#behind a cut bc it's a long winding tale when i tell it :)

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

I really like hearing people's stories so (if you want to and it's totally okay if you don't) how did you and actuallylukedanes meet/get together/get married?

I’ve had this buried in my inbox for so long, Anon, I’m sorry! Since today is my wedding anniversary with @actuallylukedanes, it seems like the perfect day to tell this story. My memory isn’t the greatest, so my spouse might be able to challenge me on some of the details, but here’s my side of the story. :)

In 2004, I was home from my freshman year of college. It had been a total disaster, as I was a tiny (undiagnosed) bipolar/Autistic/anxious/ADHD hot mess of a human, and I ended up remaining at home after that instead of going back right away. So I was 19, recently addicted to the internet thanks to college web access, and a high school friend of mine told me about a site called Livejournal. Being a big fan of personal oversharing, I joined immediately. 

Being also a fan of writing, especially (at that time) songs and poetry, I searched for LJ communities about creative writing, and found one I liked. It was a group for queer writers, but I swear that at the time I missed the whole ‘queer’ side, as I was still firmly in the ‘me? liking girls? but i think literally every boy is someone i should have a crush on and have never heard of compulsory heteronormativity yet!’ camp. So I joined that group, despite identifying as straight and clueless, and went about writing and talking to other members.

One of those members and I hit it off right away. In what was literally our first conversation/comment thread, they suggested that we run away together to New York City (where I longed to go). They were that sure they liked me right away. Plot twist: we never made it to NYC, but I did kinda run off with them. :)

Anyhow, we became friends via Livejournal, and then eventually met in person. When I showed them around the area where I grew up, we crossed a giant bridge at one point and a rainbow bloomed overhead. Clearly it was fate. I’ve always been a giant romantic and believer in fate. But I was also (did I mention clueless) an Autistic kid who’d never dated anyone before, so while my now-spouse was falling in love with me and making their intentions known, I didn’t even understand how a person knows when they’re in love. (I was Rory Gilmore, basically. But with better taste in first romance.)

I was also completely lacking in self-esteem and firmly, legitimately believed I was unattractive and unlovable. People act like those who say/feel that way are being overdramatic, but I had never sincerely believed anything more in my life. After all, I made it to adulthood without being asked out on a date or even having anyone express interest in me romantically–my own mom wrote a teasing inscription in my16th birthday card asking if I’d been kissed yet. That could give anybody with mental disorders and an unusual body type a complex!

So though I knew immediately that they made me nervous and twitchy and distracted, it wasn’t until our first in-person meeting ended that I believed they were interested in me, and sorted through my feelings and realized I loved them back. My declaration of my feelings still exists out there in the Livejournal universe, for the world to see, because I have more than a dozen LJ blogs still up even though I stopped using them years ago. Yes, I told them via a blog post. You’d have to ask them whether that was super-romantic or just bizarre. I was both, so I do not know.

Once I caught up to them, feelings-wise, we proceeded to have a long-distance relationship for a couple of years, during which time I got my first job and they moved back home. I visited California for the first time for their birthday and met their family and decided I clearly belonged in California, land of fruit smoothies everywhere, rather than my homeland of rain and seasonal depression. I was too weird for their family, to be honest, though their twin liked me from the start, but I survived the visit and eventually my future spouse came to visit me again in Washington and stay for a week.

During that week, they found a job in my tiny town, changing the course of our future forever. Without really talking to my mom, who I was still sharing an apartment with (and who wasn’t the sort to put her foot down, ever), they went from ‘visiting’ to living in my room and helping get me to and from work and contributing to bills. In 2006, we moved into our own little ‘apartment’ (part of an old house) and having our own lives to pay for, I stopped handing my mom all my money for the first time. 

Despite being mostly supportive of my relationship even though I grew up in a religiously conservative family (still emotionally scarred, thank you for asking), it was the money that led to my mom disowning me and my estrangement from most of the rest of my blood kin. Because we were ‘a team’ when I was growing up and that was all I understood as a developmentally disabled kid, as an adult I never thought twice about giving her all the money I earned even when she spent it on wasteful things and we were left without groceries or electricity. So, in addition to saving me from the life of miserable straight marriage that was expected of me, my spouse rescued me from being taken advantage of, and is an actual hero.

Anyhow, our life together really started, therefore, in August 2006, when we got settled into our first home together, and so that’s the first anniversary we celebrate. The following year we moved from Washington to Utah, where we weren’t legally able to get married until the Supreme Court forced the state to let us, so our marriage in 2015 is the second date we celebrate. We wanted to get married on Halloween because it’s the best day ever, but Halloween was over a weekend that year so we had to settle for a day early. Aka today. :D

My best friend/sister-in-law @actuallyrorygilmore stood for me, and my spouse’s best friend came from California to join us and stand for them. The four of us attended the ceremony at a Salt Lake courthouse, then had bubbly beverages and bits of dessert back at home. I was dressed a little like a fancied-up pirate, as befits my personal style, and my spouse looked amazing. We exchanged simple white-gold wedding bands, and I wear mine with my engagement ring, which I got to pick out at an antique shop and still adore more than anything I’ve ever worn in my life. (The pictures of me with it on it after I was proposed to are the happiest, glowiest, I’ve ever looked in my life.)

As of today we’ve been married for two years, in addition to all the years of friendship and romance that came before, and I couldn’t be happier and more grateful to be with my Leander, who loves harder than anyone I know and is the best partner I could have wished for.

Over the course of the last 13 years, we have adopted/been forced to give up cats we loved like our own kids, lived in a car multiple times, struggled through poly relationship dynamics, donated plasma and shoplifted in order to survive, almost became parents and then had our chance taken away, and gone hungry, a lot. We’ve also spent amazing nights in fancy hotels, driven across the country blaring showtunes and singing along, made our own holiday decorations and splurged to buy each other the presents we always wanted as kids but never got, raised cats we have to this day who are still like our own kids…and I have never wished for any other life. 

It sounds like I’m exaggerating, but I’m truly not, when I say that my life didn’t begin until we met. I can’t imagine where I would be without them. And I would never want to. 

♥♥   I love you, Leander. Happy two years married. ♥♥

[flamingo-writes]

It's Better When The Sun Goes Down — Nanami x Reader

This is a piece for the Anilysium Server NSFW Collab! Make sure to check the masterlist to see other writer's works! This month's prompt was: "I can't hold back anymore"

I'd like to dedicate this fanfic to one of my dearest and closest friends. I'm not a Nanami simp myself, but they are. And I have fun writing for Nanami, and also I love writing angsty things and flawed characters. Reg, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoy my more casual writing.

(it's pink bcs youre Chancho)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: Mentions of breakup and heartbreak, alcohol and drug consuption, public sex, ghosting, lots and lots of angst. This does not have a happy ending. This is also non proof read bcs I kinda left it to the last minute I'm sorry, I'll go back and edit it when I am not in a rush dcj nd

Summary: Nanami’s return to the Sorcerer life wasn’t so bad. It could be better if Gojo wasn’t determined to get him back with his ex. As Nanami tries to get on good terms with them, things get out of control, only to end up where it all began.

I made this playlist while writing, in case you wanna listen to it while reading. Preferably listen to it without the shuffle, but you can hear it on shuffle, no biggie.

Nanami had forgotten how painfully unbearable Gojo could be. His return as a Sorcerer had been nothing out of the ordinary for a Sorcerer's standards. Missions here and there, or watching over some of Gojo's students. But God, he had surely stepped out of the line this time.

He couldn't even begin to explain how much he hated his current situation. Fighting by your side for the first time in years felt like rubbing hot oil on an open wound. The uncomfortable ignoring the elephant in the room between you two, as you two tracked and fought what felt like a million Curses.

When the adrenaline was at its peak, it felt almost nostalgic; though he'd then remembered everything else and immediately made his own reality bitter and awkward. Overshadowed by the advantage of years of experience ahead of him made him resent you even more. He knew it was childish and pointless to keep remembering everything that happened between you two, but that bittersweet memory would most likely keep him at bay.

You were still strong, witty, fearless, reckless and quick to act and defend yourself. The way you moved looked more swiftly and coordinated than you did back in your student days. Almost as if you were a professional dancer. He hated every bit of it. He couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking about you, and the possibilities of what you two would have become.

After the mission was over, no words were exchanged between you two. Aside from the: "Are you alright?" He told you as you simply gave him a thumbs up as you caught your breath drenched in sweat. An entire ride in an uncomfortable silence, until he reached the school and you got out of the car.

"Thanks. You did a great job. Keep it up" You said. Cold, and straight to the point. Closing his car door before he could reply. And soon, you were gone.

As Nanami tried to get his mind off the mission, Gojo made it difficult. He called him to ask for the details of the mission. He seemed amused and intrigued, as clearly you hadn't told him shit. And honestly, he could understand why. Gojo was meddling on things that weren’t his business, and things that had died a long time ago.

"Why are you interrogating me, Gojo?" He asked as he pressed hisnfingers on the bridge of his nose. "Ask your underling…"

"Because that jerk left for the bar as soon as they arrived" He explained. "And I know better than to annoy a drunk [Name], It took me a while but...I finally learned my lesson" He chuckled. “I knew they could hit hard, but damn, I had a big ass bruise…” Nanami could almost hear his stupid grin.

"You make it sound like it's a recurrent event" Nanami pointed out, slightly surprised as he didn't know you were a drinker.

"Oh, Nanami-kun, you really know nothing huh?" Gojo said, smiling widely as he had managed to manipulate Nanami into asking.

"Know what?" Nanami hissed as he now swore he could hear Nanami creepily grinning at his phone.

"No, nothing!” Gojo said as if it were nothing; trying and succeeding at peeking at Nanami’s curiosity “I'm not gonna talk over depressing things on the phone. Gotta go, bye! Kith kith, Kento-kun" Gojo sang and hung up, as he smirked, proud of his little mischief. He sighed deeply as he stretched in his bed. "Soon, those two will be back together" he smirked to himself.

Nanami hissed a curse under his breath as he locked his phone and threw it on his bed and went to the kitchen. If he had understood well, Gojo had just hinted at a possible drinking problem. He tried shaking his mind off of it. You couldn't, could you? You weren’t a drinker...You weren’t the last time he saw you. You were able to party and have fun without having to intoxicate yourself.

You were wild, cheerful, unpredictable. Everything he was not. And that’s what had made him fall in love with you back in your school days. You were so laid back, he could feel it permeating into him when you two hung out. The few times he’d broken rules was because you’d been the bad influence, however, you somehow managed to get away with it, and leave him with some distant memory in which he felt actually glad to be alive. He usually felt like he was walking on a cloud stuck in time, being present and enjoying the little things that made his everyday memories.

He’d really screwed up after breaking up with you...if he could call that a breakup... His life took a dramatic turn. And then, he turned his back to this world, and got immersed in the gray life the average man in Japan had. Away from what he's familiar with, away from his friends, away from you.

And now, apparently, you had a drinking habit. He wondered if he had caused it, or if he was one of the reasons behind it. The guilt started creeping in. The same guilt and regret he felt after ghosting on you. Not being able to bring himself to properly end things with you.

The guilt he’d managed to swipe under the rug for so many years creeped back out, and followed him around as the afternoon went by. After having a shower, changing into more comfortable clothes and in a lame attempt to cook dinner, he decided to test his luck. He put on a dark button down shirt and decided to go to the bar closest to the School. He felt the naive hope to find you there. However, if you had an actual problem, then his chances to see you there were higher.

Such was his surprise to find you there, trying to get rid of some insistent guy who kept talking to you despite your very obvious lack of interest. Before you could spot him, he watched you aggressively turn to the guy and talk to him in a rather rude tone. Sounding almost like a moody sailor as the guy’s face soon was washed with horror and disgust and walked away. As you turned your face back to your drink, your eyes scanned the bar, finally spotting him.

“Oh god” You whined as you pulled the glass to your lips. “It’s too early to be this drunk…” You hissed.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, pointing at the chair in front of you.

“Tell Gojo to go fuck himself…” You snapped at him as you stood up and stumbled your way to the bar asking for a refill. Nanami looked at you, feeling slightly sorry for your tipsy state, as he’d never seen you like that. And he knew being mad and drunk was never a good combination. As you turned around with your glass and made your way back to your table, you gave him a slightly repulsed smile. “You’re still here…”

“Gojo didn’t send me here, if that’s what you’re thinking” He replied.

“He might as well have manipulated you into doing so, has that crossed your mind?” You said with a sassy tone as you sat back down. “Why are you still standin’?”

Nanami took that as an invitation as he ignored your last comment, trying to refuse the idea that Gojo had manipulated him.

“Rough day, huh?” He said as you nodded and stared at your drink.

“Look, Kento. I’m glad that you’re back. I really am. You’re strong, and you’re smart…” You began. “But I’m gonna cut the chase, I’m kinda annoyed too. Ever since you got back, Gojo has been sticking his snobby nose into my business” You explained. “Many of the missions he sends you in, I’m supposed to be there as well, but manage to get busy by then and not go”

“So you’re actively avoiding me?”

“Yes” You replied bluntly. “Mostly because Gojo is trying very hard to bring us back together. But no, I learned my lesson the first time” You said taking a sip to your scotch, feeling it smoothly sliding down your throat, no longer feeling the burn from the alcohol.

“I haven’t apologized for that…” Nanami began.

“Don’t” You interrupted him. “It’s better this way”

“Are you sure? Because you still seem to have an issue with it…” Nanami said, managing to read you like an open book like he always did. He still had that ability.

You glared at him, angrily as you opened your mouth to snap back at him, but your mind was foggy and a big portion of your brain was focused on the little details surrounding him. His black shirt, the first buttons undone. His thick wrists, one of them hiding underneath a fancy looking watch, his blond hair pushed back, his sharp features...And god, his smell. The smell of his cologne luring you in like a fly to honey. Since any words made it to your mouth, your next step was to take another sip.

“You’re drinking too fast” He pointed out.

“None of your business” You said standing up and taking your wallet out and leaving a few bills on the tale. “I’m out” You said coldly and walked out of the bar.

Nanami sighed, frustrated that he hadn’t managed to get anything out of interaction. Aside from the pretty clear fact that you disliked him. However, he didn’t think of the possibility of you resenting him so much because you still had feelings for him.

As you walked out of the bar, the chilly wind hit the back of your neck, making you shiver. You cursed, knowing it was going to make you feel drunker faster. You made your way to the school with long steps, trying to make it to your dorm before your last drink made it to your head. Despite the cold wind, the hot tears in your eyes in a way kept your face warm. As you tried to keep yourself from crying, you heard steps behind you.

“Wait” You heard Nanami’s voice calling behind you as you stopped on command, against your own will. You swallowed the lump on your throat and managed to keep the tears still in your eyes, as you refused to look at

him. “At least let me walk you home. You can’t walk on your own like this…”

“Oh, so now you care?” You said turning around and looking at him, giving him a smug smile. “You’ve changed” You scoffed bitterly.

“Please” He said, knowing better than trying to argue with you.

Your stare on him softened, as something within you urged you to say yes. To have more time with Nanami and maybe cling to the bittersweet memories you were constantly reliving since his return.

“Fine” You said, very much to his surprise. He smiled and walked closer to you with the gentle smile that had been haunting your dreams as of lately.

“C’mon. My car is not far from here…”

You stopped coldly as he mentioned a car. Taking a second look at him, you wondered how much he’d changed. He’d become an adult through and through, hadn’t he? While you were still a mess...Or so you thought. To Nanami’s eyes, you were a far better sorcerer and warrior than him. And he envied you for it.

“Are you actually going to take me to the school?” You asked, suddenly growing suspicious of him, as you’d had plenty of experiences with strangers on the street and knew better than going into someone’s car in a drunken state.

Not that you didn’t trust Nanami. You didn’t trust yourself drunk.

“I was actually thinking of taking you somewhere for dinner and then to the school” He said.

“Not hungry”

“No, but you’re drunk. It’ll sober you up, and tomorrow morning you’ll thank me when you wake up without a hangover” He said as he walked towards his car.

“I don’t have any more money on me” You lied, looking for an excuse to avoid spending any more than necessary with him.

“I didn’t ask you if you have money” He said boldly as he managed to make you smirk for the first time since his return.

