#i was here to have a blast and my god did it deliver. i have only seen it once so nothing is set in stone BUTTT

[bejeweledmp3]

JUST FINISHED GOOD OMENS 2. CHEWING GLASS HELLO?

#talking tag; #good omens spoilers #before i see anyone else's take i must say i really liked the ending #and also wanted to kill aziraphale with one of his books #like what an absolutely perversed fully in character thing for him to do #he absolutely has not done the growth to deny such an offer and he has hurt crowley before and i see why he did it #BUT HELLO??????? ARE YOU MAD?????? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU IN THE BRAIN. HELLO #also queer good omens is ten times better than not queer good omens i said what i said #the editing this season was odd and at times i threw me off but other than that??? #i was here to have a blast and my god did it deliver. i have only seen it once so nothing is set in stone BUTTT #it was fun. i liked the lack of plot. i like the fanficness. i love it when tv is tailored to me. ok that's it i have to go listen to music #and Think now #god

[pdflayn]

I HAVE A CONFESSION (2.2k)

charles leclerc x max verstappen ! one-shot

summary: charles leclerc, born and raised in monaco, a mama's boy, raised to worship the man in the cross who saved us from all our sins. and then there's max verstappen, a man who believes nothing but himself and also a good friend of charles and his family. a man who also made charles crumble into pieces by a mere touch.

warnings: (a bit of) smut under the cut ! mentions of alcohol, religion and beliefs, charles is not a racer in this fic, mention of cigarettes.

note: heavily inspired by false god by taylor swift ! for the past few weeks i have been completely obsessed with it and lestappen are my victims with this brainrot of mine.

Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

It has only been 30 minutes since Charles sat down but it felt like years, it wasn’t always like this. His mind is clouded and distracted. Distracted with the question of who he worships. Is it the man in the cross? Or is it the man who pinned him against the wall of his bedroom last night?

“Charles! We’re over here!” Max screamed, hoping his voice could be heard against the wild crowd of Monaco’s finest club. It was obvious that the Monegasque did not hear his words, Charles was still wandering amongst the crowd, seeking for familiar faces. Max stood up from his seat, telling the rest of their friends he’ll just get Charles from the crowd.

It was loud. All that can be heard is the upbeat sounds coming from the blasting speakers and chatters of random people kissing each other’s faces. But Charles heard something more than the noise, he heard something calm. “There you are, Charlie.”

He felt Max’s hand wrapped around his arm with a smile in his mouth. He can smell the alcohol in his breath, that’s how close they are. He’s not sure if it’s a right feeling knowing damn well he didn’t have a drop of alcohol yet in his system. His heart was racing, his breathing paced with anticipation. “You’re the last one we’re waiting for at the table, let’s go?” Charles could only reply with a nod. His heart is in sync with the beats from the speakers.

"My god, will they ever stop playing Taylor Swift and start playing proper club songs?" Lando asked irritably while holding a beer in his hand. The rest of the group agreed and laughed. Meanwhile, Charles grabbed another bottle of beer as soon as he finished his first. He was annoyed, unable to sit still. He couldn't forget the warmth of Max's touch from a few minutes ago. They are very close friends, having been together since they were kids. But his touch from a moment ago felt different. His stare, his smile, it all felt different for the Monegasque. It wasn’t right, what he was feeling wasn’t right and the blue and red lights from the club hitting the godly face of the Dutch was not helping at all.

But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

“That’s your third beer already, you haven’t been here for a while. You good, Leclerc?” Max asked when he noticed Charles grabbing another bottle. Charles replied with a chuckle, “I’m good, this beer just tastes good.”

“Anyone wanna go to the dance floor?” Carlos asked excitedly, holding a beer in his hand and in the other is in Lando’s waist. I wonder what it feels to have Max’s arm wrapped around me, Charles asked in his mind. Quickly tapping himself out of his sinful curiosity. Soon enough the table was empty, it was only Charles left.

Charles and Max. In the same table. Drinking the same beer. Blank stares.

We might just get away with it

The altar is my hips

Even if it's a false god

Max chugged his bottle of beer and opened a new one. There was an unusual grin on his face. It was only the two of them at the table.

“You know, we actually didn’t think you were gonna come. You were never really the club type of person, Charlie.” Max uttered, trying to break the ice between the two of them. Ever since Max pursued his passion in racing, the only conversations he had with Charles was the good morning’s and good night’s along with the hi’s and hello’s whenever they saw each other in the streets of their homes.

“There wasn’t anything left to do at home so I decided to stop by. It’s not the usual crowd I like but there’s nothing to lose anyway. Plus, it’s free beer, Max. Who says no to that?” Charles leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair, hoping it could ease the tension between him and Max’s stare. He is intimidated, but deep down he loves it. Max noticed Charles’ continuous movements. Charles kept running a hand through his hair, chugging his beer once after every ten seconds, and licking his lips. Max knew it was all because of him. It was an obvious answer, it was only the two of them.

We'd still worship this love

We'd still worship this love

We'd still worship this love

“How’s your racing career? Maman always bothers me with the remote, asking me to switch to the channel that shows your race.” It was true. Charles’ mother loves Max dearly and treats him like his own son as well. They would always watch Max’s races especially when he’s free from work. “I’ve been winning races, I think you already know since you watch me drive.”

Charles chuckled, “I do.”

“Do you still serve at the church?” Max asked when he noticed a glimmer from Charles’ chest when the light struck him. Charles held his small cross and shook his head, “I haven’t been able to serve the church for a while now. I’ve been… busy.”

Max couldn’t help but raise a brow with his response. The religious boy missing church, it’s like hearing about the diligent student cutting classes. He thought to himself as he saw Charles hiding his cross inside his shirt.

I know heaven's a thing

I go there when you touch me

Honey hell is when I fight with you

“Charles,” Max called, earning a small hum from Charles. “Do you want to go somewhere quieter?” Charles smiled and nodded. Charles knew he needed to be somewhere quieter, Max knew the younger was already overwhelmed with the loud crowd. Charles was no stranger to Max, he knew him more than one could ever imagine.

Charles took one last sip from his beer and stood to follow Max leaving the club. They sat down in the cold ground of the parking lot, disregarding the thought that there were nearby benches under the trees blowing cold winds. It was awfully quiet, opposite to when they were inside.

“Do you smoke?” Max asked while holding a stick of cigarette in his hand. Charles shook his head and watched as the older lit up the stick and blew smoke from his mouth. Charles never liked the smell of cigarettes, that’s why he didn’t know why he’s suddenly okay with Max smoking. At some point, he might even want Max to blow smoke in his face. “You’re so quiet, Charles. Are you sure you’re okay?”

He didn’t know what to say. How could he say that it’s him who’s been bothering him since the moment he laid his hand on his arm without making it awkward? “I’m okay, it’s just a bit cold and I have nothing to say since nothing eventful has happened recently.”

“Then what’s keeping you busy to skip church? You’re one of the most religious people I’ve ever met.” Max asked in a curious tone. Charles didn’t know how to answer that question as well. He’s not himself lately, only Max noticed.

“Max,” Charles called. “Hmm?” Max responded.

“Why don’t you believe in religion?” Charles noticed how Max subtly froze from his sudden question.

“What’s with the sudden question about faith and religion, Charlie?” Max chuckled. Charles was already about to speak again, probably to take back his question but Max spoke first. “I wasn’t exactly raised in a religious family like you. My father is almost never home, my mother is also an atheist, and my sister, well, she’s the religious one in our family but we were never really close. No one really guided me in the religious part in life. And besides, I find comfort in what I can see and understand.”

“But still,” Charles started. “Don’t you feel lost at times?”

Max smiled, “I’d rather be lost than have an unknown entity dictate what’s right and wrong for me.”

“It’s not about dictating what’s right and wrong, it’s more like a guide from what’s right and wrong.” frustration was evident from Charles' voice along with his furrowed forehead. Max dropped his stick and stepped on it to kill the light. He gripped Charles’s arm and made him look at him. He felt the younger flinch within his touch.

“Charles, what’s wrong? Be honest with me, Charlie.” Max placed both of his hands on Charles' shoulder, closing the gap between them. Inhaling the intoxicating smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes. “Max, I-”

“¡Hijos de puta, qué feo su comportamiento!” Both Charles and Max immediately distanced themselves from each other, seeing their friends getting kicked out of the bar, wasted as fuck.

“Ready to go home?” Charles snapped out of his thoughts when his mama tapped his shoulder. The mass had already ended and he didn’t even notice. “I’ll start the car, wait for me in front of the chapel so you wouldn’t need to walk back to the parking lot.” Charles said with a smile as he stood up and made his way outside the chapel. The thing is, he's not headed to the parking lot.

Tipsy. They were both tipsy from all the alcohol they drank. Especially since they decided to continue drinking at Lando’s house after being kicked out of the club. Everyone was already wasted. Charles wanted to be wasted too, but his very high tolerance in alcohol is not helping him. He wanted to drown his thoughts. His sinful thoughts of Max. He keeps on having flashbacks of how Max gripped him and how he sounded when he asked him the simplest question he couldn’t answer.

“That’s enough, Charlie.” Max said as he snatched the beer from Charles hand and moved away all the cans of beer left. Charles groaned, he wanted more. He forcefully grabbed the canned beer in Max’s hand which ended in the worst way possible.

“Fuck!” Max screamed in shock as the cold liquid drenched his shirt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Max stood up and threw the can of beer in the nearest trash bin. Meanwhile, Charles ran a hand through his hair and left a frustrated groan before standing up and leaving the room.

“Charles,” Max called but to his dismay, Charles ignored him and went outside despite also being drenched with the cold beer.

“Charles, what’s wrong? C’mon mate, speak up-”

“For fuck’s sake, leave me alone Max!” Charles snapped. “Everything is wrong! It all started being wrong the moment you came back for good. I shouldn’t be feeling like this, Max. This is so fucking wrong!”

“Cha-”

“Man is created for a woman, a man is not created for another man. I can’t have these kinds of feelings towards you, Max. I can’t. My faith tells me it's wrong, but my heart... my heart is betraying everything I thought I knew.”

Max froze from where he stood. He didn’t exactly know how to react knowing that the person he craves also craves for him but forbids himself because it’s against his religion. So he stepped forward, taking the risk, placing his lips against the lips he craves for.

A slap echoed in Max’s ears. He felt a sting in his cheek as he once again froze from Charles’ actions. “Max,” Charles was supposed to touch the cheek but was stopped by Max’s tight grip on his wrist. Max’s jaws clenched, still feeling the sting from Charles’ slap as he dragged the younger inside to a vacant room.

“Max, I’m sorry.” Charles’ kept on trying to remove his wrist from Max’s grip, “You’re hurting me, Max!”

Charles was dizzy from the alcohol but it wasn't enough to knock him senseless. He was aware of where he was. He was aware of Max's intentions. He knew why he heard the door locked. And he knew damn well it's turning the both of them on.

“It’s funny how it's forbidden for a man to crave a man because your Jesus said so. But isn't your Jesus also a man?” Max whispered in Charles’ ear. Pinning both of his hands on top of his head while the other hand rests on Charles' waist, gripping it from time to time. “And you people worship him so badly, craving for his attention.”

Max stepped an inch closer to Charles, closing the gap between them. Not even air could pass through them. Charles groaned at the friction caused by their hips touching. Max thrusted into Charles' clothed self, making the younger moan and close his eyes. Max placed his free hand on Charles’ chin, making him look up. “Open your eyes. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours.”

“Look at you, even your eyes crave for me, schatje.” Max buried his head on the younger’s neck, leaving sloppy kisses and bite marks. He can feel his pants getting tighter every time he would hear Charles whimpering against his touch. “Already such a fucking mess for me, sweet one?”

Max freed the younger's hands from being pinned against the wall and slid it down his pants. Charles’ hands immediately found its way to Max’s hair, tugging a handful as he felt Max’s cold hand against his cock.

“You’ve been worshipping the same man for years now, Charlie. Would you go to hell if you'd worship another? Let's say, me?”

“Father, I have something to confess.”

#layn archive ! #f1 smut #fomula 1 #f1 fic #charles leclerc fic #max verstappen smut #charles leclerc smut #lestappen #lestappen smut #formula one smut #cl16 #mv1 #1601 #verstappen #charles leclerc fanfic #leclerc #Spotify

[barefoot-joker]

Birthday Yandere!William Afton X Reader

I smiled as I walked down the sidewalk to my older sister’s work. She had forgotten her lunch because she was helping our younger brother get ready for school. We had all woken up a bit late, so we rushed Isaac out the door before Trish headed out. I’ll admit it was rough with my sister at work, my brother at school and me taking care of the trailer; we never really got time off to spend with each other. That’s why I was happy to bring Trish her lunch, it would finally give us a chance to chat for a minute or two.

It took me a few more minutes to walk the rest of the sidewalk before reaching the parking lot. Before me stood the only pizzeria in town: Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. It was quite the spectacle even now and was very popular for children’s birthday parties. Trish and I had taken Isaac there for his birthday and he absolutely had a blast. I mean what was there not to love? It had an arcade, pretty good pizza, and singing animatronics! I had never seen anything like that before, it was just so fascinating. 

I opened the front door and a little bell went off as I did. Standing by the host desk, I waited for someone to direct me to my sister. “Oh, hello there, Y/n! It’s a pleasure to see you again!”

I looked up to see Henry, one of the owners. Henry was such a nice man. He would watch Isaac and I while we waited for Trish to finish her shift sometimes. He just looked like a teddy bear with his chubby appearance, blonde curly hair and beard, and those black thick rimmed glasses. “Hiya, Henry! Trish forgot her lunch, so I was just delivering it.”

