#im not even particularly good at it its just really fucking funny to drop.

[absolutelyzoned]

my best talent is ragdolling and it also happens to be the cause of 90% of the bruises on my body. but god its fun

[coeurify]

I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real

UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!

⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)

⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)

⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.

⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”

⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”

⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”

⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.

⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.

⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.

⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.

⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.

⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.

⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”

⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.

⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.

⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.

⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.

⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”

⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.

⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.

⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.

⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”

⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”

⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.

⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.

⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.” abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”

⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.

⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.

⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.

⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.

⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?

[luna0713hunter]

I saw request are open so can I request something!? So I read about this lipbam challenge so I'd like to request reader doing lipbalm challenge with Zoro where she (reader) wears blindfold and she asks Zoro to puts lipbalm on his lips and reader guesses the flavour of lipbalm by kissing him. At first reader tries really hard to guess the flavor so Zoro gets annoyed that she is paying more attention to challenge than kisses so at the end he kisses her so hard that she blanks out from how good it was. And in the end they just make out lol

Thank you!

Author's note : ask and you shall receive!! 👀 Cant say im not invested in this!!!i havent seen this challenge but I'll do my best to write it!!hope you'll enjoy!

Lipbalm challenge

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : pet names, slightly suggestive,needy!Zoro cause why not

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

"ok!you ready?"

You hear a sigh from your right side and turn your head in his direction. You narrow your eyes from behind the blindfold and playfully slap the direction you think his arm is supposed to be.

"hey!be more excited about this!"

"why the hell would i?"

"cause its cute and romantic!we never do anything romantic together,this is a great chance to spice things up."

When Zoro stays silent,you just know he's giving you his usual judgmental look. You tug at his shirt (or maybe its his pants,who knows) and give him your best pouting face.

"let's just start?please?"

You hear him sight tiredly and smile; Although he always complains,Zoro can never say no to you.

You hear the sound of the lid of the lipbalm opening,and you start swinging your feet and making the hammock to move slightly. You feel so excited,that when Zoro asks if you're ready you nod your head without missing a beat.

Then in the darkness surrounding your vision,you feel a pair of soft,soft lips on your own. But before you can lost in the sensation,you dart your tongue out and taste the lipbalm on Zoro's lips.

When you pull away (slightly out of breath and cheeks now colored pink) you grin and lick your own lips, "Strawberry!"

You feel Zoro pause,and then another lid opening.

"yeah,it was strawberry."

You grin happily and wait impatiently for the next one.

Watermelon

Peach

Lemon?

That must've been vanilla

You're so focused on guessing each taste right,that you dont even notice Zoro pause for a little bit too long and scowling at your blindfolded form. The way you keep paying more attention to the fucking lip balm,and ignoring him,has his frown deepening.

So he sets aside the stupid lip balms,and when you feel his breath on your lips and hear no sound of opening lids,you tilt your head, slightly confused.

"Zoro? what're you-"

Then his lips particularly devour yours.

You let out a surprised noise;having to wrap your arms around his neck to stop yourself from falling backwards. His hands grip your hips to pull you impossibly closer.

Zoro kisses you like he's trying to steal the breath right out of your lungs.

When it becomes too much,you start slapping his chest lightly to signal him you cant breath. He presses his lips to the base of your throat and your voice hitches.

"Z-Zoro," you stutter;not being able to form a coherent response when the kisses on your skin becomes much more heated, "what's -what's gotten into you?"

He grumbles a response against your skin and you card your fingers through his hair to get his attention.

"babe,talk to me."

"its the damn lipbalms."

Your eyebrows shoot high on your forehead as you take his face in your hands and look at him with confusion.

"what about them?"

"you were fucking paying more attention to them than me."

The answer has you blinking,once, twice,before suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter.

Zoro scowls at you and hovers above you as you drop back on the hammock.

"what's so damn funny?'

Using the hands on his cheeks,you pull him down again to press a loving kiss to his lips.

"its how adorable you are when you're jealous."

"i wasn't jealous-"

"over lipbalms no less!!"

He scowls even harder,but when you press another kiss to his forehead and then lips,his eyes softens the way it always does when he's with you,and your heart feels so full.

"how about we ditch dinner so i can make it up to you, Mr.Handsome?"

Zoro looms over you more and presses his chest to yours,and you shiver as you feel his breath right next to your ear.

"i suggest you forget about breakfast too then. Cause I feel really wounded,and I'm not planning to let you go anytime soon."

And when his lips are on yours once again,you think you should do these challenges more.

Because needy Zoro,will always be your favorite.

[butterscotch-brigade]

sooo i finally watched invader zim enter the florpus!! i was gonna wait until i finished the comics first but then i saw that apparently clembrane appears in the comics after the movie?? and i didnt want to risk getting spoiled bc yknow. the movie is when he First Appears so i thought id watch it before picking the comics back up again.

anyway, here r my thoughts on the movie down below!!

it was....pretty good!! there were a LOT of positives for me, but ultimately one major thing that i really wish could have been done better (but we'll get to that in a bit). again, i liked it, i thought it was a good movie! im gonna list all the things i especially liked followed by the things that kinda bothered me a bit so bear with me lol

positivies:

i know this is an Unpopular Opinion, but i actually rly like the art style!! i still think the show's designs r better, but i rly RLY liked how vibrant and smooth the animation was in this film. plus movies based on animated series already tend to have a slightly different art style anyway (the spongebob movies and the mlpfim movie come to mind) so i didnt mind the change. add to that the fact that this movie came out 17 years after the shows cancellation and its no wonder that jhonen vasquez's art has changed since then, plus i'd imagine there was a much bigger art/animation team this time around. anyway ofc i rly loved the part where they Enter The Florpus (lol get it) and go thru all the different art/animation styles, i loooovee stuff like that and i think every animated production should do smth like that at least once solely bc i love it so much. for me

clembrane is rly funny and i love him. im glad hes here now. dib and gaz have TWO dads

PROF. MEMBRANE WAS SO FUCKING COOL????? like omg i was NOT expecting him to be so badass in this???? when he shot the giant fucking Laser Blast out of his arms and wiped out all those robots my jaw DROPPED i was in SHOCK!!!! he was hiding all that power this whole time????? DAMN no wonder hes considered one of the most important scientists on earth

the humor was really fucking funny as always w iz LOLLLL there were multiple points that made me laugh out loud. special shoutout to the callback they made to mortos der soulstealer where zim and dib are yelling at each other and zim keeps going "WHAT????" ASKDJALSKDJ thats one of my fav jokes from the show so im glad they did that here

gir aka my fav was SOOO CUUUTEEE his stupid little peace song was so funny and adorable, i love p much everything he does in this movie as usual SDKJFLDSKJ gir my beloved

even if i have some issues w it (which we'll get to shortly), i DO like seeing that dibs family really do care for him, particularly prof. membrane. hearing him say he was proud of dib did make me smile

im not entirely sure how i feel abt the tallests canonically dying, but i do think its a funny way to kill them off and end their story. like.....ofc they die bc theyre too entitled to steer their spaceship. what else would they die from SAKFJLSDKJ

all that being said, there was one major thing that kind of bugged me a bit, as well as a few minor nitpicks.

negatives:

starting off with my biggest issue, and this might be a confusing one for some, but let me explain: in my opinion, compared to the show, this movie felt just a bit too.....sanitized? "feel-good"-ish? ....happy?? now just hear me out. a large part of what made invader zim so appealing, especially to that older tween/young teen crowd (many of whom fell into the emo subculture), is the fact that, compared to other kids cartoons at the time and even today, it was a very mean-spiritied, cynical, pessimistic show. the main protagonist is a villain trying to take over the world. his rival is the show's antagonist, so audiences may find themselves rooting against him even tho hes trying to save the world. gaz is on no one's side but her own and frequently bullies her brother and does not care what happens to zim. and it works!! thats a key factor in why so many people, myself included, like the show. it isnt afraid to have unhappy/unsatisfying endings, and there are very few "happy" moments (aside from gir, ofc, who is a fan favorite for this reason; his happiness in spite of the dark world around him is a great source of irony and genuine enjoyment). and i feel like this movie lacks a lot of that cynicism and bitterness from the show, yknow? like....i like dib and i want him to succeed, but part of his appeal is knowing that he never will, or at least not in the way he wants. we want dib's family to recognize him, we want gaz to show that she still loves him, and we want prof. membrane to say that hes proud of him. but.....invader zim is not really the type of show. i understand that this is ofc a movie for kids, but again, part of what made the show so appealing was the fact that it was so dark WHILE still being for kids. the closest thing we get to any kind of "mean-spiritedness" is the tallests deaths, which, while deserved and executed in a funny way, only happens at the end. idk i just felt like this movie was kinda....playing it "safe" compared to the show it was based on yknow. but thats just my opinion idk i swear im not one of those "WHOA look at how DARK and EDGY this show is!!! that proves that its NOT FOR KIDS" types, i just feel like the overall tone was a bit lacking compared to the source material

NOW onto the nitpicks!! these werent rly major flaws that interfered w my enjoyment of the movie, just stuff that mildly irked me (lol get it). for starters i wish tak was there :( i know she was originally planned to be in the movie but they had to cut her for time constraints which is fair. still i miss her so much. tak my beloved come back to me

another nitpick, but pretty much the only other thing that i didnt like abt this movie and its SUPER minor: i dont like how frequently gaz's eyes are open throughout this movie?? ALKSJFSDLKLKDS I KNOW THATS A WEIRD THING TO COMPLAIN ABT LMAOOOO i swear it doesnt actually bother me that much but it was kind of distracting. the reason gaz's eyes are almost always closed is to add to that angry, apathetic look she always has; it conveys her personality. when her eyes DO open, they're large and cute, which is a nice contrast to her normal appearance and makes these scenes in the show/comics have more comedic impact. here, they're open a bit too frequently for my liking, and i think it made me perceive her character differently. i think she should have been grumpier LOLLL but that kind of ties back into my first point

but errmm yeah!! despite the block of text i just wrote i still rly liked this movie!! in terms of continuations to the show, however, i think i prefer the comics, although again i have not finished reading them. i just feel like theyre closer in attitude to the original show and have a lot more interesting story ideas. but again, this movie is not bad!! there were a lot of things i rly do like abt it!! im pretty easy to please tbh.

overall id say this movie has like.....7.5/10?? maybe?? its still a good movie and id probably watch it again if given the opportunity. theres a lot of cool things about it and i did enjoy myself watching it. thats just my Onion tho, lmk what u think abt it if youve seen it :) just pls be civil if u disagree w anything i said, i like hearing other ppls perspectives on things!!

[kelp-eaters-united]

hi do you know the rage that helvetica and its evangelists evoke in me?? like fuck its not about helvetica helvetica - actual rage towards any font (yes even that one) is just a low effort meme: youre not funny. but as its cleanliness and uniformity has grown into modern design ethos like a cancer it has been chosen as the de-facto correct answer to any design problem. i thought that graphic design was the art of communication? did we not take the same classes?? yalls professors forget to tell you this????

i cant divine the exact reasons why this has happened. i have guesses and conspiracy theories but nothing useful. internally ive been calling it the "apple store problem" where good minimalism is really hard - nearly impossible to make human enough, but bad minimalism is hilariously easy. yes im a frank lloyd wright hater why do you ask. but all of these individual examples are just data points and i am stuck inside my mind with no identifiable root cause.

furthermore, and perhaps more important: - is it fair to critique an art movement on the basis of its incurious hacks? - doesnt every artist in every era feel like this? - isnt this just the feeling of having an Establishment against which we make our art? - isnt it okay that corporate art is always going to be "like that"? that all corporate art is always going to trend towards least common denominator, watered-down mass-appeal? - how careful do i have to be? when i sit here and complain that advertising of all things is more and more stale oatmeal how much am i yearning for a mythical perfect past where REAL artists made REAL art and not this degenerate* slop? - is it even worth it to try and ask that art in advertising be any good? like. its still art for advertising. yknow. the horrifying screeching mindless presence of light and sound that exists only to wring every living drop of attention, time, energy, and capitol out of humans until we are a barely living, shivering, bio-mechanical GDP booster whos only purpose is to feed the machine that hurts us. that advertising.

i think maybe theres more here than: clean lines bad and im bored

oh hi there, i see you making *word associations. yes, that is exactly what i was talking about, thansk for noticing: OG fascists and neo fascists love to cite how great art used to be before The Bad Times as a way to retroactively legitimize themselves and to propose a Good future where they win verses the Bad future where cops arent allowed to murder people. this regularly seeps like poison into conversations about mass-market art because they both sound like criticisms of the present. in discussions on the damaging relationship between art and commerce where most folks there are lamenting how the need to be advertiser friendly stunts communication and limits what art can even be made, you can regularly find little fascist shits whinging about the good ol days. when complaining about how capitalism is making it impossible to talk about sex or being black or being trans in your art make sure youre not inventing fictional pasts. there was never a The Good Times where only real artists prevailed. yes we are in a particularly censor-heavy, advertiser-friendliness-driven time on the internet BUT getting sucked into the rhetoric of how much society has devolved these days lands you in Neo Nazi Proximity Danger Zone.

where was i? oh yah: 1. charles eames can get fucked. 2. it is a good thing to demand more from the commercial art in your life 3. if youre bored of the same thing again and again try finding independent art projects that match your freak and come back to me 4. the achingly personal, earnest art you make will never be lowest common denominator marketable 5. do it anyways. make bad art that pisses people off. 6. i also hate helvetica for reasons that have nothing to do with this rant, its just not appealing to me. i like Baskerville and MCIR fonts

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[rotshop]

UGHHH this is so bad. (head in hands) LOOK. look. im sleepy tired and i just needed to warm up w/ something and also took exactly One break during this to grab a dirnk !!! shhh.

-

This was by far the worst situation you could've been in. Nevadean winters were a simple fact of how it was, but that didn't take any of the bite from the freezing winds. Some years, it would be a decent one, there would be a fair amount of hot and cold days and little snow. Not entirely pleasant, but you could work with it with in relative ease. Other years though, the season seemed to just throw it all at you, shoving everything off the shelves and toppling dominoes to see how you'd fair. It was the cruelest whenever those years came about.

This though? This had to be a fucking joke.

The others had already been on edge about the mission, as you and your partner didn't exactly have the best relationship. There'd been several attempts to switch things around so that threat would be eliminated, but ultimately they'd proven fruitless. So, with great reluctance they went along with it, though Deimos had been particularly adamant on you all meeting back up as soon as possible. He'd been especially antsy and anxious as the mission had drawn ever closer, voicing the most concerns and posing the most questions to you. He wasn't the greatest at hiding his worries when it came to those he considered close, you admired that about him.

It was almost funny with how right he'd been to worry about it. Not only had there been far ore agents and mags than expected, there was also jack shit worth taking. Obviously, this had been some sort of trap in an attempt to catch you all off guard. It'd worked, evidently, just not in the way they'd probably expected. At some point or another, it was decided you all had to get out and go. Sanford was far too injured to continue on, 2b was too stressed to think straight, and you and Hank had the luck of getting trapped on the other side of base.

You didn't exactly feel too surprised when you'd been yanked up by the back of your shirt and thrown into the back of a truck, door slamming shut seconds after. You could see a hoard of agents and mags alike nearing closer, unable to tear your gaze away from them even as your partner got in the driver's seat. There was a bit of commotion from them, barking into the comms. about needing to get out and go. You were still too distracted even when they'd begun to speed off, and far too distracted to hear Deimos' confused shouting get cut.

You could tell it was coming, somewhere in between all the pre-existing stress and dread. It was like your own version of getting a headache shortly before it storms, except all it did was tell you you'd be royally fucked for the next day or few. It was always a little too hard for you to decipher exactly how long it would be, a little too fuzzy of a reading for you to say anything accurate on the matter. All you could tell was that it was coming soon, it wouldn't stop just for your less than friendly company.