“Smooth, Nanami. You’ve grown” You said as you followed him.

The walk to his car felt like your chest burnt far more than the alcohol ever did. It felt bitter, it hurt and was nauseating. Was it really it, or was it the alcohol finally catching up with you? Like flashes of instant memories being erased from your memory, the drive to a restaurant felt like a poorly edited foreign film. The car felt like some intense themed park ride as you felt dizzy with the alcohol whispering everything you missed about him. It was gross and it was sickening.

The Ramen sign on the outside on itself managed to sober you up a little by taking your mind off Nanami. As you followed him, clumsily standing on your feet, you sat on one of the tables and tried to make sense of the dancing letters in the menu. More flashes of memories were taken off your head, as you wondered what was happening and how drunk were you for you to start blacking out.

“Not good…” you muttered under your breath.

“Did you say something?” Nanami asked.

“No. Nothing”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m not”

“You’ll feel better in a bit. Don’t worry…” He said softly as he sipped from a soda you didn’t know he had. When had he ordered it? You looked in front of you to the nice surprise that you had one too despite not knowing how or when. “I ordered some ramen for you. Something spicy...It’ll sober you up faster”

You chuckled as you looked at him.

“And how do you know that?” You asked with a cheeky tone as he smiled softly.

“Went drinking a lot with friends from work” He said. “I learned a few things here and there”

More brief black outs kept lazily painting a rather miserable painting in your memory. As you ate your ramen, you found yourself relaxing more and more. Was it the hot spicy broth? In the beginning, the balck outs weren’t getting any less frequent, however, as the night went by, you found yourself sobering up like he said. Soon, the black outs were gone, however you were still somehow locked in a haze. Although it made sense. The amount of booze as well as the short time, it was going to take a lot more than just one hot bowl of spicy ramen to get you back to a sober state.

The conversation kept flowing comfortably as both of you ate. It was reminiscent of the old days, nostalgic and somehow morbid. As the both of you tried to grasp at the old days when your worries were limited to school work. Catching up like old friends who hadn't seen each other, as if you didn’t have hard feelings for each other.

After having finished your food, Nanami paid for both of your meals and went back out into the cold night. The sky black, stars hidden by the streetlights as you made it to his car and finally noticed the silver color in it.

As he drove back to the school, you noticed he took a small detour, instantly setting alarms in your head.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice considerably serious as he noticed the change in tone from the pleasant talk they were having in the restaurant.

“There’s somewhere I’d like to go…” He said as he briefly looked at you and gave you a tender smile.

That smile made your heart uncomfortably skip a beat as you hated the effect he still had on you. You didn’t dare to ask any further as you slowly recognized the route he was taking. As he slowly took one of the roads towards the edge of the city close to the coast line. He stopped in a rather deserted place, as he got off the road and stopped the car.

Despite the lack of light, aside from the few streetlights, you knew exactly where you were. A whole in your chest opened dramatically as you felt your eyes tear up and happy memories attached to the location flooded your mind.

“Kento…” You said chuckling bitterly.

“When I said I wanted to apologize, I meant it…” He said as you clenched your jaw and looked out your window, avoiding his stare.

“And I told you I didn’t want to talk about it…”

“You’re still upset about it, I get it. And I don’t blame you” He began as he felt his heart beating hard in his chest. “Look at me, please”

You wanted to say something to him. But you knew you would break down crying as soon as you opened your mouth. You took a deep breath and without saying anything you looked at him. His dark brown eyes gazing into yours, as he was looking at you with a rather pained stare.

“You remember this place, don’t you?” He asked.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clicked your seatbelt, getting it off.

“I’m done” You said dryly as you opened the door and got out of the car.

“No, [Name]. Please, wait” He said as he mirrored your movements and excited the car walking around it.

“Of fuckign course I know where I am, Kento” You barked as you walked away approaching the door. “I know where I lost my fucking virginity, okay?” You barked as you stopped coldly and looked at him, tears finally streaming off your face. “Look, I’ll make us a favour and summarize this conversation. Yes, you’re a fucking asshole for just taking off one day and completely disappearing. Yes, I’m still mad about it. No, I won’t take your apology. No, I don’t care about whatever shitty excuse you have for me to listen to you. You bringing me here out of all places isn’t going to change shit…” You spat all in one breath as you stopped and took a deep breath.

“I loved you, Kento. I really did. And it hurt to have you just dissipate like you were a hallucination or something...You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything! And one day I lost all of that. You ruined sex for me!” You yelled angrily. “I could never hold, kiss or sleep with anyone, because at some point I’d see your stupid face, and then be incredibly underwhelmed because I would not enjoy sex. I can’t feel anything anymore, Kento...The only way I can actually enjoy those things is by getting drunk or high” You admitted. “I can’t walk into bookstores, nor eat sandwiches or diet coke, nor drink tea because all those things remind me of you. And yes, it’s lame that all these years later I still care about those things. And this is why I can’t forgive you” You cried, as your voice shook.

Nanami’s heart broke little by little at each one of your words. He knew he’d screwed up and had hurt you deeply. But he wasn’t aware of the actual impact. He clenched his jaw as he felt his chest tight and a lump on his throat. Now the drinking problem made sense. Gojo had painted it like you were an alcoholic, but it wasn’t exactly the case. So you’d gone to the bar to get it off with some stranger, probably pretending it was him.

The dizzying pain and weight of his mistakes blinded him for a second as he walked towards you as you kept bitterly complaining. As you tried to walk away, you made a very poor effort as he caught up with you and cupped your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him and shutting you up by pressing his lips against you.

The sudden surprise made your heart stop. Your mind turning numb and blank at once as you struggled to bring yourself to push him away. However, truth be told, you didn't want to push him away. The poor attempt to push him away was more than obvious. The strong fighter you were, barely making any physical effort. Nanami's hands wrapped around your back and pulled you close, squeezing you against him as he sighed into the kiss.

Finally kissing him back, you locked your lips against his desperately, eager to taste the lips you've been dreading in your dreams. Clinging to him like he was going to disappear again, a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Your chest pressing against him as he felt his own world getting blurry.

He broke the kiss pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how much I missed you” He whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I…” You stuttered, the words tasting bitter before they even made it to your mouth. “Fuck, I want you, Kento” You growled as he pulled you in, kissing you hungrily again.

His hands posessively clinging to you as he slowly guided you back to the car. One step at the time as you both melted in a hungry sour kiss. As you ran out of breath, you pulled away, gasping for air as you gripped his collar in your hands.

“I can’t hold back anymore” You said as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, walking back to his car.

Your words unleashed a shiver down his spine as his heart skipped a beat and raced like crazy, as his pants started feeling tighter on his crotch. He chuckled softly as he realized his own judgement seemed to have disappeared with that first kiss. And before you could even make it to his car, he gripped your hips and spun you around as he bumped his forehead against yours.

“I can’t either” He admitted as he guided you to the car’s hood and pulled you over it. Ass you sat on the warm hood, he got between your legs and you wasted no time wrapping them around his waist. He grunted softly feeling your crotch against his as you pulled him closer to seal your lips together.

As you soon were absorbed by the dizziness of your rising heat, his hand went to your bare thighs as he slowly caressed your skin, going up and lifting your skirt up in the process. A soft moan slid into his mouth as he gripped your ass softly and squeezed it. The way your skin got covered in goosebumps and how you jerked your hips made him moan in response.

It felt good, and intoxicating. The driving desire burning his insides. The feeling of desiring to taste you all over and have you shaking underneath him. God, he’d missed that particular rush of adrenaline. His body reacting to the deeply buried memories now loose. He felt like he was in the best high he’d experienced. Lightheadedness and presence in the moment, he hadn’t felt this alive in so long.

Your hands were slowly undoing his buttoned shirt and were quick to explore his warm skin. He pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he looked at you. Your devilish smile matching your hungry stare. You leaned forward kissing his neck, nibbling on his skin every now and then. His hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling it lightly, making you look up at him as he stared at you.

He leaned forward, kissing you once more, this time a lot more slow and a lot more tender. It was sweet and it was slow and it took you by surprise. You felt his sweet kiss begging you, still holding on to the feelings you both decided to drown unsuccessfully. It almost hurt. It was the kind of kiss that told you how much you missed and needed each other. How much you regretted the mistakes you’ve done.

As you melted against his lips, his hands slowly slid your panties off. You helped him lifting your hips a little but as you giggled against his lips.

“Eager?” You said with a playful smirk.

“You have no idea” He replied as he took off your panties and shoved them in his back pocket.

His hand made it back to your thigh, slowly going up until he palmed your hot sex. Stealing a gasp out of your mouth, he teasingly ran one of his fingers through your dripping slit, making him smile satisfied.

“I’m not the only one, huh?” He said as you looked at him with lustful eyes.

You took his glasses off and set them aside. You were about to go back to kissing his neck when he slid one finger inside of you effortlessly. A rather loud moan escaped your lips as you shut your eyes closed feeling your entire body tingle in a way you hadn’t felt in years. You smiled satisfied as you continued kissing his neck. Slowly, he got another finger inside. The delicious stretch of his second finger prompting you to bite his neck softly making him growl your name softly. His fingers explored the whole he knew so well, as he found your sweet spot almost by muscle memory. More moans came out of your throat sounding like music to his ears.

“Fuck, Kento” You hissed as you took off your top, not caring that you were outdoors and by the road. Up to this point, you were so pent up, you simply craved him like you’d never craved anything before.

Nanami wasted no time and kissed your neck, going down to your neck, gently biting your skin every now and then. Sucking delicately on your skin, leaving marks that wouldn’t last long. He pulle dhis fingers out of you, clinging to your body desperately. As you laid on the car’s hood, you devoured him with your lustful eyes, begging him to get on top of you. Wearing just your skirt by this point, Nanami groaned at the plain sight of you.

He undid his belt and his pants. Your hands playfully teasing your own body in an attempt to drive him crazier and crazier. He cursed under his breath as he couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled his painfully hard erection out of his pants. You watched hi, intrigued, stretching your hands towards him, gently gripping his dick. His breath hitched and you smiled proudly.

Nanami leaned over the car hood, slowly getting on top of you, his shaft resting on your belly as he looked at how much deep could he go inside of you. His tip almost reaching you belly button, as the idea alone made a shiver run down his spine.

"Please, Kento" you gasped, need dripping from your voice as you caressed his dick

He growled softly as he pulled away softly, aligning against your entrance and slowly going in. You gasped, pushing your head back and pressing your hips against his making him go deeper.

Hissing your name, he jerked his hips, his tip.kissing your cervix as sudden rush of pain jolted through your body, followed by pleasure. You dug your nails in his shoulders as he thrusted back and forth, hitting all the right spots. The sound of his gasps and grunts hypnotizing as you got wetter by the second. His length coated in your juices, echoing in lewd wet noises.

He was rough. He usually was. Back in student days, he was particularly rough. As quiet and collected as he seemed, he sure got his stress out if his body through wild sex.

Relentlessly pushing against you, stretching you in such a delicious way only he knew how. Strong and aggressive movements as your walls swallowed him whole every time, breathless moans escaping your lips with every push. The cool wind kissing your skin, only enhancing his warmth.

As you felt your orgasm progressively approaching, the realization of how addicted you were to him hit you. He was everything you desired. And it was wrong. Before the feeling of uneasiness started to sink in, a sudden electric rush ran through your body. Painfully and soothing, as you tightly clenched around himbsoon numbed your mind.

As you came around him, your walls sucked him in tightly, as he was right over the brink, your velvet flesh pushed him off the edge. He didn't have time to pull out. And honestly, he didn't want to pull out. The way your walls milked him felt delicious. As he rode you through your orgasm, filling you up as his head felt dizzy and the world was spinning faster than usual. His hot seed coating your insides, as you shut your eyes closed, feeling the very last of your orgasm fading away.

He pressed his forehead against yours. Loud pants echoing.

However, the world didn't quite return to its regular focus.

The rest of the night went by in a fuzzy hot mess of events. You returned to his apartment and kept feasting on each other, making up for the lost time. Both of you incredibly starved and needy, you desperately went at it over and over again. It was a rather long night. As you feared, no one made you feel as he did. All of him was addicting. His smell, his voice, his warmth, his skin...It didn’t matter how many strangers you fucked, or how drunk or high you were, he felt just right. He made you cum so easily, it seemed ridiculous everyone else couldn’t.

But you knew it was far more than that.

You were still deeply in love with him. No wonder why he had that effect on you. Just hearing his breathlessly gasp was enough to have you soaking wet and under his mercy. Between sweet kisses, fake promises and sweaty sex, he quite literally fucked you to oblivion. Until either of you could take it any longer and you two fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had been a long tiring night, as you knew many of your muscles were gonna be sore the next day. Your chest painted in red and blue bruises.

It was possibly one of the best night sleeps he’d had. In such a long time. The uncomfortable hole in his chest didn’t feel so wide now. Just like you, he didn’t know how much he actually needed you until now. His regrets, his guilt, the thoughts haunting him on how much of a jerk he’d been when he simply took off...All those feelings went away for a night. As he tasted the wonders of the universe under your skin. Feeling ecstatic and euphoric for the first time in years. However, nothing could’ve prepared Nanami for what he was about to experience when he woke up.

~

“What the hell is this?” Gojo asked as he waved around the folder you’d left a few hours earlier in the Headmaster’s office.

“Why the fuck do you care?” You said as you grabbed it, ripping it off his hands.

“You’re seriously leaving for Kyoto?” He whined.

“So my transfer was accepted? Great!” You said sarcastically as you opened the folder and saw the Headmaster’s seal at the bottom.

“What about Nanami-kun?” Gojo replied as the very last string of your patience snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Gojo! You tried to force us back together, but it’s not going to happen” You snapped. “I’m done. I’m done with him, and I’m done with you sticking your nose in my business”

“Do you really think that running away will solve anything? You’ll still be depressed as hell”

“The less I know about him, the better” You said as you turned around, hot tears blurring your sight as you headed with long steps towards your room. “I don’t trust myself around him…” You whispered. “He’s my weakness Gojo, I can’t let that happen…” You said coldly.

You’d left that morning very early, before Nanami woke up. And you left leaving no trace of you ever being there. Unintentionally doing the same he did. It was unintentional because you hadn’t done it out of spite. Your thought process had been simply. You preferred to not have that conversation and simply leave without him noticing. You had had the exact same thought process Nanami had had all those years ago.

You didn’t waste time and soon started packing your things to leave for Kyoto right away.

[yandere-daydreams]

Yandere dragon x servant darling? The dragon is so old and powerful and has been kept sealed for many years bc no one has managed to kill it but the prince was stupid enough to unleash it hoping it would destroy the enemy kingdom but instead it kidnapped the servant who always came by to clean the room and give it some food

I decided to use Dragon-Shifter!Bakugo for this, if only because it’s my favorite bastard’s birthday and he deserves to wreak a little havoc. I think I just have a soft spot for this Fantasy AU, in general.

TW: Mentions of Death and Imprisonment, Fire, and (Non-Graphic) Violence. 

~

The smoke was overwhelming.

The castle had gone up like kindling, despite all its many precautions and safeguards. You were just a servant, voiceless and powerless in the grand scheme of things, but you’d been there when the Prince made his decision. It was one of anger, of hate and frustration and pride, but you could understand the state he must’ve been in. With his army defeated and his enemy marching ever-closer, there wasn’t another choice. He could either release Bakugo, a King among beasts, or scrape together what was left of his forces and pray his surrender would be a shameless one.

Of course, his act of desperation had ended as acts of desperation always do - in screaming and destruction and fire, so much fire. Even in the open courtyard, without a roof to contain the flames and surrounded by untouched flora, the smoke bit at your lungs, permeating every piece of clothing on your body and forcing its way into your eyes, your skin, your head, your mind soon spinning and aching, turning your frantic sprint towards the castle’s gates into a stuttered, lethargic stumble. Clouds of grey obscured your vision, the stench of chemicals and burning stone quickly becoming nauseating, but you knew Bakugo’s rage better than anyone, you knew his hatred better than anyone. He’d been imprisoned far longer than you’d been alive, and rumor had it that he outlived your kingdom in its entirety. Whoever he encountered, friend or foe, would not be treated kindly. They’d be lucky if they lived to tell the tale, honestly.

