#I do shit for you ALL THE TIME ! we BOTH DO ! But I don't think it's cool throw those things in your face to win an argument

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[olderthannetfic]

Ok. Dumb question incoming, but I'd much have a 'conversation' than try to read fanlore or watch video essays or something because I want to hear individual people's contributions.

Why Star Trek?

Don't get me wrong - I like the franchise! I'm not super duper familiar with it, but I do enjoy the bits and pieces that I do know. But I am wondering why that in particular is hailed as the grandmother of all fandoms? Obviously people were fannish before Trek, but I don't think anyone can deny the impact that OG Trekkies had on fic, zines, and eventually on the internet.

I know that it's always been popular and well-liked, but it's not as if there was NO SUCH THING as popular culture/fan culture before that (I mean, come on, the term "parasocial" predates the first Star Trek episode by 10 years!) . Was it just a perfect mix of timing + popularity + etc? Is there something in particular about ST that "hit different" than other series at the time? Or is the fandom really really just that mighty and it's almost "luck" in a way? I guess I'm wondering what particular dominoes cascaded in a line in order for Star Trek to have the impact on fandom that it does today.

or am I wrong? were there just-as-big fandoms before and I simply overhype Trekkie power in my head / happen to see more talk of that than I do of other fandoms? It could definitely be a social circle bias thing.

Ugh. Asking OTNF why Star Trek is so important to fandom history feels very much like asking a Russian History major why War & Peace is so important to literature - hence why I warned you that it'd be a dumb question! But I am just so damn curious what sort of crack was in early ST fandom that made it SO widespread and SO strong.

Like, I guess the TLDR is: what was particularly 'different' about Star Trek, either as a fandom or as a franchise or both, that made it Theeeeee OG fandom, rather than something, like, i dunno, LOTR or the earliest versions of Marvel/DC comics or General Hospital or something else like that?

--

I await the hordes of angry Man from U.N.C.L.E. fans eager to prove that they were first.

And, no, it wasn't that popular. Hence the aggressive Save Our Show campaign and explosion of fan culture when it ended after three seasons.

Part of the answer to your question is that there were like three things on TV at the time. What big fandoms? 'Parasocial' was about non-subculture people feeling warmly towards news anchors or hosts of variety shows or something, wasn't it?

LOTR got rediscovered in the 60s or 70s from what I hear, but science fiction and fantasy books were for fringe weirdoes. SFF was not mainstream for the most part. There are a bunch of History of Book SF Fandom things on Youtube, and you should consult them on the complex role of LOTR in that space. LOTR wasn't a mainstream thing until there were live action movies a billion years later.

The key about Star Trek is that it was a hit with the pre-existing book SF crowd. They were an organized subculture. Some of their favorite writers wrote episodes. Other shit on TV was for people who did not form subcultures in that way. Other shit for SF fans had an audience 1/10,00th the size.

MFU was insanely popular. Illya Kuryakin was the heartthrob of a certain era of girl and inspired many a Russian major. (Seriously, there are soooo many Russia-boos of a certain age who probably still have a poster of him somewhere.) The actor set a record for fanmail. The show may have more influence on fandom history than we think now, but it also didn't rerun the way Trek did, at least in some eras, and it didn't have sequel series in a franchise. I'm always finding 2015 movie fans shocked that there's a still extant and semi-active fandom—or even shocked that the movie is based on something.

Starsky & Hutch was also hugely important and is the moment slash fandom and "Media Fandom" really split from book SF fandom. As Trek fans moved on to buddy cops, they were into a completely mainstream show but in a non-mainstream way. Trek was an awkward bedfellow at SF cons, but S&H just didn't fit at all.

Of course, while Trek is the grandma of AO3 type fandom, don't forget that a shitton of modern fans who are doing "research" just look at the same few sources. Enterprising Women is great and all, but even other fans of the same stuff are like "Oh, that was just X's friends. Where's [thing] and [thing] and [thing]?" Ditto Textual Poachers and the other scant early sources that people think have academic weight.

While Trek would still be central, the picture of what was going on in the late 60s-early 80s would look a bit different if you just found a bunch of 70-something nerds and asked them than if you regurgitate other people's research, you know?

If you want an idea of what else was going on in SF fandom back in the day, check out Galactic Journey, where they roleplay that it's 55 years ago and review SF things "as they come out".

If you want to understand MFU, here's a vid of Illya:

--

What say you, readers?

What have acafandom and fandom history and meta left out?

[peppermintquartz]

I'm feeling bitchily critical today so. Let's get critical.

Reasons why Season 8 of 911 (so far) sucks:

Bobby and Athena are aimless

They have no house. The logical development is for them to look for one, one for their future. That is theirs. Where are the house hunting woes? The disageeements and compromises? Are they ever going to have a chance to find a place they both love? Or build one, even?

Athena's job description is all over the place

She's giving school talks. She's conducting traffic stops. She's escorting a prisoner across state lines. She is mentoring new officers. She's a goddamn Sergeant but what is her job scope? Every single thing requiring the presence of police, apparently!

Hen and Karen have little direction for growth

The Mara adoption issue could have brought out more of their relationship, developed them in terms of relying on each other through a difficult time. The storyline with Ortiz could have really delved into the struggles of the foster care system, and how Hen and Karen broke rules designed to protect the kids. (Seriously, if a child is removed from a foster family, it's logical not allowing the foster parents to meet the child that was removed for the safety of the child). Where was the appeal to Ortiz as a mother? Where was the struggle? Where is the tension between the Wilsons and the Hans? Instead there was a Deux Ex Gerrard. And I am not even gonna start on the whole "why didn't you take leave for Halloween" shit, that stuff should have been settled when Denny was a baby. What are their next steps? Same old same old?

Gerrard is a joke

An established bigot and racist returns. He could have been a great way to show how the 118 has grown beyond him and his bullying. Instead they're cowed by him, and lets him yell at Buck? Whatever happened to the "who cares" courage in Season 7? And he gets the reward of his dream job?

Eddie is still not healed

He emotionally cheated on his girlfriend with his dead wife's doppelganger. Has he even processed what that actually means? No! His son moved to Texas. Has he coped with the loneliness in his house? Who knows? Certainly not the audience, since we don't see him go to therapy or, hell, have a full breakdown! He confides in people who aren't his friends, let alone his so-called best friend! Bobby gave him a prayer book but we don't even hear Eddie rage at a God who keeps putting devastation and challenges in his way. What wa the point of the prayer book then? He just danced in his underwear and somehow that made him smile and now he's moving across the country and, what, giving up on his home and his job? Is that really healing, Edmundo Díaz? Or are you just running from the problem again?

Chimney has no internal or external motivation

He was providing for Mara for a few months. Was he stressed about it? Did he think about seeking a promotion for a higher salary? Also, he is an immigrant. Does that influence how he teaches Jee? Has he and Maddie, white suburban raised Maddie, ever discussed the potential problems Jee might face? Or whether they wanna include some Korean culture in Jee's education, since they gave her a Korean name? Does he ever think about any of these issues? Is he at all conflicted? What does Chimney want?

Maddie

She was the one who wanted to meet Tommy. Has she done so outside of the wedding? What was her opinion of him? Is Maddie content to stay in Dispatch in the exact same position? Has she any career ambition? And about Jee: does she never think about the Korean part of Jee? Connecting to her own culture? Learning Korean, maybe? That would have been interesting because perhaps she wants her daughter to connect to that part of her roots but Chimney doesn't, for his own reasons. Also, if she wants to have a second kid, why didn't she discuss it with Chimney outright before the pregnancy? Was she not taking the pill? Were they careless again? What would she do if Chimney didn't want a second child? Abort? Given how the first pregnancy was traumatic for the whole family, including her brother, this development is showing her to be pretty self-centered, frankly. I don't know this Maddie. She's not the same one that gave Buck her Jeep to escape, knowing that she'll be hurt by an abusive husband.

