't date."

"Do I? Remind me real quick."

She rolled her eyes. "First of all, it's against company policy. Even if I didn't work directly under you, we're still in the same department and fraternization among employees never works out well. Second, dating your PA would reflect badly on us with the press. Finally, maintaining a professional environment in the workplace is crucial to overall productivity and good financial health."

Tony whistled. "Lot of big words there. You've done your homework, Potts."

"I have to," she said, but couldn't hide a slight smile. "If I don't, who will?"

"Good point." Tony leaned back with his hands under his hand. "It's funny, though. I didn't hear anything in there about you not wanting to date me."

Pepper opened her mouth, but none of her pre-established responses to his flirting came forth. Instead, she blushed heavily and turned away to tap on her phone.

Tony chuckled to himself. She was kind of cute when she was flustered.

Not that she wasn't always cute, but…

**

Even though Pepper wouldn't date him (and all jokes aside he did begrudgingly see her point), that didn't mean she wouldn't date at all.

Five years had passed since the pepper spray incident. There had been a few guys in that time, or so he assumed. He was too busy keeping track of his own one night stands to pay attention to Pepper's.

One day, out of the blue, she asked to leave work two hours early. The last time she did that was three years ago.

"Hitting the town, Potts?" He meant it as a joke, but also not. Tony wasn't a genius for nothing and he'd noticed the changes in her make-up and the unfamiliar perfume lingering in the air.

Pepper cleared her throat. "As a matter of fact, yes. I'm going on a date tonight and I need to get my hair done."

He wanted to say her hair was perfect the way it was because it was perfect and whoever this guy was probably didn't even notice. He also wanted to say he needed her to stay late because they had some extra paperwork to go through. Surely he had something buried in one of his desk drawers for her to look at.

"Oh, that's nice," he said, leaning back in his big plush chair. "Didn't know you were seeing someone."

"We're casual at the moment."

"Just looking for a midnight ride, huh?"

Pepper glared at him, but it wasn't her offended face. More like her 'I think you're funny but I'm not going to say it because that will just fuel your ego so I'm going to pretend to be offended' face. He'd become an expert in differentiating between the two.

"I'll be sure to have all my tasks done before I leave," she said.

"As if you need to tell me," Tony snorted. He read some papers while Pepper went to her office. Fifteen minutes later, he was still on the same paragraph and needed to stretch his legs. "So… what's his name?"

Pepper glanced at him, then went back to typing. "Craig."

Craig and Pepper… Crepper?

God no...

"What's he do?" Tony fought to keep his posture loose. "Let me guess. He's a genius billionaire in charge of his own company-"

"He's an investment banker."

"Fun. Where are you going?"

"To dinner and maybe a movie."

"You know what you're going to see?"

"We'll decide when we get there." The intercom beeped and Pepper pressed the button to silence it. "Looks like your two-thirty is here."

Tony barely paid attention during his appointment with… whoever this guy was. Something something missile guidance revamping something. His eyes always trailed back to Pepper behind a wall of glass. When she left for the night, he hung around for half an hour before going home. It was just too quiet without her.

A few months later, Pepper asked for another early day.

"Sure thing," Tony said, chewing on his bottom lip. "Got a hot date with Craig?"

"No, just dinner with my parents. It's my mom's birthday tomorrow," she explained. "Actually, Craig and I decided to just be friends. I think he's seeing someone else now."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

Tony tried his best not to grin as he said it, but he was grinning for the whole rest of the day.

**

After Tony completed renovations of his Malibu home, he started doing more work from home. This meant Pepper had to come over more often than not. Aside from a requisite 'want to see the master bedroom' quip, Tony had allowed her space in his massive home. She had an office and a guest room complete with a private balcony for when she wanted to work outside.

Being as she was, most of their private time centered around business. Making deals, planning meetings, arranging his schedule, and lots of other fun and exciting activities. On weekdays, she arrived promptly in the morning and left before sundown. Unless it was quarterly report time or they were on the verge of closing a huge deal, she never deviated from this schedule.

So it was strange when he left the basement one night at midnight after five hours working on his new convertible to find Pepper asleep on the couch.

Her tablet and some papers were on the floor where she'd dropped them. One arm was tucked under her head, no pillows in sight. She'd taken her shoes off, and while Tony was no foot fetishist, her new pedicure was lovely.

