#it's got weird wording because the original printed wording is old and fucked up

[dravidious]

You're like REALLY cool

Thought about my Animate Dead rewrite that used "[change zones] until this card leaves the battlefield" and got a fucked up idea. I also made an actual literal dreadnought boat because that was severely missing from the dreadnought cards

[ughgoaway]

i hate matty healy- chapter 5

content warnings: 18+ (mdni), smut, blowjobs, swearing, drinking, questionable decisions and probably other things I'm forgetting <3 word count - 4600-ish

a/n: hi again!! sorry this is kinda long it got away from me, if it's too long and you prefer shorter chapters pls let me know! anyway, this chapter was fun to write but rereading it I lowkey hate it but if I try to go through and edit it again I will kill someone so I'm leaving it be <3 I'm currently obsessed with matty + the red guitar and that's all my brain can think of!! thats all byeee

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Old pictures and posters cover the ceiling staring back at you. An old blur poster, next to an oasis one because you could never choose. Pictures of your sixth form prom, you arm in arm with George after you got cancelled on by your original date and he stepped up to take you. And of course, the very first poster of the 1975 to be printed. Technically it was the first poster of Drive like I do but one day Matty came over announcing they had changed the band name. Again. And crossed out drive like I do and scribbled “the 1975” over the top.

If you didn't know better you'd think that poster was the only one up there, it seemed to grow each time you stared up. Every time you lay down on your childhood bed you are met with a picture of him. The dickhead you're trying to convince yourself you really do think is a dickhead. But here you are again. At 3 am staring up at his face. The moonlight filtering through your window was highlighting the poster almost mockingly. God even the moon was working against you.

You growl in frustration and go onto your phone in an effort to distract your racing mind only to be met with another photo of Matty and the boys. Fucking Matty. It felt like he was stalking you. Which would be impressive considering you and him hadn't spoken in 2 weeks, not since that night on the tour bus.

As you expected the guys hugged and made up the next morning, consoling each other like 15-year-old girls. But the same couldn't be said for you and Matty. You hadn't spoken at the last show, in the airport or even on the plane home despite being sat together. It was a very frosty 14 hours. But if he was going to be stubborn, you would be stubborn right back. You hadn't let him win before and you certainly wouldn't now.

Only a few miles away Matty was in a very similar situation to you, staring at the ceiling willing his brain to stop swirling. As you were all on a brief break from tour Matty thought it would be best to come home to Wilmslow, just to make sure he wouldn't see you in London. Because if he did he's not sure how much longer he could keep up the stubborn act, and he was nothing if not competitive.

He really did feel bad about that night on the bus but he needed you to crack first, he couldn't lose again. Little did Matty know that you had thought the same thing, you were desperately craving the comfort home gave you and the distance from him. In trying to be apart the two of you had only pushed yourself closer.

Fresh air. That would sort you right out, normally you couldn't take a walk at 3 am but that was in London. Wilmslow was nothing like London, the most dramatic thing to happen in months is Ken and Linda's divorce so you didn't feel like you were at much risk for being brutally murdered. Unbeknownst to you, across town Matty was having the exact same thought. Well, almost the same thought, he can't say Ken or Linda crossed his mind.

Cold air filled your lungs and your mind flashed back to the night at the club. The weird eye contact, the awkward cigarette and the strange silent agreement all shot to the front of your mind. Shaking your head you try and tell yourself to just stop thinking. With no place in mind you just began moving, the thought of standing still for 5 more seconds seemed impossible to you. Before you knew it your feet were taking you in the direction of the skate park, a place you frequented a lot when you were younger.

Desperately tagging along with your older brother to start with but as you got older it was your brother and his mates, who soon became your mates. Well some of them did. The one glaring exception to that was also on his way to the very same skate park, old skateboard in hand.

Matty had slithered out of his mum's house as quietly as he could, trying not to wake her or Louis up, knowing he would never hear the end of it. Before he left he grabbed his board from the cupboard under the stairs, he briefly thanked whatever God there may be that his mum hadn't binned it on any of her cleaning rampages.

With each step you felt your mind freeing, being home always put you at peace; apart from your mum sometimes but you would never tell her that. Eventually, you see the skate park start to come into view, you'd tried to stop at the corner shop to get some alcohol before remembering that you weren't in London, and the corner shop closed about 7 hours ago.

The smell of freshly cut grass filled your senses the further into the park you went, it comforted you as you trudged your way across the large football field that separates the main park from the skatepark. After many complaints from parents about “hooligan teenagers” the skate park was moved slightly further away from the play equipment.

For a second, you could've sworn you saw a shadow on one of the ramps, but you wrote it off as an animal or something. No one else would be out at this time. You are pretty sure the whole town of Wilsmlow was asleep from 9 pm to 7 am every day. 

You reached the top of the smallest ramp and sat down swinging your legs over the ledge and for 5 whole minutes, you hadn't thought of Matty once until you heard an unmistakable voice ring out from below you. 

“You’re kidding me right now.” You froze, briefly thinking it was your imagination but nope, you looked down the ramp and met with the eyes of the very man you were desperately trying to avoid thinking about. 

You had no witty reply, no quick retort because at that moment you couldn't think of anything worse than seeing him. Especially when he looked like that. His normally perfectly manicured curls were fizzy and unkempt. He was wearing an old pair of tartan pyjama trousers, a ripped oversized harley davidson t-shirt and a fluffy cardigan that if you were to guess, was his mum's. Dark circles surrounded his eyes which looked slightly sunken, and in his left hand was the same board you coveted from all those years ago.

Maybe it wasn't the rockstar performer Matty that most people knew, but this was your favourite Matty. The Matty only a few people saw, the slight sleep-deprived domestic Matty always had a soft spot in your heart. Not that he knew that, you're not even sure you knew that until you saw him in that moment.

Silently he jumped up next to you and sat down, both of you chose to ignore the way your shoulders brushed and the way spark it created. After a few beats you got the courage to speak up, “is that the skateboard you taught me to skate on?” you asked, remembering the long few weeks of learning to skate. It was a summer of many bruised knees and drunk nights in the park; to this day it was one of your fondest memories of home.

Matty jumped slightly at your voice, not expecting you to be the first to talk, “Yeah, mum never threw it out I guess. Do you remember how shit you were?” He giggled out the last sentence, his shoulders shaking your own. You eventually started to laugh with him, if you were honest with yourself you really were shit. Ross had taken to skating so quickly you thought it would be the same for you but it wasn't.

“Yeah, I do. Remember that I was such a shit student that all the boys fobbed me off to you? They knew you wouldn't go easy on me like they did.” This caused a loud laugh to bubble out from both of you which soon turned into sleep-deprived cackling that had you holding your stomachs and gasping for breath.

Eventually, you got your breath back and lay down staring up at the sky, Matty soon followed suit and the silence resumed. But this silence was slightly more relaxed, still not pleasant but it was better. 

“Hey, you want to go back to mine? I have a bottle of wine stashed under my bed from my 19th that I'm desperate to drink right now.” Matty whispered, despite no one being around it still felt like it was right to whisper. He expected a hard and fast no from you but instead, you were quiet. A little too quiet, Matty turned his head to look at you and was shocked to find you already facing him. 

He stared into your eyes and admired the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek. You did the same to him, loving the way the moon reflected in his deep brown irises.

Just as quietly as he asked you responded with a simple, “Yes, let's go.” Soon enough you were walking side by side down the streets of the small town you both grew up in. This time, the silence was comfortable. Unusual, but comfortable. 

The keys rattled in the door of Matty's door as he opened it, slowly he poked his head around and thankfully no one was awake. He ushered you in and you followed him slowly up his stairs, a sense of familiarity washed over you as you looked around. His house hadn't changed from when you were young. The same Beatles artwork lined the hallway and the stairs were still covered in a deep purple carpet that Denise always insisted she would replace “next year.”

Matty's room was also the same you thought as you walked in, you hadn't spent much time in here but over the years you'd picked up Ross from band practice or sat with the boys getting high. It was still very similar to your own, every surface was covered in posters. Various bands littered the walls along with posters of his favourite movies, pulp fiction and true romance took pride of place above his bed.

Of course, it was still matty so there was also a rather large “Legalise it” poster above the keyboard in the corner. His bed was decorated with black sheets covered in small white stars. The headboard had fairy lights wrapped around it, you had made fun of Matty when he first put them up but he insisted they were “fucking vibey.” And to be fair to him, when you were stoned they really were.

You sat down on the bed and Matty got on his knees to begin looking for the wine stashed under the bed. Already slightly drunk just on the presence of Matty you joked, “Now there's a sight I like, Matty Healy on his knees” An unimpressed look fell over Matty's face as you began to giggle at your own immature joke.

“Such dirty jokes darling! And in my childhood room nonetheless” Matty jokingly retorted after coming back up victoriously, a bottle of wine in hand. The springs squeaked when he sat down next to you, he unscrewed the wine and took a quick sip before handing it over to you.

The maroon liquid slid down your throat and immediately calmed your racing thoughts, you knew it couldn't work that quickly but in that moment you didn't care for logic. “As if this room hasn't seen a lot worse over the years Healy, I've heard the horror stories!” you smirked as you handed Matty back the bottle. Passing it back and forth between you, both taking short sips and enjoying the pretty cheap wine.

“Horror stories! Sweetheart I’m wounded” Matty joked holding a hand to his heart and acting as if you had stabbed him. His childlike actions solicited a small laugh out of you, soon a hush fell over you both as you looked into each other's eyes and wordlessly kept swigging the wine.

Matty's eyes flicked down to your lips so briefly that if you blinked you would've missed it. But you didn't miss it. And he didn't want you to. Your breath shifted as he started to move ever so slightly closer, as if he was testing the water.

You didn't have the patience to test the water and crashed your lips into his, pulling his face into yours. He quickly reciprocated and pulled you into his lap gripping your ass as you ground down into him, only the thin fabric of both your pyjamas kept you separated. 

You felt matty hardening beneath you and a plan formed in your head, with a smirk you broke the kiss. Matty desperately chased your lips but you pushed him away and began slithering down his body, before long you were on your knees in front of him. “You know I never did apologise for the other night” you drawled out, sliding your hand up his clothed thighs, rising up slightly on your knees.

“Oh- yeah- I meant to apologise for that-” Matty began to ramble, with the way you were looking up at him- how could he not? He was starting to stutter when you interrupted him with a hand on his chest.

“Matty im the one apologising remember? What did you say again? Oh yeah, ‘next time you come crawling back to me you'll have to beg on your knees.’ well here I am, on my knees.” You began to press small slow kisses up his neck, licking and sucking when you reached the edge of his jaw. 

Matty swiftly realised you wanted this, and you wanted him. He slipped right back into the new version of him you had begun to love. “Well baby, I did say beg and I haven't heard that yet” he tried to keep his voice steady as you hit a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear.

Sitting back on your knees slightly you make eye contact with Matty and breathe out, “Please let me suck you off Matty. Please. I promise it will make you feel so much better.” you punctuated the end of your sentence with a particularly dirty kiss that pushed Matty right to the edge. 

“Shit- yeah go ahead baby” Matty sighed out and soon enough you were making your way back down his neck and torso.

You pressed your face into the warm skin of Matty’s stomach, pushing hot kisses down his body until you reach his waistband. You let a shaky breath out as you pull down his trousers and free Matty's achingly hard cock. He let out a strained moan as he looked down at you, seeing you on your knees looking up at him with doe eyes and fluttering your eyelashes is going to be the death of him; he was sure of it. 

“I've been thinking about doing this for a long time” You muttered, letting your lips and tongue delicately brush against Matty's tip. He growled in response and griped your hair harshly, desperately trying to avoid just fucking your mouth.

“C'mon sweetheart stop teasing or I’ll- shit-” Matty's complaint was cut short by you taking him in your mouth all the way down and swallowing around him. His fingernails scratched your scalp as he grabbed and pulled your hair.

Your nose brushed the dark curly hairs and the base of his dick as you held it in your mouth, focusing on the deep buzz of desire making its way through you. Matty jerked his hips forward at the feeling causing you to gag but at that moment you didn't notice, the only thought in your head being making him feel good. Your hand press his thighs against the bed, revelling in the noises coming from Matty, each new grunt and groan fuelled your ego.

You began moving up and down on his cock, taking what you didn't have in your mouth in your hand and jerking it. Slowly you gain confidence and start moving quicker, twisting your hand at the base and going up and down his shaft. Tracing the large vein on the underside with your tongue each time you move up and down. You came fully off and began making out with his tip, giving the underside kitten licks and groaning at the taste.

The low groan that resonated out of you caused Matty to jerk forward once again, you took it as an invitation and dropped your hands from his thighs and looked up at him. You keen into his hand hoping he would understand your silent plea. Your blood-red nails trailed down Matty’s legs leaving scratches in their wake. Matty thrusts again in your throat, loving the feeling of you marking him; the pleasure mixing with the pain.

Tears are streaming out of your eyes and spit bubbles at the corners of your mouth but you couldn't care less at this moment because Matty was looking at you with such hunger it causes wetness to pool in your underwear. Looking up at him you begin to beg with your eyes, desperate to have him claim you.

Matty delicately swipes the mascara-coloured tears from your cheeks and asks the question he's been so desperate to since you dropped to your knees “You want me to fuck your mouth huh baby? fuck you up a little?” you nod as fervently as you can with his cock resting in your mouth, causing Matty to spit out a string of curses.

“Yes fuck- I always thought of doing this to you in here shit-” Matty sighs out as he begins experimentally thrusting into your throat. You were too lost in the haze to hear his comment and began to gag slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat. A low moan from you encouraged Matty to go faster and soon enough he was fucking your throat wildly, ignoring any gags from you only being spurred on by the moans leaving your filled throat. 

Each time Matty's hard cock hits the back of your throat you have to hold back a whimper. His cock fit perfectly in your mouth and you loved feeling him. Matty had received many blowjobs in his 29 years of life but he would swear on anything that it has never felt this fucking good. Each time you tightened your throat around him caused his mind to reel and made his grip on your hair even more viscous as he puppeted your head up and down his shaft.

You swallow around Matty as he stares at your mouth stretched out around his cock, marvelling at your closed eyes; you were obviously enjoying this just as much as he was.

You couldn't get enough of the feeling of his heavy dick in your mouth. You flicked your eyes open to stare at the man in front of you, taking delight in the way sweat drips from his brow as he works himself in and out of your mouth.

“Such a good girl for me yeah? Knew you'd be back on your knees just not like this fuck.” Matt's head lulled back and he closes his eyes a low groan coming from deep within his chest. “I’m gonna cum sweetheart shit- look at me yeah? Look in my eyes when I cum down your throat.” As soon as your eyes meet, Matty is cumming hot and thick down your throat.

After a few seconds Matty pulls out and tucks his dick back into his boxers, as he looks back at you he sees you swaying slightly on your knees obviously fucked out, cum dribbling out of the corners of your mouth. Matty grips your chin and pulls your face up to meet his, “open your mouth.” 

As you do he's met with a sight that made him weak, your tongue was heavy with his cum. A primal growl comes from Matty as he leans down and spits in your mouth, snapping your mouth shut with his hand on your jaw. 

“Swallow,” he demands. A squeak of shock leaves your mouth only to be followed quickly by a moan as you swallow down the mixture of cum and spit. You try to grind down on something absentmindedly, desperately trying to alleviate some of the pressure building in your stomach. 

Matty notices your feeble attempt at feeling some relief and pulls you up onto the bed, holding your neck possessively as he says, “Oh baby did you get all worked up by me fucking your mouth?” You groan and give Matty a nod, desperate for him to help with the wetness between your thighs.

“I would help darling but this was an apology remember? You needed to say sorry to me, and you have. But you won't be getting anything in return. You should be thankful I let you suck me off.” he paused briefly a filthy smirk coming across his face. “So say thank you, baby”

Your voice was raw and scratchy from Matty's rough treatment as you breathed out a meek, “Thank you Matty” he smiled appreciatively at your obedience and cruelly patted your cheek. 

“Let's go to sleep now baby, come lay down with me,” Matty said as he lay down on his bed, patting the empty space next to him. You joined Matty and the two of you begin to lazily make out until the post-orgasm haze got the better of you both and you fell asleep on Matty's chest, rising and falling with each of his breaths.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains and illuminated the small space you were asleep in, dots and streaks moved through the room as the trees swayed and allowed sunlight to peak through and dance on the ceiling. Matty stared at your sleeping figure and thought about how peaceful you looked. He's only ever seen you so at peace once in his life before, the day he finally saw your apartment for the first time.

Unlike the other guys, Matty had never been inside your apartment let alone slept over but the others were always there.As far as Matty knew your apartment could be a secret drug den but all he's ever seen is the 3-meter-squared entryway. Until the day he finally got a peek when he picked Ross up on the way to the studio.

Ross had forgotten something inside so ran to grab it and accidentally left the door open, Matty immediately stuck his head in and began looking around; he ignored the fact that he was so eager to see how you lived.

Plants were everywhere, even trailing down the walls, which was strange to him; he never thought of you as a plant person. Large colourful sofas filled the living room as well as bookcases overflowing with old novels and nicknacks. They were dark oak, Matty assumed they were another charity shop find and admired the small rose engraving that trailed up the side of them.

Framed photos of you and the boys were on almost every surface, the sight warmed his heart a small bit. Despite spending 24/7 with them you still wanted them around in some way or another. Soon enough Matty realised that quiet music was filtering through the apartment and he felt himself being drawn toward it.

He began to follow the music that he now recognised as Otis Redding’s love man record; one of his favourites. The sight he was met with made his mouth go dry. You were standing in your pyjamas, softly swaying standing at the oven cooking pancakes. A small smile graced your lips as you mouthed the words, your hair wet from a shower. Matty couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at seeing you in such a domestic setting.

The large windows that were all over your apartment left you standing in a sunbeam, if Matty didn't know better he would think it was a spotlight. The light was filtering around you perfectly, bouncing off your pink silk pyjamas.

Matty didn't like how he felt at that moment. He felt a sense of yearning. To see this again, as much as he could. To be standing with you singing Otis Redding. Obviously, he knew as soon as you saw him this illusion would be shattered, and it was, but he almost began to enjoy the discomfort of standing there, knowing it was caused by you. 

Before long you spotted him, called him a perv for staring and pushed him right back to the entryway but Matty has never forgotten how you looked that morning. How restful it all felt. It reminded him of now as he watched you breathe, your hair sprawled over his pillowcase with a small smile on your lips. God, even when asleep you were beautiful. 

Wait. No. Not beautiful, just tranquil. Silent. Before he could spiral much longer you woke up from your sleep and smiled at him, observing how the sun behind him illuminated his frazzled curls and almost looked like a halo around him.