Thus, the panic that ran through you as you felt a gust of wind flow over you was more than understandable, nearly strong enough to make your knees buckle. You were tempted to stop running, to search for a garden shed or a notch in the brick walls and hide until your blood boiled in your veins, but you bit the inside of your cheek and focused on your target, reminding yourself that the woods less than a hundred paces away would make a much better haven than a fortress already half-burnt to the ground. You were only able to make it a few steps forwards before something massive collapsed to the ground behind you, sending a tremor through the soil and knocking you off balance. You glanced over your shoulder reflexively, equal parts out of confusion and curiosity, but regretted the action the moment your eyes landed on that giant, terrible monster.

You’d seen Bakugo before, but he was chained down, hidden in darkness and made smaller by his captivity. He’d been crushed and barely alive, but he was free, now, his fury blazing and his golden scales catching every ray of light, only muted by the long, pitch-black spikes that jutted out at every odd angle. You gasped, a scream caught in your throat, then cursed, beginning to scramble to your feet, but another small quake forced you to stop, pinning you against the turf as Bakugo edged closer. Still, that did little to disarm the predator. You could only hold your breath as he lowered his head, his neck arching to lower himself to your height, but pain didn’t accompany his approach.

Rather, a weight pressed against your chest, heavy but not oppressive. Hot air fanned over your skin as he exhaled, a flat, reptilian nose pressed against your diaphragm, nudging at nothing in particular, eventually finding its way to your shoulder. Your fear wavered, momentarily replaced with some unnamable, elusive form of bewilderment, and your mind raced to find the logic behind his current tranquility. If he was fond of you, it couldn’t be for any rational reason. You’d cleaned his chamber one or twice a week, mostly when he was unconscious, and you’d fed him every other–

Oh, god. That was it.

You’d fed him.

You’d taken care of a dragon.

Your dread returned suddenly, and you didn’t think before pushing forward with your efforts to writhe your way from underneath him. Bakugo didn’t seem to care for that, pulling back abruptly before snapping forwards, jaw unhinging and rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth making a drive towards your neck, but by the time you’d shut your eyes and flinched back, you realized the blow would never come. Instead, pointed talons scraped delicately over your scalp, something close to a hand rooting itself in your hair and jerking you upwards, forcing your eyes to open.

You almost choked when you saw the human above you, scales still lining his jaw and gathering somewhere below his chest, every part of him normal save for the fangs poking out from behind his lips and his height, Bakugo managing to tower over you despite hovering less than a hair’s width above your form. Both of you were still, for a moment, quiet and stunned, but you broke the silence, your voice emerging in an airy, absentee mutter. “A shape-shifter,” You mumbled, curling into yourself. “I didn’t think they existed.”

His response came in the form of a grunt, uninviting and nearly inaudible, but he didn’t have to say anything. You knew everything you needed to from his scowl, from the feeling of his eyes prying into your skin as he analyzed and appraised, only pausing to click his tongue and shake his head, as if he was trying to dismiss a bad thought without fully releasing it. When he rose, he did it wordlessly, pushing himself to his feet and taking you by the wrist, his nails cutting harshly into your flesh. He was graceless, as he dragged you forward, letting deny the impulse to run, flee, beg him not to kill you. Not seeming to care for your stupor, Bakugo started towards the castle’s gates, pulling you with him when your legs failed to move. 

Your voice was still weak, but you forced yourself to use it regardless. If only to earn some kind of explanation from the creature in front of you. “I… I’m not going anywhere blindly with you, Bakugo. Tell me where we’re going, or I’m not taking a step.”

“Katsuki,” He corrected, harshly, spitting the name coldly. “Where else? We’re going home.”

You were tempted not to follow. You could scream and struggle and pull yourself from his grasp, and linger to see what was left of your kingdom when the sun came up. But, a wayward glance to your home, your real home, only affirmed that your reward would come in the form of ash and cinder. If not swords and a guillotine, if anyone had seen you survive your encounter unharmed.

So, you cast your gaze downward and grit your teeth, following closely in Bakugo’s tracks.

[catstailtavern]

On a picnic with the genshin boys

Fluff? did someone say fluff??

characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli, and Childe

content warnings: I'm not a good writer lmao so it's probably OOC- that's the biggest warning- Alcohol mention (bc Kaeya), slight injury mention (bc childe), and like slight spoilers from the beginning of the story involving the darknight hero. Other than that it's just platonic fluff!

authors note: this for some reason took me 3 and 1/2 whole hours to write for some reason???? why??????

Dulic:

When: Diluc is a busy bee so whenever y'all go on picnics it's usually on his lunch break or after work.

Where: therefore you two would probably set up somewhere scenic near Mondstadt! I think probably near Windrise!

what was packed: for the blanket he'd probably pick something simple or something classic like gingham. food wise it depends on how he's feeling, if he's feeling drained he might just take some food from Angel's share or order his favorite picnic-safe food from Good Hunter! if he's feeling more motivated he might make some sandwiches or something else that's light. He doesn't like feeling sluggish from eating a lot!

what you talk about/do: Common topics of discussion between you two are simple things like how each other's day went or plans for the weekend. it's nice just to relax and talk about stuff that doesn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. I feel like Diluc would find these peaceful little moments to be a lovely respite to his usual life. Nose constantly to the grindstone with running a business and being a vigilante. Maybe if Diluc has had a particularly rough day you two might cloud gaze and come up with stupid stories for the shapes you see in the sky.

Kaeya:

When: As Calvary Captain, you'd think Kaeya would have no time for things like this, but he always makes time for leisure! He loves making time for the people he cares about so really any time would be okay. As a lover of aesthetics if it were up to him he'd probably pick any time when the sky looks prettiest so most likely sunset!

Where: I feel like Kaeya would love the idea of a picnic by the water, more specifically the beach. Oceans are a thing of beauty: vast, deep, and full of life. A muse of many great poems and stories, aka the perfect place for a fancy dude like Kaeya lol, everything he does demands to be done in style.

What was packed: an absolutely flamboyant blanket probably brandishing some type of pop culture reference or meme. As for food, quite frankly, it's definitely more wine than food, but that doesn't mean he skimped out on the snacks. I feel like Kaeya would invite a lot of friends (at the very least venti is also there, Rosaria and Lisa if they can make it. Jean's always invited too, but she's usually busy), so that means a lot of food. 3 whole baskets to be exact- filled to the brim with wine and things to pair with each flavor.

what you talk about/do: The evening is full of tipsy laughter, stupid stories, and various other shenanigans. Lots of shell hunting, splish-splashing, and lazily laying where the ocean kisses the beach. Letting the waves graze your legs as you all watch the sun melt into the sea. After all, is said and done and it's time to pack up you feel a little empty as you say goodbye, but to end this wonderful day means that there are more good times to be had the next!

Zhongli:

When: Zhongli seems like an early riser to me, maybe that's just bc he's an old man fjkdhsafkjsahf. Anyway, I feel like he finds the rays of early morning light peeking from behind the clouds to be warm and inviting.

Where: If anywhere he'd pick to set up underneath a large tree by the flowery fields in Qingce Village. It's a lovely and quiet place with just enough shade to block the sun from your eye, but enough light to still read a book.

What was packed: A large embroidered silky sheet bc Zhongli gives off an air of elegance even in casual situations- for the actual eating part of this event; the foods Zhongli brings are more for a tea party than a picnic. A thermos of a strong yet refined tasting tea and plenty of finger foods to enjoy. Maybe some almond tofu or small slices of various cakes for dessert!

What you talk about/do: Zhongli will spend this precious time recanting long-winded stories of his various exploits and the time he spent over his many years in Liyue. If you're not in the mood for his bullshit, I mean, long tales then he doesn't mind just reading next to you or relaxing. You could even nap, he doesn't care, he finds it nice to be in the presence of friends. It makes his world feel a little less lonely.

Childe/Tartaglia:

When: After a long day of fatui business Childe would love to unwind with friends in the evening/at night! I see him as a night owl, but to respect your sleeping schedule he won't drag you out anywhere at the witching hour or something. He'd opt for a middle ground between you two, probably around like 9-10 pm!

Where: I think he'd pick somewhere on the docs with less foot traffic, surrounded by the lights of Liyue! Two reasons for this: 1.) As an extrovert he feeds off being surrounded by others. Eavesdropping on passers-by, just the excitement of the bustling port makes him smile. 2.) The way the water looks when the moonlight bounces off it as the jet black silhouettes of ships glide over the stillness on its surface is very nice scenery!

What was packed: Childe probably didn't pack a blanket or really even a basket, just an extremely large lunch box! Here's what's on the menu tonight: snacks, snacks, that seafood abomination he makes, and more snacks. There are no healthy options to be found. Childe is a gremlin that is only sustained by junk food.

What you talk about/do: Childe will talk non-stop about where today's various cuts, scars, and bruises came from. He loves to show off his fighting prowess. Very "if you think this is bad you should see the other guy," kind of attitude. If you express concern for his safety he will find it touching, but ultimately handwave away your worries telling you there's nothing he can't handle. He likes to people watch and come up with wild, melodramatic, telenovela-style stories for random people you see shuffling among the crowds. Egging you on to voice over their thoughts and feelings with him. I can imagine him having a large appetite so if you two are still hungry all things said and done, he'll take a walk with you past the shops looking for more things to munch on.

[thefigureinthecorner]

mark/oliver/alex (aka same trauma trio) playlist is doneee

this playlist and this ship are both my pride and joy tbh

notes under the cut

fast in my car- paramore: this song. illegal.

Been through the ringer a couple times

I came out callous and cruel

And my two friends know this very well

Because they went through it too

The three of us were initiates

We had to learn how to deal

And when we spotted a second chance

We had to learn how to steal

burn bright- mcr: i just love this song a lot for them? i feel like it has more alex vibes than anything really but like. it’s all three of them

we remain- christina aguilera: they’re all traumatized as fuck and like i love the idea that they’d be able to take comfort in all having survived that and like, power through together. like, i know alex’s situation isn’t quite the same but he was still kidnapped and experimented on so i’m counting that. anyway there’s a difference between being with someone who sympathizes with your trauma and someone who understands it because they’ve been through the same thing and i want all three of them to have people who will understand instead of pity them i guess

all this to say: song good. i don’t even necessarily know if all of that is relevant to this song but “whatever happens here, we remain” is a v good line for them

six- sleeping at last: the notes for the previous song apply here too tbh

Is it courage or faith

To show up every day?

To trust that there will be light

Always waiting behind

Even the darkest of nights

And no matter what

Somehow we'll be okay

Don't be afraid

as it was- hozier: i’m sure i had a good reason for adding this when i first did but i can’t remember it now, i’ll edit this if i remember lmao

BUT “The love, the dark, the light, the flame” is a good line for them

small hands- radical face: yknow what. i’m adding like 75% of the lyrics to this post bc they’re all good and i can’t choose just one verse because FUCK

If you need come build your home in me

And you know I won't complain

And I can't fix what was done to you

But I'll shield you from the rain

And if the walls they build become too high

Then step up on my back and climb

'Cause I never mind

No matter the day or time

I never mind

And all the angers that they hid inside your chest

We will unravel all of the chains

And toss the remnants all down the drain

And all my hands are much too small to hold you up

I will be there to pick up the pieces

And keep you housed while you bend them up

And if you wind up in the dark again

Just turn and call my name

And if the fire in your chest comes out

Well I'll hold you all the same

And if you need to take this out on me

Well you know I won't complain

no plans- jason mraz: i just wanted them to have one (1) soft song and this felt like it fit them

i and love and you- the avett brothers: the idea of love being difficult for them is just. yeah

like specifically alex has spent so much of his life being terrified of burning the people he cares about, but also oliver has so much trouble handling strong emotions and mark has issues with his own self-worth i think and like. aaaaa

Ah Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in

Are you aware the shape I'm in?

My hands they shake, my head it spins

Ah Brooklyn, Brooklyn take me in

Three words that became hard to say

I and love and you

What you were then I am today

Look at the things I do

loving you- seafret: hi. i’m sad

This is bound to leave a mark

But I'll be proud to wear the scars

They tell a rich tale of disaster

About a love and what came after

I'll be frozen like a storm

Think we should take the long way home

[bennybentacles]

TUActober 2020: day 4- prophet

(prompt by @totallyevan )

i struggled so much with this and i hope yall know i reworte this like seven times bc i hate what i was writing.

|...|

it started with him just wanting to tell one person how the world ended. he just spoke to his savior of how the world got swallowed by the scorching heat and it quickly snowballed into something so big that it began to terrify him

it started with small questions, "what was the future like?" and he would speak of its color and tunes and the wonderful monuments that have been built, talking about it as if he is not sure if they really existed because the people could not know he's from the past. hes pretty sure it was said on back to the future or hot tub time machine.

then people started flocking in, asking for more thing like, "how would i change the world?" and Klaus would be left wondering on how could somebody change the world.

of course there are butterfly effects and paradoxes. he knows everything should stay the same but he also knows he already changed the timeline by stepping foot on it, what's one advice to just nudge the people to the right direction. "let the spirit come on through you" he had said

he knows he should've though of it better, should've made a huge speech about the wrong things he had seen but he's nothing more than a mortal who could only think of the present and nothing else. and can you blame him when my chemical romance wrote some good ass lyrics and it would be a crime to not spread their wise words in the sixties

the people brought his words well. too well, he might say even. people began praising him and his wise words, and at first he lived for every attention he got but it got too constricting, too much and he wants it to stop, just stop.

"did you see how the world end?" people began asking him and he wanted to sit down and tell them the tales of the end of the world. of how his stupid family brought the world to its knees amd burnt it alive. he wanted to scream that it was their fault why the world collapsed and why his brother was trapped in the wasteland for decade.

but he did not. instead he said something else. "the world, It goes, all troubles on a burning pile" ans he grins sharp at that.

he is not wrong. but he also quoted a song and it does not make sense in any means but the people still bought it, still gasped in fear and he fears how long he could hide behind this facàde

turns out he could do it for a very long time. he expected to be thrown out in a week, and then a month, and then half a year but now two years in, he is still living a comfortable life

well, as comfortable as it could be with hundreds of people breathing down his neck. "share us your wisdom oh wise prophet" they begged and he winced.

that had became a problem of his too, these people treating him like a god amongst men and he does not want it yet he can't wash it of him. like how he could not wash the blood of his hands that he still sees from time to time

"Some people hope, Some people pay" he finds it is easier to quote songs that was made in the future, having the work cut for him. Klaus knows it's bad, and stupid, and he'd get caught by someone in a few years but he needed this.

he needs to survive. he needs to live. and he does not want to die so he smiles and quote famous songs and he smiles even if his heart yearns to be free from the burden he has

"how should we go through my boy?" he was asked one night, with him exhausted beyond what he thought was humanly acceptable and he smiles softly as he stared at the high ceiling before him.

"let the wind take us to our destination" it might be a song lyric or a book quote or maybe Klaus is getting better at spouting bullshits. he really does not know and he hopes it sounds smart enough that he would not get thrown out on the streets because it would suck and Klaus is not sure if he could survive living in the streets in the sixties. he would die in days

"great. i'll have the car prepared. we'll leave tomorrow" to where? he wanted to ask but he felt the sandman slowly grab at him and he could only nod as he slept.

..

Klaus quickly realized that maybe he should've asked where they were going because he could only panic as he saw where the hell he was the moment he woke.

at first it was just LA, then they went to Massachusetts. "the salem thing?" he remembered asking Ben in hushed whisper, eyes wide as he saw how his brother nodded in affirmation.

then they went to to Virginia, and Wisconsin and the next thing he knows he's on a cruise spouting up song lyrics to hundreds of strangers. " all we do is sit in silence, waiting for a sign" he remembers screaming, his previous point long forgotten yet people only nodded in understanding and Klaus felt like jumping off the ship because these people are in too deep.