Brad

Why is airtime devoted to a character that is barely connected to the 118? What is the reason behind giving him so much focus? Is he supposed to quit acting and become a firefighter or something? What is the rationale for his existence?

.

.

And I haven't even touched on Buck or Tommy.

[scimagic]

So, darling, if you smell something burning, it's my heart.

To all the very nice comments about Puzzles and I's dynamic (which I appreciate very very much I love you!!), I bring you: the gift of more!!

This is incredibly self-indulgent so bare with me fhdsjka but I kept thinking of this particular trope and how it fits the narrative of Puzzles' horrible actions

I personally adore seeing Mr Puzzles do fucked up shit, I love how evil he is, and I thought 'wouldn't it be hot funny to see him covered in the blood of his crimes'. Then one thing led to another and I realized the same could be applied to Puzzles and the Siren (my big creature form!)

Both indulge in the affection and comfort the other brings despite all the warning signs and just how bloody their hands are. They don't particularly care of said blood smearing their body. So long their partner gives them their unconditional love, they will look past the red to embrace all of them.

I'm sure when you all say dynamic you mean the banter and the silly shenanigans we come up with, but to add to that dynamics list there is that deep infatuation with each other that adores both their redemption and their crimes, their best and their worst, and may even indulge in their worst parts a little too much because— c'mon— who doesn't like to see the love of their life batshit insane and in a murderous rampage from time to time?

[starkeysbunny]

Omg I started reading your fics and I fell in love😭

I wanted to request a Rafe x reader (angst) where like she's Kiara older sister but she dies instead of JJ, and its all angst and something like that 🥲

(its okay if you don't want to write this!💋)

Love you!!! 💓

𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 [𝗿𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗻]

first request yay !! i’m new to writing on tumblr, so here’s my first one! excited to do more <33

pairing - rafe x pogue!carrera!reader

warnings - angst, hurt, sad asf, reliving jj’s death but plot twist it’s you this time, cursing, death

summary - ask above ↑ you’re kiara’s older sister. (rafe’s age gap to sarah is what i imagined!). when you’re in morocco on a dangerous trip to help your friend jj get answers, everything goes terribly wrong. in a last stitch effort to save your best friend and sister, you end up clinging for life in your boyfriend’s arms with your friends beside you.

i can’t see anything. my arm covers over my eyes as dust blows in every direction. the hot air coats my skin covered by cloth.

“rafe!” i shout, trying to see, trying to find him. he ran off with john b and sarah. and now, i couldn’t find him.

that’s when i see my sister, and jj.

i stand back, dodging behind a wall so groff wouldn’t see me. my hand covers my mouth in shock as i see groff holding a knife to my sisters neck. “shit.” i mutter.

“give me the crown, and you can have the girl.” groff says, sticking his arm out gingerly, while holding kiara close to his chest.

“okay, okay, you can have it. just give me kiara.” jj says, raising his hands in defense.

i try to watch through the dusty sandstorm as jj reluctantly and carefully trades the crown for kiara. they both switch hands at the same time, kiara collapsing in jj’s arms.

groff holds the crown to his chest, a sick smirk on his face. his eyes flick to the knife in his hand, then back at jj.

no. no. no.

before i can even think, my feet are moving before my mind could. through the blazing heat and thick sand storm, i move blindly. going in the direction of kie and jj, i slot myself between jj and groff.

i gasp, my hand coming to my stomach. my eyes are locked onto groff’s and he raises his eyes in surprise.

“y/n!” i hear the desperate pleas of my sister fade into blurry obscurity. i couldn’t recount every moment after that. it was all a blur of pain.

my breathing is heavy, but fast. kiara had propped me up against a weak wooden pillar.

“y/n! it’s gonna—gonna be okay? okay?” kie says, her voice shaking. i could barely hear her over the roaring winds around us. jj was kneeling next to kie in front of me. he wasn’t saying a word. he was in shock, staring at the blood beginning to stain the moroccan cloth clothing cleo stole for all of us.

the blood that was supposed to coming from his own abdomen, was now instead, on his hands. i furrow my eyebrows at him, silently pleading for him to not feel guilty. i shake my head.

“it’s okay.” i whisper weakly.

jj’s eyes were full of guilt, regret, and anger. this would kill him. the survivors guilt. and i knew kiara would be fueled by anger and revenge.

after everything we went through on this trip, to get here. to save jj’s family legacy. to get him answers. and to save what was rightfully ours on kildare, the surf shop.

instead of leaving in riches, smiles on our faces—i would never leave. and my friends would all leave with vengeance in their hearts, and no place to go home to.

as i think about my friends, all the pogues—my mind goes to my boyfriend. the one kook with us. and suddenly, my heart is ripped in two.

my eyes immediately meet jj’s. weakly, i plead. “find rafe. please.”

jj nods firmly without a second’s thought. he stands, pulling the bandana over his nose and finding rafe.

“kie.” i whisper, my voice weak as my lip quivers. i look at my sister who’s hands were pressing harshly against my stomach, trying to stop the bleeding.

“no, no it’s fine—you’re fine!” she exclaims as tears violently and rapidly soar down her cheeks.

“hey.” i say, getting her attention.

finally, her glassy eyes move from my stomach to my face, a sob escaping her lips.

“i love you, kie, okay?” i sniffle. “save a seat for me at the maybank wedding, hm?” i tease with a weak chuckle.

“shut up.” she says through gritted teeth, hot tears never stopping. “i won’t have to. cause you’ll be there. cause you’re my sister-you-you’re supposed to be there.”

“okay.” i whisper with a weak nod.

she presses her lips together, closing her eyes. she hears the agreement and compromise in my single word response because, i didn’t want to argue. even if it was a stupid, little argument about her adamance of my survival. my last moments with my sister couldn’t be ended in trivial bicker.

“i love you too.” she whispers.

“y/n?!”

i look up, seeing rafe rushing toward us with an urgency i’ve never noticed him have before. jj trailed behind, john b, sarah, cleo, and pope following suit.

“baby.” rafe whispers. he kneels next to me, moving my body slightly so my back laid against his chest. kie still knelt in front of me, her hands holding pressure on my stomach.

i tilt my head back slightly as i look up at rafe. “hi.” i whisper weakly.

he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, shaking his head. “no. no, no, you’re not goin’ anywhere, alright? we-we’ve talked about this. you can’t go before i do.”

“tell that to groff.” i wince, groaning as i lean against him. “fuck.” i mutter in pain.

“i’m gonna fuckin’ kill that bitch.” rafe spits. i look up at him, and see tears falling down his cheeks.

my hand weakly reaches up, pulling down the bandana from his nose. “hey.” i whisper softly, my touch gentle as my thumb wipes his tears. “i’m gonna be fine.”

my eyes dart down at my sister. “right, kie?”

her lip quivers violently, she presses harder against my stomach. then, her eyes look up at rafe.

even though my sister and all of my friends hate rafe—they understand. they see how much he cares about me. ever since we started dating, parts of them had grown slightly tolerant to him. because when he’s around me, he’s a little nicer. a little sweeter.

and they know that even if they don’t trust him, i do. and rafe has shown it time and time again. that he cares about me. for real.

“yeah, rafe.” she whispers, her voice shaking. “she’s gonna be fine.” kie says, but i don’t even think she believes the words anymore.

“y/n…” john b says, his lips gaping open. sarah stood beside him, her hand covering her mouth. “oh-oh my god.”

“no, no.” rafe snaps. “don’t say that!” his voice is firm and sharp. “she’s gone be fine! go get help don’t just stand there and gasp—“

“hey, hey.” i say softly, my hand brushing against his cheek. “stop.” i whisper.

john b nods. “no, he’s right. we-we’ll go find help.” john b grabs sarah’s hand as they run off, searching for help. pope looks back reluctantly, but i nod at him. both him and cleo follow to find help. but there was no one for miles. we were screwed.