“Hi,” you said simply, not quite awake but aware someone needed to say something otherwise you're sure you'd be sitting in silence for the next hour. “Hi,” he said back the exact same way, with an airy quality surrounding the word.

The pressure was building between the two of you to have a real conversation about this, whatever it was. Because at this point it had to be something. But you weren't ready for that conversation and neither was he, all you both wanted to do was live in this moment. With the sun heating the room you were in, the light hit all the right places around you. So you did what any sane person would do at that moment, proposition him.

“Wanna have sex?” you bluntly said, raising your eyebrows suggestively. A Cheshire cat-like smile broke out on Matty's face as he leaned in and began kissing you. This kiss began slow, his lips moved slowly and carefully over yours, he moved his hand from the bed up to your cheek and pulled you in harder.

The kiss began to heat up as you grabbed Matty's bottom lip between your lip and pulled on it. In response Matty growled and pulled away, he laid down and grabbed your hips, pulling you onto him just like last night. 

You pulled away and sat up to admire the man under you, he had taken his shirt off at some point in the night leaving his chest bare, his pale skin was stark against the black sheets. You traced each one of his tattoos with your pointer finger admiring how his muscles tensed with your featherlight touch. His lips were red and puffy from the rough kisses, his cheeks were pink and he was flushed all over, giving his whole body a small glow.

Matty whined impatiently and pulled at the hem of your shirt prompting you to take it off. You quickly followed his request and stripped off the baggy shirt revealing your bare chest, your nipples pebbled at the cold air. Matty groaned appreciatively and sat up to begin assaulting your chest with kisses and leaving small hickeys in his wake, delicately scraping his teeth against your breasts. He marvelled at the breathy moans you let out as he continued his movement.

The door of the small room creaked open but both you and Matty were too preoccupied to notice, soon a voice broke the silence.

You screamed and pulled the blanket up to cover your bare chest. All three of you stood there and stared, chests heaving in shock and eyes wide. How the hell were you going to explain this? Fuck.

[player1064]

for the carraville prompts: jamie’s pov of your fic it’s just not what’s done, and him doing/saying increasingly gay things that fluster gary who thought he’d never have a chance with the straight boy

honestly I could write a full length fic of this I LOVE this idea but I am exercising restraint (read: i am too sleepy to keep writing but want to post it anyway) and cutting it off at 1.3k words. Jamie is so so annoying in this god bless xx

---

1996.

There’s a weird buzz in the air when Jamie arrives at Melwood in the morning, and not the usual frustration he’d expect the morning after the first team have lost a game. Everyone’s grouped in little huddles, hushed whispers that cut out when anyone else walks by, but the weirdest part by far is that everyone is holding a fucking newspaper.

He walks into the apprentice’s dressing room and snatches a paper out of one of the other lads’ hands. He turns straight to the back page, but there’s nothing particularly noteworthy there – United won the league, big fucking whoop – so he frowns and flips the paper back to the front page.

Jamie would normally dismiss anything The Sun prints as garbage, but a quick glance around the dressing room shows a few other papers scattered around, all with similar headlines. All with the same photo, printed to take up most of the page, full colour even on a weekday.

The Sun’s headline is not a particularly creative one, but is does get the point across quite succinctly: there, right above the grainy, dimly lit photograph, are the words GAY NEVILLE?

“Oh my fucking God,” he hears Michael whisper from behind him.

Gary Neville, right-back, Jamie’s brain helpfully supplies. Manchester United, 21 years old and already eight caps for England.

His next thought is: what a fucking idiot.

He doesn’t give a shit about the gay thing, not really – he did spend two years at boarding school, he knows what some of the boys got up to there. No, his issue is more that United have just won the league, and everyone knows in a few days they’ll be getting the double when they win the FA cup too. 21 years old, a starter for a team that’s about to make footballing history, a spot in the squad for this summer’s Euros, and the stupid prick’s just thrown it all away because he felt like getting off with someone at a club where anyone could see him.

Maybe he should ask his coaches about practicing in right-back. He has a funny feeling a spot’s about to open up on the England team.

 *

2004.

“Not so brave now that yer boyfriend’s fucked off to Spain, are ye?”

Neville gives him a disinterested look from across the tunnel.

“Not my boyfriend,” he says flatly, rolling his eyes like he’s recited that line a thousand times before.

He probably has, actually. Jamie needs to come up with better insults, something more original. He’ll workshop some for next time.

Still, better to dig in on this one. “No, I s’pose he’s not now that he’s traded you in fer better things. Yer not exactly a Galactico.”

Neville’s expression is still blank but there’s a hint of fire behind his eyes, which tells Jamie that he’s on the right track, that if he pushes just a little bit more he’ll be able to tip him over the edge.

He sees Keane step out from his place at the front of the line, turn to Neville and mutter “d’you need me to –”

“Couldn’t give a fuck, he’s not worth worryin’ over,” Neville replies, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

There’s no time to say anything back, because the referee walks to the front of the tunnel and then it’s time to go start the game.

*

2006.

“How’s it work, then?”

Neville looks up from the bowl of Weetabix he’d been intently focused on and glances around the room, like he doesn’t believe it’s him Jamie’s talking to.

He shrugs. “How’s what work?”

“The gay thing. Did yous get to bring a WAG over too, or is that only for the normal lads?”

“Wouldn’t be a WAG, would it?” Neville mutters snobbishly.

He’s right, Jamie supposes. But that’s obviously not something he can admit, so he decides to lean in to the ‘stupid Scouser’ bit. “Why not?”

Neville squints at him suspiciously. “’cause he wouldn’t be a wife or girlfriend, would he?” He clears his throat, looks back down at his bowl. “If he existed, that is. Only brought my dad over for this tournament, does that answer your question?”

“Hmm,” Jamie says, ignoring the obvious cue to leave and taking a seat opposite Neville instead. “What would they call ‘im, if you weren’t a sad lonely old spinster… husbands and boyfriends… HABs? Doesn’t ‘ave quite the same ring to it, does it?”

*

2013.

“Why’d you never get married?”

Neville – Gary – looks up from his iPad to give Jamie his familiar ‘I can’t tell if you’re having me on or if you’re actually just stupid’ squint. “’s only been legal a few months, give us a break.”

“Civil partnered then, whatever. I don’t get it. You’re rich, you were a footballer. I know you’re ugly but looks don’t really factor into it, if your brother’s marriage is anythin’ to go by.”

Gary scowls at him. “Different measures of attractive when you’re gay. I’ll ‘ave you know men find me quite good looking, actually.”

“Do they fuck,” Jamie snorts, because he’s willing to bet that there isn’t a single man on Earth, gay or otherwise, who finds Gary Neville in his current state attractive. Maybe in his playing days, when he was all lean muscle and intense glares, but not now. “They’re just queuin’ up to get a piece a’yous, are they?”

“Maybe they are. Not that it’s any of your business, but I actually ‘ave a date tonight.”

“And that’s after he’s had a look at you?”

*

2015.

“Don’t go.”

Gary looks exhausted, pale skin and dark shadows under his eyes. His hair needs a trim, his stubble needs a shave, and he needs to not move to fucking Spain.

“Don’t look so stroppy, Carra. You’re about to become Sky’s number one pundit.”

“Don’t want it. C’mon, Gaz, what’m I gonna do for my Monday mornin’ entertainment without tales of your endless bad dates.”

“Most people just read the news.”

 “What’re you gonna do, you’re bad enough at pullin’ as it is without a language barrier makin’ things harder. It’s like you want to spend the next five months celibate.”

“Yer awfully concerned about my personal life, James, for someone who not two weeks ago was tellin’ me that I needed to, and I quote, ‘spend less time thinkin’ about fit men and more on thinkin’ about fit footballers instead.’”

“And I stand by that.”

*

2016.

Jamie’s changing out of his gym clothes when his conversation with Gary earlier in the week echoes in his mind, the dreamy way Gary had said his arms…

The guy probably doesn’t even train as much as Jamie does, probably just exaggerates because for some reason he’s trying to impress Gary. As if Gary is someone you’d want to impress.

He stands in front of the changing room’s mirror and flexes his bicep, notes with pride the bulging vein that leads up from his elbow. It’s a shame, really, that he has to wear suits when he’s on Sky. He’s sure viewing figures would go up if he was allowed to wear something a little more form fitting, maybe he should pitch it to the wardrobe people.

Gary would probably have a fit, his tends to get in a tizz at the suggestion of any change to the strict set of rules he’s got in his head. Jamie had once tried to wear his suit without a tie (because he’d spilled coffee on the one he’d brought, not that he’d told Gary that), and Gary had screeched at him for a good half an hour about professionalism until he relented and went to wardrobe to find a spare tie he could use.

Imagine if he wore a t-shirt. Gary’s head would probably explode.

All the more reason to do it, really.

[ri-writing]

So, yes, let me tell the story of how I learned to sew thanks to Rogue One.  (Yes, the Star Wars movie).  For context, I had made it to 30-something without this skill.  A button would fall off something and I would look at it in confusion like “what do I do now?”  When I say I could not sew, I really mean it.

I saw Rogue One and was obsessed.  It was the Star Wars movie I always wanted.  The fact that Jyn Erso existed brought me literally to tears.  I decided I wanted to dress up like Jyn Erso (originally the thought was Halloween costume).  Now, here’s the thing - you can’t walk into a department store and buy a Jyn Erso costume.  That’s not a thing your local Macy’s sells.  If I wanted a Jyn Erso costume, I’d have to make it myself.

Never mind that I did not know how sewing a button on worked.  I wanted to be Jyn.  I was going to be Jyn.

Several years earlier, my cousin had given me my grandmother’s post-WWII era Singer sewing machine cabinet.  I used it as a table.  Well, I had a sewing machine.  That was step one.  Now I needed to learn how it worked.  I figured out how to set it up and, when I managed to thread the needle, I felt like I had discovered the mysteries of the universe.  I got thread on the machine!  I deserved a fucking Nobel Prize for that.

For the first part of my project, I made Jyn’s scarf.  This was a good first project because it’s sewing a couple pieces of fabric together and hemming it.  If I were to do it today, it would take me less than thirty minutes, but Never Sewn Before In My Life me needed a whole day.  However - I did it!  I had a scarf and it was long like Jyn’s!  I took pictures of myself wearing the scarf and shared them with anyone who made the mistake of communicating with me.  Look, every random acquaintance I have!  I made this!  I’m magic! 

I next decided I’d make Jyn’s vest.  I don’t know if y’all have ever seen this thing, but it is not your average vest.  It’s padded.  It’s lined.  It has these decorative lines cross stitched into it (they’re all 3/8 of an inch apart - yes, I know that now).  It has this weird webbing and there are tubes sewn into it because...Star Wars.  The back is tie quilted.  (I didn’t know what any of those words meant when I started this, btw.  A group on Facebook had to explain them to me).  Well.  I had made a scarf.  I could make the vest, too.  It was going to be harder than the scarf, and I’d probably make a lot of mistakes, but I could do it!

There was a kind person who had made her own Jyn vest and written down how to do it.  I printed out her instructions, which included a list of supplies, and I went off to the local fabric store.  Now, this place was confusing af.  I didn’t know what anything was or what any of the words meant.  I went to the help desk with my list and asked, “do you know what twill is?”  The person helped me find all the things I needed, then sent me over to the cutting station where someone would cut the amounts I needed.  I waited in line beside a little old lady.  She asked me what I was making.

Me: A Jyn vest!  :) :) :) Her: What’s that? Me: Here.  I have instructions!  If I follow them, I will have a Jyn vest! :) :) :) Her (realizing I have no clue what I’m doing): have you ever sewn before? Me (still happily oblivious): No Her: Wouldn’t you want to start with something easier, like a circle skirt? Me (with the gusto of Elle Woods telling her guidance counselor she doesn’t need backups and is going to Harvard): Nope!  I’m going to make a Jyn vest!

Reader, I made that Jyn vest.  It took all my waking time when I wasn’t working over the better part of 4-6 weeks.  Many a night was spent at 2 a.m. crying in my basement.  This garment literally has blood, sweat, and tears in it.  But I made it.  And I made it to a high enough quality that, after I made the rest of Jyn’s costume, I submitted it to the Rebel Legion and was accepted.  (Rebel Legion is a Star Wars costuming club).

Later, someone pointed out to me that I should have failed.  They weren’t being cruel about it - they were complimenting that I had persevered.  And the thing was - looking back now, knowing how sewing works and all, I should have failed.  That was not a beginner project.  It’s extremely detail oriented with tricky techniques and, if I were to make that garment today, it would still be a hard garment to make.  It had just never occurred to me that I could fail.  For the first time in my life, I hadn’t questioned whether I would be able to succeed.  I’d started assuming I would - I knew it would be hard and I’d mess up a lot, but I never assumed I wouldn’t get there in the end.  To this day, I’m quite sure the only reason I did not fail was because it did not occur to me that failure was a possibility.

Anyway.  That’s how I learned to sew.  Also, something about believing in myself.  That last bit is a work in progress.

[emchovy]

WHAT I READ IN JAN/FEB/MAR 2023:

This wasn't originally meant to include March but I procrastinated so long that it can! Anyway, here we go!

LIGHT NOVELS/NOVELS:

The Case Files of Jeweler Richard by Vol. 2

I like these light novels, but I don't have a ton to say. Would recommend if you're REAL into jewelry, or you like descriptions of pretty boys.

Star Trek: The Next Generation - Sins of Commission by Susan Wright

This ended up being a really enjoyable book! I read it mostly because I wanted info about one random minor character, (Jono Endar - star of a single TNG episode) and I heard he was mentioned in this one. He was, there was a touch of lore for him, loved all of that, but I ended up really loving the plot of this book, as well. It's a very tense story about the Enterprise going to assist a planet with an environmental crisis, which all gets worse when aliens who have an uncomfortable control over emotions come to stay on the Enterprise. It's a great book, with really good characterization of Riker and Beverly. Also at one point Geordi is pissed at Data and Data calls this experience "exhilarating". Hoo-boy.

Star Trek: The Next Generation - The Q Continuum by Greg Cox

I enjoyed this one as well. Set post-finale, this is a trio of novels (I read it all in an omnibus) about a foe from Q's past returning to plague the universe once again. The Picard/Q relationship here really shines, but I think Beverly gets a lot of great character moments too.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - A Stitch in Time by Andrew Robinson

Not to hardcore flex on anyone, but I've got a physical copy of this one. Thank you to my brother who got it for me.

Anyway, Andrew Robinson's famed chronicle of Garak's life, told in his own words. I think I'm gonna need more time to digest this one properly, but I really enjoyed it. (Also, Garak's slams on Dukat were funny. I clapped when the Cardassian with the super long neck was introduced.)

MANGA/COMICS:

Killing Me by Akiyama, Vol. 1

A fun vampire yuri comedy. A vampire hunter finds herself entangled with a vampire that goes to school with her, unable to kill her, no matter how hard she tries. Short 'n sweet. I don't think I'm going to pick up volume 2, but volume 1 ends on a nice note, so that's fine.

Phantom of the Idol by Hijiki Isoflavone, Vol. 4

Another volume of my favorite current comedy manga! POTI consistently manages to bring in great new elements and evolve relationships in interesting ways. Huge recommend.

On or Off by A1

This is a Korean webtoon, adapted to print form. A manager of a company that's creating an app for a much larger company ends up sexually and then romantically involved with the Large Company's CEO. A cute story, good art, and notable for BL, features lots of women, which always makes me super happy.

Ordinary Crush by Hyouta Fujiyama, Vol. 1

A BL anthology. It kinda sucks, as a lot of the old JUNE manga kinda does. I don't know why I keep buying these.

Oshi no Ko by Aka Akasaka

The story of a gynecologist who ends up doctoring to his favorite idol during her pregnancy. This story, however, goes so off the fucking rails I can't even describe it. Don't look this one up, just read it. It's insane.

Requiem of the Rose King by Aya Kanno

A weird manga, a historical fiction about the Real War of the Roses that Really Took Place. I enjoyed this manga, the art was beautiful, but perhaps the most interesting element was learning that the author was the creator of one of my roommate's favorite shoujo manga, Otomen. Cool!

Sotus by Bittersweet

A BL about a Thai university which features hazing as a major part of it's culture. This was a little uninspired, so we'll see if I read more.

Tokyo Alien by NAOE, Vol. 2

Pretty generic shonen sci-fi action, but I'm gonna keep reading! It's got enough there to keep me hooked.

Witch Hat Atelier by Kamone Shirahama, Vol. 4

Another volume of Witch Hat Atelier! This story is always fantastic, and I really enjoyed the character development in this one.

NOVELS/LIGHT NOVELS:

The Case Files of Jeweler Richard by Vol. 2

I like these light novels, but I don't have a ton to say. Would recommend if you're REAL into jewelry, or you like descriptions of pretty boys.

Star Trek: The Next Generation - Sins of Commission by Susan Wright

This ended up being a really enjoyable book! I read it mostly because I wanted info about one random minor character, (Jono Endar - star of a single TNG episode) and I heard he was mentioned in this one. He was, there was a touch of lore for him, loved all of that, but I ended up really loving the plot of this book, as well. It's a very tense story about the Enterprise going to assist a planet with an environmental crisis, which all gets worse when aliens who have an uncomfortable control over emotions come to stay on the Enterprise. It's a great book, with really good characterization of Riker and Beverly. Also at one point Geordi is pissed at Data and Data calls this experience "exhilarating". Hoo-boy.

Star Trek: The Next Generation - The Q Continuum by Greg Cox

I enjoyed this one as well. Set post-finale, this is a trio of novels (I read it all in an omnibus) about a foe from Q's past returning to plague the universe once again. The Picard/Q relationship here really shines, but I think Beverly gets a lot of great character moments too.

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - A Stitch in Time by Andrew Robinson

Not to hardcore flex on anyone, but I've got a physical copy of this one. Thank you to my brother who got it for me.

Anyway, Andrew Robinson's famed chronicle of Garak's life, told in his own words. I think I'm gonna need more time to digest this one properly, but I really enjoyed it, if only for Garak's slams on Dukat.

--

Anyway, that's the wrap-up for these three months! Feels really good to get that all accomplished! I still wonder if I should change up the review format somewhat, or maybe just start doing actual "what I read this month" vids on YouTube or something, but for now this is good.

[gar-trek]

I review killing time (or whatever)

Okay, yes this review has taken me forever and that’s because there’s so much I want to say, and most of it has very little to do with the plot of the book. I cut down a lot of this so you guys could just get to the main point of what I’m trying to say, so I apologize if this is a little brief or incomprehensible to those who haven’t read the book. 

And also, before I get into it, I would like to say rest in peace to the author Della Van Hise, who passed away in march of this year. She contributed a lot to the fandom, especially in regards to K/S fiction, as well as publishing a lot of non-trek related work during her life. 