“Oh yeah, of course. She’s a bit busy right now. We had a lunch rush. If you would like, you can wait in the arcade and I can direct her when she has some free time.”

“That would be great. Thanks, Henry!”

“Of course!”

“Mr. Emily, could you come here please”, a female called.

“Excuse me, Y/n.”

Henry walked off to go help, so I headed to the arcade. The blinking lights and loud sound effects was a bit calming to me. It was also fun to see kids be excited over 8-bit pixels. As I watched kids run around, I felt a dark presence looming behind me, almost suffocating. I looked over my shoulder to see a slim figure. I couldn’t quite identify who it was until I fully turned. 

Of freaking course.

The man’s skin was a bit pale, and his brunette locks looked unkempt. While he was slim, he still had a broad figure in the shoulders and the scent of cigarette smoke was slight on his white button up. “Miss Y/n, what a pleasant surprise. It’s so lovely to see you.”

Those gray eyes stared down at me, searching my face for some sort of reaction. I felt a shiver go down my spine. “What brings you here? I haven’t seen much of you lately. Or are you just trying to ignore me?”

A smirk played with the corner of his lips and I couldn’t help the gulp that went down my throat. I absolutely hated running into Mr. William Afton. He creeped me out and made me so uncomfortable. “I was bringing T-trish her lunch. S-she forgot it.”

I didn’t even bother with his other questions. If I had, who knows how Mr. Afton would have responded. “Ah, such a great sister! You know, you remind me of my dear Elizabeth. She does her best to protect Evan from Michael. She makes me so proud.”

Something sinister flickered in his eyes and I took a slight step back. “T-thank you?”

He stepped closer, his breath brushing against my face. Even that felt terrible, the brushing feeling like small claws digging into my flesh. Just as he was about to say something, Trish walked in. “There you are, Y/n! Henry said you’d be in here.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Thank God Trish came. She noticed my scared expression and grabbed my hand. Leading me away, I could feel Mr. Afton’s gaze dig into my back. “Thanks for saving me back there, Trish.”

“Of course. Mr. Afton can be a bit creepy at times.”

At times? How about all the time.

To make sure we were far enough away, Trish had walked us over by the host stand. “Now, what is it you came here for?”

“You forgot your lunch at the house again,” I lifted up the brown paper sack.

“Oh Y/n, thanks so much! I completely forgot about it!”

“I know, but you’re a busy lady.”

She gave me a kiss to the cheek. I smiled and looked beyond her shoulder. My eyes widened at seeing Mr. Afton peering through the doorway. His eyes stared at my sister down with such disgust. If looks could kill, she’d be bleeding profusely on the checkered floor. “Well, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you and Isaac later, okay?”

“Okay.”

She gave me a kiss on the forehead before taking the sack lunch, quickly sauntering off. I could still feel Mr. Afton’s gaze on me, so I left quickly out the front door. 

It wasn’t until 9:00 pm till Trish came home. By then I had retrieved Isaac from school, helped him with his homework, and gotten dinner ready. The three of us sat around the small dining table, munching on some chili. Isaac told us about his school day and Trish told us about work. I just sat quietly. “You know Y/n, your birthday is coming up here in a few weeks. Do you know what you want for a present yet?”

“No and you don’t have to worry. Just being with you two will make me happy.”

“But Y/n”, Isaac replied, “it’s your birthday! You deserve the world!”

I lightly smiled. They were always so sweet to me, but I really didn’t need anything. Quality time with them would be just enough. “At least think it over, okay? Isaac and I want to get you something.”

Trish set her hand on top of mine, giving it a light squeeze. 

“Okay.” I only said that to please them.

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

After we finished eating, we cleaned up dinner. The rest of the night we played a couple rounds of cards before heading to bed.

The next couple of weeks went by normally. Trish and Isaac kept asking about what I wanted for my birthday and I always gave the same response. A couple of times I had to go to Freddy’s to give Trish something. During those visits Mr. Afton was being creepy again. 

His silver eyes seemed softer around me compared to the harshness they held for his employees.

His hands would linger on my shoulder, his touch light and gentle.

I never seeked him out but he always found me in the restaurant. It felt like we had a red string of fate connected to us and he tugged until he was near.

He even suggested I work at the pizzeria, but I immediately turned him down. No way was I going to work alongside him and his creepy behavior.

He just made me feel sick.

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

Time flew by and soon enough it was my birthday. The morning was spent having my favorite breakfast before we headed to the park. We walked around a bit and just had fun. At some point Trish had to leave to get something for later tonight (probably a cake), so Isaac and I headed back to the house. We played some card games, board games, watched TV and read together.

The hours ticked by and while we had fun, we hadn’t heard from Trish. I was starting to get worried. Freddy’s wasn’t too far from our house and she always called when she was on her way home. No, something must have happened.

“Isaac, I want you to stay here. I’m going to go look for Trish.”

“But I want to come with!”

“Somebody needs to be here in case she calls. Can you do that for me?”

He nodded. “Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

I gave him a kiss to the forehead and quickly threw on some shoes. Heading out the door, I went as fast as I could to the pizzeria. Please let Trish be okay! Please!

I threw open the front door and skidded to a stop in the middle of the dining room. “Trish! Trish, where are you?!”

Suddenly, the eerie tune of Happy Birthday carried through the halls. I whipped my head around when I heard footsteps, my eyes widening when I saw a yellow rabbit headed right for me. I tried to move but as soon as I did the bunny grasped my hand, tugging me down the hall. “H-hey! Let go of me! Trish! Trish!”

I was dragged down a dim hallway, yelling at this thing to let me go. It opened a door and suddenly we were in a backroom of the restaurant. I was slightly pushed into the room, the door locking behind us. Even though I was frightened of what the rabbit would do, I forced myself to look around the room.

I really wish I hadn’t.

The room had been decorated for a birthday party. Streamers and balloons hung from every possible place; a birthday sign hung on the wall; a small table with a festive cloth sat in the middle with a birthday cake. The candles were lit and sitting next to it was my sister. Her head was tilted towards her chest and her hair blocked her face. “TRISH!”

I ran over and lifted her head up.

My eyes widened.

My breath caught in my throat.

My hands shook.

I let out a shrill scream.

Across Trish’s neck was a deep cut, thick blood running down the front of her shirt. Her eyes were glassed over and she looked like she was in pain. A dark chuckle made me look at the yellow bunny and that’s when I saw the blood stains. “Y-you! How could you?! Show yourself!”

And so it did. The thick gloved hands unclipped the grotesque cartoon head and pulled up.

I could have died right there. 

Standing in front of me with a wide grin was Mr. Afton.

“Surprise~”

“I-I-”

“Speechless? No matter. There will be plenty of time for us to talk, my dear.”

“W-what do you mean? Why did you kill Trish? She never did anything to you!”

He looked offended at that comment. “Of course she did. She kept us apart. Can’t you see? We belong together. After all, I put so much effort into this relationship so far. I’d hate for my flirtation to go to waste.”

I gasped. 

No.

No way was this murderer and I meant to be together!

I ran for the door but Mr. Afton pulled me into a tight embrace against his costume. I screamed and struggled in his grip. He just held tight. “I see you are not in the mood for a party right now. That’s okay. We can have our own celebration at home.”

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!”

“Sorry about this, love.”

“Wha-”

My head was thrust at the wall and suddenly pain shot through my skull. The room was spinning and soon I blacked out.

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

I groaned as my eyes slowly opened. My head was just pounding and the cool cloth on my head was nice. “Finally starting to wake, my dear?”

I peered to my left and saw Mr. Afton sitting in a chair next to the bed I was on top of. He was out of the horrid costume and was now sporting a dark purple dress shirt and dark gray striped pants. “W-where am I?”

“Home.” He let his fingers stroke the top of my forehead into my scalp. 

I whined and tried to move away but the mad man was quick to grab me. He held me down and in my blurry state I tried to get away. “There’s no point in escaping, my love. You are mine and I am yours. We’re going to be together forever.”

“N-no! I don’t want that!”

“You’ll get used to it, my dear.”

“Mr. Afton-”

“Call me William. After all, we're past the formalities phase.”

With that he leaned down and gave my cheek a kiss. I threw my head to the right, not wanting to look at him. However, his fingers wrapped around my chin and forced my head back to him. “I’m being very generous, love.”

That woke me up. 

“Generous? Generous?! You made advances towards me when I made no indication I liked you. Y-you killed my sister for God’s sake!”

I thrashed around and William had to hold me down tighter. “Let go!”

“Come now, darling. Behave. It’s still your birthday, don’t you want to celebrate?”

“Not with you! I hate you! I hate you, William!��

A deep smirk set on his face and his eyes softened. “I love it when you say my name.”

He leaned down and kissed my lips. I struggled against him and bit his lip. He pulled back and licked lip, the blood going into his mouth. He smiled wide.

“Happy Birthday, soon to be Mrs. Afton.”

#yandere #yanderexreader #xreader #fnaf #fnaf x reader #yandere fnaf #fnaf x y/n #yandere x y/n #yandere five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's #fanfiction #william afton #yandere william afton

[rosys-fans-fics]

Gortash x Redeemed! Durge Netherbrain fight

I cannot tell you how sad I was when the brain killed Gortash! I spent so long trying to redeem my boyfriend and get him to forsake Bane as I did Bhaal only to have the brain go “lol no! Player input be damned!” So here’s what should have happened instead!

Instead of Gortash just hip bumping you out of the way and getting blasted, it should have been a hand off of the stones for him to do the final attack. Gortash has done this before, he knows how to do it, he actually remembers how to unlike us! You have him try to do the final attack only for the brain to mock him and be like “lol I was using you the whole time and I never respected you mortal!” This is such a good character moment for gortash, his whole life he’s been trying to become more powerful so he’ll never be someone’s slave or puppet again only to find out he was still being controlled this whole time. That should be part of his redemption, realizing that he was never in control and now needs to destroy what he thought his source of power was.

When the brain attacks him, we as the player should have the choice to save him! A simple 1. Let gortash handle this or 2. Step in and help. Should we leave him to take care of the mess he made or stand with our ally and boyfriend to stop the brain? If you don’t step in, gortash dies. But if you do, the prism creates like a mental shield or bubble around you and gortash. The brain then says, “I saw potential in you, Bhaalspawn, but your love for this mortal was always a failing of yours. You have forsaken your father, your destiny, for this weak human.” After that, you grab Gortash’s hand and are like “together?” And he says “together” to deliver the final attack. This would lower the dc check cause you have help!

Then big fight ensues. Defeat the brain, celebrate, and have a conversation with Gortash where you decide to rebuild the city not as tyrants or gods but as heroes. Gortash will also apologize to Karlach and offers to fix her heart! Karlach deserves a good ending and while she’s not forgiven Gortash for selling her, she isn’t going to kill him. She says, “if you fall back to your old slaving tyrannical ways, I’ll find you and end you.” And gortash is just like, “I’ll hold you to that!”

For a little epilogue I’d love for Gortash and Durge talk about how Bane will be coming soon for Gortash’s soul and that durge will stand with him when they fight Bane off. Then Gortash hugs you and says “you’ve always seen the best in me, I thank you for that. I love you for that”

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #enver gortash #bg3 gortash #lord gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge #dark urge x gortash #bg3 durge #durgetash #let my boy live!

[five-rivers]

The Soul Trade(ing Card Game) Chapter 2

As was dictated to me by the poll, I have delivered.

(AO3)

.

.

.

“So, uh, Batman,” said Constantine, hating everything about this, “I’ve gotta ask you something.”

“Hn,” said Batman, and Constantine understood he had the man’s whole attention, even though he didn’t look away from the screens arrayed before him.  Monitor duty.  Constantine was glad the Justice League Dark didn’t have to do that.  

(At least, he thought they didn’t.  If anyone had ever told him they did, he had promptly forgotten about it.)

“I need you to look into whoever left me this letter.”  He dropped the letter on the desk next to Batman and flexed his hands.  Yeah, the magic in it was sure something, but it was passive, as far as he could tell, traces picked up from being around something infinitely nastier.  It was safe.  Probably.  It hadn’t blasted any of the people who had handled it between the desk in the Hall of Justice and the Watchtower, anyway.  

Batman glanced up only briefly before taking the letter.  He read it, quickly, without his posture changing at all.  

“Hm,” he said, the tone of the grunt just slightly more contemplative.  “Are the claims in this letter legitimate?”

“Well,” said Constantine, “let’s just say that reading it felt like…”  His face twisted as he tried to find the words to describe what it had felt like.  “Yeah.  Even if this bloke doesn’t have everything he says he does, he has… a lot.  There are traces on the letter, magically speaking.”  

“What’s the effect of that?”

“God if I know,” said Constantine.  “I didn’t even notice this.  At least, he could go ahead and cast whatever spells on me he wants.  Soul’s a lot more intimate.”

With a press of a button, the screens went dark.  “You shouldn’t be up here if you’re compromised.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know about this until ten minutes ago!”

“Return to ground.”  Batman stood and loomed over him.  “I’ll look into who sent this letter and tell you my findings.”

That was probably the best Constantine was going to get.  Honestly, he didn’t even want to be on this glorified deathtrap in the sky.

He didn’t like the feeling of getting kicked out, though.  

“I’m going to need the letter back.  I’ve got my own tests to run on it.  Get an idea of what kind of nasty we’re dealing with.  Magic stuff.”

Batman handed it back.  “I’ll walk you to the Zeta Tubes.”

.

“What do you mean someone bought your soul?” asked Zatanna.  “I thought you’d already sold it ages ago.”

