#The amen brother break

[thestonecuttersguild]

Wordz Of Wizdom II

[pricklylittleloaf]

That Ghanaian guy playing the hell out of those clacky items is such a fuckin jam, pure Amen Break feels; need more

[anitosoul]

History

[crowfeathers]

cant experience the full spectrum of emotions that is my 60s-70s escapism bc my shitty victrola vinyl player doesn’t work anymore >:(

I’m using the right cord and the power won’t turn on so I know it’s a hardware issue and I’ll have to send it in for repairs

[supportgaza]

Help Me Evacuate my Family from Gaza and Reunite with them in Ireland

Note: My main account (@mahmoudkhalafff) was unfortunately brought down.

In the midst of the chaos engulfing the region and the receding in media coverage, you might be misled to think the horrific war in Gaz*a has stopped. However, it breaks my heart to tell you that if anything, it only moves from bad to WORSE. Committing massacres against defenseless civilian families and children has become the ordinary instead of the horrific unordinary.

Unfortunately, the massacres and the mass destruction of our beloved Gaz*a have it into a pile of rubble and rendered the dreams and hopes of people as baseless, far-fetched, meaningless, and unrealistic daydreaming.

I was displaced with my big family five times in Gaz*a and escaped imminent death multiple times before I was evacuated to Ireland five months into the war and I can tell you from my firsthand experience that the situation in Gaz*a is beyond hellish. Can you even bear to imagine that Lifeless corpses of so many children are brought out from under the rubble of their bombed houses almost every day?!

I hate to admit that I never imagined I was this weak. I don’t have the courage or strength to bring the corpses of my future children from under the rubble in Gaza one day. I shudder and blood freezes in my veins when I imagine what could happen to my parents, brothers, sisters and their children while I am in a safe place too far away.

Therefore, I have the moral obligation to do everything in my power to secure a NORMAL, safe, and dignified life for them here. Please know exactly what you are contributing to by boosting my campaign. You are helping a Gaza family reunite in Ireland after their lives and dreams have been viciously crushed by the horrific war. And, sadly, the worst is yet to come!

After consulting the Irish Refugee Council and Doras in Ireland and Palestinian families who managed to reunite in Ireland, I know for certain that THERE IS HOPE!

Please do consider helping me save my family by donating, reblogging, and sharing.

Note: Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

Please consider boosting my campaign and help me reunite with my family in Ireland! <3

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ibtisams @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @sayruq @fairuzfan @sar-soor @fallahifag @humanvoicebox

@plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @stil-lindigo @soon-palestine @communistchilchuck @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45-helping-others @kyra45 @feluka @appsa @schoolhater @irhabiya @transmutationisms @ibtisams @malcriada @flower-tea-fairies

@baby-girl-aaron-dessner @dlxxv-vetted-donations @troythecatfish

@rebecca-levin-art @ana-bananya @vakarians-babe @mangocheesecakes

@lonniemachin @neechees @wolfertinger666

@vakarians-babe

@punkitt-is-here @dlxxv-vetted-donations

@dlxxvetted-donations2 @autismswagsummit @detectivehole

@orriculum @archerinventive @georgiansuggestion

@yourplayersaidwhat @stickyfrogs @dashcon-two

@aromanticofficial @historical-fashion-polls

@whipjack @ameliasom

[truethornsmusic]

Dyingpharaohs.com

[louiseolivier]

08x06 Delulu

Tevan are at the Italian restaurant. The Hot Waiter flirts with Buck. Buck's kinda oblivious. He unintentionally flirts back. Buck pays this time, and inside the folder with his card and receipt is Hot Waiter's phone number. Buck is a little weirded out because he feels like it's obvious he and Tommy are on a date.

For the most part, Tommy watches Buck and Hot Waiter's interaction in amusement. He jokes whether Buck is he's going to call him, and Buck is taken aback. Then Tommy gets serious.

"We haven't really talked about the kind of relationship you want."

Buck's confused. "What does that mean?"

"Just that there's more than one way to be in a relationship. I've been in a couple that were open."

"Open?"

"We were allowed to sleep with other people."

"I know what it means, Tommy. Is that what you want?"

"I want you to be happy. I want you to know I'm amenable to that if you're interested. Truth be told, Evan, the most important thing is that you're in my life, whether we’re together or not. 

Suddenly, the Ironside siren goes off in Buck’s head, and he’s spiraling.  

Tommy clasps his hand and looks at him like he’s the goddamn sun, moon, and stars. “Think about it. It’s not like it’s something you have to decide today.”

Cue Buck, going to Bobby. “I don’t know what to tell you, Buck, but I’ve seen you two together. I don’t think breaking up is something Tommy is even thinking about. The other stuff...you should talk to Tommy. Be upfront. Be honest. 

Cue Buck, going to Maddie. “Buck, he kissed you while you were still covered in boils. I saw that with my own eyes and wished I hadn’t. I don’t want to put words in his mouth, but he does seem very committed to you. And to be perfectly honest, the open relationship doesn’t sound like something he’d suggest out of thin air. Maybe you said something...”

“You’re blaming me? Come on, Maddie! You know damn well that’s not how I roll. I slept around, yeah, but not while I was in a relationship - and don’t you dare bring up Taylor! Besides, an agreed upon “open” means consensual. I just - how did I miss that this was something he was interested in? Why would he wait six months to bring it up?”

A sound of disgust emanates from the corner of the call center's breakroom, and the Buckley siblings' heads swivel to its location. Josh is sitting at a table, sipping his coffee and rolling his eyes. “You sweet naive baby bi.” He gets up from his chair, sidles up to Buck, and eyes the donuts he brought for Maddie. “I don’t suppose there's a Bavarian cream in there?”

“There’s a jelly,” Buck says. 

“But jellies are my favorite,” Maddie complains. 

“Too bad. I’m about to help your chaotic brother out, so I deserve it.” Josh bites into the donut and gives an appreciative moan. “Oh god, I haven’t had refined sugar in three days. How I missed you.”

“Back to me, please,” Buck says with a whine.

“Look, it’s pretty simple. There are only two types of guys who want to open up a relationship after the six-month mark. Assholes carrying multiple red flags or..”

“Tommy’s not an asshole,” Buck tells him firmly. 

“Considering he’d whittle a rocking chair if you asked him to, I’d agree. Buck, my guess is he’s scared. He's worried that if he doesn't give you a free pass, that you'll get bored with him and leave.”

“That’s so stupid,” Buck cries in dismay. 

Maddie lays a supportive hand on his bicep. 

“It is,” Josh agrees. “But just because your man is a solid L.A. nine doesn’t mean he’s not carrying around a lot of insecurities. Talk to him. Tell him. And hey, if it all blows up on you, send him my way. I’d love to be that man’s shoulder to cry on.”

Buck shows up at Tommy’s door. Tommy is supposed to come to his after finishing his laundry, but Buck doesn’t want to wait that long. “Hey,” Tommy greets him with that scrunchy smile Buck loves so much. 

“I don’t want to have sex with anyone else,” Buck tells him as he barges through the door. 

“Oh-kay,” Tommy says, closing the door behind Buck. 

“Do you want to have sex with other men?”

Tommy crosses his arms, and his head tilts towards the ground. “No. I’ve come to learn that’s not an ideal situation for me.”

Buck scoffs. “Then why suggest it?”

The buzzer on the washer goes off, and Tommy moves towards it to switch out the load. “I don’t know. I’m pretty used to you flirting with everyone.”

“You think I flirt?” 

“Evan, you told the waiter you liked his chinos while eyeing his ass. Most of the time, I think it’s cute how you rile people up without realizing it, but then I have a thought like, what if Hot Waiter would be a better match for you? So I panicked and threw out that suggestion.” 

“Jesus, Tommy. For the past six months, my brain has been consumed by nothing but you. Yet you think I can be swayed by some guy in a comfortable pair of pants? I only want you.”

“I know. I do. You prove that to me every day. I didn’t suggest it because I don’t trust you.” Tommy tosses one of Buck’s hoodies into the dryer and starts it. He can’t keep eye contact with Buck for more than a few seconds, and he looks paler than when Buck first arrived. Tommy’s also picking his middle fingernail with his thumb, and that’s Tommy’s tell that he’s feeling overwhelmed. “Uh, so like, I’m in this for the long haul. I think you’re it for me, Evan, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you’ve settled or...”

“I love you,” Buck tells him with a certainty he doesn’t think he felt even eight hours ago, but it’s the god’s honest truth. “Just seeing you makes me feel so full I could combust. ”

Tommy’s eyes are glossy and he blinks rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He finally locks eyes with Buck. “Loving you has been living in the back of my mind since...I honestly don’t know how long. I’ve been trying to temper my expectations because I haven’t been super successful in relationships. But then you started leaving clothes here, and suddenly you’ve infiltrated my life like no one else has been willing to. Next thing I know, I’m at a funeral for a long dead cowboy. I watched you embrace the memory of a forgotten man, and I realized I couldn’t love you more, Evan. Boils and all.”

Aaaaand that’s it. I’m tapped out.

[rendiir]

Mmm, actually not seeing anyone having added the inevitable (or so i thought) musical history lesson here so here goes. That iconic drum sound found as a foundational part of Jungle music and its many musical offspring, like Breakcore, is known as the "Amen Break"

(Try playing that at 0.75 through 1.5 speed btw) Yes thats where breakcore gets its name, a hyper resampling of this drum sample... Where did this sample comefrom i hear you cry? So, in 1969, yup, 54 years ago, a R&B/Soul band called the Winstones put out a little bop called "Amen Brother" (see how it all comes together now?)

So these guys put out some soul in the 60s, drop a cheeky lil drum fill in there and 30 years later it gets picked up during the origins of Jungle, only to then make it to your screen and ears in meme format another 30 years later.

[omgellendean]

“It was the first time I had seen an Israeli soldier in real life,” Ahmad told Mondoweiss.

The army separated the women from the men and forced the women to flee south to Rafah. The men were kept zip-tied and would remain in the army’s custody. [...]

The next morning on January 23, the Israeli soldiers ordered Ahmad, his father, his brother, and the rest of his cousins to move outdoors and instructed them to move horizontally in front of the armored military cars.

