#why does everyone here have the same like 3 kinds of dogs only

[saikira999]

headcanons for how Idia and Malleus play Minecraft?

~ Headcanons for twst characters playing Minecraft.

I was a little late, but here are the headcannons! :D

Also, a little friendly reminder that English is not My native language and if you find errors in the text, please write to me about it.

Another parts about :

Azul and Lilia!

Riddle and Leona!

Jade and Floyd!

[Idia]

1) Absolute pro.

2) During the entire game, big bro has already set up His own server with tens of hundreds of buildings, houses and cities, on which all of Ignihyde plays...

But for you, beginners, He will of course make a new one.

3) Lives not in an ordinary house, but in a secret underground complex with hundreds of traps, secrets and secret passages. The entire dungeon is arranged quite professionally and beautifully, in a black and blue palette, using wool, clay, stone and several types of thin blocks and half-blocks, steps and other things. Instead of ordinary torches, he uses blue torches with soul fire.

4) He doesn’t trust his account to anyone except Ortho, but he tries to make sure that his beloved younger brother doesn’t waste any important resources or do anything unnecessary.

5) His favorite and least favorite location is Nether.

6) His base is guarded by three dogs with blue collars.

7) The same walking guide that explains to everyone and everything how to play and answers all kinds of questions.

8) The bro on the server has absolute power... After all, he is the admin here and the main expert in cheat codes.

9) Despite the fact that he feels much more confident in the square world, he still does not like to interact with other players and prefers to play alone. If there are too many players on the server, He either rushes to retire, or barely uses the microphone and hangs around somewhere in the corners.

He is most comfortable playing with Lilia, Ortho, Azul and possibly Yuu.

10) Keeps a joke counter when someone compares His hair to the blue soul fire (137)...

11) Loves block art and other buildings like statues of favorite anime characters.

12) Usually, he plays with a ton of shaders, mods and other additions, but since not all dorms are equipped with powerful hardware, like in Ignihyde, bro have to play with a minimum amount of additional details.

13) Knows all the cool bugs, recipes, theories and locations of Minecraft.

14) In one of the secret rooms he built a cemetery for His pets.

15) Of all the players, he comes to the server most often, and could have reached the dragon in one day, if not for Ortho’s gentle reminder that on a joint server you need to play TOGETHER.

16) His main fear is if His mother somehow logs onto the server.

17) Always swears at updates.

18) Sometimes he seriously thinks about buying the rights to the game...

19) Minecraft is my life!

20) MINECRAAAAAAAAAFT

(Insert audio from that screaming russian schoolboy meme)

[Malleus]

1) He doesn’t know what Minecraft is and when Yuu and Idia invite him to play (Invitation???? He’ll definitely join!), he asks Lilia what “Minecraft” is and what spell can He use to get into this mysterious world?

2) When he sits down at the computer for the first time, he falls into a crisis and looks at the square icon for a long time (3 hours), in sincere bewilderment.

Then he decides to try to figure it out on his own... And accidentally blows up the computer.

(Poor Lilia.)

4) FINALLY having figured out the controls on the phone (Still poor Lilia), he came onto the server and falls into a new crisis and shock from the appearance of the game...

"This is definitely... It will be interesting..."

5) Absolute noob. Bro sometimes even forgets that his character is weak and mortal. Several times, He simply walks into lava, forgets to eat, or swims in the water for a long time and is genuinely perplexed as to why his character is dying.

6) Tsunotaro's house is a simple wooden box made of dark oak logs, vines and flowers. There is no floor - only fragrant green grass. The windows are also missing and replaced with fences. Right at the doorstep is a garden with flowers, and on the roof there will be creepy, crooked figures made of blocks and half-blocks of stone and basalt (Gargoyles were planned).

Perhaps He will try in the future to rebuild the house into something more gothic, but Tsunotaro like architect, is like a Grim like nutritionist... Yuu is His most frequent guest and Draconia, according to all the rules of etiquette, tries to feed the visitor and force him to stay as a guest with Him, like a decent owner.... Oh, Yuu invites Him to visit...?

...He will definitely come and build Yuu a crooked gargoyle as a sign of gratitude... And I hope that a human child will be smart enough not to destroy His building...

.......No, I'm serious. Don't.

7) He doesn’t understand anything and either follows other players 24/7 or gets lost and Idia eventually finds him a couple hundred chunks away from the spawn location, trying to make friends with the bat.

8) Griefers? Who is this? Is there such a crazy person who would try to break down His house...?

9) Oddly enough, his main occupation is taming everyone he can. Cats? Parrots? Dogs? A whole farm with a variety of livestock from small to large? Two little slimes? Strange guy with white eyes behind the tree? Yuu? He will take care of everyone.... Rest assured)

+ Animals in this game do not age and cannot die unless you put them in danger, or play it safe and give them name tags....

10) The same guy whose game constantly crashes for some reason or whose microphone crashes.

11) Belongs to the type of people who can simply take and give another player either a beautiful, freshly picked flower, or incredibly rare and expensive armor or weapons, with several layers of enchantment, which He obtained from an unknown place and in an unknown way.

12) For a reason unknown to anyone, all mobs such as monsters, villagers and pillagers, except animals and children, bypass him.

13) Loves to wander through abandoned villages and mines.

14) In PVP he is not particularly smart and sticks with more neutral and calm players and rarely gets into fights with anyone... If at all anyone wants to fight with Him.

15) He dreams of building a GIANT Gargoyle, but so far, all he gets is another crooked, creepy pile of stones, only of larger sizes.

16) When he learns that the goal of the game is to kill the dragon and take It's egg, his reaction is literally: ....Mother?🤨

17) He doesn’t want to fight with His relative, and when Idia kills the dragon, he bursts into His room with lightning and thunder in order to interrogate the corpse of Gloomurai, which did not survive several heart attacks.

18) Tsunotaro took the egg for Himself and built a kind of temple for It (Surrounded by gargoyles, of course), and sincerely waited for it to hatch, until Lilia, who came to the rescue, said that this was not possible in the game.

19) Conclusion: One was disappointed because He could not atone for the brutally murdered dragon mother and raise Her child, and the second, although He laughed amicably, still grabbed a couple of Vietnamese (Briar Valley) flashbacks.

(Poor Malleus and Lilia)

20) Later, scared to death, Idia will install a mod especially for Tsunotaro that allows him to hatch and tame a dragon from the egg he received in The End 😊

(Poor Idia)

That's it! I am waiting for your new requests :3

Reblog Me, please? <:]

[wardenparker]

Bones Full of Words, ch 8

Javier Peña x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

“He pleaded so much that he lost his voice. His bones began to fill with words.” ― Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Javier Peña had no way of knowing for certain the American journalist he sometimes sees sniffing around the embassy for her stories is also getting information about the narcos from the same girls that he is. After Helena is brutalized by sicarios, it is that same journalist who comes to take her away and look after her -- giving Javi reason to pause and reconsider his opinion of the woman he had previously not considered as anything more than eye candy.

He has no idea that once she has walked fully into his life, he will be battling with himself over whether or not he should stop her from walking out it of again.

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: sex work, time period appropriate sexism, cursing, alcohol, food/eating, talk of weight or size, fatphobia, internalized fatphobia, self-esteem issues, canon typical violence* Jealousy, poor communication, arguing, poor decision making, violence, kidnapping, gun violence, murder, death. Summary: Upset with Javier and determined to do things your own way, the tension in the apartment propels you into a situation no one could have predicted. Notes: High violence warning this chapter! It's all canon-typical, but Narcos is a high-violence show. Please be advised that this chapter does contain multiple instances of gun use and gun violence. (As usual, I apologize for an errors I may have missed in editing.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

Because he asked you to keep an eye out, you don’t leave the apartment that day. Cooking in silence and sitting down with your notepad is the most you can manage for daily activity but it’s better than nothing. When you’re able to leave tonight you’ll be out there with fire in your heart.

Elisa hears you moving around in the kitchen, but when she comes out, you are already back in your bedroom. Unsure of why she feels a chill in the air, and wanting to apologize if she’s overstepping.

Chi-Chi hears her coming before you do, shifting over from her place on the bed to face the door when footsteps sound. “It’s not worth it, girl,” you murmur to the large dog. Even if you do appreciate the sentiment.

Biting her lip, Elisa reaches out to knock on the door before she pulls her hand back. Uncertain if she is imagining the frostiness. Or if it’s any of her business.

Can you keep an eye on her for me? Javier’s words ring in your head and almost make you so frustrated you decide to ignore the knock altogether, but you promised. You promised, and he’s…he is more to you than you are to him.

After a long moment of deliberation, you pat Chi-Chi’s back and get up.

She hears you move around and takes a step back from the doorway so she isn’t right in your face. Smiling politely when you open the door.

“Hi.” What else are you supposed to say to the woman unknowingly fucking your soulmate?

“Hi.” She is kind of stuck now and she gestures towards the kitchen. “I, uh, I didn’t know if you had anything in there that I shouldn’t touch?”

“No. Groceries are for everyone.” Everyone is really just two of you and one very spoiled dog, but you’re not about to get into semantics with her. All you’ll say, to keep further guilt at bay, is what’s necessary. “I promised Javier we would stay inside today. The only time I’ll leave is to walk the dog and even then I’ll stay right outside the windows.”

“Okay.” She nods, wondering when you two talked, but that’s not her business. “I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

“You surprised me last night.” It comes out of your mouth unbidden, blurted out into the tense silence between you almost like sick. “I didn’t know anyone else would be here.”

“I’m sorry.” She bites her lip and looks down the hallway uncomfortably. “It was sudden. I had to be taken somewhere safe and Connie suggested Javier. Since he works with Steve.”

“You know Connie and Steve?” That is news to you — Javier has never once offered for you to spend time with his partner and his wife, although you know their names from the embassy and stories. Then again, why would he offer?

She nods. “I worked with Connie at the clinic.” She admits. “That’s how we met.”

"That explains the scrubs." She's dressed in what must be her own clothes today. Presumably they were either washed and dried here in the apartment, or she hadn't been wearing them long enough yesterday for anything to get dirty.

“Yeah.” She looks down at her clothes and chuckles. “I didn’t have time to get anything.” She admits. “Connie said she would get me something to wear so I don’t have to just wear this.”

"She sounds like a nice woman." As opposed to you – even if this woman wouldn't be swimming in your clothes, you still wouldn't offer. Purely out of bitter jealousy.

“She is.” There’s something brittle in your tone and Elisa decides it’s best to end the conversation. “I’ll let you get back to…whatever it is you are doing.” She offers. “Uh, thanks for the information.”

"Help yourself to something to eat." There just isn't much else to say to her. If you let yourself say whatever pops into your head you might end up yelling and there's just no point in that. It's not her fault that you went and developed feelings for your soulmate. It's not her fault that you let your heart get in the way. "Javier usually works late, but he'll probably come back sooner since you're here."

“I doubt it.” She snorts and shrugs. “He’s not one to really be tied down, is he? He’s nice enough, but he’s not really a homebody, right?” She’s sure that plenty of women have paraded in and out of here.

"Not really." Not that you are, either. You wouldn't go so far as to claim that. But you wonder if she's fishing for reassurance, and can't stomach the idea of Javier deciding that she is worth coming home to instead of you. He might, though. He really might. "I'm sure once he finds the right person, that's all it will take."

She shrugs, knowing that it won’t be her. “Hopefully I’ll only be in your way for a few days.” She tells you.

"It will be whatever it will be." It isn't your call, after all. Whatever she's really doing here and whatever she is to Javier? Those things are between them. You're just his roommate. And that has never stung more than it does right now.

“That’s a nice outlook.” She licks her lips and wipes her hands on her pants. “Well, I’m going to get something to eat.”

"Okay." Considering this conversation has gone on far longer than you prefer, that is perfectly fine with you. "Just..." You may not like this woman, or the fact of her being here, but you're not cruel. "Don't eat what's in the white plastic container. That's Chi-Chi's food. You wouldn't like it very much."

She laughs, waving her hand appreciatively as she turns to walk down the hall. “Thanks!” She calls back.

“Sure.” You murmur at her back, thudding the door shut behind her, wishing you could have just ignored her existence altogether.

There’s something there. Elisa mulls it over as she goes through the cabinets and figures out something to eat. She just doesn’t know exactly what.

******

Chi-Chi is the first to sound the alarm when the front door opens in the late afternoon, though her barking turns to happy howls and a vibrant wagging of her tail when she sees Javier walk through the door instead of an intruder. The alert had brought you out of your bedroom though – with a paperweight in your hand to lob at any intruder who might dare to invade your space.

Instead, the sight of your soulmate makes your stomach turn. "You're home early."

Javi turns when he hears you, seeing the expression on your face and the paperweight in your hand. “Yeah.” He turns back to the door and locks it securely before looking back at you again. “Steve sent me home. Figured you’d babysat enough.”

"Good." Normally having some extra time in the apartment together would be cause for a homemade dinner and maybe even a movie, but you're loathe to suggest spending time together tonight. It simply isn't even worth considering. Instead, you shift the paperweight in your hands and your own weight from foot to foot. "I'll get ready and go work, then." You huff quietly, mostly at yourself. "Shift change."

“I don’t think you should go out tonight.” Javi has thought about how to approach it all day and he knows you won’t be happy about it. “But, if you have to go, let me send on of the SearchBloc with you.” It seemed like a good compromise, and since he couldn’t leave Elisa home alone, it was better than not having anyone with you. “Trujillo said he wouldn’t mind.”

While he isn't necessarily wrong to be concerned about safety in most of the city, the way your hackles raise at something you would otherwise consider a kind gesture is just...it is so indicative of your stubborn nature as much as your current heartache. "I don't need a babysitter," you tell him unilaterally. "That's apparently a service I provide, not something I need. Besides, I never even told you where I'm going tonight. For all you know I'm interviewing the ambassador in her ridiculous mansion."

He doesn’t know what burr is up your ass and he says as much. “Why are you being fucking difficult?” He hisses, narrowing his eyes at you in annoyance.

"Me?" That earns him a deep eye roll. "You're the one begging for favors and then trying to hinder my work with an asshole in a uniform. Do you know how hard it is to do my job with a cop standing over my shoulder? No one will talk to me."

“He can be discreet.” Javi tells you, knowing that the younger man would wear regular clothes if he told him too. “I would go myself, but-“ he gestures down the hall towards his room where Elisa most likely is.

"What makes you think I would bring you with me, either?" The paperweight in your hand thunks on the nearest flat surface with determination. "All of a sudden you give a shit what happens to me?"

He frowns at your venom, the bile that he hears. “What the hell is your problem?” He demands, getting pissed and glaring at you.

The truth of it is far too cutting, and the heat blasting in your fury keeps you from holding your tongue. "You." You spit back at him, before stalking down the hall and back into your room. There is goddamn work to do and you can't go out into Bogotá at night with tear streaks down your face looking like a mopey schlub. You have to get yourself the fuck together, and you definitely can't do that around Javier.

Javi stares after you, jumping slightly when you slam the door shut and blows out a frustrated sigh. You two had been getting along and now you had come back from your night out with an attitude that was almost worst than the one you had when you first met him. “Fuck.” He hisses under his breath.

"Javi?" Elisa is standing in the doorway of his room, having heard the commotion and stayed well out of harm's way.

“Hey.” He frowns, knowing that she had to have heard and he doesn’t have one damn clue on how to explain that. “Connie gave a bag of clothes to Steve.” He tells her, motioning to the bag he had dropped by the door.

"Thank you." The coast seems to be clear, and she comes out into the living room to retrieve the bag – but also you say hello. "Your roommate is..." She frowns, considering what words to use. "It seems safe to guess that she dislikes me."

“She was rude to you?” He frowns even more, sure you would have at least taken to her and interviewed her. You always ask about anyone involved in the case against Escobar and now you seem practically apathetic towards the best witness he has.

"No." Elisa shakes her head. Once she has picked up the duffel bag from the door, she leans into his side and presses a kiss to his cheek. "But being overly polite is sometimes worse and has more tension than anything else. We only spoke this morning."

He grunts and shakes his head. “She is being stubborn about something.” He doesn’t understand it, but you are a grown ass woman.

"I'm sorry if my being here has caused tension," she offers, not really sure what else to say.

“It’s not you.” He assures her, although he has no proof of that. But this isn’t her fault, no matter what. “Have you had dinner?”

"Not yet." Truth be told, she was waiting for him. For a touch of comfort and companionship. Fresh clothes, a good meal, and Javi will take care of all of those needs.

“Okay.” He nods. “I can order something to be delivered.” He orders with a small shrug of his shoulders.

"Ah." She nods in understanding. "It's her cooking in the refrigerator. Not yours."

“Yeah.” He admits with a grin. “I can make you some eggs and toast. That’s about it. Or slap a sandwich together.”

"There is nothing wrong with a sandwich." Far be it from her to turn her nose up at any kind of food, really. She isn't a fussy or picky kind of woman. "What did your ambassador say?"

"It's going to take a day or so to get clearance," Javi admits. "But with the attack on the Palace, they want to get you to a safe location. One where you can't be touched by Escobar." He doesn't mention that the military is demanding to know who she is and interrogate her.

“I wish I could go back for some of my things,” Elisa admits, but she knows it isn’t possible. The target on her back is too large and too clear. “But thank you. When it is finally safe to come home again I might to thank you for that, as well.”

He knows what she means by thanking him and his cock twitches in his jeans, even as he is glancing down the hallway towards your room. “We can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

"Or perhaps when your roommate leaves." Elisa shrugs, not wanting to get into the complications of it. She will not be here for long and it is not her life. "You wanted dinner, I think?"

Grateful that the other woman in his life isn’t trying to argue with him, he nods. “Do you have something specific you want?” He offers, pulling out the take out menus.

"No, I'm flexible." She pauses, smirking at that, and catches Javi's eye to have him smirking, too. They had tested that fact very well yesterday.

He almost comments, but you open the door to the bedroom and come marching out. Javi looks down at the menus and grabs the one off the top. The Indian restaurant. “How about here?”

"Sure." She really doesn't mind much and it's clear that the tension in the apartment extends to him and doesn't simply emanate from you.

"I'm leaving." Wearing slightly more revealing clothing that you normally would and checking the purse you have stashed your notebook and a pen into along with your essentials, you breeze straight past them without looking around. "I might stay with Inez tonight." There are no more courtesies than that, no other explanations about where you're going or what you expect to do. Things that you might have told him if you weren't so pissed at yourself for expecting him to simply intuit the change in your feelings.

“Okay.” Javi frowns, wishing you would stop and talk to him, or at least take him up on his offer of Trujillo, but you just walk out the door. The silence lingers for a moment and Javi clears his throat. “Pour us a drink while I order, hm?”

"Sure." Elisa nods again and moves to the bar cart that Javi keeps in his living room. She has a feeling that he will need more than one, but that is up to him. "Whiskey?"

“Yeah.” He answers, picking up the receiver from the hook in the kitchen and dialing the restaurant. He doesn’t know what exactly to do, but he can only handle one problem at the time right now.

******

The night is oppressively hot and sticky, not yet cool enough to have brought the temperature down in the city and the warmth of so many people swirling through the busy streets as people go about their evening plans. Powered by frustration as much as anything else, you make your way through the streets on foot to catch a cab to your old neighborhood.

The cab driver asks if that is where you really want to go, shaking his head and sighing when you say yes and starts to drive cautiously towards the area of town that has grown increasingly violent.

The man you’re going to interview was displaced by the raid on the club just like you and Inez, with a similar situation of a landlord evicting their tenants and selling the property to get away from sicarios invading the neighborhood. He has promised a full interview with both him and his brother as anonymous sources, and suggested a semi-public place to meet. There are dangers, of course, there always are, but if you’re normally stubborn about things…Right now you’re downright blind to them.

The small café is around the corner from the old building the club used to be housed in. Rundown, one of the widows is boarded up from being shot out just two days ago. The waitress gives you a nervous look when you walk in the door.

“I’m meeting some friends,” you tell her politely, trying not to fidget in the clothes you picked for tonight. They’re not really not revealing but they’re more fashionable than you normally choose so you feel a bit like you’re on display. “Could I have a coffee please?”

“Sure.” She motions towards the empty tables, the seating area empty besides you. She can tell you are American and that makes her even more uncomfortable.

Convincing yourself that the tension in the air is you projecting your own emotions on the place, you sit and sip your coffee with one eye on the door. Everything is fine. You’re just upset and it’s making you prickly.

The cook in the back slips outside, unobserved by you and the waitress taps nervously on the counter as she waits for something to happen.

Five minutes click by. Then ten. Your coffee wasn’t the best but you know you’re a snob about it so you don’t say anything to the anxious-looking waitress. It isn’t until the door open again and a short man with thick, dark hair walks in wearing the promised blue linen shirt and denim jacket that you show any interest in anything whatsoever.

His eyes find you in the corner with your back to the kitchen and he plasters a smile on his face as he walks over to you. Saying your name for confirmation, to make sure that it’s you. As though there is anyone else in this seedy little café to be confused for.

“Is your brother not able to join us?” Enrique has turned up alone with a cigarette behind his ear and a friendly smile. “Join me. Have a seat.”

“He will be here.” Enrique promises, smirking slightly as he pulls out a chair and flops down into it opposite you. “Had to do something first.” He looks around and notices that you don’t seem to have anyone with you. “You came alone?”

“The nature of what we have to talk about is relatively private.” Hence the cafe — deserted aside from its employees, although you were bolstered to see the large window through to the kitchen, ensuring more than just the waitress for witnesses.

He nods and plucks the cigarette out from behind his ear and produces a lighter from a pocket of his jacket. “Figured you would have that DEA agent with you.” He comments as he blows out the first puff of smoke.

“…What DEA agent?” You hadn’t said a word about Javier in your phone call with this man, and suddenly the tense air in the cafe goes from thick to oppressive. All it takes is an instant and you’re wondering if you can get to the door before the man twice your height can block the way.

“The one who has been passing the word that the American woman journalist looking for an apartment is under his protection.” He continues conversationally and points at you with the cigarette between his fingers. “That is you, no?”

You’re going to fucking kill him. You’re going to tear Javier Peña a new asshole the second you get home tomorrow. He blew your fucking credibility that bastard! “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You manage to lie without stammering or sounding fearful. For that, you will reward yourself later. With rum. “I have a place and I certainly don’t work with the DEA.”

“Yes, you do.” He smiles, a thin stretch of his lips that has lost the charm from earlier. “Someone wants to meet you.”

