#”because you’re a puppet. My puppet”

[kifaprokumiv]

Combining my obscure 2005 toxic yuri into one

[elviraaxen]

💋💚🩷

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[gojooooo]

pookie he’s so offended 😭 i just know sukuna would go eheheheh yes brat you should thank me if he heard this exchange

[coco0milkshake]

Haha- long time no see again anyway here’s a slight redesign of Wally

[robots-are-kinda-hot]

Five Pebbles x human reader (platonic) headcanons

I’m very sorry if this is ooc, I’ve never written anything like this before :/

•Five Pebbles is the most emotionally constipated iterator ever made, so this is going to be a very, very long process.

•start by bringing him pearls, trinkets, anything remotely interesting. he is so, so bored!! please give him things!!!

•little by little, he changes. he starts to talk with you more instead of just telling you about what you brought him. he tells you to leave a second later than last time. he lowers his puppet down enough to be at your level.

•eventually, you two could be called friends.

•the cycle Pebbles realizes this, he is more quiet than usual. if you ask what’s wrong, he will tell you not to worry and tell you to leave soon.

•make it clear that you care about him. don’t pry about it, just tell him that you will be there if he wants to tell someone.

•he won’t say anything, but you can tell he appreciates it.

•Eventually, Pebbles will ask “…are we friends?” In a defeated tone, as if you’ve said no already.

•of course, you say yes and… he doesn’t know how to react. His eyes are wide, and pearls start circling him. His antenna flick up and down quicker than you’ve ever seen them.

•Five Pebbles is the happiest he’s ever been after Moon’s fall, and it’s all thanks to one creature at the bottom of his chamber.

•Finally, he opens his arms a little, hoping you will get the hint.

•And if you do hug him, he hugs you back.

[wilwheaton]

In a long essay about the televised incident, Wheaton makes a lot of salient, emotionally vulnerable points about his reaction to David’s stunt, tying it in to memories of parental abuse he suffered as a kid—pointing out, among other things, that, within the agreed-upon fiction that we all adhere to pretty fervently around all things Muppet or Muppet-related, Elmo is a child. Writing, Wheaton notes that “Elmo is an avatar for children all over the world. Children who are too small to understand Elmo is a puppet will know that a man attacked someone they love for no reason, and that will frighten and confuse them.”

Wil Wheaton condemns Larry David for his Elmo-based violence

This story is a week old, and has blown up today. The right wing smoothbrains are out in force, doing their usual thing, until they get distracted by the existence of a successful woman somewhere in the world and have to go rage against that.

I don’t know why this is happening today. I don’t know why right wing clout chasing incels have decided to make this their Thing today. It’s all very confusing, especially a week after the fact.

But I want to put something here that I added to my post on Facebook, that those dudes (it’s always dudes whose entire personality is “MONSTER ENERGY DRINKS!”) need to hear but won’t understand:

A lot of us who had the same visceral reaction to a grown man putting his hands on a child (Elmo is 4 years old) in anger, without consent, and then laughing about it all share an experience that you should be grateful you don't share with us. And when you say your shitty little toxic and cruel thing, when you reduce the whole thing to a puppet and a joke, you're doing to us what the adults around us did when we were kids. And it hurts all over again. Are you really someone who wants to hurt another person simply because you can? Maybe take the impulse to be a jerk and redirect it into being grateful you have no idea why this is so upsetting to so many of us.

Larry David put his hands on another performer, without consent, in a segment he was not part of. That, alone, is not okay. It is not EVER okay. The fact that so many people don’t get that, or are deliberately choosing NOT to get that, is telling.

But as I said, Elmo is a child, and he is a friend to children, so all the kids whose parents were watching the Today Show with them, because Elmo was on to talk about sharing big feelings and caring for your mental health, got to watch this man storm into a set, and angrily attack Elmo.

That’s indefensible behavior, and calling me names doesn’t change that.

[fullofvexation]

I loved the Barbie movie but if I see one more post about how “it’s so beautiful because it was all practical effects not CG uwu ” I’m going to lose my goddamn mind

[dolldefiler]

C/W: Piss, Anal, Rimming, “Dad”, Degradation

What are we doing? Well, sweetheart, I love you very, very much and I’d hate myself if you ever left me… so today, you and I are going to film the sloppiest, most disgusting bit of porn so if you ever leave me, dad has a bit of blackmail material. And yes, princess. We’re going to make this utterly disgusting, so you will call me dad or I’ll make you drink my piss on camera. Now say hi to everyone. Go on. Don’t make me slap you in front of them. Good girl.