“As they ordered us to stop and stand still, I found myself again a few meters away from the resistance military base,” Ahmad said. “ That was the moment I realized that we were being used as human shields.”

Soldiers forced them to kneel in the middle of the street as they took cover behind Ahmad and his male relatives.

They were forced to wear thin clothes in the winter cold, and their hands were zip-tied so tightly that they couldn’t feel their fingers. The soldiers at several points fired bullets next to their feet in an effort to terrorize them, perhaps to make them amenable to following orders.

“Every time they shot at us, I instantly poked my back to check if I was still alive,” said Ahmad, recalling the soldiers’ giggles at how scared he and his family were.

At other times, a tank would rapidly move towards them, then drift back, less than a meter away from them. Ahmad realized the soldiers were toying with them.  

At one point, soldiers picked Ahmad’s brother, Saeed, and tortured him, breaking his jaw. They kicked him in his genitals like they were “hitting a football,” according to Saeed. They beat him so severely that he blacked out at one point. [...]

Before sunset, the exchange of gunfire broke out again. Three Israeli soldiers rushed towards Ahmad and the rest of the men and pulled them toward a large sand dune, which they forced them to stand upon so that they were visible and exposed to the line of fire. As they stood atop the dune, they looked down and on the other side of it was a large ditch in the sand underfoot. 

The soldiers forced them to stand there on the dune, exposed to the line of fire and with the ditch looming below. [...]

After the exchange of fire was over, the Israeli soldiers forced Ahmad and the rest of the men inside a building. The building was all dark except for the room Ahmad and his family were forced into. The southern and eastern walls of the room were destroyed, which made those inside visible to anyone in sight from the resistance base.

Every once in a while, a soldier would come and point a red laser towards them for a few minutes, and then go away.

“I think he was trying to make it clear to the resistance fighters that we were also inside that building, as they were using us, once again, as human shields,” Ahmad explained.

Moments later, soldiers took them one by one to another room. It was the first time in more than 18 hours of being held as hostages that they began to interrogate them.[...]

After about two hours, the soldiers set Ahmad and his family free and ordered them to move south by making them follow a laser beam in the dead of night.

Fumbling through the roads, Ahmad and his family were finally able to reach a UN school about a mile away sheltering a number of displaced people. 

[f1angelz]

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒆 — charles leclerc x f!reader

summary: the F1 off season has begun and Charles has gone off to New York along with his fellow drivers to enjoy their break. Little did he know, he would encounter a familiar face.

content warnings: slight angst? (during flashbacks)

this fic is inspired by chase atlantic’s song, paradise. go give it a listen while reading!

── .✦

Flashing lights, big signs, and the night life— the city that never sleeps.

It’s the off season, which meant that drivers finally get to unwind and reset before the new season begun.

Charles, along with several other drivers, decided to come back to New York to enjoy its amenities once again like they did a few years back.

He was a bit hesitant at first, knowing that he had to leave his dog Leo, but his brother Arthur offered to take care of him for the mean time.

And now Charles is in his shared hotel room with Pierre, both resting as they waited for the night to come. Lando was going to DJ at some club tonight, and obviously they wanted to come and support him.

Night quickly came and Pierre woke up from his nap. Upon checking his phone, it was already 9 pm. He leaves bed and looks at Charles who has also fallen asleep. “Mate, it’s already 9. We have to get there at 10.” He gives Charles a small nudge on the shoulder, before going to the bathroom to change his clothes.

Charles groans, “Do we really have to go?”

“Do you want Lando to kick your ass?” Pierre shouts from the bathroom, his mouth filled with toothpaste.

Pierre exits the bathroom in his changed clothes, which meant it was Charles’ turn to go.

Danny and Lando were waiting for both of them, since they rented a limo for all their destinations in New York. Eventually, they were now complete and left for the club.

They arrived after around an hour later and line was already crazy long, but they were able to skip the wait since they were with Lando, who was the main act for the night.

The loud beats and dancing lazers welcomed them— Charles squinted, unable to adjust his eyesight immediately. The four of them made their way through the crowd, but Lando parted ways and went to the stage side, since his set was next.

The rest on the other hand, snaked their way out of the crowd and finally found the bar to get their ‘pre-game’ drinks.

Charles hasn’t gone clubbing in a hot minute, probably because ever since Leo came into his life it’s all that he’s been busy about aside from racing.

But it’s good to unwind your gears for a moment, right? It’s the main reason why they went on this boys trip.

All three of them suddenly turned their attention when Lando’s name was introduced by hypeman, making the crowd go wild.

Lando’s set began and the three of them made their way to the dance floor, but a security member was quick to pull them away from the crowd and towards the DJ’s booth.

To say the least, three of them were shocked. But Lando gave them a smug smirk, “See, told you that I’d make this night fun.” and he did.

The crowd grew larger and by the minute, alcohol was slowly taking its effect. Not a single thought was going into Charles’ head, it was like his body had a mind of its own. The adrenaline was rushing to his whole body, his view of the crowd hyping him up even more.

But not until he saw a familiar figure among the crowd.

That hair, those eyes, and those lips.

Charles practically froze, processing what he saw. Did he see things right? Or was it the alcohol?

—

“I swear, one day I’ll be working in New York pursuing my dreams of becoming an author.” Y/N proclaims, biting on her croissant as she watched the sun slowly rise.

“And when that happens, your face will be all over those fancy LED screens in Times Square.” Charles presses a kiss on her forehead.

“You’ll be there for me, right?” She looks up at him, waiting for an answer.

“You know I will, chérie.”

—

Pierre looked over to Charles, realizing that he stopped dancing and had a frozen look on his face. He nudged his shoulder, “Comment ça va?”

Charles jolted, snapping out of his flashback. “Yeah.”

He wished that it was the alcohol.

The rest of the night was a blur, and Charles woke up that afternoon with the worst hangover possible. He slowly peeled his eyes open and the light pooled his eyes, causing him to groan.

Pierre turns to his direction, “Afternoon to you, mate.”

Charles sits up slowly, “What time is it?”

“It’s 3 PM.” Pierre answers.

He groans and buries his face in his hands, taking a deep break before standing up slowly. Unable to keep his balance, he holds onto the wall for support.

“How’d we get home?” Charles asked, watching his footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom.

“We called an Uber. You were so wasted last night, mate. You were drinking uncontrollably and talking about this girl. We didn’t understand who you were talking about, but you mentioned a name.” Pierre said while he filled up a glass with water, then handing it to Charles.

Charles, who was sipping from his glass, almost spat it out. “A name?”

“Yeah, I don’t remember what it was.”

Charles sighed.

He had an idea whose name he probably mentioned.

Charles shrugged and entered the bathroom to take a shower, getting rid of the remnants of the alcoholic scent that stuck to his skin.

Trying to puzzle the pieces of last night’s incident, something urged him to leave and find what would make his mind at ease.

Charles quickly changes his clothes and grabs his phone, coat, and wallet.

“I’m going out, mate. I’ll be back in a few hours. Maybe before dinner.”

Before Pierre could say anything, Charles was already out the door.

As soon as he left the hotel, he didn’t know where to go. He didn’t know how where he was going to look for this peace he needed.

But one thing is for sure— it was bugging him, like a broken record.

So he walked around Times Square for a few minutes to see where his feet would lead him, looking at the different flashing billboards.

One billboard caught his eye.

He stopped his footsteps and saw the same girl from last night.

The same girl.

—

“Y/N, I’m sorry please. Forgive me.” Charles begged, clinging onto her arm. “Don’t leave me, please.”

“You always say sorry, Charles. But you never really are.” Y/N forcibly tries to pull him away from her arm, carrying her suitcase towards the door.

“Chèrie, please, I’ll do better.”

“God knows that I’ve been patient, and all you’ve done is hurt me over and over again. Charles, I’m so, so tired. Let me go.” She clicks open the door knob of Charles’ apartment, taking a step outside.

Charles cried, still trying to get a hold of her.

“Please.. Please, Y/N.” He sobbed.

“Goodbye, Charles.” She walked away and closed the door, leaving him devastated.

—

It was her, Y/N, on the billboard— advertising her book signing event for her New York Times best selling book which happened to be on the same day.

Charles quickly took a picture of the address and called for a cab, telling the driver the destination.

He didn’t know what to feel, or what to do.

But he needed to see her, even just a glimpse.

Charles arrived at the event and fell in line, despite it reaching almost the end of the block.

He checked his phone for the time, 4:15 PM. The signing starts at 4:30.

He waited for a while, nervous about their possible encounter.

A sudden commotion was heard from near the entrance, a limousine pulled up to the front and body guards were surrounding the vehicle.

A man opened the door and revealed a woman, dressed in heels and a pair of beige slacks along with a white button down polo.

It really was her.

Charles really couldn’t believe his eyes. The girl who once aspired to become a best-selling author, was now already one. All of their memories together in the past all flashed before him.

And she walks down,

I noticed that she does it for real now

Y/N waved at her fans and greeted some of them, walking along the barricaded line and taking some pictures.

He was nervous, was she even going to recognize him?

When she got to where Charles was, they immediately locked eyes.

She remembered who he was— and like Charles, all her memories came flashing back.

“Charl—“ Before she could even finish his name, a fan pulled her to take a picture. But she looked back at Charles once more, confirming if it really was him.

And she talks loud,

She’s telling me what I wanna hear now

Is it real now?

How do I know for sure?

Needless to say, Charles was speechless— and Y/N was too.

