#anyway i have bigger things in the works. im slowly but surely chipping away at a pd thumbnail for that pd thumbnail project

[luck-of-the-drawings]

when i was in highschool one o my biggest coping mechanisms was drawing all the kids i hated getting killed and eaten and killed. and well. time is a slowly ascending spiral. you will find patterns.(i work as a blackjack dealer. gamblers are FASCINATING

[kodzukenscorner]

can i get a headcannon of kenma, kunimi, bokuto and kageyama when the power is out and what you guys do together? (can be nsfw but im ok with whatever you are comfy with)

Kenma, Kunimi, Bokuto, and Kageyama during a blackout (SFW & NSFW)

a/n: anon baby I threw in some nsfw just for you 😘 under the cut cause oof this got long

wc: 1,663

✶   ✶   ✶   ✶   ✶

Kenma

Big surprise, you’re at his place watching him play a game

His screen suddenly turns off along with all the lights in the house

He sighs but doesn’t really care, he was playing on his switch anyway

He just grabs it and starts playing handheld and you are big sad

Now you can’t even watch him play unless you watch him over his shoulder like a creep

So you head over to his chair where he’s sitting and crawl into his lap

He lets you straddle him while he stays focused on his game

You’re a little upset at how he can stay focused on games even when the power is out so you start to move around a bit in his lap, trying to grab his attention

He just holds you closer in response so you decide to be a little more daring and grind your crotch against his

You can feel him tense up a bit but other than that, you don’t get much of a reaction

You do it again only this time much more obvious and harsh and you can hear him take in a sharp breath

You chuckle a little and keep grinding on him, whining his name, asking him to put his game down

He bluntly whispers in your ear that if you want him to fuck you, you’re gonna have to do the work yourself

Kenma is hardly ever that straightforward so that sentence alone was enough to get you all hot and bothered

You waste no time at all getting both of your pants off with no help from Kenma who is still diligently playing his game

He does sneak a peak when you undress and smirks at how horny you are

You climb back onto his lap and set yourself down on his cock

You’re mewling at how good it feels just to be his cockwarmer

You slowly start moving yourself on his dick, moaning at every little move you make

You start moaning his name to get his attention, taking off your shirt once he glances at you

It gets harder for you to keep going and all you want is for him to just fuck you

Once you feel like you’re about to cum, you watch Kenma put down his switch

Apparently his switch “died” heh sure kenma

But you’re not complaining because he’s finally fucking you the way you were begging him to

Kunimi

You guys are just doing some studying in his room, he’s at his desk and you're on his bed, silently working

He was on the bed with you but he started dozing off so you made him sit at his desk so he would focus

The rain outside gets stronger and then the power just fizzles out

He groans and tells you he’s gonna go to check the power box

You try to insist on coming with him and he tells you to stay put, you pout but agree to wait

He gives you a hug before he walks out and tells you he doesn’t want you to get hurt walking around in the dark

ha simp

He comes back a few minutes later with some flashlights and cleans up his desk

You both know you’re not gonna be getting anymore studying done so he leaves a flashlight on his nightstand and joins you on the bed

He says you might as go to sleep early since the power is out and pulls you down onto the pillow with him

You are not feeling tired...at all.

It’s like 8pm and this boy is really soundly sleeping??

After laying wide awake for 30 mins you start messing with him hehe

You start kissing any open expanse of skin you can see: his neck, cheeks, nose, etc

it’s free real estate 

He wakes up annoyed at you for interrupting his beauty sleep

He glares at you while you smile sweetly up at him like you did absolutely nothing wrong

He realizes you probably aren’t tired and decides to tease you right back

He rolls over so he’s on top of you and starts kissing you agonizingly slow

After a couple minutes of a surprisingly heated makeup session, you’re practically begging him to touch you

He’s having the time of his life watching you squirm under him

He is going to give you what you want but you can bet he’s going to take his sweet time undressing you

He just likes hearing how you desperately call out his name every time his hands get close to your waistband

When he finally gets down to it and slips into you, you are a whining mess

Honestly, you could cum right then and there but manage to hold on a little longer

Kunimi moves slow but his thrusts are harsh and he doesn’t seem to be losing his composure anytime soon

Meanwhile, you’re coming down from you first orgasm and you know that you are nowhere near done for the night

Bokuto

This big baby is watching a movie with you, but it’s hard to watch a movie with Bokuto because he’s constantly laughing and talking over it

Not that you’re complaining, you love to spend time with him on rainy days like this

He even insisted on building a pillow fort with you

So there you are watching your movie, in your makeshift fort, cuddled up in his beefy arms

You’re watching the movie on his laptop and you turned off the lights to set the mood so neither of you actually notices when the power goes out until after the movie

Once you two finally crawl out of your cave you’re both shocked to see the power for the whole neighborhood is out

Bokuto says this is the perfect opportunity for you to cuddle up in the pillow fort...even though you spent two hours doing just that

But hey! Who are you to complain?

How often do you get his undivided attention like this with no practice or other distractions around?

You two grab a bunch of snacks from the kitchen and crawl back into your fort, munching on different chips and cookies

You’re smiling at him like the lovestruck fool you are while he insists on telling a scary story

He brought a flashlight out and used it to light up his face from below, spinning some ridiculous tale about a haunted house

You keep giggling at how cute he is and he starts to complain about how you’re not scared at all

You laugh even more and he starts pouting, saying you need to be scared so he can protect you!

You pull him back down with you and hug him saying how scared of the dark you were just to please him

He holds you tight while basically yelling that he’ll keep you safe and nothing will hurt you

You look up at him and pull him down for a series of quick pecks on his lips

His smile grows bigger after each kiss until he pulls you into a long passionate one

Somehow this guys kisses always leave you breathless, no matter how many times you’ve done it before

When he pulls away, you’re quick to pull him back for another, needier kiss

He can feel how much you want him and nibbles at your lower lip to tease you

When you whimper he knows exactly what you want

He pulls away the tiniest bit so he can look you in the eye while he strokes your cheek

The unusually serious look in his eyes and the way his hand is planted firmly on your ass lets you know you won’t be able to move around much tomorrow

Oh well, at least your strong boyfriend will happily carry you around all-day

Kageyama

Y’all are chilling at his place, you were just outside tossing a ball for him to set

You guys came back inside for the night to rest up and suddenly the lights go out

You’re both confused because it’s not raining? 

You suggest you guys should go check out the fusebox and Kageyama insists that you come with him down to the basement

Down in the basement, you both realize the fusebox is blown and there is no way the power is coming back on tonight

You don’t think much of it and head back upstairs together and start looking for candles to light

Kageyama is...following you like a puppy

He still has the same calm expression on his face but he’s clinging to you more than he usually does

After lighting some candles and setting them down in the living room you settle onto the couch with him and he sits right next to you

Then it hits you...