No, puppet, you won’t be sucking dad’s cock today. Today you’ll be eating my ass like a good little asswipe. Aww, sweetie, you can do better than that. Your parents might see this, you know. Good fucking girl, fuckkk. Just like that, cunt. That’s a good set of holes, eagerly lapping away at her dad’s asshole. You were born to rim me, weren’t you? Go on, tell the camera how much you love rimming dad. Tell them. Good. You love it a lot, don’t you? Now stick your ass out. Let’s show them your cunt. Fuck… it’s dripping, you pathetic whore. Spread it with your fingers. Fuck…

That’s adorable, sweetie. No, baby, dad’s not going to be fucking your pretty little drooling cunt today. FUCK—that’s right, princess, DAD’S IN YOUR ASS. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re so tight. Shit, you worthless little anal cum dumpster, milk my fucking cock. Look at that everyone. Can you see her asshole clenching around my cock? The worthless mutt actually likes it when shit talk her. She likes it when I break her tight fucking butthole. Fuck, you want to me go slower? How do you like… this instead? Aww, are you crying? Because dad hit you? Cry more.

Oh fuck, look how red her ass is. The dumb slut’s been moaning every time I beat her ass. She likes it. Tell them you love it, cunt. Go on. Fuckk, you sound so hot when you slur your words like that. She can hardly fucking talk, the brainless little fuckmutt. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, FUCK, I’m cumming. Take it all, whore. Dad’s fucking cumming inside your tight, abused asshole. Beg me to keep pouring my jizz inside your ass. Good fucking girl. That’s such a good girl.

God… you called me dad a few times, sweetheart, but I still really need to piss. I promised I wouldn’t make you drink it but I never said anything about not turning your asshole into a urinal. Can you feel it, sweetie? Dad’s piss trickling in your bowels, dripping down your thighs. You better hope I don’t piss a lot because I’ll make you slurp every last drop off the ground. Thank me for using you as a urinal. Now, now, whore, don’t cry. I never broke my promise to you.

Fuck… look at the way it licks up my piss off the floor. If you’re watching this, it means she’s left me. It means she wants her loved ones to see what a disgusting piece of shit she is. But fuck can she make me cum like no one else.

[starkwlkr]

i’m getting older too | hozier

is this random? yes but i don’t care 🥰 LISTEN I KNOW sweet dreams, tn is a song by the last shadow puppets but let’s just use our imagination with this one ok? 😍

faceclaim orion carloto

INSTAGRAM

liked by billieeilish, carolamtz and 2,366,780 others

yourusername married the love of my life!

billieeilish BEAUTIFUL BRIDE 🤍🤍🤍

bellahadid beauty ✨

lilizneimer congratulations!!

landonorris am i still grounded?

yourusername we’re all good now 🤍

honeymoon such a beautiful ceremony ❤️ in love with your love

ynstyle was every celebrity and f1 driver at this wedding?😭

cherrywin3 girl apparently stevie nicks even performed 😔😭

formulatears I NEED TO KNOW WHAT SHE SANG

cherrywin3 landslide because it’s y/n’s favorite song 😭 y/n’s mom just posted a video of y/n crying while stevie sang it’s too precious 🥹

view all 45,466 comments

liked by landonorris, honeymoon and 2,665,890 others

hozier y/n, my heart is, and will always be, yours. ‘sweet dreams, tn’ a gift from me to my beautiful wife.

hozierarchive HE DROPPED AN ALBUM DURING HIS WEDDING??

ynspodium not just any album but an album full of songs that y/n loves covered by him and some original songs too!!

leclercstype STEVIE NICKS, LANA, LORDE, THE LAST SHADOW PUPPETS, NOAH KAHAN, LORD HURON HE GATHERED THE DEPRESSION AVENGERS AND MADE AN ALBUM FOR HIS WIFE 😭

f1wagsstyle WHEN WILL IT BE MY TURN??

yourmomsusername y/n is currently sobbing listening to the album!

ynwdc not mama l/n exposing her daughter 😭 but same!