She sighed and shifted in her sleep as Tony gently squeezed a throw pillow under her head and draped a blanket over her. He would've carried her to the guest room, but Pepper was typically a light sleeper and putting her in an awkward position might mean she wouldn't come over as much.

He gathered her things and stacked them neatly on the coffee table. Hopefully, those pages were in the correct order, but if they weren't, she'd have them right in under a second.

Tony stepped back to watch her chest rise and fall. Her face was so peaceful. Not like the cool serenity she used to calmly destroy brown-nosing idiots at meetings. It was like he was finally seeing Pepper in her natural state of being.

He liked it.

But of course, he liked it. He liked her.

And maybe he shouldn't be staring at her while she slept. That was kind of creepy.

**

He was never going to see Pepper again.

'No,' he told himself, 'don't do that. Stay positive. Stay positive.'

The problem with staying positive is that it's hard to do when you're running through the desert with no food or water and you've just escaped captivity and watched the man you spent three months forming an emotional bond with die before your eyes.

Suffice to say, this was not Tony's day.

He'd only briefly considered what would happen if the escape was successful. Best case scenario, he got himself and Yinsen out and they found a village less than a mile away with friendly locals who had food and a satellite phone handy. With both of those things now off the table, Tony stumbled through the sand, careful not to run too fast and waste energy. If he had to guess, the temperature was roughly a thousand degrees Fahrenheit. He'd probably sweated another five pounds off.

The one good thing about being lost in the desert was it gave him time to think. About all his mistakes and all his missteps. All the things he never realized he should've done.

He should've told Rhodey how much their friendship meant to him. Tony had been a pain in his ass since college and yet Rhodes never abandoned him.

He should've told his father he loved him. Twenty years he spent ignoring and pushing away that one simple truth, and now he couldn't avoid it. Howard Stark was an asshole, but so was Tony Stark. Like father, like son as they say.

He should've told Pepper… God, the things he should've told Pepper. Listing them would kill hours of time while the elements slowly killed him. He should've told her how important she was, not just to Stark Industries, but to him. How much he appreciated everything she did for him. How happy he was to see her every morning. How thankful he was that she didn't quit after two months and take that severance package. How much better she deserved than to be in his shadow. How much he truly cared about her from the bottom of his heart.

How much he…

God, this heat was unbearable. Couldn't even think straight.

When he saw her again after hours in an air-conditioned plane, being fed jello packets and wanting nothing more than a hunk of real meat, none of what he should've said came to mind.

"Your eyes are red. A few tears for your long lost boss?"

It would have to do.

**

It should've been another quiet post-return evening in.

Tony didn't feel like flying that night, otherwise, he'd be out on the town already. The plan was to watch cheesy sci-fi movies and laugh at all the mistakes until he fell asleep. Now he was trapped in his own body, eyes unable to close, mouth unable to open. He stared up at a monster wearing a familiar face as he literally ripped his heart out.

"Oh Tony, this is your ninth symphony," Obidiah said, among other bullshit villain monologue crap Tony couldn't hear over his own internal screaming. "This is your legacy. A new generation of weapons with this at its heart."

'Fuck you,' Tony wanted so badly to say. 'Fuck you, you lying son of a bitch. Fuck you fuck you fuck you-'

"Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would've preferred that she'd live."

Someone once said there were five or six profound moments in everyone's life. Tony didn't know who that someone was or if he didn't just make that whole thing up in his head. Whatever the case, this was one of those moments.

Never before had he wanted so badly to kill someone. Not just kill them, but make them suffer the worst sort of torment. He wanted to rip Stane apart with his bare hands, destroy him from the inside out. Make him regret even thinking about threatening Pepper.

He focused all his strength on his legs, making his toes wiggle. The ringing in his ears was fading, but not fast enough.

'You can do this,' said the voice of Pepper in his ears. 'You can do this.'

His fingers twitched and he slowly clenched a fist.

He wouldn't lose one more person he loved.

[fluorescentpipedream]

Been learning some things about Dayton the last few days 

It’s a little long so I don’t want to clog up anyone’s feeds

Details:

Age: 43

Family: 

Parents - Abigail and Ethan Foster. Sibling: Charlotte,Lottie (25)

His parents are still alive though they don’t really acknowledge him much.