He’s scared of the dark

That is not at all what you were expecting but you think it’s cute either way how he’s stuck to your side but won’t admit it

So instead of teasing him about it, you just curl into his side even more 

You can feel him physically relax under your touch and wrap his arms around you as he rests his face into the crook of your neck

He leaves little butterfly kisses across your neck as a way of thanking you for staying with him

Things get a bit heated when his kisses become more intense and travel down to your collarbones

It’s hard for him to keep his cool when you keep letting out little whimpers and moans

His hands find their way up your shirt and down your pants simultaneously 

He loves to hear how flustered he can make you with just his fingers

And boy.... does he know how to use those fingers 👀

He won’t go much farther than fingering and teasing you because he’d much rather just have you in his arms for most of the night, talking about your day

Your voice is soothing to him and he’ll listen to it until he falls asleep

[luvrpop]

the end

source: the devil all the time part: one/? pairing: arvin russell/reader requested: no tws: n/a (canon typical in later parts but this ones safe) word count: 1652 synopsis: you make some bread, and contemplate finality. extra: i wanted to challenge myself to write a reader insert without using y/n et cetera!! im so excited for this, and very proud :) Someone once told you that there is nothing in life that isn’t a beginning or an end. You’re not quite sure what you think about that, but you figure there must be some sense of truth to it. Hell, you reckon that if those words are true every damn thing you do is the beginning of the rest of your life. This train of thought will come back to you later.

For now, you wake up in the morning to begin your day, and eventually you’ll sleep at night to end it. 

You open your dresser to begin looking for your outfit, and close the dresser to end that search. Naturally, you’ll put on your clothes to begin wearing them, and take them off at some point to end that.

You open the window in your kitchen to begin a steady flow of fresh air, but you won’t get a chance to close, and thus end, it.

Later, all the beginnings you started and endings you caused in the coming few days will become viscerally apparent to you. You’ll wonder which one is more important; those beginnings or endings? You’ll wonder if that matters at all. It probably doesn’t.

Currently, you are kneading the dough that you began only 15 minutes ago for a loaf of bread that you’ll never get to eat. Your radio plays quietly in the corner of the kitchen and you sing along, finding a rhythm in your movement. You feel as though you could live in this moment for the rest of your life and stay happy the whole time. But of course, the song ends so another can begin and your timer goes off to tell you’ve kneaded enough, and the tranquility of the moment slowly dissipates. You wet a towel and delicately place it on top of the lump of dough, and set it into a bowl and aside to begin it’s second hour of rising. That means that you have an hour to yourself, and you resign yourself to laundry. It gets boring pretty quickly, however, so you resolve to finish this load and continue a book you started reading last week. 

You’re only a few chapters from the end. You like it well enough- the characters are charming and the plot is compelling- but the pacing of it all is what’s really losing you. It started as a decent slow burn character study into the mind of a troubled woman that tragedy followed like a shy dog, which you find interesting. However, at some point it seemed like the author was as swept up in the world as you were and was caught off guard by the need for an ending. The past few chapters have been a rushed attempt at a satisfying conclusion, and the original message of the story has been lost. The woman started out as thoughtful and resilient, despite the shit life kept throwing at her. You like her a lot. At this point in the book, though, things should be calming down. They aren’t. 

You pick up the book where you left off, and immediately it seems to be trending in an unnecessarily painful direction. You wouldn’t dare tell anyone, but you definitely prefer a happy ending. The appeal in watching decent people suffer for nothing is lost on you. It makes it difficult to ignore the more uncomfortable truths of the town you live in. 

By the time you’ve gotten to the last chapter, your timer is going off again, letting you know that it’s time to move your dough from under the towel and in the bowl to the oven. You leave the book open on the counter (it stays, because you accidentally broke the spine when you first bought the book. Your best friend chided you for getting as upset as you did. “There are bigger things in life to worry about than a 50¢ paperback novel, darlin’.” He had said.) and stand to wash your hands. The front door opens and closes as you turn on the water, and you call out a greeting to your father. There is no reply while you move the dough to a pan, and you wait a moment before calling out again. This time you get an answer,  though the voice that responds is not your father. A smile creeps its way onto your face as you slide the pan into the oven and close the door. 

Something you’ve noticed about Arvin Russel is the way he refers to the people. It’s never “good afternoon,” or “thank you,” or “how are ya?”; it’s always a “good afternoon miss,” or “thank you ma’am,” or “how are ya, sir”. He calls his sister Lenora little lady or hun; his grandmother is grandma or ma’am; his grandfather is grandpa or sir. Friends are bud and fella, and enemies are any number of vile swears and adjectives. You’re doll or darlin’, and you have been since you found him hiding behind the school back on the first day of sixth grade. It’s common down here in the south to call people anything but their name whether it be from respect or the opposite, but even as a child Arvin seemed to actively avoid using someone’s name unless he was saying something that he needed you to know he meant. Most people figured he was just some overly respectful kid, but you’ve always suspected that he just understands the power of his words. As you got older, you got the sense to wonder why a kid so young seemed to know so much about power and violence, both mental and physical. You’ve heard the rumors about why he moved to Coal Creek in the first place, but it never came to you to just ask if they were true and what living in Knockemstiff was like. You never considered it your business. 

That’s all to say that when Arvin Russel greets you by name in your kitchen at 3:30 PM on a Saturday in the fine year of 1965, your hand stops on its way to the kitchen timer. A quick glance at the clock confirms that Arvin has work in 10 minutes, and you know that you live a solid 15 away from where he needs to be. You turn to face him, apprehensively studying the way he sits on a stool on the opposite side of the island that divides the room. He sits with a slump that shows an extent of exhaustion that seems deeper than the physical body. You wonder if someone’s soul could yawn. He seems like he hasn’t been able to relax all day, and even now there’s tension in his shoulders. Not to mention that his breathing’s uneven and he’s sweating like a sinner in church, so you decide to dampen a washcloth before asking any questions. He looks at you in such a way while you dab at his damp brow that chips away at your heart. He’s looked haunted since you met him, like Satan himself is dancing in his peripheral, always 3 steps away from finally claiming his soul, and you wonder for a moment if he’s always fought the devil all the time.

“Christ almighty Arvin, what happened t’you?” You ask, blotting away at his forehead.

His eyes snap into focus at that, like he’s remembering something, and he pushes out of his seat, snatching the cloth from your hand. “We gotta leave, doll,”

You look at him incredulously. “What in the world? You sit yourself back down and tell me what is goin-”

Arvin interrupts you by saying your name again. “I mean it,” he says, and you believe him. “You got- you got to get on packin’ and we gotta leave.”

“I’m not packin’ anything until you tell me what the hell is goin’ on, Arvin Russel. I mean it.” You say, and he believes you.

Unfortunately, you’ll come to understand that he doesn’t have the time to explain. 

The two of you have fantasized about skipping town more times than you could count. A couple of times, you even packed your bags into the back of Arvin’s jalopy before school, planning on picking up Lenora and never looking back at this shithole. You were serious about it too, your father and whatever spends its time haunting Arvin giving you more than enough motivation. Still, you stayed. Arvin would say he’d miss his grandmother, which was true, but you both knew it wasn't what Lenora would want. After she died, Arvin swore he should have said damn it all and left anyway.