Klaus knows that the only way he could escape is if he vanishes into thin air, maybe go back to his past? present? future? honestly time travel is messy and we don't fuck with terrorists

"you need to calm down Klaus" Ben had said at one point, when he had go as far as sneak alcohol into his room and he sobbed suddenly. "i don't want to do this anymore" he had admitted as he cried and he saw Ben take a seat in front of him

"you put yourself into this position in the first place" Klaus felt as if he was slapped in the face. "i did not have a choice!" he screamed, and he saw Ben's lips form into a sneer and he braced himself for the harsh words that his brother would say because this happened way too many times. it happened back in the motel while he is having his chest burned off and it would happen now. classic Ben move

"you had the choice! you just chose to go this path Klaus" the thing is Ben is right. he is right. Klaus really dug his own grave in this one, maybe even carved out his own headstone with the way things are going bad so fast. "fuck you Ben" he managed to hiss out before he threw the bottle of vodka

..

he is going to leave. he hated this life, hated having people follow him behind like a bunch of ducklings. ugly blue ducklings.

he wanted peace, he wanted freedom, he wanted it now. it's been three years since he got dropped from the sky in a flash of blue ans Klaus wanted the peace once more.

so he ran. a prayer circle, he had said. it was a stupid plan. a rough plan. he did all of that with no help from Ben because Ben is an asshole and horses are loose in the hospital or whatever. they are both annoying and Klaus wanted to leave

so he did. he smiled as he gestured up, whistle leaving his lips and he quickly escaped, leaving his followers behind. still whispering a tune that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Klaus ran, leaving behind hundred of people who believed in him, listened to him spouting out lyrics that only he and Ben knew and had worshipped the ground he walked in. the experience was good while it lasted. but he's had enough. what he really wanted was back in Texas and he's about to go to him.

[i-ghd]

Pembrokeshire, county of castles, coves and film star sands.

The eye was piercing. The gaze was imperious. The message an unspoken “Do you know who’s in control around here?” Eventually, of course, the human in boots, inching forward as quietly as he could along the Pembrokeshire Coast Path, prevailed over the haughty feathered hunter perched on a fence post.

I was no more than 15 feet away, with the summit of nearby Carn Llidi as a backdrop, when the sparrowhawk very reluctantly gave way. It lifted off and, after a few grudging wing beats, alighted again about six posts along.

In the space of ten minutes, as I moved slowly forward, it repeated this procedure: lift off, lazy flutter of wings and perch again, about fives times, before cutting back in a wide arc across the field to roughly where I first met it.

The guidebooks tell you to look down from the cliffs for seals, porpoises, dolphins and to the windy space between land and sea for choughs, those comical blackbird-size birds with red legs. But not a word about this top predator, which had clearly dined so well on the local singbirds that it scarcely needed to move. (The birds sang on, despite the predations.) 

Approach this national trail as you might a long, detailed menu in a restaurant, one with a wide choice of starters, many of them a meal in itself. There are also some main courses, specialities of this county, and you will want to sample one or two of them. However you would need a giant’s appetite to consume the whole 186-miles, still less the entire 870 miles Wales Coast Path, of which this is only a section.

Let’s start with those appetizers. (The sparrow hawk would be in the “today’s specials” section.) I stayed at the county’s western end, on its final thrust towards Ireland. As the chough flies, Waterford is closer than Cardiff.

Hearabouts any three to five mile stretch contains many permutations. The trail twists, it lurches, it plunges, it turns severely back on itself then climbs steeply down into and up out of tiny coves. Little tumbling streams cross your path. Banks dense with foxgloves enclose your way. A flower strewn meadow ends in a sudden sheer drop down to waves boiling over jagged rocks. The view constantly changes. Nothing stays the same on this path for more than a few minutes.

I did an idle measurement on Google Maps afterwards. Made into a straight line the Pembrokeshire Path would stretch here roughly from London, 198 miles away. In 2010, duly impressed, National Geographic Magazine judged this the second best coastal destination in the world, just behind the Avalon Peninsula in Newfoundland, Canada.

Every three or four miles, over much of the western end at least, there is a convenient pause, in the shape of an attractive little harbour, and there’s a fair chance it is served by the coastal bus.

This part of the coast was bristling with unexpected, at least to me, industrial history. We think of the Welsh valleys studded with smokestacks and pit heads, but there is the evidence of long and serious industry in this quiet backwater. The clues that somewhere, such as Abereiddi, was once very busy is in the eroded remains of labourers’ cottages. In other places those that stood up long enough after the decline are now holiday cottages.

We dropped down into Porthgain, an industrial powerhouse  in its day. The roads of England were paved with crushed dolerite processed here. Now gentrification is complete. The main industrial building is now the Shed Fish and Chip Bistro. On our visit no fewer than ten Norwegian-registered vintage MG sportscars were neatly parked on the quayside.

The drivers and passengers were in the Shed, where they may well have been enjoying the exquisite if expensive fresh crab sandwiches, sold at prices Chiswick visitors would recognize. We ordered the same at the Sloop Inn opposite. We were perfectly positioned, some time later, to see the MGs set off in orderly convoy on the road to Fishguard.

The coast continues like this for miles, with a spot of strenuous striding, frequent heart-lifting views, tantalising glimpses of islands big and small just off the coast. Here and there an encounter with a profound religious past, in the ruined chapel and well of St David’s mother St Non, for example.

There are other, bigger harbours. In Solva the man in the car park handed out leaflets promoting all the little art craft shops, restaurants and guest houses. The Dutch and German cars underline the county’s appeal to a discerning international market – the drivers were not there for the weather.

And so to those landscape “main courses” I mentioned. On the path from the lifeboat station at St Justinians, heading north, I am suddenly above a wide, flat,  sandy beach where somebody had expertly drawn a vast jellyfish, so big it could only be seen to proper effect from 200 yards up, on the footpath.

Pembrokeshire’s beaches are now an international hot property.  Hollywood could have chosen some enchanted strand on Bali or Hawaii as the location where Kristen Stewart thunders through the surf with 80 muscular extras on horseback in the 2012 movie ”Snow White and the Huntsman”. Instead the studios chose the wide, flat, golden film-star sands, perfectly smoothed by the outgoing tide, of Marloes Sands, on southern Pembrokeshire, even if they did computer-generate an extravagant outburst of fairy-tale towers on the conveniently flat-topped Gateholm Island, which stands just yards off the headland.

Marloes first broke into the movies in 1967 when The  Lion in Winter was filmed here. Whitesands was used in the BBC4 Richard II. 

In 2010 Hollywood came to another Pembrokeshire beach, Freshwater West. Ridley Scott had filmed Robin Hood there, with Russell Crowe. The filmmakers built higgledy-piggledy Shell Cottage there for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The beach is clearly visible in the film. You will find no trace that the scrupulously tidy film makers were ever there. It’s the same at Marloes, left just as they found it.

You could easily construct a week or ten day holday around this sublime coastland, mixing up walks with boat trips to Skomer or Ramsey, dining out in the many harbour pubs on fresh local fish. The coast path has been conveniently cut up into 200 bite-size local walks, some of them circular.

One took us a few miles inland to St Davids, which is Britain’s smallest city, by virtue of the cathedral. We arrived early to benefit from its remoteness. Most day trippers, coming from afar, don’t get there until well on in the morning. We came across the intimate little cathedral, nestling in a green valley, well before the throng.

In the nave we had plently of room for some entry-level surveying, measuring the startling incline on the spirit level app on my daughter’s smartphone. It is almost two degrees.

St David’s has an understated nobility, because of its size and unusual position. On a scale of conspicuous cathedrals, Lincoln would be a 10. St David’s would be a 1. It was a steep climb up to the city, in reality a pleasant little town, where we gave in to the Italian charms of  the Bench cafe for coffee and ice cream.

Until the early 1800s Pembrokeshire would have been as remote by land as some European cities were for a traveler starting out from London. Railways opened the county up, and oil at Milford Haven and the Irish boat traffic through Fishguard Harbour ensured the rail links survived even in the bleak post-Beeching era.

The trains helped build Tenby into as gracious a Victorian resort as Whitby or Ilfracombe. Novelist George Eliot was inspired enough by her visit to this perfect little resort in 1856 to take up writing. It has been a destination of rare distinction ever since.

A cordon of high, narrow Georgian and Victorian town houses in delicate pastel colours still wraps around Tenby’s sea front. To dodge the wind you either head to the sandy beach on the town’s north flank, or, if it’s blowing from the other direction, seek out the little harbour to the south.

Praise, then, for frequent services direct from Manchester deep into Pembrokeshire, connecting with services from London and the west and south.

It’s still the case, of course, that most visitors drive here. They will find the car necessary for visiting the centre of the county where the excellent bus service doesn’t reach.

Pembroke, is technically on the coast. The tide probes almost under the walls of the castle where  Henry Tudor, who became Henry VII, was born in 1457, (It was restored to its formidable Norman pomp after a crumbly, ivy-covered interlude in the 1900s.) But it feels like an inland town.

The castle, proud and imposing above this ancient town, is just one the county’s rich crop of citadels, The list includes Manorbier, Cilgerran, Haverfordwest, Lamphey, Llawhaden, and Picton castles. There are over 50 all told, if you include forts and the reconstructed 600 BC Iron Age citadel Castell Henllys. Leading the list is Carew Castle. It overlooks a serene millpond, with a 11th century Celtic Cross and Wales’s only restored Tidal Mill. Narberth is another appealing little castle town. If you buy the Welshcakes in Waitrose, they come from here.

[gayregis]

ok also. i don't think geralt's into pet names BUT he's really just like. thoroughly physically affectionate. like he's not good with words but he knows very well just how and where his bf wants to be kissed and touched and what makes him feel good and what makes him feel appreciated both in terms of sex and in just in general and in turn jaskier is very vocal abt how good geralt makes him feel or abt how much he really appreciates him and his company and how he loves him bc They Know Each Other

in a little sacrifice when geralt begins tripping over his words around dandelion and essi... he was shortcircuiting from the pressure of having to speak in front of two poets. ... the thing is that geralt has the capability to be incredibly eloquent, but it’s only when he’s not thinking about it, and also usually when it’s about something he scorns, or a hateful situation (the nature of humanity, impending doom, the dangers and woes that ciri is facing...) ... when he has to speak about good things and love, he kind of becomes reduced to “you make me feel good in my heart :)” 

i know that this isn’t the ship on the table right now, but, i mean, it took geralt four books and like what, 10 years, to tell yennefer he loved her... i feel like with dandelion, there was less, ahem, drama in their relationship (they don’t really on again/off again, it’s more of a mutual everlasting thing) so it could have gotten to that point sooner between them, but it also has to be considered when exactly it turns romantic or geralt Realizes that he’s not only capable of love but legitimately loves dandelion ... not just in a friend way... 

(personally i understand the appeal of a ship that has love at first sight, but i really like the “love at second sight” dynamic in which they realize they’re important to each other right off the bat but only really realize their feelings later... also i think falling in love / realizing that you have fallen in love with your best friend is a common gay/bi experience...)

so i like to put the estimate of when geralt Realizes actually exactly at the point where dudu changes into dandelion in eternal flame. because at that moment geralt realizes that all he wanted to do when faced with dandelion is hold him, talk with him, be with him somewhere quiet, peaceful, and safe... that he loves him, even if he is wearing that stupid gaudy blue kaftan... that all he ever feels towards dandelion is this desire to be with him, spend time with him, protect him from anything that may come their way... dudu and geralt in this moment both were expecting geralt to raise his sword, geralt was already reluctant and never wants to harm innocents, but after dudu shifted form into dandelion, any kind of drive he possibly could have had for unsheathing his blade in an act of violence just got knocked out of him, blew away like the wind. (also worth noting that right before dudu shifted into dandelion’s form, he was in geralt’s form, and that only made geralt actually more OK with using violence than he was with dudu in any other form... geralt’s self-loathing knows. only a few bounds.)

the reason why i bring it back to this time geralt realizes he’s in love is because of that moment where all he wants is to just sheathe his sword, rush forward, and hold dandelion in his arms... feeling horror at the fact that his sword is glistening in his hand. he doesn’t know what to say, actually, in this moment. the dialogue becomes a monologue as dudu continues speaking in dandelion’s voice and form, and where geralt is supposed to repond, it just says: “geralt nodded reluctantly.” “the witcher said nothing.” “the witcher said nothing.” i interpret this scene as him basically being paralyzed with feelings, especially after a shard of ice where he and istredd went toe-to-toe and was told he can’t experience love because it’s a biological impossibility. he’s still thinking about this question throughout eternal flame, and it comes to a head in this scene, because what else, other than love, stayed his blade, paralyzed him?

geralt’s situation relating to his feelings and love are intensely complex. it’s not the simple “oh i have feelings for you but i’m too abashed to say them uwu,” but rather “i was born to be emotionless so i could fill a societal role and specific caste laid out for me but your presence in my life has changed everything and now i think i might be able to feel love, and i feel love for you” ... so yeah he has difficulty verbalizing all of that. especially when he hasn’t had a traditional upbringing with the presence of fairy tales and stories of love told to him since childhood, he’s missed out on a lot of “normal” societal things like this so he does not have a framework to understand his feelings through! no one told geralt that when you want to spend night and day with someone, sleep in the same bed, talk to them endlessly, and you feel like you can be completely honest and truly yourself and seen for who you really are around somebody... that’s love! 

before dandelion’s presence in geralt’s life, the idea of pleasant touch was really foreign to geralt. from contracts, he felt claws and teeth and maybe the sewing of a wound afterwards. from other contact with other humans, he felt nothing except the ocassional contemptous spitting or throwing of stones (legit what it says in the last wish). the witchers in KM seem to go for that masc shit (he and eskel hug for an imperceptable moment, blink and you’ll miss it) and i can imagine witchers roughhouse for fun and stuff like that, but in the outside world, with no one who could ever understand who he is, what he is, what role he was meant to play... it’s a very isolating life. 

i’m stealing an entire paragraph from this other post i wrote a while ago: “tbh there was probably an entire first week of their friendship where geralt flinched or became immediately alert when dandelion got close to him to speak, touch his arm in jest or gentle motion, or grabbed onto his hand, forearm, or sleeve in anxiety, because geralt just…. wasn’t used to anyone touching him, even in a passing or platonic manner.” geralt wasn’t used to kind touch, but he has highly trained mind-body coordination. i think in one part of tower of the swallow in a chapter prelude, witchers are called a “caste of warrior-priests” which just makes me think of the monk class in D&D... which can be a good analogy. geralt is NOT just a sellsword. his profession goes entirely much deeper, it’s literally what he was genetically altered to perform. this is why he has such a difficult time separating himself from his work, because it almost cannot be done. witchers do undergo extensive training, and especially individuals like geralt who are focused on ethics and morality take time to reconcile the physical and mental effects on their body. it’s not really just “guy with sword feels things physically bc that’s just how he’s wired,” but geralt has really tuned his soul and body together as a result of both his profession and coping with being forced into his profession.

so i think when dandelion introduces this concept of good touch to him in addition to the idea that he can be loved / deserves companionship, it’s natural for geralt as he becomes more in-tune with his emotions to feel them more physically. i ask whomstever is reading to take their mind out of the gutter bc this part at least is a nonsexual context, because they can put it straight back into the gutter later, since this post does involve dandelion.geralt’s emotions are practically on the same level of chronic pain as his shattered leg later on in the series. you know when you feel despair and grief in your chest, the tingling sensation of love in your arms and shoulders, the bristling anger on the back of your neck... it’s along those lines. 

so when he’s feeling emotions very heavily, and can’t begin to craft the statement beginning with, “so, i’m not supposed to feel emotions, but...” he just acts with his body. this can actually be seen in all the times he saves dandelion, saves yennefer (debatable b/c she’s pretty badass; it’s more like he helped her), and when he just runs to ciri without even needing to say anything in something more. 

in his worst times, geralt’s a man of philosophy and surmising and indecisiveness... like in baptism of fire, regis says that the cardinal directions have no meaning to him, as long as he is going somewhere... he paces around, and also like in baptism of fire, the song about the ornery wolf... look how the wolf dances in the holt / teeth bared, tail waving, leaping like a colt (...) look how the wolf is dragging his paws / head drooping, tail hanging, clenching his jaws (...)” ... but in his best times, he’s a man of action. he acts when it’s most important.

ok time to put your head back into the gutter now! i’ll put the nsfw stuff under a cut to save all of your eyes

this part can be treated like an add-on to the post. wow, all this writing just to say geralt doesn’t suck at sex... ok. 