“you can’t leave me, alright?” rafe gasps, his voice breaking. “everyone else in my life, they always fuckin’ screw me over. yo-you’re the only one i can trust.”

his lip quivers and he leans down, pressing open mouthed kisses to my forehead. “please, baby. you’re all i have, y-you’re everything. c’mon, you-you remember, right?” he sniffles, pulling back and looking down at me.

my eyebrows furrow as i look up at him weakly, letting him continue.

“we gotta buy that house. t-the white one, with the blue shutters on the marsh.” he sniffles. “and you can get all the fuckin’ cats, dogs, bunnies, whatever you want—“

i chuckle softly, clutching my stomach from the pain the laugh causes. rafe and i had been together for about eight months. we’ve talked about moving in together. and there’s this house, on the marsh on figure eight. my dream house. rafe and i always would talk about it and make up scenarios of our future together.

one of them, involved him and i in the backyard of the house as i tend to our many pets. he groaned in annoyance the first time i mentioned it. but, i guess he secretly loved it. he’d do anything for me. anything i wanted, he’d make sure i had it.

“yeah, baby. all the pets. a-and then, i gotta make you mrs. cameron. okay? s-so don’t even think about leavin’ alright? we have so much more-more to do, please.” he begs through shallow cries and gasps.

“okay.” my eyes slowly blink up at him. i weakly bring my hand up, sticking out my pinky. “we’ll have the house, all the pets, and i’ll be mrs. cameron. pinky promise.”

he presses his lips together as a particularly rough sob threatens to escape. his hand comes to mine, his pinky latching on. “pinky promise.” he whispers.

i smile softly at him, then slowly turn my head to kie. “i love you.” i whisper to her.

she nods firmly. “i know. i love you too.”

then, my eyes turn to jj. “it’s not your fault.” i weakly whisper. “thank you, j. for being my best friend. you’re really good at that.” my voice breaks. “p4l?” i chuckle softly.

jj smiles as tears fall down his cheeks. “p4l.” he repeats.

“and, if you break my sisters heart—i’ll haunt you or some shit.” i weakly chuckle. jj grins, a laugh slipping from his lips. his hand comes up, rough knuckles wiping at his tears, he nods. “got it.” he whispers.

i look back up at rafe, leaning further into him, my hand coming up to rest against his chest. “i love you.”

“i know. i love you more. i got you.” he whispers, his voice a ghost now from how low and shaken it is. he presses a kiss to my hair, holding me impossibly close.

i didn’t want to die. but, as my body grew weak, my eyes wanted to close. i just wanted to go to sleep. and part of me hoped that, if i went to sleep, i’d wake up in a few hours magically, in a hospital bed.

maybe john b, sarah, pope, and cleo found help. maybe it’ll be okay.

but if not, i’m okay with that too. i got to go with my favorite people. kiara, my sister. jj, my best friend. and rafe, the love of my life.

as my eyes begin to flutter shut, i take in rafe’s features one last time. my gaze brushes over his blue eyes, the curve of his nose. down to the shadow of his cheekbones, and the purse of his lips that i had gotten the luck to kiss so many times.

i said everything i could’ve possibly wanted to say. i got to die, with the people i loved most in the world. i was okay.

and hopefully, in a few hours, i’d wake up. and get to live a long life with all of them.

but for now, i was going to sleep.

—

damn yall that was sad asf. making me relive jj’s death 😞 hope u enjoyed !! thx for the request lovies !! <3

[bringbackmaes14]

It's fine; you just have to understand that friendships between people in different age groups don't and can't necessarily work the same as friendships between people in the same age group.

I'm not even kidding when I say that when I was a kid/teenager two of my best friends were the grocery bagger at my local supermarket, Mr. David, who was in his mid 50s, and Mr. Theodore, an usher at my church, who was in his mid 70s. I was bullied and ostracized in my own age group, so I didn't have a lot of friends my own age. But I saw these two old guys a couple times a week. Mr. David had met my mom when she was pregnant with me so he'd been around my whole life and watched me grow. And we'd been going to the church where Mr. Theodore was an usher and since I was 3 years old.

And the thing was, it wasn't a friendship where I could invite these old guys over for sleepovers or to play tag or to watch SpongeBob, and they didn't talk about politics or playing golf or retirement plans with me. But when I saw them, I'd get a great big bear hug and a "how ya doin, kiddo?" They'd ask me how school was and I'd ask them how things were at the grocery store or the church. They'd ask me how my siblings were doing, and I'd ask Mr. David about his nieces and Mr. Theodore about his grandkids. I had a secret handshake with both of them (that now that I think about it might've been the same handshake for both of them but they didn't know each other so it was fine). We'd tell each other jokes. We'd make promises to see each other again when my parents eventually dragged me off to the next errand or sunday school class.

And those were good friendships! Not every good friendship has to include tons of quality time and numerous shared interests. I'm sure tons of us have friends now, even in our own age group, where we text them or see them once every six months, catch up for a few hours, and then we don't hear from them from a long time, and that's just how the cycle goes, but you still consider that spotty cycle a friendship!

And I'll also say: I'll never forget how devastated I was when I found out Mr. David had died in an accident. I remember going to the grocery store when I was 13 and asking a manager where he was because I hadn't seen him for a while, and the manager pulled my mom and I aside and said "Sweetie I'm so sorry. I know you and Mr. David were very close, but he died in a car accident three weeks ago." That was the first major death in my life. I'll never forget how furious I was when I told teachers and therapists that my best friend had died in an accident, and when I explained that my best friend had been an "old" man named Mr. David, I was told children couldn't be best friends with old men. I still tell people to this day that Mr. David was my first best friend.

I know now that there are definitely more fulfilling ways to have friendships than the friendships I had with Mr. David and Mr. Theodore (Mr. Theodore is still alive to my knowledge, I just don't live in that state anymore), but I don't regret the friendships I had with them at all, in fact I'm very very grateful for them.

My mom was constantly stressed but very much doing her best to raise me and my 3 siblings, and my dad was around but he was an abusive piece of shit. I'd had a boatload of disrespectful and downright demeaning therapists, and 9 times out of 10 the teachers I had either brushed me off entirely or loved me right up until they didn't. Suffice to say my view of adulthood was pretty shitty.

But these two old guys were there to remind me adults can be kind, to kids and adults and everyone in between! And adults can be silly! And adults can hug people just because they're happy to see them. And adults can have fun. And adults can love- their parents, their children, their spouses, their neighbors, their coworkers, their friends, a stranger walking by who just needs a smile.

Think about all the lessons kids and teens could learn from adult friends.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[beanarie]

of course 3/3

1/3

2/3

in which tommy finally admits he should maybe see a therapist.

thanks again to @mooshkat for the original concept

(tw: heart problems, hospitalization, self loathing)

~

Bobby is the next to show up.

"Hi," he says, disconcertingly tall as he stands over Tommy's bed with a small tupperware. "I figured you can't have anything we would normally bring for someone stuck here, but there's this recipe I liked after my heart attack. It's just chickpeas tossed with olive oil and a bit of curry powder."

"That's very thoughtful," Tommy says, touched and confused. He starts tucking in immediately. The food here could be worse, but he never has much appetite when he's unwell. Maybe eating something will make the nurses frown less often. They're very frowny in this unit. Makes sense, as they probably have the highest proportion of deaths in the building, but it's shit for patient morale.

Bobby's still standing, so Tommy tilts his head at the chair and continues eating.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, once Tommy has left the now half-empty container on his tray table.

"Fine? Tired, mostly." Which is probably for the best when he's only allowed on his feet for a few minutes a day. All the napping doesn't leave time to develop cabin fever. "You?"

"I'm good. A little concerned."

Shit. So he's just jumping right in. Tommy works on his breathing. "Oh?"