First of all, if you have heard of Killing Time, there is probably one specific reason for that. It’s the same reason I picked up the book in the first place and why it’s really even a topic of discussion on this site. To put the story quite briefly, Killing Time was recalled during its initial release on account of the book having too many slash elements (aka, the relationship between Kirk and Spock could be read as sexual/romantic). I first heard about the book here in this post where the history of it is worded to sound like one very dramatic mystery. One user (no shade intended here) even goes as far as to say the book was recalled by old Gene himself! Now I’m always one for drama and such, but after reading the book I looked into it a little more, and I don’t think that’s exactly how it went down. 

Here you can find multiple statements from the author herself, in which she tells the whole story. According to her, the book publisher accidentally released an unedited manuscript that was never supposed to make it to the public. So technically the publisher did not recall the book because it was “too gay”, they recalled it because they printed a version that was never meant for the public to see anyway. These were the edits that were specifically requested by Paramount, who the publishers were supposed to go through to get the final okay on all material. And like, yeah, all of Paramounts edits were pretty much to delete any sentence where Spock and Kirk are tender to each other, they were trying to make is less homoerotic, obviously. I understand why this slight distinction may not make much of a difference to you guys, but for me it’s important to note that the book wasn’t recalled because it was too gay, it was just never supposed to be gay in the first place. It doesn’t make that fact any better, but it does make it less dramatic, in my opinion. I encourage you to read the statements from the author on this topic though, because she gives the whole story a lot better then I just did. 

Now to address the main question at hand, does Killing Time depict a romantic relationship between Kirk and Spock, or is it all just hype? (in layman's terms, is the book gay or not?) and to answer quite plainly, yes it’s gay. of course it is. but then to answer less plainly, no. What the fuck do i mean by this? well let me try and explain. 

I read the second edition of the book, aka the censored version, but I also followed along with the first edition (using this great article). The changes made to the book did not effect the plot at all, and were really only minor things. Notably, in the second edition they just kind of left out any part where Spock and Kirk touch each other (and I don’t mean in a sexual way). For example, there is a scene where Spock and Kirk are having a serious conversation in the ships garden. In the first edition, at the end of the conversation Spock places a hand on Kirks shoulder, which Kirk covers with his own hand. In the second addition, all mentions of this simple contact are deleted. The differences between the two are mostly little things like this. There is no secret sex scene or love confession hidden in the first addition. You see, in my opinion, the changes made to the second edition of the book do very little to censor the romantic undertones between Kirk and Spock. That’s because they are ingrained in the plot line itself. 

One very important aspect to this book is that Kirk and Spock share a mental bond. This is something that can only happen between a Vulcan and another when they are extremely close. The mental bond that Kirk and Spock share is so strong in this book, it’s even present when they enter an alternate dimension where they are strangers to one another. There is a romance in this book between two original characters, and their relationship is constantly being paralleled by that of Kirk and Spock. And, maybe most telling, Spock refuses a female Romulan who is very interested in him over and over again simply because Kirk exists. And no, that’s not an exaggeration, here is a line from when the Romulan woman was begging Spock to be in a relationship with her: 

“I need you. The Empire needs you, what more can there be?”

“James Kirk” the Vulcan murmured without hesitation.

That line is in both versions of the book. What I’m trying to say is yes, there are K/S elements in Killing Time. There are many tender moments and lots of talk about Kirk and Spock’s devotion to each other. 

So now you’re asking yourself, Gar, why did you just say earlier that “no, the book is not gay”? Well, that’s because it’s not. This isn’t a K/S book. This isn’t a piece of Spirk fanfiction. Because for as much as this book is about Kirk and Spock’s relationship, it’s even more about Romulans (and more specifically, that one girlboss Romulan Commander from the Enterprise Incident.... bet ya didn't see that coming!) That’s right, the most controversial Star Trek book ever published is at it’s core quite plainly just a Star Trek book. There is weird alternate dimensions, time travel, espionage and lots and lots of Romulans! 

Alright, alright, what I’m really trying to get at here is that yes, if you read into Killing Time there is K/S elements. I mean for god sake the author was a known K/S fanfic writer, that wasn’t a secret by any means. If she wrote their relationship a little more tenderly than most authors would have, can we really be surprised? But writing a K/S story was not her intention here, and that’s not what this is. I think the author put it best herself, so I’m just going to put that here: 

“If people chose to see overtones of K/S in it, maybe it’s because there were overtones of K/S throughout Star Trek itself.”

People will hype up killing time as some secret confirmation that K/S is real and canon, and I really get that. Like, it would be really nice to have some canon acknowledgment of K/S, and I really don’t blame people for acting like that’s what this is. But that really isn’t what this is. And even if there was some kind of love confession, I really hate to break it to you, but the Star Trek novels are just fancy fanfiction and are not considered canon by any stretch (excluding the one Gene wrote himself, which let’s face it, perhaps has the most K/S elements of all). 

If you are looking for a nice story about Kirk and Spock being in love, then I very much urge you to look at Ao3 or similar sites. Skip this, if you want a K/S story, because that’s not what this is. Now, if you’re a huge fan of the Romulan commander from the Enterprise Incident, then my GOD you have to read this. I think this was a pretty solid Trek book. It was no piece of literary genius, but it got the job done. There was a lot of it that I think could have been left out, because it the later half it started to drag horribly, and we got a few plot threads that went absolutely nowhere. I’m not sure I’m much of a fan of alternate universes, as I really really enjoy the established dynamic of the characters, but it didn’t bother me too much. But I mean hey man, there was defiantly parts where I was so invested I couldn’t put the book down. Give this one a read if you’re looking for a pretty interesting Trek book with a little bit of cheeky K/S sprinkled here and there. 

If you have given the book a read, or just have thoughts in general, I’d love to hear them! 

[alltooreid]

All Too Well

Spencer must go to him and Y/N’s once shared apartment to clean out his things and leave her life forever. While there he can’t help but look back on his actions, the ones that made him lose the love of his life forever

A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfic ever published on here and I’m excited to share it with you all! It’s inspired by one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs All Too Well, but although I utilized some of the lyrical genius and imagery from it, the story is not the same as the story in the song. This is a very angsty fic, and there is not a happy ending. Although there are some cute fluffy elements, including a Reid’s purple scarf origin story, I would in no way call this happy. Additionally, because of a reason you may later realize, the content warnings are very vague. If anything even slightly mentioned in them may affect you, I advise you to maybe stay clear. On a lighter note, if anyone wants to request anything, whether it’s another song inspired fic or a general plot line you would like to see please do so!! Also sorry this is kinda short, I’m still learning but I’m really proud of this one :))

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Type: Very Angsty, Not a Happy Ending, (Y/N and Spencer do not end up together)

Word Count: 2.4k

Content Warnings(try to ignore if you would prefer to stay surprised): slight cursing, discussions of death and gore, discussion of car crash

Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments :) let me know what you think!

“But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well”

Spencer was packing up his things, finally getting the chance to clear out and move from the apartment he and Y/N once shared.  Their relationship was rocky and unconventional but he loved her all the same. Even though he left her broken-hearted and destroyed his most cherished relationship. Even though Y/N’s parents now hated him because of what he did to her. Even though hope of repairing what they once had was long gone and there was nothing else he could do about it. Even though he had torn up the masterpiece they once had together. He still loved her so much.

But the magic was gone and so was she. 

Now Spencer was left with memories, and since the apartment they lived in was hers instead of his, filed entirely under hers and her parents name. In his excessive knowledge and wisdom, Spencer Reid struggled to understand how the kitchen where Y/N told him she loved him for the first time as he lit the candle on the collapsing confetti cake he had attempted to bake for her birthday was in no way legally tied to him. 

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” Spencer sang as he lit the single pink birthday candle he found after rummaging through his desk drawers for longer than he cared to admit. He knew it was in there somewhere, but at the same time there was a whole lot in there. 

As he looked at her face, eyes welling up with tears as she took in the sad, homemade excuse for a birthday party Spencer had thrown together after they got back from a case hours before, he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more. He wanted to take her to New York, where they would’ve enjoyed fine dining and one of those incredibly detailed floral frosting cakes he knew Y/N was infatuated with. 

However, the case in Oregon ran long. They had only returned to their apartment 2 hours ago, hours past their 7pm dinner reservations. Although Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, you don’t need to be a profiler to know that someone wants to celebrate their own birthday. So although they had agreed to go to bed and play everything by ear tomorrow, the young genius had, what he would still argue to be, his most brilliant idea when he saw Y/N asleep once he got out of the shower.

It was still her birthday.

And Spencer had just under 2 hours to throw you a party. 

So sure, Y/N deserved more than a cake that was definitely not cool enough to frost, but was frosted anyway due to time constraints. And she definitely deserved more than present hastily wrapped in his printed out articles and newspaper clippings. Spencer wished that he had time to go buy new candles, instead of lighting a green sparkly number 7 because it was all he could find.

But it was almost midnight, and that meant he only had 18 minutes before it wasn’t Y/N’s birthday anymore.

So instead of dwelling on it, he headed to their bedroom, shook her awake and watched her roll over to face him. He watched the smile overtake her face as she said the stupid party hat he was wearing, made out of a pom pom and a wedding invitation.

“Hey birthday girl,” he said softly, “you do realize you’re sleeping through your party right?”

She looked so happy that night, even as she saw the way too messy kitchen and her birthday cake that was melting by the second. She laughed as Spencer fumbled with the lighter. 

And as he finished singing her eyes started releasing tears. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish we could’ve done more for the first birthday we get to spend together. “

“No, no, no” she said as she wiped her tears away, “It’s not that at all.”

She smiled and looked up at him “I just love you so goddamn much Spencer.”

Although at one point, all Spencer knew was logic and logically Y/N had never ever known him when she filed her paperwork, the genius still struggled to grasp the concept. That even before the ending of it all, you had no legal, definite connection to her at all. 

How was nothing about this place, his? 

  All that he knew was that he had today to pack all his shit and leave. All he knew is that Y/N’s father had made it very clear none of their family wanted to see him again. 

He wished he could talk to Y/N about it. However all of his calls went to voicemail immediately. 

Logically, Spencer knew why, he had completely fucked up. 

But still, he called every single day, as there was nothing his heart wished for more than to speak to Y/N again. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.

As the cold air from the open windows blew into the apartment, Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was leaving his home behind. Everything left of her was going to be here, and he wouldn’t get to experience any part of the life you and him had once shared together anymore.

But then he saw it. 

The royal purple scarf Y/N bought the day of their first date. 

“You like this color right?” she asked as they stopped by a booth at the street festival she had taken him to. Spencer was too distracted as he watched the other couples on dates, as they walked hand and hand down the streets. He sometimes wished he could forget things like the number of germs and bacteria that lived on her hands. He at least wished he could forget long enough to gather enough courage to hold Y/N’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk.

“Hmm?” he said, looking back at her, then the scarf she was now wearing. “Oh, yeah! I love that color, it um- looks great on you.”

She smiled, then turned to the weird old guy running the stand. “How much for the scarf?” she asked.

He looked at her, then looked at Spencer, “depends which one of you is paying.”

Before Spencer could say anything, let alone pull out his wallet, Y/N already had hers out. 

“Well, for a pretty lady like you, it’s 2 dollars,” the man said.

She handed him five and turned to Spencer. “You hear that? I’m so pretty I get 80% off! Wonder what you would’ve paid huh pretty boy? He would probably owe you money.” The man handed her her change and whispered something Spence couldn’t quite catch. 

“Gross,” Y/N said as they exited the booth, “he wrote his number on my change.”

Spencer chuckled, “Did you really just buy that scarf because I like the color of it?”

She smiled, “Don’t get so cocky now Einstein, I like purple too you know? And maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you borrow it.”

At that moment Spencer felt just okay enough to wrap his arm around Y/N’s, and she felt just right enough to wrap the new scarf around them both. 

The one she left next to her front door, after making the last minute decision to leave it at home the night of their final outing.

No one would notice if he….. Right?

Sure maybe Y/N would but what would she do about it? Hunt him down just to get a scarf she paid less than five dollars for? Definitely not. 

He wrapped it around his neck and closed his eyes, even days later he could perfectly picture Y/N singing in his car, fascinated by the autumn leaves falling around her. He felt the wind in his hair, but instead of the cold, dreary air from the open apartment window, he swore he could remember the warm air from that October night. 

“Spencer I know you hate it but please, please, please. I’m so tired.”

“Sweetheart you’re not tired, you’re drunk. Of course I have to drive you home.”

“Oh, whatever.”

A phone call broke him away from his memories, it was Hotch. Spencer was angry, how effortlessly cruel of him to call him during such an emotional time. Hotch knew how much Spencer loved Y/N, the whole team did. 

So he didn’t pick up.

Instead he walked over to the coffee table they used to put their feet on when they binged watched Doctor Who together. Letting the ringtone play out in the background, Spencer picked up an old photo album Y/N’s parents must have brought out. Of course he remembered it, it was the same one they flipped through when he met Y/N’s parents for the first time. He didn’t realize she had brought it home with her.

His eyes welled up with tears as he flipped through the old school pictures, remembering how embarrassed Y/N was of her big glasses. He saw her old athlete pictures from when she used to play tee ball, and flipped through more pictures until he reached the end of your softball career, in college. 

He remembered how hard Y/N blushed when she showed him her childhood bedroom. Her twin sized bed was full of stuffed animals and her walls covered in boy band posters. 

“You know what Spencer? I don’t want to hear it. I loved and still love the BackStreet Boys and I am not ashamed of that.”

He laughed, “You know, before we started dating I always thought you were so cool and unattainable. I imagined that you had always been this chic, beautifully brilliant badass. It’s oddly comforting to know that you wore tortoiseshell glasses and had a fruitless infatuation with Nick Carter.”

She gasped, before tossing her tabby cat stuffed toy at him, “You’re about to get it!”

Once again he was called out of the memory by his phone. 

And once again he let it ring.

Spencer went into their shared bedroom, most of his things were already put into boxes for him. Honestly he was surprised that they hadn’t been set on fire or thrown away after what he did. 

Soon it was time for him to take his things down to his car.

Except it wasn’t even his car. It was Morgan’s.

“Spencer, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am infatuated with you, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“You sure that isn’t the alcohol talking Y/N”

“Look at me Spencer, no, no really look at me.”

He couldn’t imagine ever using his old car again after what had happened in it.

“You are my future.”

Not that he could use it again.

“You are my everything.”

It was pretty much destroyed, after that accident on that little town street.

“I want nothing more in my life, than for you to be in it.”

When he was so enamored by Y/N, so in love that he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that he ran a red light.

And the truck waiting to go didn’t stop either.

“SPENCER! SPENCER CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED YOU TO CALL 911!” she screamed, her voice filled with agony, her limbs mangled in a sea of crushed mental and snapped backwards by the emergency airbag she didn’t realize she was resting her feet on.

Spencer had already called 911. That was the sickest thing about it. Spencer was, physically, perfectly fine. Spencer would get to leave the hospital after just a few days. Spencer could’ve probably gotten out of the car if he tried to. But he stayed, he stayed with Y/N, as she wasn’t fine. As Spencer looked down on her broken body, and tried desperately to find just one piece of skin that wasn’t coated in blood, her blood, that is when he realized. That not only could Y/N not walk out of the hospital with him, but she probably wouldn’t even make it there.

So he sobbed, he struggled to breathe, not because of the ways Y/N did, but because he had caused all the reasons she couldn’t.

“Hey, Spencer, look at me.”

So he did, and he reached for her hands and held them so tightly, and wanted one last time to feel her squeeze back. And she did, just ever so softly. 

“Spencer, I meant everything I said to you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. Please.”

“I love you so much Y/N”

“I love you too.”

Spencer was drawn away from his memories once again as he got another phone call. 

But it wasn’t Hotch this time. It was Mr. Y/L/N, so he answered it. He owed him that.

“Are you out of her house yet? You’ve had hours. I want you gone Spencer.”

Spencer sighed, “I’m leaving now sir, I’m just putting the last of my things in the trunk and then I’ll be gone.”

“Good, I never want to see you again Spencer, you hear me?” Mr. Y/L/N said. “And you better not have anything of hers either. All that stuff in your car better belong to you and you only. If Y/N paid for even a dime of it it better still be in that house.”

Spencer looked down at this scarf he was wearing, the one that still smelled like her perfume. The one that he couldn’t bring himself to take off because he reminded him of so much innocence and beauty.

“Yes sir, I didn’t take anything.”

“Good. And Spencer do me a favor.”

“Anything sir.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Mr. Y/L/N said, and then hung up. Spencer sighed, he expected that and fully deserved it.

How else should a father react when you kill his daughter?

“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well”

[otp-holic]

The one place (where something happened) (A03)

“In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, where something happened, and then there are all the other places.” Alice Munro. (or the one where they receive a letter from a familiar name and we go into 4Ks of fluff around a lost afternoon in France)

4K. Lamely explicit at one point. Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Trigger for FLUFF as the main plot. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

This was supposed to be a manip with 200 words of bantering and it's now 4Ks of fluff with a few pictures. I've decided to leave them inside the cut because I feel they work better with its context there. I'm sorry for the hassle, but I really hope you give this a chance... unless you have cavities, only like fics with amazing plots or are allergic to shameless fluff.

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

DAGUERROTYPE, France 1944 Private Collection.

Steve is cooling down from his very early run, enjoying the feeling of the pink sunrise looming over the awakening Brooklyn streets as he walks the last couple of blocks on the way home, when his phone beeps.

“Check your actual mailbox, we dropped something for you there. I think you should appreciate us making it old-fashioned just for you, grandpas!”

Steve smiles at Sam’s text and as soon as he arrives at their building he snaps a picture of the very common and flat envelope with “Barnes&Rogers” scribbled on top of a Stark Logo, to send along his response.

“Nice try, but this is inaccurate. A letter would have never made its way to us without an address or stamp. We’ll send you a proper thank you card to show you how it’s done.”

He can’t help but chuckle at his own joke rereading the text while he opens the door, and when he looks up from his phone and into the kitchen, he is received by a sleepy Bucky looking at the coffee machine like he looks at Steve during their most soft and embarrassingly cheesy moments.

“You love that thing more than you love me, confess it.”

“In the mornings? Yes. I don’t even like you in the mornings most of the time,” he answers matter of factly. “Want some?”

Steve playfully wiggles an eyebrow.

“No way. Your sweaty self is tempting, but coffee smells better. I might join you in the shower later.” Bucky offers him one of the two cups he has poured and he notices the envelope Steve is holding. “What is that?”

“We’ve got mail!” He hands it to Bucky. “I have no idea what's on it, but Sam texted me to say they had something delivered to our mailbox and there it was. Open it.”

Bucky leaves the cup on the counter, face sparked with a curiosity that makes him look twenty-one (and Steve weak on the knees), and goes for it.