well in terms of geralt x dandelion i think that after their first time together, dandelion accuses him of lying about how many people he’s fucked, because ‘it can’t possibly be that small of a number’ because geralt wasn’t awkward. he was very emotional as to be expected, but also we know he doesn’t tend to show emotions on his face, so the intense rippling feeling of love & desire he feels when dandelion pushes his hair back behind his ear flew under the radar. which is good in geralt’s perspective, because he strongly feels that it would be embarassing if dandelion knew how much he’s affected by him. honestly similarly, dandelion who’s not embarassed by much is at first apprehensive to think about his and geralt’s relationship, because usually he can just leave whenever he feels like it... but with geralt, it became different, geralt was no fling, and realizing this very early on in their relationship was alarming until dandelion did what he usually does and just drops it and remains happy. 

honestly you could make the argument (not outright STATING it... i’m not being h*rny on sideblog...) but you could argue, that geralt and dandelion have bomb ass sex because both of them are canonically good in bed, weirdly enough. geralt is pretty giving and loving in his sex scenes, even when it’s not even romantic and rather a crazed passion, like with fringilla. it’s canon that he’s a proponent of oral sex b/c he defends the concept in discussion with regis and also gives it canonically, so idk what to really say here except geralt’s a real one and sapkowski had a vision i guess for his main character. 

another important thing mentioned in geralt’s sex scenes is that he’s pretty intuitive with pacing. in the last wish, he and yennefer take their time and have quite a soft and loving experience, and in lady of the lake, he and fringilla experience this more sort of intense scenario. but i think these differences are meant to speak to the differences in love and relationships between the pairings... while geralt and yennefer experience an all-consuming love of mind and body, geralt and fringilla had more of a ... bad decision. this makes us have to headcanon for what the pairing of geralt and dandelion would be like, i’m inclined to say it would be a lot like geralt and yennefer because the thing about geralt and yennefer is that they find intimacy in each other that they’ve yearned for their entire lives, and geralt and dandelion have a lot of that similar energy of finding something in another that you’ve always longed for. 

especially towards the beginning of their relationship, i feel like just their abilities to be vulnerable are what drives them. of course, having emotional sex is a fireworks-type event for geralt, while for dandelion it’s more just like, 3 PM on a tuesday afternoon, so that affects their dynamic a lot, again especially in the beginning of their relationship before geralt met yennefer and villentretenmerth, because geralt really was just not sure of himself. dandelion’s very sure of himself so he kind of doesn’t realize that it’s the beginning of an Emotional Journey for geralt and not just something casual like eating brunch together. geralt becomes more confident over time though and that’s good but he still gets just regular pangs of gay love that stops your heart momentarily, from being ... in love... 

as for actual dynamic during i think it would be funny and good to keep them both in-character and interacting as they normally do. cue humorous arguments with no vitriol or consequence: “stop moaning in musical scales, it’s ruining my concentration” “no— fa so!” 

[im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

“I was in the neighbourhood.” for Strickrot? :^)c

I set this in my animal sanctuary au bc I enjoy it too much and it’s been ages since I’ve done something in it :3

.

Angor Rot growls a warning.  The puppies he’s shielding with his body whine pitifully behind him.  He reaches back into the bush they’re all hiding in and strokes them.  He knows he’s not the most reassuring presence, but he’s all they have between them and their attackers and the animals know it.

“If you’re such a big, strong troll guy, why don’t you come out and fight us, huh?”  One of the teenagers swings a bat around casually, like he wouldn’t take a whack at the first living creature that caught his eye.

Angor doesn’t move.  He waits.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”  The bat-carrying ringleader snickers.  “You’re not really all that strong, are you?  Can’t even take all of us in a fight.”  He gestures back to his few gathered friends, who keep further back.

In reality, Angor could cut the lot of them down in under a minute, but the human authorities wouldn’t look kindly on that sort of thing.  It wouldn’t matter to them that he would be defending himself (and his charges).  Angor is a scary-looking troll and they are weak humans.  He’d loose more than just the sanctuary he’d begun to call his home if he engaged in this fight.

Angor would not let freedom slip through his grasp.  Not like this.  Not for them.

Back when Angor led his tribe, he’d dealt with such foolishness.  These fleshbag whelps would either grow out of their ways or, eventually, they’d get what’s coming to them.  Tonight, all he has to do is wait out their interest.  It won’t take long.  Youth are notorious for their short attention spans.

Something large whistles by in the night sky above.  The wind follows, blowing an unexpected current through the teenagers’ ranks.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know!”

“Should we go?  Let’s go.  I think we should go.”

“NO!  Everybody shut it!”  The ringleader yells.  He points to Angor’s hiding bush.  “He’s just doing some stupid magic trick to freak us out,” he snaps.  His head spins around to face his group.  “Are we going to let him?”

“No…” the other teenagers halfheartedly chorus.

“I said, are we going to let him?!”

“No,” came the slightly more enthusiastic response.

Angor snickers.  So, even his followers don’t like this particular leader very much.

“That’s what I thought.”  The ringleader turns back toward the bush.  “Now, as for you—”

Plop.  Splat.  Plop.  Splat.  Plop.  SPLAT!

In a carefully planned and executed circle, numerous somethings drop out of the sky and explode down around the teenagers.  They jump.  Their eyes, and Angor’s, fix themselves upon the gooey remains of whatever the somethings were.  Only Angor, with his heightened troll vision in the dark, can see the pumpkin remains for what they are.

The teenagers don’t see Angor roll his eyes, but the one flying around above them all figures that’s what he’s probably doing.

“I’m out of here, man.”  The first teenager bails.  Seeing an out, the others follow him.

The ringleader huffs.  He opens his mouth to yell—command—them back.

WHOOSH—SPLAT!

The largest pumpkin splatters in front of the ringleader.  He yelps, and then takes off running.

Once they’re gone, Angor extricates himself from the bush.  He bends down and pulls the puppies out—in total, there’s five of them—out one by one.

“You followed me?”  He growls when he hears the tell-tale sound of clicking claws against the pavement.

Strickler shrugs.  “I was in the neighborhood.”

“This neighborhood is nowhere near the places you frequently go to, Stricklander.”  Angor hands off the first of the puppies.

Strickler takes the animal, expertly wipes it down with a towel, and places it in his crate, which still smells like pumpkins.  “You don’t know everything about me, or where I go.”  He pauses.  “And, what exactly do you think I would do without you?  I have neither the knowledge or the interest to learn all the veterinary skills needed to tend to our charges.”  He grumbles.  “You really must stop going off in the middle of the night on your own like this.”

“I wouldn’t have, but a new report came in on the ‘webpage’ you’re supposed to be taking care of.”  It suits Angor better to make a jab than to admit he’d found his changeling asleep as his computer device, and determined to let him slumber while he himself investigated.

“Regardless, I parked the truck over there.”  Strickler gestures, dismissing the conversation.  “Because unlike some, I think ahead.”

Angor decides not to make a comment about how he can walk great distances without tiring.  He knows if he does Strickler will “suggest” that’s how he should get home, and then all opportunities to give his changeling even more of a hard time during the ride back would be gone.

[grapesodatozier]

happy trailer day!! here are some soft madwheeler hcs 💕 (this got long, so most of it is under the cut) (fr this is basically a fic in bullet format lol)

the party is in their junior year of high school, which means they’re learning physics

which means the boys are in heaven

but max is in hell

(el isn’t in the same classes as them bc she still has catching up to do)

will, lucas, and dustin all have physics together with mr clarke, but mike and max end up in another class with another teacher

mike and max are on good terms at this point, but they’re still not super close. still, they sit next to each other on the first day without questioning it, and then those are their seats for the rest of the year

they mostly make small talk the first couple of days, but then max comes into class with a huge smile on her face bc the funniest thing happened in art class and she has to tell someone about it

and mike is right there, and curious about what’s so funny, so max tells him the story, sounds effects and hand motions and all

she doesn’t notice, but mike is listening to her with undivided attention, his eyes soft and the ghost of a smile on his lips

they start actually talking after that

cue to their first quiz

max doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s been struggling in the class

when the teacher passes mike his quiz back face up and murmurs a “well done, mr wheeler” right before she passes max’s back face down, she can already feel the shame heating up her cheeks and settling in her stomach

she peeks at her grade and finds a 35/50 at the top of the page, right above a big red C-

she crumples up the quiz and shoves it in her bag despite the fact that the class spends the next 20 minutes going over the quiz

max can feel mike looking at her

one glance at his quiz explains why he’s paying attention to her and not the teacher: 52/50. he even got the extra credit right.

max rolls her eyes and slumps further in her seat, her arms crossed as she pointedly avoids meeting mikes eyes. she bets their wide and brown and full of pity she doesn’t want or need

they’ve fallen into the habit of chatting a bit after class and leaving together, but max leaves without a word and doesn’t bother to wait for him

unfortunately, she only has one period of reprieve before she has to see him at lunch again

she gets there before him, which turns out to not be in her favor as he sits right next to her when he arrives with el

he gets a few weird looks from the others, bc that’s where el usually sits, but el just shrugs and takes mike’s usual place next to lucas

max has had an hour to cool down, so she gives mike a smile and congratulates him on being nerd

mike gives her a small smile before getting right to the point

he leans in and says it softly so that the others won’t hear, and max is grateful for that, but now he’s so close that she can smell the laundry detergent sticking to his clothes, she can feel his shoulder bump against hers, and it makes her heart beat a mile a minute

“why didn’t you tell me that there was some stuff you didn’t get?” he asks, his voice soft and genuinely confused “I can help you if you want”

and max feels embarrassed and indignant and almost too proud to accept the offer

but mikes eyes are wide and brown, and they’re soft, and what max finds in them is closer to affection and encouragement than pity

and also he’s giving her an excuse to spend time with him, something she’s been looking for (not that she’d ever admit that - she’s barely admitted it to herself)

“okay, yeah, if I’m feeling lost I’ll ask you about it. thanks.”

they smile at each other softly and join the group conversation, but max’s heart is beating too loudly for her to hear much

a week later and max admits defeat

physics ends and max feels about ready to cry

“mike?” she calls gently across the aisle, hating how her voice breaks. and she knows mike noticed it, bc he’s giving her his soft eyes™️ that make her want to melt but also punch him, but she manages to swallow back her stubborn pride and tell him, “I didn’t get any of that”

she tries to say it with a laugh, but her voice is choked up

“yeah this unit is confusing” he agrees, and max can’t believe how kind his smile is. “do you wanna work on the homework together? we can go to my house after school if you want”

max can’t help but smile at how eager mike is to help other people

“yeah, sounds good.” then, after mike smiles and finishes packing up his bag, max adds on a “thanks”

“it’s no problem” mike assures her

max is suddenly regretting saying yes bc if mike looks at her like that the whole time she’s gonna have a problem paying attention during their tutoring session

it’s all she can think about for the rest of the day, which nearly makes her gag at herself, but she can’t help it

butterflies erupt in her stomach when she sees him after school at the bike rack

just as mike is getting on his bike at the end of the day, max rides past him on her board and shouts at him that she’ll race him to his house

the way he shouts after her warning her about the giant hill on the way has her both rolling her eyes and smiling; she’s been down that hill hundreds of times, but it’s still sweet that he’d want her to be safe

they get to mikes house at pretty much the same time, so they have a foot race to the basement door - max wins, but her victory cry dies on her lips when she turns to see mike right next to her, leaning on the house, smiling at her as he catches his breath

“you got a head start” he accuses her, but there’s a smile on his face and no real hear behind his words

“you keep telling yourself that” she grins as she pushes the door open, trying to ignore how nice mikes hair looks when it’s wind blown

they get down to business pretty much immediately, much to max’s chagrin

they start out just doing the homework side by side, the textbook open in front of them on the table, surrounded by capri sun pouches, chips, and cookies

max can’t help but notice how much farther ahead mike is than her

the she gets stuck on a problem for so long that when she throws herself back into the couch in frustration she notices mikes been waiting for her so he could turn the page and go onto more problems

“you don’t have to wait up for me if I’m slowing you down” max grumbles

mike completed ignores that offer. “which one are you stuck on?”

max shows him, and he walks her through it. his patience melts her heart, calms her down. but then the next problem is even harder, and with her anger quelled now she just gets sad that she doesn’t understand what mike is trying to explain to her

she can feel the tears stinging in her eyes, and she does her best to hold them back, but then her vision is blurring and she hears the tell tale sound of a tear hitting loose leaf

she shoves her binder away and furiously wipes her eyes, wondering if it’s more embarrassing to leave or stay

she freezes when mike puts his arm around her. he’s never done that with her before, but it feels so natural, max wants to melt into it so bad

“hey,” mike says, in the gentlest voice max has ever heard, “it’s okay, we’ll get it eventually.” max nods, but she still doesn’t look at him

he starts rubbing little soothing circles on her shoulder with his thumb, a small gesture that has max’s heart kicking into over drive

“do you wanna take a break?”

max wants to say no. mike clearly didn’t need a break, why did she need one? but she is pretty drained, so she nods again

“can you teach me how to skate?”

that surprises max into finally looking at him

“what?”

“well, I’ve been wanting to learn, and it’s gonna get too cold to learn soon, so”

“you know what? sure, I’d like to see you make a fool of yourself”

“wow, thanks”

and max was kinda joking, but mike truly is terrible

like, she knew he would be, but he’s genuinely shaking even as he’s just stepping onto the skateboard

he reaches out for her instinctively, and she’s immediately there to support him

his grip on her arms is so tight, and she can feel his hands shaking as he gives her a small, bashful smile that makes her heart melt

“you need me to walk you down the street?” she asks, only half teasing

mike rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t leave his lips as he says back, “are you actually gonna teach me or are you just gonna make fun of me?”

“can’t I do both?”

and max loves this, she loves this banter that’s blossomed between them in recent weeks, she loves that she knows it’ll make mike smile

she drags him around for a bit, first clinging to both of his arms and then gradually shifting to holding his hands, a gesture that had her blushing even harder. his hands were a little clammy, but she liked how tightly they gripped hers, she liked how they were bigger than her own. she liked the freckles on them.

eventually she insisted that he try pushing off a few times without her. he hesitantly agreed, on the condition that she stay close

max really thought he’d do better, but after pushing off for the second time he falters, loses his balance, and the board flies out from under his feet

max is at his side in an instant, kneeling over him to make sure he’s okay

he props himself up on his elbow and checks his scraped up palm and mutters a quiet “shit”

“does it hurt?” max hold his wrist gently, the contact sending electricity through her as she feels his pulse under her thumb

“I mean yeah, but I’ll probably live”

she finds that their faces are level, and closer than she’d realized

“guess you still need me to hold your hand” she jokes, her heart racing

“yeah” mike smiles, and the autumn sun is setting, bathing his skin in golden light and bringing out the red highlights in his dark hair. he takes max’s breath away as he says, “you make it look so easy” with that soft smile again

“yeah, well,” max scoffs. she tucks her hair behind her ear, looks down. “you get used to it, it’s really not that impressive”

“I think it is”

and max really wishes he’d stop looking at her like that, stop making her stomach flutter like that

he continues: “I think it’s really cool. especially now that I know how hard it is”

“I think that might just be you”

they laugh it off and go inside to clean mikes hand

“thanks,” he smiles once it’s bandaged. “and thanks for teaching me... or trying to at least”

max giggles “hey, you’re teaching my sorry ass physics, i owe you one”

mike shakes his head and smiles at her like she’s a sunrise “no you don’t, I like helping you”

max scoffs and blushes and tries to walk away, but mike catches her gently by the wrist

“you know you’re really smart, right?”

max doesn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully mike senses that and keeps going

“and I really do think it’s cool how good you are at skateboarding, and... I’m glad we’re talking more now”

max melts

“so am I”

“and I actually think you’re really funny” he grins

“oh, do you?” max beams. “you’re never gonna love that down”

and now mike is smiling big too, and he says “I think I’m okay with that”

and somehow they’ve drifted closer together, and max is so trained on mikes smile, on how soft and pink his lips look that it takes her a moment to realize how intently mike is looking at her

then their eyes meet, and it’s like that both get it. he caresses her face, and she lets him, leaning into it and placing her hands on his sides

then their lips are meeting, and they’re kissing, and max’s heart is going wild

his lips are just as soft as she imagined, and he’s so gentle with her, almost shy

they’re both smiling as they pull back

“so you know how you’re smart and cool and funny?” mike asks, his arms slipping around max’s waist, making her blush

“you may have mentioned it” she grins

“you’re also really beautiful”

max hides her face in his shoulder, blush creeping over her as she giggles “and you are ridiculously cheesy” but after a moment she meets his eye and adds with a smile “but you’re also smart and cute, and sometimes even funny”

“not cool?”