When he makes eye contact with you again, you know whatever is happening now is different than your idealized life on the run. Every time you planned this, you both swore you’d do it all together, and that included choosing the right time. Arvin was so particular about choosing the right time. Now, it seems that whatever he did that you two are running from didn’t have a right time. It just had to happen, and he was tired of waiting. A sense of dread nags at you perversely, and you know suddenly and without a doubt that if you don’t go with him now, you’ll never see him again.

He drops the rag then and leaves the kitchen with a sense of urgency you’ve never seen, and you tear after him. You meet him in your room and you both throw together two bags of your bare essentials. You’re out the door and shoving the bags into his trunk before you even get a chance to turn off the oven.

It won’t be until you’re leaning your head on the passenger window of Arvin’s automobile, speeding past the sign that cheerily reads You are now leaving Coal Creek! We hope to see you again soon!, that you will realize that you forgot your book at home. 

[honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s]

Golden |Drew Soulmate AU| Two|

A/n lowkey ngl im like really proud of this chapter. i really hope y’all like it. also idk if i wanna write a smutty chapter for the next part. i’d love to hear your opinion on if i should or not because ive never written smut before so itd probably be trash so...... whatcha think?

Warning: Swearing, kinda fast paced (wish it was slow burn but i dont have the attention span for that), mentions of vomit (at the end)

Word Count: Approx 1.9 k

APRIL 22ND 2020 12:32PM

“I’m going to shit myself.” Y/n said, moving the same strand of hair out of her face.

“Well that’s a really cute dress, you better fucking not.” Naya tutted from her position leaning against her bedroom wall.

“Okay. I’ve got this, right?”

“Yes! Now go get yo man! He’s still outside waiting for you.”

Y/n smiled at her reflection and let Naya drag her out into the hall. Naya walked over to the door and looked out the peephole.

“You didn’t tell me that he was that hot.”

Y/n pushed her out of the way to look through the peephole. Drew was leaning against a street pole and damn did he look good.

“Go get him girly.”

Y/n opened the door, Drew standing up straight at the sound of the door being opened. Drew’s heart stopped. She looked gorgeous and damn red was definitely her colour.

“Wow, you look, wow, you’re gorgeous.” Drew smiled as Y/n did a little twirl in response.

Y/n giggled and linked her arm through his. They walked down the street together to a small coffee shop that Drew said sold “chocolate chip cookies so good you’ll never be able to eat another cookie again”.

“The outside of your apartment looks nice.” Drew teased as they rounded the corner together.

Y/n blushed, sputtering out an apology. Naya hated having guests in their apartment even if it was for a few minutes.

“You’re cute when you blush.” Drew smiled down at Y/n, his hair flopping down against his forehead.

“You’re cute.” Y/n stated, spinning around so she was facing him while she walked backwards in front of Drew.

Drew reached out and took Y/n’s hands in his to make sure she wouldn’t fall over. Y/n’s skin tingled as their fingers interlocked. Damn, she could get used to this.

“Am I now?” Drew chewed on his lower lip as a rosy blush grew across his cheekbones. Drew chewing on his bottom lip when he got complimented made Y/n wanna compliment him for the rest of eternity.

“I suppose.” Y/n shrugged.

Drew gently tugged Y/n’s hands in protest, laughing along with her.

"How long have you been living in LA?" Drew asked, still holding Y/n’s hand.

"About a year or so. Naya, my roommate, we went to high school together and we were best friends. She wants to sing and well her dream brought us here."

"What about you?" Drew asked, tilting his head to look at her.

"What about me?"

"You told me why Naya's here, why are you here?"

"I wanna write. Or paint. I don't really know. Naya knew what she wanted, I'm just along for the ride." She shook her head in embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"

Drew smiled. "I'm an actor. I moved here from North Carolina to find my big break." Drew chuckled.

“Have you found it yet?” Y/n looked up at him as Drew stopped outside the coffee shop. It was a small building on the corner of the street, with window boxes filled with artificial blue carnations.

“I don’t know.” Drew smiled a sad smile before reaching forward and opening the door to the coffee shop, the smell of freshly baked cookies hitting Y/n instantly. Although the place was small, the inside felt bigger than it actually was. There were an elderly couple sitting in the corner beside the door and a young woman sat in the far corner working on a laptop with a forgotten cup of coffee beside her.

“This place is beautiful.” Y/n sighed in pleasure, Drew grinning as he took her hand and pulled her over to a table in the left hand corner beside a small window. Drew pulled out Y/n’s chair for her, she laughed.

“And who said chivalry is dead?” Drew sat down across from her, trying to focus so much on how beautiful she looked when she laughed.

“It’s easy to be chivalrous when it comes to you.” Drew shrugged, looking down at the table trying to ignore the rising blush on his cheeks. He had never felt like this about anyone before, they barely knew each other but already he craved to be closer to her. He needed to know everything about her, he needed to touch every inch of her skin, he needed her like an alcoholic needed a shot of whiskey. And with every passing second it just got worse. He was addicted. And so was she.

APRIL 22ND 2020 2:56PM

They walked out of the café, giggling and talking about everything and nothing at all. All they knew was that this date couldn’t end, not yet anyway.

“Wanna go to the beach? My car is parked around the corner.” Drew asked standing in front of Y/n, basking in her presence, their fingers still interlocked.

Y/n couldn't agree fast enough. Drew’s car was parked just a few feet down the street from the coffee shop, “I might have gone in before our date to ask them to save that table for us.”

Y/n climbed into the passenger seat and Drew drove them to the beach. Y/n reached over intertwining her pinky finger in his as he drove.

She stared out the window, hypnotised by the passing trees. Drew sneaked glances at her, hypnotised by Y/n.

From the Dining Table softly played in the background of their moment. Y/n basking in the presence of her soulmate, Drew basking in the presence of a girl he wished to know. So far from each other despite their interlocked pinky fingers all because of a bond meant to bring them together.

APRIL 22ND 2020 5:57PM

“You’re so golden.” Y/n muttered at Drew as she ran her fingers through his hair. They lay beside each other on an old ratty blanket Drew found in the trunk of his car. Drew’s hands were placed firmly on her waist, rubbing small circles on her still slightly damp skin from when he chased her along the shore.

Drew stared longingly at her lips, trying to tear his gaze away. He was not one to kiss on the first date and the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

“Am I now?” Drew teased, tugging on his bottom lip with his teeth.

Without thinking Y/n reached out and removed his lip from between his teeth. Him chewing his bottom lip did unholy things to her.

Drew swallowed as Y/n kept her thumb on his lip, carefully rubbing it before moving her hand to rest on his jaw.

Drew’s voice was hoarse, sending shivers down her spine as he said, “I really fucking want to kiss you right now.”

Y/n licked her lips, as Drew’s hand made their way to rest on her hips. “Please,” she whispered, taking in shallow breaths, “kiss me.”

