#I AM sorry to like. rain on your parade

[fractallogic]

Me, the last person for the question “so what are your plans for the break?” to come around to during lab meeting today: idk it depends on when my mom dies and how much of the ensuing work absolutely needs to be done by me in colorado, because otherwise I’m either staying here or maybe going to see my dad in CA

Everyone else, who has answered various kinds of “staying here/visiting family/etc”: 😨

Me: don’t worry she has brain cancer!! It’s been like this for like seven months now

Everyone else: 😨😨😨

Me: oh yeah no it’s a good thing, it’s a relief honestly, she’s like, very unaware and close to death at this point

Prof, who has known about this since July or so: it does get that way, you know. *waxes philosophical about death and how college is stressful and important, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not THAT important*

Prof: so on that note, I guess I should let you go! Have a good break everyone!! Congrats on finishing the term!!

Me: SORRY GUYS 😬

And then the prof and I had a nice very straightforward talk about how yeah, I don’t entirely know if I have to go, but it would be nice if I didn’t need to, and I’m not her executor but yeah it IS kind of weird that her boyfriend of ~5 years or so is, and hahaha well one of many reasons I’ve been mostly estranged from her are her weird decisions about things

But for real I’m very much looking forward to having some certainty about anything soon. Can’t wait to stop traveling as much. Can’t wait to just like, NOT think about death and brain cancer all the time and go down to my normal volume of calls from family members. Can’t wait to stop thinking about my mom all the gotdam time. I am TIRED let me REST

[danggirlronpa]

!!! You are SO RIGHT about Sato!!! I'm mixed on human Chiaki, because I do think she had potential—her arc about trying to help Hajime and yet not being enough for him, him choosing his ambitions over her and the idea of being “good enough” for her over what she ACTUALLY wanted had, in my opinion, tremendous potential. I really like characters who explore “people see me as this symbol (of either hope or of talent and success itself for Chiaki) and have an image of me in their heads that isn't actually me” and I also like when it goes further into “people disregard what I actually wanted for what they think I should want” too. I also think that “being a symbol people only see what they want in” idea could have strengthened the parallels between Junko and Chiaki too, which, those parallels were some of the only things I really liked about DR3. I said this in a previous ask (I am! The nanamiki anon as well! Surprise! Sorry for sending you so many asks, aha) but if I was to have human!Chiaki still be a thing, I would have the remnants slowly turn on her due to Junko poisoning their opinions on her, culminating with her death - I think that could have been really interesting.

Another reason I like human!Chiaki is because in SDR2, Chiaki was very much giving me Autistic Vibes (as someone with autism as well) and while I love that for her, I do think that having one of only AI characters be one of the only autistic ones could maybe. Not send the best message. Tbh. But with her being based on a human, it makes sense - she inherited her autism from the human she was based on.

That being said, I also feel like it undercuts the moment in the final chapter that AI Chiaki had with Hajime about not forgetting her… And I also feel like the anime treated human Chiaki as More Important/Real/Valid than AI Chiaki, which is really upsetting as someone who likes AI Chiaki as much as I do. I mentioned in the nanamiki ask that I liked some of the depth DR3 gave to Mikan and Chiaki's relationships, and I stand by that! I think that's also a positive that came from human!Chiaki.

But all things considered, I think there's a lot of cons to having human!Chiaki as well. I totally, totally, totally agree about having Sato be the Ultimate Archer in place of Chiaki! It adds so much to the story - specifically if you keep Natsumi in the reserve course. Hold on, I'm going to go find something I said on the topic in a comment on one of my fics:

“In Twilight Syndrome (and later in DR3 too, I think?) it's said that Sato is in the archery club. I think that her being the Ultimate Archer fits because of that, and I also think that they should have made it so reserve course students *couldn't* join clubs (though that would possibly contradict what is said in DR0, so you'd have to tweak that novel too). That would emphasize how discriminatory HPA is. I also think Sato being an Ultimate and Natsumi not could play a role in emphasizing that, too; let's say HPA did suspect Sato, but did nothing because Sato was an Ultimate and Natsumi wasn't. And then when Fuyuhiko killed Sato, they also suspected him and did nothing, because he was an "even more talented" Ultimate (and the Kuzuryu family probably made a lot of donations to HPA in the past—along with Nagito, probably, too—so they favor them & that's even why they knew about Fuyuhiko and Peko and scouted them in the first place). You could really emphasis HPA's rot and corruption with this, and it would give Fuyuhiko a lot of motive to destroy HPA once Junko comes along. Plus, it would also give her reasons to be friends with the other girls outside of Mahiru, like we see in SDR2. I'm not exactly opposed to Sato being a reserve course student, but I do think there could be a lot of interesting things if she wasn't.”

So, yeah, I totally agree with you about Sato! I definitely acknowledge the potential pros of human!Chiaki, but even at her best I still am conflicted on her, in big part because of Sato. I actually… and sorry for self promoting here, aha, I always feel sort of embarrassed when I do so… have written exactly that scenario- about human!Chiaki not being a thing and being replaced with Sato, and Sato being the Ultimate Archer. That's the case in my Twilight Syndrome Murder Case: A Series Of Character Studies series (first one is tilted girl a and second one is titled girl b, my username is Buttercup_ghost on ao3! None of the others are out yet) which is all about the Twilight Syndrome characters. I love Twilight Syndrome. I'm SO upset about how they handled it in DR3, it had no lasting impact on anyone except arguably Hajime, and! Like! What!!! Plus, the retcon about Mahiru not covering up Sato killing Natsumi… that one hurts the most I think. If she didn't even do that, why did she even die in SDR2?? Plus! I really liked that morally ambiguous element to Mahiru's character! That's probably the Twilight Syndrome retcon I'm most upset about. Though, tbh, the only one I'm overwhelming positive towards (instead of mixed on) would be making Natsumi a reserve course student. I think it added a lot to her character - gave her a level of insecurity, gave her the ability to have a interesting relationship with Hajime and added more dimension to her other relationships as well (Mahiru, Fuyuhiko, Peko), gave her a motive for bullying Mahiru, AND recontextualized Fuyuhiko calling her Ultimate Little Sister (she never had to prove herself… not to him… to him she WAS the Ultimate Little Sis from the start…) in a really sweet way. Tbh? The only DR3 retcon I'm pretty much fully happy with.

But yeah! Sato not having relationships with anyone else on screen except Mahiru from the Twilight girls is such a fucking crime. I want to see!! Her and Mikan!!! Interact!!! What's her and Hiyoko's relationship like too? What about Ibuki and her? I'm SO interested and we get NOTHING :( of course I loved what we got of her and Mahiru, but I want to see her with the other girls too!

Sorry for rambling so much in your in box! I almost reblogged the ask with my additions, but I was afraid you wouldn't get a notification for that so I just decided to send in an ask instead. Figured I would probably have to send an ask alterting you of the reblog, so might as well just send it as an ask, you know?

YEAH a lot of this is so good!! I'm definitely with you. I think real person Chiaki wasn't inherently a bad idea, but that it was executed poorly. I, personally, would have written Chiaki being the very first to go down a violent and brutal path of despair, dragging the others down with her, shown her in her last moments begging one of the THH survivors to forgive her in the afterlife, and retroactively made AI Chiaki into a redemption arc for an evil character the same as the rest of the class. But that's not what this ask is about, so I won't dwell on it too much! Suffice to say that I think they could've done much better with it.

I also REALLY like anime Natsumi. I wish they hadn't made her quite so sympathetic (the whole Twilight Syndrome plot hinges on the belief that she is genuinely planning to murder Mahiru!), but that's from an overarching story perspective; as an individual character, it made me exceptionally more fond of her. And I wish we'd gotten more interactions between her and the main cast, too! For all she seemingly bullied Mahiru they only ever interacted once. Not enough time spent on Twilight Syndrome. Just in general.

And you're DEAD ON about the lost opportunity to highlight Hope's Peak's elitism. The reserve course could've been so much. And they did so little with it. More than anything else, I think the treatment of the Reserve Course is abysmal. I still get so furious when I remember Chisa talking about how much duller the days were working in the Reserve Course and how they remained a bunch of nameless faces while she worked there. Absolutely infuriating. These teenagers didn't deserve a teacher who loved them and called them rotten oranges and told them fun speeches about high school because they weren't ultimates? Abhorrent message about intellectual elitism. Fuck off. And Natsumi's death could've been the PERFECT way to highlight it.

(& for anyone interested, the fic series they're talking about is here!)

[paranetics]

Have sympathy for the guy all you want but don't call thus 19 year old man a child. Yeah it's a pity he was forced into it but he wasn't a kid. Don't add to the issue of adult men being infanfilised whenever something bad happens.