view all 76,366 comments

liked by hozier, gracieabrams and 2,366,390 others

yourusername 🇮🇪❤️☘️🎵🫶🏼✨💍👰‍♀️🤵‍♂️🤍

landonorris did you have a seizure or….?

yourusername you’re grounded again let me be in love with my hot irish husband on my honeymoon

landonorris you keep that to yourself

f1maeve my brother started watching f1 because of you!! (and he’s hoping to see hozier at a race)

yourusername thanks to your brother!! maybe andrew will finally make an appearance soon 🤍

crybabyprimadonna what’s your favorite song from sweet dreams, tn?

yourusername don’t make me choose!!😭 they all have my heart (but andrew’s cover of landslide with stevie is amazingly beautiful)

hozier wofe

hozier wufe

hozier ife

hozier wafie

hozier woife

yourusername handsome squidward 😍❤️

hozier wife ❤️

charles_leclerc i have no idea what’s going on

yourusername you wouldn’t understand ❤️

[astrogre]

Astro observations 2

Disclaimer: I would like to confirm that my observations are the niche ways in which a placement may manifest, it is the way I’ve noticed it in others, the people around me, celebrities, myself and in my studies. It is not the doctrine wide broad way the placement occurs for everyone.

Jupiter 7H can have a reputation of wanting EVERYONE. Anyone with a pulse, they like everyone, usually their dating history is so diverse that if you put all their love interests in a room together it would be the most strangest group of people. Drake has this placement and he is known for wanting, going on dates with or having a relationship with Nicki minaj, Ice Spice, Jorja smith, JLo, Kylie Jenner, Tyra Banks, Sza, Hailey Beiber, Serena Williams, literally everyone. Marilyn Monroe also has this placement and people would say the same about her. With this placement it can make the native have interest with a lot of people. You can have plenty of potential partners.

Having 12H placements Sun especially can make you feel like your gifts, talents, purpose or whatever planet topic is in it, was made for others. Like serving an ungrateful, complaining customer that ends up eating the entire plate anyway. You individually may not be selfless but it feels like the planet in the 12H benefits others and not you. It feels like a fire that burns to keep others warm.

Conjuncts to the MC (planets and asteroid) show what you are most known for in the workplace, what you’re like at your best self too. Any placements conjunct to MC show what you are like at the peak of your life and how you act in your career and what are known for in your career. That’s how MC can indicate what your career is because it focuses on who you are at your best and how others see you in the workplace and go off from there. Eg. Aquarius MC conjunct Uranus and Webb may indicate you being tech savvy at your best self so astrologers may assume you’re in tech industry or well known online, but you can still be for an example a doctor that aids in treatment with technology, your MC sign doesn’t mean you exclusively work in the industry the sign represents, it just shows you the way you work in the industry you pursue

Neptune 1st housers may look completely different to their parents. Like you can see a hint of their parents features on their face but they don’t look that much like them. They can be born with features that are contrary to their birth parents like red hair and blue eyes in an all brunette family. Or it can be a subtle difference like they appear as if they’re from a different country, people guess their ethnicity incorrectly like all the time.

With Neptune 1st house There is nothing particularly special about these natives physical appearance in particular, they MAKE themselves special. The way they carry their physical body and animate it, is what makes these people so different and admired. They’re like puppeteers for their physical bodies. This is a continuous pattern I’ve seen, like if you just saw these people on the street sure -you’d think they’re pretty.. but not necessarily “otherworldly”, what makes these individuals perceived as such is the way they control/express their behavior. I have noticed Neptune here makes people VERY controlling over their appearances, it does make me question if Neptune is a subtly secretly controlling planet, if it manipulates subconsciously, like a child conveniently stepping on other’s sandcastles when running on the beach so they don’t have to wait their turn for the buckets, these natives can accidentally bring about their ideal version of themselves to reality and everyone is like who is this??? It’s more so like they customised their avatar in their head and showed it to everyone here in the physical plane. It’s like they made themselves a game characters in a world full of civilian people, that’s why they’re so unique looking, it’s because they wrote themselves .

Unpopular opinion but Scorpio Venus isn’t a fun sexy placement that everyone hypes it up to be. It can make you constantly end up in relationships that have weird power dynamics and are just unhealthy. You may struggle to be in a soft loving relationship because it’s not intense enough but that just leads you/partners to manipulate and themes of control in your relationship. Sure, it may be considered“hot” but not healthy. Not love.