Drew pulled her into him as he pressed his lips to hers, her hands instantly found their place in his hair. The kiss was slow and soft, all movements gentle and cautious despite the hunger in both of their chests.

Drew slowly pulled away, resting his forehead against Y/n’s as the both tried to collect their breaths. It was pointless as the more they tried to catch their breath, all they could smell was each other and before they knew it their lips were crashing back together.

This was needier but slow and sensual. Drew lay on his back, pulling Y/n on top of him to straddle his waist.

One of her hands was under his chin, ensuring that his lips never left hers. Drew’s hands were on the small of her back until one slowly crept up to her hair and the other under her jacket, pressing her even closer to his chest.

Drew slowly pulled away, taking Y/n’s bottom lip in between his teeth, drawing a moan from her as she devoured his lips again.

The connection between them, their soulmate connection, tugged at Y/n until they separated, Drew held her close to his chest. As he told her a story about his time in college, Y/n couldn’t ignore the fear that he’d never realise they were soulmates. Remembering the address that Naya wrote in her phone, Y/n swallowed her fear and enjoyed this moment with Drew.

APRIL 25TH 2020 1:28PM

“Mrs Lopez, I’m Y/n L/n, I’m Naya’s best friend. I need your help.” Y/n stood on the steps outside of a two storey house with vines growing on the walls and an arch of flowers over the front gate.

An elderly woman of average height opened the door, she had dark skin which was wrinkled with age although she held a youthful aura about her.

“Of course, soulmate problems eh? Come on in Chiquita.”

Y/n walked into her house, silently wondering how she knew that she had soulmate problems. Mrs Lopez led her into a small room at the front of the house that smelt of incense. Mrs Lopez gestured to Y/n to sit down at a small table as she took a seat across from her.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“I, well I, I think I found my soulmate.” Y/n stuttered, she felt foolish but she was desperate.

“Bonita that’s wonderful. What’s worrying you?” Mrs Lopez reached over and took Y/n hands in hers.

“He doesn’t know. He has no clue we’re soulmates and it’s killing me.” Y/n groaned, the pain in her chest returning.

“Oh you poor thing. That is unusual.” Mrs Lopez clicked her tongue, she released Y/n’s hands and poured her cup of hot chamomile tea.

“Are you sure that he’s yours? Sometimes emotions can cloud our spiritual judgements.”

“Yes. I know. He’s just, I know Mrs Lopez.” Mrs Lopez smiled a sad smile when her nose scrunched up suddenly.

“What age is he? When’s his birthday?”

“Em, November fourth, I believe. He’ll be turning 27.”

“Oh Amor.” Mrs Lopez shook her head as she stood up and started rummaging in her drawers.

“What? What’s wrong?” Y/n sat up, watching as Mrs Lopez walked around the room with surprising grace for her age.

Mrs Lopez didn’t respond as she walked back over to Y/n, a small bottle in her hand.

“We have the same soulmate through every lifetime. We may have different bodies, but the soul remembers. Something must have happened to him in his past life that is blocking him from remembering you in this life. You need to get him to remember what happened.” Mrs Lopez handed Y/n the bottle, “A few drops of this in a drink or in food until the memory returns should do the trick. It should take about three months to work. It’s just a herbal remedy, so it’s perfectly safe.”

Y/n held the bottle in her hands, she could solve this.

“Sometimes, the universe is wrong. Make sure you actually want this, you have the choice to choose if you want him to remember you. Some people don’t get that luxury.” Mrs Lopez sounded like she spoke from experience.

“But what did you need to know his birthday for?” Y/n watched as Mrs Lopez’s face fell in melancholy.

“Have you ever heard of the 27 club?”

“You mean the conspiracy about a bunch of celebrities dying at 27?” Y/n chuckled in confusion.

“There’s a reason. Soulmates are precious and rare so you only have so long to form the bond with them.” Y/n felt sick, “You have until their 27th birthday. But sometimes we run out of time and sometimes people can’t handle it.”

“Why? What happens if I can’t get Drew to remember me before his 27th birthday?”

“Amor,”

“Please. Mrs Lopez tell me.”

“You’ll forget. Both of you will forget that you ever met each other and every memory you have together, will leave you. You’ll only be left with a feeling that something is missing.”

Now Y/n was going to be sick.

Taglist: @butterfliesinthenightsky @netflix-imagines @copper-boom @starrystarkey93 @drew-starkey @maybanksbaby @poguequeen @prejudic3 @nxsmss @ilovejjmaybank

AHH!! did you like it??? i really hope you enjoyed. thank you so much for reading and feedback is VERY appreciated!! thank you and stay safe!

[nightmaretyrantvantas]

So I’m finally getting around to writing out a bunch of info about my Sander Sides au so I hope youre all ready--(its like 1 am im so sorry for any spelling mistakes and missed tags)

So its 1 am on a work night and I cant sleep and I’ve had lots of ideas and canon things for this au bouncing around my head for days and now TONIGHTS THE NIGHT ITS HAPPENING IM DELIVERING YOU ALL THE DETAILS AND EVERYTHING I CAN THINK OF AND TYPE 

Also please feel free to ask about this! I know I got a few new followers from all my recent sander sides art and also thanks to @sugarglider9603 reblogging some art I made of their au I got the biggest flood of exposure and attention on my art ive ever had and I have so much to thank them for, for all recent exposure ive gotten the past couple days( theyre so sweet and lovely and easy to talk to sugar deserves all the love--) and its given me a huge surge of motivation and confidence to post this. And please, my inbox is always open to talk about my aus or my art! Ask questions, send requests, send headcanons or ideas, send fluff angst im open to anything and I try to do all requests sent to me(sooner or later)

Oh oh! and please id you catch any and all the little inspirations or anything let me know

And finally this au is a LAMP au with Remile and Demus on the side

Ahem ahem anyway onto the au!!!

More under the cut so I dont flood your screen too bad!

Ok so! 

This Au was originally inspired by @residentanchor‘s amazing fanfic A Lesson in Practicality and also a little bit by @prettyinaccurate‘s fanged virgil au( I’ll get more into that further down) 

So it takes place in a (currently) unnamed bigger city I based off San Francisco and Sacramento( because I live in Cali and those are the two major cities ive really visited ya know?) The boys are all in various stages of their twenties when they move into a four bedroom apartment together: Patton Foster is the oldest of the roomies at 27, then Logan Masters at 26, Roman Prince at 24, and finally Virgil Collins at 22. They move in together because it all works out for them really, the apartment is in a good distance to all their current jobs, whether by bus or even in Pat’s case in walking distance and with all four of them it was well affordable and was pretty nice. I mean hey it even came with a little communal balcony ( since theyre on third floor of the building) 

Things are understandably a little rocky at first , i mean isnt it always though?