Especially when there were ACTUAL children on that refugee boat.

hey come off anon and be fucking stupid with your face attached to it. you deserve to be shamed all the way to hell you disgusting little reprobate. if you think 19 years was long enough on this planet that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard in my whole life. you think adulthood is measured by the legal statute of years lived instead of experience in life, you are completely mistaken. a majority of 19 year olds aren’t in college. they can’t drink. they can’t rent a car. they still haven’t decided on personalities.

the double standard in the media coverages is a valid talking point NOT somehow choosing to make this about “infantilizing men” you moron. the greecian disaster was a horrible fucking tragedy, unfortunately i am one human person and not a news outlet or a conglomeration of people blasting out posts at the speed of light. i am one dude who was sad about a 19yo who died cus he loved his dad, while people were trivializing his death because it was funny the CEO of dumbshit corporation decided to ignore basic safety to attempt a 12500 ft dive.

you’re a mean spirited ugly person who can’t think their way out of a cardboard box and you’re even worse for doing it on anon, because you know i’d block you sight unseen.

[teaboot]

As someone who learnt english as a second language via textbook, I have to say "flying by the seat of my pants" is a hilarious idiom xD

It's the first time I've seen/heard it.

Could you share another one you like using?

Idk about idioms specifically, but there's a bunch of phrases I learned from my mom!

Lord love a duck! (Incredulous, like 'oh my god')

Lord suffer in sheep dip! (Sheep dip meaning sheep poop. Incredulous, but for annoying things- like 'are you kidding me?')

Is there a piano tied to your ass? ('Don't be lazy, do it yourself')

Someone's cruising for a bruising. (You're picking a fight.)

I don't give a rat's rip. ('I don't care'- a rat's 'rip' is it's butt crack.)

Pull up a stump! (Get yourself a chair, sit down.)

Everybody out of the pool! (Get out of the car)

I'm flying by the seat of my pants. (I have no idea what I'm doing, but I'm doing it.)

Don't go blowing smoke up my ass. (Don't over-compliment me, don't flatter me, don't stroke my ego, don't tell me positive lies)

Looks like it's gonna rain on our parade. (A storm is coming.)

Sorry to rain on your parade. (I've given you bad news- can be used sincerely or sarcastically to denote sympathy for incurring a bad mood.)

Better button that lip. (Stop talking.)

Someone's gonna stick a boot up your ass. ('Stick a boot up your ass'- fight you, beat you, kick your ass.)

Stick that lip out any further, and a pigeon'll shit on it. (Stop whining.)

Suck it up, buttercup. (Stop whining.)

Dumber than a fence post. (Very stupid.)

The back forty. (The wild or forested area behind a rural home. The 'forty' being forty acres, or farmland.)

Don't go begging for a fat lip. (Whatever you're saying or doing is going to bother people and get you in trouble.)

What on God's green earth (What the fuck)

I'm sweating like a pig in a porta-potty (like a pig in a plastic outhouse- I'm very warm, it's hot here)

He thinks the universe flew out of his ass. (He thinks he's more impressive than he is.)

Your mouth wrote a cheque your ass couldn't cash. (You promised more than you were capable of providing.)

You've got a horseshoe up your ass. (You're very, very lucky.)

Taking a dirt nap. (Dead.)

Pushing (up) daisies. (Dead.)

Give me forty acres to turn this rig around. (I need time and space to move this large, heavy, or unwieldy thing. Usually about navigating a vehicle. Taken from a song lyric.)

Jesus take the wheel. (God help me, I can't handle this, I give up.)

Gone belly-up. (Has died.)

We've got a floater. (This one is dead.)

Herding cats. (Trying to organize chaos, managing an impossibly complicated situation.)

I've got a black thumb. (I am bad at growing plants, all my plants die- reference to having a 'green thumb', or being good at growing plants.)

Stop trackin' floor cookies. (Floor cookies are bits of animal shit that fall off your work boots- 'tracking floor cookies' means wearing your boots in the house; take your shoes off at the door.)

Running around like a headless chicken. (Frantic, disorganized, stressed out by many tasks or panicked by a big situation.)

Spinning my wheels. (Waiting around for something to happen, getting nowhere, frustrated by inactivity, not making any progress towards a goal.)

He's gonna blow a gasket. (He's going to lose his temper, he's going to be angry.)

They'll tan your hide. (They'll punish you severely; usually through violence. Specifically in reference to a spanking.)

He's a few bricks short a load. (He's not clever / he doesn't think things through / he's crazy)

Not the sharpest tool in the shed. (Not the smartest person. Very dumb, clumsy, or absent-minded.)

I'm not going to bail you out. (Not going to save your sinking boat- not going to help you out of your bad situation.)

Looks like things are going south. (The situation is growing worse.)

I'll start making tracks. (I'll leave now, I'll start working, I'll get going.)

He's fucking the dog. (He's not being productive, he's doing a bad job, he's made things worse, he's screwing around.)

He's making puppies. (Less graphic version of 'fucking the dog'.)

Plant your ass. (Sit.)

Playing grab-ass. (Procrastinating- accomplishing nothing, slowing people down.)

He couldn't find his ass in the dark. (He's stupid, ineffective, underqualified, or incompetent.)

He couldn't pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. (He is unbelievably, comically dumb or ineffective. He can't do anything right.)

One foot in the ground. (Dying, or half-dead.)

I'm kicking rocks. (I'm not doing anything productive.)

I'm hauling ass. (I'm running away.)

Madder than a wet hen. (Very, very angry.)

Like I said I'm not sure that these are all idioms but they're all the phrases and sayings from my childhood that I can remember right now

EDIT: Cannot BELIEVE I forgot my mom's favourite

52. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first. (Wishes don't come true by themselves)

Plus some more I forgot:

53. You make a better door than a window. (You're in the way of my view.)

54. You can take a long walk off a short pier. (Go fuck yourself.)

55. He's about as sharp as a bowling ball. (He's stupid.)

56. Scoot your poot. (Move over.)

57. Not my first rodeo. (I know what I'm doing.)

58. He's built like a brick shithouse. (He's broad and sturdy and very strong, solid.)

59. I smell bacon. (I saw a cop nearby.)

60. I don't want to hear a peep. (Stop talking.)

61. You're thinking with the wrong head. (You're making bad decisions because you're horny.)

62. I'd lose my ass/head if it wasn't tied on. (I'm very absent-minded, forgetful.)

63. That went down like a lead balloon. (That situation was bad.)

[hitlikehammers]

to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die)

rating: t ♥️ cw: angst with a happy ending (which is actually kinda fluffy?), limbo/near-death experiences, post-S4/Upside Down-heavy, falling in love ♥️ tags: falling for each other in the space between life and death, happy ending

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-six: Love is a fire that never goes out (@sidekick-hero)

this is because of 1) this song being too close to the prompt for me to disengage it in my head, and the chorus therefore dictating this plot line, and 2) @hbyrde36 picked it and, again, I am very susceptible to people indicating they like a thing and would enjoy more, so @hbyrde36: I hope you enjoy what this became ♥️

“Oh fuck, not you, too.”

Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here—

“What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face.

“This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“

“I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and—

He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out.

That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.

“I,” Steve licks his lips; his mouth is so fucking dry but swelling kinda hurts and…he’s not as fucked up as he has a feeling he should be, he needs to think harder than he’s ready for just now to figure out what the last thing that happened between where he was, and where he is but: he thinks he should be more fucked up on, like, an instinctual level that knows he should be pretty fucked up, basically, and he’s not.

But again: he still hurts, and that…also doesn’t sound like death.

He swallows anyway; not that it helps.

“Max said there was this, black void,” Steve works through the first thing that comes to mind slowly, processes as he speaks; “with water,” and he looks down and sees the ripples in what he’s sitting in, moving around him but…but the reflections are right, and there’s no light so how are there even wrong reflections; he wasn’t good in his science classes but he feels pretty sure you need light to see anything in a mirror, plus—

“Water,” he flicks his hand from the standing pool around him up at Eddie without warning: “that wasn’t wet.”

Eddie splutters, but it dies down quick: it’s supposed to be wet. He expects it to be.

But it’s not. His eyes go so fucking big.

“It’s attached to the Upside Down,” Steve pushes on; “Eleven can like, come here, but,” he shakes his head and Eddie grimaces: she lost her powers.

“So it’s almost-death,” Eddie surmises, and drops into the not-water next to Steve.

“I guess so,” Steve shrugs, and draws his legs up; hugs his knees.

“Fucking great,” Eddie huffs, sneers, and it’s…Steve not sure why exactly, but it feels…targeted. Directed at him, because one, yes: he isthe only other thing here—as far as he can tell—but the words Eddie’d no-greeted him with float back into his consciousness:

Not you.

“Sorry to rain on your parade, man,” Steve bites out and shoves his head down between his thighs, maybe to breathe, maybe to think, maybe to hide, maybe to fucking cry, maybe to…fuck, he doesn’t even know.