-

Three days. You'd been stuck driving out here for three days now.

Originally, the plan was to drive off until the agents would give up, turn around, and go back to base to find the others. It'd started off easy enough, the agents chasing after you seeming to lose interest in the hunt after a good while, turning and leaving. You weren't sure why at the moment, but the action had shifted something uncomfortably in your chest. It just felt too easy, too convenient.

You'd soon figured it out when the storm had started to kick in. It didn't seem too bad at first, a minor inconvenience that drew a little grumble and a lean forward in their seat from your companion. Then, it'd worsened and worsened. By this point, neither of you knew where you were. Sure, the anti-aahw had been all over Nevada- but that was just of the Nevada they knew about. It wouldn't be far fetched to suggest you'd both gotten turned around and were now god knows where.

Eventually, it was decided there was no progress that could be made here. You'd both have to either hope for a place to stay or that the car wouldn't fair too uncomfortably. Which, considering the lack of space in it and you with far too little energy to get into an argument, the first would be the blessing of the two. It wasn't too long until your quiet prayers from the back seat had been answered, the faintest of outlines among the storm showing some form of shelter. You could already feel exhaustion settling in, far too quickly for your own comfort. By the time Hank had pulled over to walk in, he'd had to reach into the backseat and tug you by the collar of your shirt with an impatient noise, a gentle encouragement laced with the threat of dragging you out.

You were sure you couldn't have pulled your legs further to your chest than you already had. Your spine was already beginning to set with soon-to-be-aches and cramps as you curled into yourself. You'd attempted to keep yourself as taut as possible, not wanting to look as pathetic as you felt in that moment, half-shaking on the cold hard floor of some abandoned complex. Hank had gone off a while ago, leaving you in the lobby to go look for a room to stay in- a room for him to stay in.

You'd lost track of time, too focused on trying to keep it all together as your mind threatened to go blank and shut down. It was the worst when it was like this, where you could only lay and hope for exhaustion to kick you into sleep at one point or another. Your limbs all felt heavy with weight, uncomfortable with just how impossible it seemed to move them. Every part of your body felt locked up, stuck and stiff how it was when you'd dropped down to the floor. You were at least glad you'd fallen to face the door, able to see the snow falling from your position.

Sure, it was the cause of your current estrangement. Yes, it meant you were stuck with the man who hated your guts with a burning passion. Despite all that, it was still pretty. It was surreal to see the sky something other than a burning red, though that oddness was fully welcomed if it meant a break from that damned color.

You'd been snapped out of your daze by a light nudge to your back, you attempted to summon up a sound of acknowledgement- coming up with nothing. The lack of a response earned another, rougher nudge, shoving against your spine uncomfortably. You'd jumped away from the contact with a little mix of a whine and hiss, head jerking back to meet the eyes of your 'assailant.' Red lenses met your gaze, looming over you from your place on the ground.

"Get off the floor and come with me," it wasn't a request. He'd always been especially bossy with you, a little colder and more detached from you. It didn't take a genius to tell he was on less than stellar terms with you.

You didn't have time to stagger up onto your feet, a hand finding its way to the collar of your shirt to yank you up once more. The world spun around you in a haze as you stumbled forward, attempting to re-balance yourself as best as you could in the short breath you were given. Apparently, it hadn't worked well, you ending up crashing into Hank in the process. He'd barely stirred at the movement, still as a statue despite your disturbance. Distantly, you'd noticed how his hands had moved to your back, keeping you upright. You'd also noticed how they weren't a bruising grip on your form-

"....walk?"

You'd blinked. You had no clue what he'd even asked, did he ask anything in the first place? I mean, you could've totally just imagined it. Maybe you were just dreaming already, it happens sometimes..

"I don't ask questions just for you to not answer. Can you walk?"

You'd opened your mouth to speak, shutting it shortly after. Your tongue was like lead in your mouth and your voice seemed to have gone for a walk. You weren't going to play the chances of you not answering again. Instead, you'd simply given a little nod. He was..surprisingly warm, in all honesty. You found yourself leaning further into him, unconsciously nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck.

He seemed satisfied by the answer, giving a little grunt of acknowledgement before pulling away. You'd caught yourself before you'd fallen, sleep snapping from you momentarily again as reality came back. By the time you found some sort of feelings in your legs again, he was already down the hall, not waiting for you by any means. You were grateful for the little burst of energy that'd found you, stumbling after him quickly.

You were reaching for his arm before you could really even process it, holding onto him once more in a moment of unconscious indulgence. You missed the little curious glance he gave you, and the way he'd pulled his arm (and subsequently you) a little closer to him. Admittedly, you leaning onto him so much did force him to slow down a bit, much to his chagrin. He didn't make any comment about it though. You didn't either, happy to just stay close as you just barely stayed awake enough to continue walking with him.

-

The mattress felt far more comfortable than the floor.

"Better than laying on tile, isn't it?" Came the sarcastic question.

Nevermind, fuck this mattress.

You'd given a little hum, stirring a bit as you got comfortable. You were still curled up as small as you could, some sort of attempt to salvage what little heat you had. The thin fleece blankets didn't offer much relief from the elements, serving more as an empty pressure laying on you. Despite that though, it seemed you were given some mercy, as you were just edging into unconsciousness.

"I'll be in the next room over so don't be loud, alright?"

You'd nodded slowly. There was a pause. There was an abnormally long pause, to be exact. After a few breaths you could hear the clinking of metal and the shuffling of cloth. Curiously, you'd poked your head up, looking at the man over your shoulder in confusion. He'd met your gaze, pausing for the briefest of moments as he tugged his jacket off.

"What're you doin?..." you'd managed, words slurring together drearily.

He'd given a short 'tsk,' continuing his previous ministrations as he answered. "What I'm doing is making sure you don't go into some little coma on me, I'm not carrying your ass around if you pass out that hard. That's on you."

You'd given a little displeased hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. He didn't react. Laying your head back down, you'd sighed in some sort of content, peaceful enough in the deteriorating room. You could feel yourself falling asleep, thought slipping from you as you finally found some sot of rest.

Just before you really fell unconscious though, you could feel the weight of a jacket being draped over you. You could've sworn you felt a hand settle on your arm for a moment, tracing a few shapes and lines idly before reluctantly pulling away. You were so sure you heard the faintest of 'Goodnight,'s before the door clicked shut. You could have just been hearing things or dreaming them up, though. You'd just have to ask him about it in the morning.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Breakfast in the Bed || Mike Wheeler x Reader

Day 3 of Fictober

Pairings: Mike Wheeler x [gn]Reader, Elmax

Fandom: Stranger Things (2016-)

Requested: Could you write a Mike x Reader fic where Mike and the rest of the party surprise the reader with breakfast in bed on their birthday and the reader accidentally confesses that she likes Mike? Or something like that, idk. Thanks!

A//n: Holy fuck, im so sorry this took a million years, but thank you loads for being so incredibly patient. It gets so hard sometimes, but know that I appreciate your guys' understanding and patience with me and I've always had every intention of getting it done cause I want to keep my promise to you guys 💞 i thought this was a cute request, and for a while I had this idea stuck in my head that made it kinda hard to write but then when I started writing, it took a different direction in a different tone but i think it helped. Its more of a funny chaotic kind of fluff rather than an typical "you like me?" cliche fluff. Either way I hope you like it and thanks again for being so patient and requesting!

Fictober Day 1: "you did this?"

[Not Really] Warnings: fluff, a Zathura reference. Elmax being adorable girlfriends

Key: f/b = favorite breakfast/fav.food

"Are you sure about this, man?"

"Shh!" Mike hisses, trying desperately to keep the tray in his hands balanced. "You'll wake Y/n!"

Lucas looks at his friend completely dumbfounded like the rest of the group, aside from El who clung to Max's arm with a perplexed expression and a party hat on her head.

"Dude," Lucas deadpans. "That's the whole point."

"You know what I mean," Mike huffs.

With some convincing from your head of house and some careful planning the night before, the party now found themselves in your doorway with your favorite breakfast. You were still out cold, head buried in your pillow and your limbs tangled messily in your sheets.

"Are you sure we even should be doing this?" Max asks in a whisper. "You know how Y/n feels about sleeping. And, ya know, I'd want to sleep in on my birthday."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Dustin eases with a smile, and a cheery tune. "It's us! And food. In bed!"

He steps out from behind Mike and enters your bedroom, and everyone watches wearily as he tiptoes to your bedside. You still hadn't moved, aside from the steady rise and fall of your body. Max's words played over in Mike's head and the more it did he couldn't help but realize she was probably right. He tried calling out to Dustin but it was too late. By the time the grinning boy had reached out to touch your shoulder it looked more as if he were poking a sleeping bear.

You groaned but never moved, and Dustin tried again.

"Dustin?" Will whispers uneasily. "Maybe, Max is right. Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

"Y/n~" Dustin sings in a low volume, and he begins shaking you more. "Y/n, wake up~! We've got a surprise for you~!"

You shift in your bed but again, show no signs of consciousness. Dustin looks over his shoulder at his friends, a bright smile overtaking his face.

"Guys, it's fine! Look," He turns back to you, shaking your shoulder again and missing the winces from your friends. "Y/n-"

Dustin stumbles back when your palm meets his face with a rough smack.

"Go away!" You exclaim, eyes screwed shut to block out all the invasive light that stung your vision.

You didn't quite know who all was there, all you did know was that people were in your bedroom and trying to wake you up.

"Why," you seethed, your voice low and gravelly from lack of use. "am I awake at,"

You roll over to look at the flickering red lights of your alarm clock, your eyelids fighting hard to stay open.

"six-thirty in the morning?"

Through your blurry vision you can make out all of the party standing in your room, looks of displacement written all over their faces. It's quiet for a moment as they struggle for words, until El breaks the silence with a party blower.

Max winces from her side, and sends a small smile to the brunette and in a small voice says to her. "Yeah, maybe not now, okay El?"

El winces, taking the party blower out of her hand and gives you a wide toothy smile. You didn't mind so much as you just wanted to give into what your body was telling you do; bury yourself under the covers and slip back into sleep.

You groan again, doing just that. You let your body fall back into the small nest you had unintentionally made for yourself but you knew the comfort was going to be short lived. And it was.

"Come on, Y/n," Lucas said, stepping into your bedroom, gesturing past Dustin who was still rubbing his nose, and over to Mike who timidly held the tray of f/b. "We made you breakfast."

They were met with silence. And no, they were not being ignored but you in fact were drifting back off.

"You can eat it in bed," Lucas added with a hopeful grin.

Your head picked up when you registered what your friend said. Your eyelids still felt they were made of magnets wanting to snap together but it was a little easier to fight it.

You were kinda hungry... And you wanted to spend today with your friends anyway.

You plastered on a sleepy smile, and turned to look at your friends through your half-lidded eyes as if you hadn't just scolded them.

"For me?" You asked in an exaggerated, sickly sweet voice that asked them to move on from it.

They all laughed nervously - again, apart from El who just seemed happy you were happy now.

"Yup," Lucas said. "We thought you deserved something special for your birthday, so we all decided to surprise you."

His voice was a bit uneasy, but your brain was still too foggy to comprehend it. So you just pulled yourself up into a sitting position against your pillows, readjusting your sleepshirt and pajama bottoms since they had shifted an uncomfortable amount throughout the night.

You smiled up at them all, feeling kinda guilty.

"Thank you guys," you said, with a genuine smile. "This is actually really nice. Here, you can come in,"

Mike seemed the most relieved out of all of them, and anxiously he stepped forward and headed for your bedside with the tray table full of food and drink. Max and El walked hand in hand to stand at the end of you bed, Max taking a seat on the end of the mattress to face you while El began playing with ends of her hair. Lucas and Dustin were further along the side of the bed to make room for Mike who carried the tray.

You bit the inside of you cheek a little, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes as you yawned.

"Sorry I hit you, Dustin," you say meekly, beginning to feel a bit silly about the whole thing.

He shrugs it off with a smile. "Eh, no worries. We'll be laughing about it later. Right, guys?"

He pat Mike's back in a playful - and forceful - manner, unintentionally throwing the balance off the tray. Not a single item stayed on the wooden tray, but was now splayed out all over your sheets and soaking through your shirt and pajama bottoms. You jumped back at the unwelcomed and highly uncomfortable sensation, gaping down at the mess you were now buried in. Slowly you look up to meet eyes with the party, particularly Dustin and Mike.

They looked as if they had crapped their pants.

Dustin's jaw hangs open for a moment, his entire body completely frozen. His right hand is wrenched up to point at Mike, who stares at the tray with glazed eyes, and his face completely crimson.

"It was all his idea!" Dustin squeaks.

Your fiery gaze meets Mike's terrified one, and his mouth parts as he begins sputtering. He was trying to summon an apology, or even an "it was an accident" but all he managed was a nervous, uncomfortable smile.

Your heart would have fluttered at his state had it not been for the meal that had just been dumped on you. You yank the sheets off of you, drops of what hadn't yet soaked completely in flew through the air and hit some of your friends and Mike backs away. He drops the tray from his hands when you climb out of bed with a look that could kill, wet chunks of food falling off of you and landing on the floor with slap.

"You did this?"

Sure, your best friend and long time crush had looped all your friends into coming over and surprising you for your birthday. But he also was the reason you not only lost a long morning of sleeping in, but were now wearing your breakfast and didn't have a warm bed to go back into when they left.

You're eyes narrowed at him. "You did this."

"I'm sorry!" He shouts, running out into the hallway.

"YOU'RE LUCKY I LIKE YOU WHEELER, OR YOU'D BE DEAD! NOW GET BACK HERE, AND CLEAN THIS UP!" You shout, running out right after him.

The remainder of the party stands awkwardly at your bedside where you left them.

Dustin laughs nervously. "That went well,"

Will gestured over his shoulder towards the hall, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Wait," he laughs. "Did Y/n finally just admit what I think Y/n just admitted?"

Max grimaced as she wiped away the remainder of food that had clung to her face, and flicked it away disgusted that she had been hit.

"Yup," Max says, popping the 'p'. "Didn't think I'd see the day, either."

[angelicmichael]

living after midnight

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke

Summary: Brooke and Montana get a bit intoxicated and get a bit carried away while going night swimming. Based off this post I made a week ago hehe

Words: 3.1k+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and also vague mentions of weed, stripping (no nudity tho LOL), lotssss of sexual tension, lots of fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, weird yearning angst for like .02 seconds lmao

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if this is random but I got random inspo for brotana so.. here this is lmao. Believe it or not I did try to make this under 1k words but.. I got carried away so I’m sorry that’s it’s long 😭. But the fic happens sometime after Brooke and Montana meet but before any camp redwood fuckery happens lmao. Anyway I hope y’all like this!! This is also probably the fastest I’ve ever written a fic so I hope it’s atleast decent haha. Anyway enjoy <3

A gentle breeze danced against Brookes exposed skin. The midnight air cold on its own regard but it seemed to blend perfectly with the extensive heat that radiated from the bonfire she sat in front of.

The night was entirely pitch black. The moon was vacant from the sky, leaving the only source of light to come from the giant fire that sat at Brookes shoes.

It was admittedly a bit unsettling being in almost the total darkness, especially with how many girls had recently gone missing in L.A as of late but the beer in her system had mostly put those thoughts to rest. Plus, being with three men and Montana was also reassuring. Even if she didn’t exactly know Xavier, Chet or Ray that well but.. she knew Montana.

It was nearly impossible to forget about how they met.. in the girls locker room in the showers and well; it’s not as if things were any less weird now. Showers or not.

It’s not as if Brooke and Montana were best friends or super close, because that definitely wasnt the case; but they weren’t acquaintances either by any means. The weird tension and ‘playfulness’ that lied between them ruled out being friends.. or that’s Brooke liked to think anyway when she had one too many things to drink. Like now.