Also another thing I’ve realised with this placement, feminine natives attracted to men PLEASE don’t intentionally flirt with someone. You’re already so intense and magnetic without realising it that if you intentionally flirt with men it’s so extreme like a 0-100, that it can overwhelm/scare them because of how predatory it may feel 💀. If a man isn’t pursuing you, he’s not interested because your always appealing and screaming out a mating call even if your physically doing nothing.

Lilith opposite moon natives can have mothers who impose traditional lifestyle and beliefs on the native. For an example the mother may be controlling and imposing her ideas of humbleness, modesty, and traditional masculinity/femininity on the child. Defensive, like she is everything but a mother herself but subjects you to standards she cannot even amount to.

Uranus 2H feel like everything that makes them feel good and safe can be taken away in an instance. These people KNOW what it’s like to have the things they love abruptly taken from them over and over again by others or by nature, until they may even struggle to value the great things they have anymore. 2H rules your values and self worth, for these natives it gets to an extent where they don’t even value themselves because once they finally start to accept themselves they’re shown a perspective to them that they cannot accept.

It is said that the degree of a placement shows which age that planets energy starts to become active. Not sure how true that is but when you look at your natal chart, try keeping it in mind for yourself and look back to when you first had an experience under the themes of that planet. E.g for sun, when and what age did you feel seen, Venus who and how old were you for your first love or romantic partner

Sun conjunct Lilith. People with this placement may deal with their fathers highlighting the most non conforming features of themselves, the smallest of things you do will be escalated, this can manifest as slut shaming, being degraded for the way you are because you’re not “soft”, making you out to be like a chaotic mess, villainising you. Imagine having a loud snitch exposing your most “cancellable” traits. Britney Spears has this exact placement and I went to test if my hypothesis is true:

For Britney this placement is in the 3rd house which rules communication, hence why her father made comments about her like this, but say if it was in the 2nd house it could be done by a father providing less for his child because he deems them unworthy due to their non-traditional traits. This illumination of shame is done by the themes of the house this aspect is in.

All the Sagittarius influenced natives I meet always play a loud an instrument. I’ve seen it in Sagittarius suns especially and also in sag stelliums. I have no idea why, but they always do. They play things like drums, electric guitar. I’ve also seen that they can play piano and other instruments but it’s actually not their main instrument to play and if it’s not instruments they have an interest in LOUD hobbies, like cars.

Pluto in 11th house can have one of those character AI boyfriends, be in a relationship with their NPC rpg girlfriend/boyfriend, or they can just straight up play otome games and deeply feel like they have a connection to the character, these are the kind to marry their VR chat girlfriend and play mystic messenger.

Also Pluto 11Hs if your dreams and ambitions were to be vocalised to your peers, they may find you egotistical or someone to watch out for. You are a BIG dreamer. It’s giving Azula. I think Pluto 11H natives learn to keep their ideas to themselves if they want to be successful.

Natives with Aphrodite (1388) in 1st house, when describing you people may argue on the appearance or how you may present yourself as, or who they believe you are, alike to when the men witnessed Aphrodite in mythology, they would say “she had beautiful blonde hair and a soft voice” and another man would scream at him and say “nay, she was a red haired bold aggressive woman who goes for what she wants” this is because the men see what they want to see in her, they see their ideal beauty, but can both identify it’s the same person. When they see her in person at the same time they will only see what they think she is and will not be able to see her for herself. Could indicate in your reputation, you are idolised like Aphrodite but only being liked for your beauty/the persona they project on you.

Saturn 3rd house can make you have siblings that whip you up into shape, being a catalyst or aid to your best self, whether in a harsh way or a progressive way it depends on the sign. E.g Billie Eilish has this placement and her brother Finneas is a key aid to her success today by being the one who writes her music, and Kylie Jenner has this in Aries but her sister Kendall was her competition, worst critic, extremely condescending and critical of her body, her image, her skills even making fun of her for having lip injections in interviews etc which forced Kylie to feel insecure changing everything about herself but lead her to the popularity she has today.