── .✦

[cutielando]

soft launch | m.s.

social media au

synopsis: in which Toto's daughter starts soft-launching her boyfriend, who just so happens to be her father's reserve driver

my masterlist

liked by francisca.cgomes, mickschumacher and 4,284,175 others

yn.wolff hopping through new york city

view all 482,941 comments

francisca.cgomes gorgeous babe 🤍

y/n.wolff i miss you 🤍🥺

francisca.cgomes we need to go on a double date soon !!!

y/n.wolff amen to that

user1 UMMM??????

user2 posting a mysterious boy on her insta and then confirming she's dating in the comments???

user3 is Toto okay?

lewishamilton Toto is asking who that boy is

y/n.wolff tell him to stop being nosy

lewishamilton don't give me attitude and answer the goddamn phone - toto

y/n.wolff stop embarrassing me

yourbff you're beautiful 🤩🤩

y/n.wolff i miss you 🥺

yourbff get me some paddock passes for the next race

y/n.wolff done

mercedesamgf1 🤍

landonorris you're scandalous 😤

y/n.wolff not any more than you are

landonorris i'm a perfect angel

y/n.wolff and i'm batman

landonorris i knew it!!

user4 i saw mick in the likes 👀👀👀

user3 not really suspicious, they've known each other for a while thanks to Toto

user2 but imagine them being together, they would break the internet

mickschumacher 👀 liked by y/n.wolff

liked by formula1wags, yourbff and 49,284 others

f1gossippofficial Mick Schumacher and Y/N Wolff spotted having dinner late last night in New York City and sharing intimate moments. Rumors have been circulating around the paddock that the young driver and daughter of Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 team, Toto Wolff, have recently started dating, but is this true? 🤔

view all 11,284 comments

user1 I KNEW IT AGHH

formula1wags if this is true, the paddock is about to go wild

user2 facts

yourbff well, well, well

user1 um, yourbff, what are you doing here?

user2 is this confirmation?

mercedesamgf1 🤔🤔

user1 omg this is so how Toto is feeling right now

user3 if this is indeed true, i hope they're happy❤️❤️

liked by y/n.wolff, mickschumacher and 1,482,593 others

mercedesamgf1 Our reserve driver for the 2023 season! 🤍

view all 472,491 comments

mickschumacher honored! 🤍

georgerussell63 proud to have you on board with us!

lewishamilton welcome to the show, brother

y/n.wolff 🤍 liked by gina_schumacher and mickschumacher

user1 👀👀👀

user2 i'm lowkey digging this

user3 can't wait to see you in action Schumi 🤍🤍

landonorris you've come a long way, brother

mickschumacher thanks, lando

gina_schumacher so proud of you, baby brother 🤍

mickschumacher thank you 🤍 i love you

liked by gina_schumacher, y/n.wolff and 2,194,275 others

mickschumacher 🤍new york city, you're a wonder

view all 523,194 comments

y/n.wolff 👀 handsome

mickschumacher 🤩

user1 why don't they just confirm it already

user2 i saw them the other day

user1 DETAILS GIRL

user2 they were walking around Times Square, visiting various shops. they were holding hands, kissing very subtly, they are for sure dating. Mick bought Y/N a bouquet of flowers at one point and she became all shy when he gave it to her. melted my heart

user3 they sound so cute and happy together

gina_schumacher don't forget to bring me something

mickschumacher are you using me to get free stuff?

gina_schumacher maybe

y/n.wolff gina_schumacher consider it done

mickschumacher ?????

estebanocon my invitation seems to have got lost in the mail

mickschumacher i'll take you with me next time

estebanocon she's stealing you away from me

y/n.wolff sorryyyyy

liked by mickschumacher, georgerussell63 and 9,184,471 others

y/n.wolff i like them blonde and sweet 😛 tagged: mickschumacher

view all 1,481,573 comments

mickschumacher i love you

y/n.wolff i love you more

mercedesamgf1 💙 liked by y/n.wolff and mickschumacher

georgerussell63 finally

mickschumacher i'm surprised you kept it a secret this long

georgerussell63 you were starting to make it hard on me

y/n.wolff thank you georgie, good boy

georgerussell63 please stop talking to me like i'm a dog

y/n.wolff you know i can’t do that

landonorris everyone already knew, you know

y/n.wolff i don't see your point

landonorris your soft-launch was useless

y/n.wolff you're useless

landonorris :(

mickschumacher you asked for it, mate

user1 FINALLY 😭😭

user2 what do we think Toto's reaction was when they told him? 😭

y/n.wolff he was nice haha!! a little shocked, but nice nonetheless 🥳

user2 she actually responded😩😩😩

gina_schumacher so glad to have you in our family

y/n.wolff thank you for making me feel so welcome and loved !! 🩵

estebanocon happy for you guys! ❤️ liked by y/n.wolff

user3 they are the next it couple, i can feel it

user4 this love story makes me believe in love

user5 if they ever break up, i’m not going to believe in love anymore

alex_albon two blondes, dangerous

y/n.wolff what is that supposed to mean?

mickschumacher i don’t know if i want to know

alex_albon probably a good idea

y/n.wolff watch your back, albon

alex_albon 😟

user6 i love them sm 😩😩

liked by formula1wags, gina_schumacher and 38,154 others

f1gossippofficial After confirming their relationship earlier this week, Mick Schumacher and Y/N Wolff have made their paddock debut as a couple earlier today. What do you guys think about our new WAG?

view all 9,371 comments

user1 they are perfect for each other, just look at them😭

user2 i love them😭😭

user3 she's such a fashion icon and i'm here for it

user2 for real, she has an amazing sense of style

user1 just watch, Mick is gonna have a major change in style now that they're together

user4 God knows he needs one

y/n.wolff i think they're really cute together

mickschumacher i share the same opinion

user3 why are you guys trolling us now 😭😭😭😭

estebanocon could be cuter

y/n.wolff 😒😒😒

estebanocon i take it back

y/n.wolff wise choice

user5 Y/N has a hold on everyone in the paddock 😭😭 i want to be like her when i grow up

user4 who doesn't?

comments and re-blogs help us grow!

much appreciated!!

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[lucifersdickriderdotnet]

Emergency Contact

Summary: Having siblings sucks. Having siblings who are constantly getting into life threatening situations is worse. 5.9k words.

Disclaimer: as usual, if they're ooc no. uhm. Diavolo and Barbatos are here and they are referred to as Lucifer's boyfriends but it's in like a fun jokey teasing way that siblings do. except Lucifer actually is dating Diavolo in my head so. asmo and solomon ARE dating because I want them to be. maybe next time I'll make solomon date satan. you can only call a man a cute kitty so many times before people get ideas. if you couldn't tell by the title and the summary, people get #sick and break their #bones. oh. there is one (1) cannibalism joke. not demoncest just bros being bros.

Notes: this took so long because I've never written a decent ending in my life and i spent two days on it. also that anon really pissed me off for some reason idk. if you don't like how anyone is characterized write your own fanfiction man idk. solmare doesn't even have consistency with this nonsense. Lucifer is nice to his brothers in this because I want him to be. amen.

It’s a little known fact that Lucifer is everyone’s emergency contact. When it comes to those he cares about, he is protective, almost annoyingly so. So, it makes sense that the person who knows everything about everyone should be in charge if something goes awry. His phone hardly ever rings for emergencies, half because his brothers’ manage to get themselves out of trouble through a series of convoluted and confusing hijinks and half because most of them would rather eat nails than call him to tell him something is wrong. He’s even Barbatos’ emergency contact, despite the fact that Barbatos has never been sick or injured.

When his phone does ring, though, it’s almost always because someone has managed to damage themselves beyond repair, which is why he’s staring at the caller id on his D.D.D. like he can make it stop ringing if he glares hard enough.

“Lucifer Morningstar speaking,” it hadn’t stopped ringing and Diavolo had almost reached across the table to answer it for him.

“Hello this is Devildom General Hospital. We received a patient today and your name was on his–”

“Who.” It comes out dull and flat. He’s gripping his fork so hard he can hear the metal squeak.

“Excuse me?” The demon on the other end of the phone sounds perfectly polite but Lucifer is already so strung out all it does is grate his nerves.

“Who are you calling for?”

“Mam–”

“I’ll be right there,” he’s standing up in a hurry, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and ignoring Diavolo’s many questions as he leaves their dinner.

“Sir, if you’ll just–” he hangs up before the nurse can say anything else.

-

Mammon managed to break a bone or two in a scuffle he won’t tell Lucifer the details of.

“Do you know how hard it is to break a femur, Mammon?” Lucifer is gripping the steering wheel of the car so hard he’s surprised it hasn’t snapped in half.

“Pretty damn hard, all things considerin’.” Lucifer exhales sharply out of his nose and looks at his brother from the corner of his eye. He’s staring out of the window, and the white of his hair is dirty with mud and something red that Lucifer knows didn’t come out of his skull but worries him regardless.

“Mammon, this isn’t something to joke about.”

“I know,” he taps the hard cast of his leg with a bruised knuckle, “‘m the one with the broken bones.”

“If you know why are you doing it?” Lucifer can’t stop his voice from raising a few decibels towards the end of his sentence and has to mentally count to ten to not start screaming.

“‘Cause I just got the shit beat outta me ‘n’ I don’t wanna listen to yer lecturin’.” Mammon finally turns his head to stare at Lucifer and the elder looks away from the road for a second to meet his eyes. It’s not often that Mammon genuinely argues with him, not often that Mammon gets mad enough to let the blue of his eyes light with fury. Whatever happened tonight was not something that he wanted to happen, and it’s not something he needs a scolding for.

There’s a tense silence where Lucifer sighs and then flicks the turn signal, sliding across the lanes of traffic to take Mammon somewhere else before they go home.

“Did you win?” He’s pulling into Madame Screams’ drive through when he asks.

“‘Course I did.”

“Good.”

They both silently agree not to tell the rest of them about their little pit stop, and it’s as Lucifer’s pulling into the garage that he turns to his brother.

“Mammon.” A hum sounds from the passenger seat. “Next time, call me yourself. I don’t want it to be the hospital unless you’re physically incapable of talking.”

“Roger that.”

—

Lucifer is not known as the most comforting of his brothers. The six of them tend to rely on each other for that, going to Mammon or Beel if they have emotional troubles. Lucifer, as the oldest, is good for cleaning up messes. Putting things back together and making it look like nothing was ever amiss in the first place. It’s his job to protect them, from the world and from themselves, and he takes it seriously. Still, despite his brick wall in place of a heart and his general ineptitude when it comes to being affirming in any sense, he is not incapable of helping his brothers out of a tight spot. He’s just not preferred.

“Lucifer,” Levi’s voice is shaky and stuttering on the other end of the phone. He knew something was wrong when his phone started ringing in the middle of class. His brothers all know how much he hates distractions during class time, just like they know when he has a class so they don’t bother him. He knew something was worse when it was Levi’s name flashing across the screen. Levi refuses to call any of them unless the world is ending. He knew something was horrible when he remembered that today was one of the few days that Levi is mandated to come to campus.