“Yeah, but I guess souls can be resold.  Should’ve realized that demons would try to replicate the whole banking hellscape we have here.”

“Pardon?”

“Nevermind,” said Constantine, letting himself sprawl backwards in the chair.  It leaned dangerously, the weak leg bending.  “I did sell it.  I sold it a bunch.  Got it set up so no one could really claim it without the others freaking out.  Set some time limits on a few earlier ones, that worked pretty well, but, eventually, that didn’t work anymore, no one would bargain for that, and I figured my soul was pretty much a lost cause anyway…”  He tucked his hands in his pockets and fingered the lid of his flask.

“Don’t you dare start drinking while I’m here.”

He hauled himself forward.  “Far as I can tell, what’s written in the letter is true, as far as the owning part goes.  The whole sorry bit and the let’s meet bit, I’m less clear on.”

He did have some thoughts on how to deal with it.  But he wasn’t sure how well it’d work, and the guy - if it even was a guy - was a complete unknown.  

He shrugged.  “I was hoping for a second opinion.”  And maybe a bit of… comfort.  Something.  It felt like the only time he saw Zatanna anymore was if the Justice Morons were poking at stuff no one sane would come close to with a ten foot pole.  

(He missed her.)

(He missed when they used to be an item.)

(Which was stupid of him.  But he’d never claimed not to be.)

(She wanted to keep things professional though, so.  He’d try.)

Zatanna paced around the table.  It was clear except for the letter, Constantine having expended much effort into cleaning it off (dumping it onto the nearest alternate flat-ish surface, the seat of a sagging armchair).

“I don’t know how much more I can tell you.  There’s magic here, but it’s traces, and it’s… muddled.  Do you mind?”

“Go ahead, love.”  So much for being professional.  Sue him.  Some things just slipped out.

Zatanna nodded, evidently not even noticing.  “Laever ruoy sterces,” she said, staring intensely at the letter.  She shook her head.  “Laever sesruc.  No, no curses, at least.  That’s a relief?” 

“Yeah, I guess.  But he doesn’t exactly need to curse me through a letter if he’s got everything he says he’s got.”

“Don’t give up just yet.  Let me try a few other things.  Ezylana eht snigiro fo eht lacigam secart no sight retter.  Wow, huh.”

“What?”

“Well, like I said, there are all sorts of magical traces on this thing.  Demon magic, which is expected, bits of yours, some of the ambient stuff the Watchtower picks up… but there’s also a lot of spirit magic.”

“You think we’re dealing with some kind of shaman?  A summoner?”  In addition to demons and whatever else, that was.  

“Maybe,” said Zatanna.  “There’s death, here, too, but I can’t tell if it’s outright death magic or necromancy.”

Constantine groaned.  “The difference is academic.  I’m screwed.  S’pose I should be grateful or something he didn’t hit me with a compulsion to show up and grovel in front of him, felt the need to give me a heads up before he tortures me for sport or whatever necromancers do for fun.”

Zatanna made a face, but it was very telling that she didn’t deny it was a possibility.  

“Just promise me you won’t go looking for this person on your own.”

“Yeah, I’ve got the Bat on it.  You know him.  Tall scary guy.  World famous detective.  About as boring as he is scary with all his rules.”

“That’s not what I meant,” said Zatanna.  “You’re going to need magical backup for this.  Call me.  Or at least someone who knows what they’re doing.”

The opposite of what he wanted to do, really.  People died often enough around him without actively dragging them into his problems, and this was a massive problem.  

“Can’t make any promises.”

.

Because Constantine couldn’t really do anything else about the letter or its contents (besides scream inside his head and swear at himself), he decided to go about business as usual.  Exorcisms, investigations, a touch of vampire stabbing, a few (disappointingly dry) ghost hunts.  Normal stuff.  

At least, it was normal until the demons started to run away from him.  They didn’t usually do that, not even the weak ones.  He did have a reputation, but not one like that.  His reputation was that of a cheat and a con… and someone who got people close to him killed.  None of that really put off bloodthirsty demons, who were a right pain to genuinely kill, and who often as not had some connection to old Lucy.  

But they were running now, and not just the weaker ones.  They weren’t even fighting him.  Not getting hellfire tossed at him was nice, but demons were not nice.  Ever.  

So, what could he do but catch one?

He walked around the circle, double checking to make sure the scuffle with the little imp hadn’t scuffed any lines.  He’d made mistakes like that before, and they were never pretty.  

“So,” he said, lighting a cigarette, “what’s a demon like you running from little old me for?”

The demon, predictably, hissed at him.  Constantine rolled his eyes.  Typical.

“I’m going to ask you again, and if you don’t answer, things are going to get real unpleasant for you.”  He pointed at those circle.  “Read ‘em, if you don’t believe me.”

The demon arched itself like a cat, which was an interesting choice seeing as it wasn’t at all cat shaped.

“You were chasing us, John Constantine,” it said in a deep voice that belayed its size.  

“Yeah, and that’s usually your lot’s cue to turn around and jump me.  What’s different?”

The demon laughed, unpleasant and high-pitched like a teakettle coming to a boil.  “What’s different?  What’s different?  John Constantine, you know what’s different.”

“Humor me here.”

It chuckled and started pacing around the inside of the circle.  “Who owns you, John Constantine?” it asked in a silky voice.  “Where is your soul, John Constantine?  Not with you.  Not with the First of the Fallen.  Not with any of the princes of hell, or any god in its palace.  Who owns you, John Constantine?”

“What, you’re saying that just because Lucy doesn’t have dibs on me when I die anymore, none of you are interested?  Try the other one, it has bells on it.”

“Fool!” shouted the demon, now sounding disturbingly human.  “Fool!  Fool!  A fool you are, but we are not, oh, no.  No, no, no, we are not.  What manner of thing could steal from them?  What manner of thing could satisfy so many demons?  What manner of thing could have such essence that it clings to you even now?  Who owns you, John Constantine?”

Those were some good goddamn questions.  “You’ve got a name for me, or is this you saying you don’t actually know, you’re just so freaked by the idea of it you’re shaking in your boots?  Scales.  Whatever.”

“Do not mock us, John Constantine,” it said, back to sounding properly demonic.  “We are no fool!  We know you will suffer.”

Yeah, well, that was just the natural state of the universe, wasn’t it?  In any case, it didn’t look like this little punk had any idea what it was talking about.  They didn’t tend to be very bright, just smart enough to parrot what they overheard from more powerful demons and dumb enough to give up information when threatened with basic binding spells.  

He banished the imp back to Hell with a twist of his fingers.  

So.  Whoever or whatever had gotten their hands on Constantine’s soul, they were scary enough that demons didn’t want to draw its attention by getting involved with Constantine.  Which was.  Yeah.  Not great.  Story of his life.  

He’d known that they’d have to be nasty, sure.  They’d have to be, to get all of Constantine’s contracts.  Constantine hadn’t sold his soul to just anybody.  Those first three bastards especially had power.  Hell, they’d cured his terminal lung cancer.  Partially to avoid a war but mostly to be petty.   

Admittedly, after that, he hadn’t been quite so discerning.  Or careful about the wording.  But he knew that so long as old Lucy had his eyes on him and a finger on his soul, no one would dare collect.  

A lot of good that did, in the end.

Who would Lucifer trade with?  Why would he give up the right to torture Constantine eternally post-mortem?  

Constantine was getting sick of not knowing.  He was tempted to just go to that meeting spot, but without more information, that would be unforgivably stupid.  Constantine was not stupid.  Usually.  

His Justice League communicator (foisted on him by the Bat) pinged obnoxiously at the bottom of one of his pockets.  He’d forgotten it was in this coat.  He sorted through his pockets crossly as it pinged again.  It had better be important.  He found it under a crumpled bag of crisps and yanked it out with a spray of crumbs.  

“What?” he said, shortly.  

“Constantine,” came Batman’s deep, gravelly rumble.  “I have news.”

Well, crap.  “You gonna share that news this century?”

“It would be better to discuss this in-person.  You do not have a secure computer.”

“Jesus,” said Constantine.  He would have argued, but, technically, Batman was doing him a favor.  “Fine, you paranoid maniac.  Where?”

.

‘Where’ turned out to be a low-risk interrogation room in the Hall of Justice.  Constantine was not a fan of this arrangement, but he understood it.  He was compromised, or whatever, and the interrogation rooms were private and had video screens.  

On the other hand, it was in America, and even Zeta Tubes couldn’t help with jetlag.  And, worse, it was nonsmoking.  

Batman personally escorted him to the room, and turned on the main screen with a remote control.  Pictures of a pale-skinned teen with blue eyes and black hair sprung up.  School pictures, mostly, but some looked like ID pictures, one was on the cover of a magazine, and another looked like an avatar in a video game.  

“Do you recognize this boy?”

“One of your kids?” asked Constantine.

“Answer the question.”

“No, I don’t know him.  Should I?”

“He’s the one who dropped the letter off.”  

“You’re joking.”

In answer, Batman clicked the remote again, bringing up surveillance videos of the Hall of Justice’s main desk taken from various angles.  The clips started off looking normal, the overly clear, expensive footage characteristic of an organization associated with Batman.  

But then, static swam over them.  Not enough to fully obscure the figure walking into the frame, but enough to be obvious.   The boy from the pictures.  He walked to the desk, had a short conversation with the receptionist during which he handed over the letter, and then left, taking the static with him.  

“Well, hell,” said Constantine.  It had been a while since he’d seen a demon take a form like that, but he supposed this one must have learned that he had a soft spot for kids.  Or maybe this was a kid.  A demon kid.  He’d thought he’d taken care of all of his, but wouldn’t have been the first time he’d screwed up, and this whole situation was a collection of screw ups.  

“Do you know what could cause the static?”

“Whole range of spells, but I’m gonna bet you already knew that from Zatanna.”

“Hm,” said Batman.  “The name of the boy is Daniel Fenton.  He is fifteen years old, and his major claim to fame is discovering that a purple-backed gorilla on loan to his local zoo was female.  He also makes an occasional appearance on the leaderboards of the video game ‘Doomed,’ where he is a well known player.”

“A demon playing video games.  Now I’ve seen it all.”  It wasn’t so much that demons couldn’t have hobbies, he just didn’t care to learn them, if they weren’t relevant to beating the crap out of them or tricking them into taking a holy water shower.  Then again, there was an outside possibility that ‘Daniel’ wasn’t a demon.  “Any of this have a point?”

“Establishing facts,” said Batman.  “It is possible that you had encountered him via the internet.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who plays video games?”

Batman clicked the remote again, a map appearing on the screen, a blinking dot appearing in the middle of nowhere, US.  “Daniel lives with his older sister, Jasmine, and their parents Drs. Jack and Madeline Fenton in Amity Park.”

“Amity Park?” repeated Constantine.

“Is it familiar to you?”

“I think I looked into it once.  Supposed to be haunted.  Veil there is maybe a little thin, but nothing on the Tower of London, or, hell, the British Museum.  You wouldn’t believe what all those stolen grave goods can get up to together.  Your permanently overcast city is more haunted.  It’s a dead end.”

“Maybe not.  The Drs. Fenton are friends with the billionaire Vladimir Masters, but primarily derive their income from their patented inventions, which include customized ‘branding’ toasters, high-efficiency toilet paper, ultra-lightweight camping gear, various treatments for radiation poisoning, and several items that have been marked classified by the Department of Homeland Security and the Department of Energy, for their use of dangerous energy sources.”

Constantine’s eyebrows went up.  Mad scientists mucking about with radiation were generally not in his wheelhouse.  Or even riding the same tracks, for that matter.  “You think they went poking around in the occult for their ‘dangerous energy sources?’”  

“Possibly,” said Batman.  “In addition to their inventions, they are moderately well-known in ghost hunting communities, which explains their presence in the reportedly-haunted Amity Park.  However, everything they’ve written on the subject indicates that they believe ghosts have a strictly scientific explanation.  They also,” continued Batman, the corners of his mouth pulling into a slightly deeper frown, “believe that ghosts are nonsentient and nonsapient.”

“So, they have no idea what they’re talking about.  Just some big brains that got sucked in by the kind of fraudsters who started the seance craze.  Great.  I’m sure Deadman’d love to have word with them.  If they could even see him.”  He rubbed his chin.  “But the must’ve run into something real if their kid’s doing all this.  Or if what looks like their kid’s doing all this.”

“You don’t believe Daniel Fenton is the one in the video?”

“Lemme put it this way.  Odds of a random kid pulling one over on the demons I sold my soul to are about the same as you developing a sense of humor.  Best case scenario, he’s just possessed, or he’s some kind of freak like Klarion.”  

Batman grunted in acknowledgement.  “Approximately six months ago, Jack Fenton purchased an ‘authentic demon soul contract’ from Ebay.”

Constantine opened and closed his mouth several times.  “You’re joking.”

“As you are aware, I have no sense of humor.”

“Jesus Christ.  Ebay?”

“The seller was a man named Eric Chambers.  Zatanna investigated him earlier this week.  He is, apparently, an amateur demonologist who wanted to ‘get out of the game’ and was in the process of selling off all his magical paraphernalia.  He had sold several additional versions of your soul contract to another buyer in Amity Park.  A known associate of Daniel Fenton named Samantha Manson.  Are any of these names familiar to you?”

“Not exactly,” said Constantine.  “But… Ebay?”  He’d never thought his soul was anything special, but at least he’d thought it was worth enough to not be resold on Ebay.  “And how did this Chambers bloke get them?”