The content is a bit underwhelming at first glance: Another envelope, white, no Stark logo, but topped with a bright green post-it with a note on Pepper’s script.

“This got to me via PR. We analyzed it and checked with the source (no peeking, I swear) and it seems legit. With that return address, it’s likely to arouse your interest. Love, P.”

Bucky tears off the post-it and the letter is revealed to be addressed to Steve Rogers at the Stark Tower, but it is when they turn it around when everything goes still for a second.

The return address is some street in Marseille, but what has Steve’s mouth dry and Bucky’s hand trembling just a bit is the combination of the place and the name written on top: Emmanuelle Jaques Dernier.

“Boom?”, Bucky says, trying to cut through their heavy hearts and taking Steve’s hand. It’s a terrible terrible joke, but Dernier would have loved it and he grins.

“That’s a terrible terrible joke,” Steve verbalizes, “but I think at least we’ve reached the same conclusion.”

“Elementary, my dear Steve,” Bucky answers as he opens the second envelope, only to reveal a folded letter and yet another envelope. “It’s a fucking vault of paper!”

Steve takes the letter from him, unfolds it, and quickly scans it (normal office paper, printed, hand-signed) before he starts reading it out loud to Bucky’s undivided attention.

“Dear Mr. Rogers,

My name is Emmanuelle Dernier and I am the great-grandson of Jaques Dernier of the Howling Commandos.

First, let me tell you that we all in our family grew up with amazing stories and praise for you, Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the team. I never got to meet my great-grandfather or any of them (you), but I’ve always felt like I did.

In fact, that’s the ultimate reason behind this letter: I ached to honor him and I’ve been putting in order all his remaining letters, pictures, and memories so they don’t get lost forever, and there are many things I’m discovering through this journey. So many pictures and tiny details… and amongst them, you and the rest of the Commandos appear at the most random and memorable moments. Nothing that’s going to make it into history books, more like the stories my grandpa used to share with us over and over again, those important tidbits that make him more human.

Anyway, I was going through the pictures he kept when I came across some war photos that didn’t seem to match the 40s timeframe. Typical daguerreotypes from the 20s in a very bad state, probably taken with a camera from the era in 1944 and developed on a later date by somebody who clearly didn’t master the technique.

They were in a very bad state and hidden inside an envelope that said “Terribly drunk soldiers in France making idiots of ourselves in unique and creative ways. Fun evening, horrible hangover. About 20 miles west of the Maginot Line. Autumn ‘44”. I’m attaching a photocopy of that, I hope you can understand my decision to keep the original.

After restoring the daguerreotypes with some experts, all I got were five very bad pictures with silhouettes of people apparently having fun…. but there was one that got a lot better in the cleaning process that feels important somehow. I’m sending the original, as well as the restored version I got.

I, of course, don’t have the whole context, but I hope it brings back a good memory. My great-grandpa might be in the picture, but I don’t think this one belongs to my family or to a museum.

Thank you for your service, I really hope this letter finds its way to you.

E.Dernier.”

“I can’t believe… Steve, most days I’m convinced that day and that place are a figment of my imagination,” Bucky smiles, remembering. “When I think of a moment of pure joy during the war, I think about that afternoon in France, and it always feels unreal. A bubble of air and laughter while we were so surrounded by death.”

Steve nods, reminiscing about that warm and humid September morning when they arrived at yet another abandoned and destroyed little village, this one about twenty miles west of the Maginot Line. They had orders to lie low and wait for twenty-four hours before they started the maneuver to wipe another Hydra base off the map, and that little town was perfect for that.

Among bomb debris and fallen walls, they found one small building miraculously standing next to the remains of the church, so they decided to set camp under a roof for a change since the weather was being a little flickery with the rain, and they had the rare luxury of time.

The inside of the tiny house was as unusual as the outside: nothing was destroyed beyond being dusty and worn by time, and everything they found (furniture, kitchenware, and even fabrics) belonged more to Steve and Bucky’s early childhoods than to 1944, a living museum frozen in time.

Only it was not a museum, but the parish house left untouched and non-raided: old-fashioned clothes, outdated church books, yellowing clergy collars, and, of course, the wine cellar. Oh, that wine cellar… the havoc it unleashed.

“I remember the absolute excitement when Falsworth found all those bottles of old unscathed mass wine from the parish,” Steve brings his memory to words, looking at Bucky, “I’m still a little convinced that we are going to hell for drinking them.”

“Not for that, probably, but it was a wonder nobody died on the spot of wine poisoning, it tasted like sweet vinegar, ugh.”

“But it did his part, right? Took our minds off things; got us drunk, bold and silly.” Steve answers.

“Apparently not all of us,” Bucky says very seriously, looking at Steve.

“Technicalities… I got drunk by proxy. Seeing you all so happy made me giddy and tipsy, too.”

“I came and went… I remember being a little surprised at the clarity of my thoughts at some moments there when some of the guys were basically drooling on the floor. Now I understand, of course.”

Steve squeezes his hand, not much to be said there.

They were already way too drunk by the early afternoon, drinking to the sound of a sudden rainstorm pouring outside. All of them scattered across the small dusty living room and its adjoining kitchen while they went through all the bottles of wine they had been able to find. Cheering for the foregone priest every time somebody raised a glass, and laughing as if there were no ruins or war on the other side; just silly men (boys, really) laughing their hearts out.

“Earth to Steve… I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see what the hell that envelope is hiding. Especially now that we know about its time stamp.”

“I’m sorry, me too! Gabe drunkenly handling that old camera and those glass plaques the way he did? I’m honestly impressed that he was able to take any pictures at all,” he muses. “Shit, is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“I’m gonna save us the bantering because I’m nervous, too,” Bucky answers in all sincerity. “Truth is, Steve, I remember everything about that day.”

It’s a new admission, a newly opened door for them because for some reason, they have never talked about that peaceful surreal afternoon, and Steve nods in recognition as he silently goes for the envelope one-handed, not wanting to let go of Bucky’s hand because his surface is way cooler than his wrenching insides. Maybe the picture is an overexposed french wall but maybe…

The photo he extracts from the envelope is clearly the original and damaged one Emmanuelle specified in his letter. Anybody else looking at it would see nothing beyond Dernier’s blurry profile, but since Steve and Bucky were there when this was taken, they know exactly what moment Steve is holding in his hand.

“Buck,…” is all Steve can say, struck by the blurry keepsake.

Later in the afternoon when they had already consumed most of the wine and there was not a single coherent thought left in the room, one of the guys took the parish books and besottedly announced that there was a wedding set for today… thirty years ago. Alcohol fueled a goofy idea that escalated at the speed of light, with Morita saying they were going to a wedding because they deserved a celebration, Dernier confessing that he had once considered becoming a priest, and Dum-dum bringing out all the old fashioned clothes from the wardrobe and deciding they were getting nice and clean for the festivities.

“That’s clearly Dernier in the picture killing it in his priest role, right?” Bucky says, half smiling and interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “You know, I went all-in with that fake wedding party. I was laughing to tears when I saw you put on that ridiculously long and ill-fitting jacket from the 10s, feeling weightless and silly for the first time since sailing off, and God knows we all deserved that. And it was all safe and light-hearted until fucking Morita decided you had to be the groom, and...”

“Were you jealous because I won the dashing groom competition?”

Steve’s attempt at a joke is weak, but there’s truth behind it: Morita chose Steve as the groom (“Cap, you are the most dashing and the least drunk”) to a chorus of excited voices cheering for him. Somebody else, most likely Dum-Dum, chose the rest of the roles (Sarge, best man duty; Jones, camera; Morita, keep the wine flowing; the rest of you, misbehave!) and in the blink of an eye, they were all going outside laughing under a light rain, and about to celebrate Steve’s fictional wedding to nobody.

“How could I be jealous?” Bucky cuts in. “Do you remember all you said to me that afternoon? During World War II and in front of a battalion of men?”

“I was drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky disentangles his hand from Steve’s to use both of them to hold Steve’s face and kiss him with violence. “Tell me. Do you remember what you said?”

As if he could ever forget. He can recall every step he took from the house to the makeshift wedding spot amidst the trees where his best man (looking dapper even in that ludicrous jacket) was laughing along Dernier. He can still smell the petrichor, can still sense the blush coloring his cheeks while hoping nobody noticed and can still hear the beating of his heart when Bucky handed him a battered umbrella (“You don’t deserve to get rained on your wedding day, punk”) and a fucking ring made out his shoelaces (“You’ll have to buy something a little more permanent.”). And then…

“Dernier started the ceremony and he wanted to know if I had somebody in mind and I said ‘of course’.” He replays, his voice barely a whisper. “I said I’d had my eyes on a brown-haired Brooklynite since before I could remember. I said that I was pretty sure those blue eyes were set on mine too and that hopefully those eyes would be set enough to want to marry me even if I had never dared to ask.”

He’s been holding Bucky’s gaze the whole time, and he’s far from over yet, but he needs to fucking breathe before he goes on. Neither of them has moved a muscle for the past minute.

“Then he asked me to repeat the wedding vows after him and…”

“And you said Buck, right?”, Bucky interrupts, voice winded. “You fucking whispered I take you, Buck, as my lawful wedded husband till the end of the line. I heard, Steve. Even if the rest of the world didn’t, I did. But you never said anything, so I always deemed it impossible, a product of the corniest nook of my mind trying to outweigh all those bad things, because not even you could be as bold, reckless, and mushy as to do that,…it’s my fucking fault, I should have known better!”

“Not completely reckless, pal. I was scared shitless as I said those words, but what else could I do? You were right by my side about to put a ring on my finger as my “best man”, everyone, including you, supposedly drunk past recollection, and everybody else too far away to hear my whispers. It was such an easy choice in the end because truth should always win over fear. And those vows were. The truth.”

“You have always been too honest for your own good, Rogers,” Bucky is breathless and exasperated and goes for his mouth again, bringing in all he (they) couldn’t in 1944. “You destroyed me, Steve. My knees were as weak as a teenager’s in front of his first crush. I wanted to kiss you so badly when I heard you say all that there in the open… and I couldn’t even acknowledge it.”

“I know. And for what it's worth, I really thought you didn’t remember.”

It is too much. Is it normal to feel this much? Steve would blame it on the serum enhancements, but he was already overwhelmed at 16, so that’s clearly not the answer.

He craves, no, he needs touching, grounding, closer. Bucky. There’s too much space between them even if they are back to kissing like they would have that day in 44, and at any other time if their own lives wouldn’t have stolen those moments from them.

“It happened.” Bucky whimpers, biting on Steve’s lip who abandons his own stool to straddle him, both of them gasping in sync at the feeling of their cocks, hard against each other’s through their soft pants.

Bucky soon ups the stakes by carding his metal hand through Steve’s hair pulling his head backwards to help himself into that spot on his neck.

“Same two moles as when you were tiny, as when we were at that war... Your cute vampire bite. Favorite spot.” He licks on them with the tip of his tongue. Steve growls on cue and Bucky giggles. “Favorite chain reaction.”

“Buck, you cheater, you know what that does to me!” Steve cries out followed by Bucky’s evil chuckle.”Bed, couch, countertop,…I don’t care, but naked. Now. Stained pants due to heavy petting are too much of a trip down memory lane for me. Let me keep a bit of my dignity.”

Steve stands up liberating Bucky from his grip but aching at the loss of contact.

They are naked and making out in the middle of the kitchen in no time; Bucky steadily pushing him against the refrigerator while fiercely grinding against his crotch.

“Hey, ‘teve,” Bucky pants. “The way this is going, it’s my dignity now that's at risk. I don’t think I can make it further than the floor before I come.”

Steve groans into his mouth just at the thought and they start sliding to the floor the best they can until he’s a human blanket moving over Bucky. With no lube at hand, and no time, that’s their best option.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, his hands not leaving Bucky’s sweaty hair. Bucky’s hands on his ass, forcing their groins closer with one while he (almost absently) plays around his hole with the other, driving Steve crazy in the process. Dicks left to do their own thing through pressure and friction. Everything is working. And fast.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky exclaims “Can you promise me all this stuff with the letter was real and not a long-con plan to assure your fragile masculinity that I love you more than I love that espresso machine?”

That. That silly unfunny excuse of a joke that screams Bucky all over is what pushes Steve all the way over the edge. He fucking laughs as he comes making absolutely embarrassing sounds, pressing their foreheads and noses together until it hurts, and shaking from head to toe without stoping his pressure on the stupid and smug man under him. His lover. His partner. His unofficial husband. His best friend.

His Buck.

“There’s still too much blood in your brain if you can play that dirty,” Steve states, placing one hand between them grabbing Bucky’s hard cock. “Let’s see if I can do anything about it.”

“Your hand, usually so helpful, but I was already following you after that sound you make when you come and laugh at the same time, shit, it always goes straight to my dick, I’m,…” he keeps talking with difficulty between breaths and moans until he leaves his speech unfinished coming all over Steve’s fist.

They kiss on the lips breathing into each other before Steve rolls over. They are sticky and panting in silence, spread on their kitchen’s floor, Steve’s shoulders crushed between Bucky’s and the dishwasher. Domestic bliss at its most literal.

One lavish fuck and two showers later they reemerge into the kitchen in search of something to eat: Bucky is in charge of the food today, while Steve cleans the mess they left a couple of hours ago.

He’s decluttering the counter when their damaged picture laying there puts a smile on his face but also reminds him of the restored version presumably still waiting inside the disregarded letter, so he grabs the envelope to retrieve its contents: one photocopy (from Dernier’s original writing), and the promised photo.

And it is restored. Everything is clear where it was blurry before: Dernier (so deep into his priest impersonation that he’s not even looking at them), the trees, the battered umbrella, the ridiculous jackets… and them.

“You had the nerve to call me reckless and mushy, Buck?” Steve laughs as he stares at the picture where a very young Bucky is about to put a ring on his finger with the least subtle lovestruck expression he’s ever seen (“and it’s for you”, his brain proudly reminds him) “Wow, you might as well be kissing me there, anything would be more subtle than this!”

“Don’t shame me, you punk, especially not when you were the one responsible for breaking my brain back then!” Bucky answers coming from behind and stealing the picture from his hands to scrutinize it. Goofy grin and raging blush quickly taking over his face. “But you’re one to talk, Cap. You are gazing at that shoelace’s ring as if I were handing you a diamond tiara!”

Steve laughs softly at that and moves his right hand to his pocket, feeling the weight of the little compass he had retrieved earlier from one of his drawers. He used to carry it with him everywhere for comfort, but he has a better option now.

“Didn't you know that shoelaces are forever?” He asks, taking the compass out of his pocket and holding it in both hands as he opens it, nudging Bucky with his elbow to get his attention.

Bucky is confused for an instant while he looks at his young face staring at them from inside the little box. Of course he knew that (he made fun of Steve for days and days) but Steve detects the change in his expression when he notices the other thing.

“Wow, you gigantic sap,” Bucky says, taking the compass out of his hands to double-check he is seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. “You saved my shoelace.”

He had. While they were all celebrating his wedding under the rain dancing to no music, he quietly slipped the little string off his finger and tied it to the most secure place he had back then.

“It’s not a shoelace, you jerk, it’s a symbol. A declaration.” He laughs, stealing the compass back to safely pocket it again.

“You are delusional,” Bucky snorts, kissing the top of his head. But he’s widely smiling and lost in thought as he goes back to their sandwiches.

Steve stays on the spot enjoying the peace in their silent companionship, his focus on the latest news showing up on his phone, the text he’s writing to Sam and the comforting sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen.

“You might have married me, but I never actually married you.” Bucky blurts out of the blue a bit later, sitting by his side as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and some grilled greens on it. “Do you want mayo with that?”

“Uh?” Steve forgets all about the news and the text and looks at Bucky in confusion.

“Mayo, do you want some?” Bucky repeats nonchalantly.

“No mayo, thank you; but I was actually more interested in the other part, you know, that thing about marriage?”

Bucky looks him in the eye: earnest, blushing and with the same look of smug adoration he had on the picture.

“Oh, that part.” He jokes. “You apparently married me in 1944, but I never married you back. And I would like to.”

“Marry me?” Steve asks and Bucky visibly nods.

“I’m sorry for throwing the idea at you like this, books tell me I'm supposed to have candles, music, and a ring, but you showed me that restored picture and I couldn't stop thinking about it, about proof,” Bucky speaks uncharacteristically slow and very softly, voice trembling here and there while he claps his hand with Steve’s finger by finger for reassurance and as a distraction. “A single photo had the power to transform a moment that existed just as a made-up happy place inside my mind into something tangible and real. Something that would be tangible and real for anybody getting a hold on it and looking at our stupid faces.”

“So stealthy,” Steve says, and they both laugh together.

“Proof, Steve. I was slicing tomatoes and thinking how there’s so much evidence, thousands of files! out there proving that all the stuff that fuels my nightmares were real, but nothing solid about this. Us.” Bucky stops for a moment collecting his thoughts, still smiling even with the heavy subject he just dropped into the mix. “Sorry, I believe I put more time into these sandwiches than into thinking this all the way through so I’m…”

“Take your time, we’ve gone from mayo to marriage to nightmares in five minutes so don’t worry, you have me hooked here.”

Steve makes Bucky laugh again as he intended, and he feels their calloused laced fingers immediately squeezing closer.

“It’s stupid because it doesn’t change anything for us but,.. I don’t fucking know, Steve, I think that picture has messed up with my mind! I instantly found comfort in the idea of people finding facts beyond the nightmares now or in the future. An easy to understand, universal and oversimplified proof of how much I loved you and how much I was loved in return.” Bucky takes a breath and stares at him sporting a million-watt smile. “Marrying you,… I would really love that. And for real this time.”

“Ok, Buck.” Steve instantly replies, eagerness winning over thoughtful and heartfelt declarations. He tightens the grip on their joined hands to drive them to his lips and seals the easiest answer he’s ever had to give.

And it's done!Sorry for the cavities, for going on with the fic when it should have ended and for ending it where it might have had to keep going. It was painful and fun. I'm free!

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Cruella

Executive 1 at Disney: Alright, pitch meeting, guys, c’mon let’s throw out some ideas. What do we got?

Executive 2 at Disney: We’ve been getting some feedback that people want more original stories. So picture this - London, early 70s. An orphan rises up in the fashion world from the bottom and she’s got this great counterculture punk kinda thing going on, but get this - her mentor steals her ideas. So she gets revenge by creating this kind of alter eg/ larger-than-life persona and doing these pop-up street art photo op moments, making the mentor look old and out of touch. So she’s got this double life thing going on, there’s some great fashion, kind of a found family vibe, until she overthrows the mentor and gets to live the rest of her days as a successful designer. 

E1: Wow. I mean....that sounds so weird, Bob. Are you high? Do you even understand what Disney is about? C’mon guys, new ideas, fresh ideas, gimme something.