Virgil has alot of anxiety and so he tends not to talk really at all at the beginning unless he ABSOLUTELY had to, mostly communicating in noncomittal noises and soft grumbles, and he was fresh out of collage and barely two years into his job and out on his own for the first time and he wasnt really ready for it either like christ too many people

Patton was bright bubbly and caring. This wasnt his first rodeo with roomies, I mean cmon, hes been sharing a room with his older brother Damian(deceit) on and off almost all his freakin life, nor was it his first time living on his own with strangers(hes lived in two different parts of two when he was job hopping before he settled down in his current part time job)

Roman was extroverted loud and exciteable, he too was used to sharing his living space( he had TWO siblings after all) and before he had moved into the apartment he had tried living on his own and with other roommates while he attended collage, but those just didnt work out well ( he ended up staying with his older brother Remy in his studio apartment across the city while he finished out that semester and searched for a job to keep an income.

Logan was serious minded stern toned and confident, he had a minor degree in teaching that he was slowly repursueing and had been out on his own for awhile before he had moved in. And though cold at first he soon found his group of housemates...enjoyable.

Its about a month into them living together that they learn exactly why despite slowly getting close and getting to know each other Virgil still kept a wide distance: He had entirely sharp teeth.

“ I dunno....I was born with them..theyve always been a sharp pain in my ass...” - virgil, about his teeth

Of course just having sharp teeth wasnt bad enough oh no. You see a few years back when he was about 18 he was young and dumb and made horrifically stupid and reckless decisions under peer pressure and ended up doing something that not only pointedly (haha oh god im not funny) chipped his front teeth but it fucked up his teeth pretty majorly, he went from having a normal overbite to almost having a goddamn underbite and crooked all his teeth, and the only way to fix it( because somehow miraculous for all the damage done it turned out to be mostly reversable aside from the chipping) was getting braces to realign his teeth. So he’s had pretty purple braces over his fangs since he was 18 and they werent expected to come off until he was AT LEAST 25 and he was insecure about them. ( he got mocked for them through his two and a half years of junior collage)

Once the gang finds out they are understanding and helpful and dont make a big deal about it( though virgil gains a significant amount of more vampire related nicknames from roman)

Once they get close and comfortable around each other the apartment is pretty warm and lively! 

Virgil works at the art store as an assistant manager and head stocker( a bit of a dream come true since he was an art student)

Roman works as a part time waiter at a family resturant as well as working at a nearby theater( he was of course a lovely theater major) 

Patton worked at a nearby cafe and bakery as a bit of everything! He helped wait tables, serve behind the counter, and helped in the back in the kitchen( the owners were family friends and he’d been working there almost four to five years at that point, boi knows how to do everything) 

Logan worked at a big name bookstore, and also provided tutoring sessions for highschool students on the side by commision

More FACTS~~

Family ages for the big families go as follows:

Fosters: Damian(28), Patton(27)

Prince: Remy(26), Roman(24, older twin by 10 minutes), Remus(24, younger twin)

Emile is 27 and is a licensed therapist and works as a counselor for young adults that volunteers at the nearby library to ready to children

Remy works as a coffee barista in Emile’s building

Remus does alot of odd jobs, kinda working as an independent for hire and gets a surprising steady flow of work and pay. Hes still a trash man though, but hes a successful trash man( partly thanks to Damian calling in favors with connections)

Damian works at a law firm slowly moving into the position of prosecutor

Virgil doesnt really get along with his family and at some point Emile offers to take virgil in as his adopted brother, with Damian assuring him if he wanted concrete legal papers to start changing his last name, cutting ties with his family, anything needed for it he’d see to it that they’d be providing(something our boi really appreciates)

Remy visits Emile on his breaks since hes literally just...two hallways down and vice versa

Damian and Remus live together in the next, slightly smaller city over because Damian’s work transferred him to a different office in order for him to keep moving up in the ranks so to speak. 

Hes also good at what he does.

Family nights happen whenever they can

Patton got to teach them how to cook alot of complicatied dishes from scratch, a bonding time he adores

Roman got Virgil an Espeon hoodie after they all start dating and virgil loves it and wears it alot around the house because its a thicker hoodie and warm( though he tries to ignore the big ears and the obnovious tail

Virgil also loves visiting Roman’s work on what Ro likes to refer to as “ hellish days” AKA kids day which means goofy kid friendly theme days. His favorite was probably alice in wonderland day when Roman was Tweedle Dee

Roman played J.D at the local theater and likes to hum some of the his songs to switch up the Disney

The balcony is covered in houseplants and and a corner of old blankets and pillows to sit and chill on

Once a month Logan and Patton have what is affectionately referred to as the Cat Discourse

After any particularly rough days at work Patton tends to massage Logan’s shoulders and back to make sure Lo doesnt get any really bad stress knots

in return when Logan sees Patton’s head a hard day he makes Patton’s favorite drink and pulls him into a hug and let the older man fall asleep in his arms while they watch movies

Pat and roman sense each other’s bad days and order in some cliche diner food and hole up in pattons room with Pattons computer and relax the shittiness away with comedy specials and movies 

Likewise Virgil has a knack of picking up Roman’s bad days and always grabs a couple glasses and a bottle kinda cheap wine and they end up curling up together on Romans bed marathoning Disney movies on Virgil’s laptop 

and when Virgil closes himself off more than normal Logan manages to lure him out of his room and they end up sitting out on the balcony quietly talking and stargazing

so loving and fond and soft with each other

you hurt one of them you gonna get BEAT by the others. 

Speaking of getting beat, never EVER mess with Roman or Remus in Remy’s proximity

Remy Andrew Prince can and WILL fuck you right up if you hurt his little brothers. He’s protective.

and where Remy will rearrange your face Damian will ruin you mentally and legally if you so much as mistreat a single freckle on his little brother’s face, despite knowing that Patton is fully capable of taking care of himself. 

Everyone protects Virgil, dont mess with or hurt virgil or you have the pack coming for ya throat

aaaaaaaaaaaaaand thats all I have for right now! Of course more will be added but now its almost three in the morning and I have work at 1:30pm and im sleepy finally! But I hope you guys like this! And please, feel free to talk to me about it, my inbox is always open!!

Taglist: @phantommoonpeople @sweetsweetemo @loganberrysanders

[unclerippuascension]

Granted Krownless jumping straight to a big gaming project is a stretch, but I suggest:

A: working to make your stories better, you can always be better than you currently are, by wroting more, getting feedback, finding guides or advice on how to get over your writing flaws, and most of all getting rid of the "im a nobody and i just write fanfic" mentality even if its just jokingly. it'll take time to get to the point where you have a good enough catalogue but that's just how hard work is.

B: if you wanna do writing for games then start looking for smaller projects that more often then not need writers more than bigger more popular projects. again it'll take time to find those projects, but that's for any job that involves writing.

C: if things don't instantly work out, don't give up! put that goal on the backburner and slowly chip away at it while you do the more important things in your life like jobs. its about balance and perserverance if anything.

I'm sure you made that reply somewhat sarcastically, but I just wanted to try and help anyways! Maybe my advice wasn't the breakthrough you were expecting, but I'm still a work in progress writer myself! I just felt a twinge in myself when I saw that kind of thinking because a few days ago I had the same rationale, and that method of thinking can really bring you down.