His little sister, Lottie, comes to visit him sometimes. She makes jewelry out of recycled materials and gave her brother an earring she made of a broken beer bottle, repurposed as a diamond. He wears it on the right side, though when asked why he only has one, he says “she knows I’ll lose the other one, so this way it’s more special” 

He has said he’s a little jealous of his younger sister because “she gets to be normal, and our parents hate that there’s nothing of hers that can capitalize on. Her jewelry business is a fun thing to put her through college, they can’t steal her fortunes and lie to her that it’s in her best interest. I’m envious of her because of her normalcy. How stupid is that?”

Relationships:

Dayton was married when he had his seizure, his husband divorced him shortly after the incident, not being willing to take care of him. 

He’s had a few girlfriends but he seems to prefer the company of men

About:

Dayton is highly dependent on drugs and/or alcohol to get by on the outside world because he just can’t seem to function without them when he’s trying to live on his own. He’s lived at the Center in the French Quarter off and on for 4 years, before that taking a stint in jail for public urination and intoxication. He also spit on the arresting officer. Writing about the incident later by saying “he finds it odd that Mardi Gras is legal public drunkenness for the amusement of all but only a few days after, in the stench of Bourbon Street’s parties where trickles of human depravity are being washed from the street, suddenly it’s deplorable and must be cleansed from sight. Though they might have gone easier on me if I hadn’t spit in the cop’s face. Oh well.”

Dayton’s initial slip into this strange state was after a seizure caused by his excessive drinking. The world was easier to handle if he was drunk or high all the time, he didn’t feel like he had to be as smart as he is, when he was riding a drug high. He collapsed at a Mensa event when he was 32, and during the grand mal seizure caused brain damage and for his IQ to slip from the 200s and down into a more average number. He still seems to be very intelligent, though he doesn’t really draw attention to it anymore. After his husband left him, he had apparently only shrugged, taking his ring off and handed it to his little sister, telling her “unconditional love is a joke”

The relationship with his parents finally came to light as well, and he outright told the first social worker when they had suggested he could recover in his parent’s care that they wouldn’t actually care for him anymore. Their free ride now had strings attached and he doubted that they could stand to care for him, since he was pushed to always provide for himself, since he was “smart enough”

He has the potential to live on his own, he just doesn’t have much of a drive to do so. When he’s left on his own he gets distracted and forgets to do even the most basic tasks. He means he forgets to eat, sleep, etc. At the Center, “I’m safe from myself”

Personality:

Self-loathing and tends to put himself down a lot

Suicidal although Lottie seems to be the only reason he won’t go through with killing himself, he loves her too much to leave her with that stigma of “genius brother takes his own life following years of drug and alcohol abuse

A very dark and, at times, unsettling sense of humor. It makes people uncomfortable and his general disinterest in people’s reactions make it worse

“Former” sex addict...he puts it in quotes. As long as he’s not drinking or using drugs he tends to abstain from dangerous sexual liaisons but once he’s under the influence it’s whatever, with whoever and however they choose. “I’m surprised I’m not infected yet”

He’s been with both men and woman and has no preference towards either. “It would be nice to have someone love me...I’m not in a position where I could be the one providing care to another, sadly dealing with me may be a full time job and not one most people are equipped for. I won’t “get better” over time, and crave companionship sometimes even over the obsessive desire to fade from this world”

Interests:

Serial killers. He absently makes profiles for those he reads about or watches reports on TV. He frequents websites that have details on true crime and likes to try to figure out cold cases, for fun. He’s actually figured out several, calling in anonymous tips to hotlines.

-Seriously- considering typing up his profile for the serial killer in San Francisco (Paul) and sending it to Theo deWinter, the agent on the case. He’d learned about the case online and after reading what he could find about the murders and the way the bodies are discovered, he really does want to help. He is concerned they wouldn’t take much consideration in the profile though because of his current mental state. It might hurt his credibility. Still, he says “better not eat anything you buy from Rascal Butcher shop on Main” 

Piano, originally it was something he was forced into learning but now that he’s older he enjoys it quite a bit more. He sometimes sits in the grand entrance of the Center and plays on nice days

Writing. Kind of like a cross between Dean Koontz and Stephen King with some Lovecraft like monsters in there. He posts some of his shorter pieces on his blog

Has a tumblr blog called A Damaged Beautiful Mind. Most of the time he answers questions but a few years ago he wrote a rather long post about the inability for criminals, drug addicts and generally anyone who has been arrested to vote in national elections explains a lot about how the entire system is set up so only the elite are allowed to partake (excerpt at the end)

He loves watching psychological thrillers, horror movies and true crime documentaries

He used to want to be a federal profiler and even has degrees in forensic psychology and criminal law

Connections:

Arthur Powell sometimes invites him over for dinner in his room at the center.