Her legs twitched a bit restlessly; content at the ambience that surrounded her but not content with her current state of being. Like how she knew she should be enjoying herself, drunk, not caring about particularly anything at all but instead all she could do was fucking care. Her thoughts were purely infiltrated with Montana and it was embarrassing, to say the least but now that she was intoxicated there was really no harm in fighting it. No matter how annoying and taunting those thoughts truly were.

After all, Why should she not think about how nice it would be to feel Montana’s hands (which she knew had to be soft and delicate) on her waist and down her back? Why should she not think about Montana’s soft lips moving against her own, a few strands of her bleached hair (which definitely had lost it softness due to excessive over bleaching) brushing up against her face accidentally?

That was a rhetorical question; because she knew exactly why she avoided those type of thoughts on a normal day to day basis. Not because it would make things awkward between them but because it was beyond fucking painful to imagine scenarios that would never happen.. Never.

The smell of the fire and the sounds of the wood crackling, which was far too dry and poorly stacked (neither Xavier, Chet or Ray could build a proper fire to save their life), helped bring Brooke out of her thoughts and bit more into reality. So did the gentle sway of the tree branches which she could see in her peripheral vision, since they were right on the cusp of a forest that cut off to a beach. Ocean waves which slowly dragged across the sand were also soothing to listen too, albeit distant over the sound of Brookes friends screaming and laughing and being heavily intoxicated over what was more than just alcohol and weed.

Brooke reached down and swiftly grabbed the beer can which was previously lodged upright in the sand. Lifting the can up to her lips and cringing and unconsciously tensing up as she swallowed until the can was nearly weightless - wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just to see-

“Montana?!” Brooke nearly yelled. Both alcohol and temporary shock making her speak way louder than what was realistically needed.

Montana, who was previously standing several feet away with the boys was suddenly seated right next to Brooke on the log with no warning. Probably having moved over while Brooke was poorly chugging the alcohol she hated.. but she couldn’t help but to notice that their thighs (as well as basically their entire sides) were touching as she tried to wipe the alcohol that had embarrassingly dripped down her front in a frenzy.

Chet and Xavier looked back at them from a few feet away as they smoked what Brooke knew had to be a joint. Briefly laughing and giving the pair of women an amused glance before turning around and immersing themselves in whatever conversation they were previously having.

Brooke sheepishly met Montana’s gaze, feeling her cheeks grow nearly unbearably hot at the awareness that she was now being watched.. studied almost.

“Sorry,” Brooke added with a giggle.

Montana responded with a slight upturn of her lips; amused with Brookes actions not because she found it necessarily funny or pitiful, but for the sole reason that.. it was cute and endearing that Brooke couldn’t really hold her alcohol for shit.

It made her unique and different from everyone else Montana acquainted herself with. People that Montana had to basically learn to keep up with.. but Brooke on the other hand was different.. She was a breath of fresh air, and that’s why Montana assumed she was so attracted to her (besides her looks, of course).

Montana tried her best to ignore and not be bothered by the fact that Brooke was wasting perfectly good alcohol by wiping it off herself (alcohol that Montana wouldn’t necessarily mind licking off Brookes lips.. or her neck, or really anywhere else off of her). Instead focusing on how suffocated she felt here.

It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. After all; she loved Chet, Xavier and Ray dearly but.. they were also undoubtedly preventing anything from happening between her and Brooke.. and that needed to change.

Montana huffed. Her deep brown eyes quickly flickering at the flame and then Brooke before speaking.

“Im bored,” she announced. Suddenly standing up and not letting her eyes break the gaze she suddenly held with Brooke.

Brooke responded with a simple hum. Her jaw quickly dropping once she noticed that Montana’s bright red nails quickly darted down under her own shirt. Hooking the material under her fingertips before quickly raising the shirt up and over her head. Throwing it back somewhere behind the log Brooke still sat on.. somewhere where Brooke was almost certain Montana wouldn’t be able to locate later.. which was probably done on purpose.

Brookes jaw still stayed ajar when she saw Montana’s hands automatically fly down to the small jean shorts she was wearing. She could do nothing but watch as she saw the button unhook- wait.. what exactly was happening?

“Montana, what are you doing?” Brooke asked with a laugh.

Brooke tried her best to fight the urge to look at her friend who was now well.. in her bra and underwear, out of what she was trying to convince herself was respect, but it wasn’t working. She knew for a fact her cheeks had to burnt bright fucking red; she tried to laugh off the feeling but Montana still stared.. her smile slowly growing wider until sudden laughter momentarily broke the tension again.

Brooke and Montana both looked behind them just to find the boys laughing and whooping as well at Montana’s sudden lack of clothes.

Brooke smiled back at them but it only lasted a second before she found herself overtaken with a emotion she never really felt around Montana before.. was it jealousy?

Just the sight of them staring at Montana (who obviously didn’t give a fuck, or was thriving off the attention more than anything) was enough to make Brooke stand up.

“Go swimming with me?” Brooke suddenly proposed. More than certain that her sudden impulsivity was coming from the alcohol more than anything.. it had to be, right?

Brooke looked Montana in the eyes again as she watched the other woman’s expression suddenly change at her words; looking utterly shocked and.. maybe a bit thrilled.

“You want to go swimming?” Montana nearly sneered, her tone reeked off utter disbelief, “and what are you gonna wear?”

Brooke laughed at what the other woman was implying. Her dark brown eyes slipped down to admire the rest of Montana’s body that she dared not to look at previously. Only looking for a second at the matching cherry red set that Montana wore. A bra which was most definitely too tight and cut a bit small, along with a thong with sat a bit high on her hips which only accentuated her figure even further.

She didn’t have time to think; her eyes darting back up to meet Montana’s which she knew were watching her.

“I’m not going naked-“

“You don’t have too. It’s not like their gonna see us anyway once we get away from the fire. Here.”

They both spoke in hushed whispers. Weirdly paranoid that maybe the boys would overhear and wanna join which- was something they both clearly didn’t want, although unspoken.

The distance between them was minimal enough due to alcohol (and other substances in Montana’s case) running high in their systems. Making personal space something that was now nonexistent.

Montana extended her hand out to Brooke to take. She quickly grabbed her hand, hoping desperately it wasn’t sweaty from how close they were to the fire and also.. just from the situation she was bound to find herself in. But due to Montana’s reaction (or lack thereof) she knew she had nothing to worry about.. sweaty palms or not, she knew Montana wouldn’t judge her. No matter how insane the circumstance; Brooke always felt safe around Montana. That’s why she supposed she was currently following her into the pitch black - her vision getting more and more sparse as they walked away from the fire and into some nearby trees that framed the beach..

“Are you sure they can’t see me?” Brooke asked, trying her best to look through the trees and see if any of her friends happened to be looking but - she couldn’t really make out anything besides the subtle outline of her surroundings which included Montana.

“They can’t see you. Relax,” Montana said with a giggle. “Now do I need to help you undress? Your taking forever and I’m hot- and it’s not like I haven’t seen you wearing less-“

Brooke tried her best to look offended and shocked by her reference to how they met. She knew that normally with nothing in her system she would’ve easily sidestepped Montana’s ruthless flirting but.. something felt different about tonight. After all; why should she keep trying so hard to resist something they both felt? And it wasn’t like anyone could see them anyway..

Brooke quickly turned her head to where she knew Montana was and stepped closer until they were barely a foot apart. Her feet nearly stumbled on Montana’s from the proximity; biting her lip to prevent herself from stupidly giggling once she felt hot breath on her cheek.

She grabbed Montana’s hands which first held hers back limply but briefly held hers tighter before Brooke directed her hands on her shirt.

“Take it off,” Brooke uttered. Her voice barely audible but not quite loud enough to be discerned as a whisper.

Montana didn’t hesitate as she quickly took Brookes shirt off, barely feeling the soft fabric against her fingertips before she quickly threw it behind them into the forest. Montana didn’t wait for Brooke to say anything before her fingers were quickly undoing the button and the zipper of her jean shorts which were only thrown somewhere in the forest as well (hopefully near her shirt.. Brooke could only hope).

Brooke tried her best to not look bothered by her sudden lack of clothes but she also knew that was purely idiotic since they were in the pitch black.

Nevertheless she looked down at herself, trying to discern whether her figure was actually visible or not but Montana grabbed her hand again. Making her gaze snap upward as she led her out. She knew they were going out to the water now; the sand under her feet and the fire now visible from a distance as they continued to go out. The sand becoming more grainy and nearly painful to step on as they got closer to the water.

Brooke quickly looked over her shoulder before she took the first step in - still holding onto Montana’s hand. She quickly glanced to see if any of the men they had came with were watching but surely enough they were still talking and laughing as if they didn’t even notice they had gone missing.. and they probably hadn’t given how fucked up they were.

Perfect.

She continued to hold onto Montana’s hand as she went further and further into the water; not phased by the sudden coolness she felt as the water wrapped around her legs.. submerging her further and further until they both finally stopped. The water lapping around Brookes waist, and well, nearly Montana’s chest since she was a few inches shorter than Brooke.

The water seemed to be a perfect temperature despite them being at the ocean; and the rocks had since disappeared under their feet and changed back into soft sand which also made the current situation a bit more enjoyable.

Brooke tilted her head back a bit, worried momentarily that her hair might get wet but it was worth it. It was absolutely breathtaking.

The night sky which previously looked completely black and void of any light whatsoever was now painted with what looked to be a million stars.

“Do you see this?” Brooke asked.

“What, the stars?” Montana answered, her voice holding a bit of amusement to it and almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah,” Brooke affirmed with a nod. Still keeping her gaze fixated to the night sky.

“What about them?” Montana asked.

The water rippled a bit as Montana started to a take a few steps closer towards Brooke, dissatisfied at the distance between them.

“Nothing. I just- it’s beautiful. I never do things like this,” Brooke responded, tilting her head down to make eye contact with Montana as she finished her sentence.

Montana smirked.

“Never?” She asked with a laugh. “C'mon. I’m not wet enough, let’s go deeper.”

Before Brooke could protest, Montana grabbed both of her hands and pulled her deeper in the water.

��But I didn’t bring a towel!”

“Your not gonna need one. We can warm up by the fire, remember?”

They continued to keep wading until the water almost spilled over Montana’s shoulders. The water barely touching Brookes collarbones but getting some of her hair wet regardless.

She hesitantly let go of the other woman’s hand in the water, intent on using her hand to help her gain balance since a few rocks were still on the ocean ground but - the exact opposite happened.

Brooke didn’t even have time to gasp or scream before her left foot quickly slid on a random rock that just.. of course.. had to fucking be there. Her hands quickly landed on Montana’s shoulders; the rest of her body accidentally falling into the other woman’s but she only felt Montana’s hands suddenly grab gently at her back. Holding her in place against her body.

Brookes eyes instinctively closed shut but when she slowly opened them and reluctantly lifted her head higher up (silently cursing herself for accidentally getting her hair almost entirely wet now) she noticed.. how close they were to each other.

Her nose was only centimeters away from Montana's shoulder.. which meant-

“Are you okay?” Montana asked softly, speaking unintentionally right next to her ear which made a shiver run up Brookes spine.

“Mhm,” Brooke responded.

She rose her head up further - her vision fully black now due to closing her eyes so tightly and being disoriented from slipping, but she knew from hearing Montana’s voice that she had to be close. Very close.

Moving her head a bit to the left.. almost microscopically, not wanting whatever ‘this’ was to necessarily be clumsy but she knew she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Montana continued to whisper.

Brooke couldn’t help but to smile and let out a giggle that made her sound far more drunk than she actually was. She knew exactly where Montana’s lips were now due to her speaking. Thank god.

“You’ll see.”

Brooke leaned in slowly. Briefly bumping noses before catching Montana’s lips with her own. The feeling so heavenly and overdue - not enough but simultaneously far too much to take in all at once.

The taste of dull, gut wrenching beer started to flood her mouth. It was all that Montana basically tasted like.. that and a bit like smoke but Brooke didn’t mind. If anything it made the feelings of infatuation temporarily stronger. Brookes nails started to pierce the other woman’s back; wanting nothing more than to just have.. more. More of Montana; her taste, her hands, her touch.. the feeling was both pathetic but impossible to fight any longer.

The mere thought that this was something she was previously holding herself back from having was almost laughable but- that would be something to think about for another time.

Montana’s lips softly broke from hers.

“Eager.. aren’t you?” She teased.

Brookes eyes still refused to adjust but she knew Montana had to be grinning.

“Sorry.. I just-“

“Don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Montana said lowly.

Montana suddenly leaned in with no warning. Her hands softly grabbed Brookes shoulders; leaning in to pull her bottom lip with her teeth.

After she let go, the feeling to kiss her again was strong but.. she thought of something better. The thrill of the chase was something Brooke always enjoyed, after all.

Brooke took a few steps back suddenly before quickly heading for the shore. Not really going that fast at all due to the resistance of the water pushing up against her legs but she laughed regardless.

She could hear Montana laughing and calling her a jerk in the distance but it was all just noise at this point. Her voice, the water rushing, the fire and their friends (which grew gradually louder as she approached) all started to sound the same.

Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

Even though Brooke definitely felt tipsy, she still felt nervous the closer she got from being fully submerged out of the water. Maybe it was due to the fact she wasn’t certain what was going to happen at the fire, or if their friends had even heard anything but she knew atleast now she would have Montana. Exactly how she had Montana was something to be determined later, but as she finally stepped out and away from the nearly black ocean waves and ran up to the fire to go wait for Montana - she was comforted by the thought that things would now never be the same and forever would be different between the two of them.

Which had to be a good thing; right?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @waitinvain @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist hehe

[maldito-arbol]

Let’s talk about the GP zodiacs (Part 2)

HOLSY HSIT I LOVE THE GP KIDS SO MUCH AND THEIR SIGNS ARE SO INTERESTING

Thank u to puff-poff for shooting me with an ask about the gp kids, I think our brains just assimilated

One more note: I should’ve mentioned this in my last post but compatibility between signs doesn’t only apply to romantic relationships, it applies to any kind of relationship like friendships, family relations, etc. It’s just that when it comes to more platonic relationships, wholly incompatible signs are more likely to be able to work something out together. As an example, I’m a Gemini, and I’m about 300% certain I could never ever in my life date a Pisces, but I do have a few Pisces friends that I get along well enough with.

Okay same drill—sign, element, infodump, GO

Violet

Birthdate: June 12th

Sign: Gemini

Element: Air

Overview: SQUEALS GUYS ITS VIOLET MY BELOVED. WE’RE BOTH GEMINIS THEREFORE WE ARE THE SAME PERSON. I’m kidding but no, Violet being a Gemini makes her 100x easier to project onto. So I mentioned before that Air signs are the least in tune with their emotions, are the thinkers before they act, are horribly indecisive, and these very much apply to Geminis as well. However, the most iconic trait of a Gemini is the ability to switch personalities at the drop of a hat whenever it services the group of people they’re in—what most people call the ‘two-faced’ part of Geminis. Hey, I promise you that being two-faced is actually a pretty cool and useful asset when in the hands of a decent human being. It means we get along well with a lot of different people, and if we don’t, we can act like we do as if it’s nothing. This asset, however, can turn into a curse of sorts in that a lot of us have...NO IDEA what our actual personality is. We reshape and remold ourselves and copy traits from other signs to fit in so much that we lose sight of who we are as an individual, and therefore we have a very hard time figuring out what we truly want. This is where the indecisiveness comes into play—ask a Gemini what they want for lunch and you’ll get a “what? Huh? Oh, you pick. I’m fine with whatever.” I know Geminis best because I am one, pls forgive me for rambling so much more about them than the other signssss.