He thinks he’s in the middle of trying to split the difference of every possible thing when Eddie’s voice breaks the still in the dark: “I didn’t,” and honestly, Steve’s never heard that voice sound so soft, so small; “that’s not what I meant,” and it’s an apology even if they words don’t add up exact, Steve feels it clear like a blow to the solar plexus. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring out at the nothing.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Eddie whispers, and his lip trembles, Steve can see that despite the lack of light.

Steve can see tears on that face, too, despite the lack of any light.

“But I hate that you’re here,” Eddie’s voice catches on kind of a whine, and Steve maybe would startle, when a hand reaches out and covers his; Eddie still does look at him, but he flattens his hand over Steve’s like a squeeze:

“That you’re here, too.”

And, oh. Okay.

Okay.

They’re here, then. Together.

Here.

___________________

It takes a while—he thinks; he thinks it’s a while, but one of the first things that makes itself plain in this godforsaken place is how times means absolutely fucking nothing, so; he think it takes a while to remember the vines.

They were coming back for Robin, and Steve would die before he let her get hurt so: that’s the last thing he remembers.

For Eddie, it’s the bats; Steve grimaces, hates even imagining like…swarms of them. More of their bites.

He’s the one who reaches for Eddie’s hand, this time—he wants to say it’s just a little comfort for the particularly bad things that are coming up as they sit here, as they draw patterns in the not-water and blow against it to make little waves just for shits, mindless and stupid: he wants to say that when it gets too much, and then keeps going, when it’s the worst, they’ve started to reach because what else can they do? Who else can they lean on?

Who’s gonna fucking know?

Actually: no. He doesn’t want to say that.

He wants to say the truth: the truth being they touch a lot. They reach a lot. They reach because it’s quiet. They reach because it’s dark. They reach because they’re frustrated. Or they’re scared. Steve could map Eddie’s calluses blind if he was asked to. Eddie traces his veins without being able to see close enough to know that he’s right.

He wants to say the truth: that he wants to touch. He craves it. And not just from anyone.

He craves this.

He doesn’t know what that fucking means.

But he’s the one who reaches, and covers Eddie’s hand, presses down to keep him when Eddie remembers the bats.

And he’s the one who leans, who rests their shoulders together and holds his breath.

But Eddie is the one who doesn’t move away, who leans in too, he tips his head onto Steve and breathes out slow so Steve can feel the warm damp of it on his skin and…

Steve’s heart’s fucking pounding, but then also it’s kinda like fluttering, and either way:

That’s not death.

___________________

Steve likes that the not-water is…not water, because lying back in it doesn’t fuck up his hair. Which…feels cleaner than it should be he figures maybe that’s just the same as both he and Eddie not being riddled with the wounds they should be rights be covered in—he can run his hands through it and that’s really all he wants, his hands, or like, you know if other hands wanted—

Whatever; he’s not going to question the not-water. He’s happy it doesn’t make him a wet dog just for trying to lay back and pretend there are stars.

Which he’d still be doing, if a weird…flapping noise hadn’t started up over to the left.

He has to squint in the no-light to see what the fuck’s going on, something in Eddie’s hands, oh shit, flapping, is it one of those fucking bats—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie freezes, and turns. And Steve sees what’s in his hands.

Doesn’t change his question.

Eddie just blinks at him. And runs his thumbs over the desk of cards he’s holding, flicking them one by one: flapping.

“Where the hell did those come from?”

Eddie shrugs. “Pocket.”

Steve gapes a little.

“You’ve had them the whole time?” because again, even if the feeling’s shifted: what the fuck

“Lots of pockets, man,” Eddie grins cheekily as he shakes his jacket out, like Steve can see any pockets.

Then he’s walking over to Steve on his knees before dropping cross-legged and shuffling the deck before he taps them out on his thigh and leans in:

“Pick your poison.”

And Steve’s played his share of cards, is actually pretty decent at poker, but, like…

“I don’t,” he bites his lip and stares at the predictable red pattern of the face-down cards;“I don’t want to think,” he finishes, kinda fucking lame, but Eddie’s not deterred, flips a few cards off the top with a thump before balancing the rest on his knee, offering half the cards he’s still holding to Steve with a little wiggle of his eyebrows:

“Go Fish?”

And Steve, he, like—

This is not-death, right, but whatever it is, it’s probably not good, and yet here Steve sits, with five cards in his hand and…Jesus.

He feels his lips stretch and he doesn’t think he’s smiled like this in…

In a while.

___________________

“Three Musketeers,” Steve answers when they’re lounging in the not-water, heads lined up so sometimes Steve feels the tickle of Eddie’s curls.

“The fuck?” Eddie huffs a laugh; the question was just things they’d miss if they never get out of here; like, it’s a little morbid and also a little hopeful all at once.

They’ve been working deeper in the category of food for a bit now, and so it’s candy bars. And Steve does not see what’s controversial about his choice, honestly.

“I love those, shit,” Steve waves his hand in the air, dismissing Eddie’s very wrong opinion, here; “they’re just,” Steve hums, tries to figure out the best way to defend a genuinely fucking excellent snack food:

“They’re simple,” and that sounds like a weak defense but look at where they are, look at their lives, that is fucking high praise. “Not too sweet and like, light and airy and,” Steve tilts his head, imagines the mouthfeel:

“Kinda delicate when you bite into ‘em,” he feels himself grin a little: “like bubbles or something,” because…yeah.

They’re awesome, but then he looks over at Eddie, who’s already turned to look at him, his gaze…something. Weighty but not oppressive. Piercing but not painful.

“Sorry,” Steve feels himself flush and it’s no the first time, or the worst time, but he’s grateful just like he is every time that there’s no fucking light and whatever lets them see at all doesn’t give away a blush; “sorry, that’s—“

“That’s adorable,” Eddie says with something…equally undefinable in his voice as much as his eyes, but this thing makes Steve feel, like, warm and tingly, a little, under his skin, in his chest; “you’re right, they’re…” and Eddie reaches for his hand, which they do a lot, yeah, but not…not so often for good things and this feels…like a good thing.

“They’re really good,” Eddie presses his hand over Steve’s, like a blanket, all encompassing—Steve has broad hands but Eddie’s fingers are longer than he’d ever noticed and he—

Steve likes how they fit.

“Under-appreciated, I think,” Eddie’s voice has lowered, softened, and it kinda feels like he’s saying something that has nothing to do with candy bars at all: “because people aren’t looking close enough to see how amazing it is.”

Yeah, for how Eddie’s staring at him, and for how Steve’s pulse has ramped up all of a sudden: Steve doesn’t really think Eddie’s talking about chocolate at all.

___________________

“You’re really good company.”

Eddie turns and blinks Steve’s way.

“What?”

Steve swallows; he’s not sure what made him say it. Except that it’s true.

“I’d have liked it,” he starts, like, expands on the point rather than revisiting the simple part; “if we could have, y’know,” and he gestures between them; “hung out.”

Eddie tilts his head, and he doesn’t smile exactly, but it kinda feels like his whole face, maybe his whole body, is a smile.

“Well,” he huffs a little laugh, like a disbelieving sound; “we’re hanging out, now.”

And Steve smiles the normal way, which is probably lesser to look at, but he wishes really hard that Eddie could, like, slip under his skin and see how it feels on the inside. “Yeah,” Steve grins at the darkness for a second, chews his lips a little, suddenly kinda…bashful, fuck:

“Yeah we are,” and then he breathes in deep, and makes himself be brave with something he doesn’t wholly understand:

“I like it,” and that’s an understatement.

And then Eddie hums, and covers Steve’s hand as he murmurs:

“Me too, sweetheart.”

And Steve’s heartbeat catches on that word, or more, reaches for that word, that name, greedy and wild and it pounds out that same desperate mantra blood-in-blood-out unwavering:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, not—

___________________

Eddie’s smile is so fucking pretty.

He didn’t know what Speed was, like the card game, so they’ve each got a pile balanced on a knee as the flip and they’re pressed up tight at their crossed legs to make a little table from their limbs for the discards and Eddie’s just…

It’s not just his smile.

“My grandpa taught me to play,” Steve comments idly, mostly just for something to say when it looks like they’re stuck and need to flip from the sides.

“It’s chaotic,” Eddie looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, his own fucking glittering when the lack of light should make that impossible but Steve thinks Eddie is kinda impossible so probably it fits.

“I like it,” he proclaims, as he reaches for another card to start the momentum back up, raises an eyebrow at Steve and waits for him to follow suit like he’s the expect, like Steve didn’t fucking just show him this game—

“You would,” Steve snorts and Eddie?

Eddie just beams bigger, and that catches in Steve’s pulse, nudges it to sing something that’s more than just not-dead; that’s more…

That feels more

___________________

It’s the more-feeling that breaks him, in the end.