He told Arthur he really liked his sister, Frankie once, promising it was “nothing creepy” he just thought she had a beautiful soul and her amazing talent was going to take her places. Arthur has her make him a mirror glaze birthday cake this year that was too beautiful to eat (he did though, only when Lottie came to spend the day with him and she cut into it after taking a picture of it with his phone.)

One of the orderlies brings him coffee and beignets on Saturdays and they talk. Dayton generally believes they’re just checking up on him to make sure he’s had a shower or eaten something recently.

Doctor Snow is his therapist, though lately he feels like he has to search for things to discuss with her. She’s expecting her first child, so the visits are brief and involves how he’s feeling, if he’s still having suicidal thoughts...etc.

He used to be a bit of a lech, being Mike Tomlin’s first foray into gay sex, pinning him to a wall at the Mensa event, the same night as his seizure.

Excerpt from his latest blog entry about election and voting rights, or rather the lack thereof

Any system which segregates the unmentionables and undesirables from the view of the rest only perpetuates the degeneration we’ve been seeing as a whole in this nation. It’s “progress” that the United States lived in a seemingly “Golden Age” under Barack Obama, but if one were to pull back the veil they need only skim the surface to realize, that was a moment of lapse, before the true waves of deceit, corruption and greed rushed back in again.

The years that Obama served in the White House only appear now as the receding of water before the inevitable tsunami. As a nation, we will always boil back down to the nagging truth of George Orwell in Animal Farm; “all animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others” Those that are detestable, or deemed unworthy by social standards, like any number of the “criminals” locked away for crimes enumeration, have been stripped of their ability to stand up for their beliefs.

Their voices are silenced, because by daring to stand against the societal norm, to lash out at the Thomas Moore, Utopian falsehood of America, they proclaimed loudly that the world is not only unfair, but stacked against us from the moment we take our first breaths. Were the US to return rights to the seemingly uneducated, drains on society, they would see real change. But that, in the essence of the truly corrupt leading the imbecilic masses, will never be the case. These commanding forces, like Nero the pig, would rather lead the masses into decisions that have been made for them all the while claiming that it is the people who lead themselves to this. And he can fix it all.

[kathyprior4200]

Hazbin Hotel: Summary of the Future

If Hazbin Hotel had a happy ending and the series continued...here’s how I idealize it...

Not too long ago, the blonde, white-faced Princess Charlie decided to propose an idea that was downright ridiculous and outlandish to everyone else. She created the Happy Hotel as a place where sinners could learn how to be better people and hopefully, complete their own unique journeys toward redemption. Though Charlie was mocked and ridiculed, she wasn’t going to give up. A gray moth-like demon named Vaggie was her girlfriend and tough with a deadly spear. Angel Dust, a white porn-loving spider demon had been involved with drugs, turf wars, and was Hell’s number one porn star. Despite his sins, he had volunteered to help Charlie with her hotel and became her first client.

 Alastor had arrived to the hotel as well, and offered to help Charlie run her hotel so he could be entertained for a while. He summoned other demons for assistance: a little hyperactive neat-freak cyclops named Niffty, and a grumpy gambling cat named Husk who always had a bottle of alcohol in his paws. Charlie was immediately enraptured with Alastor, even dancing and singing with him whenever the occasion arose. Vaggie, of course, was suspicious of him, even more so when he appeared to hinder Vaggie and Charlie’s relationship.

 Charlie’s hope was that demons would be redeemed enough to be eligible to go to Heaven. This way, there would be less demons lost to the annual slaughter by the Archangels. Soon, she had hoped, there would only be happiness and a second chance given to everyone. In her own words and in her song, “Inside of every demon is a rainbow.” Lilith was often too busy with modeling and concerts to pay much attention to Charlie, but supported her the best she could. For obvious reasons, her father had disapproved of her idea. Having been banished from Heaven for rebelling against God, Lucifer gained his position by implementing fear and using his destructive powers. The Archangels spared the royal family in return for Lucifer letting them kill off the “common scum folk.” If demons were to leave, it could lead to a war between Heaven and Hell if the circumstances did not go well.