A sudden thought- I haven't read your story/ universe, but I know you are passionate about storytelling and worldbuilding by the way you have both dedicated so much time into it but also how much you want to get back into the groove, and you have a good critical eye of other's work of fiction... Have you considered going into game dev for it? Sure, it require a certain type of storytelling and idk how a portfolio like that would look like, and I know game dev isn't always the best workplace, but it's one of the few stable workplaces content creators that doesn't involve self publishing, freelancing etc.

Writers are a dime a dozen and finding artists or musicians to collaborate with is much harder.

[strangesmallbard]

I THINK U KNOW WHAT IM GOING TO SAY BUT I'LL SAY IT ANYWAY: BSG AU!!!!!

(”there’s a prophecy, you know. one of those myths you learn about a kid. a savior, born from a past full of troubles, will lead her struggling people to the land where they will know peace.”)

1. 

regina is forty-second in line for the presidency. its kept her mother at bay enough to stay on leonis and out of her life, but now–

“mom,” henry says, voice more quiet than she’s ever heard. his three month old scowl is gone and she doesn’t want it back, she wants him to look at her with warmth again, but anything, anything is better than his stretched brow, pinched mouth, his fingernails digging into her arm. “mom, what’s going on?”

oh, she could lie to him. sing away the nightmares just outside. 

“ma’am?” she hears. she can only focus on her son, the spool of numbers in her hand, the chip in her mauve nail polish. 

regina is forty-second in line for the presidency, and number forty-one has just died outside caprican airspace. regina was a teacher once and never donned a pencil skirt again. regina had a horse outside caprica city. rocinante. regina adopted a son even though everyone said she couldn’t. regina–

“someone,” she says, and clears away a storm in her throat. she holds her son’s hand. she rolls back her shoulders and fixes that captain with enough of a glare to press him backwards into competency. “someone get me a bible.”

if only mother could see her now.

2.

here is emma “nike” swan on a good day: 

flight-suit hanging off her waist, the good kind of sweat on the back of her neck, feeling like maybe, maybe nike could suit her after-all, like she doesn’t have bigger and better shoes to fill, the sweet hum of her viper, trading freshly won cubits for a geminon cigar with lucas in the barracks, circling numbers for apartments she’d maybe like to live in after, after.

after.

it’s not a good day.

“what the frak do you mean the president isn’t meeting us at the rendezvous? isn’t the president dead?” emma stops zipping up her flight suit to stare.

“new one stepped up. regina mills.”

“who? wait, the speaker from the education department at the ceremony earlier? how–”

“it’s not for you to worry about,” commander nolan says with his usual small, thin lipped smile, the one that’s supposed to be calming and is not frakking calming when frakking cylons are murdering her fam–

emma swallows bile. she bites it too. “i could show up on colonial one. tell she’s being–”

nolan sighs, and its sharp enough to shut her up. “don’t veer off course, nike.” he manages a quirk of a grin. “and bring in the cat.”

she manages one back. she manages a salute.

she doesn’t manage to follow orders.

3.

regina mills is standing on the galactica with her son’s hand in hers, and the fate of the fleet in another. her heels click on the metal underneath and she wishes she could shuck them out an airlock.

commander david nolan, whose hand she shook earlier, who argued with her about networking and legacies, does not look like he’s currently staving off the aftershocks of a war. except around the eyes.

“madame president,” he says, carefully, uncertainly. her neck flushes with annoyance. he looks at henry, who is taking in the galactica in active duty–viper pilots whizzing by her hastily created presidential team, engineers half-suited from sleep pushing crucial pieces of tech on carts. “i understand this is probably an undertaking you didn’t antici–”

“commander, is there a reason your viper squad leader, this emma swan, showed up on my landing pad and demanded to speak with me while i was in the middle of something incredibly important?”

4.

“nike, nike, come in, nike. emma.” nolan’s fist is clenched over the comm. “please.” regina hears gwen suck in a breath over swan’s feed, and the whole cic caves into this one singular moment, the static overbearing. 

nolan’s eyes meet hers. there’s a desperation sunk into the folds on his forehead that regina frankly never wanted to see.

“commander,” she says, firmly. “we have to go. the cylons–”

“i am not leaving my best pilot–”

something constricts in regina’s chest, sharp and in the shape of henry’s undying, unfounded adoration for nike, who’s about to get them all killed. (in the shape of emma swan, who made him smile for the first time in weeks.) “this fleet has fifty thousand people, and one of them will–”

he slams a fist down. “she’s still out there! we haven’t given them enough time–”

“sir,” gwen says, startled. “sir, there’s a cylon ship coming our way–”

regina shakes her head and presses forward. nolan stands tall. she hears marian’s quiet oh, frak behind her, even from behind a clipboard. “commander, i know you still think i’m a silly schoolteacher, but mark my words, i will use the full force of the law of all twelve colonies in order to–”

“hey! is some…on the comms?” 

gwen lets out a breath. “lieutenant swan, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“good to hear the fleet’s still flying. i’m elbows deep in cylon ship right now so i’d really like it if no one shot me down?”

nolan lets out a laugh. “roger that. bring her in.”

after the flight dek crew hauls her out and shout her praises, she lands in front of regina absolutely covered head to toe in cylon gunk, and manages to give her something of a nonchalant glare anyway. “what? here to yell at me again? put me in the brig?”

the crew has the good sense to step back and get back to work.

“i don’t think you understand what’s happening, lieutenant.”

“come again, madame president?”

regina steps forward, sharply. “i may not understand every military term, but i do know that being a relentless showboat is going to get this entire fleet killed before you can say toaster.”

swan puts her hands on her hips and she’s a striking picture in the grey glare of the flight deck. striking even to regina. she cracks a tired laugh. “yeah? and we’re alive right now anyway. oh, and tell that to the other guy who managed to score enough cylon tech to really understand what we’re up against.”

regina tugs her lips up. “you better hope it’s worth it, nike,” she bites. sleepless nights roil in her gut and her chest burns, burns. “because every time we lose, you lose, it could be the last.”

swan eyes bore into hers. she salutes her, slowly. “yes, sir.”

she turns to leave, tracking gunk all the way, and that something constricts again. “swan,” she says, wary and full. “henry will be…glad to know that you’re alive.”

she turns back, a small smile crossing her face. “tell him there’s a dessert ration with his name on it.”

before she can answer, swan turns again and leaves.

regina steels herself against the day, against tomorrow and however many they have left, and walks on. her heels click against the floor, and she doesn’t think of grassy fields and quiet routines that can’t exist.

5.

regina mills is a good frakking president.

she’s collected in moments she needs to be, but there’s a fire behind her eyes that seems endless, boundless. it builds when people don’t get that they. will. die, they will never, ever get to earth if they won’t listen to her. it’s in the set of her jaw, her shoulders reared forward, the dangerous hand she puts on a hip.

and boy is there shit she does that emma doesn’t agree with, but.

it’s why they’re all alive.