“You called me big boy.”

Steve doesn’t really have control over his mouth, when it happens. Or else, like, he doesn’t think before the words tumble out, and the lie in the not-water and stare at the absence of the starts in the not-sky.

His heart’s jumped up to his throat, now.

Eddie’s quiet, for a while, even if time doesn’t mean anything here; Eddie’s quiet, and Steve’s heart wants to jump out of his fucking mouth but if it does than it’s got two destinations: it can’t drown in the not-water so that’s fucking useless, and then there’s Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s chest and—

“I,” Eddie finally speaks, and his voice is rough, far away;“I, yeah.”

Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting. He wasn’t planning on saying anything so there weren’t any expectations built in.

“You looked at me,” Steve’s whispering, but it wavers, it moves with the force of his blood; “like you…” Steve licks his lips, swallows a whimper because what is he doing, what is he doing—

“Being almost-dead is really going to take the thunder out of your backlash on this, Harrington,” Eddie cuts into his panic and Steve’s head snaps over to look, to try and read Eddie’s expression: scared. Bracing for impact. Like Steve would, like Steve could ever—

“No, no, I,” Steve raises himself up and scoots over to Eddie, grabs his hands and presses them together in his own, never once looks away from Eddie’s eyes as they stretch wide.

“What did you mean?” because Steve’s started this, and Eddie’s anxious for it and…he needs Eddie to understand he’s not upset, he’s confused, his heart’s all swollen for it, he just, he—

“With the, with calling me that, and with leaning in like you did in the woods,” his breath’s shaking on the exhale: “with all the looks,” and he tries to leave it all in his eyes, on his face, open and clear for all that he doesn’t understand, but also for all that he…that he hopes.

Eventually, Eddie sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut tight, almost like a wince.

But he doesn’t pulls his hands away.

“You’re not stupid, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, even if Eddie can’t see it.

“I’m very stupid.”

And Eddie’s eyes fly open, look wrathful, look offended on…Steve’ behalf, what the fuck?

And yeah, yeah, he’s opening his mouth now to fight him, to fight Steve about Steve and…no. No, that’s not the point.

“I’m stupid,” Steve says again, but quick so he can get it out; “about like,” he tries to find the right words and remembers Robin’s point on it once:

“About, you know, matters of the heart.”

Eddie’s features slacken, and his mouth drops open as he blinks at Steve before he eventually chokes out:

“Heart?”

But Steve can hear it. He can hear the confusion, like his own, but also just like his own:

He thinks he can hear the hope.

“You held that bottle to my throat and all I wanted was for you to lean closer,” he confesses, and it feels amazing, like he can breathe again, or see in color even though there’s so little color, here.

“And slit it?” Eddie croaks, incredulous, still a little slack-jawed and Steve laughs, because he can breathe, and—

“And kiss me, you dick.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, and his eyes somehow get bigger, and his chest’s heaving and Steve wants that not to be for fearing, he wants Eddie to be anything but scared, he wants Eddie to be hoping—

“Stevie,” Eddie barely breathes and…it’s not scared, or else, not like it could be. It’s hesitant. It’s…full, of something Steve thinks might be incredible.

“You call me sweetheart,” Steve leans in, pushes the point, leans more until he’s close enough where he can feel Eddie’s breath on his face; “here. Now.”

Eddie nods immediately, doesn’t try to hide from it.

“Yeah, I do,” he breathes, and watches Steve so careful, unblinking.

“What does it mean,” Steve pushes, angles his lips without even thinking, without making the choice but Eddie?

Eddie makes the choice, and he kisses Steve so fucking sure and sweet and still wild somehow and Steve never wants to not be here. Never wants to not have this mouth under his, never wants to not have Eddie’s hands in his own: he doesn’t wholly understand it, where it comes from or what all it means but…his heart’s fucking dancing, the joy’s almost sore for it’s size and when Steve breathes between them, when they break for half a second to breathe and stare and marvel and Eddie looks like he’s entranced, like he’s overjoyed, and the only other thing here is Steve?

Fuck. Fuck.

If this ends up being death, that’s okay. That’s okay, as long as there’s also this.

___________________

He’s on top of Eddie’s chest, curled so so close, when it starts to feel…different. In his body. Like something pulling him.

The dark is still absolute but it almost feels like they’re on the brink of something, like dawn could come.

Steve fucking hates it.

“I don’t want to die alone,” Eddie whispers against his head, kisses at his hair.

“I don’t want you to die,” Steve grits out, almost violent, because isn’t this how it started, wasn’t that what Eddie meant, that he didn’t want Steve here, too—but Steve won’t accept that.

He cannot fucking accept that.

“I don’t want you to die at all.”

Eddie drags the tip of his nose back and forth against Steve’s hair some more as he breathes, breathes, breathes—

“To die by your side,” Eddie murmurs low; “would be my privilege,” and Steve chokes on a whine, a sob—it’s too much. It’s too much, and he needs this man, he needs him so much, he think he fucking loves hi—

“Maybe it’s not dying,” Steve tries, looks out into the abyss and he can’t see what’s on the way but he feels it; they both feel it: “maybe we’ll,” and he grabs Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“Maybe we’ll wake up.”

Maybe. Maybe.

“Kiss me,” Eddie exhales and Steve pulls back, slides up Eddie’s chest and hovers over him, makes to claim his lips but then Eddie lifts a palm, pauses Steve as he presses it over his racing heart and blinks at him, makes the tears fall from his lashes:

“Kiss me again when we wake up.”

And Steve will, he will, but.

He’s gonna kiss Eddie now, too. He’s going to kiss Eddie always.

He thinks his heart’s going too fast to beat out words but that, in itself, has to mean something that isn’t…death.

So he pours that conviction, and all the hope he’s got left, into Eddie as he devours him, breathes into him like they can melt together, like if Steve’s air lifts Eddie’s lungs they’ll be one person, one living soul and whatever happens…

Whatever happens will take them both.

___________________

Eddie splutters, clutches his chest; his heart’s racing, it feels like his blood’s on fire because every beat fucking burns, and the tear of his shirt where it’s stuck to his skin—dried blood, fucking hell—all up his side is absolutely disgusting, Jesus fuck—

“Eddie!”

He turns and that, that’s Henderson, and he squints; that’s Henderson running toward him, less than a minute away at that pace and Eddie doesn’t know if he can sit up but he’ll try, he digs his fingers into the mud and makes to lift—

And then something crashes into him, pins him right back down.

Covers his hands. Presses.

And he can’t get a word out, can barely fucking breathe before his lips are covered, before he’s being kissed so fucking desperate and giddy and all these feelings being fed straight into him, his heart leaping up in his throat to steal a taste but it doesn’t need to, it doesn’t need to because he feels…he feels it all everywhere, and he looks up and he shakes, he laughs, he’s gonna fucking cry—

“You woke up,” Eddie whispers, marvels, thinks his whole face is going to split open with, with joy and Steve, Steve is here, and he’s smiling back, and he’s breathing and they’re, it’s—

There’s light here. Steve’s eyes are like molten copper, they flicker, they shine.

“Promised,” Steve murmurs close, his lips moving Eddie’s lips with each syllable and the taste is, is…sweet and soft and light and perfect and Eddie almost doesn’t ask because it feels so right, so unquestionable but also he wants, something fierce and unwavering, and he needs to be sure where the water’s real, and the ripples mean something when you shift the whole fucking world, when you feel this big you know it’ll move the earth breathe your feet, so he has to ask:

“That the only reason?”

He still feels the hope from wherever they were, though; he feels it still, here, and he believes in it more in the light, he thinks, and he looks at Steve, takes him in, sees his chest rising and his pulse at the neck: real. Real, and so beautiful, and so, so—

Steve leans and kisses him hard, almost painful but it’s divine, Eddie will bask in the sting of it for the rest of his fucking life if he’s allowed, and then—

Then Steve pulls back and pins him with his eyes, now, fierce and on fire and they steal Eddie’s breath with feeling, with intent as Steve grabs at his shoulders, pulls them flush together and growls against his ear, like a vow almost:

“Only reason?” Steve huffs, shakes his head. “Not even close,” and he drags his lips over Eddie’s skin, catches Eddie’s hair, weaves into Eddie’s heartbeat:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead

in-love, in-love, in-love—

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[bluecollarmcandtf]

"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."

"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.

Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?

"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."

It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!

"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."

The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.

"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."

You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.

Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.

"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."

You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.

"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."

With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?

"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"

Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.

"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.

"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."

Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!

You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.

"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."

No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.

"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"

You sigh in disbelief.

"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."

You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.

"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."

The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?

"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."

One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?

"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."

The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!

Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!

[endomentendo]

Does Wonderland Jax hate water like a cat does?