“never cool” they both giggle and kiss again, smiling into it. “you’re the cutest nerd ive ever met, though. definitely the cutest tutor I’ve ever had”

mike grins regretfully, almost apologetically: “speaking of which...”

max pouts in protest and presses light, slow kisses to mikes lips

“okay, that’s a compelling argument” mike concedes with a grin

they do get their homework done soon after tho, and once it’s done they reward themselves with pizza and more kisses

[philipronans]

of our weary city

so tumblr’s linking bullshit is still happening, i see so here go w take two. i never know how to start these things bc i’m a mess but anyway there would be a link to ao3 here but last time it didn’t work even with the attempts at working around it i’m sorry for how dumb this website is

It takes two weeks for them to reach Kirkwall. By the time his feet touch stable, albeit a little rickety, ground Garrett is ready to collapse and sleep for a year. Carver doesn’t look to be faring much better – his knees give out from under him, Garrett’s hand shooting out to steady him when they almost crash into each other. What they offer each other can’t exactly be described as a smile, but it’s the closest they’ve gotten in days.

He sees Aveline appear at the top of the gangplank over Carver’s shoulder. She moves slowly as she helps their mother gain her footing against the gentle sway of the ship, the tell-tale thud of Barkspawn following them clear even with the distance between them. “We should’ve taken our chances in Ferelden.” Carver says quietly, as a particularly strong gust of wind ploughs through the docks. It pulls at the hair and clothes of the people still milling about, making his nose wrinkle. He very quickly lifts the collar of his tunic in an effort to block out the smell. His voice is husky; it’s the first thing he’s said in the past week, and he coughs into his hand to try and clear his throat. He steps further into Garrett’s space, making sure that their shoulders are brushing.

“Would have smelt better, at any rate.” Garrett mutters back. He keeps his voice quiet in the desperate hope that Leandra won’t hear. It clearly doesn’t work, given the unimpressed look she shoots at them, and the long sigh she lets out when her feet touch the dock. Aveline gives them a half-hearted smile in sympathy. “Honestly, if all you two are going to do is complain, then I’ll find Gamlen on my own.” “I’m just saying.” Garrett attempts a smile, although it quickly fades at the unimpressed look she’s giving him. “It’s a sad day when something manages to smell worse than darkspawn. What a charming place we’ve found ourselves in.” Carver steps in between them, cutting off the venomous glare Leandra had been aiming at him, and leans in close. “Do you really think now’s the best time to test her?” “I don’t really care.” Garrett says, and he means it. He’s spent the past… Maker knows how long putting up with snide comments and dirty looks, and he’s tired of it. His shoulders are screaming for something more comfortable than the damp wood of the ship to lean on, and the crick in his neck is starting to feel permanent. “I’m going to try and find out how we can get into the city.”

Carver looks, as he so often does, like he wants to argue. He doesn’t get a chance to, though, because the sounds of a disturbance come floating through the wall behind them. His shoulders slump a little bit, and he sighs. “Go on then. We’ll be right behind you.” Garrett gives them all one last look, and then darts off. He sees what the problem is almost immediately – a group of heavily armoured guards are standing watch over a crowd of thirty or so people as a man behind them tries to speak over the noise. Their arms are crossed over their chests, and their helmets mean Garrett can’t see their faces. But the other man conveys such disgust that he finds he doesn’t need to. “They’re Fereldans.” Carver says directly into his ear. He jumps and turns his head enough to see they’ve all caught up with him. He ignores the amused grin Carver is giving him because it will only make him more smug. “I heard a couple of them talking – the attack at Highever was true.” Aveline’s shield thumps to the ground as she rolls her shoulders. She lets it dangle from her fingertips, and if it weren’t for the fact that he can see how white her knuckles are, he’d almost believe it was casual. “They’re not letting anyone into the city.” Leandra gasps. “What? That can’t be.” The look Aveline gives her is kind, and her voice is gentle. “It’s true, look at them all.” “Everyone’s fleeing the Blight, just like we are.” Carver says. “They would throw us back to the wolves, I guarantee it.” “Let them try.” Garrett says, fingers inching towards the hilts of his daggers. He looks at Leandra. “We’re getting into this city one way or another.” “We need to find Gamlen.” She cuts him off, refusing to meet his eye. Instead she glances between Carver and Aveline, playing with the belt tied around her waist. “Our family was always highly regarded here, he should be able to help.” “Let’s hope so. I don’t much fancy being stuck out here for very long.” Carver says darkly. He’s got his eyes trained on the guards, who have started pushing people around when they get too close. “But they seem so pleasant.” Garrett claps a hand on Carver’s shoulder and winks. “Maybe you should try flirting with them? Woo them with your southern charms.” “After you.” Carver makes an exaggerated sweep of his arm with a grin. “They seem to be following that man’s orders.” Aveline interrupts. She’s pointing at the same miserable looking man Garrett had already noticed. “Maybe we should try talking to him?” As they approach, one of the guards shoves a man with such force that he goes sprawling to the ground. One of his elbows smacks against the stone with a concerning crunch, and two other men spring into action. They rush to his side and pull him out of the path of potentially being trampled. Aveline lifts her shield, using it as a gentle buffer to part the crowd. “Get back to the docks, you lot.” The nasty look remains on his face, lip curling even higher than before. “Trying to force your way through won’t get you in any faster. This is as far as you’re getting, so just relax.” “What a lovely welcome party.” Garrett mutters, too quiet for the guards to hear. But Carver does, and there isn’t enough room for him to avoid the elbow that’s driven into his ribs. He huffs around a laugh, and then raises his voice. “I heard someone call this place the Gallows – it’s not a prison, is it?” The guard looks at him, eyebrows drawn into a frown. “Used to be, back in the Imperial days. Kept slaves here until the rebellion, but now the Templars use it to lock up the mages.” “If it’s not a prison then why aren’t we allowed into the city?” Carver asks. It’s a fair question, in Garrett’s humble opinion, but the sneer they get suggests the guards don’t like it very much and he feels his fingers curl into fists. “If it were up to me, I’d bar the gates and let you find somewhere else to beg.” The desire to punch him in the mouth grows even stronger. “But it’s not. Some of you might have legitimate business to attend to. So Knight-Commander Meredith’s having us sort you all out.” His smile turns nasty. “Most of you are getting back on your ships, though.” Garrett breathes through his nose several times before attempting to speak. “‘Knight-Commander’s a Templar title. What’s the city guard doing taking orders from them?” “We don’t answer to her, but she’s the power in Kirkwall.” Garrett really wants to punch him. “Not sure what would happen if the Viscount refused her, but he’s sure never taken that chance.” “But you do intend to let some of us in?” Garrett is quickly learning to appreciate Aveline’s diplomacy – it saves him solving the problem in what would definitely be considered the worst way. She steps forward in order to look the guard in the eye, shoving her shield into Garrett’s outstretched hands. Unsure of what else to do with it, he slings it over the crook of his elbow and ignores his body’s protests. “We’ve got enough poor of our own in the Free Marches.” The man says, tongue darting out to swipe at his bottom lip. He keeps his eyes on the five of them. “We don’t need you… refugees taking up space on top of that.” “It’s clear you don’t want us here.” Garrett says, standing shoulder to shoulder with Aveline. Barkspawn presses against his thigh, and he places a reassuring hand on his head. “But is there anyone else we can actually talk to about this?” The man scoffs. “But of course – what could I possibly know? I’m just the poor sod trying to stop you lot from climbing the walls.” He sighs and jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Captain Ewald’s the one you’ll want. But, be warned – he’s heard the same sob story a hundred times already.” Leandra looks like she’s ready to go charging off on her own, so Garrett puts a hand out in front of her. Carver whispers something to her that he doesn’t manage to catch, but it does stop her from looking like she’s about to start a war. “Let’s just be calm about this, and see if we can’t figure out what’s going on.” Garrett says. He slips the shield back into Aveline’s hands, nodding when she murmurs a soft thanks. On their approach, the guards part just enough for them to squeeze through. The stairs beyond are dark – the sconces in the walls lay empty and forgotten. Garrett takes the steps two at a time, and by the time he’s reached the top his thighs are burning. He has to wait for the others to catch up, which gives him time to try and ease out some of the tension in his legs. There are more refugees up here, lining the corridor they find themselves in. “The gates are shut.” Aveline points to what looks to be a lowered portcullis at the end of the pathway. “Not a good sign.” “Because everything up until this point has been a barrel of laughs.” Garrett says, lips twitching into a tired smile when he gets a small, soft laugh. His steps are slow and careful now; just because he can’t see any angry guards at the moment, doesn’t mean they’re not there. “I suppose you have a point.” Aveline says. She’s not speaking loudly by any means, but given how hushed things are around them, her voice still carries. She falls into step with him and lowers her voice. “Nothing has been recently.” “The end of the world isn’t fun for you?” He knows it’s a feeble attempt at a joke, even for him. Carver and their mother are still behind them, but he speaks softly. “I’m sorry about Wesley.” “As am I for Bethany. She seemed like a sweet girl.” She tilts her head and purses her mouth. “I must admit; I was shocked we ran into any of you at all, let alone a mage.” Garrett shrugs as carelessly as he can. “We got good at hiding – you learn early on which Templars can be bribed, and when to run if things go south.” “Were you in Lothering long?” It takes him a moment to process that she’s asking out of genuine curiosity. He’s so used to being interrogated about it he can’t always tell the difference. “Two, maybe three years? It was… alright. No one asked too many questions so long as we were willing to offer help when needed. There wasn’t much point in leaving before… well… you know.” “I’m beginning to forget what a stable home feels like.” Aveline says, smiling tightly. “I might even miss Ostagar.” “Bad idea, that.” Carver says from behind them. Leandra is clutching onto his arm tightly enough to leave marks, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “If all goes well with this Captain Ewald we won’t have to worry.” “Here’s hoping.” There’s a fork in the path, and a quick glance to the right has Garrett veering in that direction. Through the gaps in the lowered portcullis, he can see an angry looking group of people arguing with who he can only assume is Captain Ewald. He lets out a heavy sigh through his nose. “What a great first impression.” “We don’t have much of a choice.” Aveline points out. “Let’s go and find out what all the fuss is about.” They leave Leandra near the entrance of the courtyard, Barkspawn happily lolling at her feet, panting in the midday sun. It becomes apparent very quickly that these civilians are, unsurprisingly, refugees. Whilst they might be better dressed, their accents give them away almost immediately. “Let us through, you flamin’ blighter. We’re not staying in this pit.” The ‘leader’ of this ragtag group says, pointing his finger in a guard’s face. Garrett winces, hand slipping to the hilt of one of his daggers. “Then I suggest you get back on your ship and leave.” Ewald says. He looks down his nose at them and sniffs, the picture of serenity. Garrett can’t decide if he admires him or hates him. “Kirkwall has no more room for refugees.” “You know full well the boat’s already left, you bastard.” Another says. “We paid good money to get ‘ere.” “You and half of Ferelden.” His tone is dismissive, at best – and that’s Garrett being generous. “Look, there’s nothing I can do. The city is full.” “A guard said you were letting people in who have business in the city.” Garrett says as they get closer. The other group all begin to nod. “That’s right. We’ve seen you let lots of others through.” “Citizens and people with legitimate business, yes.” Ewald rolls his eyes. “I take it you don’t have more coin than these gentlemen here?” He huffs. “If we keep allowing people into the city it’ll be a lot worse for everyone else. We’ve been letting you Fereldans in for months now. You’re too late.” “Because there’s a time limit on running for your life?” Garrett demands. He doesn’t quite shrug off the hand Aveline places on his shoulder, because it’s not her he’s angry with, but it’s a close thing. “We’ve waited for months to even get here.” “That might well be, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re too late. I cannot help you. There’s no more room.” “Garrett.” Carver says warningly, nudging him out of the way. “We have family here.” He rolls his shoulders and widens his stance slightly. “You think I haven’t already heard that story a thousand times over? We’ll find ships to take you all back to Ferelden. Eventually. For now… well, you’re just going to have to put up with it.” “There must be someone else in charge – they can’t have just let it all fall onto you.” Garrett says, almost desperate. “No. There isn’t.” Ewald closes his eyes and rubs tiredly at the bridge of his nose. “The order came directly from the Viscount, and Knight-Commander Meredith. Not that it matters; as far as you’re all concerned, I’m the one in charge.” Garrett takes a deep breath and then releases it through clenched teeth. “Then is there any way we can get a message to someone in the city? My uncle knows we’re coming, he’ll confirm everything. His name’s Gamlen Amell.” “Gamlen? That name sounds familiar.” Ewald waves another guardsman over. “He’s a nobleman – our family has an estate.” Carver says, sounding very much like the words are lodged in his throat. The very notion of nobility is so farfetched it doesn’t seem like it could ever be real. Ewald scoffs and shares a cocky smirk with the other guard. “A nobleman? The only Gamlen I know is a weasel. Couldn’t rub two coppers together if he tried. But… if we hear from him, I’ll take you to him.” With that, the other guard scampers off as quickly as his heavy armour will allow. “But I don’t have time to-” “You what?” Garrett hadn’t forgotten the other Fereldans, exactly, but their sudden interruption makes his pulse spike. “You’re gonna let them through, but not us?” “Nobody said anything about that.” Ewald says, but it’s too late. They’ve latched on like a dog with a bone. The second in command swings his head around to stare at them. “We’ve been waiting here for four fucking days! They’ve only just got here!” “That’s it!” The ring leader shouts, hand shooting for the cheap looking sword he’s got strapped to his waist. “We’re carving our way through! C’mon men!” It comes as no real surprise that these men are barely trained – a quick look at the way they’re holding their swords is enough for Garrett to tell. Their hands are so far down the hilts, they’re almost holding the actual blades. Unfortunately, lack of training does not mean lack of speed, and it’s only because Aveline already has her shield up that Garrett isn’t immediately stabbed. “Pay attention.” She hisses. Feeling suitably chastised, he does. His daggers are light and short – it means he has to get in close range to use them effectively, which is fine. He’s used to it. What’s not fine is narrowly avoiding being clocked in the head by a guard as they come charging in with their sword raised above their head. He sees Carver block an incoming attack with the flat of his blade, the resounding clang echoing above the pre-existing noise. Aveline stands at his back, her body heat permeating his tunic and causing sweat to break out on the back of his neck. He ignores it, watching the way the loudmouth approaches him with an almost hungry look. Garrett’s never been a particularly patient man and waiting for the first attack is always the worst part. The swing that comes at him is sloppy – it would have gone too wide, even without Garrett’s intervention. With the quick jab he gives the other man’s wrist, though, the sword goes crashing across the paving slabs as he grasps his wrist to his chest. Garrett doesn’t let that stop him, stepping close enough to land a hit to the ribs, twisting the blade when the man grunts in pain. “I’m sorry.” He whispers as the man falls to his knees. “I’m so sorry.” He pulls the dagger out and doesn’t have much time to consider what to do next because Barkspawn barrels past. He barks loudly as he launches himself at the man attacking Carver. There’s a brief howl of pain, and then the courtyard falls eerily silent, save for the low growling of Barkspawn. “At ease, men.” Ewald says, kicking at the body of the ring leader. Garrett hadn’t even seen what happened to him, but he lies dead with several stab wounds in his chest. “Captain, are you alright?” A young man – who looks to be a recruit given the feeble attempt at facial hair on his chin – asks, jogging down the steps behind them. His face is flushed, and he’s panting slightly. “No thanks to you. Where is everyone? This needs to be taken care of.” When the recruit makes no sign of moving, Ewald grabs him by the shoulder and bodily spins him around. “Go and find them, I want this under control now.” He squeaks out a “Y-yes, Captain” before hurrying off.