The front door is probably no more than twelve feet away. The door to the kitchen is only five or six, but you would have to wind through the whole thing blindly to find the exit, and potentially give this stranger the opportunity of pick up a weapon. The front door is the cleanest choice. You remember the way to the nearest busy neighborhood center from here and at this time of day you can blend into the crowds making their way into bars and clubs. That will give you enough time to duck into a bathroom and get another cab.

In the split second it takes you to make all of these plans, you wrap your wrist in the chain of your purse under the table and move your feet as subtly as you possibly can. Using the bottom of the booth to push off like a runner in the Olympics, you sprint for the door.

Only to find the way blocked as soon as you reach the frame.

Grabbing your arms, his ‘brother’ grins as you as he holds you. “You don’t want to leave, do you?” He tsks and Enrique laughs. “Pablo would be so disappointed.”

Pablo.

“I can’t tell him anything he doesn’t already know.” That, at least, is true. Your job is only to gather information and report. The information that he is putting out into the world. Him and his sicarios — the misery and mayhem that they reap.

“He can be the one who decides that.” You are turned from the door, a gun in Enrique’s hand now. Pointed at you. “Let’s go. Out the back.”

You don’t need to glance at the bar to know the waitress is gone, and you don’t need to even think twice to know that you are not going home or to Inez’s tonight. In fact, you’re probably not going home ever again. If you’re lucky, they’ll just kill you outright is all you can think, with the imagine of Helena’s nearly comatose body in your head.

One foot in front of the other, you are marched through the abandoned coffee shop and out through the kitchen, where the only employee pays you no mind whatsoever and another man is sitting in the driver’s seat of a car. The puddle of white fabric in the dirt might be an apron, you can’t tell.

“The trunk.” The motion of the gun guides you to the back of the car and he smirks when you try to push back against the man behind you. “Don’t make it harder. He said we had to get you to him, not what condition you had to be in.”

“There’s no reason for him to waste so much effort on me,” you repeat, annoyed when your own not inconsiderable strength does nothing to help you.

Both men chuckle and your hands are bound behind your back. “It’s no effort at all.” Enrique taunts. “You came like a lamb to the slaughter.”

It's insulting how true that assessment is, and even more insulting when the two men shove you into the trunk of the car and slam it shut while laughing to each other in Spanish, as if you don't understand them perfectly. The slamming doors rock the car, and the movement of the two large men settling into seats shifts you back and forth even more, but it doesn't matter.

Your hands have been duct taped so thoroughly that even your fingers are bunched together and your eyes aren't adjusting to the darkness of the trunk like you expected them to. Trying to compensate for your lost and muddled senses makes paying attention to the car's twists and turns very difficult, and even though you know this neighborhood you lose track of the route you've driven after about ten minutes.

That would be bad enough on its own, but then the driving doesn't stop. Deep potholes jolt you violently hour after hour until you've managed to bite your lip and tongue bloody from the way the car bounces and your head has hit the top or bottom of the trunk just hard enough that you're wondering if you might have a slight concussion from it.

But hour after hour, it never stops and the car never slows.

It’s only when you’ve completely lost track of what time it is, and fell asleep a few times that the car stars to slow down. Creeping along for a few minutes before finally stopping. Arriving at your destination.

The stopping is what wakes you, as cars open and close and the vehicle jostles multiple times. Voices raise outside the trunk, muffled but audible. When the key turns in the lock and the trunk is flung open, your intention to throw yourself off the floor of the thing and lash out with feet if nothing else, is abruptly squashed by the fist that comes down on your cheek. You see the outside world just long enough to know that it's near sunrise when a cloth bag is put over your head and you're manhandled out of the trunk back onto your feet.

Two different pairs of hands grab at you. Shoving you along and when you struggle, one of them punches you in the stomach and makes you double over, gasping for air. “Move, bitch!” It’s not Enrique’s voice this time, but the tone is evil. The voice of a man who has no sympathy in his entire body for anyone.

It feels like they intentionally trip you on a short flight of stairs, pulling you up again by your armpits when you stumble and fall, landing on stone not just once or twice but three times. From the way your shins sting and ache, you've got a few cuts and will have throbbing muscles in no longer than an hour from now. If you even make it another hour. The possibility that you won't is unnervingly real.

“Sit her down.” The voice comes from your left, the order in Spanish and there is the slight sound of a disappointed sigh. “What have I told you about kidnapping women?” The voice says. “You treat them with respect.”

"American pig." Sneers one of the other voices that you don't recognize. If you can figure out who it is later on – and if your mouth is ever untaped – you'll spit right in his eye.

“But a valuable one.” There’s the sound of footsteps and the scrapping of a chair as one is dragged closer to where you are standing. “Remove the bag.”

The fabric is ripped from your head, definitely taking some hair with it, and suddenly you become sharply aware that you're facing east. Sunrise is blinding you so badly that you have to flinch away and let your eyes adjust. Which means it's almost a full minute of standing there before you realize that Pablo Escobar is the figure outlined by the rising run.

Your full, government name is said, leaving no doubt that the biggest drug lord in Colombia knows who you are. They had gone through your purse on the way here, but that’s not the point. “Please, sit.” Pablo offers, motioning to the chair in front of you.

For the rest of your life, regardless of how long that is, you're going to be proud of yourself for not immediately pissing yourself in fear at the sight of him. He's nothing special. Not really. A mid-height chubby man with curly hair and an unfortunate mustache. He looks very...disarmingly...normal. But this ruthless murderer is not to be underestimated.

So you sit.

“Ah.” Pablo smiles, the gesture meant to be disarming and charming. “And they say Americans are stubborn.” The men around him chuckle but he keeps his eyes on you. “Forgive our manners.” He tells you, not really meaning it. “I’m afraid that it has become harder to talk to the people I need to now.”

The irony does not escape you, and you shoot him a look that says I can't talk to anyone at all right now while momentarily slipping your grip on the fact that this situation is deadly serious. Thankfully, the man laughs and waves one hand, which one of his armed flunkies takes as a direction to come over and rip the duct tape off of your mouth.

Pablo watches as you hiss in pain and move your jaw around. “There. Now we can talk.” He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. “What is your connection to the DEA?”

"I have none." That hasn't stopped being true – or mostly true – just because they drove you out of the city and out to what looks like one of Pablo's mansions.

“Then why was a DEA agent saying he as protecting you?” He snaps his fingers at one of this men. “What was the asshole’s name?”

"Peña." Supplies Enrique. Or, the man who told you that his name was Enrique.

Fucking hell. Why did soulmate have to be such a meddler?

"I don't know why he said that," you answer honestly. Mostly because it doesn't make any fucking sense to you but also because you really don't know his logic.

“Is he fucking you?” Pablo drags his eyes up and down your body. You aren’t bad, but you are thicker than he likes. Tata would like you though.

"No." To date, Javier Peña has never even hugged you or any much physical contact with you at all. Which is what makes his claims of protection so aggravating. It's like it's a performance on his part.

“And you are a journalist?” He asks, tilting his head as he wonders why the DEA agent is interested in protecting someone that he isn’t fucking.

"Yes." If he knows your name and he knows who Javier is, then he already knows that. There's no point is denying it when he basically catfished you with a phony story for your column.

He takes another drag off his cigarette and slowly exhales the smoke. Considering his options and then nodding. “You will interview me.” He decides, smirking slightly at his genius idea.

"Excuse me?" The idea of it takes you so off guard that you just stare at him for a moment, but he looks so fucking pleased with himself and is already motioning around to his men and issuing rapid fire orders. Someone is to bring him a chair. Someone else a drink. A third person is sent to fetch his breakfast. Still another is waved inside to check on Tata. You're fairly certain he didn't even hear your confusion over his own self-satisfaction, but you manage to cut through the noise of movement with your second thought. "I'll need my hands for that. To take notes."

“Bring a notepad and a pencil!” Pablo shouts after the men, cursing when he realizes that no one else is here to cut you loose. “You try to run and I will put a bullet in your head.” He tells you casually as he pulls out his gun and shows it to you. “Then I will have my men in America kill your family. Understand?”

Your family. The thought of Escobar sending goons to carry out hits on your mother and your brothers terrifies you far more than anything he could do to you, and you nod once. "I understand."

“Good.” He gives you that charming smile again, but his eyes are watchful, calculating. “Then you will write the story and tell the real truth about what is happening here.”

It's an odd and sickening guarantee. You will live long enough to write your article. To carry his words to the world. Whether or not they let you live longer is up in the air and highly improbable – but if you can drag this out a little you might be able to figure out how to survive. Attempting an escape seems like a surefire way to get his sicarios sent after your family, and you aren't willing to take the chance he may not be bluffing about having that ability.

The men return, another chair and a table being brought in. Notepad with several sharpened pencils are slapped down on it. One cold coke in a glass bottle, obviously not for you, and then a bottle of water that might be for you are also added.

You're careful not to look anywhere but at your hands in front of you, somehow convinced that making eye contact with any of these people will end in violence. On Escobar's orders your legs are tightly tied to the chair and the tape is cut from your hands. There is no way you're going anywhere, but at least you can flex your fingers and feel the blood flow return to them.

"Where do you want to be begin?" Pablo asks curiously before he turns in his own seat and berates one of his sicarios for not bringing an ashtray to the table.

"Well..." Reaching for the notepad and a pencil with tentative hands, you flip open to the first page and instinctively date the top line. Swallowing is a dry and hazy endeavor but you manage to remind yourself to breathe. "Let's start with your full name and where we are." The more corroborating information that you can get, the better. Maybe after the article is done and Escobar inevitably has you shot, the work will still help convict him somehow.

"Pablo Emilio Escobar Gaviria." He announces his name dramatically and with a slight hint of theatrical flair. He is vain enough to know that most people, even Americans, recognize his name. What he craves is respectability. "We are in—" He tilts his head and smirks slightly at the attempt to get information from him on your location. "Colombia."

"You don't have to give me the longitude and latitude." You're not dumb enough to think wherever you are actually has an address. "But...in general. Are we at your home? A safe house? The home of a business associate?"

His brows furrow in anger, his jaw tightening. "In hiding." He spits, sneering at the mere thought of the indignity. "Because of your fucking DEA."

"That must be very hard for you." The top of the page is marked out with the date and the name of your subject, and from there your pencil flies across the pages. Taking down direct quotes from both Escobar and you – questions and answers exactly as they're said. Your training is kicking in despite the fear. Writing in shorthand ensures that you can actually get everything down without having to pause in the conversation and ruin the flow. "To have to hide with your family when you are also working to be a community leader?" He did run for office, after all. You aren't leading him fruitlessly.

"Why does America care about me?" Pablo demands. "I am a businessman." He stresses, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray and shaking his head. "I care about Colombia. But you are here, for me. Your DEA is here, for me." He shrugs. "Why do you care?"

"Your business has made it all the way to America." Calling it a business makes your skin crawl, but following his proverbial scent and the thread of the narrative he wants you to tell for him matters. "We are always interested to know about the people who bring their business to our country."

"Then ask me what you want to know." He offers.

The situation is so loaded from every angle that you almost don't know where to start. The drugs, the smuggling, the international reach of his enormous illicit business dealings. His family. His public image. You might be the only American reporter to ever get to sit down with the world's most infamous drug lord and squandering that opportunity is basically a waste of the end of your life – since you really are sure you won't make it out of this place alive.

"Start at the beginning," you offer, starting a new line in the notebook you've been given. It's a miracle that your hand isn't shaking too badly to write, but you're not going to question it. "When you started this business, what did you hope to achieve?"

“Support my family.” Pablo tilts his head, surprised by the question. “My mamá had this couch. Worn, broken.” He snorts. “It was a piece of shit. I wanted to buy her a new couch. To buy her things she sacrificed having raising me.”

“With a worldwide business, would you say that you have now achieved that goal?” The longer you can keep him talking, you decide, the better. The more he will feel you have become sympathetic to him. The more likely he is to perceive you as friendly and slip on something. Something seemingly insignificant that can be used against him somehow. You have to try. You have to try.

“Perhaps.” Pablo shrugs slightly. “Visions change. Goals broaden.” He crushes out the cigarette and picks up the Coke bottle to twist the lid off the drink to take a swallow.

“You have goals for more than just your family now?” He must, considering her ran for office, but you’re willing to pick up any thread he gives you.

“I want to be involved in politics.” Pablo admits, his expression tight. “I would be good at it.”

“Tell me what happened,” you prompt. Just breathe. Keep him talking. You’ll find the angle eventually and some tidbits along the way. “In your own words.”

Pablo starts to weave a tale of honorable intentions derailed by jealousy and a corrupt system that would not let him come to power. Finishing his coke during the long-winded story as you write notes.

If you had been asked what you expected to hear, this would be something close to it. A man who saw himself as a savior being thwarted at every turn, his good intentions stagnated time and time again. He truly must have no idea how bloviated with arrogance he sounds. How self-absorbed and self-righteous. How delusional.

The article he wants you to write and the one that you’ll print if you ever survive this horror show are two very different beasts.

“We should have a recorder.” Pablo frowns as he thinks of it, snapping his fingers at the man that is guarding the door.

Anything he wants is available to him at the snap of two fingers from either a man who looks terrified to misstep, or a man who looks smugly confident of his own self-importance. The juxtaposition is stark, but the ones who do the scurrying and fetching are the terrified ones.

“Thank you.” Even in your own anxieties and fears, somewhere in your mind you’re convinced that good manners might buy you a little more time. “This will be very helpful.”

“I would hate for the story to be misquoted.” Pablo muses, although his brow arches up. “Smoke?” He offers, holding out the pack as he waits for the machine to be brought in.

The idea of accepting anything from this absolute insect of a human being is repulsive and you almost can't even stomach it. But there is a solid chance that if you don't take the offering he'll be offended, and that could end in your end. More plainly put? You're not going to take the chance that Escobar will be so mad you rejected his 'gift' that he kills you for it. So you say yes and manage to even sound grateful through the strain of a dry throat and however many hours you were jostling around in that car.

He shakes out a cigarette for you to take and even pulls out his own zippo to light it. Flicking the striker even as he growls to the other man about what is taking so fucking long with the recorder.

For the first time in all of this, the thought in your head is wondering what Javier would think if he could see this now – and not in an angry and cursing sort of way. Just in the way where you are absolutely bewildered with every new moment of this.

And then suddenly, as Escobar is cursing out his men for taking too long, you know exactly what you're going to do. The chances of your surviving this are low. Infinitesimally low. And the notebook that you're writing in is entirely in shorthand. Unless one of Escobar's henchmen has studied to be a secretary at an American college, they're not going to be able to read your notes. Maybe that was folly, maybe it was just ingrained habit.

Either way, it is going to let you fill this notebook full. Two articles – one that Escobar will approve of and one that tells the entire truth of your kidnapping and everything you witness while in this compound.

So even though you won't make it out, there is at least a chance that the truth will survive you.

Waiting makes Pablo Escobar angry. He’s not a man who enjoys waiting for things. Especially when it appears to make him lose face in front of an American Journalist. Picking up the water bottle, he hurls it at the other man in the room. “Hurry the fuck up!”

A man skitters into view a minute later with a tape recorder in his hands, begging forgiveness and practically tripping over his own two feet to place the recorder on the table. A split second before it is fully set down, you realize with horror that there is no cassette tape inside.

It takes him two seconds, two bone chilling- heart stopping seconds. The fierce glare on his face is cruel, almost demonic. Pablo pulls out his gun as the man starts to back up, holding his hands in front of him. “Boss- boss, please-“ Escobar doesn’t give mercy, pulling the trigger three times and shooting the man down right in front of you.

Your heart stops. Breath catching in your lungs and blood running cold in your veins. And then your stomach lurches, revolting on you, and the only saving grace of the moment as you fall forward and dry heave in your seat is that there is nothing left in your stomach to actually empty out.

Pablo watches you retch as he puts his gun away. “He was disappointing.” He explains casually, not mentioning that the man had fucked up numerous times before.

Another man appears moments later with a new bottle of cold water to replace the broken one, and a fresh tape. He unwraps it from its plastic and plunks it down beside the machine without sparing you even a glance, but you don't care. You can't even process anything else. You had managed to make it this far in life without seeing anyone die, let alone be murdered in cold blood. But you can't say that anymore.

"I hope," you manage, feeling your throat croak and ache. "For everyone's sake, that no one else disappoints you."

Your pencil flies automatically, like some kind of ingrained reflex or biological imperative that operates entirely outside of your personal horror at the situation. It helps ground you, reminding you of the unyielding truth of this moment: that these horrors are, at their core, so deeply and terribly human. When you can breathe another steady breath, you reach for the tape recorder to hit the record and play buttons. “Let’s continue,” you manage, knowing how shaky your voice will sound on that tape.

“Perhaps I should start again?” Pablo asks, watching dispassionately as another couple of his men come into the room to drag out the body.

“For the record.” Speaking as clearly as you can into the tape recorder, you state your name — No use in pretending he doesn’t know it, he’s said it before. Even your middle name. — and the date. “Interview conducted in private at subject’s request.” It’s pure professionalism. Every single step meant to ensure that he believes you are taking him seriously. “The first part of this interview was taken by shorthand notes by the reporter.” Polite. Always polite. Looking back up at him and somehow managing not to flinch, you motion to the recorder. “Please state your name for the tape, as you have already done for my notes, and anything you would like to repeat. Then we will continue.”

He goes through the major points again, sending you a pleased smile when he comes back to the point where you had left off. “Now. We will talk business.” He nods.

“What kind of business would you like to talk?” He’s in the driver’s seat of this interview, after all. You’re just holding on for dear life.

“The kind that brought you to Colombia to write about me.” He smirks and picks up another cigarette.

******

It is a whole twenty-four hours after you are supposed to arrive at her apartment that Inez decides to call. She would have sooner but – as you always say – life happens and she just assumed that you had decided to go home again despite being annoyed with your Javier. Now that she is finally able to pick up the phone and call your apartment, she's wondering how you are feeling after your interview. If you got anything worth while out of the brothers who had contacted you.

Javi had been expecting a phone call from Steve, staying with Elisa today since you had decided not to come home. So when the phone rings in the apartment, he picks it up. “What have you learned?” He asks immediately.

"Um...hello?" Inez's voice fills with a frown. "Is this Javier?"

A woman’s voice. Javi rolls his eyes slightly as he tries not to sigh. He feels like he’s in a version of hell concerning the opposite sex. “Yes?” He asks, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. “Who is this?”

“My name is Inez.” In an instant she understands why you’re constantly so annoyed with this guy. He’s snappy and huffy on the phone, which means he probably doesn’t have much better manners in person. But the warm depth of his voice is nice. “I was calling for your roommate,” she tells him, adding your name in case he doesn’t remember who mentioning her to him in the past.

Javi pauses, frowning and his brow furrowing together. “You’re the bartender from where she used to live?” He asks, prompting her to confirm. “She’s not home. I guess she hasn’t made it back from your place.” He twists his head to look at the clock on the wall. “I’ll let her know when she gets in.” He doesn’t even want to unpack why it was so easy to say ‘home’ where you are concerned.

“She didn’t come home last night?” Inez’s voice is immediately tense.

“She….said she was staying at your place.” Javi’s gut curls, the warning bells starting to ring in the back of his mind. “What time did she leave?” You were angry enough that you might have gone to a bar and went home with someone, or went to the brothel. So the panic starting to creep into his veins could be completely unwarranted.

“She…never came over.” The sickening feeling of panic in her chest tightens and makes her stomach flip.

“What the fuck do you mean she never came over?” Javi growls, gripping the receiver tight in his fist.

“I figured she went home after the interview!” Inez defends, startled by his tone. “I was calling to check on her!”

“She hasn’t been back.” Javi breaks off in a string of curses. “Give me your number, I’ll call you back.”

Quickly rattling off a string of numbers, Inez takes no offense when he slams down the receiver afterward without saying goodbye. She’s shaken and fearful, left sitting on her couch wondering what the fuck happened, and wondering if she should call Vanessa.

As soon as Javi slams down the phone, he is picking it up again, calling Vanessa. Trying to ignore the way his fingers shake as he punches the buttons.

“Hello?” Vanessa’s voice is bright and cheery when she picks up her private line.

“Vanessa, please tell me that—” Javi says your name almost desperately, “came over and is still with you or Freckles? Or fuck, any of the girls?”

“What?” Vanessa frowns immediately. Javi never sounds scared or panicked unless there is a very good reason. And right now he sounds both. “No. I don’t think so? Hold on.” Freckles is there in the room with her, having just finished with a particularly irksome client. “You haven’t seen our girl lately, have you?” She asks over the receiver.

“No.” Freckles shakes her head, barely glancing up from her magazine. “Not for a little while now.” She tilts her chin at the phone. “Is that Javi?”

“Yeah.” Vanessa nods while her own frown forms and she readjusts the phone on her shoulder. “She’s not here, Javi.”

“Goddamnit.” Javi hisses, shoving a hand through his hair. “If she shows up, call me!” He demands before he is slamming the phone down so he can call Steve. You’re missing and there’s the small issue of the fact that you are his fucking soulmate.

The phone line rings twice before it’s picked up, making the world feel like it’s moving in slow motion around him. “Murphy.” His partner drawls on the other end by way of greeting.

“I’ve got a problem.” Javi spits out.

“So do we all, Peña.” Steve chuckles on his end of the call. “Something new, I take it?”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit.” Javi hisses and says your name. “The journalist? The one that lives with me? She’s fucking missing.”

“Shit.” Steve sits up in his seat, alarmed at Javi’s tone. “How long?” An American tourist going missing in Bogotá is bad enough — but one living with a DEA agent? That shit would be like catnip to sicarios.

“She left last night to go interview someone, I don’t know if she ever made it there.” Javi admits, blowing out a sigh. “I tried to get her to take Trujillo but she wouldn’t.”

“Where was the interview?” Steve asks, pulling out a notebook to start taking notes.

“Fuck, I don’t know.” Javi should have asked Inez if she knew anything more, but he had been frazzled and not thinking. “I’m assuming her old neighborhood.”

“Shit.” More emphatic this time, Steve rubs His hand across his forehead and reaches to grab his jacket. This has officially become a situation. “Is there someone she would have told? Or does she keep notes somewhere in the apartment?”

“I don’t know.” Javi shakes his head. “She has a friend. Inez. She was supposed to meet her after and she had told me she was going to stay with her last night. Inez called me just a few minutes ago asking about her.” He rattles off the phone number. “Get her in to go over any fucking detail she can remember. I’m going to search her room.”