 Indeed, things had gone from bad to worse. It started off with Alastor causing mischief barely noticed by anyone, save for Vaggie and Husk. He had changed the hotel name to the Hazbin Hotel. It was the little things he did: igniting a brawl here, encourage a bad rating there, all while keeping up appearances and encouraging the princess to work harder toward her goal.

 It was speculated by many that Alastor actually wanted Charlie to succeed. The pretty blonde demon/angel hybrid had caught his eye when he first saw her on TV. Although he wasn’t interested in sex or romance, he did enjoy fun affectionate friendships…provided they benefited him and his goals. In fact, he was friends with many individuals, particularly Charlie, Rosie, Mimzy, Husk, and Niffty.

 After many months of hard work, battles with evil overlords, parental brawls, and drama, many demons had been successfully rehabilitated, including Vaggie, Angel Dust and his twin sister, Molly. They had defeated/humiliated the maniac snake villain Sir Pentious, outsmarted the evil fish scientist Baxter, bested the evil Vs, (Valentino, Vox, and Velvet), along with saving themselves from more angels. Angel, Molly, Crymini, and Cherri Bomb had been active fighters when they weren’t hooked on meth or doing pole dancing for the lustful crowds. Husk slowly got out of his dark shell, made amends with his past and slowly started to warm up to everyone. Niffty got delusional in her fantasies of romance, men and power as she cooked, sewed, and cleaned. Whether she was redeemed and remained cute or turned psychotic…no one really knows. Charlie and the others were ready to reach the golden heavenly gates and change their afterlives…

 Unfortunately, the angels in Heaven weren’t so keen to let any sinners enter Heaven so easily. They told Molly that she could enter as she wasn’t a demon, and Vaggie could enter if she took on penance and renounced her sins. Elite and entitled, the angels shooed Charlie, Niffty, Husk, Alastor, Angel and several others away, even sending some Archangels after them. Charlie and Lucifer blasted the angels back with their powers, saving the demon group and escaping back to Hell. But her actions caused inner mental concerns for her parents, God and the angels. God suspected that Charlie and Lucifer were trying to upstage Heaven’s duties and traditions. No matter what, Hell’s population would continue to grow, and surely the angels would be outnumbered if a war were to begin.

 Charlie’s parents were not happy that Charlie had broken up with Seviathan Von Eldritch (like Leviathan the sea monster), Helsa’s brother and member of a wealthy rival family. She and Helsa were already fierce rivals, both families competing to be the most influential in Hell. In addition, they were getting tired of Charlie’s pursuit and wanted her to conform to Hell’s standards. Being a fearsome leader was, according to her father, Charlie’s destiny. After arguing with her parents and refusing to give up, Charlie had gone to Vaggie and Alastor for comfort. Vaggie comforted her and told her the harsh reality of the situation. Still, she refused to give up, despite feeling like a failure. Charlie decided to figure out a way to negotiate with her parents and the angels. Before she could proceed further however, Alastor comforted her with his velvety announcer voice and took her arm in arm for a walk.

 The two of them sang, and danced, and even shared a kiss. Charlie felt like Alastor was redeeming himself and that things would be alright in the end.

 It was at that optimal moment, that the predatory Radio Demon pounced upon his gullible prey.

 Taken by surprise by surrounding voodoo spirits and black tentacles, Charlie fought back as much as she could. But a Creole lullaby sung by Alastor soon rendered her helpless. Charlie was kidnapped and briefly held hostage in Alastor’s lair. No rape or beating was involved, just a bunch of creepy touching and mind manipulating. He didn’t possess her but did manage to get her on his side when they were face to face with the king and queen. Alastor’s evil shadow held an angel’s spear to Charlie’s throat, a weapon capable of killing any demon. Alastor knew that his powers would not be enough against Lucifer. So he did the one thing to catch him off-guard: go for his child.

 Alastor soon proposed a deal with Lucifer and Lilith: Charlie and her hotel would be spared…in exchange for the throne. Lucifer accepted…and soon found his dark powers depleted, traveling into Alastor’s microphone staff. He and the dark spirits were now free to take over Hell, cause chaos and feast on innocent demon bodies and souls.