Bobby nods. "Buck is getting released in the next few hours. He'll probably be up here as soon as they hand over the discharge summary."

Tommy doesn't eye the monitors, but he has a brief fantasy about ripping the leads out and smashing everything on the ground. It's been a long time since he's felt this exposed for this long. "That's good."

Bobby puts his hands on the armrests of the chair. "Hen seems to think you don't want to see him, which is interesting since Buck is behaving like you're pretty much back together."

Keep him away. Do it so I don't have to see his face. "I- I'm-"

Bobby looks at him like he's a spooked horse. "I'm not just here for him, okay? I wanna help you get clarity on what you're actually looking for before it blows up in both your faces again."

It's such a brazen offer Tommy can't help but laugh. "You're welcome to try?"

Bobby smiles a little. "Kid's got a heart the size of Alaska, but he's like the La Brea tar pits. Once you're in, that's all she wrote. It's fine, though, great even. If that's your choice."

Tommy tilts his head, reconciling this man with the friendly, new in town captain who had a veil behind his eyes. In the last eight years, everyone at the 118 figured out how to open a vein for each other, and here's Tommy. Out, flying, and only able to meet his own eyes in the mirror half the time. "What if I'm a bomb," he asks. "Or... whatever destroys tar."

"You wanna stay that way?" Bobby presses gently.

Tommy rubs at the side of his neck. "I'd be a monster and an idiot if I said yes, wouldn't I?"

Bobby spreads his hands. "There's no relationship jail, Tommy. Doesn't matter to me if you're either or both those things. All I ask is that you keep it away from people I care about."

"No. It's-" Tommy shifts his gaze, his vision blurring. "It's not who I want to be. But it's not that easy, Bobby."

"Didn't say easy. Didn't even imply it." Bobby moves a box of tissues from the nightstand to the tray table. "You're no stranger to tackling something hard because you thought it would be worth the effort. Maybe give yourself a little credit."

There are oval-shaped bruises in a roughly circular pattern on Evan's forearm, resembling a school of fish. Those weren't there after the crash. Tommy flexes his right hand, which has been stiff and sore for no apparent reason. "I did that," he says.

"Yeah?" Evan frowns in confusion. "You were suffocating. It wasn't on purpose."

It can be an omen if Tommy lets it.

"Tommy?" Evan says.

Omens are stupid. "Hm?"

Evan fidgets with his free hand, pulling at the edge of his sling. "You said of course you love me, like it was easy. Like it was a given. People don't- haven't said it like that."

"How did they say it?"

"Like they were surprised. Like it was the last thing they could've expected."

"I knew it was a possibility the first time I kissed you," Tommy says, tired of choosing between truths.

He looks up. "You did?"

"Evan," Tommy sighs, "you're the fucking sun."

His beautiful eyes widen and get wet at the corners. "I didn't want to say it when- when you were dying in my arms. I wanted- needed to believe that I'd get another chance. But I love you, too."

Tommy is so grateful this conversation is taking place today, when he's recovered enough to not cause an international incident every time he does anything more stressful than looking at the color green. The specter of the alarm still looms, but he's done okay so far. "I might not have heard you, if you had said it then." Tommy gestures at his chest. "The wheezing, it was very loud."

"You heard some things, though? It felt like you- you were reacting."

"Yes, Evan. You kept me going."

Evan beams. Tommy aches from the inside like someone sprinkled salt in his IV bag.

"I need," he warns, "so much therapy."

Evan shifts forward in his seat, grunting softly in pain. "I can get you some recommendations."

"Of course you can." Tommy smiles.

Evan is inches away, practically falling out of the chair. "Can I touch you?"

"Do you have the slightest idea how many medications I'm on right now?"

He ducks his head and laughs. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Oh, well, show me what you m-"

Evan lays his free hand on the side of Tommy's face. He leans forward and presses their foreheads together. "I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "I asked you not to run, and you stayed."

Right after the alarm goes off, Tommy pulls away just far enough to capture Evan's mouth with his own.

[hai7ani]

Haitani Rindou, Me and My Girlfriend Tokyo Revengers' Ending Special

Your birthday is cold. The wind is big and your jacket is not doing its job good enough. Orangey leaves fall from the trees and they land on your heads. Sweet potatoes have never tasted so sweet before, but he thinks your smile is sweeter.

Tokyo has been getting pretty cold these days, but Rindou is always warm.

"It's soooo cold." You hide your face into his much thicker jacket and mewl like a sweet little kitten seeking for warmth. He reels your body in closer to wrap his arms around your figure, tight. "Told'cha to wear the other jacket." He sways you both around lightly. Your paper bag from Chrome Hearts is heavy and he grabs it off your fingers.

"But I wanted to wear this one for today. You got it for me." You sneak a peek from his chest to look at his face. He rolls his eyes in faux annoyance as you smile cheekily.

Draken is not happy with what he's seeing.

"What the hell? Did this guy just skip the gang meeting to date? That's some lame shit." He clicks his tongue, irritated. A thick vein bulges from his forehead and he starts stomping towards you both, who're standing under a tree all cuddled up together and so, so cozy 一 it's such an eye-sore.

Emma stops him before he can get any closer. "Oh, leave them alone, would you? Let them date in peace. Haitani Ran attended the meeting anyway!" She scolds, hands on her hips. Senju drags along Hinata with sparkly eyes and a wide-open mouth. "Ehhh? She's so pretty! They look so good together."

"Hah? Ya tellin' me four eyes' got a girlfriend?!" Hakkai's strikingly blue eyes almost falls out of his sockets as he witness the scene before him: you're stepping on your tippy toes to place a smooch on Rindou's cheek sweetly, and he's actually smiling like a damn fool. Sanzu only snarls 一 a common reaction for a guy who's just broken up with his girlfriend, while Hanma is busy smirking as he lights up a cigarette. "He's got some balls showing up here all lovey-dovey." ...He'd just broken up with his girlfriend, too.

Mitsuya snickers, "they've been together for a very long time already, I'm surprised you lot just found out about this," while Souya and Nahoya seem normal about it. "Do you guys not follow his SoundCloud? He makes a lot of songs for her. He shared his link with us willingly, too."

Chifuyu pitches in. "Last week they visited the pet shop to get some cat supplies, and he pretended not to know me with his nose up high, but he made me give him a staff discount while she was busy playing with Peke J. Evil person, I say." Baji smacks the back of his head, "that's just you, dude. He said hi to me and Kazutora." The said man raises his hand as a confirmation.

Inui's face does not change. "Draken wasn't around so he doesn't know, but they both came by D&D the other day to make me check on his car. We don't fix cars, bruh, but he still left with his engine problem solved. No idea how, 'cause I didn't do shit. Goofy guy."

Kokonoi sighs. "It's been ages since they've been doing this, guys. Has no one ever realised the freaking hickeys on his neck? He's fuckin' cocky 'bout 'em too."

But as always, Draken is quick to get pissed off even with reason. He scoffs, "So what? We meet up just once a week to talk about the gang. Is it so hard to show up for just two hours every Sunday?"

...Mikey is always faster. He's already looming over you both (in his head he is) while the others are still busy busting their heads over you two.

"You." His voice is flat and his eyes are squinted, very annoyed. He looks like a grumpy child pissed that he didn't get a souvenir from his classmate. It doesn't help that he is much shorter than your boyfriend as well.

"What the hell are you doing here? If you wanna skip a meeting at least don't show up at our venue to show off. Are you asking for a beating?"

You poke your head out from his jacket just enough to take a quick look at Mikey who is standing behind you both, arms crossed while tapping his feet on the ground. Rindou turns his head and eyes the growing crowd who're slowly circling around you both.

Shion and Izana shrug simultaneously with their hands in the air when Rindou glares at them. 'We didn't say shit,' but his best friend mouths to him anyway, 'dumbass'. And for once, Kakucho is laughing.