That kinda depends if you’re able to get him into the water. If he does get wet though, he’ll cheekily hover above you saying: “fair is fair, ya got me. Though, I am sorry to rain on your parade.” And disappear as all the water pours on ya.

[canirove]

Mason Mount Imagine | eight

Author’s note: Just something cute I wrote the other day after seeing this tweet. All credit goes to you, Gianmarco 😅 As always, I hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜 Little summary: You join Mason at the Olympic Games in Paris, where he is Great Britain's flag bearer, and a little accident happens during the opening ceremony🫣 (Female reader/pov)

Masterlist

“How are you feeling?”

“Honestly? I'm shitting myself.”

“C'mon, Mason. You've played in the Champions League and Euros finals and taken and scored decisive penalties for your team. Waving a flag is nothing compared to that” I chuckle.

“This isn't just a flag, love. It is the flag. I am representing my country in the Olympic Games! This is an honour!”

“I know, Mase. I know” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I was just teasing you.”

“Then less teasing and more showing how proud you are of your dearest husband” he says.

“Do you have anything in mind?”

“We could start with a kiss” he smirks. 

“Ok” I smile before kissing him.

“I am gonna miss this so much while I'm away” Mason says against my lips when we break apart. 

“Just my kisses?”

“All of you, love. Everything about you” he says, caressing my cheek. “Wish you could be at the villa with me.”

“I will be with you” I say, taking his hand and showing him his wedding band. “I am always with you.”

“Always” he smiles. 

“So you better be careful with it and don't lose it. Again.”

“I didn't lose it. I just misplaced it” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Mason, the cleaner at Carrington found it while cleaning the changing room. That's losing it, not misplacing it.”

“Meh, meh, meh” he says, pulling me closer. “Can I get another kiss? I need all the luck I can get to not mess it up during the opening ceremony.”

“You can. But” I say, stopping him as he is about to kiss me. “You have to promise me that after the Olympic Games you are getting your wedding band fixed so it fits you properly. It's been almost four years since we got married!”

“I will, I promise. Can we kiss now?”

“Fine” I sigh. “But only because I love you.”

“I love you too” he smiles, that dimple of his showing before we kiss.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“This is amazing, bro!” 

“It is, isn't it? I still can't believe this is happening!” Mason says as he waves the British flag, people cheering as their boat cruises through the Seine. 

“If you get tired I can help you” Luke says. 

“I can do this. They chose me for a reason.”

“Yes, because you are the pretty one” Declan says, making everyone around them laugh. 

“It's a shame it won't show up on camera with the rain, tho” Luke says. “Right now we all look like drowned rats. You included, Mason.”

“But even while being soaking wet, he is the pretty one” Declan sighs.

“Sorry” Mason smiles, taking a rest from waving the flag. It may look easy and he may have trained to do it, but he had started to struggle a bit and they still were half way through the parade.

“Bro, look! That's where the girls are!” Declan says, waving towards a group of people with British flags.

“Can you recognize anyone?” Mason asks him, looking for his wife. She had said she would be carrying a flag with his face on it that she had found online God knows how, that she would be hard to miss. But neither of them were expecting for the weather to be that bad, and he could barely see what was going on in front of his nose.

“Not really. But if we don't wave at them, they will get mad.”

“They will, yes” Mason chuckles, joining everyone else. And then… he sees it. The flag with his face on it, someone jumping like crazy behind it. “Over there, Dec!” he says, now waving and moving his arm from side to side so he gets to be seen among all his teammates. 

And when he sends his wife a kiss, moving his arm with maybe too much intensity… 

“No!”

“Bro, are you ok?” Declan asks him.

“My wedding band!” Mason says.

“What?”

It was gone. Forever.

He had first felt it move on his finger, slipping from it. And when he had looked at it to somehow try to put it back in place, it was already flying, hitting the side of the boat before sinking on the Seine. 

“My wedding band, Dec. I've lost it.”

“You what?”

“She's gonna kill me. She's gonna fucking kill me. She's…”

“Mason, relax” Declan said, putting his hands on his friend's shoulders. “It is just a ring.”

“It isn't just a ring, Dec! It is my fucking wedding band and I lost it! I… I…”

“Breathe, Mason. Breathe.”

“It's over. My marriage is over.”

“She isn't gonna ask you for a divorce just because you lost a ring. Not even if it is one as important as this one” Declan says. “But we have to come out with a plan so you don't spend the rest of the year sleeping on the sofa.”

“A plan?”

“Leave this to me, ok? You just worry about waving that flag and acting normal.”

“But…”

“Waving, Mason. Waving” Declan says.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

masonmount: I'm sorry, love. I am so sorry. I know I should have gotten it fixed a long time ago like you always told me to. I know. But that, plus the fact that I was soaking wet and everything was a bit slippery, and that I got too excited after seeing you cheering for me as our boat sailed past where you were… and it was gone. My wedding band was gone. I saw it leave my finger, hit the boat and then disappear under the water all in slow motion. It probably lasted just a few seconds, but as I held my breath, it felt like an eternity. But if I'm being honest, better to lose it there than somewhere else, like at a random changing room. How is that any better, you may be asking yourself? Because I lost it while representing the country I love during the biggest sporting event in the world, and all thanks to the sport I love. Because the sign of our love, will now forever be part of the city of love. Though that sign of our love is missing its other half, so wouldn't it be romantic if we went there once the Olympic Games are over and threw your ring into the water too? Let them be together forever just like you and I will always be? And you always say that even though our wedding was perfect despite the circumstances (covid days), you wish you could have had everyone you love with us. So maybe this is our sign to renew our vows and throw that big party you always wanted?  Once again, I'm sorry, love.  I love you ♥️

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“This is the spot?”

“Yep” Mason says. “Right in front of where you guys were waiting for us. It is a lovely place, don't you think? And there is a hotel over there. We could come here each year and remember what happened, make it a tradition.”

“Oh, because after your Instagram post, I will easily forget about everything that has happened, will I?” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm sorry, ok? But Declan thought it was a good idea. That by making it public as kind of a declaration of love, you would be less mad and disappointed with me.”

“I mean, what you said was beautiful, so if you had texted me all that, maybe. But you are freaking Mason Mount. That post has gone viral to the point that it made it to the news and people have offered to go into the river to look for the ring.”

“I’m sorry, love. Je suis désolé.”

“Talking to me in French won't make it any better?”

“What if I say voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?” he smirks.

“You are not making it better, Mason.”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love. I truly truly am” he says, putting a lock of hair behind my ear and caressing my cheek. Which is cheating, because he knows I go weak at the knees every time he does it, and that staying mad at him after is almost impossible. Especially if he does it while smiling and making the dimple on his left cheek pop like it is happening right now.

“I know you are” I sigh. “Now, let's get done with this crazy idea of yours before I regret it. Or was it Declan's?”

“Throwing your ring into the river was all me” he chuckles. 

“Anyway…” I say, taking off first my engagement ring and then my wedding band.

“Do you want me to hold that one for you? I promise I will take care of it as if my life depended on it.”

“Your life does depend on it” I say, putting it on his palm and closing his hand around it. 

“God, you are so scary when you get serious like that…”

“Good” I smile. “Now, how do I do it? Do I say some words before throwing it or…”

“I don't know” Mason shrugs. “Just do whatever feels right.”

“Nothing about throwing my wedding band into the Seine feels right. But…” I say, turning to look at the river when I see him rolling his eyes. “I know you will find him. Just like us, you are meant to be together. Goodbye” I whisper to the ring before throwing it with as much strength as I can so it makes it to where his ring supposedly is. “Done. Now wha… Mason!” I gasp when I look back at him and see him on one knee. “What… what are you doing?”

“Remember what I said on my Instagram post about renewing our vows?”

“I… I do.”

“Well, for us to do that, I should probably ask you to marry me first, shouldn't I?”

“Mason, we are already married” I chuckle.

“Are we? Because I don't see any ring on your hand, and I don't have one either” he says, moving his fingers and looking at them as if they were something he hadn't seen before, making me laugh. “So, with the city of love as our witness… Would you do me the immense honour of marrying me?”

“Again.”

“Yes, again” he sighs. 

“Only if you promise me one thing. No, two.”

“Fine…” he sighs again.

“One, that we will go together to get our wedding bands measured and will make sure they both fit perfectly, and that we will get something like a cute box or little pouch for you to put yours and keep it safe while you are playing.”

“I promise.”

“And two…”

“Wait, weren't those two things already?” he asks with a confused look.

“No, that was just one. And two…” I say, leaning forward towards him. “You have to promise me that we are going to throw the biggest party ever, one that won't end until the sun comes out.”

“I promise you, my love. People will take a week to recover from it.”

“Good” I smile. “Then with the city of love as our witness… Yes. I will marry you again, Mason” I say, extending my hand. 