“Apparently, the demons he’d summoned no longer wanted them, and he was under the impression that he could ‘put you under his thrall’ if he collected enough of them.”

So the guy who had his soul wasn’t even the first one to have the idea.  Brilliant.  

“And that’s it?”

“I could tell you Daniel Fenton’s grades and internet habits,” said Batman.  “As well as those of his close friends and associates.  Apart from his parents and his recent involvement with you, he is ordinary.”

“The thing with the gorilla is ordinary, then?”

“Most people have at least one outlier event in their lives.  It would be of greater concern if he did not.”  He paused, staring long and hard at Constantine.  “What are your initial thoughts?”

“That I’m about to get screwed up the–”

“Regarding how Daniel Fenton got involved in this.”

“Like I said, it’s probably not Daniel Fenton.  I’d guess…  If I had to guess, I’d say that after Fenton’s dad got hold of that contract, he went and played around with it.  Something like a genuine contract can be used to do a lot.  It has the magical signatures of both the original demon and whatever sorry bastard signed it.  If you’ve got that, you can ring up the demon.”  He raised his hands, miming a scale.  “Demon, inexperienced idiot teenager…”  He tilted to one side.  “You get the picture.”

And, yeah, wasn’t it great that he could cause people to die just by leaving his junk everywhere?  He hadn’t learned anything from the dream sand.  

“You believe Daniel Fenton summoned a demon that possessed him, which then proceeded to collect your soul contracts?”

“Yeah.  Can you pull up a pic of the contract Jack Fenton bought?”

Batman briefly examined the remote, then flicked quickly through several slides, stopping, finally, on a very classic demonic soul contract.  Constantine had signed several like that, so he had to squint at it and read through it line by line.  It wasn’t like he memorized the handwriting of every demon he’d ever made a contract with.  In fact, he’d memorized the handwriting of exactly zero demons.  They didn’t precisely write a lot, and you either got illegible chicken scratch or equally illegible ornate gothic script.  

He got to the name and swore.  “That guy doesn’t have the power to go up against the First of the Fallen.”  He rubbed his chin vigorously.

“It’s possible that Chambers sent a different contract to the Fentons,” said Batman, “or Daniel was… infected after receiving the other contracts.”  More pictures popped up on the screens.  “However, there is a problem with this theory.”

“Yeah?” asked Constantine, already scanning the contracts.  The Bat didn’t like Constantine’s ideas.  What else was new?  

“Daniel’s behavior has had no significant changes in that six month time frame.  But if we go back by just over a year, to when he was entering high school, his grades took a steep dive and several disciplinary actions were noted on his record.  His close friends’ grades took similar, but smaller, hits at the same time.”

“You think he could have been possessed earlier.”

“I believe that something happened to him at that time.  I am unconvinced it was possession.”

Constantine shook his head.  “None of these guys are strong enough to begin with.  Maybe if they were working together…  Nah.  None of them could work together.  That’s why I picked them.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “Then again, I thought no one could get all my soul contracts, so who knows?”

“Are you sure possession is the only solution?”

“God, no.  Hell, we could be dealing with a cabal of homo magi, or someone back from the grave who seriously hates me, that’d explain the death magic on the letter, at least, or maybe there’s a god hanging around getting their kicks poking at me.  It’s just a giant blank.  I’ve never heard of this kid.  I’ve never heard of his family.  I’ve barely heard of Vlad Masters.  I’ve got nothing.”

“Hm,” said Batman.  “What are you planning to do?”

“I’m guessing ignoring it forever isn’t something you’d let me do?”

“No.”

“I guess I’m gonna have to go investigate, then.”

“In that case,” said Batman, pulling a fat folder of papers out of his cape somehow, “you will need to know more about Daniel Fenton, his associates, and Amity Park.”  He dropped the folder on the table with an audible thump.

“Great,” said Constantine.  “Just what I wanted.  Homework.”

.

Constantine and Zatanna zeta’d to the nearest tube near Amity Park.  Batman had arranged an ‘untraceable’ rental car for them, paranoid bastard.  Demons didn’t usually have the skillset required to trace license plates.  

Then again, there might be more than demons involved.  Even if necromancers generally had no skillset outside of necromancy.  

There could be shamans, though!  They were well known for their technological acumen!  

Yeah, right.  It was possible, but not bloody likely.  

“I could teleport, you know,” he told Zatanna.  “We could both teleport.”

“Into the home turf of an unknown magic user?”

Constantine rolled his eyes and knocked his head against the car window.  “I’m surprised the ol’ Bat isn’t coming with us.”

“You know he is,” said Zatanna.  “I’d give even odds that he’s already there, if I had any desire to gamble with you.”

“Hey!  I could be good for it.  I have steady work now!”

Zatanna shook her head.  Constantine huffed.  

“I’m going to take a nap.  Might be my last one, after all.”

“John,” said Zatanna, “you’re not going to die.  Don’t you think this is a little… excessive, considering all the stuff you’ve gotten out of before?”

“No one’s owned my whole soul before.  Now, I really am going to go to sleep.  Wake me up when we get there.”

.

Death.  

That’s what pulled Constantine out of his dreams and into a nightmare, and from there into wakefulness.  The feeling did not dissipate.  Instead, it grew stronger.  

He looked over at Zatanna, who was still driving.  Her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff.  

“What the hell,” croaked Constantine.  

“It’s been building as we get closer to Amity Park,” said Zatanna.  “It doesn’t feel… actively malicious…  More like a massive haunting.  It’s been building slowly.”

Constantine swallowed and tried to rub sand out of his eyes.  “That’s– Where are we?”

“About ten minutes out of Amity Park.”

“No.  I’ve been to Amity Park.  It doesn’t feel anything like this.  It’s boring.”

“Well,” said Zatanna, strained, “something’s changed.  At least we know where the letter picked up all that death magic.”

Constantine breathed in deeply through his nose.  “Yeah, there’s enough of it here for me to feel it, God.”  It was making his skin prickle.  He shook himself all over.  “Might as well stay awake now.  Do you mind if I set my wards?”

“Knock yourself out.”

.

Constantine walked into the diner and looked around.  It was very American.  Retro.  Quiet.  Not entirely clean, but Constantine had been in way worse.  The air smelled strongly of cinnamon, coffee, and hot chocolate.  Not the kind of place he generally bartered for his soul, or away his soul, as the case might be.

An aggressive ‘No Smoking’ sign was positioned prominently next to the cheery ‘seat yourself’ sign.  Constantine scowled at it.  Sometimes it felt like there was nowhere to smoke anymore in the whole world.  

Daniel Fenton, easily recognizable from a legion of school photos and a junior astronaut camp photo ID, was sitting alone at a booth, a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream in front of him.  He swung his legs back and forth and scribbled in a notebook.  A few tables away, not nearly as sneaky as they clear-ly thought they were being, were his friends Manson and Foley.

Zatanna had entered the diner before him, of course, and Batman was most likely… somewhere.  God only knew where.  Constantine knew people who could turn invisible and shapeshift that weren’t as good at it as Batman.  

Before coming in, Constantine had finished setting his wards.  His pockets were full of all sorts of tests, charms, and apotropaics.  As he stuck his hands into them, a spray bottle fit easily into his hand.  

Walking to the table felt like walking to his execution.  He made the comparison with confidence, because he had the relevant experience.   When he stopped next to the table, Fenton looked up.  His expression was confused at first, but in less than a second he lit up, clearly delighted.  

Constantine also had relevant experience in spritzing demons with holy water.

Fenton flinched, but he didn’t start howling or melting.  More’s the pity.  

“Did you just spray me with holy water?” asked Fenton, blinking up at him with a realistic expression of befuddlement.  

“Guy’s gotta know what he’s dealing with,” said Constantine.  

“Well, I’m not a demon.”  A slight furrow worked its way between his eyes.  “Or a devil.”

“What are you, then?” asked Constantine.

Fenton shrugged.  “I don’t know.  An amateur demonologist?  I don’t have any training in this kind of stuff, which is probably why all this happened.”  He reached to the side and grabbed his hot chocolate.  “Oh.  You got my whipped cream with your water…”

“You don’t have any training?”

“Not in this,” stressed Fenton.  “I go to school and stuff.”

And astronaut camp, assuming this really was Daniel Fenton and not something possessing or impersonating him.  

“Anyway, are you going to sit down, or…?”  Fenton looked him up and down.  

Constantine scowled and slid into the booth.  Then he threw some salt (purified) at Fenton.  

“Hey,” complained Fenton, “you’re going to ruin my hot chocolate, jeez.”  He picked up the mug, pulling it towards himself.  

Constantine took the opportunity to grab his notebook off the table and flip through it.  

“Maths?” blurted Constantine.  

Fenton set the mug back on the table and leaned over to snatch the notebook back.  “Like I said, I do have school.  That’s why I can only hang out here on Saturdays.  You did miss the last few meeting times.”  He huffed.  “I know this isn’t ideal, but can we work together here?  I don’t actually want to own your soul.”

“Oh, yeah, amazing way of showing it, mate.  I know who and what I sold my soul to, and I don’t believe you bartered with them without any training.”  Or that he was human, but as long as he was invested in the facade, he probably wouldn’t eat Constantine’s face off.

“I didn’t say I didn’t have any training.  Just no training in this.  I don’t know exactly what you can do beyond make bad demon-related decisions, but you had weeks to do research.  You’ve got to know about the ghosts.”

“Might.  What about them?”

“My parents research them.  Fight them, sometimes.  It’s a whole thing.  Demons weren’t any harder to deal with.”

“I sold my soul to archdemons.”

“Yeah, they kind of sucked, to be honest.”  Fenton bit his lower lip.  “Look, I know you don’t trust me.  I wouldn’t trust me, but what I did to get your contracts wasn’t anything anyone couldn’t do.  Most of them didn’t even want them anymore.  The first batch I bought off of a random dude on Ebay.  One of them paid me to take the contract, because they hated the doll you wrote it on so much.  A lot of the others just wanted me to give you problems, which I think I’ve succeeded at, actually.”

Constantine had forgotten about the doll, actually.  “And the archdemons?  I know for a fact they’ve been looking forward to torturing me forever, so I doubt they’d just hand the contracts over in exchange for ‘giving me problems.’”

“Oh, yeah.  For those guys, I just robbed them.  There were also a few people I just beat up.”

“Demons aren’t people, they’re demons.”

“Sure they’re people.  They’re just evil people.  But they used to be angels or something, right?”

“... No,” said Constantine.  

“Okay, well.”  Fenton shrugged again.  “They still are thinking beings, right?  So, they’re people.”

Constantine honestly didn’t know where to go from that.  

"Fine," he said instead.  "You aren't going to tell me how you got the contracts or what you are.  Is it too much to hope you'll deign to tell me why you did this?"

"I'm a teenager, why do we do anything?"  Fenton sipped at his hot chocolate.  "Mostly, I thought it'd be funny."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought it would be funny.  I mean, Dad bought the first one, because he thought it'd help with his ghost research, but it didn't, so he let me have it.  I asked Johnny about it, and he told me about your contracts, so I–"

"Who's Johnny?" interrupted Constantine.  "Some demon friend of yours?"

He did have a strategy, here, sort of.  Most ultra powerful magical beings had a limit to how much annoyance or disrespect they'd tolerate, even when disguising themselves.  Constantine had a knack for finding those limits.  

Also, just possibly, the hapless teenager act was throwing him off.  It was remarkably believable.  

"No, he's dead, to begin with, not–"

"Oh, so, you took advice on dealing with demons from someone who turned up dead right after telling you about me.  That sounds brilliant." 

"He's a ghost.  He's been dead since at least the nineties, and I doubt you had anything to do with it.  Johnny died in the eighties.  I think.”

“A ghost told you about me?”

“Yeah.  I don’t know what wizards or magicians like you can do or sense, but if you looked up anything about Amity Park at all, you should have seen there are a lot of ghosts here.  It’s not just tourist trap stuff.  That’s… actually one of the other things I wanted to talk to you about, if I managed to get enough of your contracts to get you to come.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, not all ghosts are nice.  I meant it when I said your demons sucked.  That’s compared to the ghosts.  And sometimes to the people who come to hunt the ghosts.”  Fenton drummed his fingers on the table, nervous.  “It’s a toss up which group causes more damage.  The Guys in White are especially awful.  It would be nice if the Justice League took a look into them?”  His voice took on a hopeful lilt.  

“You bought my soul to tip off the League about…  Guys in White.”

“They’re with the government.  Presumably.  No one knows what they’re really called.  And they chase people around screaming about lots and lots of painful experiments.  Direct quotes.”

“You know the League has a tip line.”

“Tried it.”  Fenton took a huge gulp of hot chocolate.

“I don’t believe you,”

“If you hang out here for very long, you and your friends will be able to see the ghosts for yourself.”

Constantine could already feel the ghosts.  Or at least the pervasive, overwhelming sense of death permeating this city.  He didn’t doubt that something requiring Justice League Dark attention was going on here.  Beyond just whatever was going on with Fenton himself.  

But his attention was taken by two other points.  

One, what he didn’t believe was that Fenton did all this for only some combination of kicks and giggles and wanting Justice League attention.  Contacts with ghosts or not, burglarizing archdemons wasn’t something anyone sane blew off as nothing.

Two, Fenton had said friends.  He’d understand if he’d made Zatanna, but the plural implied that he’d spotted Batman, too.  

He didn’t let himself react.  “No one rips off archdemons to call in a tip.  Or just for fun.”