Scorpio Mars isn’t a fun placement either, so many say that these natives are blessed, after all, Mars is in rulership, it gives them will power, survival instinct and makes them a shark. But people don’t discuss how being a Scorpio Mars can make you hurt others further than intended, it’s like tactically pulling the jenga block excited for your opponents next go but instead- you make the entire tower fall on your their face, they hurt themselves crying and the game ends bitterly. You won but at what cost? You can overestimate what people can take, and inevitably your loved ones may become the sorry victim of your sting. I think deep down Scorpio Mars natives know how much they hurt people and sometimes wish they weren’t so intense. I always think of Omni man from invincible having this placement.

Was working as an external motivational speaker for a school and this Gemini Sun teacher was so prim and proper, he’d sit crossing his legs and always be making sure students were extremely well behaved listening for anyone talking like this:

I’d say rather strict. He was timely, efficient hated tardiness and I knew he was a bloody mercurial with that prestige desk organisation and flick of fingers while typing (such sass),I thought he was a Virgo but, when I pried to get his birthday (which was very difficult as he was professional and loved etiquette). He was actually a Gemini Sun. Gemini suns you guys have the goofiest of smiles and energy but you can be scary to work under. It’s SO funny how differently Gemini suns treat those on the same authority standing as them compared to the ones they’re supposed to oversee. They’re like 👨‍⚖️🔎⏰ as a boss, but personally like: 🌸😃🌈 to their colleagues. You guys also have very snappy and sassy comebacks to disrespect it’s hilarious to watch outside looking in how you even come up with such remarks. I’ve also noticed you guys can be sucky and adoring towards your bosses, but strangely it works.

Capricorn MC, how does it feel to live my dream?? People with this placement are the most high earning, most dominant or the most respected and well known person in their field. Whether it be politics, modelling, office, technology, teaching, literally everything.. if you have Capricorn MC the way you handle your work is with an extreme amount of meticulous efforts. You go through the small print terms and conditions, execute the process with full clarity which is what makes you guys so successful. You don’t fuck around, Examples of people with this placement are Martin Luther King, David Beckham, Kendall Jenner, Rihanna, Mariah Carey, Heath Ledger, Nikola Tesla, Jeff Bezos, Alexander the Great. Notice how they’re all contenders for the title “Greatest of all time” in the fields they’re in. When they say that Saturns influence makes you established and remembered throughout history, it’s true. With Capricorn MC, you’re probably the first to set a record in the work you do and will be remembered as one of the foundations of the future.

I don’t want to reinforce stereotypes about Pisces moon. However, I’ve noticed that you really shouldn’t jokingly insult these guys. I think it’s because of their inclination to read between the lines and the underlying meaning of words that are said. They really don’t take criticism very well because they pick up the hidden meanings, e.g I once lived with one and he jokingly told me he’s going to lock me out of his room so that I don’t rob him and then I asked in all seriousness“why would I rob you?” And he was hurt and explained it’s because my question suggested that i thought he didn’t have nice clothes. (Which is true, im not interested in menswear nor his style). Perhaps this is a me thing though because im rather forthright with what I say. Maybe Pisces moons aren’t so sensitive, maybe we’re just cruel to them.

Also these natives are incredibly intelligent in terms of understanding emotions. I’ve noticed that they can easily grasp why certain people do certain things which is what makes them known to be “empathetic or forgiving” but it’s really because the concept of deep and complex emotions isn’t difficult for them to grasp. They’re like the Einsteins of human nature. And when I speak of empathy, that doesn’t mean they they can do no wrong, that’s a common misconception about Pisces moon, there are bad people within every placement but strangely Pisces moons if they are “bad” end up being forgiven for it because they garner sympathy from others. E.g Kim Jong-un, Edgar Allen Poe, Kesha, Coco Chanel, Kendrick Lamar, Vanessa Hudgens, Hilary Clinton, Elvis Presley, Michael Jackson, Kanye West, Michelle Obama.

Fama (408) conjunct Mercury can indicate being well known for your ideas and thoughts, they can stand out or perhaps the way you communicate them does. You have an attractive mind that garners attention from many, people love to hear what you have to say, it’s like being lady wistledown from bridgerton. Ben Shapiro is an example of someone with this placement. He speaks very fast and is a famous conservative speaker engaging in debates with political royalty.