Okay so first of all, let’s talk about Violet adapting to other characters to ‘fit in’. It’s not as obvious because Violet DOES seem to have one very fixed personality, but Violet prefers to speak through actions rather than words, so I would call her following Emma to help the children at GP a Gemini move. She could’ve simply dragged her to Lucas—she’s probably strong enough to do so, but instead she decided to go along with her. This isn’t to say there’s no pushback of course, as Air signs Geminis aren’t idiots, so they’ll often try to reason with others (particularly fire signs cough cough) to try to bring logic and critical thinking into the conversation. However, when that fails, they can still be counted on to support their friends even if they disagree. This is why Geminis and Leos are soulmates you heard it here, the stars said Violemma is the way. BUT ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW VIOLET’S THE ONE ADAM LISTENS TO DURING THE LEUVIS BATTLE. YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT BEING ABLE TO GET ALONG WITH A LOT OF PEOPLE, THERE YOU GO.

Anyway it’s also very much worth noting that while Violet can seem very harsh at times (bc Geminis will put you in your PLACE), bringing her logical kind of advice into conversations can be a very helpful comforter.

On another note this scene is so gay?

Compatibility and ships: hellooooooo Air sign Violet you are compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Libra, and Gemini) as well as Fire signs (Leo, Sagittarius, and Aries). Usually you’ll see Aquarius and Sagittarius as the most compatible with Geminis but I disagree with that because I have never met a Sagittarius I like so I’m still pointing fervently at Leos and the fact that Emma is a Leo. Listen. Violemma is the way. I am determined to convert all of you to Violemma if it’s the last thing I do. Geminis simply cannot help themselves around Leos they fall like a fucking anvil for that bright, golden-hearted dumbass energy. If there’s any Leos in the tpn fandom let me know I might just propose to you.

Oliver

Birthdate: October 25th

Sign: Scorpio

Element: Water

Overview: the first time I looked up Oliver’s birthday I went “Scorpio???? REALLY????” but then this is another case where the more I think about it, it does indeed make sense. If Leos are the natural leaders of the Fire signs, then Scorpios are the natural leaders of the Water signs. Where Cancers and Pisces will often lose themselves to their emotions, Scorpios have a very strong handle on them. I mentioned before that Water signs are at the highest emotional level, but Scorpios are a bit of an interesting case because you oftentimes won’t even notice that they’re very emotional people. They try to act like Air signs in that way, but their true colors are always there, waiting to be coaxed out.

For Oliver, you can clearly tell that his emotional bond with his friends and especially with Lucas is very high—but even so, he doesn’t let his emotions cloud his judgment or his ability to adapt to the situation at hand. Where earth signs are very fixed and difficult to move, water signs are always moving and changing to find solutions best suited for new circumstances. The best example I can give is the part where the music plays early, and despite internally panicking about it, Oliver is the one who naturally steps up to calm everyone down.

Scorpios are great at handling others’ emotions as well as their own, which makes them marvelously empathetic leaders. We stan.

Compatibility and ships: as a Water sign, Oliver is compatible with other Water signs (Cancer, Pisces, and Scorpio) as well as Earth signs (Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn) so speaking broadly that makes him compatible with Pepe (a Pisces) and Zack (a Cancer) but narrowing it down, Scorpios are usually best with Tauruses and Cancers. Idk if I’m the only one who ships Oliver with Pepe but I know there’s a few people who ship him with Zack—so congrats to you guys, you won the stars’ approval.

Lucas

Birthdate: November 28th

Sign: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

Overview: yall,,,, when I found out Lucas was a Saggy Titty I legitimately guffawed out loud. Lucas and Sagittarius is so funny.... because it’s so wrong. Saggy Titties are the definition of chaos, they’re brazen, impulsive, and constantly changing. Like think of a frat boy in a house full of beer and pool tables and hot girls and you get Sagittarius. This is why I have never met a Sagittarius I like—because they have frat boy energy, and even non-male Sagittariuses require wayyy too much energy for me to handle. I guess the only time Lucas really does act like a Sagittarius is in his childhood with Yuugo, and the way he’s a lot bolder and outgoing versus the quieter older Lucas we have now.

It is important to note that Lucas has been through a lot of trauma and lost a lot of comrades which could very well change the a person’s entire outlook and turn their personality 180 degrees—that could be a large factor, although on the flip side, Yuugo still fits his Capricorn sign even after going through what he’s been through. Different events affect different people differently. Lucas was most likely knocked entirely off his Sagittarius high-horse very quickly when he arrived in Goldy Pond. But if I had no prior knowledge of who he was beforehand, I very well might’ve pegged him a Leo like Emma or even another subtle Aries like Norman. So yes, he does indeed have fire energy, it’s just generally very lackluster and farrrr away from Sagittarius’ level.

Compatibility and ships: okay so I know the only Lucas ship with any weight to it in this fandom is Yuucas, and here’s the thing,,, A Sagittarius and Capricorn combo is the most horrifying fucking couple imaginable and I’m stan so hard. Realistically speaking, your Capricorns would try to put a leash on their Sagittariuses because man. I forgot to mention how childish Sagittariuses can be (though the frat boy comparison should’ve been a clue), and holy shit that poor Capricorn is gonna get ripped to shreds by their Sagittarius. Imagine like a super pompous cowboy trying to ride a furious bull that’s trying to buck him off like there’s no tomorrow. Capricorns are people who want complete control over themselves and their partners, while Sagittariuses,, Saggy Titties just want to see the world burn. Put them together and you could probably cause the End Times Apocalypse. But you know what? Good for them. I think Yuugo and Lucas love each other enough that the toxicity that comes with typical pairups with these two signs is about nonexistent between them. But I fully believe they could still destroy an entire planet and that’s valid of them to do so. Anyway moving on!

you wanna talk about another Sagittarius that makes absolutely no sense?

Paula

Birthdate: December 9th

Sign: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

Overview: My authors I am begging you, stop putting character birthdays in the Sagittarius zone you clearly don’t know what a Sagittarius is.

Since I refuse to acknowledge Paula as a Sagittarius, let’s talk about what sign she actually acts like because I said so. Paula’s a Virgo. Fight me Shirai. (Also im sus that shirai is virgophobic because where the fuck are my virgos. There’s like zero major characters that are virgos, and the characters that ARE don’t even act like virgos. I’m coming for your small intestine Shirai) so as earth signs, virgos are generally pretty resourceful and of course level-headed. They’re kinda shy and reserved, but they’re also very hard workers you can count on when you need to get a job done. Nary will you find a Virgo that procrastinates or attempts to weasel their way out of a mission they’ve been given. The unmovable earth in virgos shows through in how committed they are, and we can see all these traits in Paula. Though she’s a quieter member of the GP resistance, you can tell just how much of an asset she is to them. She doesn’t run, doesn’t lose her cool, and she’s good at pointing out important details.

Pls let me decide your characters’ birthdays for you Shirai I promise I am good at it.

Compatibility and ships: I guess, astrologically speaking, as a Sagittarius, Paula does fit pretty well with Sonya because she’s a Gemini. I actually know next to nothing about Paula ships but I do know she’s lesbian and her and Sonya are cute but I also ship her with Barbara because reasons don’t ask questions I WILL bite you anyway they’re compatible too because barb’s also a Gemini.

Lot of Geminis, don’t you think? Yes I do. Let’s talk about them.

Sonya and Sandy

Birthdates: June 3rd and May 22nd respectively

Signs: Gemini

Element: Air

Overview: these two are what I call the gemini twins bECAUSE THEYRE ALWAYS HANGING OUT AND ITS SO TRUE GEMINIS LOVE EACH OTHER BUT ALSO ITS SO WEIRD THAT WE GET ALONG. imagine like two of those one way mirrors facing each other where it just goes on and on and on for infinite mirror and that’s what two Geminis hanging out is like. Look, they’re literally thinking the same thing and it’s so great

Anyway there isn’t a whole lot of Sandy and Sonya content to go off of in the first place, but them being Geminis seems reasonable to me—at the very least they are indeed meant to get along well and they’re so in sync I could cry. Plus they’re pretty intuitive and able to think right on the spot as they’re facing Nous and Nouma (at least at first) My man Shirai also.. really likes Geminis for some reason because they keep popping up. So instead of one Spider-Man meme it looks more like this,

Compatibility and ships: not gonna dwell too long on this section because from previous ones you may already recall they’re compatible with each other and I guess with Paula as well as I must begrudgingly accept the fact that shes canonically a Sagittarius.

Pepe

Birthdate: February 19th

Sign: Pisces

Element: Water

Overview: so I mentioned before that water signs are at about the highest emotion level, which makes Pisces a very sensitive group like Cancers. But Pisces in general are known for being the kindest and most accepting people as well, which means they’re able to make a lot of friends very easily. They’re basically that one person you sat next to in class who started a conversation with you just to be nice. Now again, there’s not a whole lot of Pepe content to go off of, but we can tell he’s kind and loving to his friends and the other kids in GP. One thing I can mention is that Pisces usually are the one of the nosiest of the signs, and they get very bothered by lies and secrets (this is true for a lot of water signs, but Pisces are the worst in my experience) so we got this single piece that may have a little bit of the Pisces in Pepe showing:

Compatibility and ships: So as a Pisces, Pepe is only compatible with Oliver and Zack considering they’re also water signs. Everyone else is Fire and Air, funnily enough, but the Pepe ships with those two are super cute I think so it’s ok.

Zack

Birthdate: July 7th

Sign: Cancer

Element: Water

Overview: so do I think Zack fits his sign? Yes, in a way I do. I already went into Cancers when I explained Don, so quick recap: Cancers are some of the most sensitive and empathetic, so their loyalty to their loved ones is pretty close to on-par with an Aries. And while Zack isn’t as outwardly emotional as someone like Don, the Cancer in him shows up well in that he’s constantly taking extremely difficult missions he doesn’t want his friends to risk, and he shrugs off any injury to himself.

This might just be a me thing but almost every Cancer I’ve met has a habit of doing That. I am so concerned for their safety. I guess though, if I hadn’t known his sign beforehand, I 100% would’ve pegged him an Aries.

Compatibility and ships: I already went over this with Pepe, but Zack is compatible with Pepe and Oliver. Y’all ok listen to me. OT3. Make it happen. Between them they have every sign in the element of water. They’d be unstoppable.

Gillian

Birthdate: September 30th

Sign: Libra

Element: Air

Overview: here’s a fun one. So as I previously stated, air signs are usually out of tune with their emotions, but where that causes Aquariuses and Geminis to repress or hide them, Libras,,,, just dump them everywhere. Listen I know Libras are supposed to be the sign of the balance scales and they have a thing about the world being perfectly balanced which makes them more prone to revenge bUT ALSO. MY first and foremost takeaway from Libras is that they all suffer from Rich Bitch syndrome, in which they obsess over material items and every Libra has a thing about cute girly stuff change my mind. HOWEVER, they’re often very chaotic as well, the kinda Sagittarius of the Air signs. So like a super cute and seemingly fun girl who will probably murder you in your sleep.



I’m sorry I can’t take it I’ve been laughing at this for the past fifteen minutes it’s too funny. Anyway, Gillian’s Rich Bitch Syndrome appears through her fashion statement. Her PINS. omg. Gillian your Libra is showing.

Compatibility and ships: as a Libra Gillian is compatible with other Air signs (Aquarius, Gemini, Libra) as well as Fire signs (Aries, Sagittarius, Leo) but she’s most compatible with Aries and Sagittarius so—— Paula yes, but also Nigel because he’s an Aries! Speaking of Nigel,

Nigel

Birthdate: March 27th

Sign: Aries

Element: Fire

Overview: Aries Nigel doesn’t come as a surprise, let’s be real here. I delved into Aries before with Norman, so just as a recap: Aries are so intensely loyal to the ones they love and would do absolutely anything for them even at the cost of their lives, and this can make them prone to outbursts of anger and/or impulsivity. Here’s your one image of Aries Nigel, I don’t even have to explain:

Compatibility and ships: so I already said this but Nigel is at his most compatible with Gillian. Are there other Nigel ships?? Pls let me know I’m very curious.

Aw, it’s over now :(

I loved talking about the GP kids they fill the void in my heart. Now to move onto talking about the demons because the silliest idiot requested it and I am beyond ecstatic to spout pure headcanon bullshit. If you’re feelin excited then feel free to keep sending characters my way I will be happy to ramble about their canon zodiac or my headcanon for their zodiac

Edit: i forgot to link part 1 to anyone who wants it and doesn’t want to stalk my profile to find it

[deniigi]

bro, work made me depressed that I literally left my seat to regain any resemblance of joy or something equivalent before breaking down again. Do you think you can provide a ficlet I involving Peter and Sam to cheer me up?

FUCK CAPITALISM

TAKE THIS

Title: Calibrating

Summary: Sam and Peter talk themselves towards a meaningful discussion.

---------

Peter did this thing—this infuriating thing where he texted shit like ‘come over’ and then Sam had to bend over backwards to be flirty and coy.

It was imperative that he came across as flirty and coy.

Im-fucking-perative, regardless of what Leilani said or Matt’s annoyance at what he called the ‘jungle of depravity’ that overtook the group chat pretty much daily.

Sam didn’t care.

If Peter texted the group or sent any message that might be construed upside-down as something romantic or sexual, Sam not only had to catch it, but he had to volley it back.

This, he told Leilani, sealed their No-Homo contract.

She stared at him.

He decided to demonstrate.

“See, here, look, I’ll show you,” he said, dragging out his phone. “Exhibit A. There he is, see? Asking about the strength of PVC pipe in pounds per meter like a fuckin’ tease. Now I can’t just let him think that I saw that and didn’t think of it as a metaphor, alright? So I say—”

“Sam, why does he need to know the strength of PVC pipe?” Leilani interrupted.

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point of this discussion.

“I’m sending a winky-face,” Sam informed her as he did that very thing.

Leilani stared harder than before.

But look, skepticism was unrewarded. Peter texted a kiss right back and said ‘oh boo, you always know just want to say.’

How could she not see the No-Homo? Sam could do this all day. He could and there would be absolutely no problems and he wouldn’t want to suffocate himself in his pillow at the end of it all.

It was fine.

“Samuel,” Leilani said, “I’m going to tell you something and I want you to hear it with an open heart. Will you open your heart for me?”

Sam spun around in his chair and arranged his arms and legs so that they were as open as they could feasibly be without being obscene.

“I am more open than a boiled clam,” he informed her.

Leilani blinked slowly, then shook her head and checked over her shoulders. She waved him in closer. Then closer. And then close enough that he could smell her perfume on her neck.

“You’re the tease,” she said.

Then she left the backroom. And Sam could only stare after her, frozen in horror as his wide-open heart wrinkled in on itself, picking up mass and gravity until it was naught but a black hole.

“I’m the tease?” he whispered to himself in shock.

Oh no.

OH NO.

 --

  “SENSEI.”

Matt dropped his collection of folders and swore, clutching at his chest.

“We have discussed volume, Sam,” he said, bending down to collect his paper children.

Sam took the opportunity to throw both arms around his neck from behind as a threat.

“Don’t lie,” he warned. “Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, amen.”

Matt stood up and Sam felt his toes leave the floor. He hadn’t planned this far ahead.

“Or what?” Matt asked, 110% unfazed.

Sam wished that his feet weren’t kicking around in air here. It really put a dent in his intimidation factor.

“Am I a tease?” he asked.

Matt faced front with heavy eyebrows. Sam couldn’t see his face from this angle, but he knew that aura of irritation.

“If you have to ask the question, then you already know the answer,” Matt said. “Does that help?”

“No, I hate you now, actually,” Sam told him.

Matt dropped him right on his ass.

 --

 There had to be a way to attain proof. To determine once and for all that it was Sam who was in the wrong here, misinterpreting things like the genius that he was.