Ewald turns back to Garrett and lets out a long sigh. “You have my thanks. Look, I can’t get you into the city. I wasn’t lying about that part, those are my orders. But I can make sure your uncle is found and have him brought here.” “That’s all I ask.” Garrett says. He sheathes his daggers after wiping them off as best he can.

 Despite having seen the fight, Leandra lets Garrett know that she wasn’t happy about being kept waiting. He tunes her out, leaning against the wall and staring out over the docks. Seagulls caw in the distance and he keeps glancing up to make sure they’re not flying overhead. Aveline doesn’t seem to be faring quite so well, and at some point moved off to sit with Carver. “It’s been three days.” He hears her say. Carver hums in agreement. “This waiting has to end at some point, surely.” Leandra stalks over to them, hands on her hips as she stares down at them. “It shouldn’t be much longer. I’m sure Gamlen’s still looking for us!” She doesn’t seem to notice the way all three of them roll their eyes. She’s been saying the same thing for the past two and a half days, but none of them seem willing to point it out. Aveline has clearly had enough, however, because she clambers to her feet. “And what if he’s not? What if he doesn’t come to find us?” Either the Maker, or Andraste herself, are looking down on Garrett favourably for once, because he sees a small entourage of guards and a man he does not recognise approaching them from across the courtyard. He pushes off the wall and taps Aveline on the shoulder. “I think someone’s coming.” Carver gets to his feet too, adeptly getting between their mother and Aveline. They watch as one of the Templars – the armour giving them away now that they’re close enough – point to them. The man nods, mutters something they have no chance of hearing, and then begins striding over to them by himself. “Leandra?” The man asks, brow furrowed. His clothes are dirty, his hair is clearly in dire need of a wash and a comb, and Garrett can smell the alcohol already. “Damn, the years have not been kind to you, have they?” “So much for ‘nobility’.” Carver mutters, which makes Garret snort before he can stop himself. He covers his mouth and tries to play it off as a cough. “Gamlen!” Their mother crows, brushing past Carver with her arms outstretched. She throws herself at him and doesn’t seem to notice how reluctantly he hugs her back. Gamlen pulls back first, going so far as to physically step away. He rubs a hand over his face. “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t exactly expecting any of this. The Blight; your husband – I thought you’d be in Ferelden for the rest of your life.” “We left it too late.” Leandra says, looking anywhere but at Gamlen. “My poor, poor Bethany didn’t make it. Andraste guide her.” Her eyes land on Garrett, and her brow furrows deeply. Gamlen looks to the sky, closes his eyes briefly, and takes a deep breath. “Leandra don’t do this to me here. I’m not even sure if I can get you in.” “Could you at least get Mother in?” Carver asks. “No! We stay together. I refuse to be separated now.” Leandra says firmly, shaking her head. “I was hoping to… grease some palms, so to speak. See if we couldn’t get you in that way. But the Knight-Commander’s been cracking down.” Gamlen coughs a few times to clear his throat before spitting on the ground. “We’re going to need more grease.” “What about the estate?” Leandra demands. The thing about his mother, Garrett has learnt over the years, is that the angrier she is, the quieter she gets. Her voice is barely above a whisper at this point. “Surely there was something left when Father died?” “About that…” Gamlen wrings his hands, looking to Carver and Garrett for assistance. Finding none, he visibly swallows. “I’ve been meaning to write to you, but, um… the estate’s… it’s gone. In order to settle a debt, you understand.” Leandra frowns. “But how? Never mind, I suppose that’s not important right now. This means there’s no hope of us getting in, is there?” “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.” Gamlen perks up, and it immediately sets alarm bells off. “I know some people who might be able to help – so long as you’re not too picky about the company you keep, of course.” Garrett can already see the rejection written on his mother’s face, and steps forward. “What kind of people?” “I’ve spoken to some of my contacts,” and doesn’t that fill Garrett with confidence, “who might be willing to pay your way into the city.” “There’s a catch, isn’t there?” Carver asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Gamlen looks mildly insulted. “I don’t think wanting you to work off the debt is too much to ask.” He… actually has a point there, Garrett realises. “Sounds reasonable enough, I suppose.” He says, eyeing Carver and hoping he’ll keep his mouth shut. “Would it help if I said you were my favourite uncle?” Gamlen laughs. It’s a rusty sound, as if it doesn’t get used much, and it makes Garrett smile a little bit. “Well, it would make me feel better, but that’s about it. From what I can gather, repayment would take about a year.” “A year?” Leandra cuts in. Her mouth gapes for a moment, before snapping shut. “What could you possibly be having them do?” “It’s the best I could do!” Gamlen snaps. “Trust me, no other refugees will be getting as decent an offer as this.” Garrett reaches out as if to touch Leandra’s arm, before his hand drops back down to his side. “What’s a year? If it gets us in, then surely it’s worth it? Besides, we’ll be free and clear in no time.” “That’s the spirit!” Gamlen claps his hands and then rubs them together. “I’ve managed to convince them both to meet you in the Gallows.” “You still haven’t told us what kind of work they’re after.” Aveline points out. “Meeran runs the Red Iron. I don’t know much other than that they’re a mercenary company looking for recruits. Meeran doesn’t tell anyone much of anything, contrary bastard that he is. Athenris, on the other hand, is… something of a smuggler, I suppose.” He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and then onto his trousers. “Sounds suspicious.” Garrett says with an approving nod. “They’re the only two?” “Yes. Either one should be able to help you, all you have to do is convince them you’re worth the trouble. Should be a piece of cake.” “What d’you think?” Garrett asks, glancing over at Carver. “Who do you want to talk to first?” Carver pauses for a moment, and then shrugs. “Doesn’t really matter to me, so long as they don’t try and ship us back to Ferelden.” “Alright, Uncle.” Garrett says, the word sitting strangely on his tongue. “Is there anything else I should know about this Meeran?” “He’s a mercenary, what do you expect? I wouldn’t bring him home for dinner, but he has a decent enough reputation. If I thought he’d cross you, I wouldn’t have asked him to help.” Garrett takes a second to consider this and then looks to Carver. “Let’s go and find him then, shall we?” His brother moves to his side and mutters into his ear. “You have any idea where to find him?” “Not a clue.” Garrett murmurs back as quietly as he can. “Can’t be very far, though.” “Oh, Gamlen.” Leandra sighs. “I don’t know about this.” He crosses his arms and taps his foot. “Look, don’t go expecting the family name to carry the kind of weight it used to. This is a lot of coin we’re talking about, you can’t just expect them to hand it to you for free.” “What about me?” Aveline asks. She’s been quietly watching them from a distance and Garrett has to look over his shoulder to see her. She’s tense, and frowning – never a good sign. “I won’t have people in debt on my account.” “Can’t see why it’ll be a problem – you look like a lady who can take care of herself.” “Then you’ll come with us.” Leandra says, voice firm as she offers Aveline a small smile. It’s the friendliest she’s been in days, and it almost takes Garrett by surprise. Aveline ducks her head, posture relaxing minutely. “Thank you.” “Guess that means you’re stuck with us now, Vallen.” Garrett teases, just to see her smile.

[oscopelabs]

Elvis, Truelove and the Stolen Boy: The Tragic Machismo of Nick Cassavetes’ ‘Alpha Dog’ by Amy Nicholson

[Last year, Musings paid homage to Produced and Abandoned: The Best Films You’ve Never Seen, a review anthology from the National Society of Film Critics that championed studio orphans from the ‘70s and ‘80s. In the days before the Internet, young cinephiles like myself relied on reference books and anthologies to lead us to films we might not have discovered otherwise. Released in 1990, Produced and Abandoned was a foundational piece of work, introducing me to such wonders as Cutter’s Way, Lost in America, High Tide, Choose Me, Housekeeping, and Fat City. (You can find the full list of entries here.) Our first round of Produced and Abandoned essays included Angelica Jade Bastién on By the Sea, Mike D’Angelo on The Counselor, Judy Berman on Velvet Goldmine, and Keith Phipps on O.C. and Stiggs. Today, Musings concludes our month-long round of essays about tarnished gems, in the hope they’ll get a second look. Or, more likely, a first. —Scott Tobias, editor.]

A decade before the presidency that elevated insults like “betacuck” and “soyboy” into political discourse, Nick Cassavetes made Alpha Dog, a cautionary tragedy about masculinity that audiences ignored. Time for a reappraisal. Alpha Dog is about a real murder. Over a three-day weekend in August of 2000, 15-year-old Zach Mazursky—in reality, named Nicholas Markowitz—is kidnapped and killed by the posse of 20-year-old San Fernando Valley drug dealer Johnny Truelove (Emile Hirsch) with a grudge against Zach’s older brother. No one thought the boy would die, not his main babysitter Frankie (Justin Timberlake), not the girls invited to party with “Stolen Boy,” and not even the boy himself, played with naive perfection by Anton Yelchin, who played video games and pounded beers assuming that his new captor-friends would eventually take him home.

Cassavetes’ daughter went to the same high school as Nicholas Markowitz. The murderers were neighborhood kids and he wanted to understand how fortunate sons with their whole lives ahead of them wound up in prison. The trigger man, Ryan Hoyt—“Elvis” in the film—had never even gotten a speeding ticket. Prosecutor Ron Zonen hoped the publicity around Alpha Dog would help the public spot the real-life Johnny, named Jesse James Hollywood, who was still on the lam despite being one of America’s Most Wanted. So the lawyers gave Cassavetes access to everything: crime scene photos, trial transcripts, psychological profiles, police reports, and their permission to contact the criminals and their parents. Cassavetes even took his actors to meet their counterparts, driving Justin Timberlake to a maximum security prison to get the vibe of the actual Frankie, and introducing Sharon Stone to Nicholas Markowitz’s mother, a broken woman who attempted suicide a dozen times in the years after her son's death.

Alpha Dog, pronounced Cassavetes, was “95 percent accurate.” Which was part of why it got buried, thanks to Jesse James Hollywood’s arrest just weeks after the film wrapped. Cassavetes hastily wrote a new ending to the movie, but his problems were just beginning. Hollywood’s lawyers insisted Alpha Dog would prevent their client from getting a fair trial, and used the threat of a mistrial to force Zonen off the case. “I don't know what Zonen was thinking, handing over the files,” gloated Hollywood’s defense team. “It was stupid.”

The publicity, and the delays, dragged out the pain for Markowitz’s family, especially when they heard Cassavetes had paid Hollywood’s father an, er, consulting fee. “Where is the justice in that?” asked the victim's brother. “This just goes on and on, and I’m spending my whole life in a courtroom.”

The film, too, was pushed back a year from its Sundance premiere. Despite casting a visionary young ensemble—Alpha Dog was my own introduction to Yelchin, Ben Foster, Olivia Wilde, Amanda Seyfried, Amber Heard, and the realization that Timberlake, that kid from N*SYNC, could actually act—no one noticed when it slid into theaters in January of 2007. It wasn’t just the bad press. It was that audiences couldn’t get past that Cassavetes’ last film was The Notebook. No way could the guy behind the biggest romantic weepy of a generation make something raw and cool.

But he had. Alpha Dog is a stunning movie about machismo and fate, two tag-team traits that destroy lives. Think Oedipus convincing himself he can outwit the oracle of Delphi. But Sophocles’ Oedipus telegraphs its intentions, elbowing the audience to see the end at the beginning. Greeks sitting down in 405 BC knew they were watching a tale that came full circle. Every step Oedipus takes away from his patricidal destiny just moves him closer to it.

If you map Alpha Dog’s script, instead of a loop, it looks like a horizontal line that plummets off a cliff. For most of its running time, Alpha Dog could pass for a coming-of-age flick where a sheltered kid with an over-protective mom (Sharon Stone) taps into his own self-confidence, right up until the scene where he tumbles into his own grave. Audiences who’d missed the news articles about the case weren’t clued into the climax. Cassavetes doesn’t offer any hints or flash-forwards, not even an ominous “based-on-a-true-story.” (The film might have been more successful if he had.) Instead, he lulls you into joining the kegger, watching Zach crack open beer after beer as though he expects to live forever. “There’s a movie sensibility that the film doesn’t conform to,” said Cassavetes. “You don’t watch this film. You endure it.”

As Zach, his eyes red-rimmed from bong rips, not tears, is shuttled between party dens and wealthy homes, he’s given several chances to escape. He’s even revealed to be a Tae Kwan Do blackbelt who can jokingly flip his captor-buddy Frankie (Justin Timberlake) into a bathtub. But Zach stays put—he doesn’t want to get his big brother Jake (Ben Foster) in more trouble, not realizing that Johnny is too busy making nervous phone calls to his lawyer and his aggro father Sonny (Bruce Willis) to get around to asking Jake for the $1200 in ransom money.

Zach’s death is disorienting, almost as if Psycho's Marion Crane got murdered in the second-to-last reel. In a minivan en route to his execution, he innocently tells Frankie he wants learn to play guitar. “It bugs me that I don’t know how to do anything,” he sighs. Meanwhile Johnny assures his dad that there’s no need to call off the killing. “These guys are such fuck-ups, nothing's gonna happen,” he shrugs, a rare example of cross-cutting that defuses tension in order to make the shock of the gunfire even worse. Up until the last second—even after Frankie binds him with duct tape—a sobbing Zach still can’t believe Frankie would hurt him, and honestly, Frankie can’t believe it himself. And Yelchin’s own early death makes you ache for him to get a happy ending, which Cassavetes dangles just out of reach.

This is how evil happens, says Cassavetes. Masterminds are rare. Instead, people like Frankie can be basically good, but can also be panicky and passive and selfish. Shoving Zach in Johnny’s van was an idiotic impulse by upper middle-class kids, who flipped out when they realized the snatching could get them a lifetime sentence. There’s no honor or glory in the violence. Johnny, the cowardly ringleader, talks tough, but orders his most craven friend, Elvis (Shawn Hatosy), to pull the trigger while he and his girlfriend Angela (Olivia Wilde) get drunk on margaritas. And after the murder, one side effect is that Johnny can’t get an erection. When Angela tries to get Johnny in the mood in their hideout motel, the walls close in on him, suffocating the mood.  

Away from his boys, Johnny is weak. Surrounded by them, he's the king. Alpha Dog sets up a culture of animalistic dominance. Johnny’s rental house is basically a primate cage at the zoo, only decorated with weight benches and Scarface posters. All of Johnny’s boys jockey to be his favorite and tear each other down in order to bump up their own rank. Kindness is weakness. When a fellow dealer with the ridiculous nickname Bobby 911 cruises by to negotiate a sale, he snarls at a guy who vouches for him: “You don’t need to tell him I’m good for it, man!”

Elvis, the future shooter, is the lowest member of the pack. He can’t ease into the group without Johnny ordering him to go pick up his pit-bull's poop in the backyard. Why do they pick on Elvis? He owes Johnny a bit of money, but the source of the scorn is simply group think. No one wants to be nice to the outcast, and Elvis is just too sincere to be taken seriously. When Elvis offers to get Johnny a beer, the guys tease him for being in love with Johnny. When he says sure, he does care about Johnny, they twist words into a gay panic joke. Elvis can’t win—they won’t let him—so he literally kills to prove his worth, and winds up sentenced to death row, where the real boy, just 21 at the time of the shooting, remains today. Another life wasted.

Cassavetes humanizes the killers because he wants us to understand how their micro decisions add up to murder. Not just the gunmen. Everyone’s a little to blame. The kids who got drunk with “Stolen Boy” and didn’t call the police. The girls who told Zach that being kidnapped made him sexy. Even Zach’s older step-brother Jake, an addict with a twitchy temper who escalates his war with Johnny to a fatal breaking point. Neither boy will back down over a $1200 debt, and there’s an awful split screen call when Johnny dials Jake intending to bring Zach home, but Jake is so boiling over with anger, his Bugs Bunny voice shrieking with outrage, that Johnny just hangs up the phone.

The opening credits, a montage of the cast’s own old home videos, underline that these were young and happy children—the kind of kids people point to as examples of the suburban American ideal. Over a treacly cover of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow,” we watch these real life boys being cultured to be brave: riding bikes, falling off dive-boards, running around with toy guns, going through the rituals of young manhood, from bar mitzvahs to karate lessons. Yelchin—recognizably dark-eyed and solemn even as a toddler—grins wearing plastic vampire teeth.