Ascendant conjunct Chiron forever being attacked for their appearance really saddens me. These natives can be treated normally but then once they do something that others don’t like, their appearance will be promptly targeted. E.g Margot Robbie (brutally called mid because male viewers didn’t appreciate her in the Barbie movie), Peter Dinklage (think he complained about dwarfism being represented in cinema but I can imagine he must have also grown up with a lot of unkind words), Priyanka Chopra (people coming for her when she married a Jonas brother), Selena Gomez (I don’t even know why but people attack her for her body apparently), Abraham Lincoln (this man wanted to free slaves I bet they made caricatures of him during the 1800s).

Venus in 10H, why is your relationship a Google search away. Everything we know about your love life is against our will. I know you love your partner but please. These natives can end up telling on themselves about the nature of their relationships. Examples: Jayda Smith (red table), Johnny Depp ( his released audio recordings), Billie Eilish (made a whole documentary about her relationship to her ex boyfriend) David Bowie (spoke pleasantly of his wife Iman any chance he got in many interviews), Kristen Stewart (cheating at award ceremonies).

Aries Mercury people are extremely motivational, they really know how to make others do something simply by their words, it can be for the bad or for the good E.g The rock (Dwayne Johnson) , Adolf Hitler, Albert Einstein, Queen Elizabeth II, Amber Heard, Mark Zuckerberg, Al Pacino, William Shakespeare. These natives can make an understaffed workforce win the battle because they remembered what you said, they’re usually quoted and the people with this placement can have really empowering but simple one liners that make you want to beat on your chest like King Kong and seize the day. Very influential and honestly the best people to have a pep talk from.

[tentacle-therapissed]

I’m so glad the Guillermo Del Toro Pinocchio movie is being received really well, because it was literally my most anticipated movie of the year! So here’s some fun facts about the crew, concept, and production that got me excited about this movie and that I think would excite much of tumblr as well:

-the screenplay was cowritten by Del Toro and Patrick McHale, creator of Over The Garden Wall and a writer on Adventure Time.

-the movie was codirected by Mark Gustasfon, who was the animation director of Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009)

-the primary art/animation designers of this movie (production designer Curt Enderle, art director Robert DeSue, character designer Georgina Hayns, animation supervisor Brian Leif Hansen, and photography director Frank Passingham) previously worked on projects that include Coraline, the Corpse Bride, Paranorman, Isle of Dogs, Frankenweenie, Kubo, and Chicken Run.

-Besides Netflix, it was produced by the Henson company (always a good sign when you’re doing anything with puppets) and ShadowMachine, who have produced a lot of Adult Swim shows including Robot Chicken, Moral Orel, and Tuca and Bertie, as well as the Netflix original BoJack Horseman.

-Del Toro was inspired to make this adaptation due to the similarities he’d always noticed between the original Pinocchio story and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Both are about a man-made character’s relationship with his father/creator, and his attempts to understand what it means to be human. This inspiration is why the film takes on a gothic feel at times.

-the movie is over 10 years in the making. Del Toro announced the project in 2008 and production began in 2012, but it went into development hell and no further updates were made for several years. Del Toro has described it as his passion project, saying "I've wanted to make this movie for as long as I can remember.”

-the backdrop of Mussolini’s Italy was intended to show how Pinnochio was able to find his own humanity and will in a time where everyone else was acting like a blindly obedient puppet. Del Toro wanted to deviate from the original book’s themes of obeying authority by making his Pinocchio virtuous for questioning the rules and forging his own set of morals. (Also if you know anything about Del Toro, the guy likes to dunk on fascism.)

-Del Toro didn’t feel the need to have Pinocchio become flesh-and-blood at the end of the movie, saying all you need to be a real human is to behave like one.

I was lucky enough to see this movie in 35 mm in a movie theatre on Thanksgiving weekend. If there are any movie theatre showings near you and you’re in a position to be able to attend them, I would totally recommend it especially if you can go with loved ones. It was a gorgeous, heartwarming, and magical movie to experience on a big screen and perfect for the late fall/winter holiday season.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had. 

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you. 

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.” 

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered. 

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.” 

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse. 

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!” 

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

���...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains. 

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest. 

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away. 

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you. 

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive. 

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours. 

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second. 

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds. 

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood. 

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through. 

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did. 

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming. 

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips. 

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest. 

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them. 

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas. 

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar. 

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too. 

Everything would be done if another city fell.  

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry. 

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down. 

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him. 

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another. 

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm. 

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike. 

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that. 

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do. 