Thankfully, Sam’s experience of growing up as a non-only child for the last two decades had prepared him exactly for this type of conversation.

 SC: HANNAH AM I A TEASE???

HC: yes

HC: next question

SC: FUCK.

SC: WHAT IF ITS NOT NO-HOMO?

HC: my dear brother, the only options if something is not no-homo is for it to be no-no or homo-homo.

SC: Murder me

HC: gladly

SC: I’m in possible homo-homo with spiderman

HC: are you sure it’s not no-no?

SC: MURDER ME

HC: okay but like if it’s no-no then this is not a problem, right?

SC: If it’s no-no then I’ve read every sign wrong and I deserve to become a partially eaten tadpole awash in an indifferent boiling sea

HC: okay so we’re leaning INTO the drama today I gotcha. Alright but like, just for the sake of arguing, what if it was homo-homo?

SC: then I need you to bury my body somewhere no one will ever find it because my heart can’t stand requited love you know this about me.

HC: give me your login

SC: thank you I love you you’re the only person who matters

 --

 BT: Spiderman.

SM: Blindspot. DMing? You okay?

BT: this is Hannah.

SM: OH

SM: hi Hannah are you okay? Did you need something?

BT: My brother never got tested for reading comprehension but would have failed anyways. Can you arbitrate an arbitrary argument for us?

SM: I’m positive that there is a link between those two ideas that I am missing, but sure?

BT: okay are you ready?

SM: my loins have been girded.

BT: gross. you two are made for each other. Okay: what are your opinions on 24yo Chinese dudes with bad vision who are 5’7” tall, with terrible hair and brains as big and gaseous as Jupiter?

SM: positive

BT: you’re so romantic spidey.

SM: I know

BT: I’m going to tell him now

SM: WAIT DON’T TELL HIM

BT: byeeeeeee

 --

 Sam was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t look at his phone. He was just going to lay here until he wasted away into a fossil.

Mm, yes, what a wonderful way to escape any and all feelings. That was—

His phone chirped and he nearly fell out of his chair in a hurry to answer it.

 HC: [image] [image]

HC: you owe me your bones

SC: AFASDFADFAS:FJaf’asdfjahsdlfihasdl’fas

SC: TAKE THEM

HC: if you fuck spiderman you have to get pregnant and demand alimony for your beautiful mixed babies Samuel

SC: Darling sister, we’ve talked about this. it isn’t going to happen I still have yet to steal a womb

HC: try harder

HC: ttyl

--

 Okay, this was fine.

Everything was fine.

Spidey liked Sam back, it was no big deal. Spidey liked everyone back. Even the teases.

Even.

The.

Teases.

Fuck, Sam had to move.

 --

 Foggy caught him biting his nails to pieces over the copy machine and asked him if he was okay. He was not. Foggy could read this off him. He didn’t ask again, but he did say that if Sam was feeling particularly anxious about something he was welcome to go have his breakdown upstairs in Kirsten’s kitchen instead of downstairs among the files.

Sam appreciated his offer. He hiked up the stairs, and halfway up, his phone chirped.

His heart stopped.

It chirped again, and then again. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, it was chirping every couple of seconds with messages being typed and sent at mach speed.

He kicked off his shoes and went to go stand over Kirsten’s sink to open the first one.

  PP: Sam it’s peter hey listen your sister messaged me

PP: and was asking some pretty invasive questions and I replied to her. I don’t know if you saw them but I just wanted to say that if that makes you uncomfortable in any way know that I absolutely don’t mind and I’ll stop

PP: you can tell me to fuck off if that crossed your boundaries. I shouldn’t have even messaged her back without asking you

PP: and obviously in future I won’t talk to her until I’ve cleared it with you I just wasn’t thinking I’m never thinking it’s a little hard to think sometimes

PP: especially when you message me back and I get caught up in the games and the emojis and stuff and like I’m sure that sometimes I overstep but I don’t mean to and you can tell me at any point if you want me to stop

PP: I guess I just really like to talk to you sometimes and it’s fun to have someone to banter with who actually banters back like not in a mean way but in a really nice and funny way. you’re an easy guy to talk to is what I’m saying

PP: which I’m sure you get a lot. I don’t mean that I want to like tell you all my problems I swear it’s not that it’s just more of a AHHHHH I don’t even know what I’m saying I think it’s sorry???

PP: I’m sorry??? I don’t mean to imply anything that isn’t there and I don’t want to make you feel like you have to either. Ar e you mad? Please don’t be mad okay wait no I’ve sent like seven fucking messages I’m being a creep oh my god IM SORRY ILL SHUT UP NOW OKAY SORRY BYE

  Oh nooooo.

The panic-induced infodump was not only familiar but horrendously endearing.

Sam had to explode now.

Man. Bummer.

  SC: it’s okay Peter

PP: OH THANK GOD

PP: is it tho??? Are you sure?

SC: I have positive feelings towards people like you too

  Sam’s heart pounded. He almost locked his phone and threw it in the sink, but another text came in just as that thought finished crossing his mind.

  PP: you do?

SC: yes of course I do

PP: oh nice

SC: yeah

  Annnnnnnd cue mutual nerd awkwardness. Great. Well done, Sam, you’ve done it again.

He sighed and turned away from the sink and sunk down onto the floor with his back against it.

Such a loser, Chung. So painfully awkward. Would it kill you to, just for once, slow down and chill for a minute?

God.

  PP: hey sam?

  No, Sam just wanted to sit on this floor and wallow.

  PP: hello? Are you still there?

 --

Sam let his head fall back against the sink. He closed his eyes.

His phone rang in his hand and he nearly had a heart attack. His fingers scrabbled over its face and the caller ID read ‘Peter Parker.’

Oh god.

Oh no.

Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.

“Hello?” he answered to the scratchy phone silence on the other side of the line.

He frowned.

“Hello?” he tried again, a smidge less desperate.

“Hi.”

There he was.

“Hey,” Sam said. “Sorry, just got awkward.”

Peter laughed through the line.

“Me too,” he said. “That was awkward.”

Yeah.

“Yeah.”

A long pause.

“I’m doing it again,” Sam moaned into his hand.

“No, no. Hey, you’re good,” Peter said. “I was just uh. Calling because.” He trailed off.

Sam waited.

“Sam? You still there?”

He startled and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Sorry, zoning out a little bit. You know, busy day.”

“Yeah,” Peter said.  “Yeah, I know.”

Sam breathed as quietly as he could. He could almost hear Peter doing the same on his end.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta g—” Sam started.

“Hey, do you like me?”

HNG.

“No?” Sam answered and then punched himself in the leg. “Sorry. Uh. I didn’t—I mean, uh. Yes. Of course I like you. You’re a really good person. I admire you a lot.”

Hannah, oh Hannah, where is thine shovel? Sam needed it to dig this grave deeper, please.

“Oh. Okay, I just—I guess I uh, have a hard time reading the tone of your texts sometimes,” Peter said.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot,” Sam said. “I’ll try harder to be more direct.”

“No,” Peter said. “No, no, you don’t have to change anything.”

“Oh? Okay, well. Maybe I still will, though,” Sam said.

If Peter wouldn’t have heard him, he would have started to try to fit his whole fist in his mouth.

Five minutes of conversation and they were still saying nothing.

“Sam?”

He swallowed.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Next time you’re in the city, would you, uh, maybe want to go out somewhere? With me?”

Out? What like, to a movie or something?

“Yeah, just like that,” Peter said. “’Cause I uh. Would like to. Do that, I mean. With you.”

“With me?” Sam asked. “Oh right, and your other friends, uh, names—sorry, I’m bad with names. N-ned?”

“No,” Peter said oddly abruptly. “Well, I mean—I don’t mean it like that. I just—just with you. For now. That’s what I mean.”

“Oh. Uh. Kinda like a date?” Sam asked through the forcefield of self-hatred that felt like it spanned the entire continental US.

There was a pause. Sam held his breath.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Exactly like a date. If you don’t mind—you know, doing that with me.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA.

“Are you trying to lure me to a secondary location, Mr. Parker?” Sam asked seriously.

The laugh that met him made all the muscles in his shoulders relax.

“Maybe if the bit at the first location goes well,” Peter said. Then added hurriedly, “If you’re down for that.”

Sam was down for it right now.

Actually, maybe not in Kirsten’s kitchen. But like, right now in a different location.

“If it’s a movie date, we can do it through Netflix Party,” he pointed out faux-lightly. “It wouldn’t be the same, but we could do it this weekend, even. Saturday—I’m off Saturday.”

Peter said nothing for a long time.

“Okay. Saturday,” he finally agreed, “I can do Saturday. Kinda hard to hold your hand through a screen, but I can give it my best shot?”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffff.

“Oh, I bet you will,” Sam nearly choked.

“You’re really cute, Sam.”

NO. SHUT UP. YOU ARE.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to kiss you last time you were here, but I was too, uh. Shy. Embarrassed. One of them.”

Sam was going to puke, but in like, the happiest kind of way.

“I like you a lot too, Peter,” he whispered.

“Are you crying?”

“What? No.”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.”

“Shut up, I’m not. I—the old man’s downstairs, his ears aren’t as good through ceilings, but I just want to make sure—”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said. “I’m sure that’s what it is. So I’ll see you Saturday? Maybe Facetime or something?”

“Yeah, Saturday,” Sam said. “I’ll send you a time when I know. I’ve gotta go. Meltdown-alloted-breaktime is over.”

Peter laughed.

“Alright, man, I’ll talk to you later. Bye now.”

“Bye,” Sam said lamely.

He hung up the phone. He did not scream. But he did fist pump and then fall onto his side.

 ---------

Here’s to hoping things get easier for you anon!!

[teamjacobthot]

some ppl can get very... let's be nice and say 'interpretive', when it comes to the cullens. but I can't understand why they are so excited about midnight sun. The cullens will not act like they do in these peoples lame repetitive textposts. Racism and mormon ideals shaped the the entire saga and the cullens will be the same unlikeble characters smeyer wrote in the other books and people will be disappointed. I think it's very telling how some can say fuck smeyer yet give her their money..

you’ve made some points. however, ppl have the right to be excited abt their faves (unless you stan the confederate which is 😐) no matter how boring and unlikable they are to others. i dont think cullen stans will be disappointed by midnight sun if what they’re looking for is new content. this whole book is literally just team edward/cullen fan service. now if theyre looking for GOOD content.........well this book IS written by smeyer so................ 

i think the fandom (or at least the people i interact with) understands that this book isnt gonna be particularly well written, groundbreaking, or even like.......good. ofc, the twihard communities on facebook and instagram are gonna love it, but that’s why we don’t claim them lmfao. i think midnight sun will just be more content to make fun of. i personally loveeeeeee making fun of twilight bc it’s just so easy to and some of yall are funny as hell, so i’ll take my meme folder and totally legally obtained copy of the book and have a blast with the absurdity, as well as rightfully drag the inevitable racist parts and call out the cullens bc i was gonna do that anyway. thankfully i have the capacity to do both and my contributions wont put any coin in smeyer’s purse whatsoever.

now when it comes to ppl saying “fuck smeyer” yet giving her money anyway........ i have some thoughts....

ofc i can only speak for myself, and obviously, all of this is my opinion. ppl can spend their money however they want, but im definitely gonna side-eye the “i bought the book BUT i still hate smeyer/donated to the tribe/reblogged anti-racist resources/etc” crowd. like do you really hate smeyer then? do you REALLY? maybe im just built different. or maybe racism holds more weight to me bc i’ve actually experienced it as a Black person and it doesnt exist as some new internet concept for me. idk. either way, there is just no “BUT” to me when it comes to racists, especially if you have the choice NOT to financially support the very racist you drag on the internet. 

talking shit on this blue hellsite is free. rereading the twilight books you got back in 2009 before you knew better puts zero dollars and zero cents into smeyer’s pockets. buying a brand new copy of midnight sun literally does put some dollars and some cents into her pockets though, even if you donate to the Quileute nation too. as twilight fans, i feel that we should all donate to the Quileute nation anyway, whenever possible. but even if you pay for a brand new copy of midnight sun AND donate to the tribe, you’re still giving the racist author your money. you just are. no amount of money donated to the tribe can negate smeyer gaining money from you buying her book. it is what it is. you can spend your money how you want but like...... *jane voice* keep that in mind. obviously its better to buy the book and donate rather than buy the book and NOT donate, but maybe ask yourself why having a new, amazon supplied copy of ~*twilight again but in edward’s perspective*~ is worth the cognitive dissonance when paired with the abundance of “fuck smeyer” posts on your blog.

oh and also! it’s so easy to get the book in ways that dont give her any/as much money! there are local libraries. there are secondhand bookstores. i know damn well it’s gonna end up in value village in a couple months right next to all the other twilight books. there are p*r*t*d copies BOUND to end up on the internet within a week of the book dropping. i probably couldnt get away w this this bc im Black, but fuckin steal the book from target or walmart or something!!! use that white privilege if you got it!!!!

if youre like me and wanna read midnight sun but dont wanna give a racist your money, there are ways to get it. but pls spare me if youre gonna cry “fuck smeyer” on here and still buy the book lmao.

[smellysluna]

The one where Luka is a clown | Fictober19 #1

Prompt number: 「 one 」“It will be fun, trust me.”

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Pairing: Luka Couffaine & [YOU]

Rating: T (Teens And Up)

Warnings/Tags: none

Summary: you’ve always had a crush on him bcs he simply was your type but nothing really happened unitl You & Luka get set up as project mates

Side note: I know that it’s the twelth of october but i just started it, i’ll write some more for fictober but i’ll use the prompts as i see fit bcs i’m just like that so yeah. anyways i hope this makes some kind of sense, its been a long time since i finished something i began writing. okay so i also wanted to write luka because there’s not many fics with him with an “x reader” tag. okay talk over, enjoy the story babes!!!!

"Hey."

I turned around in my seat and smiled. "Hi, Luka."

"So... how'd you wanna do this?"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Do what?" Luka shared an amused smile. "Oh!" I face-palm. "The project! Right." I picked up the notebook with my notes from my desk and slammed it on his desk. Then I rotated it in his direction. "This is how we're going to do it."

"Wow, you've really thought this through already."

I rest my face on my hand and smirk. "It's no coincidence that I ace my presentations."

"I guess I'm lucky then."

"More than you think." I straighten my back. "Okay, no funny business tho. You fuck up and I'll make you suffer all the way to June. Take a picture of them notes so you have a copy and have a slight idea of what's going on."

He puts up a half-amused smile, "this ain't my first rodeo."

"But it's your first bullfight, so keep up." He laughed and I bit my lip. I might've gone overboard. 

"I'll do my best," he assured in a soft voice. Holy shit. He's so mellow. As soon as I was sure he had a picture of my notes, I took his phone. I entered into his contacts and added my number then dialed myself. 

I show him the screen of my phone. "Now we have each other's numbers." He smiled before I turned around just in time for the teacher to get in. 

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I was watching dessert recipes on YouTube when I received a message from Luka. The popup appeared from an Unknown number which reminded me that I forgot to add him to my contacts.

"hey"

     "hi"

    "what's up?"

"i went through ur notes"

    "yeah?"

    "they're amazing, aren't they"

"u made those in class"

"how???"

"they're too good"

You sent an image:

Unknown sent an image:

"anyhow"

"i wanted to know when you want to get the project finished"

"i thought that you'd want to finish it asap"

"u look like you have a busy schedule"

    "i'm free whenever, really"

    "but i don't want to finish it in one go"

    "so we'll spend a couple of days on it"

    "if u dont mind that is"

    "btw you give me too much credit"

"right"

"it's fine, yeah"

"more time to clown around"

Unknown sent an image:

    "> AUDIO (laughter)"

    "IM DYING"

    "WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY"

"i took clown courses in my childhood"

    "where's the diploma huh?"