From the corner of his eyes he can see Ran slowly approach you both, left behind by the crowd while sucking on a popsicle at this weather like the maniac he is. He quickly stands properly to fix on your clothing gently without letting you go from the confines of his jacket 一 to keep you warm like the loving boyfriend he is or to keep your face hidden like the petty boyfriend he is, you're not too sure.

He faces the crowd with you hiding behind his back, eyes wide as you listen.

"It's my girl's birthday today." He simply mutters, loud enough for the crowd to hear. No attitude, no eye roll 一 just five words, plain and simple.

"Huh?" The steam rising off of Mikey's head vanishes like a fire being put off by water, and Draken's expression significantly drops. He immediately coughs into his fist and bows a little when he sees you looking at him, pretty eyes folded into thin crescents as you pat on your boyfriend's back a little, whispering into his ear to ease up.

"What? I can't take you out to shop on your birthday now?" He says it to you with the expression of a sad little mistreated puppy and you try your best to shut him up while laughing. "Yes, yes you can. Now quiet, be nice to them." You say between giggles.

"Sorry. Happy birthday." Mikey immediately apologises, dazed. You snicker against Rindou's back and try your hardest to nod as a courtesy with your face half-hidden.

He still has something to say, though 一 like the big boy who doesn't like being misunderstood that he is 一 despite your best efforts on making him play nice and not be rude to his friends.

"I didn't come all the way here to show off, baka. We're waiting for this guy to celebrate together." He explains, one finger pointing to his nonchalant brother, as you both meet with Ran under the lamppost.

"And, dating isn't lame. Still being single is." His gaze switches to Emma who is playing with the buttons of her cardigan silently behind Draken, with a teasing smirk on his face.

"Asshole-"

"Bye. Don't follow us." He mocks the way Draken's mouth moves with a grin and you hit his arm while lightly bowing to the others as a goodbye.

"She looks so familiar." Takemichi whispers as he watch the three of you take off, and Hinata hums for him to continue. "I feel like I've seen her before."

Mikey looks at him with a soft smile on his face, as he takes a glance back at the rest who are still discussing about you two. They're all loud and boisterous, but they're having fun, and they're alive.

And suddenly the wires connect in his head.

Yeah, that's right. In the timeline before this, the timeline before that, and in all the timelines he's met with the Haitani Brothers, he's seen you too. You and Rindou side by side, and you're always together with Ran. You and him were never together before this because of your disapproval on their dangerous gang activities, but you are together now, in this timeline, where Ran and Rindou aren't just juvie kids and they're no longer cold-blooded murderers.

Mikey knows that too.

"Finally a happy timeline, right, Takemicchi?"

i'm extremely late to this but happy 2 years since tr ended and also not much tags cus idk what this is honestly. just read for fun LOL :p

[szqnxi]

Your number 1 fan (Part 3)

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

<<previous

It's Wednesday, and here you are, currently getting dolled up in the makeup room for your upcoming interview with the renowned Tv personality, Uwabami.

Your makeup artist withdraws the make-up brush from your face, offering you a warm smile, gesturing for you to look at your reflection in the mirror in front of you.

"Do you like it?" she inquired, gently moving your hair away from your face, allowing you to admire your reflection in the mirror.

"I do! You definitely need do this look for my upcoming tour" you exclaimed, utterly captivated by your reflection in the mirror. The make up artistry - the perfect eyebrows, the blush - perfect.

You swear you have never felt the prettiest in your entire life.

Right on time, your manager entered the room, looking visibly exhausted, with prominent dark bags under his eyes visible even from a mile away. He looked like he hadn't gotten a decent sleep in days.

"You look like shit"

"I'm aware" Shawn dismissibly replied, making his way towards the empty chair next to yours, collapsing into it with a heavy sigh before proceeding to open his tablet, resuming his work.

You picked up the untouched takeaway coffee on the vanity, and offered it to him. "Here. I think you need this more than me" you said.

He simply nodded and took a sip of the coffee. Time passed by, and before long, one of the production crew members called out to you, signaling that the interview was about to begin.

You patiently waited backstage, engaging in lighthearted conversations with a member of the production crew, passing time until the show started.

As the lights dimmed and the director shouted "action", Uwabami introduced herself, leading into the scripted lines, and as the cue was given, you confidently strode onto the set, ready to take your place on camera.

Talking with Uwabami has been nothing but pleasant. There was a natural, effortless chemistry between you both, as though you were just old friends catching up. There was no pressure or forced interactions, unlike other TV interviews you had experienced. It felt natural and comfortable.

You couldn't help but recall a particularly unpleasant interview where a famous TV host had the audacity to ask you an incredibly insensitive question, forcing you to put on a strained smile and sit there silently, as if he hadn't asked you the most offending question in your life.

"So, for my final question" your thoughts snapped back to reality, focusing on the host in front of you, who's wearing a grin on her face.

"When you were composing the song "Juno", did you perhaps have someone or anyone in mind while writing it?" she asked.

"Ooh, I like that one" you chuckled "I did" you grinned, mirroring hers "though I'll keep his identity a secret" you added with a cheeky giggle.

"What about a clue?"

"Hmm...let me see... Let's just say he's a pro hero"

"Ooh, but there are lots of pro heroes out there!" she laughed, turning towards the camera as though addressing the audience "How about we let them all guess?" She winked at the camera before continuing with the closing lines, bidding farewell to both the viewers and you, signaling the end of the set.

You stayed for a little while, engaging in a lighthearted conversation with Uwabami and other production staff, including the director, before retreating backstage to your make up room. There, both of Kim and Shawn were ready to leave, all packed up and set to go.

"So, who's driving? I don't see Mr. Smith anywhere" you questioned as the three of you reached the parking lot, noticing his absence. It was unusual for him not to accompany your makeup artist in the backstage while waiting for you to finish your shoot, especially as they typically engaged in their casual chatter while drinking take out coffee together.

"I'll be driving. Mr. Smith's daughter was in an accident, so I dismissed him for the day and gave him a whole week's paid leave" Shawn stated as he held open the car door for you.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow before getting in.

"What?" He asked, looking at you as you make yourself comfortable at the front passenger seat.

"Because I'm currently in a car with a sleep-deprived driver... I just want to get home in one piece" you teased , causing him to groan in surrender before starting the car.

During the ride, you talked about your forthcoming tour with your manager, while Kim informed you that she will be sleeping for the time being.

Thanks to him, all the necessary arrangements had been made, leaving only the security to be handled. While the venue had already provided security, the HPSC requirement was for at least one or two pro heroes to serve as additional guards for enhanced safety.

"I'm just waiting for them to call back and confirm. And don't worry, I specifically asked for him" he said, his gaze fixed on the road.

Shawn's phone rang. He swiftly pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to you, implying that you should answer the call as he was driving. You looked at the screen and it was as if the situation had called for it, the caller ID displayed the hero agency.

"Hello, this is Y/n speaking. My manager passed me the phone since he cannot answer the call at the moment. I presume this is the Hero Agency hired for the upcoming tour, correct?" you asked, awaiting a response from the other end of the line.

Speaking of the devil

You were only met with a long silence from the other line.

"Hello?" you repeated, only to be met with another silence followed by a brief hitch in the callers breathing before they suddenly ended the call.

What the hell?