"Copy that." Steve hangs up without preamble and then immediately picks up his phone again. It's a whirl of activity as he drops his jacket, dials the number he wrote down – all the while wondering what it is about this woman that has his partner so knotted up as to actually sound scared on the phone.

Javi hangs up and immediately bolts down the hall to your bedroom. The panic he’s swallowing covers up any hesitation for imposing on your private space. He starts at the shelf closest to your door and starts searching methodically.

Things are fairly well organized in your room. The small closet is full of clothes with shoes lined up in a row on the floor and your suitcase stashed up on the top shelf. Two other, clearly empty bags are beside it and even though those bags are all empty, they're still the first things he goes through. The shoe box on the end of the shelf comes down with a clatter, revealing nothing more consequential than a collection of knick-knacks all tagged with the date and location of your purchase, and a name – small mementos of Colombia that are meant to be brought home with you later as gifts.

If he was trying to get a sense of you as a person, this would be a treasure trove of information. But none of this helps him find you. Not until he finds the matchbook for a small café. It’s one he swears that you’ve mentioned several times and there’s a good chance that you might have stopped by there or maybe even tried to set up your interview there as a neutral setting. It’s better than nothing and he shoves the matches in his pocket as he continues to search.

The small table at your bedside holds a leather notebook and a copy of Gabriel García Márquez's One Hundred Years of Solitude, stacked one on top of the other beside the photo of your family and a half-drunk glass of water. Even the bureau on the wall opposite your bed is tidy, with a tray of makeup and other beauty products laid out carefully beside your small jewelry box.

Surrounded by your belongings, those things most intimate to you, Javi starts to panic. The fear started to set in, as he reaches for the hairbrush that you have lying on the dresser. “Fuck.” He hisses, nearly picking it up and throwing it through the mirror, but he doesn’t. He can’t. He can’t do this right now. Not when you could be in danger and every minute that passes without knowing where you are, that possibility increases one hundred fold.

"Javier?" Elisa's voice comes from the hallway, nervous and quiet but still loud enough for him to hear. "What happened?"

Turning his head where he was staring at your make up, he sees Elisa hovering in the doorway. “I’ve got to go.” Javi decides, unable to stay here and wait. Not when you might be in trouble. “Stay here. Lock the fucking door.” He tells her and pushes away from the dresser to get the backup gun out for her. “Shoot anyone who doesn’t belong if they come through that door.”

"Be safe." She says after a moment's pause. Whatever is going on, it is clearly dire and he is upset, so she simply takes the gun and bolts the door behind him when he bolts out of it like a rocket.

He had his cell phone and he’s immediately calling Steve back, rushing to his vehicle. “I’ve got a possible lead.” He tells him. “Café near the nightclub.”

"Address?" Steve stands and grabs his jacket, ripped his note page off of the pad he had been scribbling on while talking to Inez. "The bartender didn't know a location but had the names of the men she was meeting with. Might be pseudonyms but it's a start."

“Goddamnit.” Javi slams the door of the jeep and slaps the steering wheel. “I don’t fucking like this!” He hisses. “She needs to be found right now!”

Steve smothers a groan, hightailing it through the halls of the embassy on his way out the door. "I know she's a missing civilian but I always thought this woman pissed you off to no end. You're acting like the sky is falling."

Javi doesn’t have an answer for him right now. Growling down the line. “Hurry the fuck up.” He snarls before he ends the call and peels away from the curb.

******

The cafe is just as decrepit as he feared it would be, and while the block is deserted that could either be a good thing or a very bad one. The only person in sight is the woman in all black wearing a half apron smoking a cigarette by the front door, but that's a start.

Javi walks up to the woman and pulls out a pack of cigarettes to take one out. She seems like she’s someone who’s seen plenty. “Busy day?” The fact that he’s as calm as he is remains a surprising miracle, but he’s hoping he might get some information out of her casually.

She snorts, exhaling smoke from her last drag and waving her hand dismissively. “Never.”

Javi hums, flicking open his lighter and bringing the flame to the end of the cigarette. “How about last night?” He asks after the first puff, slipping the zippo into his pocket and watching her carefully.

“Never.” She repeats, but mostly in a bored way. Most of the men who come through here on business aren’t nearly this handsome, and she’s bored to tears. She doesn’t mind having a chat. Just as long as he doesn’t ask too many questions.

Javi pulls the cigarette from his mouth and flicks the ashes away from her. “Friend of mine told me about this place.” He lies. “Said she was coming here last night.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.” She lies, just as easily. Though her lips flatten and she takes a longer drag from the cigarette to finish it faster. The only woman who came through last night was the one Esteban and Manuel came for.

“I’m sure she said this was the place.” He looks around the front again and then back at her. “American, curvy.”

The woman’s shoulders tense and her stomach revolts, and she quickly stubs out her cigarette. “No Americans.” She insists, as though she were stating a policy and not panicking. This man knows something.

She springs up from her perch on the stoop and Javi lunges forward, grabbing her arms and spinning her around to face the wall and yanking her arms behind her back. “Where is she?” He shouts.

“Who?!” The waitress cries out, shoulder pushed firm against the stone building. She’s been warned to keep her mouth shut enough times that she is going to play dumb with this Americano. The sicarios who own her apartment building have made it clear that her daughter’s life is at stake if she doesn’t. “I don’t know what you mean!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me,” Javi hisses, pulling back slightly and pushing her up against the building harder. He pins her with his weight and reaches for the cuffs tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. “The journalist! She was here!”

The sound of car tires screeching to a halt only adds to the chaotic atmosphere, and Steve Murphy is jumping out of his car practically before it has come to a complete stop. “What the fuck is going on?” He demands, seeing Javi about ready to drag this woman off to prison. “You find something out?”

Steve’s talking in English, and this woman doesn’t seem to understand him. “She’s lying. She knows something!” Javi tells Steve as he slams her against the wall again. “Tell me!” He roars in Spanish at her and spins her around to see the fury in his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Steve hisses, pulling his partner back from the woman he has slammed against the wall. Javier’s managed to get the cuffs on her and she looks as confused and terrified as he does furious. “She told you she doesn’t know shit and you’re mad about it? Is that what’s going on here?”

“She’s fucking lying!” Javi growls as he pushes back, getting up in Steve’s face. Glaring at him before he turns back to the woman and switches back to Spanish. “I will kill you before the sicario’s can touch you.” He warns her. “She’s a DEA agent’s soulmate.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” The hammer of understanding lands swiftly on Steve’s brow, and he’s not proud of the extra two seconds it takes him to collect his jaw off the ground before he can step in to pry Peña’s hands off the woman. He knows the word for soulmate in Spanish. Connie had learned it and was starting to use it as a cute pet name. “I’m putting her in the fucking car and you’re going calm the fuck down!” He orders his partner, pointing one finger firmly in Javi’s direction as he shoves the suspect in the direction of his car.

Javi doesn’t want to let her go, but he doesn’t have much of a choice when Steve pushes him off again. Swiping his hand through his hair and blowing out a breath as he paces on the sidewalk.

In the time it takes Steve to wrestle the woman into the backseat of his car in her handcuffs and lock her in, Javi is prowling the sidewalk like a caged panther. “Your fucking soulmate?” Steve asks, the second he’s up on the pavement with his partner again. “That’s why you’ve lost your goddamn mind?”

“Don’t you even fucking lecture me.” Javi grabs Steve’s jacket and shakes him slightly. “You would tear Colombia apart if something happened to Connie.”

“Of course I would!” There is no doubt about that and Steve doesn’t even try to deny it for a moment. “But if you had told me who the fuck were we looking for we would have been out here straight a-fucking-way!”

Javi pauses, clarity breaking through his anger. He had never told Steve what you were - are - to him. That’s his fault. He lets go of him and frowns. “She needs to talk.” He tells him. “She was here, I know it.” He doesn’t know how he knows it, but it was the exactly type of place you would have set up an interview.

Steve searches his face, looking for signs of anything besides the obvious fear and concern, and when he comes up short he nods. “Okay.” He agrees, still standing between his partner and the car. “But after we interrogate her you’re telling me everything, got it? Otherwise I’m not gonna be any good to you on this search.”

“You won’t like it.” Javi promises, looking back at woman in the car. “I’m calling Carillo.”

“Let’s get the band back together.” Steve agrees. This just became about a hell of a lot more than a missing journalist.

______

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[animeomegas]

The Quest for a Second Life - Part 6 - 50 Shades of Audacity (2)

KAKASHI x ALPHA!READER

Summary: An office scandal, the start of your gold digging arc, and a mysterious house in the countryside... It still annoyed you that you had to have a job, but honestly, it could have been worse. This was kind of exciting! GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: N-sfw content, workplace violations, vague discussion of canon specific suicide, playful smacking, playful physical restraint. All alphas have dicks, fyi.

A/N: Hey! We're rapidly reaching the end of this story now! Only one more chapter before the epilogue, crazy! Time has flown. Happy holidays to everyone, especially @omeganronpa who is working so hard, hopefully a break is coming soon 😖 Not much porn in this one, as I'm saving it for the finale. Enjoy~

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue

Going for a Sunday drive was always a nice way to spend a morning. Well, it wasn’t Sunday and technically you weren’t driving, but the point still stood.

You had your nose basically glued to the window as the unfamiliar city sights bled into an equally unfamiliar, but timeless countryside. Fields, animals, trees, they all rushed past, familiar and new in the same breath. You were pleasantly surprised that this erotica world city didn’t have suburbs; who knew you just had to die to benefit from good city planning?

Kakashi’s fancy car was growing on you too, with its heated seats and spacious leg room, and you couldn’t deny that it was also having an impact on how much you were enjoying this drive. It even had six cupholders. Six. Kakashi didn’t even have that many friends in total, but even having the choice to have six beverages felt like a luxury experience.

Kakashi was also in his fancy car, of course, but he was considerably less interested in the view, and more interested in the paperwork he’d brought along. What a boring place to put one’s attention; you needed to rectify that immediately.

“If you could pick one of your dogs to magically learn English, who would you pick?” His pen not even slowing for a moment, Kakashi answered with no hesitation.

“Anyone but Pakkun.”

Hmm, maybe a harder question would work?

“What’s 472 + 9012?”

“9484.”

Something shocking perhaps?

“Does your pubic hair also defy gravity?”

“No comment.”

Oh, something weird would surely get his attention!

“If I were a worm, would you still love me?”

“No.”

You huffed, sinking down into your heated seat. He hadn’t even paused in the paperwork, so your plan had thoroughly failed. You wondered why Kakashi, a man you’d seen climb out of a window to avoid a work meeting once, was now diligently completing paperwork when he had a good excuse not to. Whatever, he’d probably already procrastinated on it enough that Iruka had threatened him into finishing it. No one ignored direct instructions from Iruka, even though he wasn’t technically high up enough to give instructions at all.

You sighed, turning back to the window to keep yourself amused, acknowledging that you’d lost the battle for Kakashi’s attention to his paperwork. Maybe it was the effect of the car journey, or maybe you were just sappy, but you quickly found yourself reminiscing.

Two weeks ago, you never would have imagined being here with him like this. It was almost difficult to wrap your head around how much your relationship had changed in such a short amount of time, how comfortable you’d both become with each other. Kakashi still took his role as ‘professional nuisance’ seriously of course, revelling in winding you up as what seemed like his main past time and hobby.

He was also still late to meetings, refused to do work, skipped lunch if you didn’t bring it to him… Okay, so maybe not that much had changed. But hey, you kissed frequently now, that was new! And your name was also currently the hottest topic in every break room at work.

That very first day after the tryst in Kakashi’s office had to have been your favourite in terms of gossip shockwaves. It had turned out that Kakashi did have another spare shirt for you to wear home after both your shirt and his first spare had been ruined, and the next morning, groggy and tired, you grabbed it to wear to work without thinking about what you were doing.

You had known that there was gossip about you and Kakashi leaving work together, but apparently the security guard’s version of events, that you had both come back to work together after hours, you without a shirt, and then locked yourself in his office, was in hot debate. Many refused to believe that terminal bachelor Kakashi Hatake would ever sleep with his secretary. ‘Something out of a bad porn book’, you had heard multiple times. How ironic.

So, when you walked in late, wearing Kakashi’s shirt, you corroborated the security guard’s story and confirmed the rumours all at once.

The break room fell silent the second you walked in, even though it had been filled with loud debate moments before. Everyone turned to look at you. Have you ever lifted a rock and had all the bugs underneath it suddenly freeze? It felt like that.

“Good morning,” you said, shooting everyone a hesitant smile. “Sorry I’m a bit late today.”

You watched as everyone’s eyes flickered from your face, down to your shirt, and then up to your face again. The room was uncomfortably silent.

Suddenly Asuma cheered, and chaos descended on the room. Not everyone seemed as thrilled as Asuma though. Kurenai only sighed and passed Asuma a handful of cash. Anko did the same, but with significantly more swearing and threats towards his delicate parts.

(You would find out later that Asuma had seen the security footage of your interview and had proceeded to make many, many bets that you and Kakashi would be fucking within a week. Because of Kakashi’s ‘no dating’ reputation, you were sure he had raked in a significant amount.)

Iruka’s face went bright red, and he sputtered for a moment before turning around and pretending to organise the mug cupboard. He did not succeed in hiding the small bit of blood now dripping from his nose.

In contrast to Iruka’s not so subtle hiding, Gai came right up to you and thumped you on the back, shouting about youth.

Yamato only stared at you, his already large eyes wider than normal. You weren’t sure what emotion he was embodying, but it was certainly creepy.

Maybe it was best if you just went to your desk?

Just as you turned to leave, Gai had one more final thing to say.

“I hope your love blossoms with intensity!” he said, giving you a thumbs up.

Why did that feel like he was giving you permission to fuck Kakashi?

People did slowly get used to the idea that you and Kakashi were something more than coworkers. It helped that you had lunch together most days, which gave people a chance to get used to seeing you together.

On days where your schedules didn’t align for lunch though, you made a point to grab dinner together. Your favourite by far had been dinner at his penthouse flat. Not only was that the night where you’d first called Kakashi your boyfriend, but it was also the first time you were introduced to his dogs.

It felt strange to be walking through a block of flats that was so fancy. The lobby had looked like something from a 5-star hotel, and you had had to show your ID before the front desk would let you upstairs, even though Kakashi had informed them that you’d be coming. Security reasons, they had said. You wondered what other high-profile people lived here.

Kakashi had the penthouse flat, so his was the only one on the top floor. You exited the lift and were immediately confronted with his front door. It wasn’t quite as big as the door in the library you had chosen his story from, but it was still an impressive size.

If you were being honest, it was a little intimidating.

The intimidation factor was shattered as soon as you knocked on the door however, because the second your fist made contact with the wood, a cacophony of barking sounded from the other side.

“Yes, yes, I’m going, you can stop barking.” You could faintly hear Kakashi’s voice through the door. “Bisuke! Get off there!”

The barking still continued.

“Sit, sit. All of you sit! I mean it, or you won’t be getting any treats today.”

Slowly, the barking and the sound of claws clacking ceased, and suddenly the door was pulled open. Standing there, in all his homey glory, was Kakashi.

You were used to seeing him exclusively dressed in suits, but he was wearing lounge clothes. Lounge clothes! Uptight, always ready for a fancy restaurant Kakashi, was wearing a grey tracksuit, with a long-sleeved top in dark blue, and fluffy slippers.

A smile grew on your face; perhaps you were biased, but these suited him a lot more. They still looked expensive, but they were just so much cosier than his normal get up. It made you want to hug him. You resisted for a moment before remembering what world you were in and what the point of this whole second life thing was, and then your resistance crumbled into nothing.

You threw yourself at him for a hug.

“Oof.” Kakashi floundered in surprise for a moment, but when you didn’t let go, he tentatively patted you on the back. You giggled and squeezed him harder, burying your face into his neck.

There were no scent patches! He wasn’t wearing scent patches! Giddy, you took a deep breath of his scent, letting it fill and sit in your lungs. Yes, he smelt utterly delicious.

Kakashi put his hands on your upper arms and gently tugged you away from him. His face was bright red. You could almost see steam coming out of his ears. You laughed at him but decided to show mercy and not tease him over his obvious bashfulness. You instead turned your attention to his dogs.

They were all sitting together to your right, tails wagging furiously. You could tell that if they had been any less well trained, they’d have been jumping all over you.

You opened your bag and pulled out a little something that you’d brought to make sure they liked you. When the dogs caught sight of the McDonald’s bag, their excitement obviously got too much to contain, because they all ran over to your feet, a couple jumping up at you, a couple barking, all looking eager to get their hands on the carroty goodness.

Kakashi, although you could tell he was amused, stepped in to corral his little gremlins. God, he was such a dog dad.

You had received copious wet kisses that day, mostly from the dogs, but also from a sappy Kakashi who had seemed utterly thrilled that you and his dogs got along.

You had had to make and study flash cards to remember all his dogs’ names, but Kakashi’s genuine smile as he watched you interact with them made it all worth it.

You had also met Charlie, Kakashi’s personal chef that evening.

The presence of his personal chef didn’t surprise you. What surprised you was when said chef made dinner for the dogs and then immediately left, leaving Kakashi to cook for you and him. It was exactly that abrupt, and you had laughed until you cried. Of course, he hired a personal chef just for his dogs. He spoilt them rotten.

You were sceptical as to how much skill he would have in the kitchen, but he produced a delicious meal with little trouble. It made you warm that Kakashi was so enthusiastic about cooking dinner you.

Cooking wasn’t the only way he was spoiling you though; he seemed incredibly willing to flash his cash for you, much to your delight.

“Have you considered a top hat?” you asked, picking up the worst top hat you’d ever seen and holding it up as a suggestion. Kakashi gave you a flat look. “What? If this Autumn Company Party thing is so important, you need to make an impression, and this hat would certainly make an impression!”

“I don’t want to make the kind of impression that has my board of directors attempting to oust me from the company.” He took the hat and placed it back on the rack.

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes. “If you didn’t want my fashion advice, why did you even bring me along to pick your outfit? I could have just waited in the car.”

The attendant that was serving you walked back into the room with a selection of ties based on Kakashi’s preferences. He laid them out on the stool for him to peruse. He had already witnessed a great deal of your banter, but if he was surprised by it, then he was too professional to let that show.

“You’re my personal assistant.”

You flicked the tie he was currently wearing up into his face. “That doesn’t mean I need to watch you pick out ties, asshole.”

Kakashi flicked you on the forehead in turn, rolling his eyes as he always did. “No, I mean that you’ll have to attend the party with me, and I figured you would need a new outfit. As you said, it’s important to make an impression, especially as this will be your debut of sorts.”

You snorted, pulling at one of the price tags of a nearby shirt. “Not in here, thanks. Just reading these numbers is making my bank account cry, I can’t imagine what buying them would do to it.”

Kakashi watched you for a moment, before he stuck his hand into his pocket. Out came his wallet.

‘James? Is what I think is happening, actually happening?’

‘I believe you are about to reach a major milestone in your goal to become a ‘gold digger’, human. My soul is warmed by your success, may it be prosperous and eternal.’

‘Thanks, James, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.’

Just as you predicted, Kakashi slipped his card out from his wallet and handed it to you. “Buy whatever you need, I can’t have my assistant looking shabby now, can I?”

You could imagine this scene in other stories, stories where you weren’t the lead. The MC would decline, either out of bashfulness or a sense of pride. Kakashi would probably then insist, and maybe MC would feel obliged to agree, but they would slip outside and purchase the outfit from a cheaper shop down the road to make a point. And then Kakashi would swoon because MC is ‘not like other alphas’.

You were the lead in this story though, so you took the card immediately, grinning from ear to ear.

“Fuck yes,” you said under your breath. Kakashi snorted, but he looked amused, not offended, by the way you were treating his money. “I’m going to dress up like royalty.”

You scurried off into your preferred section of the shop, Kakashi’s card clutched tightly in your grasp. You eagerly rifled through the racks. At several moments, you got the feeling that you were being watched, but whenever you looked back, Kakashi was fully focused on shopping. Maybe you were imagining it?

The Autumn Company Party had been coming up a lot. It was clearly the climax of the plot, but unlike Itachi’s story, you weren’t really sure what the plot was. James had no idea what would be happening at the party either, just that something would happen, and whatever that something was, it was heavily influenced by your actions. You had originally been apprehensive, but you figured that for a porn story, it couldn’t be anything too bad, so you focused on your excitement about attending such a fancy work party. You’d bet the hors d’oeuvres were going to change your life.

(You were confident because you had been the one in charge of choosing the catering company and the menu. Your job was pretty fun at times, even if your true career calling was independently wealthy.)

In between the planning for the party, your physical relationship with Kakashi had also developed over the last fortnight.

“You’re needy tonight,” you teased, curling your fingers just right. Kakashi shivered.

“On the contrary, you need to shut up.”

You tutted, “That wasn’t your best work.”

“Forgive me; I’m a little preoccupied.” You took that as an invitation to press at his prostate as hard as you could. Kakashi face screwed up in pleasure, and he made no more comments.

“Wow, who knew that you had an off switch this whole time? If I’d had known this little bundle of nerves had such an effect, my interview would have gone very differently.”

“The more time I spend with you, the less I’m surprised that you were single when we met.”

“Asshole.”

That had been during his first visit to your flat. You had the strange impression that he felt more comfortable in your home than his own, for some reason. Regardless, that night was the first time you’d gone all the way.

“Are you ready?” you asked, kissing on his collar bones to distract yourself from his tight warmth, and how much you really wanted to move.

“I was ready ten minutes ago. I’m not going to break the second you put any pressure on me, or in me, as it were.” Kakashi purposely clenched around you causing you to hiss. “Get on with it.”

You pulled away and narrowed your eyes at him. He only raised an eyebrow in response. Fine, if he wanted it rough, you’d give it to him rough.

…

“Fuck, I’m tired,” you said, flopping back onto the bed, exhausted. Kakashi looked much the same, panting hard from exertion.  

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he replied.

“…”

“…”

“Second round in the shower?”

“Obviously.”

Now that had been a fun night. Your activities didn’t stay exclusively in the bedroom though. You had quickly found that not only did Kakashi like it when you took control in social situations, like ordering for him at restaurants, he also liked it when you lightly teased him in public.

Nothing too extreme, of course, as there was a chance that such a thing would literally end up in the news if you were caught, but you had both made a game of seeing how many dirty messages you could hide in the other’s paperwork. You were winning, although the scores were close.