"wait, lemme look"

"wait"

    "ur serious???"

"photo(clown certificate)"

    "I CAN'T BREATHE"

"clown code: never joke about being a clown"

    "AND HERE I WAS"

    "THINKING YOU WERE THE COOLEST GUY AT SCHOOL"

    "BUT ALL THIS TIME YOU WERE JUST A CLOWN"

    "I WAS SO FOOLISH"

    "ur now officially added to my contacts as clown boy 🤡"

"coolest guy huh? ;)"

    "don't let it get to your head, clown boy"

    "as much as i'd love to know about your clown career, i have to go make dinner"

    "we'll talk more about it at school"

    "don't vanish on me"

    "i'll snap my fingers into Thanos' ass if i have to"

"right 😂"

At dinner, I couldn't stop thinking about Luka. We might've never talked much to each other but I always had the hots for him. He was just my type: tall, supposedly long hair for a boy, dyed hair, punk-like feel and especially (these just get me going) those black gauges in his ears. Anyways, I'd lie if I said I never got distracted in class because of the smell of his cologne.

"Thank you for dinner, [Y/N]," said my mom after she cleaned the table.

"Don't forget to do the dishes, love."

"Yes, Dad," I chuckled.

"We're off to bed, then. Goodnight, [Y/N]."

"Goodnight, mum. Goodnight, dad."

That night, I fell asleep thinking about how nice that chat conversation with Luka was.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

I groaned loudly when I got into class. I ran because I was late for geography. When I got to class, the lack of a teacher at the desk made me want to kill myself. My classmates were scattered around the classroom in groups, as usual when a teacher was absent. Done with life, I walk to my desk, drop my backpack and accommodate my face on the desk. Suddenly, somebody is standing next to me. But I really just wanted some sleep so my first intention was to ignore whomever until well, it's self-explanatory.

"Looks like someone spent all night thinking about me."

"What!?" I see Luka. Now fully energized and heart pumping, I stutter: "No, no. What are you even saying?"

He laughs and takes a seat on the vacant spot in front of me. He rests his arms on my desk. "I'm just messing with you, wanted to see the reaction I'd get out of you. I wasn't expecting to fully wake you up." He smiles broadly and I stare into his eyes.

Have you ever met that person, no matter who they are, their eyes are so enthralling that you just can't help but keep staring at them? These kinds of eyes just have something... Something I'm unable to describe. And when I stare at them, they're so glossy and shiny.

"I think you'd look amazing if you wore eyeliner."

"Huh?" Half of his face moves upwards in sync. "That's very random."

"I mean, yeah." I look away, fidget with my bracelet and then look back. "I just thought it'd bring your eyes out even more."

"Ooh," he exhales knowingly. "Because they're blue, right?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "No," I say offended. Had this boy never realized how nice his eyes are?

"Why then?" He asks and nods his head onto his arms.

"Well," I lick my lips, "I don't know." I shrug "It's not because of the color, which is beautiful just so you know." I caress my arm and try very hard to maintain eye contact, occasionally looking away. "Your eyes, I don't know, they just have something."

He smiles at my words, "look who's talking."

"Not a clown, that's for sure." He groans in a boyish way and it melts my insides so warm I almost let it show.

"You won't let it go, won’t you?" He lays defeated on my desk, arms sprawled.

"You did that to yourself." He hummed in a way that seemed a mixture of displeasure and annoyance. His long hair was sprawled in every direction of my desk. I could tell that he washed his hair either last night or this morning —it smelled so nice. Luka smelled really nice and I couldn't help but bite my lip to restrain myself from sniffing him all over like I was some kind of dog-bred. I started playing with his hair and it was so much softer than I expected it to be, it was dyed after all. He let a pleasurable groan slip through.

"Does this bother you?"

Luka abruptly opened his eyes and forced my head to rest on the desk as well. With very soft caresses he ran his hand through my locks and I understood what it was that he intended.

"What about you?"

I stared into his eyes for a moment and closed them, then resumed playing with his hair as he did the same. We were so close, I could hear his silent breathes. I wondered if this could be considered as cuddling. Honestly? I didn't care because I was enjoying it.

"Hey, guys, look at [Y/N] and Luka."

"Woah, when did that happen."

"Never thought [Y/N] liked that type of guy."

"You're kidding, right? Luka's definitely her type."

We spent the rest of the hour like that. Somewhere in between, the rest of the class noticed us but, frankly, we paid them no mind. But it made me anxious. Not because of what they said but about what Luka might've thought about it.

"I kind of like this," he whimpers softly as if scared he'd break whatever we had going on.

I agree with him softly, just as scared to ruin the mood.

When the bell rang, we hesitantly broke apart. Luka returned to his assigned seat behind me and then class started. The moments the teacher repeated subjects the class already went through, Luka played with the ends of my hair.

After the school bell rang for the last time that day, Luka approached me. He asked if I wanted to start on the project today. Luka was so cute while he asked. He didn't do anything particularly cute but the way he looked when he leaned on the wall had sent me flying. Obviously, I said that it was a good idea. Not desperately, of course, even though I wanted to grab him and steal him away. I kept my cool.

"What time?"

He grimaced to hide a grin. "I was hoping, like, right now?"

"Uh, well... On any other particular month, I'd agree and take you to my house. But we're getting reformations done so it's a very big mess."

"We can go to my place." He states like it's a universal fact.

"But all my shit's at home, and I'd want to empty my backpack, grab some money, etcetera."

"Okay, I get it. I can take you home and we'll head right over to mine?"

Even though I might pass out any moment out of pure embarrassment, I cross my arms in an 'X' in front of his face.

"No way that's happening, clown boy."

"What? Why?" He frowns.

"No way in hell I'm letting you drive me on your motorbike."

A small laugh escapes his lips. "You've never been on a motorcycle?"

I act displeased.

Luka laughs with a hand on his stomach. "You haven't!" I scowl and his laughter subdues. He waves his hands in front of him and apologizes for laughing. "I'll be careful, just for you." He assures.

"Even if I agreed... I doubt you'd have a second helmet. And we all know that police officer which has an obsession for the law."

"I got us covered on that one, I have two."

I stare at him. "You had this all planned out, didn't you?"

"No," he grins, "it just happens to be that I usually pick my sister up from her school."

"Oh, so she's gonna have to walk all the way back to your house. We can't let her do that, can we?" No matter how much I crush on Luka, anything that can get me out of sitting on that devil's contraption, I'd go with.

"I said 'usually', didn't I?" I can feel his smirk soaking right through me but in a much more softer tone he said "it'll be fun," and smiles "trust me."

It was his goddamn smile that convinced me to agree.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"I never knew you could live in a boat."

I looked around the main deck and, for some reason, I felt very lightweight and free.

"You don't like it?"

"The contrary, I love it!" I smile at him, "it adds to your charm."

Luka smiles back, "thanks."

Both of us walked inside the boat. I took everything all at once. You rarely get the chance to be inside a boat-home. But the most surprising thing was that it was stable —at least more than I thought.

"My room's the one at the end. Get yourself comfy —I'll be right there."

I bite the inside of my cheek. "Okay."

Once I get into his room, I relax and take a look around. I leave my backpack by the door and head straight for the most valuable thing to me in his room. Luka had one of the nicest guitar stands available on which laid the most basic electric guitar ever... but since looks can deceive, I pick it up.

I make myself comfortable on his bed along with Luka's guitar and a guitar pick I snatched from the wall. Without thinking twice, I started to play. It didn't matter to me that I hadn't plugged the guitar into an amplifier, this particular tab didn't need the magic of electricity. I suppose I should have asked first if I could play but it's too late now-

"That's 'Lonely Day', right?"

"Ah! Shit! Sorry!" I stood up hastily, the guitar pick went flying to the floor and I placed the guitar back where it was supposed to be. I turn to him to apologize, "I should've asked-."

Luka walks past me, grabs the guitar by its fretboard and puts the strap around himself. He shuffles around me and I was too confused to realize what he was doing. Then he hands me the guitar fully-tuned-connected-to-an-amplifier guitar. He lifts it by the fretboard again and hands it over to me as if telling me to take it. I stare into his eyes and do exactly that.

At that moment, we didn't need any words as I accepted his silent offer. I strum dumbly and then start fidgeting with the knobs on his amplifier. I bite my lip, it doesn't have as many options as mine and it's smaller than the one I have at home but I managed to get the right sound.

I started playing a song that I had played countless times and felt very confident. This moment was about impressing Luka and I was determined to blow him away. But the moment I started playing, I couldn't keep up the cool-girl act and grinned as I played around the room.

"Wow," he said amazed after I finished. "I never knew you played guitar, let alone that well."

"I'm amazing, I know," I wink.

"What did you play?"

"You don't recognize it!?" I gasp loudly. I put my hands over my heart. "Oh, my heart! It hurts! I have never been so hurt before!"

He holds back an embarrassed smile. "Guilty as charged."

"It's Crowd Chant, by Satriani," an exaggerated sad smile adorns my lips.

"Oh, right! The guy from 'Surfing with the Alien'!"

"Yes, that one! I love him, he's my idol!"

"He's good."

"Good? He's a GOD." I pout at him. "Your idol is Jagged Stone, that's why you have so little appreciation for him."

"Right."

I playfully punch him. "Just kidding."

"I thought I was supposed to be the clown around here."

I laugh very loud at that. "Yes! I will - haha - leave - ha - the rest to you."

During the week we were making the project we had gotten really close and we kept hanging out at each other's houses even when the project was long ago finished. I met his very cool mum, and his sister, who is physically exactly like him but both of them don't seem to admit it. And he met my small family too.

"I keep telling you! You do look alike! Genetics is no joke."

"I agree with [Y/N]!" Juleka's friend said one day over dinner. I can't remember what her name was but I always thought there was more than 'friends' between her and Juleka.

"We do not look alike; you both must be very blind," Luka jokes and I pinch him very hard. "Ow! Stop!" He pinches back.

"No! Luka! That was payback for yesterday!" He stuck his tongue out at me and I growl. "You're very mean."

He shrugs, "whatever you say, [Y/N]."

"Oh, 'whatever I say' it is, is it?" I crossed my arms and pondered without breaking my staring contest with Luka. "So if I said you're ugly, you'd agree?"

He smirked, "sure." I felt how triumph tasted and literally a second later I tasted defeat. "But it won't affect the fact that my eyes have 'something'."

I became a blushing mess and everyone at the table stared at us.

"So..." Juleka started, unsure. "Does that mean that [Y/N] confessed first?"

Juleka's blonde friend nodded, "I knew it!"

"I'm happy for the both of you," Mrs. Couffaine cheered with a very sweet smile.

There was a problem with their cheers which made Luka and me quite uncomfortable. It was wrong. Nothing had happened between us.

"It's...! It's not like that!" I attempt to defend ourselves and turn to Luka. "That's not what that was, right, Luka?"

He was looking in the opposite direction, scratching his crimson red neck. "I mean..."

I hide my face in my hands. "Oh my God, I want to kill myself."

"You know what? We will leave you both to work out whatever misunderstanding there might be, okay?" And with no answer, all three of them left.

"Let's go outside." With no warning, Luka took me by the hand and guided me to the main deck. It was chilly outside and I shivered but kept it to myself. "Here." Luka handed me his jacket.

"Thanks," I smile and put it on. It still smells like his cologne.

"About what Juleka said..." He avoided my gaze by looking into the river. "I might've told her that I like you," he turns to me and takes my hands, "a lot." Luka squeezes my hands out of nervousness. "The way you and I understand each other, without any words, just the music is enough. I feel like we're connected through it like we are the power-chords to any rock song."

My heart was melting, I always knew deep down that Luka's a very sweet romantic and he was killing me with his cuteness. I never knew you could look cute and hot during a confession. "Luka, I-"

"Remember when we sang 'Anything better than you'?"

"Yeah."

I recalled the memory. At the end of the song, when the part that goes "I can sing anything sweeter than you" our lips were so close... I couldn't stop thinking about it before I fell asleep every night.

"I wanted to kiss you so badly, but I just couldn't do it." Luka pulled me in and we were as close as that other time, my heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. "Until now."

Luka kissed me and I kissed back. We kissed each other so desperately and I ran my hand through his hair. Fuck, how I loved the softness of his hair. We break apart for a kiss and stare at each other's eyes, dumbfounded. We kiss again except this time it wasn't as desperate. It was softer, a kiss only Luka could make amazing. Luka had thin lips but made up for it with the way he kissed. I wanted to kiss him more, I wanted more from Luka so I kissed him harsher. Then he broke apart the kiss, clearly taken aback from it.

My heart stopped, "I... I'm sorry-!" He cut me off by kissing me harsher than I did and I loved every second of his harshness. I began feeling his neck, his back, his chest and pushed myself closer to him as every second that passed it became hotter.

We broke the make-out apart. Our flushed faces appreciated the cool night breeze. We keep wrapped around each other. "I think we should get back inside."

I listened to his pounding heart through his chest. "Not yet, clown boy."

"Whatever you say, love."

[cullxtheherd]

Long(-ish) time listener, first-time caller here - just wanted to say that I really love your take on Jacob, and that your taste in music is A+! Also, I come offering a few songs that I think have big Jacob vibes - "Unsainted" by Slipknot, "The Heresy" by Mushroomhead, and "Feed the Machine" by Nickelback (just trust me).

hglkghjl oh my god hi!!! how are you?? first of all thank you what the heck skjhdndkf you are absolutely too nice sjdhsdjskdf but i am glad you enjoy my stupid shit™

and i am gonna dive into these songs rn.

yes but i would like to counter with this slipknot tune [x] and also this one cause i kinda forgot about them and now im scREam? [x] GLLHKGLLHBKGLHKGLKL

holy shit yeah i love mushroomhead but it's been yEARS since i properly listened to them- like?? since you had to buy the dvd to see the music videos cauce mf TV would not play them skjdskjsk i did not even know they had new content out?? tbh ksjfkdfjdkj?? but alsoo [x] and [x] anddd its taking me aGES to answer this cause im on a trip through songs of my younger years and like THANK you!!!! i am having so much fun skjfdkdjf

oh. my god okay. it's. it is. it. has taken everything in me to type nickelback into my youtube search bar. i'm really over here like:

hgkhlgkhlghll okay but i AM listening here i go pray for me...

okay. here's the thing. if chad fucking kroeger wasn't singing this i would really like this- the guitar solo is a little extra, but i've also listened to dragonforce and completed that shit on guitar hero0 jAYSUS CHRiST- anyways! i?????????????????? am going to have a lil quick jacob inspired music romp, join me if you like!

5 bands/artists, 5 songs below the cut!! but, FIRST!!

a warning: these first three groups will be triggering and offensive in many/multiple ways! please be prepared!!

𝙺𝙾Я𝙽:

Never Never: [x] - this is particularly nice™ if you follow my he was married timeline;

Shoots And Ladders: [x] - this pertains to childhood sexual abuse i haven't even had the stomach to write about yet for the Seed boys and it's not part of my timeline currently, but. it is definitely part of my headcanons and there is not enough brain bleach for me to ever live the same ever again 🙃

All In The Family [x] - i do not think this needs any explanation but i ammmm hahahahhahahahhksjud imagining john and jake hghg;glghlhglhgljhgl

It's On! [x] - i really forgot how much i miss early 00s/late 90s rock aaand wow so much of it it very The Seeds™

Coming Undone [x] - wow how hot was jon davis kdjskjdks i mean he still is but hewlp senmdddd shheelpppshdaslkf

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒:

The Becoming [x] - yeah 😢 it really do be like that. if you've never heard this before it can be a little... jarring, unsettling and/or painful to listen to, especially if you aren't in a good or positive headspace. there are a lot of sudden and loud mechanical/industrial type of noises as well a running background track of people screaming out in pain so... enjoy. that.... i actually?? really love this song and the entire album. it describes the fight with mental illness well in my opinion.