“Yes?” He’s already left class walking down the hallway towards the abandoned wing where he knows Levi is. He keeps his steps measured and even, keeps his breathing calm. It won’t do to have two of them panicked at the same time.

“Are you busy?” They both know the answer to that question, just like they both know he’s going to lie.

“You caught me in the middle of a break. Why?” He tests the door handle for the swimming pool. Closed for renovations, the sign says. The same thing it’s said for the past several millennia. The door swings open without any effort on his part, the magic seal already broken before he got here.

“Would you like to go for a swim?” There’s a splash on the other end of the line. Lucifer snorts.

“I’m not one for water.” There’s silence and another splash and Lucifer lets out a heavy sigh. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Yay,” Levi says, soft and timid, and Lucifer can see him now, all of him, filling up the entire pool. He doesn’t get in yet, just removes a glove and sticks a finger in the water to let Levi know he’s here. He watches as the miles and miles of indigo scales shift and slide along each other until he’s face to face with thousands of sharp teeth.

“You’re going to break the pool again,” is what he says, voice dry. He sputters indignantly when that earns him salt water to the face. He’s soaked now, head to toe and he’s going to miss these shoes.

“Oops.” Levi’s voice is sprinkled with something mirthful, no longer halfway to tears as it was just a moment ago. “Get in. The water’s nice.”

“Yes,” Lucifer swipes a hand across his face to push his bangs back. Salt water drips into his eyes anyway. “I can see that.” 

Levi giggles and his face moves away, body coiling in, on, and over itself, too big to fully fit in the pool.

“You said you’d swim with me.”

“Yes. I suppose I did.”

Truthfully, Lucifer doesn’t like swimming. He is not a bird that is built for water, and getting wet usually means being cold and grounded for a while. Truthfully, he’d rather finally open one of the many letters Michael has sent him over the years. Truthfully, he would do anything for his brothers. Truthfully, Lucifer doesn’t think he’ll fit, but a promise is a promise, so he slides out of his uniform and climbs in.

Levi doesn’t ever tell him what made him so upset he rebroke R.A.D. 's pool, but he does leave a box of Princess’ Poison Apples on his desk the next morning, so Lucifer sets his sights on re-fixing the swimming pool. Maybe this time he’ll convince Diavolo to make it bigger.

—

Satan would rather rip his own teeth out with nothing but a Q-tip and a single milligram of ibuprofen to numb the pain than ever ask Lucifer for help. Their relationship is getting better, he will admit, but he’s filled with a rage towards the oldest that could melt even the strongest of metals, and it will take a while to temper the flame. So, no, he will not ask Lucifer for help, but, if he’s annoying enough about it, Lucifer will fix it anyways.

He starts by mentioning it to Asmo, squinting at him and saying that no, he can’t tell if Asmo’s eyeliner is uneven, because he can’t see.

“Can’t see?” Manicured fingernails are digging into his cheeks as Asmo grips his face and moves his head from side to side. He has to shelve books in his mind’s inner library to not rip his brother’s face clean off his head. 

“Doesn’t look like cataracts or anything,” Asmo hums, dropping his face. Satan massages his jaw slightly. “What do you mean you ‘can’t see’?”

“I meant what I said. Your face is slightly blurry and I can’t tell if your eyeliner is even because it just looks like a blob. Ergo. I can’t see.” Satan crosses his arms over his chest and dodges Asmo’s subsequent grabs for his face.

“Oh,” a snort, “you probably need glasses.” He turns back around to his vanity and Satan has to stop himself from saying no shit out loud.

“Glasses are for losers.”

“Lucifer wears glasses.”

“My point exactly.” Asmo twists his lipstick back down before popping the cap on and pulling open a drawer. He gestures for Satan to look inside and he does and–

“I didn’t know you wore contacts.”

“Not very many people do. Mammon has glasses too, you know. He’s sensitive to bright lights. The sunglasses indoors are not just a poor fashion statement,” Asmo sighs and shakes his head, like the image of Mammon wearing his sunglasses inside brings him physical pain. “And, I think Levi has some because all of those screens destroyed his rods and cones.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for calling you a loser.” Asmo waves him off.

“The point, Bitty, is that you wouldn’t be the first.” It wouldn’t be just you and Lucifer is what he’s saying. Satan nods and then frowns.

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Why?” Asmo reaches over to poke his cheek. He narrowly avoids getting a finger bitten off. His voice rises several octaves, turning into a coo. “You’re just an itty bitty baby– Ow, dammit fine.”

-

He then proceeds to complain about it as loudly as possible, as frequently as possible. No, he can’t help Mammon with his homework, the words are bleeding together. Yes, he does have to sit front and center now because otherwise the board is unreadable. No, he did not catch that last slanderous missive about Lucifer in the R.A.D. Newspaper because he couldn’t read the draft that was sent to him for editing. (He made Belphie read the drafts to him out loud and thought that the article was funny.)

“Satan,” everytime Lucifer has to talk to him he looks constipated and it makes Satan laugh inside.

“Big Bother.” Lucifer’s eye twitches.

“You have an appointment with the optometrist. Get in the car.” Satan sets his book down.

“Can’t Mammon take me?” He doesn’t want Mammon to take him. Still, it’s funny to see the vein pop on Lucifer’s forehead.

“... Get in the fucking car.”

Satan plays heavy metal in the car because he knows Lucifer hates it and makes him sit in the lobby during the actual check up because he thinks it’s funny to watch his leg bounce up and down. (And because Lucifer gets a copy of all of their medical records anyway. The freak probably checked Satan’s eyes himself while he was sleeping and already knows his prescription.)

“Those glasses look nice on you,” is all Lucifer says when he picks out the frames.

“I changed my mind. I hate these ones.” (He doesn’t.)

—

He’d been in his room, up to his eyes in paperwork when his phone rang. It’s not unusual for Asmo to call him, the younger always wanting to chat and gossip for as long as Lucifer will pretend to listen, but it is unusual for him to call in the middle of an Asmo Night.

“Hi Asmo, what–”

“Lucy!!” He has to pull the phone away from his ear to avoid rupturing the drum.

“I believe I have asked you not to–”

“Hey! Give me my–” There’s a scuffle on the other end before a voice that Lucifer recognizes as Solomon’s starts speaking.

“Lucifer! I believe Asmodeus has had enough for tonight and needs to be deposited home. I would do it myself, but as per our agreement, I am not allowed–”

“Within twenty feet of my front door. Yes, I know. I’ll come get him. Please keep him out of trouble until I get there.” He rubs the bridge of his nose before standing up and making his way to the door.

“Wonderful! Now, about that pact–” Lucifer hangs up before Solomon can finish the question and hits Levi’s door on the way down the stairs.

“Bed, Leviathan.” There’s a small squeak in response. “Or at least pretend to be sleeping. I can hear your game from out here.” The RPG music leaking from Levi’s room into the hallway quiets drastically.

He stops by the kitchen to find Asmo his crackers and a bottle of water before leaving, instructing Beel to carry himself and Belphie to bed on his way out.

Lucifer does not like parties. He thinks they are loud and annoying and too many people try to get handsy with him when really all he wants is to drink his Demonus in peace. He’s dealing with that now, batting off people’s hands and ignoring requests for a night alone as he makes his way to Asmo’s booth.

“Asmo,” Solomon’s voice is soft and fond as he rouses Asmo from a short nap, “Lucifer’s here. It’s time to go.”

“Mmkay.” Asmo rubs his eyes and gives Solomon a peck on the lips that Lucifer has to fight the urge to gag at. He crawls out of the booth and grabs Lucifer’s hand, and somehow the crowd parts to let him past with no fuss. They barely make it outside before Asmo is hurling all over the sidewalk and Lucifer is remembering that Asmo smells like warm, sugared peaches.

Asmo smells like peaches. Allegedly, he smells like whatever is the most alluring to you, but Lucifer thinks he has always smelled like peaches. He smells like the holy peach cobbler that Michael used to make in the Celestial Realm. Asmo smells like the peach flavored macarons that Barbatos makes when he and Lucifer have tea. He smells like the Georgia peaches the human made him try once. Asmo smells like peaches, he smells like home and love and care, and you would have to hold Lucifer at gunpoint to get him to admit this to his brother.

And now, Lucifer is getting a face full of that smell mixed with vomit as Asmo leans over a bush and loses whatever meager dinner Beel had shoved in him as well as half his body weight in alcohol. There’s a flash from the corner of his eye and he makes a mental note to follow up on that.

“It will sound hypocritical coming from me,” he starts and is promptly interrupted by another retch.

“Then don’t–good Diavolo, that tastes awful–say it.” Asmo takes the water bottle that Lucifer dutifully hands him and rinses his mouth out.

“Are you done?” Lucifer starts fishing around his jacket pocket for a pack of Asmo’s favorite crackers. They taste like flowers, allegedly, and they're one of the few things that Beel genuinely doesn’t like to eat.

“For now.” Asmo takes the crackers and starts munching on them gratefully, leaning heavily into Lucifer’s side as they both walk home.

“Thank you for coming,” he says. Lucifer scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“I would never leave one of you alone.”

“Aww, that’s so–”

“The paperwork alone would take at least a decade.”

“Nevermind.”

-

If Lucifer hunts down the demon who took the picture and threatens them within an inch of their life, that’s between him and his Father. And if Asmo finds out and gives Lucifer a hug at breakfast the following morning, that’s between him and Mammon’s camera roll.

—

Lucifer hates Fangol. Well, that’s not true. He admires the dedication someone has to have to play it and to play it well. He admits that sometimes it’s fun to go to games and get caught up in the hype of the crowd. He also likes that it makes Beel happy. What he doesn’t like is sitting in the stands as his second youngest brother makes a game winning play and then gets tackled onto the turf so hard you can hear the sound his head makes when it hits the ground.

The crowd goes silent and the players and the band take a knee and Lucifer is half dragging half carrying Belphie down the stands to the ambulance as the EMT’s check over their brother.