Fenton looked guilty, a blush creeping across his cheeks.  “I didn’t want to bring it up, it didn’t seem appropriate anymore.  And the other thing isn’t… relevant.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what’s relevant?” asked Constantine, despite how all his senses were screaming wrong wrong wrong at him.   “This is my soul we’re talking about, after all.”

“I know, I know,” said Fenton.  “But you didn’t exactly…”  He trailed off.  “The other thing was that some of my friends thought you need an intervention.  We also wanted to see your face when we… intervened.  Yeah, we thought it’d look kind of like that.”  Fenton pointed at him.

Constantine slapped away the hand.  He was almost convinced Fenton was… Well.  Not normal, but maybe not homicidal, or particularly interested in enslaving Constantine or torturing him for all time.  A step up from some of the other things he’d sold his soul to in the past.  Possibly.  

(The whole ‘teenager’ thing was definitely an entry in the negative column, though.  As well as the whole humiliation and mockery angle.)

“What else?” he demanded.  

Fenton’s face twisted with embarrassment and jealousy.  “You get to go up to the Watchtower, don’t you?” he asked.  “You get to go to space.”

“So?”

“So, I want to go to space.  I was, um.  I was going to… ask you to take me up there.  Just to look.”

Infiltrating the Watchtower was a much more obvious motive, but… Constantine remembered the space camp ID.  

“I mean, I’m never going to get up there with my grades.  Fighting demons for it seemed… feasible.”  He shrugged, then started to slump.  “I was going to give them back, you know.  Your contracts.  I didn’t want to keep them.  Or your soul.”  He pushed himself up.  “Anyway.  None of that matters, now.  We've got a problem to solve.”

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, as I explained in my letter, the contracts sort of… exploded."

"No, back up, what do you mean it doesn't matter?"

"Well, if this doesn't make you stop selling your soul, I don’t know what will, the Justice League knows about Amity now, I'm not going to make you take me to the Watchtower when I can't trade your soul back to you, and the funny boat sailed at about the same time my friend told me this might be permanent."

"Is this friend also dead?" drawled Constantine. 

"No, he's more in the never alive category."

Which possibly explained some of the spirit magic Zatanna detected on the letter. 

"He thinks it's because some of your contracts said after death instead of when you're dead, so, because there weren't any competing claims, they all came due at once.  Since there were so many of them…"

"Repetition makes magic stronger, yeah, yeah," said Constantine.  "I read the letter."

"I was hoping you'd have some solutions.  No offense, but I don't want to own you.  You're, like, an entire person."

Constantine wouldn't have been offended if Fenton hadn't prefixed his statement with no offense.  

“You should have thought about that before buying up my soul.”

“I was going to give it back.  No strings.”

“Except for a trip to the Watchtower.”

“If you really didn’t want to, I wouldn’t have made you,” said Fenton.  

Somehow, Constantine believed him.  Which was crazy.  He’d have to check in with Zatanna to make sure he wasn’t being enchanted somehow.  Charm person should not be a real thing magicians could do, and yet…

“Look, do you want me to swear it on the Styx or is there something else I can do to convince you I’m telling the truth?” asked Fenton.  “The ghosts seem to like the Styx, anyway.”  He sighed.  “Tell me you have something that can fix this.  I don’t know what kind of side effects there are for owning a person’s soul.  It’s not like this happens all the time.”

Hell if Constantine knew.  The only way he knew to get out of contracts like this was loopholes exploited before they were collected on.  “I’m… going to have to do some research.”

“Well,” said Fenton, “let me give you my phone number.”  He slid a piece of paper across the table.  “You can call me if you figure anything out.  In the meantime, if you’re staying in town long, you should look into the ghost thing.  Talk to my parents, even.  Maybe don’t mention all this, though.”

“Why not?”

“I love my parents, but they must have skipped out on the day they teach scientists that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should.  Anyway, I’ve got to go.”  He started to shove things into a purple backpack he’d pulled into his lap from under the table.  

“What?  Why?”  As far as Constantine was concerned, they’d only just started to scratch the surface of the problem.  

“Me and my friends have tickets to a movie.”  He hooked his thumb over his shoulder at Manson and Foley, who, apparently, were not trying to blend in or be subtle.  “You did miss the first few meeting times.”

.

“Your impression?” asked Zatanna, later, sliding into the booth after Fenton and his friends were thoroughly gone.  

“He’s… surprisingly believable.  Claims he ‘doesn’t have any training’ in magic, though, which sounds like crap, unless his parents are much more legit than what they look like on paper.”

Zatanna crossed her arms and drummed her fingers on her elbow.  “He wasn’t lying.  Not that any of my spells could detect.”

Constantine huffed.  “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“He doesn’t seem like he could take on archdemons, but with help from ghosts or spirits?  We don’t know who’s backing him.”

“God,” said Constantine, “that’s not something I was thinking of.”

“Because you were fixated on the demon theory.”

“But if he’s being backed by someone powerful, why wouldn’t they buy up my contracts themself?  That doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m not saying that his… patron, for lack of a better word, put him up to it.  Just that he might be getting extra support.”

A waitress came up to them, smiling cheerily.  “Hello, there, sorry for the delay.  Have you decided what you’re getting?”

“The hot chocolate looked good,” said Zatanna.  

“Knock yourself out,” said Constantine, standing.  “I’m going to see what Fenton’s parents are like.”

.

“John Constantine?” repeated Jack Fenton, inquisitively.  “Ha!  That’s the same name that was on that fake demon contract thing I got on Ebay!  What a wild coincidence, huh?”

.

“You could have mentioned the portal to the astral plane in your basement,” hissed Constantine into the phone.  A tiny voice in the back of his head warned him that he shouldn’t take that tone with someone who owned him, but he ignored it handily.  

“Would you have believed me if I told you?” asked Fenton, genuinely curious.  

Constantine wouldn’t have, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Also, what did you call it?  I’ve never heard anyone call it that.”

.

Batman’s deep voice rumbled through the communicator.  “What did you learn?” 

“I learned this place is a nightmare and a half.  There’s a portal to the astral plane in that kid’s basement, did you know?”

“I ran into a ghost while Constantine was talking to the Fentons,” said Zatanna, leaning sideways while keeping her eyes on the road.  “It was much more powerful than any other ghost I’ve ever seen.”

“That is not good news considering what I have learned about the so-called Guys in White.”

.

“Have you found anything?” asked Fenton.  Wherever he was, his reception was crap.  His voice crackled with enough static that he might as well be calling from the early nineteen-twenties.    

“No,” said Constantine.  It had gotten him excused from the Justice Club meetings, which meant that the failure was almost worth the headache the idea of his soul being owned by a teenager caused him.  

“I didn’t find anything either.”

“Then why did you call?”

“Uh,” said Fenton.  “I’m really grateful you guys got the GIW out of Amity, you know that, right?  And that you guys put someone on watch here for bigger threats?”

“Yeah,” said Constantine, slowly.  “Sure.”  It had been mostly Batman managing that side of things, as Constantine was banned from decisions regarding Amity Park, but if Fenton was going to give Constantine credit, who was he to deny it?

“So, um.  That was really great of you.”

Constantine was not liking where this was going.  But, apparently, this was his life, now.  Getting tips and awkwardly phrased requests from… God.  The creepy necromancer brat was sort of his warlock patron.  

… Curse his knowledge of Dungeons and Dragons.  It was definitely a detriment to his profession as a real mage, and everything he learned about it was against his will and usually the Flash’s fault.  

“What is it, Fenton?”

“Have you ever heard of the Showenhowers?” 

#dc/dp #dcxdp #fic #my fic

[tgmsunmontue]

Team Player 3/7

Hangster. Jake's cousin plays for the Sydney Roosters and gifts him with merchandise regularly. Bradley has an unexpected realization.

PART ONE PART TWO

THREE

                “Where am I going to take him?”

                “You really need to calm down.”

                “Nat, I asked him out and he said yes.”

                “Mmm. A complete surprise. Shocking. Truly.”

                “What?”

                “I’m sorry, he’s sort of the type that thinks poking fun of someone is a way of letting them know he likes them… most boys outgrow it before they leave high school.”

                “What?”

                “He likes you. Has liked you for years. Just… you never seemed to like him back. And now… you do.”

                “I want to fuck him, I think liking him back might be stretching it a little.”

                “You want to do more than just fuck him. You’re lying to yourself and it isn’t making you look good. You only wanted to fuck him when you saw him plastered with your call sign. You want him to be yours. Like, locked down and married type shit.”

                “What?”

                “I know, I know. You’re going on your first date, but just let me call dibs on being your best man when you get married.”

                “What?”

                “Are you broken? You seem broken. You’re saying what a lot.”

                “I’m not broken. You’re talking about me and Hangman getting married.”

                “Just calling it like I see it. Feel free to try and prove me wrong, although I think you’ll be happier if you just go with my prediction.”

                “Can we focus please! Where should I take him?”

                “Dinner? Movies?”

                “Wow, really original…”

                “I can leave.”

                “No! Sorry. I’m just…”

                “Nervous. I get it. You like him.”

                “I do. Fuck. What’s wrong with me?”

                “Well, did you want a list or a pie chart?”

                “Nat!”

                “Sorry. You’re allowed to like him. Apart from his justifiable large ego, he’s actually a decent guy.”

                “Okay, yeah. I know. Okay. I think I might take him to Belmont.”

                “I thought you said before that you didn’t want anything competitive?”

                “We can just do the rides.”

                “You both fly fighter jets for a living and you’re going to go thrill seeking at Belmont? Huh. That’s actually not a bad idea.”

                “Yeah? You think he’ll like it?”

                “Seriously, you could suggest watching infomercials and getting pizza delivered and he’d do it, and like it…”

                Bradley pulls a face, because he fucking doubts it, but he feels like Belmont Park will be okay. Fun. He lets Natasha leave, insists he doesn’t need her help anymore. He’s decided, even if he’s a little jittery thinking about the fact that he didn’t leave himself more time between asking Hangman out and them deciding the next day was a good day and time. He showers and dresses, pulling on his darkest jeans and oh fuck… maybe he should have kept Natasha here after all. He picks up his phone, opens it up to send her a message and there it is. A message telling him what to wear and he laughs. God she knows him so well. Not a Hawaiian shirt, he can manage that.

                He blasts his rev me up playlist on the way to pick up Hangman, hoping it might fill him with some confidence, and it all slips away anyway as Hangman walks down the steps toward him. He looks relaxed, also wearing jeans though his are lighter colored, and he’s wearing a hoodie, something he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Hangman wear.

                “Am I dressed okay? You’re wearing a proper shirt…”

                “Uh, you’re fine. Thought we could go to Belmont.”

                “Oh cool, I haven’t been to Belmont in years.”

                “Yeah, I thought we could do some rides, eat overpriced food, maybe do some games. I didn’t want to pick anything solely competitive…”

                “Afraid of losing to me?”

                Bradley rolls his eyes, but Natasha’s words from earlier and running through his head, that this is Hangman’s way of flirting.

     ��          “Already got a date with you, pretty sure that’s all the winning I need.”

                Jake blushes. Fucking blushes and Bradley looks away and grins, realizing he can throw Jake off with sincerity. He can do that, especially because Jake is even more gorgeous when he looks a little flustered. He reverses back onto the road and heads out, wonders if it’s going to be awkward but Hangman is filling the silence, asking questions about what he’d done with his day off today and talking about what he’s done. The twenty-minute drive goes by quickly, easily, and it makes him feel better about the date ahead. He parks the car and gets out, locking it and then looks up, Hangman has his back to him, is staring up at something, he can’t look because his eyes are fixed on the back of Jake’s back, the word Roosters stretched between his shoulder blades.

                He is so fucked.

PART FOUR

#hangster #sereshaw #rooster x hangman #top gun maverick #Team Player

[shrekgogurt]

Well folks. I’m on my substitute teaching grind again this week! Scheduled each day up in hopes of getting some good writing done. I did on Monday! And then proceeded to finally start reading @ninemagicks Game/Set/Match yesterday and did that every bell so uhhhhhh. Today………..well ummmmm…..yeah today I worked on chapter graphics because I’m in big procrastination mode. I want to keep riding this wave of engagement (that sounds corporate gross) but I’m also very much in my head about delivering. I should probably channel this energy into writing the chapter since such pressure is Baz’s literal arc but uhhhhhhhh why do that when I could Simon avoid. I love being mentally well!

One might say I need to find my own bravado. (more under the cut)

lol the chapter title for 13 is bravado by lorde

ok anyway

“Work In Progress Wednesday” right? That means I can talk about the progress of every part of the process? Huh? Yeah? Are you gonna stop me? TRY! TRY TO STOP ME!

Aggression aside, let’s get into it.

As previously stated on Sunday, we find ourselves at intermission. But that’s just the theatrical way of slicing up the story. The fun thing about 24 chapters (I got rid of my originally planned intermission chapter because I didn’t want to write it anymore) is that math really loves the number 24. It’s scrumptious. Yummily divisible. Ergo, IKABIKAM also has/is/will be deliciously divided. Afterall, I do keep saying I’m cooking on it.

Now, to put @alexalexinii on blast (sorry for perceiving you), they wrote in the tags of a Chapter 12 reblog: #made me realise that this fic had proper arcs? And I grinned. I cackled. I rubbed my grubby little hands together at the top of my tower as I’ve been doing this whole time because oh ARCS???????? YOU WANT ARCS???????????? I’VE GOT ARCS LYING IN WAIT LIKE YOU WOULDN’T BELIEVE. (I love overselling myself.)

Allow me to let you in on some of the building blocks thus far.