Executive 3 at Disney: What about some IP we already own? 

E1: NOW WE’RE TALKING. What did you have in mind?

E3: Well you know 101 Dalmatians?

E1: Of course! A spinoff about the next generation of puppies! Kids love talking dogs, we’ll be printing money.

E3: No, not puppies, even better - what about the woman who wants to brutally murder the puppies and make clothes out of them ? Like, what’s her story?

E2: Um, isn’t she just like...a terrible person? Her main personality trait is hating dogs and wanting to literally sew their skins into coats? Her name is a play on the words “cruel” and “devil”?

E3: That’s the one.

E1: Eh, here’s $200 million - figure it out, you two! *gives noogies and walks away*

I don’t think this is a controversial opinion: this movie is fucking weird. To be fair, most things that shouldn’t exist are pretty laughably weird and upsetting - like if I said to you, “Hey do you want a phoenix Frappucino?” or “Hello, and welcome to my feather murder palace,” or “There are 2,755 billionaires in the world” you’d be like, “Take a nap, you’re talking nonsense ya rascal!” (In this scenario, we’re friends and I’m frequently rascally). Is Cruella bad? No, not really. It’s a fun story with great visuals and performances from 2 women who are absolutely chewing up every centimeter of scenery they can. Is Cruella good? Not at all if you’re trying to fit it into any framework you have of the character it’s based on. 

Things that I liked:

SO many good dogs! Good dogs are everywhere. There are even Very Good Dog Characters, who have names and participate in heists and wear eyepatches. 100/10 for good dog action.

The soundtrack is absolutely bangin’ - a ton of excellent 60s and 70s grooves, with a healthy punk streak. 

Disney has more money than God so like...the production design as a whole is fantastic. The costumes are beyond fantastic. If you’ve ever been to Disneyland or DisneyWorld and had the thought “Wow, this place really is magical” because of how perfectly thought-out everything looks down to the tiniest detail - that’s what this movie is with its fashion. You’re watching magic happen on the screen through the clothes.

Unlike most of Disney’s live-action remakes or reboots or revisits of a villain’s backstory, this one isn’t composed of at least 75% CGI, so the story by extension feels significantly more real and tangible. Always a good thing for character studies.

How can you not love the Emmas, you know? Emma Stone loves playing the role of Cruella and her fun is our fun, even when the script makes some...questionable choices, including a terrible voiceover framing device. And Queen of all Eternity Emma Thompson as the Baroness is channeling Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada without the feigned boredom. She’s more hands-on, nastier, wrapped in Old Hollywood glamour. If Miranda Priestly is an icicle that will stab you while you freeze you to death, The Baroness is a sheet of volcanic glass that will tear you to shreds if you touch it. 

Things that I didn’t like:

The woobification of a puppy murderer, I can’t stress this enough. 

The fact that Cruella actually likes dogs. Like, even Dalmatians. She has no problem with them, and in fact, there are two dogs that are like her childhood best friends that she ran schemes with. Even the Dalmatians she should, by all accounts, hate viciously, she hangs out with and gives a loving home to. 

The absolutely BATSHIT way they try to set up a possible continuation into the 101 Dalmatians story. 

The extra 45 min of runtime that were wildly unnecessary.

THEY COMPLETELY WASTED MARK STRONG. 

I’m honestly the most angry at the fact that I’m mad this version of Cruella doesn’t want to murder puppies. Why are you making me angry at someone who is anti-puppy-murder? What have you turned me into, Disney???

Of the live-action remakes/reboots/reimaginings, this one is probably the one I enjoyed watching the most. I like that it’s an original story (even if it’s cookoo bananapants) and it sure is pretty to look at, in large part because it lacks most of the freakish uncanny valley animals that these Disney live-action movies so heavily rely on. Give it a spin, darling, and see how it feels - just forget everything you know about Cruella DeVil ahead of time and you’ll be golden. 

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

[aceofspadegrass]

niragi bullying kids but i think the kids should start bullying back

Bully The Angry Licorice They Said. It’ll Be Fine They Said

Characters: Last Boss, Niragi Suguru, Cabot

Genre: Just some funky bullying. And a little murder. 

1.7k words

Niragi really do be bullying children. Even if the children are kind of dickheads in return.

As you see, I am bad at bullying. What I am good at is just calling the other person very dramatic names.

Also Last Boss is just watching the entire thing.

Sorry it's a little bad.

—————————————————————————————————

If there was anything Last Boss preferred to do other than follow Niragi around, it was just sit in his room alone with Cabot, but sadly that wasn’t an option. Niragi didn’t let him sit in his room, poking him awake with his own cat and then dragging him outside for reasons the other hasn’t even told him yet.

Cabot meows quietly in his ear, paws resting on his shoulder as she perched there, watching the world pass by her. Last Boss feels her nuzzle the side of his head, tickling his ear, Last Boss gently reaching up and scratching her where she liked it. She purrs happily, and Last Boss goes back to focusing his attention on Niragi, who saunters down the halls, gun at his side as always. He doesn’t bother to ask Niragi where they were even going, or why exactly he needed him there. Niragi was weird and usually had his own plans that he acts out of a simple impulsive whim, and sometimes Last Boss was simply dragged into it. Maybe because Niragi kind of thought his presence was intimidating and cool.

Or maybe he was just lonely and Last Boss was the only person willing to be in the same room and not judge him for trying to peel a banana with a coin.

They both end up outside, Last Boss slowly blinking as Niragi walks to one of the cars, glancing back at Last Boss and jerking his head towards it, that cocky smile on his face. “ Well? Come on, we don’t have all day.” Niragi called out to Last Boss, who shuffles over. “ Technically, we do…..” He says, low and quiet enough that Niragi would’ve never heard him as he makes it to the car, opening the passenger door. Niragi was already inside and turning it on, Last Boss slipping inside and shutting the door. He snaps on the seatbelt, Cabot comfortably tucked inside Last Boss’ hood and kneading close to the nape of his neck, where the fabric was.

Niragi drives off, not even wearing his own belt, and Last Boss braces his feet against the bottom part of the car as Niragi races down the empty streets with reckless abandon, the vehicle swerving this way and that. Last Boss had to keep his head down to even process it, the outside making him a little dizzy from how violently Niragi was going. Cabot was at least keeping him stable, her constant kneading against his neck familiar and slow.

He doesn’t know where they where even going until Niragi shuts off the car, Last Boss finally looking up and around him. It seemed to be a simple shopping district, Niragi already walking away without him. Last Boss stays put and watches Niragi, silently testing how far he’d go before realizing (or simply just remembering) that he was there too.

Cabot meows, wriggling herself out and landing on his lap, Last Boss looking down at her. She stretches, and proceeds to also make biscuits on his leg before staring up directly at him.

“…. He’ll come back sooner or later, so ….” He tells Cabot, and as if even mentioning his existence summons the demon himself, there was a loud knock at the window, Cabot scrambling off into the back of the car. Last Boss looks up, staring directly at Niragi in silence, face blank. He didn’t appreciate him scaring Cabot, Niragi just staring back. 

“ Come on! I didn’t kidnap you to be lazy and sit there! Come on! I want to walk around!” Niragi knocks on the window again, and Last Boss opens the door, if only to stop him from pounding so impatiently. Niragi backs away to let Last Boss exit, the taller of the two waiting until Cabot hops out and rubs against the duo’s legs in content. Last Boss bends down and pets her, Niragi just staying where he was for a few seconds. He leaves when Cabot focused her primary attention on her owner, strolling off. Last Boss follows him silently, Cabot keeping pace with him. 

Niragi wasn’t lying when he said he wanted to walk around, quite literally going inside buildings and straight back out, looking at random trinkets that each shop housed. Last Boss stayed outside most of the time, only coming in when Niragi calls him in to show him something that caught his attention, only to leave it there and wander off somewhere else. Nothing went into Niragi’s possession as far as Last Boss was aware, always set down where it was originally. At one point it almost looked like Niragi would take an old handheld console, but all he did was suddenly ramble on about how long it took for him to beat Sonic before putting it down and walking away.

He looks down at Cabot, who was pawing at a stray dust ball. “ He’s happy about things other than violence. He has a brain, isn’t that nice.” He mumbles, out of Niragi’s hearing range, Cabot batting the dust ball away and chasing after it. 

There was a shout deeper in the store, and Last Boss goes to investigate, although at his own pace. Niragi could handle himself, he was sure, so he didn’t feel the need to hurry.

“ What the fuck!? Who the fuck are you!” It was a younger voice, Last Boss slowly blinking as he makes it to where the shout came from. Niragi was standing there, door open, Last Boss peeking in. There, all in the corner surrounded by blankets, pillows, and old thrown away cans, were a bunch of kids, perhaps no older than 14 at best. One of them was aiming a baseball bat in their direction, Niragi scoffing and leaning his weight to the left. “ I should be asking you that question. What are you all doing back here, eh? This place is shit.” Niragi smirks, Last Boss watching the interaction in the background.

“ So? Not like what you had is much better, old man!” “ Wh- Old man?! I’ll have you know that I’m fucking youthful as hell! You look like fucking babies!” Niragi growls, the lead kid smirking and turning the bat in their hand, the light in the room illuminating the dark splotches upon the wood. “ At least we’re decades more spry than you! You may look good, but I bet that your old man bones are gonna fail you!” “ I take care of myself, excuse you! I’ll fucking shoot you right here, don’t think I won’t!” Niragi points his gun at the children with a snarl, a few of the children hiding behind whatever they could. Last Boss didn’t know what to make of any of this, but the determination and bravery on the baseball bat wielding kid was impressive, the kid laughing in the face of death.

“ Oh, too much of a pussy to take a few words? You look like you buy your clothes off the bargain rack! No, even better! You stole them from the thrift store!” Niragi only got more angry it seemed, and as a warning shot a few bullets into the ground, a few yelps coming through from the other end. Last Boss blinks, and looks to Niragi for a second. He seemed infuriated by the kid, and likely wasn’t about to take any of it sitting down.

“ You think you’re so tough, but I’ll show you! I’ll show all of you! You’re just kids, and I’m an adult with a gun!” The other kid snorts. “ Yeah, surrrreeeee…… Bet you think you’re tough too! You look like you try too hard.I mean, look at that face! Piercings all on one side? You look like you have silver moles! They look stupid on you!” The kid retorts with a smug grin, and Niragi huffs.

“ And you look like a generic background character that doesn’t even get a name! Who the fuck made that face? Oh man, your mom probably looked like a hag!” Niragi cackles at his own statement, Last Boss slowly blinking as Niragi looks back at him with a satisfied smirk. “ At least I have a mom! You look like yours went and taught you how to be a badly printed pool!” Niragi rolls his eyes at the kid. “ At least it didn’t print little volcanos on my face! Unlike someone.” The leader glaring at him.

“ That’s just how I look! I’ll get super sexy and all the girls and boys will adore me! You’ll look like a wrinkled pocket receipt , ready to decompose and die Niragi rolls his eyes, and he shoots again, closer. “ You say one more thing and I’ll blow you like a piñata.” The kid grins, and his stupid mouth begins to open,” So in other words, you would blow me? Ewwwww! The weird bag of Adderall and crack is gonna get us! I’m sooooo scared~” He smugly and sarcastically replies, a few other kids joining in a little in laughing.

“ He looks like a discarded charcoal grill!” “ Probably smells like overflowing garbage-“ “ Hey! Do you think he even has a brain in there? Probably filled with tapioca pudding! Ooh, or just black beans!” There was a faint click, and Last Boss doesn’t even have time to react properly then Niragi let bullets fly from his beloved gun.

He sighs once the other end were nothing more than flesh, and turns to Last Boss, grinning. “ I’m gonna head to the other store.” He rolls his eyes, resting his gun back on his shoulder as he leaves. “ They really think they could get away with calling me names?” Niragi grumbles on his way out, and Last Boss merely blinks, not even looking back. Cabot comes around on his way out, demanding pats. Last Boss kneels down and runs his hand from back all the way to her tail, Cabot purring. “ He smells more like a sad sandcastle, actually.” Last Boss mutters, and Cabot meows in agreement, the cat climbing him like a short child using a countertop to reach her favourite cereal on the shelf. He stands up and shuffles his way back near Niragi’s side, not at all ready to deal with his angry grumbling for the next half hour.

[thirsthourdemon]

Headcanon on their online platforms but mainly on Twitch, onlyfans stuff, patreon, tumblr

Includes: Demon bros + undateablesss

Genre: Crack, Fluff and slight smut

Warnings: NSFW mentions

||Lucifer

-He didn’t have a big online presence because he was active, no no

-He had an online presence cause everyone always sees him on Diavolo s pictures and such so for a time they shared an audience

-One time Diavolo and Barbatos were doing a thing where they read a book aloud for some sort of game

-Diavolo kind of recorded that for a little bit

-ASMR I TELL YOU

-People liked it so much they suggested for “the one with the deep cold voice”, luci, to do asmr on youtube or something

-He doesn’t know what an Onlyfans is however he does have a patreon.

-Diavolo was interested in the idea and discussed it with him

-HE BLEW UP CAUSE EVERYONE WAS FREAKING OUT OVER HOW AMAZING HIS VOICE WAS OF COURSE! 😡

-His fandom consists of either people who are interested in what he reads or...Horny people who get off at how proper and low his voice is

-His profile picture is a picture of him with his head cropped out where he’s fixing his gloves

-Luci isnt like super famous but he has a loyal fanbase that appreciates him a lot also lots of simps with daddy issues

-He was confused as to why someone would ask him to be their father

-He gets the daddy kink but why???

-Last post: A picture MC took where he’s holding a whip cause mammon fucked something up 🙂

||Mammon

-Bold of us to assume he didn’t already have one

-You already know why he’s on here.

-He has random content but he mainly got his audience since he kind of tried modeling thing for a while. It was for a big brand on their new jock type jackets

-Mammon really wanted cash at that time and he got the thing over and done with making him a couple more grims richer

-The photographers told him they could transfer the pictures though! So he just saved his pictures because “Who wouldn’t want a picture of THE mammon?”

-That gave him the idea

-His audience? Whoreknee

-They even accept the fact that his captions for some pictures are “You should be honored you get pictures of me”

-He posts that with a blushing face half of the time HAHAHAHA

-Levi found it and just laughed at the pictures

-Surprisingly enough the pictures were actually well taken because MC was forced into em

-His most popular picture was the one with him was actually a picture that the brothers took of him tucking in what appeared to be goldie on a seperate MINI BED WITH A SMALL TOY LAMP BESIDE IT

-He did a QnA for his followers to celebrate on his instagram

-PFFTT He got so many questions about Goldie

-Was dubbed “Goldie’s Daddy” after that

-Last post: A picture of him wearing the new Luxury brand jacket he got and his keys in front of his car with the caption “Daddy’s going for a ride”

||Leviathan

-I’ve always head canon that Levi knows how to draw digital emotes. Like he just picked it up cause he wanted to make fanart of him in henry together 😔

-Also has a red bubble or an etsy where he sells some prints and stickers of fanart 👀

-He went on twitch since there were so many TSL streamers there who just played games while they discussed theories as well

-Levi is an emote artist and while he draws he sometimes just discusses the theories with his fellow Yucky Otakus

-He’s the type to really interact with everyone even though he barely does that in real life

-Sometimes though when he gets packages that fans sent or ones that he ordered he’d stream unboxing them.

-He hates showing his face? Oh dont worry He’s wearing a facemask and all that

-His fandom is genuinely into him. Like they actually like him as a person but kinda once got into a scandal on gatekeeping

-He took a break for a bit but he kind of said sorry and everyone just forgave him because he isn’t really the type to do drama and it was just that one instance-

-Overall loved by the community due to how chill he is and how invested he is on fan theories

-He has a twitter btw and lemme tell you it’s just threads and threads of discussions

-Whenever he does stream unboxing videos though and he shows his shelves everyone freaks out how he has EVERY FUCKING VOLUME OF EVERY ANIME AND GAME

-People sometimes ask him personal questions and he tries his best to try to answer them but he shows a face where he looks uncomfy

-Everyone just bullies anyone who makes him uncomfy giving his fanbase a very protective reputation

-Last post: “Unboxing fanmail L8er @ 10pm LOL CYA GUYS XD”

||Satan

-He has a tumblr. You cant tell me he doesn’t have one.

-He had tumblr like back in the old day though like when porn was still available here.

-Get this...He’s known all through out the academia blogs. He INVENTED Academia

-Satan has 1 blog and that’s it. It’s his main blog and he just posts pictures of the book cover and does essays, reviews or sometimes he writes the ending he wanted to happen.

-Dont get me wrong he has a patreon but only because people loved getting more exclusive takes of stuff like his book notes on certain pages or sometimes his notes and thoughts on Artistic Erotica

-Probably has a Ko-Fi because he though he needed it after most of the blogs he followed had it

-He thinks it should be “Table of Content” and not “Masterlist” so he uses just that

-Profile picture is him wearing his signature washed out green grandma sweater while he has a book in hand and a cup of earl grey on his table

-People go to him falling in love with his aesthetic and Book reviews but they stay in love with him because he is big on one on one discussions actually

-He goes for one on one voice calls where he just...He talks to you about any book of your choosing

-Fans send him tea but he knows better than to eat something a stranger gives so he makes beel take a taste first sometimes but ultimately scolds the boy when he takes too much

-He wasn’t supposed to have merch but everyone liked the idea of small packages (More like letters) that really do look old and vintage

-He usually only give those to the people who pay for the top tier stuff

-It usually contains 1 type of tea, a letter he wrote for them himself and a bookmark with his name stamped on it

-He got the stamp custom made ❤️

-Last post: (Insert 5k word essay)

This is what I thought of Edgar Allan Poe’s “A cask of Amatillado”

Playlist: (Insert soft classic Music playlist on Spotify)

Tea: Black Currant

||Asmodeus

-ONLY FANS THROUGH AND THROUGH

-Is a brand influencer as well

-The brand ambassador of this pretty well known semi-luxury skin care brand

-His devilgram? Perfectly made by his PR team which is just him and solomon

-Before I move onto the NSFW stuff I want to emphasize how Beautiful his instagram is and his aesthetic

-His aesthetic is romantic/sexual tension/Unparalleled beauty

-Also a make up brand influencer and has his own make up line

-something along the lines of “The Devil’s box of charms 🖤”

-The type to DG live whenever he’s just showing off the make up look he did or the outfit he got

-The house of lamentation may have PR packages stacking up due to how most of them have an online influence but out of 10 boxes 7 of them would be for Asmo

-OKAY NOW ONTO NSFW STUFF

-Lemme tell you this...He has a specific drawer and space in his closet just for the sexy outfits he has.