(and it’s why regina breathes out exhaustion in the aftershocks. not that emma doesn’t believe she can’t handle it. not anymore. not that emma is. worried. worried enough to wonder if she ever frakking sleeps, worried enough to memorize her extension number, just in case–)

and well, not that emma would ever tell her. to her face, anyway.

but maybe to her son. 

who’s taken with emma, for some reason. or well, with nike. the victorious hero. the one the fleet needs her to be. (ha).

“my birth mom, you know, she’s probably…” henry swallows and ripples the pages of his book. “you know, what happened to everyone probably happened to her. but i don’t know that because she didn’t tell me that–”

“henry,” emma says, and folds her hands in front of her. she swallows. “kid, there’s something…i need to talk to you about.”

the next time they solve some crisis–water of all things–regina catches her arm on the way into the raptor. the corners of her eyes soften. a breeze from the ice planet sweeps hair across her shoulders.

emma’s holding her damn breath.

“thanks,” she says. she smiles, small and sure. her eyes turn bright. a new president regina mills that emma has never met before. “for…thanks.”

“too many people have lost someone,” emma says quietly with a shrug big enough to catch whatever’s building up in her throat. “you shouldn’t lose each other to some…hypothetical.”

mills keeps looking at her, something far-off catching her eyes. “we don’t have those anymore, do we, lieutenant,” she says. 

before she can answer, mills walks into the raptor.

6.

who does swan have, regina thinks before she can stop herself into the dark of her barracks, her son snoring softly across the room.

7. 

“no,” regina says, because lieutenant emma swan is still not the commander, even when she acts more like a commander than nolan.

swan grits her teeth and cocks her head. “then we’re going to lose half the fleet, madame president.”

she smiles and straightens out a stack of papers–numbers, food inventories, the lifeblood of the fleet. “at least you managed the title right even if you refuse to honor it, nike.” she lets the syllable roll slowly, lips curling around the i.

swan’s face turns stony, turns red. “then think about your son–”

too far.

“get out.”

she doesn’t. she lifts her arms, and her voice goes softer. “we’re on the same side, regina. we always have been.”

regina presses a hand against her side, breathing, one, two, three. “out.”

8.

she finds swan by the memorial wall. flight suit hanging off her waist, and her arms are half wrapped around herself.

she’s not looking at anyone in particular.

“isn’t it your sleep cycle?” regina says, coming up next to her. without meaning to, her eyes begin to search the smiling faces for a picture that isn’t there. a picture regina isn’t sure she wants memorialized.

swan sighs. “they look so frakking human.”

regina lifts her head, and holds herself. “well, they’re not. that much is clear.”

“it’s not that, madame president.” she feels emma turns. “she…zelena or, whatever she’s really called, she had. conviction. motivation. she was carrying out orders, sure, but she…wanted to.”

she thinks of zelena’s eyes now, bright and wild when they hauled her into a cell. her palms itch, and she she shakes her head against another onslaught of tears.  “…the cylons want us dead, swan.” she finally turns and searches swan’s eyes now. “whatever you want to think, whatever’s true. they will still want us dead. that’s what matters now.”

swan snorts softly. “how frakking human.” she rubs the back of her neck and looks at regina again. “don’t you have a debrief with nolan?”

regina swallows. “i do.” she watches the lines on emma’s forehead, the arm still tucked around her waist. “i suppose i wanted to make sure that you…were handling things. 

swan raises a brow. “handling things?” she laughs fully now, warm. regina’s stomach tigthens. she’s not sure she’s ever heard swan laugh before. “concerned about my emotional health, now?”

“perish the thought,” regina quips. she shifts on her feet, and clears her thraot. “well, i see you’re not drowning in the bottle, lieutenant, so…” she gestures. “i’ll just…”

“thanks,” swan says quickly. “sorry, i mean. for before. for believing me about zelena. i know that was difficult, but–”

“not every day a cylon pretends to be your half-sister.” she stretches out her palm in front of her, and stares at it. “it was ridiculous, wishful thinking in the first place.” 

“still.”

she looks up and swan’s eyes are bright. her brow softens. her arms have dropped from her waist. regina can’t deal with that, anything like that. 

she shakes her head, and steps away. she steels her voice to something casual and sharp. “goodnight, lieutenant.”

9.

after they find the cylon base, after emma dons her flight-suit emblazoned NIKE in the fleet’s colors and her viper squad blasts those toasters to the void they came from, david is looking at them, looking at her, with pride beaming lights on his face. the crew is cheering and no one looks half in the grave for once. someone’s even passing around frakking champagne. who knows where they got it.

president mills is laughing too, clapping along with them, part of the crew, part of the team. it’s a sight to behold, and emma lets herself hold onto the thought. henry is jumping up and down beside her, having been allowed on the galactica to join the celebration.

“to captain emma swan! for getting the hell out of dodge and bringing the fleet to safety once again.”

everyone laughs and–

suddenly, mills’ go wide, mouth slack and brow wrinkled in horror over the thrum of the cheers, and emma opens her mouth to–

pain bursts in her sternum. her fingers come back red.

the last thing she sees is david holding a gun, smoking softly at the barrel. face blank, blank, blank.

10.

“i didn’t…” david frowns, and his voice is wobbly. he furiously wipes at his eyes, his whole face. “frak, regina, i don’t even remember doing it! 

regina laughs, dark and low, and shaking, shaking all over, swan’s, emma’s blood matting on her nice, mother-approved caprican shirt. she stops pacing and steps up to him, a snarl slashed across her face. “you don’t remember trying to murder your standing XO? you don’t remember–”

“no!” david shouts, and wraps a hand around the bars. “damnit, mills! i’ve worked with you for six months! why would i–”

regina puts both hands on the bars and laughs in his face, doesn’t care if she spits at him. “i think you know why, david. and if she,” her voice breaks unexpectedly and she re-sets the snarl. “if the captain dies, i will destroy you toaster bastards back into the shrapnel you were born from.”

11. 

there’s a scream, her name, someone is screaming her name but its muffled as though underwater, and a hand is outstretched trying to pull her up, the hand’s face obscured by a ripple, and–

she opens her eyes and squints against harsh lights and sees henry, quietly reading on the chair next to her, his legs too short to reach the floor. she smiles and something in her sternum is warm and aches, aches, aches.

something in her sternum also frakking hurts.

“henry,” she rasps, “what–”

then, she remembers. she remembers. she presses her fist onto her forehead and presses it against her mouth when a sob wells up like vomit.

“nike?” henry says, and closes his book in an instant. “emma? emma! doctor whale, emma’s awake!”

emma bites her first and swallows it.  she has to. “hey, kid.”

“it’s alright, emma,” henry says and fidgets with his book. he gives a watery smile. “commander nolan…” he frowns and his brows furrow into something too vicious. “the cylon didn’t get away.”

emma nods and the second henry walks away to find whale, she lets out a sob. it shakes her whole body. shakes it cold.