You were so glad that Kakashi’s morning meeting was being held in one of the rooms made entirely of glass. It meant that, although you weren’t in the meeting, you still had a prime view to Kakashi’s reaction when he inevitably found the note you had hidden in his folder.

You watched as Kakashi continued his speech to the board of directors, reaching for his folder to check something.

Oh, there, he was opening his folder!

The cover flipped open and Kakashi froze for only a moment, before he continued like nothing had happened.

You were impressed by his ability to keep his cool, you had to admit, but you still noticed the way his hand shook ever so slightly, as he snuck the note out of the folder and into his pocket without anyone noticing.

When the meeting finished, Kakashi walked straight back over to you, dropping the note in question on your desk.

“You’re incorrigible.” There was the slightest pink to his cheeks.

“So, you don’t want a rimjob?”

Kakashi gave you one of his signature flat looks, although the pink tinge ruined it somewhat, and wordlessly walked into his office, leaving you fruitlessly supressing your cackles.

To sum it up, you really liked him, and it was clear that he really liked you. You had seen his home, met his dogs, eaten his food, and seen flashes of the complexity bubbling just below Kakashi’s purposefully distant exterior.

In a moment of surprising seriousness, Gai had vigorously shaken your hand yesterday and told you that he’d never seen Kakashi as light and happy as he’d been these last few weeks. It was nice to hear.

You still didn’t like the fact that you had to work, but again, the job could have been a lot worse, and you were playing the long game. Technically, you were working right now, but Kakashi had asked you to accompany him on a mini road trip into the surrounding countryside. The days where Kakashi took you with him out of the office were your favourite, but today something was off. You had tired to write off Kakashi’s out of character behaviour as him just having an off day, but there was something about it that was really putting you on edge.

It was like he was trying to distract himself with the paperwork. You wondered if this meant his backstory reveal was coming up. Itachi had started behaving strangely when his worries about you rejecting him for his past were about to make themselves known. Maybe Kakashi’s backstory had something to do with where you were going.

Apparently, you were going to visit a house. Kakashi had mentioned that one of his properties (one of them, pfft, rich kid) required some maintenance. According to him, the roof had been damaged in a storm a few weeks earlier, and he needed to prepare the house for the builders to carry out repairs. Kakashi had described your tasks as mainly including clearing space for scaffolding, cleaning and packing away the breakables in the main rooms, and plugging in the fridge so the builders could store their lunches and have milk for beverages.

They didn’t seem like the kind of tasks that would cause a significant amount of stress. If he was doing things like packing away valuables and plugging in the fridge, it was probably a place he lived, rather than a rental or something. Maybe it was a summer home? You supposed that Kakashi was a very private person, so maybe he was on edge at the thought of having a load of strangers in his house without supervision.

Hmm, that sounded too simple for this universe though. You were due a backstory exposition scene, and maybe you spent too much time reading erotica, but this felt like it had ‘tragic backstory incoming’ written all over it.

“So, this place we’re going… is it a summer home? Oh! Or a summer estate? Is it a mansion? Does it have a pool, and can I use it?”

Kakashi didn’t take the obvious banter bait, he just kept his head down and continued signing documents, providing a short, factual answer.

“It’s none of those things, nor does it have a pool.”

“Aww.” You tried to play up your sadness with a pout. “I was excited.”

“Doesn’t your complex have a swimming pool?”

“I mean, yeah, technically, but this would be a private swimming pool, that’s way better.”

Kakashi chuckled, but his heart didn’t seem in it. You put a hand on his knee and squeezed. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face melted into something softer. He took the hand in his and gave it a squeeze in return.

“If it makes you feel better, the property does have a habitat for racing pigeons.”

“Wha—Really?!”

“No.”

“…”

“…”

“I hate you so much.”

…

As the car turned off the main road, you pressed your face back against the window to ooh and ahh at the sights. The road was less maintained and significantly bumpier, but you didn’t let the risk of a concussion stop you from your sightseeing.

There were bushes and flowers and pretty trees lining each edge of the road, and one more turn had you going down what looked like a private road, or dare you say it, a driveway. At this point, you were kind of expecting a mansion, no matter what Kakashi said. What other homes had long private roads? Unless it was some kind of farmhouse? You couldn’t imagine Kakashi owning a farm, but his name did mean scarecrow, so perhaps he’d purchased it as a joke? Did rich people buy property for jokes?

As the car slowly turned one last time, the house in question crept into view. It was neither a farmhouse nor a summer estate. No, it was a traditional, single story, Japanese minka house, set amongst a beautiful and equally traditional garden, framed by beautiful trees, all of which were orange and red and practically screamed Autumn.

The house was large, but not excessively so. At a glance, you would assume it had three to four bedrooms. The roof was sloped and covered in worn shingles, stretching out to shelter the sprawling engawa. Wood and stone materials were used heavily in the walls and decorations, and lamps hung from both sides of the front door. It was beautiful.

You were out of the car the second it stopped.

Now that you were walking up to it, you could see the stone pathways, the koi pond, the sliding glass door at the side, and the shutters on the windows. It was a minka house, but it had clearly been modernised.

You heard the sound of two car doors opening and closing and figured that Kakashi and his chauffeur had joined you in front of the house.

“This is completely gorgeous! I’ve never seen a modernised minka house before. If it’s not a summer home, what is it for?” There was no response, so you turned, breaking eye contact with the beautiful house to search for him. “Kakashi?”

He was standing a few paces behind you, just staring at the house in silence.

“Kakashi—”

“Let’s get everything out of the car,” he mumbled, cutting you off and turning away from the house.

“Kakashi—”

“There isn’t that much; we could probably carry it all in in one trip.”

His tone made it clear that he wasn’t interested in answering your question. You trusted that the narrative would push you into finding out what was wrong when the time was right, so for now, you broke the trance the house had on you, and helped to unpack the boot.

The supplies in the boot took the form of cleaning products, empty boxes, and a few bags of groceries and kitchen supplies. Between the three of you, it was light work, and soon everything was resting on the engawa, ready to be moved inside.

Having other duties to attend to, the chauffeur took his leave once everything was out of the car, leaving you and Kakashi standing in front of the house, side by side. You awkwardly waited for him to unlock the door, but he didn’t seem interested in moving.

You cleared your throat, “Um, should we go in?”

Kakashi jolted like a doll suddenly coming to life and fished the key out of his pocket. He unlocked it, and the door swung open, creaking all the while.

“WD-40 who? This house doesn’t know her.”

He sighed, “Just go inside.”

“Alright, spoil sport.”

Kakashi held open the door and you went inside, slipping off your shoes in the entrance.

Inside, the house was… confusing.

Your eyes darted left and right, trying to understand what you were looking at. It was traditional but modernised with new appliances, not strange considering the outside of the house, but it looked distinctly like it had been modernised at least two decades ago. It was immaculately tidy, not single object out of place, and yet the entire thing was covered in a thick layer of dust. To make things more confusing, it looked lived it, personal, with clutter and photos, but it had an overwhelming air of abandonment.

As you said, it was confusing. Vibe check thoroughly failed.

“It’s… nice?” you said, hoping you could force your voice into something sincere. “Traditional modern vintage? Troderage? Vinadern? Whatever it is, it’s interesting, and I—”

Kakashi cut you off by placing a finger on your lips. He looked amused and exasperated all at the same time. You went cross eyed trying to look at the offending finger, which only seemed to amuse him more.

“You don’t have to find something nice to say, I’m aware that it’s seen better days.”

You went to bite his finger, so he tugged it away, leaving you to snap unsatisfyingly at empty air “Hey, I’m not lying! I like it, it has potential! And potential is the more important thing for a property in my opinion. Like, sure, you could buy one of those awful modern renovated homes with no personality, but if I wanted to live in a white monastery, I’d just—”

Kakashi took one of the masks he’d brought and pressed it over your mouth and then stretched the elastic over your ears to keep it in place, effectively cutting you off once again.

“You know I can still talk through these, right?” you asked, voice slightly muffled, but still clearly understandable. He passed you a dusting cloth and a bottle of unidentified cleaning spray.

“Just… clean. I’ll carry the boxes through and start packing, okay?”

“You’re not the boss of— Oh.” That’s right, he was literally our boss. Good job this was a porn world, because you had a feeling that real world HR wouldn’t approve.

You were rewarded with another one of his eyes smiles as he snapped his own mask into place. “Chop chop, dear assistant of mine.”

Ugh, fine, whatever. Kakashi went back out to the engawa, and you decided to start by dusting the mantel place. If you dusted the photos and ornaments first, which practically covered the mantel place, Kakashi could get started with packing them up.

You started at the left end and grabbed the first picture. Confusingly, it had been laying face down. You hesitated, wondering if it was something Kakashi explicitly didn’t want you to see. You felt drawn to it though. Was that just you being nosy, or was this some kind of hint from your porn logic overlords? Was it moral for you to look when—Too late you already grabbed it and flipped it over.

Philosophising took too long.

It was a photo of two people, obviously a father and son, sitting in the garden you’d just walked through. The sun was shining, and both people were covered in mud, clearly having just finished some gardening. It was a sweet picture, but more importantly you recognised the two people from your google searches.

It was a photo of a young Kakashi and his father. This was his—

A hand tugged the photo out of your hand. Kakashi.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think—”

“It’s fine.” His voice was short, but at least he didn’t sound angry.

“This was your family home, wasn’t it?” you asked softly.

Kakashi sighed, turning away from you to put the photo in one of the boxes. “In a way. Although I haven’t lived here since I was four.”

You put a comforting hand on his shoulder, wondering if this was where you were going to find out about Kakashi’s angst. The death of his father had definitely made an impact on him, but you had a suspicion that there was something more to his angst than that.

Kakashi looked as tightly coiled as a spring, though. You decided to wait until he was more relaxed before you tried coaxing his backstory out of him. Some cleaning would get his mind off things.

“Let’s start with the dusting!” you said, artificially injecting some chipperness into the conversation. You saw Kakashi’s shoulders lift as you stopped prying into his backstory. “You should be careful though.” Hook.

Kakashi looked confused. “What? Why?” Line.

“Because we won’t be able to tell if it gets in your hair, old man.” And Sinker.

Kakashi scowled and threw a dusting cloth at your face.

…

Kakashi warmed up again as you worked. It seemed to help him, having a job to focus on, and of course, you were doing your best to keep his spirits high as well.

And honestly, all the cleaning and mood management was well worth it to see his baby pictures! He didn’t have parents to show you, so you were taking it into your own hands. You avoided bringing attention to any that also contained his father, but there was still plenty to work with.

You squealed, pulling a photo of a tiny, grumpy Kakashi holding a freshly caught fish off the wall to dust. “Look how cute you were! You know how to fish? I’ll be honest, I didn’t imagine that as one of your skills.”

“Will you stop—” Kakashi said, plucking the picture from your hands and hanging back on the wall. “Do you have to put effort into being so nosy, or is it a natural born talent?”

“Completely natural.” You grinned and grabbed the photo back, giving it a quick dust and then putting it in the box of valuables, cooing all the while.

Kakashi rolled his eyes, but you could see the pink dusting his ears.

“Hey, here’s a question.”

“Can’t you just dust?”

“Why was the outside of the house so immaculate, when the inside looks like it hasn’t been touched in a decade?” you asked, taping up one box and grabbing another empty one.

“I hire a groundskeeper for the outside, but I personally clean the inside.”

Your face spoke for itself as you looked around the room, still half-covered in dust. Kakashi sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “I haven’t done it for a couple of years, I admit.”

You laughed, grabbing the next photo to dust. It was another one of just Kakashi, although this time he was sitting behind a dog-shaped birthday cake, scowling at the camera.

“Did you ever smile?” you asked, holding up the photo. “Even now you don’t seem much better at it, always stone faced or rolling your eyes, do I have to teach you?”

You slid the photo under your arm so that your hands were free to push up Kakashi’s cheeks into a faux smile. You managed to hold his cheeks in a forced smile for a second, before Kakashi smacked your hands away, scowling. You sent him a cheeky grin, but he only yanked the photo out from under your arm and bent down to pack it away in a box.

What you did next, could hardly be held against you. You mean, it was right there, in all its glory: Kakashi’s toned but ample butt.

You pinched it.

Kakashi jumped before immediately standing and whirling around to face you. Your grin froze on your face as you noticed something intense flashing in his eyes, the kind of intense that promised revenge.

Oh, fuck.

You broke into a desperate run away from Kakashi, but he immediately gave chase. You ran around the coffee table and into the kitchen, thunderous footsteps sounding behind you. Your heart pounded and some hysterical giggles escaped as you ran through the second door in the kitchen, grateful that it wasn’t a dead end.

“Stop running and accept your fate!” Kakashi called from somewhere behind you.

“You’ll never take me alive!”

You ended up back in the living room, but you managed to catch Kakashi in a stalemate, with you standing behind the couch, and him standing in front of it. Every time he darted around one way, you went the other. You both stared at each other, watching for even the slightest hint of movement.

“If you give up now, I promise the punishment won’t be so bad,” Kakashi said with an unfairly attractive lilt.

“If you think I’m going to give in, then you’re as senile as the grey hair suggests, old man.” To further make your point, you gave him the middle finger. You weren’t really sure how this was going to end, because he would inevitably catch you, even if only because you arrived in his car, but you weren’t a quitter and you certainly didn’t surrender!

Kakashi chuckled, and then in a second, his whole body shot forward and the man leapt over the sofa towards you. You shrieked and continued running. Adrenaline pumping, you automatically ran towards the front door.

Unfortunately, all it took was one moment of weakness. There, in the doorway, you suddenly realised that you weren’t wearing shoes. You hesitated for only a moment, but that was all it took for Kakashi to catch up with you.

“Hidden technique: One Thousand Years of Death!”

There, in the doorway of Kakashi’s childhood home, you let out an ungodly screech as Kakashi’s fingers jabbed you in a place that you really didn’t want to be jabbed.

Your back arched and your butt cheeks clenched.

“You bastard!” you screamed, turning around to smack Kakashi’s chest. He was dying laughing, happily taking your smacks. “That wasn’t funny!”

“It was very funny,” Kakashi disagreed, moving backwards to dodge your smacks. “Although maybe not for the local wildlife; I think they might be traumatised after that screech.”

You huffed, gingerly rubbing your backside as you followed him back into the living room. “You know, you are completely and utterly— Woah!”

Midsentence, because this world was ridiculous, you slipped on a section of wet floor that you were 100% sure you had already dried. There was a split second of relief where Kakashi managed to catch you, before he also slipped on the floor, and both of you went crashing to the ground.

Kakashi hit the ground first, laying on his back, and you quickly followed, landing on top of him. Kakashi let out an oof noise as you knocked the air from his lungs.

It was the exact same thing as had happened with Itachi, except you were the one on top this time. Porn logic was just running out of ideas you thought, bitter at having been tripped on a wet floor that you had already dried.

‘Careful human,’ James interjected. ‘You do not wish you issue a challenge to porn logic, because in my experience, it does not take kindly to such things.’

‘Wait, really? What happens if I issue porn logic a challenge?’

‘The last alpha who did that… well, let’s just say that I doubt their penis was ever the same again.’

You loved porn logic. Porn logic had zero faults and you wanted to kiss it on the mouth, marry it even. It was just perfect in every way.

‘Good save, human.’

‘Thanks, James.’

“Are you going to get off me or are you just going to continue staring into space?” Kakashi’s voice jolted you from your conversation with James and you bashfully cleared your throat.

“Right, yes, of course, but I am going to use your tits as leverage to stand, just saying.”

Kakashi rolled his eyes, which seemed to be his go to response when he was in your presence but didn’t protest your grabbing at his chest.

You put your hands down and gave his chest a little squeeze, ooh, nice and squishy. You were about to push off him and into a standing position, when you felt something that wasn’t so nice and squishy.

In the inside pocket of his jacket was something hard, almost like a small book. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been notable at all if Kakashi hadn’t reacted. You would have assumed it to be some kind of paperwork or light reading, but Kakashi froze, and you’d seen more innocent expressions on kids caught with their hands in cookie jars.

“What’s that?”

“Paperwork.” Kakashi answered far too quickly for you to believe him for even a second.

“Well, if it’s only paperwork, then you won’t mind me having a look.” You grabbed the book out of his pocket, dodging his attempts to stop you. Your weight on top of him was keeping him pinned nicely, and moments later you had the book held triumphantly above your head.

“Now, let’s see,” you hummed, giving the book a look. It was a small yellow book, with large writing ‘Icha Icha’ over the top. The 18+ logo on the front was a damning piece of evidence. This was a porn book. How hilariously ironic.

“I can explain—”

“Kakashi!” you said, in a faux scandalised voice.

“I read it for the story!”

You hummed, considering his story, like a judge. Kakashi stared up at you, trying his best to be the picture of pure innocence, pleading with you to end the interrogation.

Obviously, you had no choice but to push things further.

“Well, I can understand that!” you said, chipper as ever.

Kakashi blinked, “You can? I mean, you can. Great, so if you could just give it back—"

“If the story is as good as you say it is, then I would love to give it a look!” Any hope that had started to bloom on Kakashi’s face died as soon as he registered your words. He tried to sit up, presumably to wrestle the book from you, but you used a knee to hold his chest to the ground. “Now, now, you wouldn’t be so cruel as to deprive me from such a great story, would you? If it’s good enough for you to be carrying around at work, it must be something special.”

Kakashi made another swipe for the book, but you simply held it above his reach. “I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“No, you don’t! Now, let’s see…” You flicked to a random page. “This page looks like a good place to start.” You cleared your throat. When it became obvious that you were about to do a dramatic reading, Kakashi groaned.

“You’re ridiculous, completely ridiculous. I should sue you for assault and theft.”

You ignored him, scanning the page. A feral grin blossomed on your face; it was perfect.

“Elisabeth grinned down at Makoto, hunger and lust warring for dominance in her eyes, reflecting the real life battle that Makoto had just lost. Makoto wondered what it would be like to have her mouth on his—” you gasped, clutching imaginary pearls. “Oh my, Kakashi, what are you reading?”

“I’m reporting you to HR.”

“Oh? And this” -you shifted your hips against his, watching as Kakashi hissed at the pressure on his rapidly rising cock- “is going to end up in the report too, I presume?”

Kakashi had no comment to make, but his rosy cheeks spoke loud and clear. You took that as an invitation to carry on reading. You skipped a few paragraphs to get to the really juicy bits.

“Elisabeth wrapped her hands around Makoto’s neck in a gentle mockery of a collar. Makoto bit his lip, overwhelmed by the imagery. He wanted her to own him, mind, body, and soul. But first, he needed his punishment. A punishment? How exciting! Do you remember what punishment Elisabeth is going to give to Makoto, Kakashi?” You rolled your hips again, delighting in the pleasured grunt you forced from him. Kakashi shook his head as a negative to your question, something you didn’t believe for one moment; the book was clearly well loved and had been read many times before.

You leant down over his pink face and gave him a chaste kiss. You saw his arms move and for a moment you assumed that he was going for the book, but he merely settled his arms on your hips before pushing his crotch up into yours. You hummed and kissed him again. He was such a brat.

“Makoto was forced to kneel at her feet. It was with eagerness that he anticipated the crack of her whips against his skin. He had been bad, he knew that, so he accepted his punishment with grace and also a raging boner. Ah, I see what you’re into. And just when I didn’t think you could be more cliché, the CEO is into BDSM.”

“And how many porn books are you reading to know that it’s cliché?”

“Change the subject all you want; you were the one caught with your proverbial trousers down.” Kakashi rolled his eyes. He seemed to have recovered from the minor embarrassment, because the light dusting of pink didn’t get any worse. You guessed it took more than that to embarrass someone who apparently caried porn around in their pocket of their work clothes. “Okay, okay, one more and then we can keep cleaning.”

You flipped through the book, trying for find the right scene to end it on. Hmm… Maybe you should let porn logic choose? It would probably know exactly what page to pick. You closed your eyes.

‘Porn logic, choose the page that will get the best reaction from Kakashi please!’

You flicked through the pages until you felt the overwhelming urge to stop, at which point you clamped your thumb down. You had landed on page 154.

To your immediate confusion, it didn’t look like it had any porn on it at all. It looked like it was just a sappy conversation between Elizabeth and Makoto. You debated picking another one, but after James’ warning about pissing off the porn logic, you decided to just trust it.

“Elisabeth, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say to you for a while, something important,” you read out loud. Kakashi let out a strangled noise as he realised what page you were on. His lightly pink face quickly deepened into an impressive red. Oh. So that’s how this was going to go.

“Fine, you win, can I have my book back now because—”

“What is it, Makoto? What could be so important that you called me here at this time?”

Kakashi whined, pressing his hands to his face. You had never seen him act like this before. You watched, fascinated, as you continued to read.

“Elisabeth… With all my heart, deeply and truly, I love you.”

Those final words were enough for Kakashi, because he easily broke out of your hold, knocking you off of him and onto the living room floor. Now free, he turned over onto his front and buried his face into his arms. You could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

It was as unexpected as it was adorable. You hoped this wonderful omega never stopped surprising you in the best way.

“Aww, Kakashi, I’m sorry,” you cooed, rubbing his back. “It’s okay to be a sap at heart, I won’t tell anyone! I want to keep this cute side of you to myself.”

Kakashi took a shaky breath before pushing himself into a sitting position. He was still bright red. “You are…”

“Are…?”

Kakashi gave you one of his eye smiles, reached out with a hand, and firmly flicked you on the forehead. “Annoying.”

It was such a weak attempt to restart the banter on a equal standing that you couldn’t hold your laughter in.

“You’re so pathetic,” you laughed, clutching at your stomach. “I love it.”

“So are you,” Kakashi said, pouting.

“I know, that’s why we’re perfect together!”

Slowly, Kakashi started to laugh too, joining your hysteria on the living room floor of his childhood home. You were leaning on each other, just completely lost in a weird joke that only you two could understand.

What a team you made. You really liked Kakashi. Honestly, you could say that you loved him at this point. He was just so fun to be around, fun to tease, fun to bite, everything. Being around him made you feel alive, and having money for everything you could ever need was only adding to how relaxed you had been feeling the whole time in this dimension.

You could see a very happy life here. You didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that you saw an equally happy life with Itachi. Your laughter petered out as you considered the impossible choice you were going to have to make.

The knowledge that no other person would ever enter this universe if you didn’t stay only made you feel guiltier. Was it worse to leave Kakashi alone forever, but with his money and friends, or leave Itachi with the possibility of another great love, but an equal possibility of being forced to settle with some awful person who just happened to die early and choose him?