-The demon’s onlyfans has pictures of him just teasing his audience where he’s wearing a black skintight get up and his bulge is showing

-Nudes are for mid and top tiers

-His fandom loves seeing in stocking and chokers

-“The choker is from etsy and here’s the link to their shop~”

-He doesnt completely show his body but...Him in suggestive clothing gets everyone pre cumming

-His fandom is just filled with simps 😔

-He loves them and blows a kiss towards the camera everytime he ends a live

-Probably has had a scandal or 4

-Posted an Ahegao once and everyone lost it

-Has been the face for Ahegaos ever since

-Belle delphine who?

-Definitely tik tok famous too 😎

-Has memorized all of Doja Cat’s songs

-Last post: “Hope you guys are ready for tonight’s session~ 😈” With a picture of him in an Fuchsia and black themed lingerie set. A collar with a bell on it.

-Bonus: One time Solomon summoned him while he was taking pictures and he was still in his lingerie set. 😛

||Beelzebub

-Was originally inspired by Mukbangs Channels so he did them on youtube too

-You get his Mukbangs on your recommended, You subscribe because of his cute and funny reactions whenever someone in the backgrounds is astounded to how much he’s eating

-Everyone knew beel as a cute guy who just does Mukbangs and loves to eat

-He once did a fridge raid and ended up eating everything in the fridge

-That was THE MOST CHAOTIC VIDEO on his channel cause you can just see luci and MC trying to make him stop

-He eventually got a patreon because mammon told him people will give him more money for food like that and to be honest he made a patreon but mammon takes care of it from time to time

-Oh you knew him as this sweet beautiful boy who just likes eating? hERe HavE sOmE WorKOUt pICs

-His body got everyone thirsty or may I say Starving

-S I M P S everywhere

-His patreon content is just him making small videos eating or pictures of him being all sweaty from the gym 😛💦

-“DADDY BWDONMXMSKC PLEASE FEED US”

-“Eh? You should feed me instead” *opens his mouth*

-Fans send him lots of boxes of weird food to see his reaction sometimes

-Did the fire noodle challenge a bit late but everyone is surprised to how he isn’t giving the reaction like they expected him

-Spice tolerance? Unmatched

-His fandom is either “UwU Beel please eat try this!” Or “Daddy Please FEED US WITH YOUR DELICIOUS THIGHS! 😩🥵💦💦💦”

-He does the service where he sends you his body building pictures except he isn’t sending them, Mammon is.

-Manager Mammon 😎 Gets a half of the profit

-Can I just...BeelProbablyHasnevergottenintoanyscandalbuthasalotofhaterssayingthefansonlylikehimforhishandsomefaceandgreatbodyandnicevoicebutlikewhatiswrongwithlikinghimbecauseofthosethings?Itisntbadtolikethatstuffatall

-Last post: “🍙 Thank you to @(Your Username) for the Onigiri! I finished the whole batch! Please send more food”

||Belphegor

-Sleep Guru

-Im sorry but I cant see him having any other social media aside from tumblr, twitter and Devilgram

-Belphie barely checks his phone but he has tumblr because apparently there’s a thing called the SandMan’s Box Community

-It’s like LootCrate, a subscription service that gives you stuff like Comfy Pillow sheets and tea for better sleeping

-This even gives you something like sleeping masks or ear muffs.

-The community is well...nocturnal

-His ask box is always full of his 100+ mutuals who just discuss stuff with him

-Whenever he actually does try to type online he makes articles about the best sleep positions or stuff like that

-His fandom is just loving mutuals who sleep and take care of each other

-They have a discord server where it just plays soft music to help everyone sleep

-Last post: “Humans aren’t so bad when they’re asleep”

||Luke and Simeon

-He has a big following on twitch where he just bakes sweets in his cute little hat and-

-Clearly you can tell I follow him on twitch

-The type of twitch streamer that no one hates on because why would you? He is literally just baking and cute comments

-Sometimes he streams with Simeon and everyone loves both of them

-When people give money they dont give “money” no no...they call donating headpats

-Luke is just so adorable that everyone just...

-“Angel Lulu’s Protection Squad⭐️”

-He got famous when he...He doesnt want to call it a collab but He made a lot of sweets and gave them to beel so everyone freaked out and thought

-THE SWEET BOY THAT EATS A LOT AND THE ANGELIC CHILD THAT MAKES SWEETS A LOT ARE FRIENDS?!

-He is now pissed that everyone thinks they’re friends 😠

-Basically his fans started making dishes and candy inspired by him

-Sometimes they send it in and Simeon has to confiscate some because

-“Im sorry, guys. You are all really sweet and I know that you mean well but Luke isn’t allowed much sweets yet”

-No one ever EVER lewds luke

-Fortunately Luke’s fandom has the least amount of pedophiles because everyone drives them away the moment they try something

-Whenever luke does fan mail/unboxing videos people just adore how Simeon places a glass of water at the table below the camera and the scissors or cutter he uses is child proof

-Even though Luke is the main person on his account everyone also notices Simeon.

-How couldn’t they? He looked like he wanted to make everyone in the audience live a better life

-Add that with luke’s wholesome baking and BOOM! You are now ready for a better life🌟

-Last post: It’s a picture of Luke shyly showing of his new batch of sun and moon shaped sugar cookies. “Sun and Moon. Tune in later at 3 pm to see how we made these!”

||Solomon

-He barely posts but he helps asmodeus with his stuff

-Too busy with anything else but helps out when things get interesting

-Proposes Ideas for Asmo sometimes when the demon doesn’t know what to wear for a live or a story

-Laughs at Asmo sometimes when he gets into scandals and drama

-Happy cameraman ❤️

-People follow him because 1.) He’s hot 2.) The fans ship him with Asmodeus

-Last Post: “When will you learn 🙂”

||Diavolo

-He is a vlogger~ Not a very active vlogger but a vlogger nonetheless

-He films anything he can but he’s more known on tik tok and devilgram rather than twitch or youtube

-People have been thirsting for him ever since and no one can convince me that they dont just shamelessly call him daddy whenever he goes on live

-Barbatos makes sure however that whenever it isnt appropriate anymore that he would tell diavolo to turn the camera off

-Wranggled Luci into his mess and now everyone knows the face of that one dude who just reads documents

-Everyone lowkey ships them

-Diavolo is the type to take a picture of a big meeting or a retreat out of instinct to just document his life

-He actually didnt know about vloggers before but he just liked the thought of documenting it

-Everyone picks up “Master” vibes as they say from him hehehe

-He doesnt have an Onlyfans or patreon 😔😔😔

-I honestly would have subscribed to his services

-Last post: “Barbatos made a delicious meal for us at the retreat today” Along with a picture of the Beautiful Demon Delicacy Spread in the table.

Taglist: No one yet (Please be part of the taglist for more content like this ☹️ It’s getting really discouraging)

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH.12

It's late Friday night or very early Saturday morning depending on how you want to look at it. You're just laying on your couch playing Stardew Valley when your phone goes off. Without looking you answer it.

“Why are you even up?” comes Kirby's exhausted voice from across the line.

“Medical condition, wbu?” you place the phone in between you ear and shoulder but don't really change your position as you continue with your game.

“Jesus fucking Christ you did not just pronounce 'wbu' like 'wah-bah-u'.” he's ranting a bit and you know from experience this is the tired slap happy ranting where he sets himself off every five minutes on new topics. So, you wait it out and continue your quest in learning the wizard's secrets.

Kirby finally calms down after a few moments to get to the point of why he called. To remind you that Saturday Night Dead was canceled tonight due to the Pride Picnic tomorrow.

“I know.” you said plainly barely paying attention to the ginger on the line.

“You're a little shit.”

“I know that too.” a smirk graces your lips and you pause your game.

You listen to Kirby's rant for three minutes before asking if anyone else still “needed” a reminder. And when he said 'no' you sent him off to bed and said you'd see him Sunday morning. With a cranky man toddler dealt with you went back to your game.

Contrary to what you had originally thought, this week had been pretty chill. Everything had been going great, no drama in the town, no set backs with the picnic, your stalker had been keeping a low profile, and sure you were on day three of no sleep but that's just a you issue really. You didn't even have a foreboding feeling about the picnic. Everything was going great...at least it would be had Jo not   specifically requested you wear something red, to her recital in a few weeks.

It's going to be so hard to thrift something school appropriate, red, and in your size. You thankfully have three weeks but unfortunately you're limited to weekend trips since you work during the week and wouldn't be able to go a few hours out to larger thrift stores to drive a few hours back home.

Your do nothing day is turning into a do something day. And you definitely can't get any sleep tonight because now you know you have something to do at five AM and you just wouldn't be able to rest peacefully at all. Scared that you'd fuck up the shopping trip you had planned. God you hate executive dysfunction and the anxiety it gives you, even for something like sleeping.

Thursday evening you spent all night googling the towns within a five hour radius and their second hand shops, after Jo had made her request to you. Your big ticket shops were two closer to the border of Pennsylvania. They were in pretty medium to high income neighborhoods so were the most likely to have formal wear on hand. Your plan was to drive there and get to the closer one by eight maybe get some breakfast while you waited for the shop to open. Then go to the second, and if you still hadn't met the requirements for an outfit you'd go to the town an hour away from there. Just to rinse and repeat until you went to all eight locations on your list. Making one big circle back to Kepler.

You really hoped you find something to wear at the first two. Seriously you don't want to be out shopping all day but you'd rather have a buffer of looking for things now than rushing the night before her recital.

Checking the time you see it's just a little after one in the morning. You've been playing Stardew for a few hours and are starting to get bored. Maybe you should switch games? Exiting out you ruin any progress you've made for the day, but you couldn't remember so it probably wasn't important progress. And you are now scrolling through your games looking for something to play.

Spiritfarer? No you don't feel like crying right now. Undertale? No you really don't feel like crying right now. Onion Boy Commits  Tax Evasion? Hmm, possible...but it's a quick game and you'd be done and back here in thirty minutes. Sally Face? Yea! You've been meaning to replay it for a while now and this seems as good a time as any.

Loading the game you settle deeper into the couch to become a teenage ghost detective. And you stay like that for the rest of the night until your alarm goes off mid way through chapter two. You'd been so focused on trying to get secrets that you hardly noticed the time going by. Okay, you were looking at Gizmo and taking pictures of the silly furball.

Stretching you get up and make your way to your room to grab a change of clothes, neck snapping to the side as you went. When you enter your room you're met with a white face with blocks of black for the eyes and black lipstick as its only facial features looking at you from the corner just feet away from the door. Even though your heart jumps into your throat at the sight you notice the figure doesn't get closer to you. Noting that and its immobility you figure it's a really weird and specific hallucination.

'Fucking weird?' you think as you ignore the hallucination and start rummaging through your closet.

It wouldn't be the first time a source of media has either triggered or inspired one of your hallucinations. But the face isn't exactly Sal's mask but it is mask like. Maybe Sal mixed with a panda. That's a fun thought. But overall nothing you need to worry about. Just have to get sleep tonight so you could enjoy the picnic tomorrow without any issues.

When you turn back around with your clothes in hand the hallucination is gone. You shrug before going to your bathroom to change. In a blink you are out the door and on the road by five after five. You hope you pass a Dunkin' in an hour or so, you'll need a little energy boost to get your day started. But pushing that thought aside you turn up your radio and turn off your thoughts.

Just vibes for right now, just you and the empty road.

Making it to the first thrift shop you are pleasantly surprised to see a string of old ladies shopping today. Wonderful, they'll look at knick knacks and you'll look at clothes. Looks like there won't be a need to guard clothing with your life. However when you get into the store it becomes incredibly apparent that the only thing to look at here are in fact the knick knacks.

Sighing you figure it'll at least be worth it to comb through skirts and shoes. Skirts are very limited to paisley prints that give you middle school dance flash backs, and long khakis. Neither are really what you're looking for right now so you leave them be. They'll find their homes with some home schooled kid eventually. Shoes are a bit more promising as you find a pair of red kitten pumps in your size immediately, they're a little worn but nothing a little shoe polish and leather paint can't fix.

That is until you think you see something grab at your wrist.

When you jerk back a shoe drops from your hand and the heel pops off. Again a very easy fix, plus this may get you a discount. Dropping to your knees you try to grab the heel from under the rack and when you do you notice a pair of boots that look like they've been hidden behind several pair of knee high riding boots. You grab them, they're reddish brown suede heeled boots. They're in pretty good condition and the price tag says thirteen, not bad. And they're in your size! Best find of the day, calling it now. You quickly collect your shoes and make your way to the register. While you may not wear the kitten pumps often you for sure have just found your new favorite boots.

Getting back in the car with one of three pieces for your outfit and one store down you make your way to the next town over for its store. The second store had a much wider selection of clothing however you didn't find much of anything this time. But there was a cute mini pencil skirt that had a tiny orange heart on the left side hem. You couldn't resist it when it was only two dollars.

Third times a charm or so they say. But as you're looking through the racks of dresses and skirts you start hearing whispers. Briefly looking up to see if anyone was actually around to where you'd be able to hear them you see no one. It's weird that you'd get auditory hallucinations without a visible one or without being asleep. That puts you on edge but you ignore the feeling to continue your shopping.

You've just turned to go have a look at the blazers when a voice pops into your head.

'He's here.' there's an edge of static following the words and the buzzing is enough to cloud your own thoughts.

Neck snapping to the side twice before cracking on the third time, “There we go” you say as you look around  only see families with kids in the store with you. No one is on their own or even looking your way.

'That you can see.'

Your heart is pounding harshly against your chest and while every fiber of your being is saying run. You can't it'd be obvious or it'd make you look like a whack job. So with a sharp intake of air you steady yourself and being to walk calmly to your car.

It's broad daylight and you would definitely be making a scene if your stalker tried anything. If anyone even came near you right now you'd probably scream in self preservation.

But it turns out you didn't need to worry as you got into your car, locking the doors without hassle. You didn't bother turning your radio on as you drove to the forth store. There wouldn't be a point not like you could focus with your nerves so frazzled. And that frazzled feeling doesn't go away as you arrive at the store.

Staying in the car a moment you wait to see if any other car near by seems familiar. Or any persons exiting seem familiar, like you've seen their faces in passing. No one does, and while that puts you at ease you'll still be vigilant of your surroundings.

The store's much smaller than the previous three and you decide to start with the blazer section this time. It seems like a good choice, even though it looked like a sea of black ¾ sleeve blazers and jackets you caught a glimpse of red from inside one coat. Pulling the hanger off you notice it isn't a richly colored lining but that someone shoved a red Chinese inspired silk skirt into the blazer. You aren't sure if they were judging the compatibility of the items as an outfit or if they were trying to hide it, but either way it's ended up in your hands. It's beautifully decorated in golden swirls and a dragon pattern embroidery. Putting it up to you it curls around your waist. Could mean it'd be a bit big for you, but nothing a little sewing couldn't fix.

You're pretty sure you had a black turtleneck tank top that would look great with this, and still be appropriate for hot late July weather. But maybe an additional red blazer or shawl would be a good idea. Looking at the sea of black before you you think it'd be best to continue this hunt another week.

Right now your nerves are fried and the sun is already starting to set. With thoughts of getting caught alone in the dark with your stalker you can't help but want to get home as soon as possible or at least get to a town where people would know you if your body showed up in a ditch.

Checking out with your skirt you once again find yourself in your car driving along the highway.

You get back to Kepler a little after nine, gas tank near empty so you drive on to the mini mart rather than stopping at home. You notice another car, which isn't strange for a gas station but very rare that more than two customers are here at the same time. Getting in to pay for gas you're stopped by Ronnie's pissed off voice.

“Leave Dave or I'll ban you from the shop!” she seems to seethe at the man in front of her.

“You don't have that kind of power Veronica.” gross it's David.

Whatever feeling of uncertainty you had before vanishes instantly at seeing the slime ball try to “flirt” with Ronnie. He continues to pester her and the two don't even register your entrance. Unfortunately for Ronnie she really can't do anything to stop these advances without getting in trouble. Fortunately for you, you have no such qualms.

“She said fuck off.” you push past the man shoulder checking him as you get to the counter to start talking with Ronnie.

David stumbles away not expecting the rough push. He glares down at you and you ignore him now that you're in a setting with another person. A person who has access to a silent emergency police button if things go sideways. You have back up this time and an escape plan, there's no way David can harm you right now.

“Hey, I'm gonna need thirty on pump four.” you said hoping you could just ignore the man and stall by talking about useless merchandise in the store to get him to leave. But that was before you're interrupted.

“Oh did someone grow a back bone while I was away?” you roll your eyes and pause before you lie.

“...anyway is Tim on break yet?” hoping she caught the look in your eyes to play along.

Tim was a new hire that David probably didn't know since he just got back into town. Easiest one to lie about and make excuses for why there wasn't a fourth car in the lot. The boys only seemed to have the RV and the sedan so perfectly reasonable that he got dropped off because one of his roommates needed the car.

The way Ronnie's eyes widen at you aren't out of relief but more out of realization. She shakes her head slightly, and you want to smack her for being an idiot and ruining your attempt to scare David off when she turns and yells towards the back.

“Hey Tim! You have a visitor!” you jump a bit at her volume and notice that David tenses by your side as well.

'...is she bluffing...' if she is this is the dumbest fucking bluff in the world and so easy to catch on to. You'll have to get her acquainted with true crime podcasts and shows so she can be better prepared in the future.

It isn't until you hear muffled swears and the sound of thudding from the back room of the store. It isn't long before the door to the back opens and you hear Tim's hushed voice speaking to Marigold for a second, “can you please not walk in front of me.”, and you see Tim walk through the door.

Tim's brown eyes scan the store clearly trying to find either Brian or Toby. His gaze barely passes over David but when it settles on your form leaning away from said creep and Ronnie shifting from one foot to the other the situation seems to click.

It was such a subtle change in his eyes, something you're sure that had you not been trying to catch his gaze to get your message across you would have missed. The way the highlight died before picking back up. It was probably just a trick of the over head lights, maybe he shifted a bit and it caused the light to hit differently. Something you could brush off...something you would have brushed off had you not heard a different voice speak when he opened his mouth.

“YN hey, did'ya need somethin'?” it was a notch lower than normal and somehow the tone was smoother than his usual rumble. For a moment you think he put on a voice for bravado.

Something inside tells you that's not Tim. But right now you need someone who looks like Tim. Someone who despite their “short” stature has an obvious muscle mass to them. One that confidently says “authority” to scare off the creep next to you.

You wrack your brain for something anything to say that would seem normal in this situation while you could try to assert the discomfort of Ronnie and yourself in your current situation. Just as you go to speak David begins to talk over you as he greets the man in the room.

“Hey there, name's David. Nice to see a new face in this place, how long you been here?”

Tim slides his eyes away from you and back over to David. He seems to straighten out his posture and looks over you and Ronnie before staring back at David.