12.

swan’s walking with a cane and her face is sallow, but. she’s okay. she’s alive, pushing through every step with the strength regina has come to know.

she’s okay.

regina breathes sharply through her nose, and beckons her in with an arm and a head tilt to the couch. 

“captain swan,” she says. she plasters on the most genuine politician’s smile she can muster. “doctor whale, and henry, have told me you’re expected to make a full recovery.”

swan laughs lightly, and winces. “sure as frak doesn’t feel like it, but yeah.” she extends her cane out and slowly lowers herself to the couch, holding her sternum all the way. regina sits after her, and crosses her legs.

swan winces again, and looks up her. quirks a brow. “why did you call me up here, madame president?”

regina reaches for the box on the table, and hands it to emma. eyebrow firmly in place, emma slowly opens the box and her eyes slowly widen as she takes in what type of pin is attached to the velvet. “regina…sorry, madame president, i…don’t think i.” she thins her lips. “i don’t think i’m–”

“captain emma swan, this isn’t some charity prize. you, yes, you with your stubbornness, your constant, infuriating insubordination, your–

“having fun talking me up, mills?” there’s a small smile on her lips, but her eyes are big and shining and there’s a crease between her brow.

she takes a deep breath. “as i was saying, you with all that, have shown great leadership. you are one of the reasons the fleet still flies, captain. w–they need you right now.” she tilts her head again. “once you make that full recovery, will you accept this duty?”

swan stares forward, stricken. she lets out a bark of laughter. “i was about to quit the fleet, you know. before. maybe. i was thinking about it. nolan…” she clears her throat, and keeps staring.

“i was two steps away from quitting politics,” regina says, unintentionally softer. she shifts her crossed legs. “then again, i always was.” she catches swan’s eyes. “i’ll give you twenty-four hours to–”

“no…wait,” she picks up the pin and turns it over. she clenches it in her hand and smiles, though the crease between her brow remains. “i’ll do it. commander swan? better ring than captain, i think.”

regina smiles back, real this time.

**

(she laughs. “there’s a reason that’s a myth, emma. there’s no saviors, just…people. making decisions, making sure one of them is right. hoping one of them is right. we don’t have time for peace anymore.”

“how about hoping for hope, regina?”

“maybe. maybe that.”)

[survivorkvaloya]

Episode #9: “CHRISTINE WENTWORTH IS BACK LADIES” - Christine

umm. my only hope is to vote out my student to survive this round. he basically admitted to wanting to be lily/willow/q's goat and i would never go after him but if he wants to play that kind of game then literally JD can be my student, or jack can be, or fucking nicholas idgaf. my plan for next tribal is to convince gage and jd and jack to vote with christine and i against jackson (preferably lily/willow/q but it seems easier to get them to vote for jackson since i have all these receipts to SPILL of him talking about getting them out)

so idk the password to the a-reisbeger blog or want to go through like 60000+ combinations that have the letter M in them so this ain't looking too good for miss christine

So I won this challenge in a non main with like a score of 400 or something. I thought 1300 was good. I was surely mistaken. Ryan is really good in these comps. I think it may help my game that he is still around because we all have a focus to keep him out. And getting jack, JD, and Christine out will still unify us and they would be huge threats if we let them get much farther. I feel like I'm giving Christine some kind of hope. I probably shouldn't be doing that. But hey I know people flip in this game and I'm not gonna hold that against her. I think jack is going tonight. At least he better or all my plans are gonna be shook up. I'm hoping touchy subjects come soon because I live for that challenge and live for being most bitter. 

"hi i just got out of bed" literally i say this to everyone i'm so embarrassed 

i hope we get christine tonight and theres no more god damn idols but if so whatever, its been fun and I think I've played well!

Even though the last vote went less than stellar, I still seem to be flying under everyone's radars and am not being a threat. This vote should be on Willow.

CHRISTINE WENTWORTH IS BACK LADIES. And also I'm annoyed. Jackson wants to be the girls goat because he thinks me and Ryan are jury threats when there are only two people in jury and because he thinks we're experienced players. Luckily we have Gage who I'm really hoping will help us out this round. I feel like I might be the target again so I'm really hoping everything works out. The goal is to pin everything on Jackson so we'll see how this works out. Wish me luck!

Guys wtf am I doing in this game kdndjdhdhd I can't believe I'm about to flip and make this merge even messier than it already has been, if I go out soon because of this then so be it but at least I can say that I was the one that had control of my own fate and that I fucked myself over 

Hi I'm Jackson and this is my eighth confessional. So last tribal I decided not to work with Christine and Ryan and vote for Christine, but because of the idols played and Selfvotegate, Danielle was voted out, which is honestly pretty optimal for me. Nicholas is at reflection which means he might turn to me to fill him in and get him in a good spot when he returns, and my side of the game fully has the numbers. Ryan won immunity again which is worrying. We only need to get someone to beat him once so we can finally vote him out, but until then, we can only chip away at his alliance. That seems like it should be easy, but for some reason we can't seem to get on the same page. Gage and Willow are pushing for us to vote out either JD or Jack, and it's very fishy to me. Christine is clearly the bigger threat, both in challenges and as a player, but they'd rather keep her than no-social-game Jack and paranoid challenge flop JD. I think it has something to do with the ratio of students to mentors, and I'm not cool with it. The last thing I've wanted throughout this entire game is for the students to get outnumbered. Me and QuilLynn have both expressed our desire to oust Christine. But for some reason Lily is siding with the others. She's all of a sudden having idol paranoia, so she thinks we should go for JD (who we think has one idol piece) and avoid getting screwed over in case Ryan plays another one on Christine. But if Ryan idols for Christine (which I don't think is likely but is still a possibility), it potentially wouldn't actually be that bad. That's because I think if Ryan and Christine had their choice of who to vote out if they correctly played their idol, I don't think it would be me, Q or Lily. I'm pretty sure it'd be Willow or Gage. I don't think Ryan sees Lily and Q as threats at this point, and I know he wouldn't think I'm the ringleader of this alliance (although my four rewards in a row are a little concerning. I hope that doesn't make ppl think I'm a challenge threat lol maybe I'll start throwing). On the other hand, he tried to take out Gage once, and he's told me that he thinks Willow is a threat. I need both of them out at some point anyway, and we'd probably still have numbers if Gage got voted out (since Nicholas would return), so yeah. Basically a lot could happen at this tribal but I'm ready to just shrug my shoulders and watch. I think I convinced my alliance to vote Christine (by telling them that Q had already voted and wasn't going to be on until after the vote so they had to vote the same way as her, which was actually kinda true) so unless she has an idol or something crazy happens I'm probably okay. Okay bye

Hiii okay so I always say I'm going to do a good long confessional and I always say I'm gonna a do better in this game but I'm so far out of it right now. Im slowly getting back to it and if tonights vote goes the right way then I think that it will work out. Indo think though that I have 0% chance of winning of I get to the end because I've played such a flop game but besides that! Tomorrow me and LA will be fully moved to the new apartment :D

(Willow asked for an extension on her confessional but got clocced before she could submit)