“Perfect” he smiles back, standing up once the ring is back in my finger. “May I kiss you now, my love? My fiancée?” he smirks, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer towards him. 

“You may, my love. My fiancé” I chuckle before kissing him, people suddenly clapping and cheering around us. 

“Oh, shit” he says, stopping his kiss to look around. “Looks like we have an audience.”

“Do you think they know who we are?” I whisper.

“Maybe? I don't know. But” he says, looking back at me. “If they do, I think we should give them a proper kiss. One movie worth it and that becomes even more viral than my Instagram post.”

“Mason…” I say, his cheeky smile letting me know that he is planning something I will definitely regret later.

“Hold tight, my love” he says before kissing me like they always do in movies, by somehow twisting me and leaning me back, holding me down while one of my legs in the air to allow me to keep my balance. “I love you. Now and always” he says against my lips, our little crowd cheering again.

“I love you too, Mason. Now and always” I say before kissing him again.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

masonmount: I did it (again). And she said yes (again)

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

masonmount: Mr & Ms Mount 2.0 How it started. How it went. How it ended.

[lucifersresources]

my chemical romance // the black parade rp meme. edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!  

the end.

come one, come all, to this tragic affair.

what's in is despair.

you might wake up and notice you're someone you're not.

if you look in the mirror & don't like what you see, you can find out first hand what it's like to be me.

find out first hand what it's like to be me.

kiss this goodbye.

i'd encourage your smiles, i'll expect you won't cry.

you won't cry.

here's my resignation, i'll serve it in drag.

you've got front row seats.

you've got front row seats to the penitence ball.

when i grow up i want to be nothing at all.

i want to be nothing at all.

save me.

get me the hell out of here.

too young to die.

if you can hear me, just walk away.

dead.

did you get what you deserve?

did you get what you deserve? the ending of your life.

if you get to heaven i'll be here waiting.

your heart can't take this.

have you heard the news that you're dead?

no one ever had much nice to say.

they never liked you anyway.

wouldn't it be great if we were dead?

you never fell in love.

is that the most the both of you can give?

it life ain't just a joke, then why are we laughing?

why am i dead?

this is how i disappear.

drain all the blood and give the kids a show.

there's things that i have done you never should ever know.

without you is how i disappear.

without you is how i disappear and live my life alone, forever now.

let me if it's so, that all the good girls go to heaven.

can you hear me cry out to you?

words i thought i'd choke on, figure out.

i'm really not so with you anymore.

i'm just a ghost.

i can't hurt you anymore.

i'm just a ghost, so i can't hurt you anymore.

you wanna see how far down i can sink?

let me go.

i'm so far away from you.

the sharpest lives.

it rains & it pours when you're out on your own.

i've spent the night dancing, i'm drunk i suppose.

if it looks like i'm laughing, i'm really just asking to leave.

you're in time for the show.

you're the one that i need.

i'm the one that you loathe.

you're the one that i need, i'm the one that you loathe.

you can watch me corrode like a beast in repose.

i love all the poison.

i've really been on a bender and it shows.

blow me a kiss.

give me a shot to remember.

you can take all the pain away from me.

your kiss, and i will surrender.

the sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead.

a light to burn all the empires.

the sun is ashamed to rise.

the sun is ashamed to rise and be in love with all of these vampires.

you can leave like the sane abandoned me.

there's a place in the dark where the animals go.

you can take off your skin.

juliet loves the beat & the lust it commands.

drop the dagger.

drop the dagger & lather the blood on your hands.

welcome to the black parade.

would you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten, and the damned?

will you defeat them, your demons?

one day i'll leave you.

one day, i'll leave you, a phantom.

sometimes i get the feeling she's watching over me.

i feel like i should go.

when you're gone, we want you all to know, we'll carry on.

we'll carry on.

your memory will carry on.

in my heart, i can't contain it.

the anthem won't explain it.

your misery & hate will kill us all.

paint it black & take it back.

let's shout it loud & clear.

defiant to the end.

we hear the call to carry on.

though you're broken & defeated, your weary widow marches on.

on & on we carry through the fear.

take a look at me, coz i could not care at all.

do or die, you'll never make me.

the world will never take my heart.

go & try, you'll never break me.

we wanna play this part.

i won't explain or say i'm sorry.

i'm unashamed.

i'm unashamed, i'm gonna show my scar.

give a cheer for all the broken.

it's who we are.

just a man, i'm not a hero.

i'm not a hero.

i don't love you.

don't ever think i'll make you try to stay.

when you go, don't ever think i'll make you try to stay.

maybe when you get back i'll be off to find another way.

i'll be off to find another way.

you're still a good-for-nothing.

get out.

better get out while you can.

when you go and would you even turn to say 'i don't love you like i did yesterday'?

i don't love you like i did yesterday.

sometimes i cry so hard from pleading.

so sick & tired of all the needless beating.

when they knock you down & out is where you oughta stay.

fix your eyes & get up.

house of wolves.

i know a thing about contrition.

i'll be granting your permission.

let the spirit come on through you.

we got innocence for days.

i think i'm gonna burn in hell.

say what i wanna say.

tell me i'm an angel.

take this to my grave.

tell me i'm a bad man, kick me like a stray.

ashes to ashes, we all fall down.

you better run like the devil.

you better run like the devil coz they're never gonna leave you alone.

they're never gonna leave you alone.

you better hide up in the alley.

they're never gonna find you a home.

as the blood runs down the walls, you see me creeping up these halls.

i've been a bad motherfucker.

mama.

we all go to hell.

i'm writing this letter & wishing you well.

we're all gonna die.

stop asking me questions.

i'd hate to see you cry.

when we go, don't blame us.

we'll let the fires just bathe us.

you made us oh so famous.

we'll never let you go.

when you go, don't return to me, my love.

we're all full of lies.

we're meant for the flies.

right now they're building a coffin your size.

i should've been a better son.

you ain't no son of mine for what you've done.

there's shit that i've done with this fuck of a gun, you would cry out your eyes all along.

we're damned after all.

through fortune & flame, we fall.

if you can stay then i'll show you the way.

return from the ashes.

raise your glass high, for tomorrow we die.

sleep.

it feels like-- as if somebody was gripping my throat.

walk away a saviour.

i'm undeserving of your sympathy.

there ain't no way that i'm sorry for what i did.

i'm sorry for what i did.

through it all, how could you cry for me?

i don't feel bad about it.

kiss me goodbye.

just sleep.

the hardest part is letting go of your dreams.

a drink for the horror that i'm in.

a drink for the monsters that i've been.

three cheers for tyranny.

there ain't no way that i'm coming back again.

sometimes i see flames.

sometimes i see the people that i love dying.

i can't ever wake up.

teenagers.

they're gonna clean up your looks.

make a citizen out of you.

they can watch.

the drugs never work.

they got methods of keeping you clean.

they're gonna rip up your heads.

another cog in the murder machine.

teenagers scare the living shit out of me.

darken your clothes.

maybe they'll leave you alone.

you're never gonna fit in much.

what you got under your shirt will make them pay for the things that they did.

make them pay for the things that they did.

disenchanted.

we watched our lives on the screen.

i hate the ending.

i hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene.

it started with an alright scene.

it was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing.

it was a lie.

it was a lie when they smiled & said 'you won't feel a thing'.

we ran from the cops.

we laughed so hard it would sting.

as we ran from the cops, we laughed so hard it would sting.

i'm so wrong.

if i'm so wrong, how can you listen all night long?

can you listen?

can you listen all night long?

how can you listen all night long?

will it matter after i'm gone?

you never learned.

you never learned a goddamn thing.

you're just a sad song.

you're just a sad song with nothing to say.

this never meant nothing to you.

you think that i'm wrong.

i spent my high school career spit on and shoved to agree.

bring out the old guillotine.

we'll show em what we all mean.

go, run away.

where did you run to?

where did you hide?

go find another way.

famous last words.

i know that i can't make you stay.

where's your heart?

there's nothing i can say.

there's nothing i can say to change that part.

is it hard understanding i'm incomplete?

i'm incomplete.

a life that's so demanding... i get so weak.

i get so weak.

a love that's so demanding... i can't speak.

i am not afraid.

i am not afraid to keep on living.

i am not afraid to walk this world alone.

honey, if you stay, you'll be forgiven.

you'll be forgiven.

nothing you can say can stop me going home.

i'm out here on the other side.

i'm so weak.

a love that's so demanding... i get weak.

these bright lights have always blinded me.

i see you lying next to me.

i see you lying next to me with words i thought i'd never speak.

words i thought i'd never speak.

awake and unafraid.

asleep, or dead?

blood.

they encourage your complete cooperation.

they think you need to smile.

i can't control myself.

i'll be here.

i'll be here for a while.

give them blood.

give them all that they can drink.

it will never be enough.

they can fix me proper with a bit of luck.

they adore me so.

i'm such an awful fuck.

i'm the kind of human wreckage that you love.

it has never been enough.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

This is a small grumble about Lovestruck and I don't want to rain on anyone's parade, so cut for those who'd rather pass by it.