“Sir, I understand–” The paramedic cuts themself off when they see whose shadows are looming over them. They heave a sigh and gesture to a patch of grass near where they have Beel laying on a gurney. “Try to avoid being in our way.”

It’s a fight to keep Belphie from being underfoot, but there isn’t one when Lucifer says he’s riding in the ambulance with Beel to the hospital. Only a curt nod and then a muttered threat in his ear that he rolls his eyes at and then their off.

“Sorry.” It’s the first thing out of Beel’s mouth after he’s done being asked routine questions.

“It’s not like you asked to receive a concussion.”

“We don’t know that it’s a concussion,” Beel says, wagging his finger slowly. Lucifer rolls his eyes.

“You told the paramedic you wanted to throw up and pass out at the same time.”

“Average Beelzebub activities.” It makes Lucifer snort, lips twitching up into a smile.

“That is the exact opposite of a Beelzebub activity. You’ll be okay, though.” The you have to be goes unsaid.

It turns out to be a concussion and Beel is barred from playing for a while and then everything is fine.

-

Lucifer has changed his mind, he definitely hates Fangol. He has half a mind to ban Beel from ever playing it again, but if he didn’t have something to focus his energy on, they wouldn’t have a House to live in.

He stayed home from the game, wanting to relax, for once, with a new cursed record and a bottle of his prized Demonus. He might have also paused the record to watch the stream of the game on his phone, but that’s neither here nor there. He’s busy cussing out one of the commentators for their clear bias against Beel–they haven’t been angels in literally thousands of years, people need to find a new excuse–when it cuts suddenly from a replay of the last down to a live feed from the field. And then his phone rings.

“Mammon,” he already knows what happened before he picks up.

“I know ya said not ta call ya tonight, but,” he sounds haggard, and his accent gets thicker when he’s panicking, “ya also said not ta let the hospital call ya so–”

“Mammon,” it comes out snappier than he wants it to and he has to soften his voice when he opens his mouth again, “breathe. What’s happened?”

“Dear Father who art in Heaven–” Lucifer curses again because Mammon only reverts to praying when something is seriously wrong. “Beel got tackled ‘nd– Lucifer, ya could hear the crunch from Diavolo’s good seats.” Lucifer sucks in a breath and considers sending up a couple prayers himself.

“I’m on my way. Beel will– Beel will be okay, Mammon. He’s strong.” He hears Mammon’s assent from the other end of the line just as he hears Levi mumble something to Mammon.

“Oh, yer kiddin’.”

“What? Mammon, what’s going on?”

“We can’t fin’ Belphie.”

“Shit.”

-

If Lucifer breaks traffic laws on his way to the stadium, no one who pulls him over will be able to make anything stick for very long. He watches as the ambulance pulls away and his D.D.D. buzzes with a message.

Mams

I went with Beel. Everyone’s still tryna find Belphie.

“Lucifer–” he’s met with an armful of brothers before he can put his phone back in his pocket and he’s not strong enough to pretend he doesn’t want to hug them back.

“Did you find–”

“No, obviously not Levi, he just fucking got here.”

“Satan, now is not the time–”

“I’ll decide when the fucking time is, Asmo. Did you see what they did to our–”

“Yeah, I was sitting right next to you. You’re not the only one who’s upset–”

“Guys,” Lucifer raises his voice above their arguing. “Now is not the time.” He hands Diavolo his keys, grateful, for once, at his many attempts to bond with his brothers. “Will you please take them to the hospital? I have a brother to find.”

It doesn’t take him long to find Belphie, but it does take a toll on his knees.

“Belphegor.” He wonders how the youngest climbed on top of the press box without anyone noticing.

“The stadium lights are too bright,” Belphie says, “you can’t see the stars. They drown them out. It’s a bad omen, Lucifer.”

“Belphegor, please come back down.”

“I can’t see them, Lucifer.” His voice is thick with tears.

“They’re still there, Belphie. I promise.”

“We made them together, and I can’t see them.”

“If you come back down we can visit Beel and the two of you can find them together.” Diavolo’s Father help him, he is not climbing on top of that box to bring Belphie down himself.

“Promise?”

“On my life.”

The bad thing about the press box for the R.A.D. stadium, is that the ladder has rusted away. People never go on top of it to watch or film the game anymore because they started to use magic to get the good camera angles. The bad thing about the press box is that when Belphie makes to climb down he slips and has nothing to grab and lands on the concrete stadium seating with a snap that makes Lucifer’s stomach churn.

-

“I can’t believe you fell while getting down. That’s like, one hundred times easier than goin’ up.” Mammon is beside himself with laughter while he doodles on Belphie’s cast.

“Haha. Laugh it up Mammon. When I’m out of this thing, I’m going to break every bone in your body.” Mammon rolls his eyes at Belphie’s threat.

“The witches have used that one before. Try again.”

“What are you, a magic eight ball?”

“Reply hazy. Try again later.”

“You know,” Asmo says from his spot opposite Mammon, doodling on Beel’s cast, “it is kind of cool that you guys managed to break the same bone.”

“It’s because we’re twins.” Beel says, smiling brightly.

“Yeah,” Satan snorts, “or cause you’re both stupid.”

“I’m just glad you’re both okay,” Levi cuts in before Belphie and Satan can start in on each other.

“Indeed. Although, I believe it’s best that Fangol is heading into its off season.” Lucifer says, and there’s noises of agreement throughout the room.

—

It’s a simple fact of life that Lucifer doesn’t get sick. The Demon King is asleep, the Earth’s year is 365 (365.25) days long, the Crown Prince of the Devildom hates pickles, Michael is a massive loser, and Lucifer doesn’t get sick. He does not get sick or injured or cursed or hexed or anything of the sort because he does not have the time. Except. Except he is most definitely sick right now.

Belphie realized something was wrong when Lucifer didn’t come down for breakfast. He’s a stickler for meal times, always wanting them to share a meal together. Something about family and tradition and will you just do what I say for once that Belphie doesn’t care about or want to listen to. He comes to breakfast and dinner and lunch on the weekends anyway, because Beel does, not because Lucifer wants him to. So, when he looks up from his spot at the table, the cloth permanently drool stained despite the oldest’s best efforts, and watches all of his brothers leave except Lucifer, he gets confused.

“Beel,” he asks, tilting his head just so, “did Lucifer have a meeting today?” Usually he would tell them. Several times throughout the week if it was planned and then again in the morning before he leaves. He’s weird like that, he doesn’t like not knowing where everyone is. Belphie thinks he’s a control freak, even if he finds knowing his brother’s whereabouts comforting.

“No,” Beel says this around a mouthful of muffin, “I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. Well. I guess we’ll see him at school.”

-

They do not, in fact, see him at school. Mammon shares first period with him, which means he can never skip the first hour and a half of R.A.D. Except today, there’s no harsh pokes in his back whenever he starts to zone out, and there’s no pointed coughs when he pulls out his phone and starts playing games. He looks around and there’s no Lucifer.

Demon Brothers

Mams: ayo. where is. lucifer.

Catan: he’s not in class?

Mams: if he was I wouldn’t be askin.

Catan: the phone screen makes you bold, brother. watch yourself.

Mams: o7 aye aye cap’n.

Beel: Belphie says he wasn’t at breakfast either

Mams: is belphie’s phone broke???

Beel: he says typing is too much effort

Mams: understandable have a nice day

Asmo: o.o Lucifer not at breakfast? But he’s always weird when we miss it!

Catan: typical Lucifer hypocrisy

Levs: you know he can still read this chat right?

Catan: when has that ever stopped me -_-

Levs: you guys have hit like all of the Summoning Lucifer Bullet Points

Levs: 1. Mention his name fifty times

Levs: 2. Blow up his phone

Levs: 3. Text during class time

Levs: 4. Slander him at least once

Levs: 5. Ask about his private business/goings on

Beel: and yet

Mams: no Lucifer

-

The real header comes during the afternoon, when Lucifer doesn’t show up to the scheduled Student Council Meeting.

“Alrighty!” Diavolo says, chipper as ever, “when Lucifer gets here, we’ll start the meeting. He has all of the paperwork, anyway.” 

So they wait. And they wait.

“Yo, dude,” Mammon calls to Diavolo and he turns his head, Barbatos coughs into his fist at the lack of formality. “I don’t think Lucifer is gonna show.”

“Yeah,” Belphie yawns, “he wasn’t in school today, either.”

“Or at breakfast, apparently.” Levi says, though it’s hard to hear him over the music of his game.

“That is. Odd. Is he still at home, then?” Diavolo pulls out his phone and starts texting.

“No use,” Asmo says, “we’ve been bothering him all day.”

“Privately and in the group chat,” Satan adds. “Though, he may not have opened my messages because they were all cursed.”

“He didn’t open mine either,” Beel says. “I think he’s just been off his phone.”

“Unusual,” Barbatos says, stepping out of his shadowy corner. “Perhaps something is amiss?”

“With Lucifer?” Asmo sounds incredulous, lowering his compact just long enough to arch an eyebrow at the butler before tapping more powder on his face. “Nothing is ever wrong with Lucifer.” Belphie yawns before nodding in agreement and adding his own two cents.

“Even when we curse him things aren’t wrong. He always manages to make it seem so … normal.”

“I remember that time his pants kept falling down,” Levi says. “I thought it would make him less intimidating. I was wrong.” He shudders. “Very wrong.”

“Then why isn’t he here?” Barbatos says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why does he do anythin’?” Mammon stands up as he says this, grabbing his bag and his phone and making his way towards the door. “Lucifer does what he wants and shows no remorse for it.” There’s a pause where he remembers the Fall. “Mosta the time.”

“Well, if we aren’t going to do anything,” Asmo’s compact shuts with a click, “I have people to do and things to see.”

“It’s ‘things to do and people to see’, Asmo,” Satan says, following his brothers out.

“I know what I said.”

Barbatos and Diavolo watch as the brothers leave, one by one, all citing different excuses before sharing a look.

“Is it rude to stop by people’s homes uninvited, Barbatos?” Diavolo asks, pushing his chair back.

“Yes. But in cases where Lucifer is concerned, manners and politeness have never stopped you, my Lord.” Barbatos follows behind the Prince, steps silent in contrast to the clacking of Diavolo’s shoes on the Academy’s stone floors. Diavolo’s laugh echoes throughout the hallway.