Main Masterlist

Number 1 fan Masterlist

Note: Guess who answered the phone 🤭

Taglist: @v3n7s @yjploum @pikachuzhc @sirenitym @ghostswhoretbh @d1orhaz3 @sachikomwahxx

[chaotic-goodsir]

So it's Black Friday in a week and I just found out my boss wants me to personally ship like a million of these fuckin' Wiggly dolls across the country in time for the big day. Don't even have a vehicle, just gotta teleport this shit around like some kinda one-person eldritch DHL, and He's payin' me in fuckin' apples. I mean I tried to negotiate, I said 'hey my lord maybe we oughta hire some more folks to help with this little enterprise we've got goin' on' and He goes 'oh well ecktually I was just about to say! While you're at it I need you to find me a prophet! Someone who can bring about my birth and lead my new cult of devoted worshippers!' so of course I said 'wait a damn minute now, I've been runnin' errands for you since 2005! That's gotta be long enough to deserve a promotion. Why am I just the delivery guy? I could be your prophet.' And He just laughs at me an' says 'Oh Wiley-kins, we both know you're not just the delivery guy! You're the face of the entire company! Didn't you do so well in that little advertisment we made! Also if you question me again you'll pay for it,' and I mean sure, He's right, that commercial was a masterpiece. You know I directed the whole thing too? Fake beard was pretty uncomfortable but I think I pulled it off. Anyway, so now I've gotta get all these dolls delivered by Friday and start the apocalpse or I'm - well, not fired exactly, but I don't think you wanna wanna wanna hear the details. Hey Johnny are you even listenin'? Or are you just gonna point that gun at me and stare-

[copperbadge]

Yesterday I did indeed end up choosing "lie in comfy bed" over painting, but that also meant I had a bit more energy for taking care of other business later in the day. And honestly, yesterday was kind of humid, so not the most ideal day for painting when I need it to dry quickly so the cats don't accidentally get paint on their fur.

But I filled some prescriptions, and got myself set up with a health screening, both of which I did in the evening although I don't like evening errands. It's been so long since I tried dating actively that I'd forgotten it's a thing you want to do, getting regular STI checks. I had hoped to do it walk-in but most clinics seemed super busy (I found myself thinking "maybe now that we're going into the be indoors months everyone's getting to fuckin?") so I've got an appointment for Saturday. (More mostly dating stuff under the cut.)

Things are moving along with Museum Date, if slowly, so it's just as well. And, wildly, I also have a breakfast date on Saturday morning with someone. This is something of an increase in my normal success rate of zero. Not sure what I'm doing differently but I'll take it.

I kind of suspect it might be that I tried different apps this time; the general consensus is that for liberal people my age, OKCupid or Tinder are best. They do offer more filter options in terms of who you're looking for and why, sometimes. But being permabanned on those two for not being a real person (yikes) forced me to look at some alternatives. And, while it's not the only app I'm on, it's fascinating to me that I've seen a lot more people I'd actually date on eHarmony.

I KNOW. It used to be that was a very white, conservative, Christian space, but it appears now that if you're above forty, still pretty lefty, and (crucially) have your shit together, it's a strong option. The "edgy mess" to "articulately self-confident" ratio is very different there to hipper apps, and while there's nothing wrong with not quite having your shit together in your forties, the number of people who seem to be deliberate and proud about not having done any work on themselves drops sharply. Possibly too because there's really not much you can do on that one without paying, and paying indicates a level of both commitment to realness and financial stability.

Plus, cougars. I'm not immune. I don't have much interest in anyone younger than about forty, but I don't mind an age gap above it.

In any case both I and the other people I see on the apps I've drifted towards seem to know more who we are and what we want so maybe it's just maturity, I don't know. I see less "game" stuff like car selfies to prove you have a car and more "pictures with kids because you should be aware I have some".

Still, I'm not gonna lie, getting to know two whole entire new people in one month is kind of stressful. I wouldn't call myself committed to monogamy and I don't mind being involved with poly folk as long as it's all aboveboard, but having multiple regular partners sounds frankly exhausting. You guys have fun, imma take a nap.

[httpscomexe]

Little Red

Summary: You're a little pissed off at one of your partners, but he of course, makes up for it.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Wade x Reader x Logan

Warnings: Mention of sex. That’s it really. Heavy foul language?

Word Count: 2004

(I don't check for grammar, I'm too lazy for that shite)

“They’re in my sights, I’m moving in.” You look down at him from above the dark bridge, gun trained on the enemy as Wade moves in, gun pointed in their direction as they search for both of you, and you grin, you had them cornered and they didn’t even know it.

“Wait…” You mumble, sweeping your gun over the area again. “I thought there was three…”

“Shit-“ Then you hear it, the gun as it shoots you right in the back, your gun powering down for the next 10 seconds.

Fucking laser tag.

“Haha, I got you!” Peter pokes your forehead, pushing your head back playfully before running off for the last five seconds you had left, waiting for your gun to power back up.

Were you winning? Absolutely. Were you having fun? Most definitely. Should you all be out on a mission right now? We don’t talk about that.

There’s arcade music as your gun powers back up, and you immediately go back into ‘Call of Duty mode,’ as you like to call it, treating it as if it was a real mission and you didn’t just get shot in the back.

Turning a corner you see a blue glow, that meant Wade was there, your other partner having left already claiming the game wasn’t fair to them. Just because they’re blind, doesn’t mean it’s impossible.

“One is in the back left corner of the room, I’ll get the two on the opposite bridge.” Wade tells you, crouch running to get to the other side, cause who really gives a fuck about no running rules in laser tag rooms? Once the gun is in your hand and the vest is strapped around your front, the rules no longer apply, it was every man, or woman, for themselves, and you took it pretty damned seriously.

You turn the corner, the end of your gun pointed ahead with only 12 seconds left on the little screen, and so you rush it, moving into a jog to get to the end, searching for Kurt, and finding Peter, shooting him straight in the side while he’s looking up at Wade, satisfied with the 10 second time out, that meant he was done about 7 seconds early, so you pass him, ignoring the stupid look of defeat he gives you. You always start, and end with the first and last shot, and you always win. Today would not be the day you lost. So with your gun at the ready, you spot Kurt, he’s got his gun trained up where Wade is, you can tell by the blue glow, and he was waiting for Wades vest to pop up, but you knew it wasn’t going to, so you get close enough for the gun to catch onto the sensors, and you pull the trigger, but it doesn’t push down, instead of the classic video game gun sound, there’s a power down button as the lights turn on, cancelling out the neon and black lights, a groan leaving your throat.

“Why didn’t you shoot me?” Kurt laughs, standing up and looking at Wade again who was now scaling his way down the bridge over to you, Kurt, Peter, and Jane. Scott had also left the room because he was scared of lasers.

“I thought I had enough time for a takedown!” You smile largely, Wade coming up from behind you and lifting you around the waist, waddling awkwardly as he walks you to the exit.

You get out, looking up at the scoreboard. As usual, flawless accuracy, and the most points, you sigh. Thank you Clint. The winning team? Well, Wade picking you up and twirling you like a princess is enough to answer that question, obviously the blue team won. Meaning 500 tickets would be sent into your wristband, and your team wouldn’t be able to play again for thirty more minutes.

“Who won?” Al comes up behind you smiling, holding the big stuffie that she wants to believe is a teddy bear, no one had the heart to tell her…

“Uh, who do you think won?” Wade wiggles his finger directly in front of Al’s face.

“Judging by your hot breath on my face regardless of the mask, I’m assuming you and little red won?” Little red. You love Wade, but God that nickname was getting to be a bit much.

“You’re just mad you couldn’t see.”

“Bitch I got more shots than you probably.”

“Which would be impressive if your kill to death ratio wasn’t seven to twenty three.”

“Girls, come on, the pizza should be ready, and Logan should be here any minute now.” You grab Wades gloved hand, and you gently guide Althea over to the table where Scott was sitting, a small cup of tickets on the table, and a large box of pizza, only two missing. But you weren’t hungry, you were just excited to see Logan.

“Face it, he’s not coming.” Jane nudges you, grabbing a slice for herself, but you were pretty dedicated to looking towards the door, hoping his grumpy ass would peek in at any minute now. But to no avail.

“After this, we should do the race track.” Wade points at Kurt with the tip of his pizza, the weird bastard was eating it crust first. As if Wade couldn’t get weirder.