It takes another ten minutes for Yelchin’s character to sneak into the film sideways in a profile shot eating dinner with his parents, played by Sharon Stone and David Thornton. His Zach is barely even visible as brash Jake barges into the scene to beg for money. They say no, Jake stomps out, and Zach finally makes himself seen when he runs after his brother, begging to go anywhere less suffocating. Zach’s mom loves him so much that she watches him sleep. “I’m not fucking eight!” he yelps. He’s 15—practically a man, in his own imagination—and desperate to get away, even if it means mimicking Jake, a Jewish kid who’s so scrambled that he has a Hebrew tattoo on his clavicle and a swastika inked on his back. Jake starts to say that he wishes his own mom cared about him that much, but as soon as he gets vulnerable, he spins the moment into a joke. “Boo for me,” Jake grins, and takes another swig of beer.

“You could say it’s about drugs or guns or disaffected youth, but this whole thing is about parenting,” grunts Bruce Willis’ Sonny Truelove. “It’s about taking care of your children. You take care of yours, I take care of mine.” He’s half-right—his parenting is half to blame. Sonny and his best friend Cosmo (Harry Dean Stanton) taught Johnny to bully his friends. Cosmo, looking haggard and hollow, mocks Johnny for having one girlfriend. “You gotta plow some fucking fields,” he bellows. “Men are not supposed to be monopolous!” Not that “monopolous” is a real word, and not that Cosmo fends off women himself, except in his own big talk.

Cosmo and Sonny’s own posturing gradually emerges as being more dangerous than Johnny’s because it's more integrated into society. They’re the type of creeps who rewrite the rulebook to suit them, and attack journalists who try to tell the truth. When a fictitious documentarian asks Sonny about his son's drug connections, the father shrugs, “Did he sell a little weed? Sure.” But when the interviewer presses him further, Sonny snaps, “I’m a taxpayer and I’m a citizen and you are a jerk-off.”

Cassavetes, of course, understands growing up with a father who left a giant footprint to fill. His father, John Cassavetes, the writer-director of Shadows and Faces and A Woman Under the Influence, was one of the major pioneers of independent cinema. He died when Nick was 30, before his son attempted to take up his legacy. “We never really talked film theory,” said Cassavetes. “My experience with my dad was more along the lines of how to be a man, how to be yourself, how to free yourself from what society tells you to do, how to release yourself as an artist.”

It makes sense that Cassavetes would make his own ambitious, and maddeningly singular film. And perhaps it even makes sense to him that fate has yet to give him the reward he’s earned. Alpha Dog deserves to be acknowledged as one of the most incisive examinations of machismo and the banality of evil. But like his fumbling criminals, he knows he’s not really in charge of his life. Admitted Cassavetes, “I'm not smart enough to really have a master plan for my career.”

[lenin-it-to-win-it]

the lorax, but everytime a character appears its bnha and every time u read it u want 2 die

summary: oh you know damn well whats coming, sweetie 

notes: its 2:35 am. i spent over an hour writing this. pls clap. 

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it was a suny day in thneedville and the sun was shining but it was COLD and DARk in dekus hart as he gazed sadly off intot he distance. “mommm wy doesnt todoroki senpai-san NOTICE me???”” he lameneted to his mom.

“maybe its ur ugly little pissbaby child face” inko suggested as she cooked up a spaghety for brekfast.

“how can i impress him??” deku questioned

“try lifting, cucklord” said his grandma recovery girl as she casually bench bressed 600 pounds of rocks.

“how bout i find him  a plant insted?” deku sugested thinking about the tre todoroki painted on his house. he had asked todoorki if he liked trees and he sed ‘ya sur i gues’. “bitches lov plants”

“yeeee i kno wat u mean giv him some *lettuce*” recovery gorl winked

“wat a bout a tree” “but TREEs are DEAD” inko exlciamed! she threw the spagheti on the floor for dramtic effect and cltuched dekus head in his hands. “Son do not SPEAK of such things or The All For One’HAre Corporation Copyright TM wil BUST thru the ROOF and kill you! Now sit down and eat ur capitalism! Consumerism is god hallejeuluah amen!”

“tree” deku whisperd

the hose exploded and every1 died but they were okey. avaracious all-for-one’hare, a tiny liitle with a shiny bowlcut and tiny little man feet bitchslaped deku across the face. “NO TREES ALLOUD!!1!”  he shrieked. he bloo a kiss ot dekus mom “that plate of capitalism u have is cooking upped looks lovly mam”

inko blsuhed. “thanks”

“just make sure to keep the kiddo here away from any” all-for-one’hare, lowered his voice, which was hard bc he was already so short and low and close tothe flor. “trees”

inko gASPed! “of CORSE! i wil keep him away from the place where the trees once were by the Forbindden WAll u buildt with ur money to keep out the Bad COmmunist SentimentsTM”

recovery girl made shifty suspicious looks on her face “sure yea me too”

all-for-one’hare, was convinced. “I AM CONVINECED” he sed “by felicia!” he hopped on his hoverbord and hoverborded away.

inko cleaned the spaghety off the flor and recovery girl pulled deku by the leg into the backyard. “YO FUCKER U BETTER RUN UR ASS OVER THE COMMIE WALL AND GET A TREE SO U CAN START SLINGIN SOME MAD PUSS”

“but gramma im gay”

“then start slingin some nuts my d00d the POINT is get a TRE e” she scremed. “when i was, a yung boi, my ffather, took me over the wall, to see a bunch of trees, he sed son when, u grow up, dont kill them , the trees, and bring the nonbelievers, to come and plant new trees”

“k”

she siezed dekus sholders “GO FORTH CHILD BRING THE TREES SO WE CAN MAKE THEM GROW ANEW AS THE PROPHECY HAS FORETOLD, OUT BEYOND THE WALL LIVES A MYSTERIOUS MAN CALLED THE ONCE-FOR-ALLER, FIND HIM, HE WILL TELL YOU HIS TRAGIC TALE OF TREE AND BRING NEW LIFE TO THIS BARREN CAPITALIST HELLSCAPE, NOW GO”

“k” deku hopped on his totaly radicel scooter headed 2 the wall. a robot cat watched him forehsadowingly.

it was hella empty over the commie cuck wall with not even a bORger king in site!!!1! tree stumps covered the flor and clouds of smonk from a thousand vape pens darkened the sky. a ded bird lay deadly on the ground while its bird children cried over its bird corpse. it was sad. deku took a sad face selfie with the ded bird then did a sick ollie over the corpse and headed toward the mysterious shack in the distants.

the shack had  a bucket in front of the dor labeled “piss”. deku hopped on in the piss bucket “YO ONCE-FOR-ALLER U GOT KIK??” he cried. wind wistled past his ears and he coffed from the vape smoke but then the pis buckt got pulled up on a ROPE and deku found himself hOISted up to a wINdOW!!!! he stareed face to face at a pair of black eyes with blue spots in the middle like limpid tears and some long bony arms with glvovs and yaoi hands reached out to slap him.

“WHAT” he yelled “ARE YOU DOOING” he leaned closer “IN MY SWWAAAAAAMP!????”

deku wet his pants and criied. “i sutjj,,, i jstu  wann, t  a t;rree,,” he said sobbily. “i,m tr yiyng to get s enpai , t o noticnse me,, an ,n  and i  thgout,, i fi  got, hima   t,r,ree, he wo uld liek me”

“fucken millenials” snarled the once for aller “its always senpai this, thrussy that, my neck my back, my snapping-chat, wy wold i giv u a tre??”

“b-because i,, i brought u a SPAGHETTY” deku exxclaimed, pulling pounds of spagheetyi out of his pockets

the once for aller slorped up the spaghetti hongrily “ya ok i gues i can tel  u my storey now. its a dark and trageic tale of capitalism, like the star wors preqols” a tear ran down his bony old cheek. “but insted of jar jar binks thers only me, booboo the fool”

there was  a crossdissolve and suddenly they were in the once-for allers past where he was a big bara man with bara tiddies and twinky skinny geans no where near the size needed to accomodate for his phat dong. he rode along in a cariege puled by a single muel

“FASTER AIZAWA KUN” cried the once-for-aller hapily. “those proletariats arent gonna exploit themselves!”

aizawa the mule grunted sexily and plowed on, workin that tight little mule ass.

the once-for-aller started shredding out a sick nasty solo on an elextric guitar and it was RAD AS HELL as he blasted out the opening cords to jake pol’s magmnum opiss “its everyday bro”. “we gotta dab on those haters aizawa kun” said the once-for aller with  a very gay wink

aizawa the mule grunted in annoyance. he could not dab, for his sexy mule bodey had no arms.

they fond a metric shitload of trees and there were like wildlifes and shit running around. bears (like endeovor) froclikced int he woods with their hairy bara nippels exposed 2 the world, tsuyu and her frog pals swam in the woter, and tokoyami the borb boy  floo in the sky wich was pure and clean without a single trace of vape smoke. the tres looked fuckable so the once for aller busted a nut against one trunk then wipped out a glock and started shootin them down “YEHAW fuCKERS iTS HIGH NOON” he screamed in texan, his native language, as he mowed downt he trees the way present mics sexy voice mows down the pussey.

sudenly DANY DEVITO IN A FURSOOT APEARED. he was tiny and magestic and orange and so fucken valid. also he was grand toledo. “CUNT” he yelled kicking the once for aller in th e kneecaps. “THIS IS THE ENVIROMENT!!!!1! YOU CANT JUST START WEED WACKIN THES TREES WITH YOUR YANKEE DONGLE DANDY AND SHOOTING THEM WITH GUNS!1! THAT IS BAD AND WRONG! CAPTIN PLANET DIED FOR OUR SINS”

the once for aller looked down at the tiny orange man then down at his own big bulgin bara tiddes “i cold crush u 2 deth with my tiddys, maybe u shuld stay out of my way dude’

dany deveto gasped angrely. “how DARE!!1!” he screamed, punching the once-for-allers big toe. “BUDDY I WILL PERSONALLY FUCK YOUR GRAVE WITH MY OWN TWO ASSCHEEKS IF YOU SAY ONE MORE FUCKING WORD, I DEFY U TO TALK SHIT, COME AT ME SCRUBLORD IM RIPT”

“try me gardfielf” the once for aller laffed “iv ben drinkign plenty of nut milk so my boneses are helthy and Stronk”

daney devito pulled out his 20 inch thunderdong and beat the once for aller in the head with it until he was past oout on the ground. the woodland crreatures danced hapily around the bodey but then he woke up

“u kno wat” he moaned “mabye capitalism isnt so good, lets al liv together in communism and friendship, and i wont cut and/or fucc any of the trees”

danny deveto was mostly appeased. “ya ok, but if u try anymore fuckin shit ill go back in time and cuck ur grandparents.”

dannneie dievoto tried to hav the once-for aller killed on at least 10 separate occasions and the once for aller did slip in some clandestine tree fuckage now and agein, but other than that the communism and friendship was good. but everything changed went he fire nation atteacked, they defeeted endevor esily but then the once for allers slutty, sluty family showed up to REEK HAVICK :0 !!!1!

the once for allers ugley mom, sir nighteye, stepped out of their cheap car and did the anime glasses thing “toshi u commie thot” he said with distaste “stop being poor”

“but MOM” the once for aller wined “i HAV to be por! its good for the envorionemnt and my new animal frends and if i dont dany devito will beat me over the head with his massive meaty man-canoe!”

“dont b lil bitch, do a capitalism.”

the once for allers loud cosin hizashy jumped out of the wagon. “YAINT” he shrieked at 1000000 decibels, killing 90% of life on erth. “ARE WE GON FUCK SOME TREES OR WHAT”

the once for aller looked at his disproving mom, then at his loud cosin, then at the very fuckable trees. his eyes lingered on a sexy sap hole. “yea we are” he said, pulling out his gitar sexily. “how bad could it posbiley be??”

the answer was prety fucken bad as it turned out. a metric fuckton of people paid to watch the once for aller and his family fuck trees to deth by throwing moneey at them like they were stripers, but then al the tres were fucked ded!!11! the bears starved into ity bity twinks, unable to maintain the THicc, tsuyu and the frogs choked and coffed up water ful of human piss as they peed in the water while laughing in delite at the once for allers antics, and tokoyami and the birbs coffed out their organs from the clouds of vape smoke filing the sky.

soon ther was no one left. the once for allers familey left with al the money, aizawa the fuckable mule was ded, and it was just the once for aller allone in the rouns of his former capitalistc glory with only the bright yellow banana suit on his back to remind him of those days.

dani devioto looked at the once for aller with sad eyes before kciking his own ass so hard he got sent rocketing thru the stratusphere, leaving behind an imapct crater with a single word

“cunt” deku whispered softly in the present as he gazed into the crator.

the once for aller sighed sadley. “iv wondered for years and yeers wat he ment by that, but i think i understand now. unless some1 like u stops being a cunt, then nothign is gona get better, u nut”

“shit fam thats deeep” sed deku

the once for aller looked at dekus pissbaby child face. “i lost evrything to capitalism, my friends, nature, my family” teers rolled down his cheks “i even sold my organs to buy cocane and strippers so now i hav a total of 2 orgens in my hole bodey.”

“kinky”

“but we can change that!” cried the once for aller passionetely. “i am going 2 giv u a tree to plant in thneedvil so communism can return and bring back the life stole from this world with my big stick diplomacy. go now, young midorieya-shonen my boy, GO FORTH IN THE NAME OF COMMUNISM AND UN-CUNT THIS MISEREBLE WORLD!!1!”

ther was an epic radicel chase seen wher deku had to fite the The All For One’HAre Corporation Copyright TM and his grandma recovery girl did sik triks on her moped and deku almost but not quite got to kis todorki senpai but they made it to the town square.

deku held todorokis hands and tenderly put the baby tre in it “here” he sed “take my seed”

todoroky noded solemly. “i hav never wanted anything more than to be given ur seed midoreya” he was about 2 plant the seed in the ground when all for one’hare appered! “NOT SO FAST FUCKHOLES” he yelled capitalistically. “this TRee is COMMuNISM!!1!” he cried to the townspeople. “do u RELLY want to be FILTHY COMMIES???”

“Commies hate micdonaleds!!1” screamed one impassoned townsperson.

“LETS BOIL THEM IN OIL” some one else agred.

“but guys wait!!!” deku cried “dont u want like, nature n shit?”

“CAPITALISTS WANT TO REPLACE EVERY REMOTELY FUCKABLE PERSON WITH A TREE” all for one’hare screamed

teh twonspoeple gasps, thens tarted chanting for deku todo and grandma to get boiled in oil

deku sweated nervosly “um but,, treees,, r good?”

“OIL OIL OIL”

“BACK IN MY DAY WE FUCKED TREES AND WE LIKED IT” recovery girl rored!

that was acomeplling argument. the boil in ooil chanting slowed

all for one turned to his henchperson stain “STAIN” he yelled “TEL THESE HIPPY DIPPY COMMIE TREE FUCKERS WHAT WE REALLY THINK OF THIS CAPTEN PLANET B-ROLL BULLSHIT”

stain cleered his throt and burst into magnificent song “let it gro let it gro, so we can have trees to bone” he sang. he was The Ultimate ChadTM so every1 agreed with him imediately. they throow all for one’hare into a pit of spiders where eh was eten and killed and planted the seed in the fertile butthole of the earth wher it could blosom and gro.

in the folowing yeers trees started groiwng beyond the wals and the once for aller crawled out of his shame sahck to water them with his nut as an act of penanc.e

slowly, magesticsally, danny devito in a fursewt flew down from the sky. “ya done good cunt” he grunted, tenderly slapping the once for allers boney ass with his furry orange old man boner. “ya done good.”

they both floated up to gay heaven by their ass skins wher the once for allers big bara past self greeted them with open arms. “all of ur trubles are ogre” he whispered tenderly in their tidditlyated ears. 

the once for aller caressed his past self “oh oncey” he whispered sweetly “are u shure we should do this?? can u even,,, oh, how can u love me in this broken down form??” 

past once for aller smiled and did the kabedon thing with his future self who whimpered arousedly and blushed carnelian. “its not who we are on the outside” he shoved his entire arm up his entire ass“its who we are inside” 

danney devito cheered the once for allers on as they fucked together for all of eterneity and it was very communiest teh end