 It was at this moment that Alastor had a choice to make…one that could determine the fate of Hell itself. His mother was currently in Heaven, and he hadn’t seen her for decades. For a brief moment, Alastor saw Charlie and her friends struggling against the Exterminators…even Lucifer and Lilith were having a hard time. He could either give into his evil carnal desires; claiming Hell and its denizens as his own. Or he could step in, save Charlie and the others (while giving back Lucifer’s power and everyone’s free will.) He could free Husk and Niffty from their servitude to him, deeply apologize and help save the day.

 If Alastor followed the good path, Charlie would be successful at last. A negotiation would be made: sinners could go to Heaven after proving themselves worthy in different ways. Some would go into rehabilitation at the hotel. Others would have to go through punishments in the other circles of Hell. Some would even be tested and “relive” their lives as humans in simulated scenarios of their former past. God also stated that all his subjects would have the choice to die a second time in the void…and that second death was still possible and unpredictable. Aside from God, and the long-living angels and deities, no one is truly immortal.

 If Charlie’s plan succeeded, then the rewards would all be worth it.

 Charlie and Vaggie would be happily married in Heaven, with their friends beside them in different forms as angels. Were they animal? Or human? Or a fusion of both? Vaggie transformed into a black-haired human women she had been before, save for her one eye and new black glistening moth wings from her back. Her human voice had returned to her and she discovered her human name: Vagatha. Husk remained a cat but with black angel wings instead of red wings with card suits on them. He found love in Heaven and discovered his human name: Hustle. If Niffty turned good, she, too would be happy and cheerful, resembling her human form more. If Baxter turned good, he would use his intelligence to make inventions and heal others with science. Alastor’s suit became light blue, white and brown, his human voice returned, and his head was now that of a red male deer. He and his dark-skinned mother embraced for a long time, bringing Charlie and the others to happy tears. Angel Dust discovered his true name; Anthony, and his face turned more human, though his hair was still white and he still had jumping/fighting abilities. He agreed to do porn/drugs outside of Heaven and only on occasion. Vaggie reunited with her family, while Angel, Molly and Aracknis spend time with their mother, Aranea (Latin for spider). (Their father Henroin was abusive).

Charlie served as a mediator between Heaven and Hell, she was half Angel and half Demon, after all. Her parents stayed and ruled Hell but the royal family could visit each other every other month. Vaggie advocated for women and Hispanic souls…and violent souls who had been wronged in life.

Angel Dust and his siblings were still very much troublemakers, but they started to mend old wounds from their times of being Italian mafia members and drug abusers. Both Husk and Angel were mentors for kids who came into Heaven, and also took care of pets and animals that died on Earth.

Alastor hosted new radio shows complete with dad jokes, New Orleans’ jazz and listings of Creole food recipes. (He still has to be reminded not to announce gruesome murders nor to perform any…he had to get used to not having dark powers anymore.) He ate pork and meat in replacement of demon/human flesh, for despite having the head and features of a deer, his new teeth were human and fairly sharp. In Heaven, his friendship with Charlie was finally genuine and they bonded deeper than ever before. Alastor not only became her close friend, but also her protector (along with Razzle and Dazzle) and even a loving father figure (Lucifer still doesn’t approve very much).

Yes, there were tons of bad people who still went to Hell, did bad things and lost their lives into the void. But for every bad action, there was a sliver of hope for good to prevail.

 For their final act, everyone would join hands together, singing in harmony, Charlie leading the chorus with a song about making it to the end of the rainbow of happiness. So one could say they lived happily ever after…but with more chaos and unpredictability thrown in.

[sirvalrigard]

genuinely cannot figure it out. cann you please tell me what the fnaf series is about

OK OK so like we’re extremely off our shits rn but lets try to make this coherent

edit: this actually turned into a fucking wall of infodump bullshit so adding a cut lol

1970s. a gay furry dad named henry emily decides to make a furry restaurant cause he’s passionate abt animatronics and making kids happy. he opens the restaurant with a man named william afton as his business partner. henry makes animatronics and william handles idk being fucking creepy and handling money is my best guess. the restaurant is called Fredbear’s Family Diner, featuring Fredbear and Spring Bonnie (after a year or two it becomes popular enough for henry to have money to build bonnie, freddy, chica, and foxy too!) 