You sighed, trying to put such heavy thoughts out of your mind for now.

Kakashi was watching you, a soft look on his face. His mask had slipped off at some point during the chase, so you could see his face unhindered. He was just watching you in silence.

You reached out a hand to cup his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, still staring at you like you were the centre of his world. “It’s just… it’s been a long time since there was laughter in this house.”

“I bet.” You smiled sadly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His backstory was so sad that whenever you thought about it for too long, it hurt your heart. It had been easier to read at first, when he had just been some nebulous, kind of dickish, person on a Wikipedia page, but now he was Kakashi, your Kakashi… It hurt to imagine him suffering.

His father had committed suicide when he was only four, and then Kakashi had been raised by custodians, forced into business from a ridiculously early age, and then been betrayed by those who were supposed to look after him as soon as he came of age.

“Kakashi? Can I ask you a question?”

“You? Of course. Always.”

“Do you…” You struggled for a moment, thinking about how best to phrase the question. “Do you enjoy your work? Do you like business? Because from what I understand, you didn’t really get much of a choice.”

Kakashi seemed baffled that you would ask such a question. His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“I… like my job,” he said, entirely unconvincingly.

“What do you like about it?”

He didn’t answer. That didn’t surprise you.

“Did you ever get a chance to follow your own dreams?”

Kakashi blinked at you, looking lost. He swallowed heavily. You rubbed your thumb on his cheek to try and comfort him. You understood that for someone who had never been given a choice, your question might have been quite jarring.

“What are your dreams, Kakashi?”

He stared at you and shook his head, still silent.

“You don’t know?” You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’s never too late to make dreams, Kakashi, remember that.”

“If you say so,” he said, trying and failing to keep a light-hearted tone. “We need to keep cleaning, you know, we’re burning daylight.”

You allowed the heavy-handed topic change to slid by without acknowledgment. “You’re right, come on, let’s get up. You’re buying me dinner tonight, by the way, as thanks for all this cleaning.”

He rolled his eyes, standing. “Fine, but I’m picking the restaurant, and I want it delivered.”

“Sounds good to me!”

…

You yawned, gratefully climbing into bed. This MC had invested in expensive sheets, and honestly you loved them for it. There was no better way to end a tiring workday than climbing into bed.

You couldn’t wait to either reject society and run off into the woods with Itachi or have a full-time profession as Kakashi’s eccentric trophy spouse. Work sucked.

You closed your eyes, and just as you were starting to drift off, your phone started to ring. Ugh.

You forced yourself awake. Your fake family and friends hadn’t even been invented yet, and you were already being bothered. You squinted at the caller ID. Oh, it was Kakashi. That was weird; he wasn’t a phone call person.

You answered the phone. “Hello? Kakashi? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for calling you.” His voice sounded strange. It was softer than usual, like his head was off in the clouds.

“That’s okay.” You waited for an explanation of his call, but none came. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, I… I was thinking about the Autumn Company Party and I…”

“Yes?”

“Do you think…” He stopped talking again. Something was off.

“Kakashi, you’re freaking me out. Please tell me what’s wrong?”

There was a pause. “Nothing, I’m sorry, I’m fine. Goodnight.”

“Kakashi—” You couldn’t get any more words out before he hung up the phone.

You sat there in bed, staring down at your call log, confused.

What on Earth had that been about?

Next chapter

[lee-hakhyun]

chapter 759

lhh panics.

"should we buy a cage for now?" "does the 'dokkaebi bag' have that?" "why don't you ask bihyung?" "what about a leash too?" "what kind of dog is ahjussi?"

orv is still erroring out. he can't cancel his skill. yoo joonghyuk is STILL holding him and staring at him with a strange gaze. he starts to think he'll really be locked up.

ysa finally decides to calm everything down and tells the group to stop playing jokes.

lsh, walking in with an animal cage: we were joking?

he's asked a question, but in his current form he can't talk. a system is set up: he'll blink once for 'yes', and twice for 'no'. each person will ask one question, and lee gilyoung goes first.

"dokja hyung... it's you, right?"

the most important question. is he kim dokja?

he blinks. three times.

it's true, and not true. he is kim dokja, but he is also not kim dokja. kimcom accepts the reply in their own way. lsh then warns that lhh's condition is off. orv 3 is unstable. it's only natural that it would be, as crossing worldlines is normally impossible. yoosung pleads for him to stay. she knows he has a place to go back to, that he has people who need him. but them, too... she chokes up and can't continue. but as he's demon king of salvation right now, and his incarnation's voice was clear.

「we need ahjussi too.」

by lee seolhwa's estimate, lhh has around 5 minutes left. everyone steps back, letting shin yoosung ask the last question. she asks why he came here. it's a question he can't answer. ysa hugs shin yoosung and rephrases the question.

"did you miss us?"

shin yoosung looks up then. maybe this was the question she really wanted to ask. lee hakhyun decides to think as kim dokja.

he looks at kim dokja's company. shin yoosung, lee gilyoung, yoo sangah, lee jihye, yoo joonghyuk... and even han sooyoung, who wasn't there. he wanted to remember their faces. like taking a picture, he slowly blinks.

tears well up in shin yoosung's eyes, and the rest of the group have similar reactions. yoo joonghyuk is still looking at him with that same strange gaze. ysa moves close to him, and whispers something that only he could hear.

"we know. dokja-ssi isn't the 'kim dokja' we remember."

"even so, we still think dokja-ssi is dokja-ssi. no one can deny that."

yoo sangah then moves back, and speaks again in a voice everyone can hear.

she says that he can stay here, if he wants. they can provide the probability for it. and they can help the 41st round. the rest of them start to speak up, and as they talk, the story of <kim dokja's company> begins to speak.

lee hakhyun can see the space between the lines. the part of kim dokja's company that was never shown. several from kimcom were not here. and yet they didn't blame him. they were saying it was fine for him to stay on top of the lines they had created. is his own story really that important? maybe han sooyoung was right when she said he wasn't qualified to write of the 41st round. it already has an ending, and it can't be changed. he could spend the rest of his life here, for kim dokja's company, who would be comforted just by him being here—

on the screen, he hears the voice of the 41st yoo joonghyuk.

even as lee hakhyun is here, the 41st round's yoo joonghyuk continued moving forward. toward the end of a story that would end in failure.

seeing him, he finally understood why kim dokja had not stayed in the 1863rd round.

shin yoosung desperately asks if he would stay. but all he sees is darkness, as she has covered his eyes. she tells him not to answer.

in the darkness, he hears yoo joonghyuk's voice.

"listen, kim dokja. regardless of the story you want, we will continue to create the ending we want. and you cannot stop us."

with a spark, orv starts to release. lgy helps the crying sys, and ysa thanks him for coming. seeing kimcom, he's convinced yet again.

kim dokja would have wanted to come back to them no matter what.

so why didn't he? what forced him to leave the people he loved most?

as his conscious fades, he hears a voice.

【do you really want to know?】

he could instinctively feel it. he knows the owner of that voice.

【even if that truth could ruin you forever?】

[tomssexdoll]

hiii i am OBSESSED with your writings 😄! I saw you wanted requests so here you gooooo!! the reader is apart of the band and it’s during one of their concerts and the reader is singing and dancing “sexually” ( for example the Water by Tyla dance where she twerks and pours water on herself ) and either tom or bill ( YOU CHOOSE BAE ) get so turned on and it ends with smut ( it can be rough smut since they are jealous at everyone else seeing the reader dance this way ) I HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE ! have a wonderful day ! 💕

HIII tysmm <3 ur actually so kind 😭😭

Tease

PAIRINGS: Bill 2010 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT + a bit of angst SYPNOSIS: Y/N is on stage, performing with the band, its her turn to sing and she does a sexual dance, Bill gets super turned on by this and also jealous since everyone was watching her do it. He wants her all to himself. After the concert he drags her backstage and locks her into one of the little office rooms and fucks her brains out!! A/N: ILY TYSM FOR THE REQ UR AN ANGEL WARNINGS: dom!bill, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), fingering, rough kissing, hair pulling

As Bill was singing Dogs Unleashed, my part was coming up. I had something prepared that would make him go CRAZY. I had seen him eyeing me for the past couple months, getting possessive and jealous when other guys approached me. But I played it off, we were just friends weren't we? I loved teasing him, seeing him get enraged when another guy even looked at me.

I started singing my part and dancing provocatively,"touch me, treat me, love me, feed me", touching my boobs, down to my waist and then to my ass "touch me, tease me, love me feed me" turning around and slowly getting low on the floor, swaying my hips as I did, my mini skirt hiking up a bit. (yk the shawty got low low low dance thing)

I looked over at Bill, his hard on visible from where I was and anger in his eyes. I could tell I was gonna get a mouth full after the concert.

We finished the concert and headed backstage, afte Bill changed out of his costume and into a regular outfit he grabbed my arm and dragged me into one of the empty offices, slamming the door shut behind him. "What the fuck is your problem Bill?" I groaned, my arm starting to hurt from his harsh grip.

"My problem?" he scoffed, "don't act stupid y/n, you knew what you were doing when you were doing that fucking dance" he pulled me closer, our noses barely touching.

"Why the fuck do you always have to tease me" he said, his voice low and threatening, I chuckled "teasing you? what?" acting dumb, he rolled his eyes "don't act fucking stupid, I see the looks you give me and the way you purposefully talk to guys to make me angry", "but we're just friends, aren't we Billy?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

His chest was heaving up and down, obviously angry and turned on at the same time. Unable to register everything he was feeling in the moment.

"Just chill out, I'll come back when you're not going to scream at me" I rolled my eyes, I was on my way to walk out the door but he grabbed me roughly and pinned me against the wall. "Don't fucking move." he said sternly, his voice threatening and dangerous. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped, he had never made a move this far before. It was always grabbed my waist or pulling me away, but this, this was new and I liked it.

"Okay.." I said quietly.

Without hesitation he smashed his lips into mine, grabbing the back of my head roughly, his movements passionate and desperate. I wrapped my arms around his neck, tugging at his hair slightly as his other free hand roamed my body.

"You wanna act like a fucking tease? Fine..but i'm not letting it slide" he muttered against my lips, lifting me up and laying us down on the couch, not breaking the kiss for even a second.

"I should do that dance every time we perform dogs unleashed shouldn't I, if it makes you this mad" I smirked, pulling away from the kiss. He only got more mad and tugged at my mini skirt, pulling it off with one swift motion, pressing his fingers against the wet patch on my panties. "Already wet huh? You get excited on making me this fucking angry?" he grabbed a fistfull of my hair, pulling on it as I moaned, nodding.

He chuckled menacingly and removed my panties, rubbing in between my folds and then shoving his 2 slender fingers into my pussy, causing me to gasp at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck!" I groaned as he pumped his fingers in and out, curling his fingers at my g spot.

"So fucking good! Holy fuck!" I moaned a bit too loudly, he pressed his lips onto mine again, "shut up.." he muttered lowly. I smirked against his lips and moaned into the kiss, giving him permission to slip his tongue in my mouth. Our tongues fought for dominance, his movements in my pussy only getting harder and faster.

"G'nna cum.." I squeaked, looking up at him. He grinned, going faster, curling his fingers harder. I whimpered softly, throwing my head back and cumming on his fingers, my legs twitching slightly as he pulled his fingers out.

He put his fingers to his mouth, licking all the slick that was on it. "mm.." he closed his eyes, obviously savouring the taste of my juices.

I reached over and unbuckled his belt, sliding his pants down. He helped by taking them off, leaving him in his boxers. My pussy ached for his cock, my clit swollen and needy.

He could tell, moving closer and rubbing his clothes erection against my clit, small moans leaving my mouth as I bit down onto his shoulder. "Just put it in me.." I grunted, thrusting my hips up.

"So desperate, are we?" he chuckled, continuing to tease me. I was getting frustrated and he knew it, continuing to tease me. I guess this was my punishment for being a teasing bitch for so long. I whimpered and tried to pull out his cock, instead of him complying and putting me out of my misery he slapped my hands away. "You don't just get to be a tease and get what you want, don't even fuckng try" he growled lowly, continuing to rub his erection against my pussy.

After 10 minutes of teasing me, my pussy was throbbing violently, I needed something, anything to put me out of my misery. This was literal torture.

I cried out "just fuck me already! I get it, I'm a tease!", he smirked "that's what I wanted to hear" he pulled his cock out and allinged himself with my entrance. Pushing in slowly, every inch agonizing.

"Fuck! Too much!" I whimpered, his cock too big for my hole. He grunted, trying to push more in "shut up! You wanted this, so you're getting it!" he finally bottomed himself out, retracting his cock before slamming it back in, starting off with a brutal pace.

He grabbed my legs and pulled me closer, pounding his cock into my pussy, hitting that gummy spot in me repeatedly. "Holy fuck!" I moaned, his hands moved to my top, taking it off and playing with my tits. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in closer.

He grazed his thumb against my nipples, teasing them. I cried out in pleasure as he started to suck my nipples, licking and biting them softly.

His pace became even harsher, abusing my hole. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in and kissing him roughly, slobbering all over each others mouthes.

His cock formed a buldge on top of my stomach, it slowly bobbed up and down as he thrusted in and out of me. He chuckled and pressed down on it, causing me to moan loudly, rolling my eyes back.

He did that a few more times before I smacked his arm "stop!" I rolled my eyes, he grinned and continued to ram his cock into me. A familiar knot started to form in my stomach, coiling down to my core.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum!" I screamed out in pleasure, holding onto him tightly as I dug my nails into his back, cumming all over his length. He moaned loudly, feeling my pussy clench against his cock, releasing all of his thick cum into my pussy. He fell forward, collapsing onto me as we tried to regain our breaths.

After we put our clothes back on and went back outside everyones eyes widened at both of us. "Had a fun time in there?" Tom smirked, I rolled my eyes "shut up Tom" walking off to get something to drink, Bill trailing behind me.

E/N: I LOVE THIS, I THINK ITS MY BEST FIC YETTTT

[bullet-clubs-bitch]

Wild Thing

Jon Moxley x fem reader

A young Jon Moxley meets Y/n somewhere in CZW in 2009 (inspired by Mox’s book)

Mentions: of blood, drug use, swearing, fighting, kidnapping

Main Masterlist

Tonight was my first match in CZW’s Tournament of Death. I stood pacing back and forth in the locker room mentally preparing myself for the events that would occur when I could hear Eddie Kingston yelling at someone in the hallway. He sounded mad. The other men in the locker room exchanged looks and oos before one of them said “She sure is a feisty one isn’t she” to which the men all began to laugh. ‘Who is this she?’ I thought to myself. Eddie then stormed into the room and slammed the door behind him, preventing whoever was behind him from entering the room. He leaned against the door and I could hear angry knocking from the other side. “What does she want now?” said Danny Havoc. (But I just call him Grant) .“She wants to be in TOD, Jon won’t let her” Eddie explained. I didn’t know who this girl they were referring to was but she seemed pretty badass to me. A female wanting to participate in the tournament of death?! “Of course she does! Let me talk to her” said Grant with his thick Jersey accent. Eddie then opened the door to reveal a tall blonde in a Juicy Couture tracksuit. I was not expecting that. 

The gorgeous blond stormed into the room before running into the arms of Grant. “Tell Jon Zandig that I should be in TOD!” she yelled “Now doll, why do you want to be a part of TOD? You know I love ya but you’re too pretty to be doing this kind of shit,” he told her. 

“I want to prove that I can do the same thing you guys can do. Why is it that there are never any women wrestling in these shows? You know I can wrestle! I train my ass off and what do I get back? Nothing, because no one wants to hire a girl. They only want female wrestlers for swimsuit contests and dog food fights. I’m sick of doing that shit! I want to go out there and taste my own blood. TOD or not I want to show these people that I know how to wrestle!” The room was silent. I felt like an outcast, everyone seemed to know about this situation but me. 

Eddie was the first to break the silence. “Let me talk to Jon again. You know he likes you Y/n. I’m sure if you promise not to do anything stupid he will put you in the opener without TOD stipulations” 

Sure enough, Y/n got her match. I watched the match backstage with Grant, both of us hypnotized by what we were seeing. “Who is she?” I asked him, he almost looked shocked that I didn’t know of Y/n. “That’s Y/n, she’s the most badass bitch I have ever met. They call her the Hardcore Barbie because she looks like a Barbie doll and lives off death match wrestling. She’s really nice if you don’t piss her off. She also has good weed.” he told me 

I was so fascinated with her. I needed to know more about her. “Anything else I should know about her? She seems young?” I asked Grant. “Well, she started wrestling when she was 16 and she just turned 20. I know what you’re thinking, she won’t sleep with you, everyone here has tried. It’s so funny that these freaks think she would get with them. She travels with Kingston and me, so don’t you dare try nothing. I will kill you with my bare hands” 

Grant and I watched the rest of the match. I had never seen such a beautiful match. Y/n did in fact know how to wrestle. The man she stood across the ring from was twice her weight yet she picked him up with such ease. The fans loved seeing a pretty girl like herself beat up a sweaty dude. Y/n had beat the man to a pulp, she pinned him 1..2..3 and it was over. I thought it was funny how Grant watched on as a proud parent, that was his girl. I thought about what he said, how she rode with him and Kingston. Why did Eddie never mention Y/n before?

After the show, Y/n officially introduced herself to me. I felt like I was hypnotized by her beauty. She noticed how nervous I was around her and she used it to her advantage, inviting me to hang out after the show with Grant and Eddie. I had to accept, how could you not? 

Eddie explained to me why he hadn’t introduced me to Y/n before. He told me she was known for using her looks to her advantage. “So like she sleeps with people for matches?” I asked him “That’s gross, she would never do that. She mentally fucks you. If you look her too long in the eye you’ll fall right into her trance. She hypnotizes you and manipulates you. She looks all sweet but trust me she has a bad attitude” “So why do you hang out with her then?” I asked him 

“Because she’s fucken wild. She’s so fun to hang out with and she always has weed. Someone needs to look out for her. There are creeps out there man. For god sake she’s a skinny tall blond who lives in Juicy Couture, what do you think will happen?” he told me. Eddie had a good point. 

That night Y/n and I became good friends. Eddie was right when she said she was wild. Once she had a few drinks in her and some of the good shit she was the life of the party. I didn’t understand why Eddie kept Y/n a secret, sure you could tell that she had a few screws loose but don’t we all? For fucks sake if someone willingly wants to participate in TOD you know there’s some form of mental issues going on.

Just then a man approached Kingston and me. He had a fresh buzz cut, was covered in tattoos, had what seemed like a freshly broken nose and looked like the kind of guy who would have women chained up in his basement. “Where is she?” he spat, in a thick Russian accent. I could tell that he and Kingston knew each other, the tension was thick in the air. “Where is who?” Eddie spat back, his New York accent being more noticeable when he was mad. “You know who, stop playing dumb, bum” he responded. “You’re a real fucking idiot, Sasha, she left hours ago. I have no idea where she went but even if I did there’s no way I would tell you” Kingston spat. The men stood chest to chest, eyeing the other down. I did nothing, even I knew not to get involved in whatever this is. Now I didn’t know who the ‘She’ was that they were referring to but by now I think I had an idea. Then Grant came into the mix yelling “I told you if you ever showed your face here again I would fucking kill you” Just then an all-out brawl began. The two men began beating Sasha to a pulp. That’s when I noticed Y/n had vanished into thin air.

I let Kingston and Grant take care of Sasha and went looking for Y/n. In the distance, I heard the sound of broken glass. I followed the sound and found Y/n smashing the windows of a beat-up junk car with a baseball bat. She was mad, she looked evil. Now I knew why Eddie had warned me. “Hey, hey, hey! What’s going on here? What are you doing Y/n?” She turned to face me and I made the mistake of looking into her eyes. Her once bright green eyes had turned a deep forest colour, the whites of her eyes now red. Her makeup was smudged and her cheeks were stained with fresh tears. I was scared. I felt like she was staring into my soul, being able to read my every thought, know all my secrets. “What do you want, Mox?” she said through gritted teeth. “I just want to know what’s going on here. Why are Grant and Eddie beating the snot out of a guy named Sasha?” Her face dropped at the name, that told me what I needed to know.

Just then I heard someone yelling and honking a horn in the background. I turned to find Grant and Eddie yelling at us to get in the car! Y/n and I jumped in the car and sped off. The car was deathly silent. No one dared to say a word. I looked at Grant’s hands that gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were bloody and bruised, that’s when I noticed the blood on Eddie. The silence was broken when Y/n began to laugh, Grant and Eddie began laughing as well. “What the fuck happened back there?” I asked with genuine concern in my voice. “That jackass back there Sasha, I broke his nose after he followed me home after the show last week. I don’t even want to think about what his intentions were, "she said. “Not to mention 'someone' stole $500 out of my purse at the show today” “If he ever showed his face around here again I said I would kill him” Grant responded. “I smashed his windows because that’s what he gets for trying to kidnap me and stealing my $500” I was honestly speechless. “ I found a bunch of money in his car so it’s only fair I split the reward with all of you,” Y/n said. I watched her pull the fat wad of hundreds out of her pocket and began counting it. “$500 for Grant, $500 for Eddie, $500 for Mox and $1,500 for me. Thank you, Sasha” “Thank you Sasha the rest of us chimed in” From that moment I knew Y/n and I would be best friends. 

[justmeinadaze]

Scary Monsters and Nice Sprites (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is that idea I told y'all about when my PTSD was really bad last week. I actually liked writing some of this out <3. It did help a bit. I wish I had them and a Red to help me through those rough days.

I did set this after the events of Season 4 so slight spoilers involving Max mostly. Im kind of excited to explore a bit more of Steve's PTSD involving the show. I did it a bit here. I also chose to utilize my own trauma as the readers trauma. I'll delve a bit more in the warnings.

Anyone struggling with their mental health, you are not alone <3. You're feelings are valid and we just have to take things one day at a time. I love you :)

Warnings: Steddie X Fem Reader, No smut yet, Fluff with the reader trying to make them feel better and vice versa. Angst, trauma involving the show is mentioned especially with Steve's feelings of what happened to Max, mentions of Eddie being blamed and the town treating him like trash, he does talk about his abuse as a child very briefly as does the reader. No details are mentioned just that it happened. Reader has a panic attack that the boys help her through.

I do expand on symptoms of PTSD and how the reader feels. Symptoms of mental health can be different for everyone so I focused more on what I experience with my own PTSD. As I progress in the chapters and she becomes more open with them I will most likely talk about things that happened to me. I didn't want to generalize what she was going through mostly because its hard. PTSD and trauma are complicated in it of its self so...