Mr Self Destruct [x] - it's perfect. would also very much work for Joseph but i do think this is just verrrryyy, sickeningly Jacob

I Do Not Want This [x] - this is another that is just not good if you aren't in the headspace for it

Big Man With A Gun [x] - this is just. explicit. and rude. and accurate. you're welcome.

Eraser [x] - don't listen to this if you're feeling low or not well mentally. definitely a deputy ship song.

bonus cause i can't follow rules even of my OWN making and i could go on for an embarassingly LONG time about NIN in relation to any one of my muses and sjkdnksdfns here you go:

The Perfect Drug [x] - this is a great song for any seed/deputy ship tbh but kdjkfdjfsnkfndhbf this a whole ass mf ass jacob seed ass mood and i am yelling out loud and my dogs are barking and all my cats ran awAY AaaaAaa

𝑺𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒎 𝑶𝒇 𝑨 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏:

Violent Pornography [x] - this song makes me laugh out loud to be honest?? i am not? a sane individual

Cigaro [x] - LMAOOAHAHHAHAHSJABSDKAS UBISOFT SHOULD HAVE HIRED ME FOR THE WHITETAILS RADIO SOUNDTRACK BYEE HHHAJKDnsaf

Suite-Pee [x] - sorry but this is apparently just funny meme time now im hahjdgsfkjddgf

War? [x] - accurate meme hour continues

I-E-A-I-A-I-O [x] - glhfmlkfgmlkdfg i'mm ghlghklgkhl the absolute mutterings of a ginger madman trapped between two mountains

𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓗𝓾𝓻𝓸𝓷:

The Ghost On The Shore [x] - fricken love this song and this group

Drops In The Lake [x] - pooor ol widower. i've been toying with a universe where his wife is still clinging to life, mostly burnt and nearly dead in that old veteran's center and hahahaha this doesn't hurt at all 🥴

Long Lost [x] - this is fine. not imagining my otp. nope.

The World Ender [x] - 🤠🗡

Yawning Grave [x] - this is also a lucifer jam as fuck

𝕰𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖙 𝕸𝖔𝖘𝖘:

Silver + Gold [x] - super good ship song for character arcs; dep ship or not

Closedloop [x] - 𝒊𝒕'𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 . . .

I Heard [x] - what a fuckin jam. also wow how cute is elliot?? ? wow

99 [x] - i dont have anything to say its just so accurate and so good

Without The Lights [x] - this is a very accurate interpretation of a physically and sexually abusive relationship through dance, please use caution! but this is going to be accurate for any canon type relationship with jacob or maybe even all of the seeds. personally i refuse to write any strictly non-consensual material, but i am fully aware this is more than likely something that happens. having been in similar relationships in the past this video goes on repeat a lot and i can't even begin to say how beautiful it is- i cry every single time.

"𝓬𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓸𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓭𝓸𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓸𝓭𝓼 . . ."

hoLY COW if you made it this far you deserve something dont u... hmnnn. i'm sure i have something somewhere on a hard drive

that should do sjdkjfkd ok i love youu thank you for sending me this ask akjnsfdskf i hope u are having a great day!! bye!!

[christopher-the-cube]

Whumptober 2020

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY “Pick Who Dies” | Collars | Kidnapped

AO3

There’s a mission. 

There’s a mission, and everything is perfectly normal because they are the Umbrella Academy after all, and there are always missions. Everything’s perfectly normal.  

It’s a bank robbery.  

It’s fine.  

It’s normal.  

Luther goes in first, signals the rest of his siblings to come in after making sure the coast is clear, and once they’re all inside they start dispersing. He puts Klaus on lookout duty, sends Allison and Ben to scout the perimeter, figure out where the hell the hostages are being held. 

Then it’s just him, and Diego, and they split in opposite directions, searching for the thieves they were promised. 

It’s fine.  

It’s normal.  

They’re not even fifteen minutes in when things start getting ugly. 

The thing is-  

The thing is, they’ve been in the public eye since they were thirteen-years-old. They don’t really hide their faces, or their names, or their respective abilities.  

Criminals learn.  

Year, after year, after year, it seems criminals learn to expect them, to prepare for them, to figure out every single little detail that they can about them. They really haven’t been able to rely on the element of surprise in a pretty good while.  

The first goon Luther runs into is covered head to toe in black kevlar, which means Diego’s knives are going to be completely useless in this one mission.  

And it’s- fine.  

It’s annoying mostly, but Diego’s good at hand to hand and Luther’s pretty sure he’s not going to let a bullet proof vest stop him. Still, he starts feeling uneasy, gets a weird feeling low in his stomach, because- really, if they prepared for Diego, then who the hell knows what else they prepared for? 

The goon, as expected, charges towards him.  

But it’s whatever.  

Luther’s got superstrength.  

He deals with him, keeps marching forward.  

The bank has marble floors that look disturbingly similar to the ones back at home, and Luther keeps getting distracted whenever he catches sight of them. Between that, and the wood panels, and the occasional gold light fixture, he feels right at home.  

And that’s-  

Not particularly a good thing.  

It makes him jittery, makes him a little nervous.  

It’s eerily silent, too, just like home.  

The only sound he can hear is the squelch of his own shoes, his breathing, slightly agitated.  

It puts him on edge, the thought that something bad is supposed to be happening but there’s nothing at all. They were told there was an active robbery in place but he can’t spot a single robber save from that one guy he got rid of, and there are no other people, either, no hostages, no stray civilians waiting things out.  

He keeps walking. 

He keeps walking, and he keeps walking, and he keeps walking.  

He starts edging and edging towards the back of the bank, a maze of hallways and strange little rooms. Everywhere he looks, everything’s deserted, until- 

Until it isn’t.  

Luther takes a sharp left, walks into a random room, and thinks oh , oh there they are.  

The robbers.  

The hostages.  

Three men, all black kevlar, guns the size of their heads nestled a little too comfortably in their arms, pacing the room, walking left and right.  

At least a dozen hostages.  

It just doesn’t look good.  

Luther’s likes to think he’s got enough experience to be able to tell when someone’s just waving a gun around for the sake of it and won’t likely use it, and- to tell when they will, when it’s just a matter of waiting , and waiting , and doing their best, and fervently hoping the casualties will be kept to a minimum. 

It’s something about the way they stand, he thinks, about the way they carry themselves.  

These men are not afraid to spill some blood.  

And- 

If it wasn’t bad enough already- 

Between it all, Allison.  

Between it all, Ben.  

And, oh, they truly did prepare for them.  

They’ve got Allison with tape over her mouth- around her entire head, really. Sticky gray holding her jaw still, going around her lips and her cheeks and her hair, a job messily done, probably while she struggled and tried her best to squirm away.  

It’s gonna be stupidly painful to remove.  

Then Ben. Innocuously sitting. No restraints. No tape. No anything. But he’s immobilized all the same, unable to use his one strength against the robbers.  

They’ve got him sitting right in the middle of the hostages.  

If he were to release the Horror, they’d all be dead in a matter of seconds.  

So- 

No rumors, no eldritch.  

It’s- 

It’s fine.  

It’s fine.  

It’s not ideal, but it's fine.  

Luther takes a breath, waits to be spotted.  

It happens easily.  

He can see that Ben and Allison spot him the second he walks through the door, but they don’t really do anything. That’s good. Best not to make any sudden movements.  

Then it’s one of the goons, freezing where he stands, “Hey!” he barks, and his gun is suddenly pointed towards him.  

But that’s fine.  

Luther was expecting that.  

The others point their guns, too, and then it’s a standoff, Luther against the three men, the three guns. He remains stoic. He does not make a single move.  

“Which one is it?”  

“The strong one. I think.”  

“Don’t let ‘im get close then.”  

They know who he is.  

They know to use his strength against him.  

It’s fine.  

It’s fine, really.  

“Gentlemen,” Luther says, his voice carefully level, “I’m afraid I don’t like what you’ve got going on here. I’m gonna have to ask you to let these people go.”  

He receives a snort in response.  

“Not happening.”  

They stare at each other for a long, long time.  

Enough time that Luther thinks maybe they’re put at ease, maybe they won’t see him as such a blatant threat, maybe he can make a move, maybe, maybe, maybe-   

He takes a step forward.  

“Hey!”  

He takes another step.  

“Stop moving!”  

He takes another step.  

“You fucking- fucking stop moving!”  

He takes another step.  

“I said stop, damnit!”  

And- 

One of the men, the one closest to the hostages- 

“Stop! Stop! Fucking-”  

He sounds desperate, he sounds willing to do just about anything. Luther keeps getting closer and the man keeps stepping back, and he’s waving his stupid gun around like it’s some toy or something, and he’s not shooting Luther , so that’s good, but then-  

He turns around and puts a bullet in between a hostage’s eyes.  

Just like that.  

Blood and brains and bits of gore go flying, splattering all over the walls and the floors and- on Ben, on Ben’s face, and his chest, and his hair, and his eyes, and his mouth.  

Ben takes a sharp breath, snaps his eyes shut.  

There’s a wave of reactions from the hostages, whines, and cries, and disgruntled sounds, and Allison snaps her eyes shut as well, looks away.  

Luther doesn’t look away.  

He can’t look away.  

He can tell the man who fired grows agitated, holds the gun impossibly tighter, gains a crazed edge.  

The blood is strikingly bright. 

Luther can’t look away.  

“Step back,” the man barks at him, gesturing with his gun.  

Luther doesn’t really move.  

He-  

He doesn’t really handle it all that well, every time someone dies in front of him. It doesn’t matter how many times it’s happened, how many times he tries to convince himself he did all he could do and the one to blame is not him but the one who pulled the trigger.  

It’s still a life lost. On his watch.  

It’s still his fault.  

“Step back,” the man repeats, louder this time, and another one of them takes it as his cue to all but throw himself at Luther, to try and- tackle him or something, restrain him, and Luther-  

Well, they did warn the guy not to get close.  

He’s got superstrength.  

He pushes at the man’s shoulder, twists his arm until he’s dropped his own gun, kicks at him, pushes him down , makes sure he stays down , and- 

“Hey, hey, hey!”  

It’s the other guy. 

And Luther thinks he can probably reach him if he moves fast enough, but then there’s also the other guy to worry about, and- 

And suddenly- 

Suddenly-  

Suddenly that man, the trigger happy one-  

He reaches for Allison.  

He grabs a fistful of her hair and tugs harshly, pulls her towards himself, and she whimpers , and she’s got tape over her mouth but her whimper is stupidly loud, anyway, crystal clear, and the man holds her close with one hand, pushes his gun against her temple with the other one.  

Luther freezes.  

The man laughs.  

He laughs, and he laughs, and he laughs, “So that gets you to slow down, huh?”  

Luther doesn’t like the way that man is holding his sister, the way he’s holding that gun.  

There’s blood all the room, there’s chopped up meat, a cooling body. There’s Ben, splattered with sticky warm red, his eyes open wide, his hands balled into fists, shaking minutely.  

Luther doesn’t like the way that man is holding his sister. 

“Let her go,” he says, barely a whisper.  

“What was that?”  

“Let- let her go, you don’t know what you’re doing.”  

The man considers him, “How about you walk away and I’ll think about it?”  

But Luther shakes his head, “I- no, no, I can’t do that.”  

“You sure?” the man barks, and then he’s yanking forcefully at Allison’s hair all over again, and-  

And Allison doesn’t make a single sound this one time.  

She just stares right at him, her brown eyes full of something heavy.  

“S-Stop!” Luther says, and he’s stuttering , and he doesn’t know what to do, and he ends up searching for Ben, and Ben’s not really in a vantage point at the moment, either, in between civilians, unable to use his power, but he ends up searching for him all the same, desperately , urgently , “Ben-” he starts, but then-  

“Oh, no,” the man says, and he smiles big, all teeth, “No, no, no,” then he’s- walking towards Ben, five short steps, and he’s dragging Allison with him by the hair, and he’s stepping over the dead body like its nothing, and he’s pushing past the civilians without a care in the world. He looks at Ben in the eye, lifts his chin up with the barrel of the gun. “You’re not gonna try anything funny, are you?”  

And Ben shakes his head side to side, sits painfully still.  

“Leave him alone,” Luther says, and he’s taking a step forward without really meaning to.  

“Stay where you are!” the man barks, waving that damned gun around, “Don’t fucking move or I’ll fucking blow his brains out!” 

 And- 

God, god, god, Luther does stumble to a halt, he does, he absolutely does, but the momentum of his previous steps throw him forward, leaves moving still, for another second or two.  

“Alright, that’s it,” the man says, and he raises his gun, pushes it into Ben’s forehead with enough force to send him tumbling backwards and scrambling to lean on his elbows to try and straighten up, and the man goes to push the trigger, but-  

“No!” Luther yells, at the exact same time that Allison squeals something out as well, unintelligible, a jumble of words.  

“No what?” the man barks, “I’m fucking sick of you freaks, you’re so fucking-” and then, he stops. He stops, twists his lips into a smile, something wretched. “Tell you what,” he says, looking at Luther in the eye, and his casual tone clashes against the horrible words that leave his mouth, “Pick who dies.”  

Time slows down.  

“What?”  

The man looks stupidly smug, amused, like he’s enjoying this, “Pretty boy or pretty girl,” he says, gesturing at Ben and Allison respectively, “One of ‘em is dying. Your pick.”  

That’s more or less the moment in which Luther realizes if he doesn’t play his cards right, they’re not all coming out of this room in one piece.  

He likes to think he’s got enough experience to be able to tell when a person’s just spitting out threats for the sake of it and won’t go through with them, and-  

To be able to tell when he’s genuinely being asked to choose between the lives of his brother, or his sister. Two of the people he loves most in the entire goddamned planet.  

This guy-  

He seems the type that wants an answer.  

Seems the type that wants pain, that revels on it, that won’t stop until he’s made his victim suffer.  

And-  

Luther realizes, with a petrifying panic, he’s the victim here, in this scenario.  

He’s the one who interrupted whatever the hell these goons where about to do, he’s the one who made them mad, made them angry, he’s the one this man in front of him is placing all of his wrath in and now he wants to make him pay, to make him suffer, and the way he’s gonna do it is not by hurting him, but by hurting his siblings.  

“Take your pick.”  

Luther takes a breath, shaky, unmeasured. “Why- why don’t we calm down for a second? There’s no reason to-” 

“I’m not repeating myself,” the man hisses, angry, angry, angry, “Take your fucking pick already,” and-  

And his grip on Allison’s hair tightens, and he pulls at her hair, nearly lifts her off the floor by her hair, and she cries out, and she whimpers, and- 

“Shit, Allison,” Luther blurts, going to step forward but not daring to. 

And the goon smiles, “Ah, this one?”  

And suddenly the gun’s right by her head and- 

Luther realizes, horrified, that he said her name, that this man asked him which one of siblings to murder on cold blood and he said her name, “No,” he says, now, sharply, urgently, “No, no, no, that’s not what I-”  

And the man stares at him, and- 

His smile.  

His smile is the stuff of nightmares.  

“The other one, then,” he says, letting go of Allison, dropping her down like a ragdoll, “Good to know,” and then- 

In the blink of an eye, he turns around and he shoots Ben in the chest.  

Just like that.  

Bullet, after bullet, after bullet.  

Three times.  

It’s funny, but- in the blink of eye, in the blink of an eye , Luther has enough time to understand exactly what’s going to happen and why, he’s got enough time to understand it’s going to happen, whether he wants it or not, and it’s going to be his fault, always.  

He manages to catch Ben’s eye right before it happens, see panic and understanding sweeping his factions, turning his expression into something devoid of emotions, numb, something reigned by fear and nothing else.  

“Luther,” Ben mouths, right before the first bullet hits him.  

He drops down hard against the marble, and Allison screams.  