“A while, is there a problem up here?”

“Oh no 's nothing like that!” David says jovially as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. You jerk from the contact. “Just talking to these nice ladies.”

'Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting' plays over and over as you squirm out of his arm.

There's an emotion you can't quite place running through you as you heart rate picks up. You feel sick as if you can feel the bile rising to your throat. Are you having a panic attack? No that's not it you're too conscious and your thoughts aren't a jumbled mess. You're probably just over stimulated. You want to calm down.

'Do you' the whispered voice is back, 'Do you really?'

It's mocking you and the strange emotion from before spikes. Is this...is this rage? Are you so upset at being touched that you're experiencing genuine rage? One with such a burning passion that you can feel your body grow warm all over.

But what did the voice ask 'do you?' do you what? Do you want to calm down?

….no....

No you didn't you can feel it in your veins, in your bones, in your entire being. You didn't want to calm down you wanted to hurt David. You want to tear him to pieces. You wanted him to give you  a reason...any reason at all. Any reason to fucking destroy him.

You aren't entirely sure where these thoughts are coming from. Maybe you're just overstimulated, your  nerves fried from the weird feeling at the thrift shop today and then paired with someone you hated very much, touching you out of no where seemed to be your ultimate breaking point.

It's Tim who brings you out of your thoughts.

When did he get so close to you?

“I think you should leave. I know for a fact YN's boyfriend won't take kindly to you upsetting them like this.” he stresses the 'them' and it seems you've missed a few key points...like when the hell you got a boyfriend?

“Oh right, what's that scrawny kid gonna do twitch at me.” when did David start taking that tone with Tim and why was he talking about Toby? What did Toby have to do with this? How did David even know about Toby?

Seems David's taunt and knowledge of Toby unsettled Tim as well, if the hand on your shoulder gripping tightly had anything to say. Has that been there this whole time? When did he put it there?

“Trust me the kid's bite 's lot worse than his bark.” there's humor in Tim's voice as he says that but it's like an old joke no one else has context for.

'Fuckin' dick...is that suppose to be a joke about his mutilated mouth?' it really does sound like it. Maybe you're reading the clues wrong...maybe you heard Tim wrong.

Thankfully whatever the fuck is building up comes to an end when Pigeon walks through the doors. Oh she's on duty, Deputy Pigeon. She looks at the four of you and your positions. And although she has a pretty good idea what's happened from Ronnie's texts she can't help but ask.

“Al'ight, what's going on here?” it's clearly been a long day for her.

“Harassment. We've asked him to leave the store but he's refused and keeps bothering our customer and us.” Tim's fast response had you and Ronnie stumped.

Did a white cis male actually come to the aid of two decidedly not male people...instead of the other white cis male? Has Hell frozen over?

It's like he knew just what to say to the officer. And he didn't try to tiptoe around it to save the other man. Tim clearly didn't want this dragging out any longer than it already has. Even David himself seems a bit taken aback by Tim's, accurate, claims. Meanwhile Pigeon looks around the room and sighs. While she knows her younger sister wouldn't have texted if this wasn't serious she was the only one on duty tonight and would only be able to take the other three's statements.

“Al'ight I'll grab y'all's statements starting with you Nychn c'mon.” the tired looking woman took David outside so he could tell his side of the story. But even with two against one he'll probably end up getting a ban from the store. Especially since he did harass a customer and not just an employee.

After getting his statement and watching him drive off from the establishment Pigeon returned back inside.

“I swear tha' boy's head has never been on right.” shaking her head.

Pigeon asked for both your and Tim's sides of the story taking you a little ways away from each other  to “prevent compromising the other's story”.

“So... looks like I've got everything, I'll have the station call Monty in the mornin' and let 'im know that he's got a new ban.”

“What about Ronnie's statement?” Tim asks as Pigeon put away her pocket pal.

“Oh Tim, Pigeon's my sister.” it's the first time Ronnie's said something since calling for Tim.

At least you think it is after all you did have a little spell after being touched.

Tim nods and Pigeon heads off after warning the three of you to stay out of trouble. Now with just the three of you in the shop you turn to Tim.

“Thanks for the save Tim.” He just nods again.

“No problem, but you really should'a said somethin' sooner.”

“I don't know what happened I like blanked and forgot you went on break before he came in.” Ronnie pipes up looking flustered.

Weird. You've noticed that does tend to happen when David's around. Maybe you should look into memory stealers. Might be why David's vibes are all off. That or he's a fucking serial killer and your instincts are trying to warn you but there are so many red flags your brain glitches instead. Whatever the reason may be you'll have to keep your guard up when he's around. It's super sketchy he left when Bambi went missing and it's a strange time to come back to town after “helping” your sister after her divorce. Two months isn't enough time to find a new routine or settle court battles.

Tim leaves to clock in and continue his break for another twenty minutes. You aren't sure that's right but Ronnie doesn't seem to complain and you've got to admit he did save you guys from that creep unpaid so he kinda deserves it. You go to pay Ronnie for gas and for some of the frozen taquitos that they normally have on the rotation cooker. But she puts thirty dollars on your pump and then just hands you a pack of the taquitos.

“Thanks for...y'know.” she might be a bitch but Ronnie can be nice if the situation calls for it.

Plus you can see by the expiration date that she'd have to just toss these out at the end of the night anyway. Who are you to turn down free food?

You head home and take your clothes and taquitos inside. You toss the clothes in an arm chair in your living room. And fall asleep on your couch shortly after eating. You are thoroughly exhausted and you had actually been tired last night. Had it not been for errands you'd have slept last night. Now you definitely have to sleep early to wake up early to finish cooking for the picnic.

[innuendostyles]

Umm maybe Ben exploring his ‘feminine’ side more????? How bout him asking u to paint his nails? Or him asking if he can wear your makeup? Idk thought it would be cute hahah

ben wants to try something different

2.8k -> masterlist

waking up next to ben was one of her favourite things on the planet. something about the way his hand would rest underneath her shirt (if she had one on) and rub small circles under her breast settled her like nothing else could. she normally woke up to ben cooing to her, usually murmurs of how beautiful she was when she slept, or if she’d overslept it would be gentle reminders of where she had to be - which was why she was surprised to wake up to dead silence.

she yearned to feel his hands on her skin, as she was so used to, but instead, her hand simply rested in ben’s. her palm face down on ben’s larger hand while he traced one pointer finger over her freshly manicured nails. they were painted a pastel blue colour, completely matte except for a shimmery top coat applied to her ring finger. she’d been on the phone ben while she was getting her nails done, asking him what he thought she should get done when the nail lady asked her what colour she’d like. he asked her what clothes she had on at that moment, to which she replied a light blue jumper that had a sparkly carebear printed on the front of it. he simply gave a ‘well then…’ and told her he’d ring her back when she was done. so to see him admiring her fresh set wasn’t surprising.

his eyes flashed to hers as she roused herself from sleep, carefully removing her hand from his to wipe the drool from her chin. he gave her a light chuckle as her body strung completely taught before laying entirely limp back on the bed and stretching her arms across his chest. she clung to him like a koala, pressing a couple of kisses to his neck when she had enough energy.

“you like my nails?” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his neck before sitting up.

“yeah.” he chuckled, resting his hand on her hip as she reached to the bedside table to retrieve her phone.

“i’ll make some breakfast.” she said, leaning down to place her hand on ben’s cheek before leaving the bedroom.

she walked down the stairs, calling for frankie as she reached the bottom step, happy to receive many sloppy kisses to her face when she bent down to give the dog her favourite behind the ear scratches.

there was a pink bottle stuck in her mouth, which y/n speedily removed and wiped on her t-shirt to get rid of all the dog spit. it was her nail polish, a cheaper dupe of some dior varnish she’d seen on instagram. the colour, effectively called ‘cha-ching cherry’ was a hot pink, and she’d bought it purely because it was on sale at the drugstore and reminded her of the dior version.

“how’d ya get this, silly girl?” she cooed to the dog, stamping kisses on the top of her head. she wondered how she even reached and opened the polish in the first place, she was sure it had still been in the plastic wrap it came in when she went to bed last night… no, it definitely was. she remembers placing it on the shelf next to the tv when she emptied her bag after she came home. so how had a three year old dog opened protective packaging? it was a mystery to her. instead of going full sherlock mode, she cracked some eggs into a pan and discarded the thought to the back of her mind.

she had to shout ben downstairs, which was unusual, because normally he’s downstairs as soon as she is, offering to help her make breakfast and playing whatever music he was in the mood for over the apartment speakers. he came down the stairs looking rather sweaty and she wondered what he’d been up to. looked like he’d just run a fucking marathon, but he was still dressed in his pyjamas (a pair of calvin kleins couldn’t be classed as pyjamas, surely?) so she knew that answer was out of the equation. maybe he’d been brushing his teeth super violently. she knows that’s not true when he goes to kiss her cheek as a good morning and she shies away from him with a ”morning breath!” and a playful grimace. he chuckles at her, bending down to pat frankie on the head.

he got frankie’s food ready before even realising he had a plate of eggs and fruit waiting in front of him. he sat at the rather small dining table, pouring them some orange juice and handing her the glass once he’d finished. even gave her a little more than he had, because he always complains she doesn’t get her 5 a day.

he just wants her to feel happy and healthy! can he complain, when she treats him so well and even leaves his eggs on for a whole minute longer than hers because she knows he doesn’t like it when the yellow is all runny? when she takes care of a dog that originally was the shared pup of him and his ex?

he has no time to think before she’s giggling a little, pointing to frankie in the corner of the kitchen who had somehow managed to eat all her food and drink all her water in the space of 2 minutes. he giggled as well, taking a bite of his eggs and calling out a ”good girl” to the beagle.

“yeah, well our ‘good girl’ somehow managed to open my new nail polish and came to me this morning with it in her mouth like it was some sort of present she bought! might have to start calling her father christmas!” she jokes, taking a bite of banana before breaking some off and making a kissy sound to garner frankie’s attention before placing some on the floor next to her for the dog. she did love her banana.

ben places his hand quickly onto his thigh beneath the table after he caught sight of it on top of the tablecloth, hoping she hadn’t noticed how quickly he made the movement. she simply furrows her brows at him, tilting her head as she asked if he was okay.

“yeah, ‘m fine just got a cramp.” he lies straight through his teeth, not being able to look her in the eyes and instead offering frankie a piece of watermelon to frankie, which was unusual for him as he never gave his food to her, claiming it ‘only gives her a bad tummy and then i’m the one who has to clean up all the sick she leaves on the bathroom floor!’, which y/n notices and gives a sigh.

“ben.” she deadpans, setting the banana peel down.

he removes his hand from his leg and sets it upon the table, in a fist originally, before he unclenches his hand and then she sees it. his ring and middle finger nails are painted pink. he looks carefully at her reaction, even though there isn’t much to go off, just a look back to his eyes after she’s seen his hand.

“are you… angry?” he questions, eyes still avoiding hers.

“i’m not angry at you for using my nail polish without telling me ben…” she says with a slight chuckle, her face looking awfully confused, “...what’s mine is yours, and all that.”

his eyes flit to her’s at this, a brow raising as he asks, “so you’re not… weirded out?”

she can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not until she looks at his hands, where he’s nervously pulling at his knuckles in hopes to make them crack. it was one of his worst habits, something he only did when he was really going through it. she realises he must have been embarrassed or feel ashamed when she tells him she wasn’t, if the way his shoulders fell from near enough above his head showed her anything.

she decides he wants to leave the conversation at that when he picks up his fork and begins eating his eggs, looking a hell of a lot less stressed than he did before.

“why were you so sweaty when you came down before?” she questions, though she’s careful to make her tone sound as least judgemental as she possibly can, offering an inquisitive smile at the end.

“i um- wanted to get it off. before you saw it.” he purses his lips before he speaks again. “i couldn’t find any of that horrid-smelling remover stuff so i was trying to scrub it off with that lemon exfoliating shit you’ve got in the shower. worked up quite a sweat.” he chuckled, and she smiled at his first genuine laugh this morning.

“ben, why did you think i’d care so much?” she asks, and she can actually feel a pain in her chest as she realises it must have been eating away at him all night after his reaction to her seeing it. the pain in her chest only deepens when she hears a muttered, “i thought you’d think it was … really weird and like… not normal.” he continues, his voice getting louder and louder as he carried on, “cause it’s like… a girls thing. and i’m not a girl. and i know you’d never think that i was stupid or weird so i don’t even know why it ran through my head cause i did it last night when you went to bed and i was still downstairs… i saw it and i just wanted to put it on me like… for fun. and then i thought you might be angry at me for opening it so i just went to bed but i couldn’t sleep cause i was worried you’d be annoyed at me so i just… spent all night looking at yours. your nails, i mean.” once he’d finished rambling, she reached a hand out to his, pulling him along until they’d settled onto the sofa in the living room.

her on her back against the arm rest, with him on his stomach laying between her legs. maybe not the most flattering position on her part, but she felt closest to him this way. she reached a hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the golden locks before sighing.

“ben, i need you to listen to what im gonna say really closely, yeah?” she whispered.

he nods, and she takes that as her cue to continue.

“it isn’t ‘a girls thing’. and i’m not angry at you, and you’re right, i’d never think you’re weird for doing anything ever. i love you, and i’m in this for the long haul, so speak to me. tell me when you wanna try new things. ‘cause you know i won’t be angry, or annoyed, or weirded out… because it’s you.” she could see his eyes softening as he stared directly into hers.

it felt like he was reaching deep inside her mind and pulling out every honest word he could find. he laid his head down on her stomach, before giving a simple, “i love you.”

“do you want me to paint the rest of them?” she asked after a couple of minutes of stroking through his hair.

“please.” he replied, and she felt his smile on her stomach as he heard frankie pattering through the doorway and coming to lie on ben’s back to join them both. he lifted his head up and formed his lips into a kissy shape, to which she leant down and pecked him.

he followed her into the kitchen to retrieve the nail polish, clapping like an excited kid as she led him upstairs. she walked into the bathroom and sat on the countertop, ben bringing a chair from the bedroom to sit in front of her. she spread her legs and placed his hand flat on the surface of the counter, protected by an old sheet of newspaper in case of a polish accident.

once she’d painted one hand, he rested it on her thigh, only beginning to stroke it once she told him his nails were dry enough. she’d finished his other hand, commending her own painting skills as she skipped the two nails he’d already done the night before, he kissed her thigh, just below where his dry hand sat, before lifting himself off the chair to press a kiss to her forehead, then her left cheek, and finally her lips. she pulled her head back as soon as she felt how dry his lips were, telling him he needed some vaseline.

he looked behind her, seeing her collection of lip products before picking up a familiar tube. it was one she used constantly, which meant it must have been good, which was the reason why he asked her to put some on him a couple of seconds later.

“vaseline isn’t the same as lipgloss, but i’ll let this one slide, my dear.” she chuckles, opening the tube of clear, strawberry scented lipgloss. it had a slight shimmer to it, especially when in the sun, and she was unbelievably excited to see it on him.

“i only picked it cause it tastes nice.” he mentions before she has the chance to apply it.

“ben! you’re not meant to eat it!” she scolds, pulling back and taking the applicator with her.

“i know! i don’t do it purposefully, i just get a mouthful sometimes after you snog me.” he says,

smiling when she laughs.

“yeah, well i think i might have to see just how it tastes the next time we snog, which i have a feeling might be in just a second.” she smirks before applying the gloss.

[prorevenge]

Mess with minors and my job? Lose your job and your boyfriend.

Tl;dr at the end because this is a doozy.

Alright circa 2014 I worked for a large movie theatre chain in a small Midwestern city. Job was pretty awesome outside of the shit pay and essentially no way to move up. I like to think I am good at my job and I try my hardest no matter where I work. In this particular situation I was one the most tenured employees at the theatre save for two other folks who had worked there part time on the side, and had full time jobs elsewhere.

So for the sake of this story I need to tell you about Jane (not actual name). Jane started working for the theatre 2 months before me. They worked elsewhere as a supervisor and was looking to move up at the theatre. Right after I started one of the managers left to work at a different theatre and the supervisor moved up. We had two managers, one general manager (basically the highest level at the theatre), and a supervisor which is a manager in training. (This is important.) Jane somehow got the supervisor position even though there was another person who essentially was promised the position due to their continued service at the theatre for almost 8 years. There were rumors about Jane sleeping with the GM when she started and this situation got them going again. I didn’t care too much because why would I, I am but a lowly peon in the corporate machine. Anyways Jane moved up and the tenured crew member left the company because they got screwed over.

Once Jane moved up we had a whole meeting about her moving up and how the theatre focuses on professionalism and ensuring no favoritism was happening. Specifically referencing how normal crew members shouldn’t fraternize outside of work with management.

Jane didn’t really listen to that though. She continued to hang out with the crew members who were mostly underage and would do various things like go drinking with minors, taking them to bars and buying them drinks or simply buying alcohol at a store and letting them drink at her house, I honestly have no issue with the drinking at home deal, just adding context, as well smoke weed with them and post pictures on Instagram. Oh yeah I forgot to mention Jane had a secret Instagram where they would post pictures of themselves with their friends from the theatre. They chose Instagram because none of their family or their boyfriend used Instagram and no one would know right?

Even more damning was her relationship with a 19 year old that worked at the theatre. She had a boyfriend who had been with her for years and honestly supported her for all intensive purposes. Not only did she have a 19 year old side piece, but also was messing around with a 17 year old. I even caught them messing around in the break room one time. She essentially threatened me with my job if I told anyone. Honestly she could’ve just told me to please be quiet and I would have just judged her silently.

Fast forward about a year or so and another one of the managers left for a new job. Jane obviously moved up and someone else took the supervisor position. Now I won’t go into too much detail, but despite my tenure and performance I was looked over for the promotion. A newer crew member who was really good friends with Jane got the position over me. This was confirmed by the other manager who let me know that Jane was definitely in good with the GM, who ultimately made the final decision. That being said I was beginning to sour and making minimum wage for years at a job that couldn’t give a shit about my efforts and continued performance. That being said I was preparing for an exit.

Before I get into my exit, it is important to note that Jane had and most likely still has a problem with me. I have talked about some issues I had with her, but I never escalated or even confronted her about anything she did to me up to this point. I honestly left it be. But I didn’t like her and the fact I didn’t like her or play along with her bullshit infuriated her. So much to the point where she made my life hell at the theatre. When she was a supervisor she didn’t have much power but when she became manager she began giving me shit shifts, convincing people that I was weird and to avoid me (I mean I am weird but not like avoid me weird), threatening me physically, threatening my job, her and her gang of misfit assholes also slashed my tires (I have no solid proof, but my car was parked in the employee lot and ya know only employees can get in), beyond that she also made fun of my girlfriend (my now wife) for having an invisible illness (MS), she would make her life hell because she had a disability and had some minor limitations. Add together all of this, plus my GF went off to college, plus getting looked over for the promotion, suffice it to say I found a new job.