Word Count: 5314

You had been coming to this group for years because of your mental health. Your doctor suggested it stating that it might help you to hear from other people going through the same thing you were. Truth be told it never worked. The other people in this post traumatic stress support group were mostly military vets or officers who had just moved to Hawkins to “get away from the chaos.” You imagined it was a quite a shock for them when the earthquake hit…

While a lot of their symptoms and aftermath stories were similar to yours, you struggled to connect. If anything, you felt more alone. So why did you keep coming back?

Routine, maybe. Or the need to have any kind of human contact since you spend the bulk of your time by yourself at home. Hell, you even worked from home so the only living thing you interacted with on a daily basis was your service dog, Ren. You rarely ever spoke in group, choosing to sit there and listen to the other people speak. 

Since the earthquake, however, more people had joined to your dismay. Most of the citizens that came in took up most of the time talking about the event and how scared they were about what happened. You tried not to let the disgust show on your face when they spoke, understanding that everyone experiences things differently but they didn’t really know. 

They didn’t know what it was like to spend years replaying an event in your head even when you’re asleep. To have those moments where something that would be random to someone else meant something significant to you triggering a panic attack that knocked you on your ass for the rest of the day. They didn’t know what it was like to be so scared to even go to the fucking grocery store to get essentials without the fear that everyone is talking about you and judging you because you’ve been standing in front of the canned goods for a little bit too long wondering if you buy this will you actually eat it or will it just sit there for months at a time because some days you don’t feel like eating. 

Your PTSD consumed a lot of your life for most of your life whereas these people were just now stepping into it and were most likely going to step right back out. After a few months, you were correct. All those citizens gradually stopped coming in till it was just the regular survivors once again. 

After grabbing some coffee, you and Ren sat in your usual spot, waiting for the meeting to start. The dog grabbed your attention when he whined and without warning placed his head on the stranger beside you. 

“Oh. Hey, buddy.”, he coos as his big hand reaches down to pet his head. 

“I’m sorry. He probably senses your anxiety.”

“Well shit. He’s not wrong. I’m not really good at any of this.”, he gestures around the room. “But some of my friends insisted we come so…”

“We?”

“Yeah, um…” The boy’s eyes glance up towards someone headed for the seat next to him and it takes you a moment to realize everyone else’s eyes on him as well. 

You recognized his face immediately, Edward Munson. The metalhead had been accused of being a satanic worshipper who murdered a bunch of teens a few months ago. He had been cleared of those charges thanks to the help of the old police chief, some detective journalism by Nancy Wheeler, and his friend… “Steve Harrington?”

“That’s me. Do I know you? My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

“She had school with us and graduated along with you, Harrington.”, Eddie sighed as he folded his arms.

“Oh. I’m sorry. What was your name?”

“You look different.”, you blurted before turning away from him and closing your eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry. Sometimes…my mouth moves before…before my brain catches up.”

Ren senses your heightened anxiety and places himself between your legs so you can pet his head, down his back. 

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.”, the overly cheery coordinator grins as he sits down and crosses his legs. While glancing at his clipboard, he addresses the circle. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share before we get going?”

“Why is he here?”, someone sneers as they point towards the metalhead. 

“He should be in a cell not in group therapy.”, says another.

“Hey now. Mr. Munson is entitled to care just like everyone else and I expect you guys to treat him with the same respect we do everyone else. If that’s going to be a problem, I completely understand, feel free to leave and meet us at our other scheduled time on Thursday.”

Half the people in the room stood up and walked out, the last person slamming the door of the room for emphasis. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Steve pat his back comfortingly as Eddie lets out a deep, heartbroken sigh.

“Would either of you like to introduce yourself to the rest of the group?” 

The metalhead continued to glare forward as Steve spoke up. “As some of you may know, I’m Steve Harrington and this is my friend Eddie. Our other friend Robin suggested we try this since we, uh, we’ve been having some trouble lately.”

“Good, very good. Nice to meet you both. This is a safe space so please feel free to be open here.”

“Thank you.”

“Let’s, uh, let’s continue down the line here. Y/N? Do you feel like talking? I see Ren is on duty today. Something you’re anxious about?”

“Everything.” The man chuckles as people around the room nod in agreement. “I’m ok today, thanks.” 

The remainder of the meeting goes by smoothly without any incident and as it ends everyone rises to leave except the two people next to you. They expect you to leave as well but when you stand, instead of heading for the door you place yourself next to Eddie. He doesn’t move or make any gestures to acknowledge your presence and you’re ok with that. You aren’t really one for small talk or anything like that but something about his demeanor gave you a gut feeling that you decided to expand on. 

Your therapist was always preaching about learning to trust your gut and positive self-talk making your eyes roll every time. 

“Um, this is Ren. He’s a service lab for me because I, uh, I get shaky and anxious really easily. He can sense when I’m nervous or about to have an attack so he helps ground me. I can just pet him or he’ll let me hold him. At home, he’s trained to bring me my medication.”

Steve watches you speak, seemingly trying to get a read on you while Eddie continues to stare straight ahead. You can tell he’s listening though because his head tilted ever so slightly towards you as you began explaining things. Personally, he was so ecstatic to hear a stranger talk calmly with him but he couldn’t display that for fear of ruining the moment or worse, it being a lie.

“Do…do you want to pet him?” 

His head finally whips around to look at you as his eyes scan yours. Swallowing nervously, he sat up straighter, rolling his eyes in faux frustration as his palm reached out to pet the dog’s head. 

“Why Ren? How did you come up with that?”, Steve asked.

“The morning before I got him, I saw Footloose at the cinema. I like Kevin Bacon’s character and his name was Ren. Do you want to see something cute?” Without waiting for an answer, you stood in front of them and motioned for the lab to stand in front of you. Holding out your hands, you sang the Footloose theme song and he jumped up to place his paws in your hands to dance with you.

Both men smiled and you knew you’d never be able to explain why but it comforted you. 

“I, um, I know this town can be full of assholes but I hope you do come back next week. Craig, the coordinator, will take care of you. He’s a little quirky but he’s nice.”

Again, you don’t wait for an answer as you gather your things and Ren before heading out the door. 

****

When Steve got home that night, he immediately went on the hunt for his yearbook. 

“What are you doing, man?”, Eddie whined as he threw himself on the bed. 

“Looking for my yearbook. I’m surprised I don’t remember her. The guy said Y/N, do you remember her last name?”

Of course, he did. When you were in school together, he had a few classes with you especially English. Junior year you wrote a story that the teacher made you read in front of the class about a girl who was hiding in a forest behind a tree as she watched two monsters argue about how they were going to eat her when they found her. The other kids thought you were weird but he identified with it; picturing his parents fighting as you read.

Eddie never found the courage to speak to you but he was always your hidden knight, watching over you. One of the party boys had talked about how they fucked you and how much of a freak you were so he slashed the kids tires and spray painted “Asshole” in big, bold letters on his car. You probably didn’t remember but on valentine’s day he had slipped a note in your locker that was a drawing of you battling your monsters you had written about. 

“No. Come on, Harrington. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we’re going back anyway.”

Steve paused his search as he sat down and crossed his legs. “Why wouldn’t we go back?”

“I don’t know if you noticed but people weren’t exactly excited I was there.”

“Fuck those people. At least one person was excited. Two if you count the dog.”

“Yeah sure. Let ruin that by bringing her into our shit. Plus, it’s not like we can tell anyone or talk about what really happened.”

Steve sighed as he got up to sit beside him. “Ed, first off, there isn’t shit to bring her into. Vecna’s dead; we killed him. Secondly, we don’t have to talk about what happened…just what happens after.”

“Really? You want to play that game, Steven? He may be dead but we still got shit. Max is still in a coma, Dustin is still struggling, the town is quite literally cut in half, and ALL of us still have fucking nightmares with all that other fun post traumatic shit. Things are still so out of whack we haven’t even told our friends about us yet.”

“They have enough on their plates.”

“Exactly. So, I reiterate, why do you want to bring this girl into our chaos?”

The man sighs again as he hangs his head making Eddie feel a little guilty as he leans his head on his shoulder while reaching for his hand.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about her that makes me feel comfortable and safe.”

###########

“You came back.”

“Yeah, it took some convincing but…”, Steve grinned. “Hey Ren. May I?”, he asked before petting the lab when you nodded. 

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?”

The metalhead softly smiles at you as he tilts his head in your direction. When the meeting begins you can already feel that the energy is different. One of the regulars is extremely agitated today as his leg bounces and he folds his arms. As soon as Craig reaches him, he shouts his problem as he struggles to control the volume of his voice. Your eyes close as you try to stay present and remind yourself that your safe.

No, no, no. Please. I can’t have a panic attack here in front of all these people. Everyone will look at me. They’ll think I’m weak. No, no, no.

“Y/N?”, the coordinator calls your name and you fold into yourself. “Y/N, you’re ok. You’re safe.”

Ren places his front paws on your knees as he rests his head on your shoulder. You couldn’t do this, pushing him back as you stumbled out the door into the hallway before sinking to the floor.

Your service dog continued to do what it was trained to do as he ran after you and laid beside you in your arms. The sound of your bag and a bottle of water being placed beside you startled you but you couldn’t move to acknowledge it.

You felt your head being lifted and placed on something relatively soft as you continued to try and calm down. It took a few moments but once you felt like you could breathe you opened your teary eyes to see Eddie looking towards the window.

“Hey, hey, take your time.”, Steve soothed in a soft tone when you tried to sit up. “I grabbed your bag and some water. Do you need your meds or anything?”

“C-C-Can you help me?”, you asked as you reached your arms back to try and push yourself to a sitting position. He leaned over to help you adjust as you laid against the wall with your head on the metalhead’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.”

“I didn’t want you laying your head on the hard floor. I hope that was ok.”, Eddie tenderly grinned. 

You nodded, watching heavily as Ren dug his snout in your purse before producing your medicine and placing it on your lap. 

“Good boy. Steve, in there is his treats. Can you give him one?”

He smiled as he did what you asked and your dog wagged his tail happily. 

“Do you need help?”, Eddie whispered.

“I don’t want to be any trouble.”

Without saying a word, he grabbed the meds from you lap and opened the bottle, shaking one into his hand and popping it closed. He placed the pill near your mouth and your eyes met his as you slowly opened, allowing him to place it on your tongue before holding the edge of the water to your lips and tipping it back. 

“You’re not any trouble. I…we…appreciate you being as kind as you have been to us.”

As he extended his arm to place everything back in its proper place, his jacket sleeve slid up and you noticed some slight scaring around his wrist. When he felt your eyes on him, he followed your glance, quickly covering it up as he leaned back. 

“Thank you for coming out here. You didn’t have to. I struggle with aggressiveness like what Jeremy did in there.”

“Is that not normal for him?”

“Usually, no but I imagine this earthquake and the aftermath hasn’t helped him with his flashbacks.”

“How has it been for you?”, Steve asked.

“Um, not to chaotic. I had a harder time a few months prior when this town was going crazy and playing police officers like they were the law or something. Oh shit. Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even—”

“No worries, sweetheart. I’m used to it now; the stares, gossip, and questions.”

“Should you be?”

His eyes met yours again before quickly looking away as the door to the group area opened and people filed out. The man who had been yelling came over to where you were sitting and apologized in a much more gentle tone then he had previously. After accepting it and smiling towards him, you slowly wobbled to your feet with Steve helping to guide you.

“Are you ok to drive? We can take you home if you’d like.”

“No, I’m alright. I just need to eat something and get a little energy back.”

“Would you like to have dinner with us?”, Eddie offered carefully.

“Sure.”

***

As the three of you entered the restaurant, your eyes darted around as your brain did its regular anxiety check. You made sure to clock where all the exits were and how to get to them, scanned the current patrons to make sure no one was someone who would hurt you, and marked which seat you would prefer to be in just in case you needed to run. 

When you glanced towards Steve, you blinked back surprise when you realized he was doing the same thing. 

“I have to leave, Harrington, but get it to go and we can eat in my van. If that’s ok with you.”

You nodded, panicking slightly as he walked back out the door, unsure of what he was hiding from. To avoid another episode, you did the same leaving the other man to order. When you made it outside you found Eddie in the driver’s seat smoking a cigarette, his eyes darting to you when you climbed into the passenger’s side. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I saw Jason’s parent’s eating at a table so…”

“I never thought you killed those kids.” As soon as the words blurted out, your eyes squeezed shut. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Finger reached out to touch your arm causing your eyes to open again, meeting his kind chocolate-colored ones. 

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

When you apologize again, both of you let out a breathy, genuine laugh. 

“When I saw on the news what happened to Chrissy, I knew you couldn’t have done it. Yeah, you were always loud in school but you were also really sweet… at least from what I remember.”

You two jumped when Steve opened the back of the van and threw himself in. “Eddie, go.”

Without any hesitation, he started to put the vehicle in gear but he wasn’t fast enough as Jason’s father appeared by his window and aggressively knocked on the glass. 

“Where do you think you’re going, freak?! You’re the reason my son and his girlfriend are dead!”

“Go, Eddie!”, Steve commanded.

The metalhead slammed his foot on the gas and sped off with the man shouting behind him. The rest of the ride was silent until he parked near the hill that surveyed the town. You watched as he continued to grip the wheel like a lifeline as his chest rose and fell. You wanted to help but you didn’t know exactly how. They only thing you could think of was to grab his palm and place it on Ren’s head. The dog was used to limp pets as Eddie’s hand lazily fell down his back but he promptly rested his head on his lap as you praised him. 

Steve leaned over the seat and placed his arms around him as he whispered things in his ear furthest from you. After a few moments his hand began to move against Ren’s fur making the dog’s tail wag as the other boy released him from his hold. 

“Come on. Let’s eat.”

############

It was actually the perfect evening for eating outside. The van doors remained open as the three of you munched on your meals in the back. From this spot Hawkins looked different; less chaotic than it was.

While you guys ate you casually talked about yourself. They told you some general things about themselves and you did the same. Even though you felt safe with them you didn’t want to bombard them too much with the mess that was your life. You felt like they were holding back as well, omitting certain information they were afraid to tell.

“You can work from home, you know?”, you mentioned after Eddie brought up how hard it was to find a job because of who he was. “That’s what I do.”

“I could do that.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard for you, Ed? You’re very talkative and outgoing. Don’t you like thrive off of people or some shit.”

“Thrive off of people… No, Harrington. I’m not a vampire.” They grinned at each other when you giggled. “I mean it wouldn’t be much different. Everyone already thought I was a freak beforehand. Now I’m just a murdering freak.”

Everyone went silent as the metalhead turned away to glare outside. 

“You should stop saying things like that.”, you murmur. 

“It’s how they feel.”, he shrugs.

“Who cares how they feel. What matters is how you feel and the truth. You didn’t do it so stop saying it.” Eddie’s eyes jerked towards you as your tone got more agitated.

“Yeah, well, what would you know?”

“Eddie, stop it.”, Steve warned.

“It’s ok, Steve. I can handle this. I’m mentally ill not weak.”

“No one said you were weak, Y/N.”

“What makes you so confident I didn’t do it, hm? You weren’t there. Maybe I did.”

“Eddie…”

“No, Harrington. I’m curious. What makes her so confident? I have to know because besides my friends and my uncle you are the only person in this town who believes I didn’t do some satanic ritual to murder Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason. That I didn’t hurt Max to cause that fucking earthquake. Why?”

Steve angerly threw the water bottle he was drinking from hard against the inside of the van making you jump.

“Jesus Christ. Are you fucking kidding me, Ed?! We finally find one person who believes the truth and you have to fucking question it! Who gives a fuck why she believes you! Just embrace it.”

He crawls out of the vehicle and begins to pace as he lets off steam. Ren puts his head on your lap and you pet him as you watch Eddie climb out as well and hug the boy from behind, resting his cheek on his back. 

“I’m sorry if I startled you.”, Steve apologized without looking your way. 

“You didn’t. I…I feel safe with you, both of you. That’s why I believe you. I can’t explain it, Eddie. I wish I could. My therapist says that because of my trauma I had to learn how to read people so I could protect myself and prepare just in case. You two…I just don’t get this vibe that I need to be afraid of you.”

“Like a superpower?”, the metalhead grins softly as he comes to sit back beside you. 

“You could say that.”, you giggle and his heart melts. Abruptly, you lean over and wrap your arms around his shoulders, feeling his body stiffen only for a moment before fully accepting it. “You’re a good person Edward Munson.”

Steve watches you both as he stands in front of you, also taken aback when you turn your love towards him by hugging him to, circling your arms around his lower back.

“You to, Steve Harrington.”

****

The following week you were happy to see they attended group again and seemed so much lighter than they had the other times they had come. As the meeting started, once again you felt that shift in energy. 

“Y/N, I know you don’t talk much here and that’s absolutely fine. I was hoping maybe we could talk about what happened last week.”

“Oh, um, I don’t want to make Jeremy feel bad.”

“I’m ok. I want you to talk about it. It helps me understand…”

You gnaw on your bottom lip at his answer as Craig looks at you with earnest eyes. “I, um, he got aggressive and I panicked.”

“He did get verbally confrontational. Was it the yelling or what he was saying that triggered you?”

“The…yelling doesn’t…doesn’t really bother me or what is said. It…how it was being said.”

“Huh. Interesting. Please, go on.”

“My mom…was always kind of…forceful with her words…”

You don’t see it but both the boy’s protective modes had kicked in beside you especially Steve’s. It takes all his energy not to comfort you in some way. Yesterday, you had hugged him and Eddie but you three had been alone. Right now, you were in room full of people and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He settled for casually extending his legs a bit so his knee was just barely touching your own. 

“I don’t want to talk anymore if that’s ok.”

“That’s fine, Y/N. How about you Steve? I noticed you and Eddie got up pretty quickly to make sure she was okay. I’m sure she appreciates that. Are you usually the protector of your friend group?”

He smirks slightly. “They would probably say I’m more like the babysitter.”

“That’s funny.”, the coordinator laughs. “I have seen you around town with some of the younger kids like Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler. You and Mr. Munson there.”

“How’s Max Mayfield doing?” Both their heads shot up to look towards the member that asked the question. “Is she doing any better? I heard her mom is wreck.”

“Jackie, you know the rules. We don’t gossip in here.”, Craig scolds. 

“I’m not gossiping! Max was dating that Sinclair boy, right? Who hangs out with Michael and Dustin who apparently hang out with them so…I just want to know.”

Ren, who had been laying on the floor by your feet, suddenly sat up and waddled between Steve’s legs before lifting himself up so his head was on the man’s shoulder.

“Hug him.”, you whisper as you reach out to rub the boy’s back.

Slowly, he wraps his arms around him and pets the dog’s head. “Good boy.”

“Let’s, uh, Let’s move on to someone else.”

As the coordinator began talking to another person, Steve got up to leave as you and Eddie followed behind. Unlike you, instead of sitting in the hall, he continued to the parking lot towards his BMW. 

“Steve, wait. Wait a second!”, the metalhead called to him trying to keep up.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go home.”

“If you’re fine then why are we leaving?”

“Because I know they are going to ask about her again and I don’t want to hear it so…”, he aggressively gestures towards the car. 

“Isn’t that the point of this therapy group bullshit? To talk or whatever the fuck you said. This was your idea. You can’t just drag us here and then leave when it gets hard.”

“Ok, well, you know what? You were right, okay? We can’t talk about what happened so—”

“But they aren’t asking what happened. They are asking how she is. They already think they know what happened.”

“Fine! Fine, Eddie! Let’s go back in there and answer her question! ‘Oh yeah, Jackie, Max is fine. Just all of her limbs are broken and she’s in a fucking coma but hey the doctors say she’s not brain dead! Always a silver lining!’”

“Steve…what happened to her wasn’t your fault.”

“Fuck this. I’ll walk home.”

The metalhead ran in front of him, trying to block him with his body. “What happened to her, me, Dustin, and Lucas wasn’t your fault. You killed him. You, Nancy, and Robin saved us all but you’re not fucking superman, babe. You can’t be everywhere at once and can’t protect everyone.”

Steve’s head hung and they clung to each other as Eddie embraced him. When they disconnected, they were almost startled by your presence, forgetting you were there entirely. 

“Hey, um, before my brain glitches, I drew you something last night.” Eddie digs in his pocket and hands you a folded piece of paper. 

When you open it fully, you softly smile at the image of you in boots and a superhero style outfit with your palm in the air as a zig-zag force field surrounded you. Next to you was Ren with his tongue hanging out and mask over his eyes. At the top was bold 3D lettering that read “LADY EMPATHY” with smaller print underneath; “Senses Emotions and helps heal the innocent with her trustee four-legged side kick Anti-Depressant.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but you loved it. No one had ever done something nice like this for you except that one time someone slide a drawing into your locker.

Your eyes met his as a light bulb went off in your head. 

“Do you two want to come over to my house? We can hang out and eat some food. I would like to show you something.”

Eddie glanced at Steve who nodded his approval. 

“Ok. Sounds like fun.”

****

“Wow, this place is really nice.”, Steve muses as he looks around. 

“Thank you. I don’t have much but I don’t need too much so…”, you shrug as you watch them move around. 

“You seem to like a lot of movies, huh?” Eddie walks around looking at your posters hanging on the wall. 

“I do especially the fantasy ones. It’s nice to hide from reality in movies like The Never Ending Story or Dragon Slayer. I can’t wait for Labyrinth to come out. You know that new Bowie movie?”

The metalhead chuckles when Steve shrugs. “He doesn’t know who that is, sweetheart. Steve isn’t exactly well versed in most media.”

Your eyes widen as you head towards your sound system and push in a cassette. “Let’s Dance” flows through the speakers and he bobs his head he listens. “Pretty cool.”

Eddie laughs harder when you playfully sigh as his musical ignorance. “Yeah. Welcome to my world. What did you want to show us?”

After disappearing into your room, you come back with a frame in your arms, the image facing your body. 

“When I was in high school, I was pretty good at being invisible but sometimes I wasn’t so lucky. The jocks would pick on me a lot and pretty girls like Tammy Thompson would make my life hell.” Steve sighed praying that he wasn’t one of the people who hurt you. “That was nothing compared to what I was dealing with at home. My parents…they, um, they weren’t nice with each other and sometimes…my mother would take that out on me.”

“I always loved English class because I could write about what I was feeling. One day a teacher had asked me to read something I wrote in front of everyone. I told him no but he insisted and as I stood there, I could hear people snickering. It was awful; I hate talking in front of people. But anyway, a few days later, I found this in my locker.”