Chapters 1, 2, 3: a complicated reunion which is shaky but ultimately sets up

Chapters 4, 5, 6: developing the friendship which is a crucial foundation for

Chapters 7, 8, 9: the gay (Baz’s increasingly more external “hi i’m gay”, Simon’s internal “oh wait me too”) which then explodes into

Chapters 10, 11, 12: all that political parent stuff that’s been hinted at in passing which is BIG relevant and incredibly intertwined in this tangled up mess that leads into the work of….

You get it. They’re mini trilogies. Don’t ask me about dividing the chapters into groups of four because I didn’t have that in mind while writing. I like threes better. Always have. Absolute banger of a prime number.

If you for some reason want to read more about the structure, I write a little more about it in this wipsday from when I was procrastinating 9.

Now, @cutestkilla keeps telling me I’m at the downward slope now but honestly delivering on what I’ve set up scares the shit out of me WAY more than the grunt work. I’m uhhhhh yeah. This is why I’m chronically unable to finish projects but by GOD I will finish this one. I swear by it.

So here are three sentences. You get to guess from who and when.

Loving him comes as naturally as breathing. It’s intuitive when I’m not thinking. Or rather, when I’m not panicking.

If you want to follow along with all the songs I’m hyperfixating on as inspiration I’ve been sharing them over on the “shrogurt” instagram. There’s nothing I love more than talking way too much about this damn fic. Thanks for reading!

And thank you for the tags today: @nausikaaa @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @artsyunderstudy @prettygoododds @emeryhall

Now tagging: @brilla-brilla-estrellita @captain-aralias @dani-vc @ebbpettier @excalisbury @facewithoutheart @fatalfangirl @hagnoart @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @j-nipper-95 @larkral @letraspal @martsonmars @messofthejess @moodandmist @mooncello @nightimedreamersworld @onepintobean @palimpsessed @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @theearlgreymage @theimpossibledemon @thewholelemon @valeffelees @whogaveyoupermission @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

#as i was typing this an eighth grader started singing that jack harlow song help #wipsday #ikabikam #vainposting #Youtube

[wonijinjin]

dust: a christmas special (ot7)

author’s note: to end the holiday season here is a little special with your favourite boys! have a peaceful day, take care.

synopsis: the christmas chaos vanished, time to clean up your mess, but it is not easy with those seven.

word count: 1.0k | genre: fluff, humour/crack | pairings: enhypen x gn! reader (platonic!) | warnings: mentions of being deaf, yelling, playfighting

“i think we should start cleaning up guys, the situation is not sustainable anymore.” it was the last day of christmas, the holy spirit and the holiday atmosphere slowly fading as time went on, you and the boys getting full and sick of stuffing yourselves with delicious special meals which you partly helped cook as well as got delivered to make sure you had enough of everything. wrappers of chocolate and presents were all over the kitchen counter, not leaving any space for you to make your morning drink; moreover the house looked like a mess, the two floors were terribly packed with all sorts of stuff you had to get in order to complete the decoration or to ensure that everyone was having the time of their lives (which included a karaoke machine, darts, and a table tennis court just to mention some activities you did), them being a bit damaged due to the excitement of the day before, the boys handling them roughly. “what did you say? sorry i’m literally deaf, yesterday’s karaoke destroyed my eardrums…even though i wanted to just sleep peacefully…” jake complained while moving into the kitchen, eyes barely open since he didn’t get enough sleep. “oh shit-“ “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT OH MY GOD!”jake whined when you accidentally knocked the pot next to you over, its fall chattering on the marble floor, making your friend jump in surprise. “whoops, sorry. can you get the others? we need to clean this mess up.” you said gently, trying not to startle the poor boy even more.

ten minutes later all of the seven men were on their feet, sleepy gazes pinned upon your figure while waiting for an answer as of why you needed them so badly since jakey had no energy to even finish his sentence. “this is disgusting guys. i don’t even know where this suspicious substance came from, but i think it is better for all of us if we try to get rid of it.” you said with a face of shock, holding a roll of wipes and pointing at the countertop which had what you suspected was some kind of juice, sticking to everything of course. “hee please take the ornaments down from the rooms with riki, they are like broken in half or ripped into pieces anyways, so you can just throw them in the trash can.” you ordered, ushering the oldest and youngest boys of the group out of the mentioned room, and grabbing jay by his hand. “you are gonna help me clean the kitchen since we are probably the only ones who actually know how to do it.” he smiled at your words; you often came around to their dorm to spend time with them, meanwhile getting into a habit of cooking with jay, and this holiday was no exception; you had a blast with these silly boys whom you loved dearly, but the fun was over and everyone had to get back into their normal lives soon, not to mention new year’s eve rolling around soon enough. “sunoo, sunghoon please collect the wrappers.” you pleaded, the duo already hurrying to get the bags. “and lastly jakey and wonnie, can you go out to buy some new garbage bags and cleaning stuff? we are gonna run out i think.” you wondered, looking around the cabinets to find out what was necessary.

after hours of mopping and like ten bags of trash later you finally managed to get the building squeaky clean. “good job guys! i miss the christmas spirit, but i think this little session did wonders to the house! isn’t it nice to have a clean surface to sit down on?” you grinned at them, however they weren’t that happy. “yeah yeah great…” jay said while scratching the back of his head. “i wasted half a day for this…when i could’ve went out to get that ichiran ramen i got from heeseung!” riki added right after, surely not being satisfied with how his holiday came to an end. “i will treat you to a big meal on new year’s eve okay? yall are so dramatic!” you said with a blank expression. “you guys did nothing but eat and play for DAYS…a bit of hygiene doesn’t hurt you know.” sunoo sided with you, happily skipping around the house in the sunshine that was coming in through the big windows. “hah! that’s it for you all, sunny is on my side! i knew you would never let me down!” you ran to him, hugging him tightly to which he responded with a bubbly laugh. “are we gonna argue about this any further or are we gonna finally try to solve that 20000 piece lego set you bought for us?” jungwon asked with a cocked brow, you not even having time to process what happened when sunghoon started screaming. “YEAH FINALLY, THE LEGO!” he quickly grabbed it and poured it out onto the ground, sitting down next to the pieces. “now that i think of it it was a good decision to put away the stuff which has been laying here. now we have all the space for the fun!” heeseung commented, already lowering himself next to hoon. you watched the seven idiots fondly, looking at how their eyes sparkled. “okay big boys, let’s start then!”

bonus:

“YAHHH RIKI DID YOU LOSE THE LAST PIECE?” “I TOLD YOU I HAVEN’T SEEN IT, ARE YOU STUPID?” “HEY! that is not how you talk to the older members!” “it was sunoo’s fault anyways, he was dancing around i bet he kicked it off somewhere…” “I WILL MAKE SURE YOU WILL BE THE ONE KICKED OFF YOU LIAR!” “here we go again…”

#wonijinjin #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen jay #enhypen heeseung #enhypen kim sunoo #enhypen sunoo #enha #enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enha sunoo #enha fluff #enhypen niki #enhypen jungwon #enhypen jongseong #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jaeyun #sim jaeyun #jake sim #park sunghoon #park jongseong #lee heeseung #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki

[jays-nook]

Watched the First 4 Episodes of the PJO Series, Here are My Thoughts:

Cast:

I absolutely love the cast!! They are just so perfect for their roles!! I've seen my fair share of clips and behind the scenes footage to know the chemistry between the actors and how perfectly the main trio embodies their characters, but actually seeing their acting and how well they fit together just makes sense in my brain!! They're all so small as well and adorable that it really puts it into perspective how young they truly are to be going through all of this and the things the characters go through as the books progress. It hurts but it's also endears you more to the actors and the characters.

Walker is just absolutely perfect as Percy. He's such a little shit and the way he delivers his lines, whether they're angry/emotional/sad or just comedic, is simply amazing!

"I am impertinent" THAT PART HAD ME WHEEZING FR

Although I don't have an issue with Lin Manuel Miranda as a person (I absolutely love his works and stuff) it does not make sense to cast him as Hermes, and that's just going off the elevator scene when he delivers the package! Like I honestly can't imagine this man as Luke's father :// It could've been better.

But the others are just great! Their energy is amazing and omg Mr. D was a blast! It's a much different portrayal than I was expecting since Mr. D is so chill and like aloof in the books, but seeing him yell and stuff at Percy to take on the quest just made me look at him in a new light!!

Filming/Aesthetics:

Every scene is shot so beautifully! And the choices they made with the places they add the music too!! Like the entire fight with the Minotaur being void of music was such a good choice. It just makes the entire scene so much more emotionally charged and tense while keeping the audience on the edge of their seat!! It was filmed so well and god it transported me to how it felt like when I read the books for the first time and went through that scene~

And omg the scene with Sally just sitting in the rain on the windowsill :(( That one was so soft and sad istg- any scene with Sally was just perfect, love her and the actress who did such a good job with her!!

Changes from the Books:

It's been around 5 or so?? years since I last read the books, so my recollection of what actually happened and what didn't was a bit fuzzy while watching the series but I was able to see how things changed. And so far, I don't mind the changes that much, like yes some had me staring at the screen like "hm" because they wetn a different way than I was expecting, but overall not too bad!

I did enjoy the scenes with Medusa, I liked having Percy wanting to hear her out and trusting to follow her inside because of what Sally had told him when he was a kid. I liked the conversations between Percy and her in the kitchen and even when she was explaining her side of the story to the trio. It was such a good way to present the scene, to show her resentment of both Athena and Posiedon, and also to show how she interacts with Percy to lure him in and play on his trusting and albeit naive nature at that point in the quest.

I did see people talking about episode 8 and the big reveal tho and I'm both excited to see it but also wary of the change they added cause I've seen a lot of mixed reactions. Some prefer the book version, some the version in the series.

General Thoughts:

I'm honestly enjoying the series, it's exciting seeing it all come to life and the dynamics and just sitting there in anticipation of what's to come.

I'm currently watching it with my big sis and let me tell y'all it's so much fun!! She hasn't read the books so all she knows is purely from when we watched the movies together a long time ago so she doesnt remember much (but unfortunately the big reveal at the end isn't going to be a surprise for her). I'm having the time of my life being a little shit and laughing at her confusion or whenever she'd start yelling "WHAT" at the screen like when Sally dissapeared HAHAHA she keeps turning to me and trying to come to conclusions and theories for things while I just smile or shake my head at outrageous ones. I am excited to see her reactions to certain scenes in the other books, especially when it comes to a certain someones end in the last book (she does not like him rn so I'm like 👀 rn to see if that might change along the way).

Uncle Rick did such a good job with the series so far and I'm excited to watch the rest of it, especially now that news of it being renewed for season 2 came out HEHEHE

And thats it for today! I'll be watching the rest of the series at some point this week and will be sharing the rest of my thoughts then. Thank u for reaching the end haha. Till then, have a good day folks and stay tuned! <3

*Last 4 episodes here*

#percy jackson #pjo #pjo series #pjo tv show #I am NOT watching this on the official websites #not giving disney any money #keep boycotting!

[gunsatthaphan]

🏆 𝒯𝑜𝓅 𝟣𝟢 𝑜𝒻 𝟤𝟢𝟤𝟤 💫

a few anons have requested this and also I was in the mood so here are my Top 10 BLs of 2022 (only including the ones that finished this year). Also I have posted more lengthy reviews for each of these shows already so I’m gonna try and keep it short lol. 

not much to say here, if you know me and my blog then you know how much this show and firstkhao have taken over my life this year lmao. I loved the story so much and everything about it felt so genuine all the way through. FK did an incredible job at actually becoming their characters and I was so in awe of their portrayal. They made something incredible out of a little budget and that’s why I cherished it so much. The plot wasn’t perfect, there were holes and weaknesses but firstkhao, paired with the watching experience, made it perfect for me. 13/10. 

this one gets the award for most underrated show of the year lmao. I loved it so much. like.... what an actual masterpiece?? the cinematography was stunning and the whole concept was so captivating. jimmysea delivered big time and while there were some draggy parts in the middle, the script ultimately proved itself to be absolutely outstanding. Sadly it didn’t get the attention it deserved. 

OOF. I mean. How can I not include this mess of a project lmao (affectionate). was the script oscar-worthy? no. did it make a lot of sense? nah. but did I have the time of my life watching it? hell ya. The craze that surrounded this show was insane and it made the whole thing 10x better lmao. It was hilarious, the characters were likable and the chemistries were fire from every couple involved. It was the watching experience that made me put this as my no.3 because I had a blast.

This was such a nice surprise for me because I wasn’t in the mood for another KBL after the disaster that was To My Star 2 lmao but this was absolutely amazing. The script was genius and so was the entire production quality. This was the first show I saw with the 2 leads as I didn’t watch Kissable Lips but I was very pleasantly surprised by their chemistry. I would love to see them in more stuff in the future!  

GOD. This show has my whole heart lmao. I would consider it a guilty pleasure though because it’s definitely not for everyone. But it hit the nail right on the head for me. It was SO adorable and SO hilarious and I have a huge weak spot for kaownah and turbo because they are just so lovely together. Lots of crack but the best kind lmao. Perfect. 

🥺🥺 what an absolute gem of a show this was. A+ comedy and also the perfect proof that you can actually make something out of what seems like the most basic bl plot ever lol. But what they made of it was amazing. MekKim were super entertaining, also Lee and Park had no business being the most adorable couple I’ve ever seen??? sickening. I love them so much. The setup was super nice and it plays with several bl clichés in a very cunning way. Loved it!!!! 