“Ze race track?” Kurt lifts the two litre bottle of coke, pouring it into a styrofoam cup with some ice that was half melted as you look down at your watch. Logan should’ve been there by now, he promised he’d be there… Surely he didn’t forget. Right?

“Yea, I mean one of us is bound to beat little red in racing, right?” Wade chuckles, looking at you looking at the doors.

“Right? Little red?” You feel a hand on your shoulder and you throw on a smile. “You can’t be good at racing too.”

“Actually, Tony Stark taught me himself.” Is what you would’ve said, but you’ll pass on that for now, those are stories for another time. “Wade, I will kick all of your asses in racing… I could beat you all with my eyes closed.” He smiles.

“Wanna give that a try?”

“No, I wanna go outside for a moment…” You answer quickly, it sounded almost sarcastic, but by the way Wade's chest heaves up and down in a silent heavy sigh, you know he’s disappointed. You were completely reliant on Logan, but you couldn’t help it. That bitch saved your life. And he wouldn’t even show up to an arcade for you now. “I just need a breather…” Wade nods, letting you go, a pat on the shoulder for comfort.

“Well, we’re gonna go practice rounds with five year olds as a replacement, and maybe we can even get Al driving. I'd love to see what she looks like behind a wheel completely unaware of another car in front of her.” You chuckle dryly, taking a step back.

“I’ll be right there, I promise.” You mumble the promise, stepping out of the large arcade and you go over to your truck, climbing into the bed and then onto the roof, sitting with your legs crossed as you open your phone, first checking Logan’s location, which as usual, was turned off. So you call him.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings.

And guess what?

It fucking rings.

You groan, opening your texts with him, the last one he sent being, “I’ll be there baby, I promise. Tell Wade I love him too.” Which makes you feel a wave of hurt just stroke through your body.

You call the number again for some reason. And it rings, and rings. Then it doesn’t.

“What the fuck?” Did this motherfucker just decline my call? Who the fuck does he think he is? You call back, and this time it only rings once before it’s sent straight back to voicemail. So again, you call, same thing. So you call again and again until you’re sure his voice box would be full of frustrated grumbles and groans from your side. “You motherfucking bitch…” Is what’s in the last voicemail until you open your camera app. Only to discover a fucking wall.

And that was it.

You hop off the roof of your truck, opening the door and starting the engine, letting it roar to life despite the snow as you buckle up quickly and swing out of the parking lot. You were not letting this motherfucker ignore you.

You take a sharp turn, speeding down the roads when you could, the little sticker on the back of your licence plate a warning for police not to pull you over.

“What the fuck could this ancient piece of art be possibly hiding from me?” You start yelling at nothing, wishing Wade was sitting next to you. “You save the fucking world with someone and you think you know a guy… especially one that’s been fucking inside of you.” You’re talking to the snow on your windshield now. You knew you’d get attached when you agreed to being in a relationship with Wade and Logan. You’re latched onto the two unkillable fucks like a leech, and until they see you when you’re out of your prime, you weren’t going anywhere, and they sure as hell weren’t gonna push you away. Especially not on the birthday that they all promised to be at. Which honestly, if it was just you, Wade, and Logan, you would’ve been completely satisfied. But with Logan missing, it just felt like a teenage hangout, Wade counting as a child.

You pull off the road, driving up the gravel quickly to the little cabin the three of you had put together, and you turn off the engine of the truck, throwing yourself out of the drivers seat, jamming the keys into the front door, and you push it slab of wood open, basically slamming it behind you before you freeze at the red coating the hardwood floor.

Rose petals…?

Your eyes squint in confusion. And you take another step inside. Red rose petals lead to the bedroom. Little fake candles lit up in the kitchen and living room. And you could barely hear two voices arguing with each other in the bedroom. Wade and Logan…

Logan…

Wade?

How the fuck-

Kurt…

You groan, taking slow and calculated steps towards the bedroom, you weren’t big on surprises, especially since on the other side of the wall there’s usually just a man with a gun.

But as soon as you step into the bedroom…

“Surprise!” Wade shouts, conferring thrown into the air, and there’s glitter flying at you, making you turn away but it just covers your clothes and the floor, not reaching your eyes, nose, or mouth.

Wade was standing in jeans and a pink polo now, his suit and mask kicked into the corner as if it was expertly hidden, and he even managed to get Logan to wear something else from his usual beater and jeans. He was now just wearing elmo pyjamas and a pink hoodie.

“Happy birthdayyy little red!” Wade sings, clapping his hands and running up to you for a hug, which you of course give him, sending a death glance towards Logan who just laughe, taking a few steps towards you.

“I know, I promised to go to the arcade, but baby I am more than two hundred years old, pac man isn’t exactly my thing…” He grabs your waist, wrapping one arm around you and smiling.

“So you set this up…?” He nods, and you feel Wade come up behind you.

“Figured we’d give you a break and let you relax while we take care of you…”

“It was my idea…” Wade chirps, and Logan growls. “Mostly my idea… the sex part was my idea…” His hands also rest on your waist, smiling against your neck as Logan stares down into your eyes.

“Happy birthday, little red…” He leans down, kissing you, and suddenly the nickname doesn’t seem all that bad.

[3gremlins]

my personal head canon is that spite isn't actually in opposition to lucanis at all but actually thinks of them as a unit. spoilerish lucanis musings

like even before you do the mindscape quest for him, spite refers to them as a "we" (spite comments "they know we're not right" if rook questions lucanis about his weird behavior during that first quest)

spite actually feels a lot more like cole than the in game narrative gives him credit for- he's a spirit of determination twisted- i'd think he would have been attracted to lucanis' bloody mindedness to stay alive/survive the ossuary already and want to assist in that (and maybe it got twisted by what the venatori were doing by forcing them together? is that how they were attracting the spirits maybe? like laying out sad humans as traps to turn them into demons? if it's in the writing, it's possible i missed it). i think the deal they make is just to put the bond in terms both understand, but there's something deeper there. (as with cole, im not sure if spite totally understands what he does sometimes is harmful to lucanis- like he wants a thing and throws a tantrum and hurts lucanis, but it's kind of like they haven't worked out boundaries? you def get the vibe that spite is also protecting lucanis in other ways and is just...bad at it. they spend a long time in DAI establishing that spirits are attracted to the living world/curious about it, but don't understand it completely either and have to learn to be people/to relate to people. )

also for the mindscape quest, spite actually comes and gets rook to get their help with lucanis- that's not really the behavior of a spirit forced to be somewhere or even making the best of a bad situation, but rather one that wants to be there/cares in some way.

i really wish the game let you refer to them in a more nuanced way- spirit touched/bonded or something instead of "abomination" because they're clearly not. Also especially if you've rolled a Mourn Watch Rook- like you'd think they'd have better language for it or be more understanding. We've seen 3 (4 if you count justice twice, maybe 5 if you count mythal/flemeth?) spirit/demon partnered/created characters in the narrative and i wish the writing around them was more thoughtful about it instead of it seeming sort of one off curiosity every time.

because it's so interesting! you could even see an alt universe where the reason fenris has got creepy lyrium ghost powers is there's some kind of spirit bond there too (hey it's the venatori doing creepy venatori shit, not that big of a stretch) and why he can veer sort of wildly the same way anders/justice can depending on hawke's empathy bond re: rivalry/friendship (like a darker flip of spirit cole versus human cole maybe? ) idk there's so much there and we get little breadcrumbs lol (that's okay, i've got fan art ideas)

[striveattemptfail]

a cursed realization: wade and logan are old men. logan especially so.

they MUST have weird old man habits and general body weirdness. and not the endearing shit like preferring to use old school tech, or having a "get off my lawn, my favourite miscreants" kinda attitude, or being unable to keep up in sex, or any of that kinda cute stuff

i mean the unpleasant sweaty old man smell, having walking farts, snoring while awake, their stomachs just making noises for no goddamn reason bc their digestive systems are no longer 30 y/o

all of which they don't even realize they're doing bc they're old and either a) have more pressing things to worry about [at their age]; b) stopped giving a fuck; or c) both of the above

source: i live with two very old men (my dad and uncle). one is a few years away from retirement and the other is already at that age. they are family but they are still gross old men who act like drunk uncles given half the chance

and while neither logan or wade are in their 60s, these habits don't just magically appear once you hit that age. they begin long before that and accumulate over time until the stinky old man package is complete

"but jercy," you say, "they have perfect regeneration!! they can't have any health problems!! they're too self-conscious to be that gross!!"