You turned the frame around to display the image Eddie had drawn for you as you slowly moved toward him. 

“You have no idea what this did for me. In a world full of people where I felt like no one cared, this showed me someone was listening. Someone out there did care…at least enough to take the time to draw this and give it to me.”

Eddie’s eyes met yours as he spoke. “I related to it, your story about the monsters and the kid hiding. My father used to scream at my mother until it escalated. I would always hide in my room hoping I wasn’t next.” Steve came over to stand next to him and rub his back comfortingly. “Turns out I can’t fight any monsters, can I, Stevie?”

The boy growled under his breath as his hand fell. 

“You were always amazing to me. You seemed so smart and strong; I was so afraid to talk to you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your story so I drew that and slid it into your locker.”

“So…my superpower works? I was right about you. You are a good person.” You smile when he smirks in your direction. “You guys can talk to me…about anything. I won’t judge you or hurt you or anything. I trust you and I hope that you can trust me.”

They glance at each other and you see the hesitation in their look. They a definitely holding something back but you pray that one day they’ll feel comfortable enough to let you in. Little did you know, the massive secrets they could tell.

[popopretty]

[Translation] Bungou Stray Dogs Projection Mapping (in collaboration with Kadokawa Culture Museum)

This is a projection mapping displayed on a huge bookshelf inside the Kadokawa Culture Museum. The projection lasts for about 5 minutes, with a short conversation between Dazai and Atsushi, of which the script was written by Asagiri Kafka specially for this collaboration. Videos and recordings are not allowed inside so I can only share some photos and the translation of the scripts here. Please note that it is based on what I heard and remembered so there might be some mistakes. Also the collaboration started from August 2022 so it might or might not relate to the recent events in the manga, it’s all up to your interpretation.

TRANSLATION AND IMAGES UNDER THE CUT

The projection starts with Atsushi climbing up the bookshelf and falling off it.

Atsushi: Oh no. I have to put them back!

Dazai: Huh? Are you sure it is here? The book that has an impact on Atsushi-kun?

Atsushi: Dazai-san? Yeah, I’m sure it’s a book from this shelf but… I can’t find it now.

Dazai: Without that book, we might not have won that battle against the enemies, right?

Atsushi: Yeah…

“In days gone by I never repented of my acts. I was sorry only for what I didn’t do.” Had it not been for the words from that book, I might have not been able to make the right decision. What is it called again…? I can only remember the title was like, something written by someone…

Dazai: Pft… In other words, you don’t remember anything.

Atsushi: Sorry… You came all the way here with me yet…

Dazai: Nah, if you cannot remember, maybe now’s not the right time to remember it. Books sometimes behave as if they are testing us, that’s why.

Atsushi: Testing us?

Dazai: Have you never experienced that? You happened to come accross a book you didn’t know nor have any interest in. Then you picked it up and what’s written in it stayed unforgotten in your heart till years later. That kind of experience.

Atsushi: Dazai-san, do you read too?

Dazai: Huh? You thought I didn’t? Without reading, there is no intellect. It’s the daily consumption of foods that makes our bodies. But it is the letters and words that builds our souls. When you stand here, you will understand what it means. Look around you.

Atsushi: You’re right. There is something very…

Dazai: Yes, remember this well. Books, at times, behave like intelligent life forms, beyond a mass of paper and ink… If Atsushi-kun hadn’t read that book, we would not have won that battle. We must not take books lightly. Because there are some switches that can only be pressed through reading a book, quietly hidden in the darkness we think we are in.

Atsushi: Ah, I see. That book I read… it would be exaggerating to call it a fated encounter, but I feel like there is an important meaning to it.

Dazai: That’s what I thought. Atsushi-kun, maybe there is a reason you have a special role in there as well.

Atsushi: What kind of reason?

Dazai: It will reveal itself sooner or later... Well, now that I have achieved my goal of showing off as a senior in front of my junior, guess I’ll go back and sleep (yawning)

Atsushi: You didn’t come here to help me search for the book at all, did you…

The projection ends with Trash Candy playing on the background and a very cool presentation of the characters' skills. It is such a shame that I can't share a full videos with everyone, but live photo is a lifesaver this time.

One last thing, even though the BSD collaboration will officially end today, the museum also does regular projection mapping on the same bookshelf and it is just equally cool so if you ever have chance to visit this museum, please give it a try. You will find a lot of BSD goods and related stuff around this area too <3

Thanks for reading till the end :3

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 3: How wonderful life is while you're in the world

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Thanks to @reallyrallyauthor for turning me onto the Pic.

Warning: sex mentioned, aftercare.

Words: 1159

Steven and I were having a day in. Sitting next to each other in bed while we each individually reading. I glance over at him at the same time he glances at me and I smile.

“You a’right there love?” He gives me his usual cheeky grin and soft Puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, I’m good baby.” I lean in and kissed his cheek. “I love our lazy days. Just you me and a couple good books.”

“Me too. It’s nice, but I am having a little bit of a hard time focusing on my book.” Steven says with a chuckle

“Yeah and why’s that?” I put the bookmark in my book and smile at him as he does the same.

“Well, with you sitting right here, In these cute little PJ shorts…” his hand glides up my thigh as his hand reaches the edge of the shorts she slides his hand along the edge teasing.

“Well… I didn’t mean to be distracting baby…” I smile at him and move to straddle him on the bed making him instantly blush. “Does this help?” I tease.

“Uhm…depending on your definition on help?” His hand landing instinctually on my hips, as his face flushes brighter and her looks up at me biting his lip slightly. “Gods you’re beautiful. Just my luck innit? Getting to see you every day…we’re just really lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you, all of you.” I say softly as I lean in and kiss him softly on the nose. And then on the lips. A small whimper leaving his lips as I taste his lips. I slide my tongue over his bottom lip to encourage him, his lips part and I take the opportunity. Our tongues played together, my hands go up into his hair as his hands run up my back pulling me in closer. Just then the bedroom door creaks open and Layla chuckles

“You two getting busy without me?’ She teased.

“What did you want to join?” I asked with a smirk as Steven turned an even deeper shade of red.

“I think…I wanna watch.” Layla says seductively as she takes a seat on the bed opposite us. “If that’s okay with you Steven.”

“Y-yeah...Of course Love.” He managed to stutter out.

~

When Steven and I went on our first date I had already decided I was telling them yes but figured it was only fair to give everyone a chance.  Steven and I met at the local Science and History museum. I was a little nervous, I was meeting Steven for the first time, what if…

“Sorry, so sorry I’m late love.” The British accent made my heart leap in my chest, he wore his curls loose, a kind of goofy patterned shirt under a over shirt, he was adorable, something I would never say of his other two alters.

“It’s alright, I didn’t even notice.” I smiled as I turned to him.

“Woah, you look amazing!” He looked me over, I laughed, just a dressy top and Jeans was apparently enough to wow him.

“Thanks Steven. I’m glad to finally meet you.”  I took a step closer and gave him a hug, which he reciprocated with the most adorable surprised sound

“I-It’s good to meet you too.”

As we make our way through the museum Steven is listing off facts and telling me interesting stories about almost everything we come across. At some point he’s explaining something about the formation of the quartz in front of us when I reached for his hand taking it in my own and weaving my fingers in between his. He stuttered for a second as he looked down at my hand and smiles softly.

“That’s nice…I like that.”

“I thought you might.”

“You’re…I mean…I really like you.” Steven looks at me with a shimmer in his eye, a smile on his lips as he squeezes my hand

“I really like you too Steven.”

“That’s good…Can I…Can I keep holding you hand?” He asked innocently

“I’d like that.” I smiled.

~

I was heavily panting, Steven also breathing heavy on top of me as we ride out our highs, My eyes look over his upper body covered in marks from our love making, I lean up and kiss him softly, a soft moan leaves his lips. I feel a soft touch on my face and I see Layla out of the corner of my eye, her dark eyes filled with love.

“Ya helo, look at you…so pretty under him...” She murmurs

“Layla…” I look over at her and reach out to hold her hand as Steven leaves kisses along my neck, he cuddles in close, his naked body against mine as Layla leans in kissing me softly, soft lips on mine, our fingers woven together as she leans in. the Smell of her Egyptian musk perfume tickles my senses as she drags her fee hand along my chest.

“My beautiful girls, I just can’t get enough…” Steven caresses Layla’s hair and Kisses my neck again. I softly moan into the kiss as he sloppily glides his tongue along my neck. Layla chuckles slightly in to the kiss before puling away, I let out a soft whimper of protest.

“Shhh…that’s it pretty girl, be good for me now, I’m gonna go start dinner.” Layla says as she runs her thumb across my lip before giving Steven a quick kiss on the shoulder and heading out of the room. Steven looked at me with a loving look in his eye. His soft expression is endearing. I lean in and give him another soft kiss. Running my fingers through his dark curls.

“I love you…” He says softly as he presses his forehead to mine.

“I love you too…I always will.” I reply with my hands still in his hair. He lets out a soft chuckle.

“Will you always be happy like this? We’re married to Layla…We can never marry you…Doesn’t that bother you?” Steven asks with genuine sadness in his eyes.

“No it doesn’t, Steven I don’t need to be married to be happy. I’m happy just being with you. My life is better with you all in it and that’s all I need.” I stroke his face gently as I say this in an attempt to reassure him.

“That’s…That’s good.” He smiles relieved and gives me a soft quick kiss. “You know we’d marry you too…If you wanted…Jake thinks about you in white all the time.” He chuckles softly, I can imagine Jake cussing him out for telling.

“Does he now? Well, sometimes in the poly community we do things like commitment ceremonies, they’re just like weddings but nothing legal about them really.”

“That sounds nice. Maybe someday we’ll do something like that yeah?”

“Yeah maybe someday.” I smiled at the eager look in his eye, I get the feeling Jake might not be the only one who wants to see me in white.

~

Translations:

Ya Helo: my beautiful

Masterlist

Next Chapter

[justatalkingface]

So in light of the absolute fuckery that's been Chapter 407, I want to talk about All For One, because I don't think I've ever really talked about him.

I don't mind that he's evil for evil's sake, I don't mind that his ultimate goal is to take OFA so that he can take over the world and make everyone reliant on him or whatever. I don't mind that he nearly took over Japan back in the day. But like everything else Horikoshi touches, AFO had potential that was ultimately squandered away.

I hate how he was literally pure evil IN FUCKING UTERO, I hate how he was barely even utilized (outside of Kamino Ward, which that was fucking awesome) before he tries wrestling control of Shigaraki to be the main villain again. I hate how even though he allegedly has hundreds upon hundreds of Quirks, he spams the same 3-4 ones, and I hate how for supposedly smart and devious he is, we never see him utilizing UA's bad PR or his traitor to his advantage.

It's kind of weird to say this, but I both miss AFO, and feel sorry for him. I know he's been in the story a lot, but... it feels like AFO, the real one, fucking died at Kaminio, and his idiot corpse has just been running around since with Hori's hand up his ass.

Before Kamino, AFO was evil, yes, and and we didn't know about him, but he felt like a real person; an asshole, but he was something you could imagine a super-powered mob boss could end up being.

Since then, though? He's just been becoming more and more... shallow. It's like Hori was hinting at these dark, mysterious depths of ancient man, and then he pulled the curtain and showed us a fucking puddle. And now? All the mystery, all the backstory?

'BeCaUSe i'M EEEEEEEVVVILLLL'. Unironically, it seems to be his only motivation anymore. He does bad things because he's evil; he doesn't actually want to take over the world, that's just something he's doing because taking over the world is evil. Money? Power? Ultimately worthless, nothing more than tools for the purposes... of EVIL!

So... here's the question: why is he evil?

Because he was evil when he was an adult. Why was he evil as an adult? Because he was evil as a kid, apparently, instead of anything more interesting like him slowly being radicalized by Quirk Discrimination. Why was he evil as a kid? Because he was born evil, instead of anything more interesting like a terrible family, or because a police officer hurt him and traumatized him for life. Why was he evil when he was born?

??????

Because he was born of evil genetics, maybe; I wouldn't put it past Hori to make him unironically Quirk Satan or something. The thing is, that's not how human beings work; even an actual sociopath isn't going to be born this gibberingly, one-dimensionally evil. Worse yet, it's fucking boring to have a human being this basic; at this point why aren't they fighting a robot, or monster or something? It'd have the same level of motivation, and it'd feel more interesting than this.

Even ignoring how stupid he's become post-Kamino (which is a related but different point, best summed up by post-Kamino AFO is basiclly running around with his pants on his head, constantly getting one upped by the heroes, the kids, and basiclly random strangers by now), AFO was at his most interesting, not only when he was competent, but when he felt like a person; there's a reason DFO is so popular, and it's not just because it drags Izuku into it, but because it humanizes AFO, gives him real, human motivations to make us interested in his character.

The worst part of it? There's been so many chances to make him more than this caricature of a human being; by making him care for Shigaraki (or for Dr. Plot Device, or even Kurogiri, his loyal minion, before he was Eraserhead's seemingly somewhat retconned 'human interest' (which was barely a thing), or even just for Gigantomachia, who is basiclly a giant, super-violent dog, who he could have cared about like he was just a giant dog), or for him caring for his brother.

I mean, shit. In all honesty, I could make the 'biting baby' thing work, even. Ideally, it'd need some set up beforehand, but you know how Himiko is (the only one we've ever seen) with desires from her Quirk? Do something similar to how Yhwach in Bleach was on AFO, with that kind of logic, with him needing something, at this fundamental level, to be functional, that he's almost addicted to stealing Quirks, that AFO as a Quirk only works as a Quirk because somewhere in his magic DNA he's... unstable. That the very versatility that allows him to hold every Quirk is starving for the stability of a normal Quirk, so that even as a infant, he's instinctively trying feed himself something a normal human would never need.

There's this whole, interesting dynamic this would introduce, a real nature/nurture-y kind of thing, that would put a whole new spin on his character; he's this seemingly pointlessly evil person because his needs, combined with the only real role model he had for someone in his situation, the demon kings he's seen in manga, and a society that rejected him, both as someone with a Quirk by the normal humans, and as someone who could take away their Quirks by the Quirked, turning him into this because that's all he's ever known.

And here's the thing? This idea? Hori could still try to do that. He could try to turns table us with this sudden development, and try to make a real boy out of AFO. But I don't think he's going to; I really don't think he'll do that. Worse, even if he does try that, he'll just double down on AFO being 'born evil' instead of anything with any real depth to it. Do you know why I think that?

Because in all honesty, AFO isn't a real character anymore; he hasn't been for awhile now. All he is is a plot device, the duck tape Hori's been putting on everywhere to try and hold the story together against all the plot holes and logic failures that have been built up from years of bad, biased and rushed writing. More and more, he's become the reason for everything, the cause of every problem Hori can't be bothered to think through, every villain he didn't want to actually have to explain.

The Readers/The Characters: Why did X happen? What caused that? How does Y feel abou- Hori: AFO did it. I ain't gotta explain shit.

And that's the real reason he's so stupid, BTW, the reason he never uses any other Quirk, or applies any creativity in combat (or anywhere else), and why he keeps losing... it's for the plot. Because the thing is? AFO is fucking overpowered.

Let me tell you something I've never seen anyone else acknowledge: All Might never should have won. He overpowered AFO, sure, but we saw from their fight that he barely did that; didn't crush the puny caster AFO once he got past the lasers, his one super Quirk barely out-performed AFO's stacked Quirks in direct combat. Which, yeah, sure I can see that....

But. Why did AFO fight fair, just power against power, blow vs blow? Why didn't he, like, release poison gas as they fought? All Might is strong, but he still has flesh, blood, lungs; he's still very vulnerable to all kinds of softer Quirks. Where was the touch activated Quirk, like that kid from the License Exam, would have turned All Might into a meatball, or taffy, or whatever? Where was the voice activated Quirk that would have stunned All Might for a critical moment?

Hell. Why didn't AFO cheat? Why did he fight All Might, like an honorable person, when he realised the man was possibly a threat to him, instead of just... assassinating him, like a crime lord (or demon king)? Go to his home (or Might Tower, or wherever), drug his food, put something in his water, hell, just launch a surprise attack from point blank range? We know he tried for Eraserhead's Quirk once, before... apparently just giving up and never trying again; why didn't he try again, get it, and use that?

And beyond even all those problem, I don't see a reason for OFA to have survived long enough to get to All Might in the first place!

I mean, seriously: we know that every user fought AFO, viciously, to point where it caused their early deaths (except the one that basiclly started to Snap himself out of existence). We know OFA was only slowly building up in power, and the early versions especially didn't do much at all, and the Quirks all of them had where never top of the line because they were literally just a random person nearby when the Holder before them died.

So. Riddle me this: why, when a bunch of honestly mid-tier people tried, again and again, to kill AFO, who was overwhelmingly stronger than them, who had access to more tools, powers and money than they did; why, when all these factors were stacked against them, did they survive to the point where they could even pass OFA on? How did they survive blows strong enough to destroy buildings, laser blasts, all these powerful Quirks and techniques that AFO uses casually that most heroes would have been instantly killed by, if not flat out destroyed.

I mean... fuck, there's a decent chance AFO knew they had OFA in them, which he wanted (for whatever reason; sentimentality clearly isn't a emotion he's allowed to have, and early OFA wouldn't have been worth the effort for him to go through all of this to try and acquire it), which means instead of just killing them, he would have captured them, taken them back to his base, and then tortured them until they gave him OFA, just so they would finally be allowed to die and not hurt anymore? While I'm at this, why didn't he just kill any pedestrians around after he killed whatever OFA Holder he was fighting; it's not like morals are going to stop him, are they?

Fundamentally, MHA is built off the premise that AFO, terrifying criminal genius with countless Quirks, strong enough that he makes people by him hallucinate out of terror, is so pants shittingly stupid that he spent almost a hundred years basiclly punching himself in the face rather than just winning fights that were ludicrously stacked in his favor again and again and again; I mean, hell, he could still be an utter moron, and as long as he just got lucky once, just once, the giant, unending sequence of coincidences and logic breaking victories that allowed All Might to get his Quirk never would have happened.

None of this, of course, is even mentioning everything happening in the Final Arc, like AFO's obvious weakness to allow him to be finally beat forever appearing out of nowhere, in him having Remnants (even though AFO took eight users to to power it up enough to get to the point that AFO was apparently always at, and us having no reason to think this was a thing before now, much less all the absolute nightmare fuel questions that raises about the Nomu, and all the Quirks that AFO's doctor had stored away), and Eri's Quirk actively accelerating to heal him, thus limiting his life span (or the fact it's even working like that in the first place), even though it's a time Quirk, not a healing Quirk, and it doesn't fucking care about how wounded he is.

So, why did it happen? Why is it still happening?

Because he's a plot device. Because he exists, not as an active character with his own agenda, but as an adjustable target for the heroes to fight against, again and again and again, and if he won, the story would be over. Fundamentally, Hori made AFO too strong, too smart, too well connected, too perfect to every truly lose in this setting, and instead of trying to fix that, in any real way, impose some kind of realistic limitations or drawbacks in his wildly over-powered Quirk, or just kill him off so he wasn't a factor anymore, he just... made the man stupid.

[fexalted]

watching tos for the first time since like, roughly 2012/13-ish? i don't remember what year it was, or why i only got thru most of season 1 before stopping

it's been fun to refresh my swiss cheesed memory with this tho so here's a semi-liveblog of the first 10 eps that i watched over the past couple weeks

1x01 - the man trap

things i remembered beforehand:

salt monster

"plum" uwu

that gay little run and crawl jim does when he's taking cover (it fills me with such delight)

things i did not remember:

how many people died, good god man it's only the first episode

1x02 - charlie x

things i remembered:

jim's bright red exercise pants

that stupid fucking face charlie makes when he uses his powers

not liking this ep at all when i first watched it, possibly due to me being around the same age as charlie at the time

additional thoughts: i enjoyed it more this time and felt more sympathetic for charlie. poor kid needed some parents, and also, like, a hug

1x03 - where no man has gone before

things i remembered:

bones isn't in it :'( (bored) (sad) (missing my bestie)

"James R Kirk"

that post i saw on here recently about how their contacts were made of glass

the only thing i could think about while watching:

their contacts

were made

of GLASS

(yes i understand this was how contacts were made back then. still freaked out by the concept of people putting glass in their eyes on purpose)

1x04 - the naked time

things i remembered:

sweat disease

sulu fencing

oh kathleen

"ONE-MORE-TIME!!"

"love mankind"

spock breakdown (extremely uncomfortable to watch)

bones casually ripping jim's shirt sleeve to jab him in the arm (extremely hilarious every time i think about it)

did not remember:

anything about them almost crashing into a planet lol

jim's little monologue when he gets infected (lmao)

time warp???

additional thoughts: hey remember when they reused this plot in tng and tasha and data fucked (<- literally the only thing i can remember about it) ((edit from future fex: i rewatched that ep. it was wild. tos did it better tho))

1x05 - the enemy within

things i remembered:

unicorn dog :)

evil kirk and poor little meow meow kirk

"I'M CAPTAIN KIRK!!!"

things not remembered:

dog dies :(

evil kirk's killer eyeliner

additional thoughts: say what you will about shatner / his acting but this ep is Peak shatner performance and a lot of fun to watch. he put his whole pussy into it, as the kids say these days

1x06 - mudd's women

things remembered:

could not forget harry mudd if i tried

the women are color coded like the powerpuff girls lol

they're also like, on some kind of drug that keeps them looking young or something

cool costumes tho

i don't have much to say about this one lol, harry's a fun character but the rest of the ep wasn't super interesting to me. did finally learn how to pronounce "ophiuchus" tho so i'll thank it for that

1x07 - what are little girls made of

things remembered:

is this the penis rock episode (it is)

uhhh i think kirk gets put into some kind of spinny machine that makes androids (he does)

more cool costumes (debatable)

things i find funny:

the number of planets we've encountered so far that are populated by like. 2-4 people

the way ruk (the big guy) just picks up and throws kirk like he weighs nothing

so much buildup with kirk and the penis rock and he doesn't even get to hit ruk over the head with it smh

also not a funny moment but i liked the way kirk was able to get a message to spock thru the android kirk, v clever

wait i just realized bones wasn't in this ep either. deducting 1/4 of a star from my mental rating bc i missed him (but apparently not that much)

1x08 - miri

remembered:

planet of children (bc everyone else died of terminal puberty)

"no blah blah blah!"

bones tests his newly discovered, untested cure on himself, in true mad scientist fashion (also spones moment <3)

saw this ep on a "what's your fave 'bad' episode" poll here recently and i can't remember if i thought it was good or bad when i first watched it lol

forgot:

another earth?? there's just a second, identical earth floating around out there?? and (of course) they don't mention it at all for the rest of the episode

300 year old children

oh these kids are so much more annoying than i remembered, however i may just be biased bc i don't like kids shfkshfk

1x09 - dagger of the mind

remember:

absolutely nothing! oh boy!

thoughts:

wow this ep is fucked up!

okay actually i don't think i've seen this one at all before?

usually there'll be moments that jog my memory but the only thing even slightly familiar to me was kirk going "helen don't go!" while in the neutralizer chair, but i could've just seen a clip/gif of it before

i remember skipping episodes in season 1 (i was impatient and wanted to get to city on the edge of forever) but i thought i'd at least made it to halfway thru the season before skipping any

anyway did i mention this ep is fucked up? (star trek really does love to drop an absolutely haunting 50 minutes of television on you and then never address it again, i understand this now. roll credits!)