The more I learn about the gameplay/dating/relationship/whatever mechanics of Lovestruck, the less convinced I am that I'd ever want this pack. I love the cas, liked what comparatively little there was of build. But in terms of the main selling point? You could offer it to me free and I'd probably go "nah, I'm good."

Admittedly this is an issue I have with family dynamics in Growing Together, so not exclusive to Lovestruck. But why do people have to have a steamy or wholesome dynamic? Why not both? I know it's just the Sims and I've always been one that sees the game as existing in its own 'magical realism' style world rather than an exact replica of ours. Real world couples can have both and more of those dynamics though, in much the same way that two people in a family can be close and supportive and jokesters at the same time.

Also the romance styles or whatever they're called, none of them I can see being turn-offs, orrrr at least only being turn-offs in a certain context. Gift giving in moderation wouldn't be a turn-off for me, but if it reaches the point where it feels like someone is trying to buy my affection or using it in place of addressing actual relationship issues, then yeah.

And don't get me started on colours being turn offs. I'm sorry but I can't date you - you're wearing an orange shirt. Clearly you're going to be stuck with that for the rest of your life and it's a complete deal breaker etc...

[maul-of-shame]

"Rúsëa", An Elrond/Galadriel Fic

Okay so now that I know there is a Elrond/Galadriel community (I love you babes), here is my first Galrond/Elondriel fic offering!

Written in-between exams, too short for my own good (4k something is short for me) but hey it is better than nothing!

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories:

F/M

Gen

Fandom:

The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022)

Relationships:

Elrond Peredhel & Galadriel

Elrond Peredhel/Galadriel

Characters:

Elrond Peredhel

Galadriel (Tolkien)

Halbrand (The Rings of Power) but bitch is just mentioned

Additional Tags:

Friends to Lovers

Shut Up Kiss

Rough Kissing

Tolkien I'm not sorry

The Rings of Power Season 2 made me do it

Bestie it's a Galadriel/Elrond fic so if you don't ship it don't read this

Elrond Peredhel Needs a Hug

Caring Elrond Peredhel

Protective Elrond Peredhel

Hurt Elrond Peredhel

BAMF Elrond Peredhel

Feral Elrond Peredhel

Awesome Galadriel (Tolkien)

BAMF Galadriel (Tolkien)

Protective Galadriel (Tolkien)

These two need to GET IT OUT

smh

The Author Regrets Nothing

no beta we die like men

the girls are fightiiiiing

Light Angst

Language: English

Note: Alright, as I so kindly mentioned in my fic, I am 3000000000% here for the sparks flying between Elrond and Galadriel. And no amount of “uwu it’s not canon” is gonna rain on my parade.

I get it, some of you might be clutching your copies of The Silmarillion like, “But it’s not canon!”, "THIS WOULD NEVER HAPPEN" etc etc.

Well, guess what? I don’t care.

No fucks given.

Bare thy eyes upon the vast, barren lands in which I grow my fucks—and behold!! It is desolate! Not a single fuck to be found.

Unless Tolkien himself bursts through the veil of time and space, pissed-off ghost-style, to personally tell me to stop, this ship’s setting sail (and even if he did, no guarantee I would stop shipping it LMAO).

So if you’re here to tell me what’s canon and what’s not, save it.

We’ve got elves, magic rings, and immortal wizards—so I think I’m allowed a little creative freedom with heavy tension, physical contact, touch starved Elves and sexy elf banter, okay?

ANYWAY- Hope you like it peeps!!

[unionizedwizard]

damn i can't believe i got GUNKED WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO thank you @gunktuationmark. time to inflict music upon you all. this is going to be LONG. no choice. suffer me.

Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people. (all the links are youtube links because we hate spotify in this house)

U: Ulysse - Nino Ferrer. you even get a (homebrew) translation (with some poetic license. because i said so) (i even downloaded the reference english translation of a 17th century verse collection to make sure my translation was as accurate as possible. okay.)

Odysseus was a strong, handsome young man who wanted to see the world

And he ran on the sea, ceaselessy, with this rage burning within him, towards the setting sun

And days and nights and months and years flew away under the stem, the journey never ended

Then one september morning at 7am, on an island or another, Odysseus found

A cracked mirror shard that a princess had lost

And then he looked his own face in the eyes, and saw that he was old, and alone, and naked

And then he started dreaming of all the lost days, still looking at the faraway skyline that seemed to taunt him, so near and yet so far

"Futile, all is futile

We busy ourselves, we're fleas

Futile, all is futile

Hopeless, all is a farce

Where does the sun set and where have all the mysteries gone, with their beautiful sorcereresses?

I can't believe in the gods no more and I don't hope for love and all my friends are dead and the game goes on still

And still I keep on rolling on the sea, taking me to the end day, the point of no return

I can't scream my rage or desire no more, I feel tired, emptied of want

And out of breath like an old dog chasing after the wind;

Singing availeth you not; now you must die"

Thus quoth Odysseus on an empty beach before boarding for his last trip

Through the bitter pitter-patter of time's waters, towards the setting sun

Joined by his friends, all singing while they rowed:

"Futile, all is futile

We busy ourselves, we're fleas

Futile, all is futile

Hopeless, all is a farce"

N: No Other Name - cover by Youn Sun Nah

I: Intranquillité - Chrisine and the Queens

O: O Fortuna - Carl Orff. sorry i'm legally compelled to add this one

N: November Rain - Guns N' Roses (literally the only song of theirs i know. i'm an impostor)

I: It - Genesis (when you eat right through it you see everything alive it is inside spirit with enough grit to survive) (and so on and so forth)

Z: Ziggy Stardust - David Bowie (out of the 4 Z songs in my library...)

E: Europop - The Divine Comedy

D: Dancing With The Moonlight Knight - Genesis

W: Walpurgis - William Sheller (another one i translated ages ago but i think this post is long enough as it is)

I: I Am A Rock - Simon & Garfunkel

Z: Zaza - Thomas Fersen

A: A Horse With No Name - America

R: Relâche - William Sheller (Parade Au Cirque Royal version). youtube gave the wrong title to this track. The album version is there

D: Don't Cross The River - America

tagging @elizabethrobertajones @cherry-blossomtea @tobyfoxmademeascaly @wine-dark-soup @arcaneoddity @gazouillisclaquant @jorjor-wel @coralloid @wandringaesthetic @vesperaevis @emcapi-gaming and @darkmollusc ! and whoever wants to do it (:

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

This is a story from the current collection event. Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

I slowly pulled my hair up to signal him and called his name.

Today, I waited on top of the tower for my beloved to arrive.

.......

One day, when the sky was clear and far away, he suddenly appeared.

???: "Whoa! I've been wondering about what kind of treasure this tower holds, but I never expected to find a gorgeous princess here."

(A man!?)

It seemed that the man had climbed up through my hair, dangling from the balcony, right before my mom showed up.

I tensed up, surprised, but he just laughed cheerfully.

Mitsuki: "Sorry to rain on your parade, but I'm not a princess, and there's no treasure here."

???: "Heh, you're surprisingly feisty. I like it."

Drake: "I'm Francis Drake, a pirate. Right now, I've anchored my ship in the harbor beyond this forest."

Drake: "Wait, saying I'm a pirate might make you more scared. Anyway, nice to meet you."

From then on, he became interested in me and would frequently climb the tower using my hair.

At first, I was cautious, but over time, I grew comfortable with his friendly nature.

Drake: "I managed to crawl up the cliff from the bottom of the ravine, and that's how Captain Drake narrowly escaped danger."

Mitsuki: "Hehe, that's so cool. Your tales are more interesting than any books in this room."

Drake would tell me funny stories about what happened during his voyages.

Even though I'd only ever known life in the tower, his stories filled me with a thrilling sense of adventure.

Mitsuki: "I'd also love to go to the sea."

Drake: "Shall I take you there someday?"

He suddenly lifted my hand, and my heart skipped a beat.

Drake: "You've been in this tower since you can remember, right?"

Mitsuki: "Yes. My mother told me never to leave this tower because the outside world is dangerous."

Drake: "Living in this tower without any troubles might seem peaceful, but to me, it feels like being in a cage."

Drake: "Are you sure you want to stay like this forever, Mitsuki?"

Mitsuki: "I..."

His unwavering gaze felt like it could peer into my heart.

(To be honest, I want to go outside. And if possible, I'd like to go with him.)

I felt happy whenever he came to see me. And as I listened to his stories, my heart started to long for more.

(But am I even allowed to be with him?)