“I suppose you’re right. Come, I believe I must pay a visit to my right hand.”

“Always.”

-

The House is cold when Diavolo gets there. He can hear Beel rummaging in the kitchen, and Belphie’s soft snores accompanying him. He can hear Levi and Mammon fighting over something and he can hear the thud of books falling over in Satan’s room. He can hear Asmo because Asmo greets him when he enters.

“Oh, hey!” He waves excitedly, before pointing at his feet. “Which shoes do you think look better with this outfit?”

“I think they both look nice,” Diavolo replies and Asmo pouts.

“Not helpful.”

“The ones on your left, Asmodeus.” Barbatos’ eyes peer from behind Diavolo’s shoulder and Asmo smiles in response.

“Thanks! Hey,” he tugs the shoe on his right foot off and tosses it into a pile next to the door before grabbing his left foot’s twin from seemingly nowhere, “you guys didn’t see Solomon out there, did you?”

“I thought I told you that he isn’t allowed within twenty feet of the front door.” Lucifer’s normal baritone is raspy with sickness, vocal cords raw from coughing.

“He’s not going to be within twenty feet. He’s going to stand an inch outside of the barrier.” Asmo turns and places his hands on his brother’s shoulders, spinning him around and pushing him back towards the living room. “I also thought I told you to lie down and sleep. I suppose we both aren’t good at listening, hmm?” Lucifer grumbles at him despite following Asmo’s guidance to the couch.

“I heard the door open.” Diavolo follows the duo towards the living room, Barbatos his ever present shadow.

“There are six other people who can answer it.” He watches as Asmo pushes Lucifer into a sitting position and shoves blankets around him.

“That’s what I worry about.” Asmo rolls his eyes.

“Stop being a baby and just lay down. How can you catch Mammon and string him up by his toenails if you can’t go a second without coughing?”

“I can,” Lucifer pauses to cough, “I can take any one of you down, even in this weakened state.”

There’s a snort from the entrance to the kitchen as the twins walk in, Beel carrying soup and Belphie carrying nothing.

“You couldn’t block even the lowest level curse from Satan at this rate.” Belphie says, curling up on the couch next to Lucifer and resting his head on his lap.

“I could–”

“You’re very strong, Lucifer,” Asmo placates, patting his older brother’s head condescendingly. “Now, eat your soup and shut up. I have a date to get to and I’m running late.”

“Maybe I should cough on you so you can’t go anymore.” The threat is empty, but Asmo’s smile still sharpens in response.

“Maybe I should take a seam ripper to all of your clothes,” he turns on his heel. “Oh, also. Diavolo is here.” The responding squawk Lucifer lets out sends him into another coughing fit, one that disrupts the sleeping Belphie on his lap.

“My Lord,” Lucifer makes to get up and is physically yanked back down by Belphie, “I apologize for not greeting you earlier.”

“No worries! You didn’t show up to the meeting today, and you weren’t answering your phone, so I stopped by to see how you were.” Diavolo gestures to the bottles of cold medicine on the coffee table and the bowl of soup being shoved at Lucifer by Beel. “It seems you are all taken care of.”

“Indeed. I appreciate your concern–”

“Beel, Lucifer’s boyfriend was worried about him. Isn’t that sweet?” Beel nods at Belphie’s joke, resting his head against the side of Lucifer’s knee from his newly acquired spot on the floor.

“The sweetest. Someone tell Asmo he’s being beaten in the best boyfriend competition.” There’s twin thunks as Lucifer smacks the both of them on the head, face now flushed with something other than fever.

“That’s enough out of you two.” He sighs and looks back up at Diavolo and Barbatos. “Would the two of you like to stay for dinner? Satan’s in charge tonight and he likely won’t poison it since I’m too ill to eat much of anything.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Diavolo sits in an empty armchair that he thinks is Lucifer’s regular seat when his phone buzzes.

Emergency Chat ONLY

Belphie: hey satan, lucifer’s boyfriend is staying for dinner

Catan: man. now I can’t put this human world poison I found in it.

Belphie: probably wouldn’t work anyway

Beel: Barbatos is also staying

Belphie: my apologies Beel. you’re right

Belphie: lucifer’s boyfriendS are staying for dinner

Levs: this is great

Levs: I wanted to talk to Diavolo about the new chapter of the manga we’re reading

Mams: the rule is no loser talk at the dinner table

Levs: why do you open your mouth so much then

Mams: i’m gonna fucken get you

Asmo: if Lucifer gets to bring his boyfriends why can’t i bring Solomon

Catan: because Solomon sucks.

Catan: actually

Catan: would Solomon be able to con a fever high Lucifer into a pact

Mams: the downside here is that Solomon would be at dinner

Beel: I’d lose my appetite

Asmo: he’s not that bad

Asmo: and don’t lie Beel

Asmo: we aren’t going to let him cook

Asmo: we aren’t stupid

Lucifer: This chat is for emergencies only.

Belphie: i know. that’s why we’re discussing dinner

Lucifer: If I see Solomon anywhere near the House I will find a way to reverse his immortality.

Catan: wear a blindfold

Asmo: kinky

Catan: freak

Lucifer: I believe I also told you to stop referring to Diavolo and Barbatos as my boyfriends.

Mams: sucks 2 suck

Levs: L moment

Lucifer: I also believe they are in this chat.

Belphie: i know. that’s why we’re discussing dinner.

Belphie: keep up old man

Lucifer: I will remind you that you’re laying in my lap.

Belphie: what’re you gonna do

Belphie: cough on me??

Levs: chat, clip this

Mams: what was that scream???

Diavolo: Belphegor.

Barbs: Lucifer did more than just “cough on him.”

Mams: oh damn.

Mams: so what’s for dinner 

Beel: Lucifer says Belphegor stew

Mams: I thought it was Satan’s turn to cook????????

Catan: lucifer just tried to shove belphie in the oven.

Barbatos: With no seasoning? How revolting.

Diavolo: Demons taste better fried, anyway.

Mams: PARDON???

[cranesofibycus]

A few thoughts after having just rewatched the first ep of EXU Calamity:

It had never occurred to me that Avalir is a cruise ship but man Avalir is a CRUISE SHIP! The floating city that lands in a harbor once in a while and is full of people who think they've found the real meaning of life by living on this thing. The endless luxury and useless amenities. The unbelievable amount of resources needed to keep that city afloat. The metaphor is right there and I had never seen it.

I've touched on this before but it strikes me once again how great Brennan is at making ability check successes feel purposeful. When more people make checks in different abilities about the same thing he will describe in detail how their expertise helps them piece together information (specifically thinking about the solar bow fragment here). And it really makes it feel like a group effort.

Brennan sarcastically thanking them for breaking up the party two minutes after he had finally managed to get them all in one place is very funny considering how little time they will spend as a group in the following episodes.

It's such a small moment, but I adored when Nydas received the homemade loaf of bread from his brother and sister-in-law. It comes right on the heel of a sequence that is overflowing with descriptions of the most outrageously arcane surroundings. The sphinx, the automatons, the hundreds of wands... and then there is this mundane object that Nydas gets excited about in a completely different, much more private and quiet way. He hugs it and smells it like it's worth more than the vaults of Avalir could ever hold, and if that doesn't distill everything about what is right and wrong in that world down to its quintessence I don't know.

The hubris. It's just. It's everywhere and it's already painful to watch.

Anyway, episode 1 was already so much better than I had remembered and I was able to follow all of it without great effort or need for attention. Rewatching Calamity: 10/10, would recommend.

[writingstoraes]

part two of charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader pls your first one was so good!!!

red vs red 🚥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!verstappen!reader

type: instagram imagine/social media au

notes: thank u for loving the first, anon! hope u like this one 🤍 and thank u for requesting heheh, also formatting may look weird in ios devices idk this app wont let me fix the errors in bold letters 😭

summary: no peaceful race when there's banter between your boyfriend and your own brother, might as well just join the ruckus they cause!

reading the first part isn't necessary, just provides context! but if you want, read part 1 here!

ynverstappen

liked by lilymhe, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, and 870,445 others

ynverstappen happy race week, everybody! glad to be back in the paddock supporting my favorite driver ever ❤ goodluck, my baby love charles_leclerc! will be waiting for you after quali with lots of kisses and hugs :)

ps. spending quali in ferrari because i am on redbull duty tomorrow 🙏

charles_leclerc Always happy you're by my side, amoúr. Je táime 😘

maxverstappen Will never get used to this 🤮

ynverstappen we've literally been together for 3 years

maxverstappen And by favorite driver ever, you mean me, right?

charles_leclerc Are you the one in the picture? Then no 🙂

scuderiaferrari Red is your color, Y/N! ❤️

redbullracing Absolutely not, we do not think so!

scuderiaferrari Respectfully, no one asked you.

lestappen16 Love how even the team admins are in their own playful feud 😭

pierreluvr someone give y/n a break from dealing with charles and max lmaooowjwjsjsj

maxverstappen Why are you making it sound like supporting me at redbull is a responsibility and not something you want to do? 😔

charles_leclerc Because it's not.

ynverstappen jesus i just want one peaceful race is it so hard to ask for

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen, arthurleclerc, isahernaez, and 780,223 others

ynverstappen watching today's race from the redbull garage! wishing my dearest brother the best today, please stop believing the rumors he spreads re: me hating red bull. he is overdramatic. anyway, here's a selfie of max and i at quali yesterday! 🤍

tagged: maxverstappen

charles_leclerc You're not in our garage? Okay that makes me sad then 💔

ynverstappen will still root for you, don't worry 😁

maxverstappen Not under my watch you're not

maxverstappen My own sister wearing a ferrari jacket beside her brother who races for red bull. The betrayal is just so.

charles_leclerc Deserved.

f1fann NOT CHARLES SAYING DESERVED?@?@*@*

redbullracing We love having you here, Y/N 🖤

scuderiaferrari 😒

ynverstappen

liked by pierregasly, redbullracing, scuderiaferrari, and 450,221 others

ynverstappen my boys have done it again! congratulations on the podium, men who continuously pester me at every race weekend ❤️

tagged: maxverstappen & charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc My biggest fan ❤️ Je tàime, baby!

maxverstappen That's literally my sister

charles_leclerc She's literally my girlfriend

maxverstappen #1 supporter! Love you to bits, sister 😄

ferraredbull LESTAPPEN WINS ONCE AGAIN

vers166 y/n should get an award for dealing w charles and max everyday

ynverstappen amen sister 🙏

landonorris Leave them and support me at McLaren!

charles_leclerc ??

maxverstappen No.