ok so shits fine and normal until william billiam is like ‘hmm im gonna be a child predator now’

on a rainy night one of henry’s children, Charlie Emily, is locked outside the pizzeria somehow, where william finds and kills them. the security marionette that henry built to protect his kids drags itself outside to their body, and thus is possessed by their spirit

obviously henry is fucked up but no one knew who the killer was, so henry was able to reopen another location, this time under the new name of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, with the now familiar friends Bonnie, Freddy, Foxy, and Chica to join the original two! multiple locations are eventually opened, and things are going just fucking fine until WILLY billy does his bullshit again!!

this time he lures them into the back by wearing a Spring Bonnie suit, and kills four children and stuffs their bodies into Bonnie, FReddy, Foxy, and Chica, where Marionette (charlie) finds them and binds their souls to the animatronics

but even though willish addon was employed at the very location he killed kids at, AND he was even convicted as the killer, since police couldnt find the bodies (and are useless) he didnt go to jail which is honestly so accurate its the scariest part of the franchise

so like henry at this point i imagine is like “fuck this” and sells the restaurant line to—you know what? honestly? i would love to know who runs Fazbear Entertainment. with the way help wanted was going i rlly hope we get an expansion on that with them as the villians (destroy capitalism) ANYWAY–

“Fazbear Entertainment” becomes the parent company of this mess now and theyre like :)……oh lets hire that william guy again hes fine

and at this point wwillus is making his OWN fucking pizzeria and his OWN animatronics and is actively kidnapping, torturing, and killing children to steal life essence from their souls! during the process of testing this, he gets his own ‘daughter’ Elizabeth Afton killed!! yeah im not fucking making this up!! (ppl in the fandom really defend this guy lol)

1983. so as Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzas are expanding,  Willard Afturd somehow? got himself some children. like to raise. like as a “““father”““. personally i do like 2 think a mother was involved but honestly he totally coulda just fucking kidnapped some random children to raise as his own and im starting to think thats more plausible  actually BUT ITS NOT GAME THEORY TIIME

one of these kids he is personally torturing! his own “son”! incredible! long story short this traumatized child ( unofficially named CC Afton ) is forced into the mouth of Fredbear by his brother Michael Afton and his friends, aaaand he dies ( and is guided by Charlie to possess Fredbear )

even after years of rumors about dead kids being hidden in animatronics, its this accident is the last straw for Fazbear’s Pizza and they are finally shut down. then WILL rubs his nasty hands together and tries to open his OWN pizzeria with his original OCs do not Steal™, Funtime Freddy, Bon Bon, Ballora, Circus Baby ( possessed by Elizabeth) , and Funtime Foxy and theyre all. probably possessedtoo cause theyre used 4 his kid torture fetish

uh ok so Aphton is like hey michael go clean up my child abuse for me anyway brb so his son Mwanders into his father’s Pizzeria to find his sister elizabeth . long story short…………he finds her and she does the “we’re brothers but closer” spongebob meme but also with her friends

ANd they leave! hooray! from then on the story is about Michael, whos zombified now after being used as a husk to hide an amalgamation of 5 animatronics fucking trying to find his shitty fuckass dad, and to help the anguished and vengeful spirits inside

but the first location to reopen after having been shut down, Wilson AAAAA is employed AND KILLS SOME MORE KIDS who would have guessed omg amazing..stunning.. and michael is employed there JUST a week too late like it happens RIGHT before he’s employed so Wumbo Man gets away again and Fazbear Entertainment gets shut down AGAIN, in 1987

not too many years later Fazbear Entertainment tries to open restaurants yES AGAIN and theyre still using the original animatronics that are still rotting and bloody on the inside . somehow this place stays open for a bit, and michael is employed there still looking for Worst Father Ever, and the children attack him due to rage and confusion, and when they kill another employee, the restaurant is shut down for like the trillionth time

but then for some reason Whenwillhedie Afton is like im gonna go try to dismantle the other haunted animatronics at the shut down pizzerias cause i dont actually even know i have shit for brains and also probably wanted to melt them down for life juice BUT

theyrelike FUCK OFF and the spirits of the children materialize in front of Wellington Well Done and force him into the old crusty spring bonnie suit that he’d murdured in before nd spring is like FUCKy ou and crushesAlton with their animatronic parts aand smush him. trapped now #springbonnieisgoodguy