YES I LOVED THIS!!!!!! This show polarized a lot when it aired, mostly because of the body swap plot and also the disney antics lol and tbh I was expecting to agree with the critical opinions as I don’t like body swap tropes but I was surprised by how much I loved it. How they handled the plot was funny and adorable, plus the whole roadtrip theme and all the sceneries were so nice! And needless to say you can never go wrong with EarthMix. they always deliver and especially Mix’s acting left a big impression with me.

This show never got a lot of attention and most reviews were not good but guess what I disagree kfjdghfd. I loved it so much. The dynamic between the mains was fantastic and with so much cuteness it made me sick dfkjghf. The power of this show lies in its minimalism for me, there were so many small endearing things and everything felt 100% natural. Also they were one of the few pairings in a KBL that actually felt like a realistic couple lol. Han Gi Chan was outstanding and considering this was Holland’s acting debut, he did a very decent job as well. Also the cinematography? stunning. I went in with zero expectations and came out with teary heart eyes lol. 

I was fairly excited for this one as it was Joong’s GMMTV debut and I was not disappointed. It doesn’t hold up with some of gmm’s other highlights this year but I liked it!!! It relied a lot on JoongDunk’s chemistry which I’m not mad about though. They’re really good together. The rest of the cast was also top-notch with an A+ friend group lol. The plot wasn’t super elaborate but once again, the watching experience did it for me lol. 

I liked this one a lot!!! It was the first KBL that I thoroughly enjoyed since Light On Me and it was so much fun to watch!! The chemistry between the leads was top-notch and even though it doesn’t quite hold up with some other KBLs for me, I still wanted to put it on my list because that’s what it deserves lol. 

thank you 2022 for giving us good gay food lmao. here’s to an even better 2023!! ✨

#thai bl #korean bl #bl dramas #top 10 #top 10 of 2022 #bl drama #feel free to tag me in your top 10 lol im curious!! 💜 #happy new year!!!!!!!

[divinegrey]

𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 / 𝘫𝘦𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

first jett prompt! the anon requested something similar to a reyna imagine i did a few days ago, so i did my best to deliver. hope it's alright!

prompt: hi! really loved your 'empress' kiss' story. could you possibly do something similar with jett or sage? its okay if it isn't that long but i would really appreciate it :)

words: 1200

warnings: alcohol use, fluff

“It’s an actual crime that you aren’t dancing with me right now.” 

You throw back the shot you just purchased from the bar, the alcohol sliding down your throat. Shit, it burns, and you bite down on the slice of lime to get rid of the nasty feeling in your throat that comes from cheap tequila. 

“Well, you haven’t fuckin’ asked me!” You say to Jett, pushing the dirty glass and half-eaten lime wedge back toward the bartender. Jett huffs, grabbing your wrist rather impatiently before dragging you out to the dancefloor. Heavy music blasts through the club, and you wonder why anyone left tonight’s event up to Phoenix— you’re ninety five percent sure it’s just the Backstreet Boys playing, but you’ve had a couple shots and you don’t really care too much right now. 

Jett pushes through the throngs of people; you pass by Neon, and you swear you see Raze near the DJ booth trying to smuggle money to presumably change the music to something a little more… not British. 

Sorry Phoenix. 

Everyone is in their civvies; with an opportunity to go clubbing, everyone has brought out their latest and greatest outfits. Or, well, most of them. You think you saw Fade lurking somewhere in a hoodie and black pants, but your memory is hazy. All you can focus on is Jett’s lean body in her tight sleeveless crop top. Even out of Protocol, her clothing choice remains consistent; loose techwear joggers, crisp sneakers, and some fingerless gloves on her hands. 

You really aren’t surprised when the music changes to a better beat— Raze has fantastic taste, and the majority of the club seems to agree too. Jett swings you around, a smile on her face, and it’s difficult to think about anything else when all you see is her white hair, loose around her shoulders, and the steel grey of her eyes reflecting the strobe lights overhead. 

With the beat shifting to something you’d call a little more sinful, Jett is all too happy to go with the flow. She turns around, backing up into you. The music muffles the squeak that leaves your mouth as Jett begins to— ahem— throw it back. Somewhere in your alcohol-addled brain, instinct kicks in and you hold her by the waist, stepping into the groove of the music. 

Maybe you’re intoxicated. 

Or being near Jett like this with the massive crush you have on her is making your intoxication worse. 

And she is none the wiser to the way you blush at her. Here, you can at least blame it on the alcohol. 

There’s a grin on Jett’s face that makes you smile too, and you unknowingly squeeze her hips, pressing into her. Jett’s eyes connect with yours when she glances over her shoulder; she straightens up, putting her back to your front and reaching behind to hold onto your arm as she dances the night away. 

God, you think you might fall over. 

Someone bumps into your back— Phoenix, you think— and it forces you closer to Jett. If she’s unhappy, she certainly doesn’t look like it, as you can hear her laugh over the heavy bass of the Brazilian music flowing through the club. 

She spins around, your hands sliding on her waist until they find a place once more. 

“You’re a good dancer!” Jett shouts over the music, and your face burns. 

“Y— yeah! You too!” You say back, only for her to screw up her face like she didn’t hear you. You lean closer to her ear, saying quite loudly, “I said you’re good at dancing too!” 

You realize you may have been baited into getting closer to her, because Jett winds her arms around your neck and it’s incredibly difficult to pull away when she clearly wants you this close. Not that you’d want to step away, because at least being this close to her gives you the excuse to pretend that you’re her girlfriend and not just her best friend. 

Vaguely, you recognize the slow and sensual beat of the music playing— one of Raze’s favorites, Pantera by Anitta. Of course the Brazilian would get the DJ to play this. She probably saw you and Jett on the dancefloor and decided to make it her problem. 

To anyone other than Jett, your crush is obvious. To the woman herself, she’s none the wiser. 

You’re okay with that if it means getting to be her best friend. 

You exhale a warm breath into the crook of Jett’s neck, swaying your hips in time to the music. You think if you look at her right now, you might not be able to handle it with all the alcohol you’ve consumed. 

But you’ve never been one to get what you want. 

Jett’s fingers move through your hair and you pull away, wondering if you’ve done something wrong, only to see her smiling so widely your heart melts inside of your chest. Your body moves on autopilot among the throngs of people, leading the dance, but you’re glued to the way the lights dance in Jett’s eyes. At this moment, you’ve never been more sure of anything in your life. 

You’re in love with her. 

“Jett!” You shout, catching her attention. She looks at you, her eyes unfocused and hazy. You stare at her; any other words you could say vanish into thin air. Your fingers fidget from where they rest on her hips, and you swallow thickly. 

Jett looks at you. 

But this… this feels different than any other time she’s looked at you. 

Could she feel the same way? 

Her hand moves from your hair to your cheek, her thumb stroking softly under your eye. You absorb the feeling of her fingers, calloused from knives. 

Jett has always been the braver one out of the two of you. 

Her arm tightens around your neck, forcing your head forward and she meets you in the middle. 

The taste of cheap vodka is thick on her lips, but you’ve never felt more right in your life. Your arms wrap snugly around Jett, forcing her as close as possible to you as the lights around you go absolutely apeshit. Even with your eyes closed, soaking up the feelings and sensations of Jett kissing you— kissing you!— the lights of the club bathe you both in shades of blues and greens and reds and everything in between. 

 Jett kisses like she’s got a point to prove, and you’re more than willing to let her. Your legs feel weak, your chest full of warmth and nerves mixing together. It boils in your body, the nervous energy you’ve felt the entire night from being close to her in ways that friends shouldn’t have been, and yet, here you are, opening your mouth when she kisses you with her tongue. 

When she pulls away and you feel her breathing against your lips, you’re convinced you’re going to pass out. This isn’t how you thought it would happen; you didn’t think it was going to happen at all. 

Jett leans to the side, to your ear. “Kiss me again, you idiot.” 

And who are you to say no? 

The grin on your face is hard to get rid of, even as you tug Jett back to you and your lips meet hers again. 

#jett x reader #valorant jett x reader #jett #jett valorant #valorant x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant #valorant imagines #jett imagines

[muzzleroars]

Hi, i was fighting a boss in elden ring today and my brain short-circuited to your gabriel when i saw the 2nd phase

(https://youtu.be/60F3uPIplxg?t=88 from 1:28)

The overall heavy grace and fighting style is a slight mismatch imo but i blasted my friend's ears anyway when i saw the wings and the tail :)

OMGHHFG....and when i've just started to think about how he might use his tail in battle, as well as hone his wings for short bursts (while he's able to) ;o; also it means so much to me that you'd think of him while playing elden ring because the souls games are such a major inspiration for me - i know i'm stylistically far out from them, but world and character designs are some of my absolute favorites :]

i think of gabriel as being defined by his role as a warrior, and fighting is the very core of his being as god made him – everything about him gives away that nature, from how he moves in fluid but guarded flight, how he carries his weapons with him even in heaven and is encased in armor as a matter of course, and even his gracious nature is that of a knight to the people he protects. he was made singularly for this and it is his whole purpose, he can be nothing else, and so fighting is an integral part of how he defines himself, how he identifies who he is in the host of heaven. for me, gabriel can only feel fully himself when he’s engaged, and his rapture in god is found on the battlefield. it’s one of the reasons why i picture him covered in scars, he fights not just for god but to feel the divine fire in himself, and part of that is the physical pain he experiences in war. all of it comes together to make gabriel, it creates a whole of his constituent parts – to strategize, to show the skill he’s honed for millennia, to be struck and bear wounds yet still triumph. that is who he is intrinsically.

in this gabriel is absolutely a courteous fighter, he wishes to fight fairly because then his technique is fully on display. his radiance shines here, a merciless warrior once engaged but always giving his enemies a chance to bow out before they begin, facing them fully up front and respecting his opponent outwardly (though he rarely does so in his mind) even if he is tasked with killing them, he still maintains his chivalrous manner and confronts them in the way he believes is necessary – he doesn’t do anything to warrant overkill, using only the strength and arsenal he finds appropriate for his current enemy both because he finds it distasteful otherwise and because well...something in him enjoys his own superiority, to know that he’s using only a fraction of his strength and dexterity. plus it draws out a battle, and his praises are full then, his connection to god’s love flooding into him as he performs his purpose. it’s one of the reasons gabriel gives everything he has into fighting, to feel himself and feel god in him too, how he is praised in return and how he is held in esteem for his work. he is a full vessel only then, and so he does anything asked of him with fervor.

when he falls, he initially holds fast to his decorum as it is all he knows, yet the pain in his body has intensified and he can no longer rely on his wings to carry him. sometimes frustration begins to show, the cracks in his once knightly attitude giving way to brutality because while he is still gracious, he is proud. and to not fight as he once did, to feel some stuttering movements as he relearns the steps and to have lost the divine connection that so defined him, causes a viciousness new to his fighting, a cruelty that maybe he learns in part from v1’s ruthless tactics. i think he eventually strikes a balance, knowing he goes much too far at some point in the anguish of his transformation, but never fully returning either to the righteous angelic technique he once bore. there is grace in his movements and there is lightness in his steps but they now deliver a harshness, unforgiving as the hell he now inhabits that doesn’t allow him the luxury he once had. most importantly, however, is that he recognizes how this is now fully his own – not an empty vessel but one creating his very own rapture

given how important battle is to him, gabriel can find opponents he respects, but it is much more difficult to find an equal – naturally tied to music as he is, fighting for him is like a dance and an equal would be his partner. he wants someone that moves in time with him, someone that matches him blow for blow and someone that treats battle with the reverence and near worship he does – a part of themself and foundational, inherent. that’s why v1 becomes his equal – it survives on battle, it engages it as an art form, and its entire mind and body are given over to it. and like i mentioned about v1 with the ferryman, it tailors its strategy for its opponent, it creates a custom dance just for the two of them and gabriel feels how they move together as one yet on opposing sides. and so his equal can only be someone made in the mold he is, that finds battle so core to who they are that they are not fully themselves outside of it. which is a bit odd, as i think he could face an opponent that could best him and yet still not consider them his equal (if that makes sense!!)

i’m sorry this is so long, but this truly is the central facet of gabriel’s character that i’ve wanted to fully talk about. and while wielding weapons is difficult for some time, he is eventually able to at least use the broken forms of his swords and control hell energy in a similar manner as his light constructs in gluttony. as an angel, he of course favored his swords, but i like the idea too that his favorite ranged weapon is a bow (i really do want to design one similar to his true swords). as a fallen his tastes change, wanting to keep in close to his opponents and so scrapping much use for anything long-range (which he mostly relies on hell energy for) his swords maintain their place in his heart, but i’m also interested in giving him something like gauntlets that can work with his claws rather than always having to file them down if he wants to use a weapon. that being said, gabriel knows how to wield almost any weapon and he finds charm in all of them, even highly interested in learning to use guns from v1. it’s a singular joy for him to find out what makes them effective, how he must move with them and respond to their particular forms to make them shine in battle. it’s truly a huge point of pride for him that he gives care to every weapon held in his hands.

#i hope it's ok i put these together since i already had the first drafted! #but this made me so happy thank you #also i think gabriel's attitude fighting is very different against machines #he finds them so far beneath him that he's a bit irritated he was called to fight them #plus since god is gone at that point he doesn't feel the same love as he once did #it's all just the council handing down jobs to him he hates and getting no praise in return #so he's more than a little out of sorts by the time he faces v1 #cake answers #fallen gabriel

[bluemoonshadow561]

On the Way, Part 1

"My stomach hurts," August whined, curling in on himself and pressing his forehead against the window of his brother’s Mercury Milan.

"I think I know what you might have," Roman said, speaking for the first time since throwing a tantrum over having to sit in the back, exaggerating how little leg room he had — that he needs to stretch because he’s an athlete, he gets cramped, he’s taller than August, waaahhhhh.