----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: ig imagines take sooo long 😭 lmk what u guys think!

[beiasluv]

Hii can you write how the sully boys would react when the reader calls them by a cute pet name for the first time? Thank youu

sully boys react to pet name

a/n: yessssss, your order is served / no proof reading because I am a potato / enjoy! 🤍

masterlist

jake (2009)

pet name? what’s that? he probably never heard of one, or should i say no one ever called him something 😭 (well, probably except a loving one from his mother and a not-so-loving from his twin brother)

but anyways, jake wasn’t use to a pet name AT ALL (plus the fact he probably haven’t found a love on earth 😭)

well, we are here to break the curses

it all happened in a one loving night. the stars are shining and your love is blooming under the starlight

you cuddled close to him, resting your head on his chest, while feeling it rise and fall in a repetitive pattern.

until you saw an unusual manner in the shrubs next to both of you. his light blue ears twitched but his mind still laid unaware.

“jake…jake,” you whispered into his ears.

“hm…?”

“wake up, please…sweetheart, i am going to see what’s over there,” you whined softly in his embrace.

“huh…? what did you called me?” he held up his head and a shocking gaze met your eyes, while is arm tightened its grip on your waist.

“huh? i was saying there’s something in the bush,” you replied.

“what did you called me?” he smirked as he pulled you close. “you worry too much, gorgeous, it’s probably a little pup or something.” “now tell me, what did you called me?”

“well, i apologize, mr. perfect, i forgot, i am going to sleep now,” you turned against his face.

“nope, not until you call me that again,” he swooped you up easily onto his lap.

“fine, sweetheart, i am going to sleep now.”

“thank you, gorgeous, i’ll be your knight in shining armor and protect you tonight, m’kay?” he tucked you in his embrace.

a teaser 100% GUYS HE IS A TEASER! smirking to himself the whole night after the first time you willingly called him that.

loves hearing your pet names, it reminds him of what he is to you, being something more than a ‘jake’ to you is his honor.

he knows how you are too shy to express yourself but he never gave up. I guess hard works pays off for jake sully.

he loves coming up with new nicknames for you and love seeing your red face every. single. time.

definitely jealous of your personal pet names.

“NO, you can not call y/n, sweetie, she’s mine.”

“son, I am literally her grandma” (jokes aside, we love a slaying grandma! show him who’s the real boss!)

jake sully case closed. amen sis

neteyam

neteyam, neteyam, proving that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree everyday. preach.

he is a teaserrr, loves making you blush everyday. however, something unlike his dad is he is so much more expressive.

he’ll sneak a hand around you, wrapping his tail, or to the intertwining legs thing. *internal screaming* adding one more point with calling you pet names with a seductive voice.

first time is always hard, but you’ve managed to make your boy blush asfff

“nete, can you help me with something?” your shout caught his ear twitching towards your direction.

“yes, my love? what do you need your hero for?” he ran towards your body and embraced you from behind.

“i need to hold this up but i can’t get the another piece to stay, hold this please,” you shoved it into his hand.

“yes, my love,” he smirked at the sight. neteyam always love to watch you work on something you love, your marui is filled with your loved projects. ranging from a small figure of you two or a personalized cabinet for his weapons.

“okay, you ready? hold still.”

…

“good job, y/n, I’m proud of you,” he hugged your back against his chest.

“thank you, handsome, my knight,” you giggled in his chest.

“what? did you just called me handsome?”

“yeah…? oh!”

“HA! i knew you had it somewhere!” he spun your body around. “don’t need to remind me that I am handsome, while i am seeing you everyday.”

“hey! put me down! or i’ll stick to the basic ‘nete’,” you poked his chest with your finger.

“oh, my love, i apologize, my greatest weakness is you,” he faked fainted onto the sand and receiving a tackle from you.

a lover boy 100% we adore him.

jumping up and down, got him blushing, swinging his legs and tail and throwing up crying, screaming and everything in the recipe.

he loves you to shower him with pet names everyday. and loves getting surprised with new pet names you’ve managed to muster up.

definitely flexing it to lo’ak and, poor lo’ak, he is dying of cringe. “guess what she called me today…uhuh…”

definitely gets so proud if especially if you use it in front of his parents. *insert jake’s proud father moment*

will definitely trick you into saying some of his favorites.

“oh, princess, my leg is hurt, it can only be heal if you call me your prince,” he fake pouted.

“if i call you that would you stop clinging on to my legs?” you messed with his locks.

“oh, I’ll look into consideration, giving you 75% chance,” he does the puppy eyes he could do.

“fine, my prince, love ya, now let me go.”

lo’ak

*AAAAAAAAAAAA* do i have to explain?

although he isn’t as expressive as his dad or brother, he isn’t much less loving than them. no, no, no none of the sully boys will give up so easily on this topic. (the blood is strong people)

this boy love language is definitely touch but he isn’t too bad with words of affirmation.

a certified lover boy, he shy asf, and we love that. amen

loves to make the first move but froze up, which i think is so cute 😭 but this time wasn’t so similar

“y/n, i was wondering if you wanted to go out with me tonight?” he entered your marui and made his way over to your bed.

“hm?” you answered half awake.

“want to go out tonight? i’m free, I’ll take you anywhere you want,” he chuckled at himself.

“what do you have in mind, my lo’ak?” you said with a voice in your neck, not coming out properly as a word but it managed to swoon lo’ak every time.

“i am guessing we could go out to the reefs and spend time watching the stars tonight?”

“my darling, having you is enough for me,” you replied softy turning to face him.

“hm? my darling?” his face becomes redder and redder.

“yeah, my, and my only, darling,” you claimed his face within the palm of your hands. tracing down from his locks to his nose, his pouty mouth, and down his chin.

“i like that,” he chuckled. “then you are my darling too,” he returned the act.

he is internally screaming, crying, throwing up, curling up into a ball, throwing himself off the floor. he is so flusteredddd

his breath hitched up in his chest and his face reddened. he wants to inject you into his vein and it is so painful that he can’t.

definitely attacks you with physical touch and everything. he became so needy to a new thing that he never had before, and now that he got a taste of it, he wanted more and more.

he would beg you to shower him with pet names everyday AND YOU WILL PROVIDE

showering him with pet names in the morning when you wake up, lunch time, swimming, flying, or even cuddling together

loves calling him your darling 100% he loves to call you his darling as well 🥺

will 100% hiss at anyone who makes fun of you calling him pet names or anyone who dares to call you something theirs.

jealous boy for you only. of course, a little sprinkle of childhood trauma, because he just needs a little bit more love. you assured that he’ll never starve for more love, keeping his cup full everyday. BUT he is so hungry for more of your love 😩

loves to stick to ‘darling’ but sometimes sprinkle some spice for you, because he is your favorite chef *chef kiss*

“honey bear, how are you doing, my darling”

“my pumpkin, are you okay?”

case closed for the sully boys, amen.

today’s a great day to treat yourself 🤍 take care as always!

@rosaryos / @bumblinbumblvee / @loudcolorwolfgarden / @nyotamalfoy / @fangirl-2610 / @astablacksword / @lokisblueskin

[lightwise]

Full Circle - The Return to The Outpost

The Return is a masterpiece in visual, verbal, metaphorical, and situational parallel and payoff. We have been waiting for 3 long seasons to see Crosshair and his family come to terms with their choices, reunite, and move forward together, and this episode somehow manages to give us all of it by walking us point by point through the scene of Crosshair’s change of heart—The Outpost. Most likely the themes presented here will continue to be parsed out for the rest of the season, but their fulfillment is begun here. 

We start with Crosshair outside of the ship, choosing target practice as a thinly-veiled excuse for avoiding his brothers. He is reunited, but not yet comfortable or fully trusted. In The Outpost, the scenes open with Crosshair outside of the ship on a smoking toothpick break, and he is approached by a Lieutenant who is decidedly not amenable to him. In both instances he is starting to be a little more open, however—his helmet is off, and in the first is listening to a group of regs, and the second, chatting with Omega and letting her show him physical affection. 

After a reunion on everyone’s part with Echo, who we see fully embrace a hug from Omega, and slip back into familiar banter with Crosshair, we are taken to the dining area on Pabu. This is a callback to the dinner that the main group had when they first arrived on the island, except this time, Crosshair and Echo have come home, and there is an empty chair symbolizing the absence of Tech. This episode shows no other characters besides the Batch (now including Batcher as the best girl that she is). The conflicts and themes in this episode are meant to fully delve into the heart of what makes this family tick. 

Barton IV is, as Crosshair states, a “remote, understaffed facility. It shouldn’t be a problem to infiltrate.” He can barely hold eye contact with Hunter while saying it, when once he was Hunter’s second. Hunter wants Omega to be safe and instructs her to remain behind, but she is adamant that they should stick together, just like she always has since joining them. Hunter almost looks like he’s going to cry, but he relents to both her demands and Crosshair’s input, although he is still suspicious of Crosshair’s motives. 

Before they leave, Crosshair has his original Bad Batch armor returned to him by Wrecker. His old identity and loyalties, kept by his family the same way he never left their hearts. A contrast to his previous mission, where Crosshair and the other clones are considered “used equipment,” and their only purpose is to protect and retrieve the shiny new armor meant for their replacements. 

As they make their way to the base, the weather also points to a drastic difference between the two episodes. In The Outpost, the weather is MISERABLE. Cold, stormy, clouded, dangerous. Crosshair’s inner turmoil at that time cost Mayday his life, and broke his allegiance to the Empire. But on their return it is clear, sunny, calm, settled—almost serene (on the surface). Crosshair has thawed and grown as a person, and his emotions appear to be in a much calmer, if somber, place. As they land, Echo states that there are no signs of life on the scanners. 

The planet is a graveyard. A memorial. A resting place. Made to dredge up and bury. 