As I hesitated to answer, Drake let out a faint smile.

Drake: "Sorry. I shouldn't have expected you to reply immediately. I just want to hear your feelings before I go."

Mitsuki: "Before you go?"

Drake: "Actually, I'm set to depart tomorrow."

Mitsuki: "........"

With a hint of regret, Drake tightly held my hand.

Drake: "I'm glad I met you, Mitsuki. Take care."

Our hands, once intertwined, gently separated.

I cried that night, remembering his goodbye, and my mom found out that I had met him.

The following day, the sky went wild, almost like my mom's fury had called a storm.

(It's raining heavily. Did he already set sail?)

I couldn't see the ocean from the tower, and the heavy rain and strong winds just made me even more anxious. Helpless, I prayed for his safety, but then, suddenly—

Drake: "Hup! Phew, I finally made it."

Mitsuki: "Drake!? How did you manage to get here without my hair?"

Drake: "Haha, don't underestimate a pirate."

Despite being completely drenched, he crossed the balcony railing and showed me a grappling hook, grinning.

Drake: "I couldn't give up on the treasure, so I took advantage of the storm to snatch you, princess."

(He went through the storm for me.)

Mitsuki: "But Drake, I..."

At that moment, Drake cupped my cheeks with both hands and silenced me with a kiss.

When his wet lips parted from mine, his clear eyes reflected mine.

Drake: "Don't say anything. I'll take your hesitations, your heart, everything."

Drake: "I want you, so entrust yourself to me completely, Mitsuki."

His face came closer again, and this time, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him closer.

(Even if there's a storm ahead, I won't be afraid as long as he's with me.)

Amid the raging storm, I felt my heart fill with excitement as I looked forward to the new adventure with him.

Fin.

[waywardsou2]

I'm sorry to rain on Jean and Scotts parade here but for fuck's sake I am so sick and fucking tired of real love being connected to a baby.

I think it's cute and all that they finally got to have a kid and have their happy family

But "Nathan is a reminder of the purest love two can share" Like come the fuck on Jean. For fuck's sake people can still be in love to the 10th degree and a baby doesn't have to be involved.

I am so fucking sick of the message that true and complete love comes when two people have a baby.

Love is still true if it's just two, love is still true if it's not familial, love is still true if it's a dude and a kitten he rescued. I'm so tired of "real" and "true" love coming from people making a baby.

Just fuck off with that already

I know I probably seem horrible and heartless but I am fucking sick of this.

I never plan to have a baby, and I can't get anyone pregnant, but that doesn't mean that my love for my future partner isn't as true as people who decide to have a kid.

Kids are not the only way to show that your love is "true" and you don't need kids to be a family.

The baby is not like some medal that makes love between two people official, and I wish people would stop saying it is. Babies are not trophies and babies are not necessary for a relationship

For Pete fucking sake I am so done with this bullshit

As much as I love Jean and Scott this is why Logan will always be my favorite because the most important people to him are FOUND family. He doesn't need all that other stereotypical bullshit to be happy and he's a good representation of that for others.

I'm sick of "real" love being a man, a woman and their kid(s)

Sorry for my rant. I just...I get tired of this message always being so prevalent. Because it's not relatable to all and I wish there was more diversity on this in the foreground.

And I don't mean to say that the traditional family is bad. That's not what I'm trying to say. I just don't have a lot of luck with family and I get tired of it being the main message of shows like these. Because family isn't everything, but that's never the main message in a romance scenario.

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires- Part 8

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1000

Masterlist

I waited a while to ask you on a second date. I did that on purpose. For one, I knew you were busy and I didn't want you to have to say no to me. But also, I was busy myself. A new Stephen King book came out last week, and Mooney's has been a never ending parade of idiots who don't even read, but want to own the newest King, anyway.

It's three weeks later. We're in the back of a cab.

You're nervous, which is understandable.

I kept a book to the side, just for you. I was going to give it to you when we met up earlier, but then I realized you'd have to carry it around all day, so I decided to give it to you later.

We never ended up walking through New York together. We got too distracted just talking to each other. So when I texted you last weekend, my plan was to ask you to go on a walk with me. I had it all planned out. I know which routes you've walked, mostly, and was pretty confident I’d come up with a route you'd never think to follow on your own. But before I could bring up this plan, you said:

YOU: i kinda have a work thing soon

YOU: we're allowed +1s tho

YOU: wanna come?

ME: …Well, what kind of work thing?

A music festival, is what kind of thing. Apparently, your boss is one of the main sponsors.

Festivals aren't your kind of crowd, and you don't want to go, and I think you're regretting inviting me along.

It's not even your kind of music, this festival. It's not Guns ‘n Roses or Muse or Prince, which is what you put on at the café when the crowd finally started to thin. You smiled at me meekly and told me you're a poser - “I kind of only know Purple Rain, I'm that kind of Prince fan” - and I told you I consider Prince to be one of the great poets of our generation.

“Prince was born in 1958,” you'd said to me. I was surprised you knew that. “I wouldn't say he's ‘of our generation’.”

A poser wouldn't know that, (Y/n). You give yourself far too little credit.

Anyway, the music at this festival is mostly new pop, which I hate and which I know you hate. You're fiddling with your beanie (not black this time but mustard yellow) like it's your armor and you're wearing black jeans and a red knitted top (no bra, I can tell, and you want me to notice this) and red converse. Your nails are painted black, but the polish is already chipped because you keep picking at it.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“I hate that this is happening on a Sunday,” you tell me. “Like, hello? We all have to work tomorrow.”

I nod.

“I'm sorry. I promise I'll be more fun, later,” you say. “I'm just not great with this stuff. I don't exactly go out to parties or anything.”

Which is the truth. I know this about you. You spend your weekends at home, reading or watching Netflix. Last night, you stayed up until three am and watched the old Planet of the Apes movies on your laptop. I could hear the sound from across the street, because you had your windows all the way open again.

“Was going to this thing mandatory?” I ask.

“I guess not, but I'm still sort of new and I feel bad saying no.”

“That's understandable.”

“Are you into festivals?”

“Not at all.”

“We don't have to stay very late, if we don't want to.”

NADIA: Omg good luck 😭

You take out your phone. You're texting someone and laughing and I don't like it, but then you lean over to show me and it's just Nadia. She's sent you a photo of a T-shirt that says ‘Sorry, I'm overstimulated’. I love that you are involving me.

You answer back: me and joe have to survive loud music today wish us luck

I like Nadia. She doesn't even hesitate to reply to your English message in English, because she knows I'm reading along.

“She seems like a good friend,” I say.

“Best friend in the world,” you answer. “We basically grew up together.”

“How does that work? Isn't she from Belgium?”

A pause. You're trying to remember if you told me that. You haven't, but I don't say anything and eventually you come to the conclusion that you must have.

“So, we lived in a border town,” you explain to me. “When we were kids, she lived on the Belgian side and I lived on the Dutch side, but we also lived on the same street.”

“Huh,” is all I say.

“Yeah.”

You shoot off another text and then you put your phone away. You turn your body to me to show me I have your full attention, and you take my hand.

I could kiss you right now. You'd let me.

“My coworkers can be a bit much,” you say.

“Understood.”

“They're all very opinionated. Especially when they've been drinking. It's best to just agree with them.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” you say.

You fiddle with your hat again. I put my hand on top of yours to stop you, then fiddle with your hat for you.

“You look great,” I say.

You're flattered. You're blushing.

“Thank you. So do you.”

I'm wearing jeans and a white shirt, and an old belt I got from a thrift shop. Nothing special. Yet you really mean it. You put your hand on my arm and you look at me and it's not just that I could kiss you. I want to. I really do. I want to say fuck this festival and take you home and watch old movies with you and fuck you until you forget your name.

The cab stops. We're here.

“Here goes nothing,” you say.

[luckyladylily]

Well Din didn't formally challenge Moff Gideon, he didn't even know what the dark saber was in any detail or that it was a thing you could challenge someone over. He stumbled into rightful ownership like an excessively violent Mister Magoo.

Though I do think there is another possible explanation, which is that the fight was not honorable on the part of the cyborg as it was an ambush. But that does call into question how Moff Gideon got it, seeing as he is never shown to fight fair on screen once, which is expected because he is a commander, not a duelist. Even his fight with Din started with deception and sneak attack, I doubt he dueled the previous owner in a fair fight.

I just hope they actually have a good reason on hand for why Bo didn't immediately challenge Din to a duel back in season 2, though I honestly can't see what that would be. If the duel does not have to be to the death, unless she genuinely thought she could not win in such a duel there is no reason for her to not have done so that I can think of.

i think that by making Bo and Din close they are building up tension for the moment that eventually Bo will have to challenge him for the darksaber if she wants to become ruler again 🤔🤔 (which seems very likely considering that she kept the mythosaur thing to herself)