The thing hits him front and center, and they’ve all taken enough anatomy lessons to understand there’s no coming back from that, but still, in the blink of an eye, Luther gets the urge to kneel down by his side, to push at his wound, to keep him alive -  

And Ben gurgles, and coughs up blood, and chokes out a pained noise, and-  

And another bullet hits him. 

And then another.  

And then-  

He stops moving.  

He just stops moving, stops breathing, too.  

Times slows down.  

Time stops existing.  

The man with the gun starts laughing hysterically, mad cackles echoing all around them.  

Then Allison’s starts screaming and doesn't stop, her cries intertwined with sobs, and Luther has the distant thought that maybe she should try and avoid crying with the way her mouth is covered. Doesn’t she know she could choke to death like that?  

Times slows down.  

Time stops existing. 

Ben’s not moving. Ben’s not breathing.  

There’s blood pooling around him, a sea of red.  

Ben’s-  

Ben’s dead.  

Ben’s dead.  

(“Pick who dies.”)  

Luther took his pick, didn’t he?  

Luther was a bad leader, and a worse brother, and he couldn’t handle a simple mission, couldn’t handle that responsibility, that duty , to keep his family. 

It’s-  

It was a simple question, wasn’t it?  

Pick who dies.  

He should've said me , should’ve said  me, me, leave my sister alone, leave my brother alone, should’ve said, should’ve begged, kill me, let them leave, kill me, please.

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: Towers of Midnight prologue (part 3)

Levelling up and last stands

Graendal to Galad, and now Galad to Padan Fain. It’s like alignment whiplash.

The sky was black. A tempest. He liked that, though he hated the one who caused it.

This is great because there’s just a hint of ambiguity to who that actually may be. Rand? Or the Dark One? And when you have to ask, even for a second…well, that’s sort of the point, isn’t it.

Hatred. It was the proof that he still lived, the one emotion left.

Well, that’s one more than Rand at any rate.

(Pre-Dragonmount, I mean).

Padan Fain exists to chew scenery and you know what buddy? Chew away. Live your dreams.

Did his hatred cause that storm? It must be so. Yes.

Sorry Fain; pretty sure Rand has first claim on I am the storm. He just carries it better, you see. It’s a good look on him and we don’t mess with that.

I typo-ed that as ‘it’s a god look on him’ and really… either way.

When you accepted madness into yourself – embraced it and drank it in as if it were sunlight or water or the air itself – it became another part of you.

I’m mostly amused by how similar this sounds to the wording of Egwene thinking of how the Aiel handle pain. In this case I don’t think it’s particularly intentional or meaningful or anything, but it amuses me.

Another part of you. Like a hand or an eye.

Not sure those are the best examples, given Rand and also very likely at some point Mat, but sure.

He was finally free.

Has something changed? Oh, wait. Is this the first we’ve seen of him since saidin was cleansed? And Shadar Logoth destroyed? I think it is, in which case… interesting. Particularly interesting since it doesn’t seem to have affected the dagger’s power – Fain’s still obsessed with his precious, at any rate – and last we heard Rand’s wound(s) hadn’t healed. But Shadar Logoth was destroyed, and its power seemingly with it, more or less, and so now Fain or Mordeth or Smeagol or whoever he is these days is free, in a manner of speaking. That’ll end well for everyone involved, I’m sure.

Oh he killed a worm. And he’s in the Blight so that’s a Worm. Im…pressive?

Mist had begun to trail him, creeping up from the ground. Was that mist his madness, or was it his hatred? It was so familiar. It twisted around his ankles and liked at his heels.

Like a yellow fog, that rubs its back upon the window panes, a yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window panes, licks its tongue into the corners of the evening…

No? Or perhaps like, say, Mashadar? I mean, maybe it’s nothing, but if it’s not nothing, that’s… concerning. Were more things freed than Fain, in the ruination of Shadar Logoth? Open to give the world hope but did it also release some element of despair?

The mist struck.

And unless we’ve transported into one of Sanderson’s original works, that means I’m right and the cleansing of saidin did indeed have some… unintended consequences. Which is fitting, in a grander sense of balance, but still kind of… well, sad.

So Fain has levelled up again, it would seem, which is the outcome absolutely no one needed.

That said, he played enough of a part early on, and enough has been made of him from time to time afterwards, that it would be kind of weird to leave him out of the ending. Personally I wouldn’t particularly mind; watching him chew scenery is fun enough from time to time but the rest of the time I sort of tend to forget about him, and I’m not particularly invested in anything to do with him, and the slightly more critical side of me wonders if he was ever truly necessary as a character… but at this point in a series, once you have a character like that, dropping them now would feel untidy. It would feel like an oversight, or like lazy plotting.

Which is hard, when everything about him suggests that his entire purpose is to be a wildcard character. He doesn’t have a clear fated role to play in all of this, unless it’s something to do with his link to the dagger and, via that, to Mat somehow.

Instead, he’s a powerful entity on a third side in a two-sided war. Yes, there are far more factions than that within each of those sides, and so much of the point of the last several books has been that lack of unity, and the tragedy but perhaps inevitability of fighting against those who should be your allies, of losing sight of the larger conflict in favour of the smaller and more immediate ones, and of trying to forge some kind of alliance despite that, and the ways in which that can succeed or fail.

But Fain is less a part of that and more a completely outside element. Not, in a way, unlike Aridhol itself was, as it became Shadar Logoth. A darkness and an evil that came from a form of the Light and its hatred of the Shadow and, over time, twisted. And therefore was an evil that was not truly of the Shadow, but was no longer an ally of the Light. Instead it was its own poison.

That’s kind of what Fain is. Which certainly has potential, as a story element, but I am curious to see how that’s played, and how well it’s played, given the sheer volume of characters we’re dealing with, and the size of this conflict, and the many other themes already at play. Can his role, whatever it is, end up feeling satisfying? I guess we’ll read and find out on that one.

Anyway, that was a bit of a tangent, but the point of it was: yes, he’s levelled up, because I think he has to in order to have a hope of having his part in the ending being interesting or satisfying.

Red below, black above. Red and black, red and black, so much red and black.

See, the thing is, I know for a fact that Brandon Sanderson is a fan of Les Miserables, so I am fully justified in humming ‘red, the blood of angry men; black, the dark of ages past….’

Also, Moridin would approve. Of the colour scheme, if nothing else.

And also of the chaos. Some say the world will end in (bale)fire, some say in ice, and Padan Fain says fuck it why not evil killer mist. Less poetic but sure.

(Let’s play a little game called: over the course of the liveblog, how much of an English Literature syllabus do we think I’ve referenced? …on second thought let’s not play that game)

Oh, the Trollocs didn’t die, they just got a Mashadar Makeover and now they’re competing for Malkier’s Blight’s Next Top Abomination.

He left the Myrddraal. It would not rise, as rumours said they did. His touch now brought instant death to one of its kind. Pity. He had a few nails he might have otherwise put to good use.

Perhaps he should get some gloves. But if he did, he couldn’t cut his hand. What a problem.

The thing is, while the style here is very Sanderson, for a character like Fain it actually works pretty well. Which is mainly, I think, because I have long suspected Sanderson has a soft spot for writing characters who are utterly batshit and having the time of their lives with it. Pass the scenery, and the salt. Yum.

Like an old friend. A dear, beloved old friend that you were going to stab through the eye, open up at the gut and consume by handfuls while drinking his blood. That was the proper way to treat friends.

Sure, it lacks the undertone of beautiful horror, and the poetry of Machin Shin whispering about braiding flayed skin, which is in a way a shame. But it conveys the essential message and character, and at least for me, this works well as an example of Sanderson’s approach of not trying to imitate style because that could go so badly, but instead emulating the feel of the story itself. Sometimes it doesn’t work, but here, at least for me, it does.

It's ironic in a way that it’s a similar thing to what he’s done with Mat, but it has the opposite effect. With Mat – I’ve written about this elsewhere, but tl;dr is that I think he read Mat as funny and so tried to write Mat as funny, using his own methods rather than Jordan’s because imitating style exactly is a lost cause, but something very essential was lost in the translation (like the fact that Mat himself isn’t really humorous; it more comes from the contrast of his thoughts with his actions, and his character against the world around him, but I digress again). So he went for ‘convey the same idea through my own methods rather than trying to imitate Jordan’s’ – consciously or subconsciously – and it backfired. But with Fain, he’s taken the same approach – ‘convey a scenery-chewing wildcard who has lost every mind he’s possessed, which is several’ – and this time the same-idea-different-style still gets that across in a way that feels true to character.

Obviously mileage can and will vary on whether or not this works, but for me it’s just an interesting study in how a certain approach or method can succeed or fail depending on exactly how and where it’s applied, and what the cause of that success or failure may be – why it works in one place but not another, and what went right or wrong.

It is, I think, something of a writing exercise if you want to turn it into one. A bit like reverse-engineering an outline from a book you’ve read (I do this often; I realised at some point that I was doing it and then I made a point of doing it deliberately, and it’s super interesting, and for me at least it’s helped me think more deliberately about the structure of a story, and how that can be leveraged for different effects). But thinking about the specifics of what does or doesn’t work for you about the authorship switch – a particular character, or a scene, or the pacing, or the handling of a certain theme, or anything else – and then digging into the specifics of why it works, or doesn’t.

That, for me, has been more interesting than just picking out the differences. Sure, I’ll nitpick, but I prefer not to focus on it, because ‘this is different’ feels… kind of pointless. Of course it’s different. Figuring out exactly what is different, or why it’s different is interesting sometimes. But also figuring out where and how that difference matters or doesn’t is more what I’m trying to get at here. Because some of the differences, I don’t mind. Some, I do. And trying to understand why I mind some and not others has been helpful at least for me in, again, understanding all of those elements of a story or piece of writing better, and thinking about how they could be used or changed or recombined.

But then, I’m the kind of person who likes to take things apart to figure out how they work. And also to overthink every goddamn text I consume.

Still, it’s a fun one if you’re in the market for writing exercises to try whilst in quarantine.

*

Malenarin Rai. Bold of you to introduce a new POV character in the penultimate book of a series that already has dozens if not hundreds, but that’s WoT for you.

Also it’s a prologue so the rules are different.

Heeth Tower is a weird name. Heeth. But then, I don’t think Sanderson has ever been quite as good with names as Jordan was. And that’s the sort of change I’m not going to get too worked up over. (Also, it was Jordan who gave us Mountains of Dhoom, so I rest my case).

The whistling wind rattled the wooden shutter.

It’s not time for the wind yet; we’re still in the prologue! Wait your turn, wind; chapter one should be here any day now.

Using a Trolloc horn as a paperweight is pretty badass, Malenarin, but Furyk Karede and his human skull wineglass might offer some competition.

I don’t think we’ve spent much – any, depending on where exactly the scene in TPoD’s prologue takes place – time in Kandor outside of New Spring. I guess we’ve got to finish filling in the map now; we’ve only got one book left!

Malenarin’s son is turning fourteen soon, so he might just be lucky enough to get Tarmon Gai’don as a birthday party.

He smiled, setting the Trolloc horn on the note, in case that shutter broke open again. He’d slain the Trolloc who had borne that horn himself. Then he walked over to the side of his office and opened his battered oak trunk. Among the other effects inside was a cloth-wrapped sword, the brown scabbard kept well oiled and maintained, but faded with time.

Typing it out, it’s not even that similar, but reading this my first thought was of Tam al’Thor, pulling out his old trunk and his old sword at the beginning of The Eye of the World, before giving it to Rand as he sets off on his coming-of-age story.

To have a duty was to have pride – just as to bear a burden was to gain strength.

In moderation, though. *Looks pointedly at Rand al’Thor*

I still don’t understand how turning their backs on the Blight to go find the Dragon Reborn to tell him to pay attention to the Blight is a good idea for the Borderland rulers. I must be missing something here and I hope it is eventually revealed to me, because otherwise that is terrible strategy on so many counts.

The only way to go to the fourth level was to climb a narrow, collapsible ramp on the outside of the tower

What could possibly go wrong? I mean, last time we were in Kandor a kid was thrown off a balcony, so…

[Jargen] wore a cord looped around the shoulder of his brown uniform; it bore a knot for each Trolloc he’d killed. There had to be approaching fifty knots in the thing by now.

That’s cute, Rand says, flicking dust off his shoulder Luke-Skywalker-in-The-Last-Jedi style, and flicking some Arrows of Fire off with it to torch another thousand or so Trollocs without breaking a sweat.

But okay, yes, for an ordinary non-protagonist non-Lan in a random guard tower in Kandor, I suppose that qualifies as pretty badass.

The beacons have been lit! Gondor Rena Tower calls for aid!

Pretty sure that’s your cue, Lan.

Or not; Malenarin seems to think it’s his cue to confirm the SOS and start preparing the tower for… bad things, probably.

Seriously, wind, wait your turn.

Of course his son is next on the list of messenger boys to be sent out. Well, it’s a better fate than being thrown off a balcony at least. Maybe.

‘No, we need to send several messengers. Double up. Just in case the towers fall.’

Do you have any uncrowned infant kings you want to send as well? Just checking.

Malenarin let himself feel a hint of relief that his son was one of those riding to safety. There was no dishonour in that; the messages needed to be delivered, and Keemlin was next on the roster.

There is a kind of parallel here – less a parallel, perhaps, than an echo – to Lan. A son sent to safety as a Borderland hold prepares to fall, the sense of a last stand. Because in the Borderlands perhaps that is not so unusual a story, in its way. The Wheel of Time turns.

It was time for Tarmon Gai’don. And looking out into the storm, Malenarin thought he could see to the very edge of time itself. An edge that was not so far distant.

Maybe you should have a dream-chat with Moridin, Malenarin. Maybe it’s just the air in the Blight: gives you nihilist thoughts.

Oh oops, his son wasn’t one of the messengers to go. Because he decided to be all noble and let another boy go in his place, whose mother had already lost four sons. That’s sweet, kid, and it’ll probably get you killed.

Tian, Sanderson? Named after another ill-fated messenger boy in your own works, perhaps?

‘Run down to my office,’ Malenarin said. ‘There is a sword in my oaken trunk. Fetch it for me.’

Aw. Because his son has proven himself a man, three whole days early. Because we’re approaching the end now, and it’s time for everyone to take their last steps into their roles, become who they must be to face that end – whether they’re a protagonist or just some poor doomed kid in a tower in the Blight.

It's something these kinds of snapshot one-off scenes are good for: to show the scope of the story, that it touches everyone, no matter that they’ve never even met Rand or any of the others. And to give this sense of those final steps happening in snapshots like this across the land. The sense of an entire world taking a last deep breath. And so we pause for brief close-ups on the faces of some of the extras stepping onto the battlefield, to illustrate that.

Keemlin’s swearing his version of the ‘kill the bad things until we die or they do’ that every Borderland (and Aiel) nation seems to have, each with its own slight semantic variations.

‘Rise as a man, my son!’

This is no place, or time, for children. Ergo, he can no longer be a child, by simple virtue of being here. Which makes this a rather bittersweet moment; Malenarin’s proud of his son but there’s also this sense that far too many children are having to grow up far too fast in these last moments (and others will never grow up at all – in today’s theme of referencing poetry I like, go check out The Lads in their Hundreds).

They yelled defiance of the Shadow. For a moment, their voices rang louder than the thunder.

I don’t have a lot to say about this except that it’s a lovely image.

Together they turned to face the oncoming Shadow.

Nice knowing you.

Draghkar overhead and Trollocs oncoming, and they’re just a lonely tower waiting to die. I do love a doomed last stand, even if it’s characters I’ve never met before and likely will never see again.

Malenarin was a man of the Borderlands, same as his father, same as his son beside him. They knew their task. You held until you were relieved.

THAT’S YOUR CUE, LAN.

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