the spirits go to rest in animatronica, the events of fnafworld happen when: 30 fucing years later in like the 2010s some jackasses thought it would be a good idea to mak e a haunted hoiuse attraction based on fazbear’s pizza and use actual shit from the restaurants and of COURSE this fuck shit up hardcore and disturbs the spirits from the rest that they were in ( until it turned intp the events of FNAF World ) and then they were ripped back into reality when Fazbear’s Fright was built

also! they found WWWacky smacky Acky all rotting away inside Spring Bonnie (now called Springtrap) and were like yeah this is good. definitely not a robot struggling to hold back the influence of a murderer predator and definitely wouldnt haev a problem with being set free

basically michael hears about this thing when it opens and is the first employee there and proceeeds to burn the whole place down as soon as he sees Willmont stuck inside ofs Springtrap

buuuut it doesnt work and Springtrap and other various spirits and haunted robots are still wandering the fuck around and Henry at this point is like Okay I Need To Do Something About This Cause This Is Entirely Out Of Fucking Hand and he reopens a Freddy Fazbear’s location himself, but advertises for a manager who wants to build their own pizzeria

you know who pounces on this like a purple cat? MIKE hes like FUCK yeah egg boys gonna kill his dad and be ann egg MAN today

with the help of Henry’s use  of luring mechanics and michael’s endurance and survival skill they gather Scrap Baby (elizabeth), Lefty (charlie), Scraptrap (springtrap, unfortunately  who has a rotton raisin inside him ), and Molten Freddy (the remaining animatronics that  had jumped into michael’s skin lumped together)

soon as theyre all there ? boom . henry lights the place on fire just like mike had and THEY BOTH JUST SIT THERE AND DIE IN IT TOO LIKE ITS SO METAL and it burns everyone else as well

and all the kids are like

uwu

owo

and drag william afton into HELL!! and they get to torture him for a while together and get the revenge they deserve hell yeah tbh UCN is so iconic

BUT Fazbear Entertainment drinks the capitalism so theyre like…. :((( we’ve been so bullied we totally didnt haev an employee who killed countless children… .pleas,e,e,, buy our mehrch, , n,,jdn

SO they employ an AU version of scott cawthon to make, essentially, the games that we’ve all been playing, but like, in-universe, – so the company in universe has fnaf video games made in order to make light of and cover up the actual murders that happened in the canon. is this too meta yet?

okay i lied this is also the scariest part of the franchise bc of how accurate it is to corrupt business hGJFSKDLHDSS

therefore, they create Help Wanted, the recently released VR game (also a game in-universe) and they use salvaged circuitboards and shit from all the old animatronics to program the game, but of course that just ends up transferring everyone’s soul into the game – the kids, the animatronic AIs, and BASTARD MAN

spring bonnie, now called Glitchtrap, is in a deteriorated mental state and is weak to Afton’s influence, and the fuck is able to manipulate an unknown amount of people into helping him out of the VR game and into the in-universe real world. one of these people was jeremy fitzgerald, michael afton’s childhood friend and a former employee at Fazbear’s Pizza during 1987.

he was involved in a lawsuit against the company making the game, and we don’t know what has happened to him yet. but he’s very important. evidence points to him being one of the kids that helped michael put CC’s head into Fredbear’s mouth, and that in 1987 when working at freddys he was bitten and is somehow functioning without a frontal lobe (but like, michael at this point is functioning with insides made of pudding and rotting skin so . basically theyre both too gay to die )

but we DO know that theres at least one person communicating directly with Glitchtrap, who he seems to have convinced to help set him free, someone whos made their own rabbit mask but doesnt seem to be willingly doing this, and might be brainwashed

also, currently, (this is really weird because we are currently living in the same time as the fnaf timeline is at right now) Fazbear Entertainment is planning on a “service program” that is basically sending personal animatronics to peoples houses and GUESS how fucking well THAT works out bc theyre STILL ALL HAUNTED YOuf g

and it seems like theyre planning on opening a new location in 2020, and that might be when we can learn more about the reluctant follower of springtrap and who has the camera while everyone moshes on william aftons corpse

basically the games are about childhood trauma, recovery, the love of family and friends, and justice against many kinds of evils

also where the fuck is sammy