1: (re: perfect regeneration) that is an even worse argument for wade, who has mega cancer and canonically does not smell pleasant or have a properly functioning body. he'd 100% have old man problems as a symptom of his cancer bc his mutation is physically keeping him in a constant state of dying. everything he does is out of sheer stubbornness and willpower to make a joke out of his life

1b: to play on a popular headcanon: any aromatic, artificial fruity skincare routine he has can easily be used as a reason for him to cover up his old man smell

2: see point B above for logan

2b: see the movie, logan (2017), or the comic, death of wolverine (2014), for the fact that logan can canonically age/die. albeit it's at a vastly slower pace than everyone else, but it means logan WILL eventually have these issues with his body too, if he doesn't have them already

2c: feral/animalistic logan who takes on animal traits would be so much worse bc wolverines are called "skunk bears" for a reason. wolverines (and any wildlife/animal that you can compare logan to) fucking STINK!! they have EVEN GROSSER ANIMAL HABITS!! you just gotta accept it

3: (re: self-consciousness) you got a point there, but once again refer to point B. most folks i know at their age are on their way to or have already stopped caring about what others think of them. and even if wade and logan are somehow the exceptions to this, i'm sure they let loose in private and probably indulge in their grosser habits when they're alone

4: if you want biblically accurate old man yaoi you're gonna have to contend with the fact that it comes with the non-sexy old man problems. i'm sorry i have to break the illusion but this is the reality we must face together

5: suspension of disbelief, friends. do engage with that once in a while lol

in conclusion: i unfortunately have every bit of confidence that wade and logan are not exempt from old man behaviours and bodily functions and i will die whining about it. thanks for coming to my ted talk

[rocksibblingsau]

The TBT got me thinking about the movie's writing again, so here's some thoughts. Clay being the only one to get an on-screen apologize doesn't make any sense narrative wise.

When you look exclusively at what's implicitly canon (so no 'he was at the tree that whole time' headcanons, even if they make some sense), Clay is the least in need of apologizing compared to the other three. Bruce is slightly more in need of apologizing than him because he was the second eldest and second to leave, but this point is not about him, it's about how it should have been either JD or Floyd (ideally it would be all of them apologizing actually, but again, not about that rn)

John Dory is practically the main force behind the movie's plot and emotional conflict, so we're talking about him first. John Dory in the movies, well, he kinda sucks a lot of ass. During the Brozone days, he was very bossy, overbearing, lowkey emotional/verbally abusive and the first to leave them all while being the oldest and implied to be their only caretaker outside of their elderly grandma. And even though some people give Clay and Bruce shit for how they behaved towards JD during the Rhonda fight scene, they were RIGHT, he was being bossy and a dick during that scene, and while all the bros were at fault about how they treated Branch during it, he was also the worst of them (like he was the only one who not only denied they would stay together after saving Floyd, but also actually made fun of Branch for even thinking so). And that is without mentioning how he got the the three of them trapped later in the film in the stupidest way possible.

This is NOT to say that he is some kinda of unredeemable abusive monster, no, even if its not said out loud in the movie, its left pretty implicit that he had his reasons for acting the way he did and that he was under a lot of stress himself running the band and caring for his 4 younger brothers while likely being a kid himself during the Brozone days. BUT, after all that, it feels so strange to have the time for one singular apologize apparently and to not give it to HIM of all people. He giving Branch the lead during the Family Harmony is the only thing he does that implies he changed his way after ALL of that, even Venner gets more redeemable qualities than that!

It just makes his storyline feel incomplete honestly, like the movie only bothers to drop slight hints that this man doesn't completely suck and then turns around and both doesn't build up further on those hints AND doesn't make him do anything to redeem himself with Branch and any of his other brothers.

And if for whatever reason it wasn't going to be John, why not Floyd??? I don't even care that much that we don't get a reason for why Floyd never went back, its kinda even implied that he never intended to come back and was just trying to comfort Branch by lying, but again, if you're going to set aside time for one-on-one apologizes after everything is set and done, why not use it for tying up one of the main story points set in the begging of the movie.

Is like they even forgot that they set up Floyd promising to come back and never doing so, because as far as I remember (could be wrong tho), after the introduction, Branch only refers to Floyd as "the only one who said goodbye". With for Branch's character makes sense really, but for the narrative feels plain unsatisfactory. It sets time aside to set up out loud that something was supposed to happen and it never did (crucially affecting the trajectory of the main character's life) and it just... never brought up again. No excuse, no Im sorry for that actually, no anything. Instead we get Clay, which in the movie, has no special relationship or plotline with Branch compared to the rest whatsoever, being the one that gets to have on-screen closure. Why?????

In conclusion, the movie could have an 100% better script and tighter emotional conclusion if they had just let the writers have two even ONE extra rewrites. But not, instead we get two plotlines that likely will never get resolved because got forbid this franchise actually has a proper continuity between films yippeeeeee

(Im truly sorry for this ramble, I just have too many thoughts and too little friends that even know what Trolls are, and by too little I do mean actual zero. Hope you enjoyed it at least, if not, Im sorry again)

I agree that Clay was the one Troll who had a good reason he never got to go back and visit or anything. It was definitely weird that he was the only one who apologized for never getting to see Branch grow up, but I think it says a lot about his character that he did.

[quantum1mmortality]

dude. dude. rugburn on the inner thighs from Curly's beard. that's all I gotta say.

No need to say anymore anon, I understand the assignment. I hope I don't disappoint.

Tw/cw; normal nsfw shit, Afab!reader

Not proofread

Okay, we've all seen my head hcs, yes?

Okay, well, if you haven't, I said in those that Curly would prefer you sitting on his face.

And that's still true, but I think it would be a lot harder for you to get rugburn if that were the case.

So, new hc; multiple rounds.

Obviously Curly is a munch, we already knew that.

I'm thinking after work, he's tired. He just wants something to eat, his favorite meal. And obviously, that's going to be you, his beloved wife.

He'd have you sit on his face for the first few rounds, but after some time, you start to get tired. Not a big deal, just switch positions.

You're laying down now, hands tangled in Curlys hair while he eats you out. Instinctively, your legs close around his head, basically trapping him in place(not that he's complaining, though).

As you begin to get closer and closer to finishing, your legs begin trembling and rub against him. You whimper out at the pain you're feeling, the inside of your thighs now hurting at the friction, but you can endure it a little longer.

A few more rounds and you're nearly unconscious, from both the pain and the pleasure. Curly likes overstimulating you, you knew that already, but it usually only gets to that point when he's actually penetrating you.

Your grip on his hair getting weak, as well as your moans getting more soft and quiet was enough for him to realize you're spent. He backs away from you, looking down at the mess(🤭🤭🤭) he's made, and oh my god your thighs are RED what happened to you???

Eventually he realizes it's his fault, and being the good husband he is, he takes responsibility and apologizes PROFUSELY.

He'd run a nice, warm bath for you both. It's part of your average aftercare, but this time he's especially careful cleaning around your thighs.

He'd probably hold off on eating you out for the next few days :( it's torture for him, but that rugburn must HURT and he doesn't wanna do that to you </3

A/N; I have time tonight FINALLY so I might be able to get a few more asks out 💪💪💪 don't count on it though