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness. 

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up. 

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did. 

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears. 

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!” 

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock. 

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious. 

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream. 

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static. 

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead. 

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out. 

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t. 

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life. 

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.” 

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile? 

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky. 

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him. 

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression. 

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine. 

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact. 

Your face gains heat. 

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment. 

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow. 

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?” 

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began. 

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died. 

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar. 

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found. 

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.” 

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls. 

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.” 

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around. 

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more. 

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water. 

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering. 

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet. 

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important. 

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything. 

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course. 

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious. 

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years. 

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place. 

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet. 

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds. 

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?” 

You weren’t going to stop until you found it. 

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet. 

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him. 

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you. 

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.” 

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you. 

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard. 

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?” 

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it. 

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.” 

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.” 

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after. 

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question. 

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile. 

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building. 

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told. 

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood. 

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch. 

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago. 

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system. 

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real. 

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three. 

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices. 

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.” 

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible. 

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet. 

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?” 

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years. 

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?” 

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh. 

The man forces a weak huff. 

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you. 

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same. 

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you. 

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck. 

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?” 

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.” 

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you. 

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon. 

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[morganbritton132]

Eddie posts a Tiktok of an old home video with the caption “I AM THE MOST PATIENT MAN IN THE ENTIRE WORLD.”

The video was actually filmed in Gareth’s Mom’s garage after the band’s first world tour. In it, Gareth is filming Grant make shadow puppets while slightly off-camera, Steve and Eddie are having a conversation that they’re both too high to be having.

Grant is making his shadow dog’s mouth move along with Steve in the background like, “You want me to be someone’s boss? Like a capitalis- like my dad?? You wanna fuck my dad now, Eddie?”

Eddie, with the deepest sigh: Baby, I just think a service dog would be good for you. And you wouldn’t be its boss, you didn’t hire it

Steve: But it’s doing a job for me. It’s my employee then.

Eddie: You’re not paying him!

Steve: So, like a slave?!

Eddie: No. It’d be like… A service dog is like a friend. They help you out because they’re your friend. And dog is man’s best friend

Steve: Robin is my best friend!

Eddie: Oh my god

[gay-dorito-dust]

Will you do a scenario of how we’d meet Bill for the first time and what he would be like if you were sort of “friends”? 🙏

You were minding your business while walking through the woods of Gravity Falls, just needing a change of scenery and finding the woods to be the perfect place to do so with it’s mushrooms, flowers and the wildlife that crossed your path.

Everything was seemingly fine and not out of the ordinary until you started to feel like you were being watched from somewhere, you looked to see if you could spot anyone, but all you could see were birch trees that had markings on the bark that suspiciously looked like eyes. You were just about thinking of leaving until you heard a voice from somewhere.

‘Hey kiddo!’

You looked to the left, nothing

‘Other way kid.’

the to the right, nothing

‘Colder.’

Up? Nope, nothing.

‘You’re practically an human popsicle at this point.’

How about looking down? Still nothing. Now you were getting confused, scared and annoyed.

You heard the voice sigh and say ‘you’re starting to make me feel sad, here I’ll make this a little easier for you.’ Then before you could say anything, a small yellow triangle with one eye wearing a top hat and bow tie appeared before you.

‘It’s great to finally meet you y/n.’ It said and immediately you were freaked out.

‘Who are you and how did you know my name?’ You asked, uneasy.

‘The names Bill Cipher and I know lots of things, lots of things.’ Bill replied, shrugging. ‘Wanna see what I can do?’ He adds after a brief pause but before you could answer him, he held his hand out to a nearby deer as its teeth were taken out of its mouth and into his small hand in a neat pile. ‘Deer teeth for you kid hehe.’ He then chuckled as he dumped the pile of deer teeth into your hands.

You on the other hand didn’t find this funny and fought the urge to vomit as you offered Bill the deer teeth back. ‘Mind giving the deer its teeth back? I’m sure it has more use for them than either of us.’ You ask as Bill did as you asked and gave the deer its teeth back as it galloped off elsewhere, leaving you alone with the weird triangle in the woods. Everything that had happened within the past five minutes had been overwhelming for you, too overwhelming that you had to sit yourself down on the trunk of a fallen tree and put your head in your hands, muttering to yourself.