1x10 - the corbomite maneuver

remember:

uhh

there's a thing out there

it's in the way

preventing them from boldly going, even

looks like an old windows screensaver

i might've skipped this ep too now that i think about it

thoughts:

cute mckirk moment in sickbay :3

i love that this cube has its own theme music whenever its on screen

oh shit it's the sequel to cube: orb

jesus christ that's a big orb

man they really said "okay we've got 3 music tracks and we're gonna get our money's worth out of them"

i gotta say this ep slaps tbh—WAIT HE'S A BABY???

LITTLE BABY MAN

LMAOOOOO

honestly great episode tho i'll stand by that

[ao3-oner]

i really love the gen.g members in your LCKverse ! can you please share a few random gen.g headcannons

Thank you so much for the ask! I love them so much too and am always happy to share more about them. For now, here's an assorted handbasket of hcs:

Kiin LOVES dogs, has wanted one ever since he was a little kid, but his parents never let him get one because they said it was too much responsibility. He wants to get one as soon as he retires from pro-gaming and has his own place, and has even pitched the idea of getting a team dog back when he was on KDF, but the idea got shot down. He likes cats, too, but is extremely allergic to them so sadly he has to keep his distance :(

Canyon has a sweet tooth, which may not seem like that big of a deal but for those of you who don't know ShowMaker hates anything sweet or sugary, so Canyon's kept this a secret for years. He may or may not have gotten busted by deokdam while sneaking a caramel from the Dplus dorm stash at 3 am back in '22 but he was fiercely sworn to silence and the issue never came to light. On GenG, he lets himself indulge a bit more, but he'll still freeze up on occasion when someone enters the room as he's unwrapping a sweet or mid-bite of a dessert.

Chovy has prepared for the event of one of his friends/colleagues getting stuck in a timeloop by preparing a specific loop codephrase that only he knows, so that if anyone else says it to him, he'll know they've lived through that same day before. He's also already started brainstorming a list of likely reasons why he or someone else might get stuck in a timeloop so that if someone does approach him he has a few ideas of what to try. No one knows why he felt the need to prepare so much for this hyperspecific fantasy scenario, but some have speculated that he watched a movie about it when he was young and ever since has had an irrational fear of groundhog-daying. Else maybe he just read the handful of LoLRPF fics about time loops and wanted to be ready, lmao-

Peyz first started playing League after watching Faker win Worlds in 2017 - prior to that, he primarily played solo-play games like card battlers and online board games. When he was eleven, he overheard some of his classmates talking about League and decided to watch the World Finals in hopes of making friends that way. After that, he gave it a try, and learned that he really liked working with other players - he did need to be in a carry role, though, in case the rest of his team wasn't up to standard. It was a few years later when he told his parents that his dream was to become a pro-gamer.

Lehends watched a TON of b-tier soap operas (k-dramas?) growing up and it used to drive his family crazy because he'd recite the most random lines from it at inopportune times (cue young Siwoo in detention because he told the teacher 'you only think that because you're pregnant with her husband's child', which is evidently not an appropriate response to being told he answered the math problem incorrectly). His television use was regulated after that, but then he discovered webtoons and got his tacky romance fix that way. If he's having a bad day, sometimes he'll still queue up one of his old favorites, maybe an episode of a drama that he can recite every word to, and curl up under the covers with snacks and act out the whole thing to himself.

That's one for everyone, but their group dynamic is very fun as well! If you watch their streams/vods you know that they all play arena with each other pretty regularly, and I love how they all take care of each other, especially how they all tend to Peyz. In my mind, Gen.G is essentially Peyz's adopted father (Canyon), mother (Chovy), tired uncle (Kiin) and wine aunt (Lehends), which is kind of hilarious because Peyz already has a way better home life than any of the four of them, yet they're all so devoted to taking care of him.

Thanks again for the ask, and have a great day <3

[hungrydolphin91]

ok I had to go make my own post about Eugene Cassette Beasts, it's not fair for me to fill up everyone else's tags w how much I love this guy. I wanted to speculate a little about his backstory here cause it honestly fascinates me and I feel like I havent seen this happen much in other media, much less turn based monster collecting RPGs.

So Eugene is from a future world (seemingly the only party member who is except maybe Barkley but he's a dog so.) It sounds like he's from the turn of the century, maybe 2100 or so, and mentions in his rank 3 friendship that in his world, there was a massive reformation when society as a while realized they couldn't keep fucking each other over and destroying the planet, so everyone worked hard to abolish the kinds of structures that unilaterally hurt people (for instance, capitalism). Sounds like a utopia right?

Eugene only says good things about his world really, how much people value acts of goodness and kindness. But he says it all with such a sad tone, like something he's missing out on, because he thinks he is, he didn't fit in. He says that he wasn't great at being helpful all the time, which is why he wants to do better in New Wirral, a world removed from his own where he can be a better person than he was in his own world.

But the thing is, he IS a nice person. Maybe that's by design, everything he does in New Wirral is about him playing the hero, but it's also oh so clear that he brought his own expectations of goodness from his own timeline and they're just as much of a burden here. Even when hes succeeding, he won't cut himself slack, he says he needs to have a cause to rally behind, or what that archangel said to him would be proven true: he IS empty. Or at least, useless, which is probably the same thing to him.

What really grabs me about all of this though (besides the usual love of angst and guilt complexes and hero complexes and whatnot) is this future of moral reformation. Those are a pretty common historical phenomenon, often involving moral panics and an emphasis on presentation--- what matters is that you LOOK pure compared to others. And poor Eugene just felt like he couldn't keep up just because he has some small selfish impulses, or something in that nature I'd imagine--- I think he'd rather throw himself off a bridge than admit whatever the reason was that he didn't fit in in his own world.

It's easy to see his world being our future, in a way. I'd be delighted if terrible oppressive governments and economic systems were torn down in favor of ones that promote equality and universal well being, but currently moral purity is just as much of a trend as ever--- look at any discussion of book banning, not to mention transphobic legislature, fandom antis and so much more. So this hypothetical future is one where even though the 'right' thing has been done, there's still a subtle form of policing going on to enforce it. Maybe that is successful at keeping cruel practices from coming back. Or maybe it's just traumatizing people like Eugene who feel judged by their every action and pressured to be a saint every single moment of their lives.

One last thing I thought was interesting--- as part of his level 4 friendship rank, Eugene mentions how his parents' generation still seem scarred by the cruelties they endured before this reformation. But Eugene is too young to have lived through it himself so you know what that means?? Generational trauma babyyyyy. He's inherited guilt about a time he wasn't even alive for, along with a pressure to make sure it never ever happens again, so no unkindness is tolerated. It's no wonder this boy has so many issues.

So that's my late night rambles about this guy, probably like 50% of this is just me projecting but it's also fun to dissect what's happening here. Like I said before, it's unusual to see a unique concept like character like Eugene and his world in what appears to be a fun little indie game about turning into monsters with cassettes.

[thebigrewatch]

TASKMASTER : SERIES 1 : EPISODE 3 : The Poet and The Egg

Hello all, same day, just had lunch and more choccy buttons so I'm ready to crack on with another episode. And that was a good pun from me because this episode is called The Poet and The Egg!

I can't really remember this episode at all so it'll be good to look back on it. I've got a meeting in an hour so let's get to it.

I don't understand why Greg stands up to introduce everyone, it's a bit odd.

Prize Task: Most Meaningful Item

Tim Key has brought in a piston. He explains it to say he won the Edinburgh Comedy Award and he kept this piston which was part of his show when he won it. We also get a good bit of chat here about Greg booping Romesh on the nose which continues throughout the episode as I recall.

Romesh has brought in his wedding ring. So it's high stakes! Something's telling me he's not getting that back.

Roisin has brought in a dictionary. This is the first instance of someone bringing something like this in.

Josh brings in a lovely item which is a self-published book from his father, a string of angry letters he wrote in the past. He describes it as a 'slice of life'.

Frank brings in his child's hobby horse which is very sweet. Roisin comes in last place, then Josh, Tim, Frank and Romesh. I think that's a fair assessment! Task 1: Throw a teabag into a mug from the furthest distance. Frank already confident, saying he played cricket in this youth. He points out straight away you need wet tea bags. Roisin only brings one bag out then realises it needs to be wet. Romesh on the other hands spends a long time with dry teabags. Frank gets a box out to try and make a sort of funnel for the teabag to go into which is a great system. This leads to a great discussion about whether a box was available for Romesh or not. In another task further down the line they see a box in the background while they're showing Josh's efforts and they say 'box!' so funny.

Josh goes down a strange route of using a wheelbarrow as a mug for tea. He drinks out of it, it looks pretty disgusting!

Tim has the same idea as Frank I guess but makes it far too complicated by involving one of those things people use to throw tennis balls for dogs, and putting the teabag inside a tennis ball. I don't think it's quite in the spirit of things but it does the job.

Task 2: Oh I like this task - they have to draw a picture by walking, kind of like a human etch a sketch. The weather for everyone is nice...except Tim who is doing it in absolute horrendous torrential rain. Josh does a lovely little flower. Roisin wants to draw a sausage for Greg! But it sort of ends up looking like a golf bag.

One thing I will say is I love the music over Tim's one. He tries to draw a key but then crosses it out and ends up with sort of nothing. Tim describes it as the worst hour of his life.

Romesh does a great one of his own head which looks amazing!

Frank does a hobby horse but it doesn't look very good.

Task 3: Buy the best present for the Taskmaster, here is £20, you have 10 weeks.

This is another great moment. I mean the others aren't even worth talking about really but I'll go through them and get to Josh.

Tim - book tokens

Frank - see behind me glasses, these are quite cool actually, he puts them on and can see behind himself

Romesh has a brilliant picture made...I'll let it speak for itself! He says it's to show Greg is 'all terrain'

Josh goes next but I think it's too good to leave here so I'll skip to Roisin's and come back to Josh.

Roisin gets Greg a mouse!

Josh gets Greg a tattoo with his name on his foot! The reaction from Greg and the audience is priceless.

I don't really know why they left Roisin until last because it comes in a bit flat after this excitement but there we are. There is a fun bit though where Roisin says the mouse is called Greg and Josh quips back 'I've got a tattoo of his name!' Of course Josh had to win this one.

Task 3: Using only the items currently on this table, get this egg as high as possible. The egg must not break.

Tim says the phrase 'another day another egg' which I enjoyed. The thing about eggs is they are designed not to break on grass so that's a good call.

Romesh does a lot of titting about with the paper and measuring tape before piling it all up and putting the egg on top.

Roisin throws it up and tries to catch it but it of course goes badly wrong and falls to the floor and cracks.

Tim tries to make a sort of olympic torch out of the paper but it falls off and smashes on the floor.

Josh and Frank have a similar idea of wrapping the egg in paper and throwing it. Josh tries to cover the floor with scrunched paper to cushion the fall but it doesn't quite land in it, however it doesn't break because they are naturally robust against falling on grass.

Frank's egg comes down and nearly knocks him out! Sadly it does break :( So Josh is first and Romesh is second.

Live task: Stand up after 100 seconds. This is your typical not great live task, just waiting for 100 seconds to arrive is a bit dull. One thing I did enjoy was, after all the box chat with Romesh, Alex gives him a box while he's sitting there waiting for the 100 seconds.

Roisin goes, then Josh, then Tim and Romesh at the same time and then Frank goes. Closest to 100 seconds was Josh at 105 seconds. Well that's it then, and it's a tie break situation!

Josh and Romesh have to give Frank Skinner's age in minutes which ends up being about 30 million and something or other (numbers aren't my friend). Josh ends up being the closest to this so he wins and Romesh loses his wedding ring!

[finitevoid]

Hummingbird heartbeat bart does not really resemble any canon iteration of bart at this point though I will defend the justification of my choices to the ends of this earth but ultimately something I’m realizing is that allowing bart to age into young adulthood is inherently going to make him not resemble any canon iteration . I don’t know why that era of sidekicks and heroes are not allowed to age but the starkness of it with bart is so strange when his maturity was such a heavy and important part of his development. By the time we hit graduation day he wasn’t particularly childish in my opinion as opposed to just hyperactive. But the writers in the 2000s utterly walk back any maturity he had. 2019 was pretty good but his appearances in crossover event comics in flash comics is always like bordering on character assassination Why is he still acting 8 years old he’s meant to be like seventeen at the least Bro I hate it here I hate comic books I hate comic books

hh bart is a borderline antagonistic figure. An interesting thing about comics bart vs cartoon bart is that cartoon bart has such a heavy emphasis on like. The opposite things that are achieved by comics bart. Cartoon bart is about a) deceit b) persona c) the dual maturity and immaturity of having been raised in a violent environment. comics bart is just an autistic middle schooler (and then an autistic high schooler). He wears his heart on his sleeve. His emotions are big and obvious and hard for him to control. It’s a pretty deliberate thing that he rarely lies, though he does have a sneaky streak by the 2000s. comics bart is about feeling displaced. They use the word “time refugee” to describe him which I think is interesting. The word “displaced” comes up a lot too. bart is pretty violently removed from everything he knows and is then thrown into an unfamiliar world and society. he cannot return to his home because if he does he will die. he cannot have a relationship with his family because he will be killed. Oopsie :3

so there’s this exploration of what trauma does to him while also really contending with him being young. He struggles with basic shit such as: 1) talking to other people 2) seeing other people as human 3) grasping consequences 4) understanding death, violence, or even pain and 5) knowing why the hell everyone thinks he’s weird and annoying

I don’t think I need to explain what this is evocative of

now the cartoon doesn’t develop its version of bart the way it Could because nobody in that writers room is willing to truly delve into the changes they’ve made to barts backstory. But regardless bart in the cartoon appears in a flurry of lies deceit and manipulation, spurred on by desperation and necessity. This bart doesn’t just understand consequences, he Lives them. this bart doesn’t just grasp pain and violence, he’s Familiar with them.

instead of being “displaced” from his home, separated against his will from his family, his world and what is familiar, bart leaves all of those things behind On Purpose. his 1 scene in the future is him hanging out in a prison camp with an convict, both of them wearing collars like dogs.

I don’t think I need to explain what this is evocative of

bart is also only ever portrayed as mentioning any kind of parental figure once, which is his father (GRANDON WHY ARE YOU SO FUCKING—). also his verbal response to being told he will Never Be Able To Return To Anything That Is Familiar to him is to sarcastically be like “why would I want to lol”. The combination of these things implies that EVERYONE HE LOVES IS DEAD did I forget to mention he’s 14 :P

I understand why they won’t develop this trying to grasp that level of suffering in a child is actually insane

despite the intense deviation from the comics version I think cartoon bart works because it hits on a lot of the same beats. Or, it certainly Can. being Different. being Weird. being SO fucking powerful and using that power in all the wrong ways for the wrong reasons. etc. I think this went underutilized however .

[googledetective]

Hello there! So as all you drdt fans may know, the creator of drdt dropped a characters playlist where each song correlates with another character. Well, of course, as a natural fangan fan, me and a few buddies on discord have been analyzing the shit out of these songs and I want to present our findings here.

There are a few tracks I won’t be covering (2,13,15&16) because I have no idea who they belong to, and a track (5) I’m not 100% sure on that’s the person they go to, but I’ll give a little context behind my guess. Feel free to debate any of this in the comments. I also got English translations for the songs that are not in English so I’ll be basing my theories off those English translations and if anyone wants them, dm me.

Without further ado, here we go!

(Yes there are going to be DRDT spoilers)

Track 1 (Jotaro’s theme) - Xander

I feel like this has literally been universally agreed on by the fandom, as it just generally describes his fiery personality and the fact he “broke down” when he attempted to kill Teruko. Right after, there are lyrics that say “what’s going on here” and I feel like this could refer to right after Xander stabbed her and he was wondering why he would do that in the first place. I’m not totally convinced on this one but I know most are so I think I’ll stick with the popular opinion :)

Track 3 (RUNAWAY) - Charles

This song definitely symbolizes Charles’s character development that he’s been going through. In the first verse it’s talking about his life beforehand and that he met someone who kind of freed him from his existence (who would be Whit). Then it kinda talks about seeing yourself and changing around bits and pieces of himself. What stood out to me is “redirecting my perfection somewhere else.” In the beginning he acted like he was perfect and above everyone, but as the series progresses he’s using his perfection complex to go and help the group. Last but not least, I think the chorus is kind of talking about his trauma and restrictions and that he needs to let them go, and Whit was like that divine intervention to help him face forward and push through his problems rather than just be stuck in fear. I know a lot of people will disagree and say his track is track 5, but since I don’t see any ships with him canonically confirmed (or any ships at all confirmed) I feel a lot of doubt toward putting anyone on track 5 just because we don’t know about who likes who or anything yet.

Track 4 (Cartoons) - Rose

I honestly think that everyone is onboard with the fact that this is Rose. I mean it talks a lot a about art, and the fact she expresses a lot of what she feels through art. Her art is connected to her visions and emotions, as seen through the seen with her and Teruko where she painted Teruko’s death since she couldn’t stop seeing it. Rose is also bad at communication, and the song talks a lot about communicating through art, and she does that as many others do. This one was probably one of the more self explanatory ones but I wanted to write about it anyway!

Track 6 (A Mistaken Belief of Love) - Eden

Again I feel this is a bit of a stretch, but I’ll try to explain my reasoning as best as I can. Throughout the series we’ve seen a pattern with Eden, as she goes and tries her we best to befriend someone and they end up disliking her. This song is about a sweet person who realizes someone doesn’t love them anymore, but keeps persisting for love from them. This is what Eden has been doing throughout the series, an example would be Teruko. Eden has bent over backwards to try and be nice to her and gain her trust, and despite Teruko telling her to leave and treating Eden like absolute dog shit, Eden stays even though her heart is broken and keeps trying. I love Eden :(

Track 7 (Spring Storm) - David

I just want to clarify before I start this one that I used an unofficial English translation of the song, since it was the only English translation I could find. The same applies to tracks 11 & 13.

This song is clearly about someone who is angry with the world and acts like an asshole because of that anger. That’s essentially what David is doing since ep11 of ch2, is he’s putting on an act and suddenly calling out people for hypocrisy and purposefully hurting their feelings. It’s implied this isn’t the true David Chiem either, and in the song it hints at this person just wants to be accepted and loved, but they can’t reach that because everything is always letting them down. That’s coincidentally my take on David’s backstory (for now) and it would make a lot of sense if this is his song-

Track 8 (YES MAN) - Teruko

It was very easy to find a translation of this song, and once you even see the first line of these lyrics it SCREAMS Teruko. The song is about doubting everyone around you, and mocking the world because of it which is literally ch2 Teruko in a nutshell. The “Undead!” chorus likely references the fact that Teruko can’t die and didn’t die after Xander’s murder attempt. The only part that’s making me doubt that this is Teruko’s song is that “Your heart is all I ever need”, which could allude to the fact she really liked Xander but I’m not super sure.

Track 9 - Min

This song is so Min. It’s literally about school and the pressure it puts on you, and Min is the ultimate student. Through the years it wears you down, and Min barely even smiled throughout the series unless she wasn’t focusing on studying. There was mentions about marks (grades) and habitual things, like Min’s huge focus on her grades and the fact she studies constantly. The lyrics are just so Min. It is literally Min. This is one of the one I’m most confident on. I love Min!

Track 10 (Drawing Pins) - Nico

I thought about this a bit, but I saw another theory on tumblr that agreed that this is Nico’s song and explained it more wonderfully than I did. This person is @huesofvioletandpurple and I recommend checking their theories out!

In a nutshell the person in this song feels like they don’t belong and they don’t know what they did to hurt someone’s feelings. This alludes to the fact Nico is a theyboss (nonbinary) person and was ridiculed for their identity, and the second part to when they pissed of Ace and Ace kept antagonizing them.

Track 11 - Hu

(TW: SUICIDAL IDEATION)

I got English lyrics for this! It took a while but pls dm me if you’d like them! To sum the song up, it’s about a person who is suicidal but is still trying to persist and be as good of a person as they can possibly be. With most of the secrets out, I’m on the side that the three attempts secret is Hu’s since I can’t see any of the other ones being hers. When the secrets come out, it will be likely that this song correlates to the person who has the three attempts secret. This is really just a very unsure theory, but with the way it describes the person just wants to help and be good in the song I can really only think that this is Hu’s song.

Track 12 (Tip Toes) - Arturo

The song is about thinking about leaving their bad past behind to accomplish their dreams. This song screams Arturo especially after his secret came out. He had to leave and he didn’t know his sister would do that. He’s probably fighting an internal war against himself with logic (that it isn’t his fault) and emotion (that it was his fault) and that is a huge point shown later in the song. I feel once we get more of his backstory or more Arturo screen time this will further prove that this is his song. This is the song and character pairing that I’m most confident in.

Track 14 (Spitfire) - Ace

Last but not least, we’ve got Ace Markey for Spitfire. This might be the most self explanatory one. The lyrics are basically “I spit fire” and “if I was in WW2 they’d call me spitfire” which probably alludes to Ace’s anger problems and the fact he can’t stop running his mouth and yelling at people when he’s angry. That’s it, that’s the theory.

Thank y’all for reading this and I’m sorry it ran long and I didn’t have great explanations, but if you are interested there are way better theories people have on here than what I wrote 😭

And if you haven’t and you’re interested please please please listen to the songs! If you need any English lyrics to any of the songs please dm me and I’ll send them over! Thanks everyone!