A baptism. A resurrection. 

They exit the ship, and a vulture shrieks overhead, a reminder of Crosshair’s failures. Crosshair lifts his head to look at it, and his shoulders slump. (There’s an excellent little explanation of the vulture symbolism here.)

Mayday had told him that the vultures are vicious creatures who find a way to survive. They bury the dead and they take the scraps and they clean up for everyone else. They are shunned but beautiful. And they survive. Against all odds. 

The second the vulture disappears, tension between Hunter and Crosshair begins to spill over. While the others are happy to see Crosshair assuming his old identity, Hunter is suspicious that the planet is deserted yet still heavily guarded by sensor beacons, and rounds on Crosshair demanding explanations. Crosshair has willingly led them to the site of his trauma but he is NOT ready to talk about it yet, and matches Hunter snark for snark. According to him (he should know) the danger (local raiders) has been taken care of. Hunter is even more pissed off as he gets a glimpse of Crosshair’s activities under the Empire, and Omega is disappointed in both of them. Their feelings remain tense and tight as Echo convinces them all to get inside and focus on their mission. 

Once inside, Wrecker asks a question that encapsulates the fate of all the clones. 

“So why’d the empire abandon this place?” “I guess it served it’s purpose.” “Hmm, sounds familiar.” 

This prompts Crosshair to separate from the rest and go to a side storage room, where he first comes across the same heater that Mayday had once carried over to him as a gesture of friendship. It is dark and dead now. A sweep of his flashlight, and an even more sickening sight awaits him. All of Mayday’s troopers helmets, once lined up in a silent memorial, are now in a pile on the floor. And Mayday’s is among them.

Crosshair must have known this was a possibility, coming back. He isn’t ready to talk about his feelings toward this place, but his face tells us all we need to know about his grief and his regret. He steps over and in reverence, greets the helmet of his friend. He understands now. Loss, grief, death. The burden that Mayday carried. Succumbed to. At the time, Crosshair had merely watched. Now he participates and gives Mayday and his squad the honor they are due. Hunter, who has become more and more suspicious of what Crosshair isn’t telling him, catches sight of his brother honoring a (supposedly) random group of regs, but slips away to not disturb him. Yet. 

Crosshair rejoins the others as the sensors are turned off to redirect the power supply, and Batcher suddenly starts acting up. Crosshair takes her seriously, although he is forgetting something important that Mayday once told him—“you’ll freeze to death in that armor—if what’s in the ice doesn’t get you first.” Typically this is Hunter’s job, to be alert to shifts in the environment, but he is so focused on Crosshair “leaving” that he seems to be completely unaware of something stirring outside. 

Crosshair walks out both to scout and to process his feelings, and is greeted with an up close look at the ice vulture that has haunted him. He starts to scowl and as the bird takes off, asks “are you going to be my shadow everywhere?” A statement that could hold true for both the vulture and Hunter, who has followed him. And Hunter gets right to the heart of it.

“I know you,” he says. Or I did, before you became someone I don’t recognize. Someone who would betray us and leave. “There’s more you’re not telling us. Start talking. What did you do to get on the Empire’s bad side?” Hunter needs proof. He wants to know how the brother who swore loyalty to the Empire thrice over and stayed on that Kaminoan platform had a supposed change of heart. But he frames it bitterly, believing that Crosshair is simply repeating a pattern—one that had almost made them enemies. 

Crosshair’s hand shakes so much that his toothpick slips (like the sharp and pointed wit that often protects and comforts him), and we see a rumbling in the ice. Their emotions are starting to bubble and seethe.  

“You thought we’d take you back and not ask questions? I don’t think so.” Hunter is losing his grip on his emotions and physically shoves Crosshair in an attempt to spark the fight. His face is drawn, angry, and anticipating hurt. 

Crosshair remains remarkably calm, not even necessarily wanting to make an argument out of it, but he eventually responds to Hunter’s indignation with his own. And this time he doesn’t hold back. He starts at the end, admitting he killed an Imperial officer, but holds the tender explanation of why close to his chest still. Instead he tells Hunter what he thinks he wants to hear—that his betrayal of the Empire mirrors his betrayal of the Batch. Except Crosshair adds his own perspective—that he only betrays after feeling like he has been betrayed first.  

Hunter doesn’t have time to ponder that information as Crosshair now unleashes the root of his own turmoil onto him—and he knows how to hit Hunter where it hurts. Where he’s failed.

“I risked EVERYTHING to send you that message! You ignored it. You let Omega be taken to Tantiss.” The hurt blooms on Hunter’s face. “You failed.”

Crosshair isn’t even concerned about what happened to him on Tantiss. He’s concerned about Omega. And he knows that fact will twist Hunter’s gut in ways nothing else can. Hunter is their leader. He by default bears the blame of what happens to them, even though his squad makes their own choices freely. Crosshair doesn’t want to let him forget it. Hunter never lets himself forget it either. 

Both men only know their own sides of the story. And it’s tearing them apart.

They’re ready to trade blows but their attention is pulled back to their family and larger circumstances by Batcher barking. Hunter finally realizes where their emotions have brought them, but it’s too late. The snow erupts from a giant wyrm creature, no longer kept at bay by the high-pitched hum of the sensors. No matter the gulf between him and Crosshair, Hunter’s first priority is to shove him away screaming “move!”--echoing Mayday trying to save Crosshair during the avalanche. They fall to their knees and the ground splits between them. They barely make it back to the base as the symbol of their outburst chases them across the snow. 

Plans are made. The squad won’t be safe until this threat is dealt with. Each member volunteers their strengths. Hunter is in mission mode now, his face open, and extends an olive branch after his brother offers to shoulder the burden of leading the creature back beyond the perimeter alone. “We’ll do it together.” But now it’s Crosshair’s turn to be suspicious. Will Hunter really trust me again? Can I trust him?

The creature follows them. Disaster strikes. Hunter shrieks and falls below the ice. All animosity gone, Crosshair rushes to him, panic lacing his voice. Hunter! I can’t lose you the way I lost Mayday, buried beneath the snow.

And now, it is Hunter’s turn to tunnel into the darkness below the ice and face everything he’s been running from. Shot for shot, Crosshair has already been on this journey, already faced himself, his fears, his failures, down there. They can’t reconcile their perspectives, because Hunter has yet to do the same. Hunter commits to making sure that the wyrm is led away from his family, putting himself in harms way to make sure they stay safe. However, he has a safety line—Crosshair and Batcher up top, tracking him, covering for his usual role. 

“We found a weak point in the ice. We’ll try to dig through.” “You’ll try?” Their old banter makes a hesitant appearance. Hunter is still running. Crosshair is willing to try, as long as that effort is acknowledged. But despite their words, they hope that they won’t let each other down this time. 

“Am I going to have a way out or not?” “If you end up where we hope you do.” Hunter needs reassurance of an outcome first. But Crosshair reminds him that he is the only one who can plot his path, and its consequences. Hunter has to take responsibility for his own journey. The way out of this predicament hinges on how far, and where, Hunter lands. And he won’t take shortcuts, even when Crosshair begs him to go ahead and exit the tunnel once they find each other. He begged Wrecker to get Tech back onto the railcar. This time, he’s in the trenches himself. 

Tuned into his senses again, Hunter still doesn’t jump even as he feels the wyrm get closer, until the sensors are reactivated. Finally, he accepts Crosshair’s to help pull him out of the literal mouth of danger as the worm barrels into view. And they run again, leaping to safety just in time, having accomplished their mission. The wyrm is now harmless, roaring at them from the other side of the perimeter, chastened until it finally slinks away. 

The boys collapse, share a fully open look. All they need now is a nod. They have each others’ backs. Approval, gratitude, and trust now have space to grow. They are brothers again.

And Crosshair gets a redo of his trek back to the platform, except this time, instead of Mayday dying in his arms, Hunter is by his side, unharmed, and Batcher prances alongside them. Instead of silent TK Troopers and the insolent sneer of Lieutenant Nolan, they are greeted by Echo and Omega’s shining faces, and Wrecker running to meet them (and hug them. We all know they secretly loved it.)

(Side note: both Crosshair and Hunter have shown self-sacrifice on behalf of someone else in these parallels. Behind the scenes, Echo and Omega have a conversation that hints at the fact that Omega might be contemplating the same. The outcome of the guilt and confusion shadowing her even while Crosshair returns to the light remains to be seen, but it does not bode well.) 

The episode could end here. But it doesn’t. Now the real conversations can begin. It’s late in the evening and they have dug their ship out in order to depart. Bathed in warm light, Crosshair is finally ready to open up, at least a little, although he can’t face Hunter in the process. 

“I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire.” Owning up to his perspectives, not shifting blame. It was a choice he made. “I’ve done things. I’ve made mistakes.” Ones that he regrets. Crosshair's default is still to paint himself in the worst light possible when trying to reconcile with someone, in the hopes that the darkest parts of him will be accepted. He so desperately wants to be accepted for who he is, even when he knows he has done terrible things, and maybe especially, because he hasn't fully forgiven himself for them yet. So he tries to shock and hurt in the hopes that either his inner self-loathing will be corroborated, or his need for forgiveness can come from an outside source. 

And Hunter does forgive him, and doesn't even dwell on the many, many things he could blame Crosshair for, now that his own anger has passed. He acknowledges that he has regrets too, gives an even playing field by saying that none of them really had full information of what was going on when their separation first began, and extends solidarity in the best way he knows how. 

A smoothing of the path behind, and a glimpse toward the path ahead. He doesn't know what it holds either, but he's willing to walk it together.

And I think their choice of words is what they needed from each other. Hunter needed to know how Crosshair viewed his own actions. Crosshair needed to know how Hunter felt about the consequences, both those caused by him and those caused by Hunter’s own choices since. Hunter has always questioned his brother’s perspectives—his mind. Crosshair has always questioned his brother’s heart—his loyalty. Their strengths--and also their weaknesses.

“All we can do is keep trying to be better. Who knows? There might just be hope for us yet.” 

And for now, it’s enough. Crosshair looks into the sky, watches the ice vulture flying overhead once again, except this time, it flies off into the sunset, leaving him still mournful, but slightly more whole than when he first arrived. 

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