‘This isn’t real, this is all some weird fever dream or I’m tripping balls. There’s no other explanation.’

Bill only chuckled as he floated next to you and patted you on the shoulder. ‘There, there human I can reassure you that what you just saw was very much real.’

You looked at him from your hands, unamused. ‘You fucking suck at comforting people you know that?’

‘I think we’ll get along great!’ Bill chirped gleefully.

‘We absolutely will not.’ You replied but you had an inkling that your opinion on the matter didn’t matter.

Now onto how bill would be if you were sort of ‘friends.’

He’s got a weird way about showing his feelings in any capacity.

The little shit put rats, dead rats outside your door, spelling out your name on random ass occasions that made it look like to others that a) you were haunted or b) had a weird stalker who liked to form your name out of dead rats.

He doesn’t want you having friends outside of him because and I quote ‘I’m the only friend you need, why bother with anyone else. So don’t even try cuz I’ll be watching you.’

Will leave sticky post it notes anywhere and everywhere saying to get more silly straws or else he’ll find a way to possess you and make you do embarrassing shit. Ie: walk through town in your underwear, make you speak backwards, kick a child-

Bill was a brat and his pranks were often traumatic but apparently they were ‘light’ in comparison to the stuff he did to his other meat puppets. You didn’t ask any further questions about what he meant by that in fear that he’d show you one as an example.

You are probably the only person who bill has told about his secret technique with mascara and eyeliner, even seeing him do it once when he insisted that you had a ‘sleepover’ at your place. He even points the mascara brush at you warningly as he threatened that you were to never tell people about this or else.

His version of jealousy when he sees you spending time with others is to trash your house and try to act cute when you catch him in the act. You don’t fall for this and give Bill the silent treatment for the rest of the day as he practically lost his shit over your lack of attention.

Probably air horned you awake once.

Bill Wouldn’t tell you this but he make your enemies do stupid shit that resulted in their deaths, for fun he claims but he didn’t want his favourite meat sack to start leaking water from their eyes every time something went wrong in their life. So he just cuts them out in the most brutal way possible.

Bill was stuck to you like glue and there’s was no way to hide from him as he would ultimately appears where you are, even if you’re in the fucking shower, he don’t care.

Bill: *appears in shower* my favourite meat sack have you- stop screaming it’s only me, have you seen a king cobra anywhere, I must’ve dropped it somewhere here-

He probably once threatened you with the whole ‘steal your eyes’ thing like he did with Ford but you had witness enough of Bill’s behaviour to know that he was joking about that, to which he was proud and would magically make a cake filled with worms, bugs and other unpleasant things appear in celebration.

You may or may not have been sick that day.

Your and Bills friendship was weird, probably not the healthiest in all honestly and you should seek help and or maybe therapy for the shit he’s out you through.

You were his property, you were his pet, HIS MEAT SACK and you wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without him knowing and or being nearby in hopes of catching your eye.

Just a yellow triangle with one eye and a top hat and bow tie floating ominously in the background was enough to unnerve anyone.

You had no freedom as far as you were concerned in this ‘friendship’ but bill likes to claim that he has given you the most freedom out of anyone who has ever existed.

[rqbossman]

Hi Alex, saw the livestream got cancelled, hope you’re doing ok!

I was wondering- did you and Jonny meet in a civil service job, or private sector? Because there’s a lot in protocol that’s very accurate. (Just started a CS job). Of course this could just be your sterling research skills, but even in archives I wondered if there was direct experience informing the fiction. Though, theres a lot of overlap in dumb jargon for private and CS. I will absolutely punch a hole in my computer if Lena tells Gwen she has to engage in agile thinking 😒

thanks for your time 🙂

So the O.I.A.R. is entirely based on the jobs that Jonny and I held when we first met. It was private sector but all of it, the weird job interview, the ancient computers, the unnecessary night work, even the location of the offices is all pretty damn accurate. The only difference is that what we had to summarise, whilst still horrifying, was much more late-stage capitalism horror stories than murderous puppets or whatever. In terms of civil service stuff, I do my research and know plenty of people who work there. Weirdly enough I suppose that means that if I was Sam (since I joined later) and Jonny was Alice (in that he was weirdly acclimatised already) that would mean that Sam and Alice both quit to make horror podcasts about their time at... oh god. I've gone all recursive.