"What?" August asked.

"Being a little bitch disease." The way Roman delivered his idiotic go-to insult with such genuine satisfaction and contempt made my lips twitch into a smirk. I turned away so he wouldn’t see.

"Fuck you," August spat, flashing his middle finger as he shifted again in the passenger seat. I glanced over at him, catching a glimpse of his face before he let it droop down, curling in on himself. His usual sun kissed skin was pale tinged with green. I had the air on full blast, but beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead. I was preparing myself for when he’d inevitably puke, trying to make plans for how to handle the situation.

"You’ve got the bag I gave you?"

"Yeah. I’m not gonna throw up on Shelly."

"When are we stop-"

BANG! A bomb went off. That was my first thought. Then I thought we were in a wreck but we were still moving, erratically, swerving. A car laid on their horn. My instincts kicked in, and I hit the breaks, moving the wheel until we stopped on the shoulder.

"What the fuck?" Roman screamed.

"A tire blew out," I breathed, my heart pounding in my throat, my mind racing with the horror of almost killing myself and my brothers.

"Jesus," August whispered.

"Everyone okay?" I asked, but Roman was already getting out of the car. I opened my door and followed him out.

"Holy shit…" Roman remarked.

"God damn it," I sighed, trying to breathe through the anger boiling within me.

August opened the door and fell out onto the ground on his knees, groaning and clutching his stomach.

"What are we gonna do now?" Roman asked. "Can you fix it?"

"No," I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I have to call Triple A."

When I got off the phone, August was lying on the ground in fetal position, breathing rapidly and whimpering softly. I crouched next to him and laid my hand on his shoulder.

"You good?"

"I-"

He suddenly retched and lunged forward, vomiting onto the ground. I grimaced as I watched him heave and gag for the next ten or so minutes before finally wiping his mouth on his sleeve and standing up unsteadily to kick dirt and gravel over the puddle.

He stumbled, hunched over, back to the car and leaned heavily on the door, one arm wrapped around his middle, the other gripping the roof for support. He was swaying and his legs were trembling.

"Are you alright?" I asked. "Roman, get him a water."

"I don’t feel good."

I placed the back of my hand against his forehead, like Mom had done for me, like I had done for August and Roman on days when we came home from school and it was just the three of us until the dark hours of the morning. I cooked chicken noodle soup, coaxed thermometers under their tongues, grabbed extra blankets, wiped their noses, and read them stories until they fell asleep.

August’s skin was burning hot. I opened the door and sat him back down in the seat.

"Here." Roman handed him a bottle of water from the cooler. August struggled to twist the cap off with shaking and sweaty fingers. After Roman did it for him, he took one sip. He really did not look well.

"How long until the Triple A people get here ?" Roman asked.

"I don’t know."

"Should we call Mom?"

"She’s just gonna scream," August said through gritted teeth. "And she’ll scream when we’re late."

"Yeah…"

"Ow!" August cried out suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"My stomach…" He doubled over, gasping. "…hurts...so fucking much."

"Where does it hurt?" I asked, crouching down to meet him at eye level. I wasn’t a doctor. There was nothing I could determine from knowing where the pain was. I knew vaguely that appendicitis caused a pain on your right side. That was about the extent of my knowledge.

"I don’t know," he said. "All over?"

——End of Part 1——

#emeto #vomiting #sickfic #emetophilia #puke

[taffywabbit]

ok story time let's go

(i guess CW// religious baggage? vaguely cult-y stuff? Mormons?)

so i was laughing at that (presumably bait) tweet that got screenshotted and reposted on here, with the person claiming that y'all is a problematic term used by "bigoted southerners" and someone else dunking on them, because I'm Canadian and I say y'all ALL the time. and like, that by itself wouldn't be too notable - there ARE rural areas of Canada, particularly over in Alberta/Saskatchewan, where the local accent and slang have convergently evolved into something very similar to Texas (and I DID actually grow up in a town like that, though i never picked up the accent myself).

what makes my adoption of y'all particularly odd is that I picked it up in the Caribbean of all places. if you are familiar with my Not-So-Secret Tragic Backstory then you MIGHT know where this is going already.

I was raised in a Mormon family, so when I was 18 i was basically required to go do the missionary thing with the white shirts and ties and nametags. (this is very funny considering my current status as a gay trans furry artist and leftist, but this story isn't really about that.) I got assigned a random location in the world, and was shipped off to the Eastern Caribbean for 2 years. it was very hot and sweaty and overall not a very good time for me, the world's blondest palest scrawniest teen who would have to walk around all day every day in office attire.

ANYWAYS a few months after my mission began, we got a new mission president (the old guy assigned by the church to be in charge of all the missionaries in a region, along with his wife). while he was generally a pretty jovial friendly guy, he also had an occasional tendency to powertrip and institute random arbitrary rule changes whenever he felt that the missionaries weren't performing as well as he'd like and the numbers were down. with missionaries, there's a huge focus on "exact obedience" and "consecration" - this idea that the more single-mindedly devoted you are to Doing Missionary Stuff and Thinking About Jesus and Never Having A Single Fucking Independent Thought In Your Head Or Taking Care Of Your Personal Wellbeing Or Enjoying Yourself, the more god will bless you with like. charisma superpowers or something. to just change people's minds on the spot as you blast them with your Conversion Beam. and therefore anytime that ISN'T happening (y'know, because people have free will, and also because being Mormon is wildly unappealing to any reasonable outsider), it clearly MUST be because those darn young punk missionaries are probably thinking too much about their partners back home or drawing Pokemon fanart or collecting distractingly colourful neckties. can't have that!

so with all that context, I can finally get to the point, which is that one day our mission president decided the reason nobody was knocking on our apartment door begging to get baptized was probably because we, as missionaries, were too casual in our interactions with one another. specifically, he took issue with missionaries calling each other "dude" or "bro" or "man", or referring to each other collectively as "you guys". he insisted that this was "eroding the dignity of our sacred calling as missionaries" and that we should instead strive to call each other "Elder" and "Sister" (the titles used for male and female missionaries respectively) as much as humanly possible.

specifically as an alternative to "you guys", he suggested we start saying "Elders and Sisters" every time we addressed a mixed group of missionaries. which OBVIOUSLY sounds really fucking stupid. and I was in a leadership position at the time, so I had to deliver instruction/training to the missionaries in my area every week AND call them to check-in every night. being a missionary and constantly being commanded to do incredibly stupid arbitrary things really brought out my latent rebellious streak, and there was NO fucking way I was going to say "Elders and Sisters" if i could avoid it - the only people who actually complied with the new rule were immediately identifiable as goody-two-shoes and suck-ups and everyone wanted to push them into the ocean.

so INSTEAD, i and several other missionaries quickly realized that we could simply get away with saying "you all" or just plural "you" with like, a hand gesture to show we meant the group. which naturally just evolved into y'all pretty quickly because it's an incredibly natural contraction of words and it just feels good to say. and the mission president never complained about it, because we weren't using cool youngster slang like "guys" or "dudes" and instead it just sounded like a fun twangy rural affectation. and then i just kinda kept saying it for the rest of my mission, and continued saying it after i returned home and went off to college in the city and all that jazz.

...absolutely no clue where I picked up saying "howdy" all the time tho. i don't have an excuse or backstory for that one lol, it's just fun to say

#buny text #storytime #long post #idk what the standard tags are for tagging like. religious shit for folks to blacklist. particularly ex-mormon stuff #so if anyone needs to me to add tags lemme know #thank you for reading my very long post i think this story is very funny personally #i love when friends point out how much i say Y'all and assume it's because i grew up in rural alberta and i get to say 'actually no'

[lewmagoo]

Leah if you've requested Bob and or Rhett thoughts/thots, I'd be more than happy to oblige. I'd been meaning to send in those book recs for a while but we've got kids at work who are going off to kindergarten soon so things have been a little crazier than usual (lol).

I'm still very much a believer in the Rhett x wifey!reader adopting Amy when she was born because Perry's a royal douche canoe and an unfit parent to boot. I know Royal probably wasn't the best dad to Rhett either but I firmly believe that when Amy was born and you and Rhett took her home, he saw what an asshole Perry was and helped Rhett get the paperwork (signing them was a shithouse mess because Perry tried to start shit and it ended up with Royal pinning him to the kitchen table and a pretty nasty shouting match that was Rhett and Royal vs Perry......needless to say Perry lost, lol).

After Royal kicked Perry outta the house, you and Rhett could finally focus on your lives together. The next few years were actually pretty eventful with you and Rhett welcoming your first child together (Hannah Cecelia) and Amy beginning preschool at one of the more outdoorsy schools near where you lived. You, Rhett and his parents grew closer through the grandbabies and you could see that Royal was trying really, really hard to have a relationship with his son and vice versa.

But oh God help you when Hannah was two and you and Rhett found out you were having twin boys. When Rhett showed his parents the ultrasound photos of the boys, Cecelia swore up and down that they were gonna be like their father. Rhett was utterly exasperated when he looked at the photos some time later and realized that the two little buttheads were mooning him.

The two of you were planning your dream home up in Bozeman to be closer to some family friends and to be as far away from Perry as possible but the frigid, Yellowstone winters kinda put a dent in it. You were all snowed in after Thanksgiving and in early December, the two little buttheads decided they were gonna make their grand entrance (I also seriously hc that Cecelia came from a really long line of women who were midwives and helped deliver the kids at home and that her own mother delivered Rhett when he was born). Building the house had been delayed and the snowstorm had snowed everybody in so Cecelia jumped in to help.

Tatum and Tanner were both born on a frigid winter morning, two weeks before Christmas. It was an easy birth in the end with Hannah having been born at the house as well. You can hardly take your eyes off of Rhett as he holds one of the boys, but it's not long before he's talking with Royal about how the boys are the spitting image of him. It's only when you and Cecelia both see Royal holding Tanner that the relationship between Rhett and his father has finally been healed.

I know it's not my best Leah and I know Royal isn't everybody's favorite but this has been simmering in the big pot that is my brain for the better part of a month. I did think of something kinda funny for the boys when they're older and do have some Bob ones, but I won't send'em just yet because I know you probably have alot on your plate right now. I hope you have an absolute blast when the new school year starts and that everything goes smoothly 🥰🥰🥰🥰.

Mary

perry slander! it’s what we’re here for! you and rhett adopting any is my favorite au and one i want to expand on in the future. and the twins being born at home during a snowstorm? why is that so fitting? i love the idea. and i really like the thought of rhett being so involved in their birth. he’s not just there for moral support, my man is in the trenches with you. growing up around animals, not to mention hannah being born at home, he’s seen his fair share of births and he’s actually very equipped to help deliver your babies. i’m sure he catches one or both of them when they make it out into the world.

and then seeing his relationship with his father mended? that’s such a nice thought. him coming to that place of healing is a really big step. it’s funny how this all started with a baby (amy) and three babies later, things are so much different within your family. everyone is at peace with each other.

#asks #rhett musings #tw pregnancy

[handful-of-fish-bones]

Naruto shippuden things that made me lose my mind (ep 366-387):

Tobirama at every opportunity: the uchiha are cursed and evil and they deserve every slight I ever inflicted upon them (God he's such a bastard but I love him sm)

Tobirama @ sasuke: u r an evil uchiha demon and I will vanquish u *activates God powers* Hashirama: >:-( Tobirama: >:-( *deactivates God powers*

Madara: *laying prone* Tobirama, clutching his katana: and now we kill this little bitch. Hashirama: Tobirama no >:-(

Hashirama: well I guess I'll just have to kill myself. Tobirama: *look of mild disgust*

Ep 371: Hole. Ep 372: Something to fill the hole 👀

Everyone: hey orochimaru, why r u gonna help the good guys now? Orochimaru: 🤔well, when I was inside kabuto, I learned a very important lesson...

Madara: HASHIRAMA!!!!!!! hashirama: I'll deal with u later >:-(

Madara at every oppertunity: hashirama, come play with me 🤗

Sasuke: I will become Hokage (sasuke. Babe. You could potentially be a better Hokage than everyone except maybe naruto but u could not sleep bc literally everyone would be trying to assainate u at all times)

The visual of sasuke and naruto staring at eachother behind sakura's back...

Obito why did u make lil rin say "I love u kakashi"? That was weird

Ok, obito flopping out of his lil dimension after getting obliterated by kakashi is so fucking funny

Madara @ obito: time to pay ur dues, bitch *impaled him with a dozen rods*

Tsunade hearing hashirama's voice: Grandpa???!!!

Bold move of naruto to blast his sasuke feelings directly into the brains of every shinobi in the whole shinobi world

So... chakra is canonically a curse upon humanity...

Why does everyone in konoha hate orphans? Like literally everyone is an orphan. This is orphan on orphan violence

Shout out to kishimoto for the creation of Rin, a character so underwritten she doesnt even feel like a person despite being pivotal to the plot

God dammit kakashi, u think the answer to everything is murder or suicide. Get help.

And here we have Kakashi delivering a monolog from Obito's lap...

#the founders? love them to bits #sasuke joining naruto? god i love the weird tension. Minato? i want to squish his face #but obito can gtfo. i just. i dont like him yall. i just don't #and i find it funny that hes having such an awful run of losses lol #he get beat up by kakashi. impaled my madara. becomes the 10 tails jinchuriki. gets owned by naruto #and god. the 10 tails. i loooooooove the 10 tails. love the devine tree. love it so much #but god. i might explode if i have to spend another moment with obito #the kakashi v obito fight is fucking so good tho #naruto #naruto ramblings #unrelated