I had a few close friends at the theatre including my now wife who I met while working there (silver lining right.) I had let a few of them know about the new job, but told them to keep it on the DL since it was still two weeks away. I had put my two weeks in with the GM and asked that he also keep it on the DL since Jane and her posse would fuck with me. I told him that I wanted to tell everyone myself so it kept him quiet.

Now the important thing about my new job is that it essentially paid me double my wages from the theatre. All of my friends were stoked for me, I was taking a job that would also have me making more than the managers at the theatre but also a job that put me on a better track in life. That being said with Jane and I butting heads on multiple occasions and her track record of messing with me, she decided to get one last attack on me. She started a rumor that I was just going to call out on all of my shifts the two weeks before my new job started.

With her last act of revenge in motion, the GM approached me and let me know that he wouldn’t be scheduling me the last two weeks. I tried to explain to him that the rumors were bullshit that I needed to work because it would be my only source of income. I told him that Jane started the rumor and I started to tell him all of the other stuff as well. He of course didn’t believe me and told me that Jane wouldn’t do what I was saying she would do. So it was her word vs mine. I contacted my new job who let me know that my start date was firm and that their budget wouldn’t allow me to start until two weeks later as originally planned. Now here I am essentially jobless for two weeks. Now I was upset, but I was also lucky. I was still living with family and didn’t have to pay rent, so I sucked it up and essentially told myself that I would just take a forced two week vacation. But Jane didn’t stop there. She escalated again by having one of her cronies call my new job and tell them that I got fired. I was luckily able to talk down my new boss by letting him know that this wasn’t the case that I put my two weeks in and everything else, but that was the last straw.

I left my last day at the theatre and while it was sad and I was upset that I wouldn’t be able to work out the last two weeks of my job that I had for years, I was focused and determined on revenge. Rule #1 of living a secret life and having a secret Instagram is not add every body and their mother to the page. I had a friend of a friend who also didn’t care for Jane let’s call them Joe. Joe and I had gone to high school together and briefly worked at the theatre together. He and Jane were part of the same group at the theatre until they had a small falling out. Nothing crazy but he wasn’t exactly happy with her. I talked to Joe and we discussed my issues with Jane over some lunch that I bought for him. (Food is the key to all revenge plots.) Once we ate and discussed my problems with Jane I asked for his help. I needed access to her Instagram. Ya know the secret one, showing her hanging out with underage employees, drinking alcohol and smoking weed with them, and also some mushy posts about her 19 year old boyfriend, as well as some moderately racy photos with her 17 year old fling. With very little discussion he gave me full access.

I took screenshots of essentially everything. We are talking 2-3 years worth of illicit and moderately illegal activity. More than enough to get her fired and to raise some questions in her relationship. I took the screenshots and I printed them on the most high quality paper/material that CVS had to offer. I also copied them too a few flash drives for good measure. I purchased two yellow padded envelopes (can never be too safe), and I filled them both with copies of all of the posts as well as a flash drive with additional copies. As well I included a note in each one for the appropriate parties.

One of the envelopes was taped to the back door of the theatre. There was somewhat of a blind spot so pulled into the parking lot from the rear and snuck around the corner mission impossible style to tape the envelope to the back door. On it was the GM’s name, as well in the letter I merely stated that one of their managers had a secret Instagram with a lot of damning evidence of not only favoritism, but also fraternizing with underage employees amongst other wrong doings. In the letter I also requested her immediate termination or the information would be provided to the district manager as well as our corporate office. I made sure to put it somewhere the GM would see on his morning sweep when he opened the theatre. The second folder and letter was delivered to her home by Joe. Joe agreed to this as I knew Jane’s schedule and had a good idea of when she would be gone and he knew where she lived from previous hang outs.

With both folders delivered it was only a matter of time. Before I knew it I was receiving death threats from Jane’s gang. All of them saying that they knew it was me and that Jane was going to come after me, that she never did anything to deserve this. It didn’t matter to me of course, I no longer worked there and would hopefully never have to deal with them again. From what I heard she was taken into the main office of the theatre and the GM let her have it. He ultimately had to fire her because there was very clear proof that she was in direct violation of many of the rules and conditions of her employment. As well her boyfriend with proof in hand kicked her out of his home.

Last I heard she moved farther north and hasn’t held down a solid job since. Her family didn’t want much to do with her once everything came out with her cheating on her boyfriend. Also the part about fooling around with a 17 year old tends not to sit well. In the end I started my new job without fail and moved on from that place. Haven’t see much of anyone from there since.

Tl;dr: Manager makes my life hell, continues to hang out and fool around with underage crew members, lives to regret it. Enjoy losing your job and your boyfriend.

(source) story by (/u/Ike09161995)

[etihw000]

You, Boun, Ninja and Taxi were my inspo for doing character designs, though I have to ask, what was the logic of the fashion you gave when interpreting the skins back at like 2013/2014? I could never figure out how to get that 2010s mcyt aesthetic of designs.

i’m gonna put this here for future reference: i do not want to answer asks that mention taxey. so if anyone else had sent in an ask involving her i probably deleted it and will continue to delete them, sorry.

but you tickled a bit of my rambling bones because i do like to talk, and she is part of what happened (i will hereby refer to her as T); so here we go.

i think you can separate my designs into two eras: before-T and after-T. before T came around, my designs interpreted the skins pretty literally. here’s bodil, here’s sky/ty/mitch/jerome, here’s bashur, and here’s jason.

my explanation on this: i was 13 and didn’t really like challenging myself. i’m pretty sure i took jason’s design from dopier, for example. so i took the easy way route out on a lot of things! 

but most notably, i didn’t want to draw complicated designs like sky’s. so the answer was very simple and clear: obviously, put it onto a sweater! i’m sure it was originally meant to be armor, but i didn’t want to draw armor. that’s too much thinking, too much highlighting, and i just wanted to pump out fanart for what i liked.

i didn’t like drawing checkerboards, so i switched them to lines.

i didn’t want to draw an anthro, so i just made it into a bear hat ala michael (i’m pretty sure this bear-type hat was more prominent in 2014, but it seems to have been simplified into just a hoodie with bear ears?).

i didn’t want to draw a humanoid watermelon nor did i even know where to begin with that, so i just drew bashur’s skin as a human and mirrored the design onto his hair and everything else was kept similarly.

it’s what happened with jason’s design - remember his astronaut-y outfit? yeah, i changed it to a hoodie shortly afterwards with an astronaut-y print. hated drawing that shit, challenging yourself is dead.

so in early 2014 (i came to the realization that i actually didn’t draw mcyt in 2013; i started drawing it in 2014), honestly just look at the skins you want to interpret and go with the simplest possible outcome. the end.

however, if you’re talking a bit later with the more unique designs - there was one notable thing that happened that caused it.

T.

see, i was a cranky little 14 year old child who got way too much attention. and with that attention came people copying my art - and one of them was T. 

i was highly uncomfortable at the time because, well, when you’re 14 you want to be unique as possible; you wanna stand out. and i was the only one who drew mcyt in this vaguely anime style way (because it wasn’t minecraft). and because we were all fucking weebs i assume people just started copying my art style wholesale.

see, people would mistake me for T. and vice-versa. i was extremely unhappy with this bullshit. “why are people mistaking me for this person,” i thought very unhappily to myself. and because i didn’t want to change my bloody art style, i decided designs were the way to go. so i went a bit crazy with it.

started out pretty simple. i cut ty’s shirt slightly differently (it still plagues his fanart to this day, i’m sorry ty). i gave bodil a beanie. everything was fine.

and then i still didn’t fucking want to draw checkerboards, so i just made a unique design for mitch. it followed with zek (the jacket on the right with the blue), who also had a checkerboard print. 

i did not want anyone replicating what i did, because it pissed me the fuck off something fierce. and i don’t know nor do i remember this clearly, but i’m pretty sure T started doing the same damn thing anyway. and i’m pretty sure it’s only T, because when I talked with swift and jasie they didn’t remember doing this shit. it was literally the two of us and whoever happened to be watching us do it.

it wasn’t meant to be easy to replicate. 

it was meant to be a bitch to replicate.

(i did it with rage too. the man didn’t even have a checkerboard skin. the long hair also plagues his fanart to this day, too. sorry rage.)

the other designs (ragegaming-era) were in 2015. and i was still the same angry 14-year old kid, especially since the T situation hadn’t gotten any better. we were still being mistaken for each other. people were genuinely confused about which of us were who and i don’t know how to explain to you how much anger was packed into my tiny 14 year old unsocialized body. 

i genuinely still don’t understand it now because our art styles were fundamentally different.

so i pitch you this question: what happens if simple skins meet this anger at being copied when even the simpler prints intended to be a bitch to replicate end up being mimicked, especially when the person you didn’t want copying you followed you into a wholeass new fandom? (we were more divided than now; TC and Crew were two completely different fandoms lol; we didn’t generally unite ourselves under ‘mcyt’)

you end up with other weird attempts. strangely asymmetrical cuts. even more complicated patterns. i apparently hid these but it was hell, i tell you. 

but i can assure you that the patterns on my designs were almost always symmetrical, albeit colored differently from the other side. the asymmetrical parts were different - a cut, a rolled up pant leg. something that you could do with a regular article of clothing. i know that in my circle there were some people that would have different length in shoes. i never did that. i would literally never write words on a shirt, too. i wasn’t one of those graphic tee people.

then i guess in late 2015 i got tired of it all and went back to the simple times of just not wanting to draw difficult designs before quitting altogether.

so you want to know what defined 2014 designs? 

it was a 14 year old’s absolute anger at being copied to fucking death and having to be mistaken for other people.

i hope this helped and i am now going to choose to forget that i ever decided to answer this ask. not because it was a bad ask, but because i don’t like thinking about T in particular. 

thank you for indulging my rambling bones. here’s a tl;dr for you:

Before-T designs (simpler)

the interpretations are literal.

if you can’t tell what’s going on, just make it a sweater and copy the patterns on the skin 1:1.

if there’s a different head (jason’s astronaut helmet, jerome’s bacca head) just make it a hood or a hat.

After-T designs (more difficult)

you still don’t wanna draw things out of your comfort zone, so stay out of the armor/anthro business.

give every design two layers - three at most. 

you love hoodies :)

if the skin is simple, use slightly different shades to add patterns (i believe he had a plain blue hoodie and plain black pants).

want to be even MORE unique than before? add something asymmetrical. remove a sleeve, roll up a pant leg, or something, but never shoes or gloves. they are sacred and you shouldn’t do that to them.

idk someone pointed out that i was apparently allergic to necks because i kept giving designs chokers or scarves or whatever. they’re usually solid in color

[radramblog]

Full-Art Basic Lands

Magic is inherently a game about customizability and aesthetic, and nowhere is this best displayed than in one’s choices for Basic Lands. From longtime players flexing their Beta sets, to the cheeky people running exclusively white-bordered ones, to newbies and people who don’t care as much just grabbing what they can from the nearest land station.

However, a full discussion of basic lands would be highly impractical for this kind of post, seeing as there are 244 different arts for Plains alone, and I only have so much time in a day. However, what I did want to discuss is the different varieties of some of the most coveted basics in Magic- the Full-Arts. There’s a lot more types now than there used to be, so they’re worth discussing at length. Also, they’re freaking cool- expect a fair chunk of gushing in this post.

(Update: I forgot just how many sets had FABLs at this point, so this ends up being a two-parter. The other half’s already written, at least, and it’s probably going up on Thursday seeing as that’s going to be a very fucky day for me. It’s just, like, nobody wants to read 3000 words of this in one sitting, I think.)

Unglued

The first iteration of what could be called full-art lands was in Magic’s first Silver-Bordered parody set, Unglued. Considering what these look like, though, it might not be appropriate to call the Unglued lands full-art, as maybe “alternate border” is a better description. The framing of the art on these cards is, well, frame-like, with a verticality that reminds of a tall window or Egyptian cartouche.

I believe these ones used to be somewhat divisive, and I can see why. As much as the frame is interesting, it is also fairly distracting, and the dull brown of the Land frame doesn’t look particularly great when extended. And while the taller frame well suits the art for most of the cards, the Plains looks a little weird next to the very tall trees and forbidding rock faces of the other four arts. Interestingly, the Plains is also the cheapest of the five, though this is probably owing to this version being reprinted in The List for…some…reason. And not the rest. Huh.

 Unhinged

Much like Unglued, Unhinged is a parody set, and the basics that come with it served as experimentation on the design much like the joke cards toyed with potential future card mechanics. Unlike the Unglued lands, though, the Unhinged Basics are pretty universally agreed to be fucking gorgeous.

Almost the entire card is dominated by the art of the card, with a thin frame and border the only dividers between art and edge. The modern land frame looks much more interesting than the old-border one, frankly, meaning that the parts of the card that aren’t art just look a little bit better. And that art…John Avon is an absolutely excellent landscape painter, and his skill is in full swing here. There’s intense colours and hundreds of subtle details, with the vastness of each land’s world conveyed through either an aerial or first-person perspective. The Forest and Swamp are impossibly deep, the Plains and ocean impossibly vast, the Mountain impossibly tall.

For a while, these were the de facto full-art basics, to the point where the MTGO Cube tournaments gave them to your decks by default. They’ve well earned that title, frankly, as there aren’t a lot of Magic cards that look as good as these do.

 Zendikar

Zendikar is the first Standard set to have come with an alternate style of basic, an choice made to support the set’s Landfall theme and adventurous world. For the first time, the full-art lands were made to convey landscapes utterly alien to earth, worldbuilding in much the same way as those from previous Planes like Mirrodin and Alara. This also means it was the first set with full-arts that also had more than one art per basic, adding collectability and variety to this and many future sets.

The landscapes of the Zendikar full-arts are bizarre and otherworldly, with floating rocks (and the infamous “cup Island”) and impossibly gnarled and branching trees. The violence of the plane’s Roil is conveyed through crashing mountains, steaming vents, and tornadoes of water. While previous lands have had charm, these have character.

It was the Zendikar basics that were the defaults when I started playing Magic, since the Unhinged ones were prohibitively expensive and the Unglued ones were that and also not everyone liked them. Even then they were pricy, not 4 years since their printing. It’s also worth noting that these were the first iterations of full-art basics that would get a normal-frame version, the art compacted into a standard Basic shell- obviously they don’t look as good, but in pieces of art designed for a portrait, the cropped landscape doesn’t quite work.

 Judge Promos 2014

There isn’t a lot to say about these, seeing as they’re basically irrelevant to most players. They’re the only other set of basics in the “Modern” (8th Edition-Conspiracy) frame as full arts, and they make up a panorama which is fairly cool. They’re pretty, sure, but not especially notable.

Also, fuck Terese Nielsen. And fuck TERFs in general. 

 Battle for Zendikar

I remember these fondly, seeing as the were the first that came out since I started playing, and the Fat Packs containing a solid block of them sold out almost immediately. I did manage to pick one up for Oath of the Gatewatch, though. This was the first set in the current frame, with a border that’s only tapered at the top and the black bottom section for collector information. Hot take, but I think these look better framewise than Zendikar.

As far as art goes, each land type has 4 new arts and 1 reprinted (yes, including Cup Island), and I think some amount of the unique character of Zendikar was lost in the 6 years between releases. Much of the violence and chaos of the originals is missing, and there’s more of an emphasis on the amazing vistas of the plane- brighter skies, even on some of the Swamps, and relatively fewer of the Hedrons which dominated the landscape.

However, I’d argue this works thematically for the set. Original Zendikar was about exploring this dangerous, rugged world, where survival is not guaranteed and landmarks were just as likely to float away or collapse as they were to remain standing. But Battle for Zendikar is a war story, of fighting against an insurmountable force- thus, the basics are here to show that the world and all its beauty are worth fighting for.

 Oath of the Gatewatch

This is kind of a special case, seeing as the Plains, Islands, Swamps, Mountains, and Forests from this set were the same as those in Battle for Zendikar. However, Oath of the Gatewatch added a new basic “type”, in the typeless Wastes, along with two different art treatments representing the devastation in the wake of two Eldrazi Titans, Ulamog and Kozilek.

There’s a clear winner here. The desolation of Ulamog is chalky, dry, and skeletal, and while it’s kind of disquieting, it holds no candle to the utter unreality of the bismuth landscape left by Kozilek. It’s ultimately just so much more of an interesting piece of art, a world as alien to us as the Wastes were to the game of Magic. There’s a reason that was the version they chose to put in the old border in Time Spiral: Remastered.

 Amonkhet

For a world as monobiomic as Amonkhet, the basic land art is surprisingly varied. I was wondering how they’d make Forest work on a desert plane with one main city. Unfortunately, the full-art land art is somewhat less interesting. Amonkhet, like most sets, has 4 arts per basic land type, but in this case, only one of those is full-art, making packs marginally more of a gamble.

I see what they were going for. The visions of Nakhtamun presented by these cards are relatively peaceful, with the Throne of the God Pharoah in the background adding this ominous mood, as the Second Sun slowly creeps towards it. It is somewhat jarring, though, when you realize that all of these pieces are apparently taken from the same angle, meaning that that section of the city must be a bit of a hodge-podge.

These arts are basically fine. I don’t have a huge issue, but I wish there was a bit more variety, especially considering the gorgeous shots in some of the other basics from the set. You could have put the Monuments in the background instead of the Bolas horns, like some of those other basics do, but I suppose that wouldn’t do for the next set, would it.

Hour of Devastation

The full-art lands of Hour of Devastation are the same shots as from Amonkhet, but after the God-Pharoah’s return has laid waste to Nakhtamun and its people. The rivers run red with blood, the sky is an ominous haze, swarms of insects ravage the clouds, and those big buildings acting like mountains are, uh, kinda broken.

I will confess a love for these cards, if only because the non-Swamp ones are a great thematic choice for basics in a Black-based multicolour deck. In addition, and this is kind of a unique, personal bias, but: When the Sealed League for this set came around, foils of these were given out to players as promotion, but the batch we got at our local was heavily, heavily overprinted. Thus, I have a single copy of the Forest from this set that looks utterly gorgeous, this incredible darkness only pierced by the glow of the horns that are somehow more foreboding than the night surrounding them. It’s been in my Sultai EDH deck ever since.

 Unstable

Much in the vein of its predecessors, Unstable has basic lands trying out a new Thing than the others, and in this case the basics aren’t just full-art, they’re borderless. And they got John Avon back for them, so the art is as incredible as Unhinged was.

One interesting thing about these is the haze of colour in the background of the art pieces. The Forest has this green glow, and the tinge of the clouds in the Swamp and Mountain lean black and red respectively. This helps a lot in these cards, letting the semi-transparent frame blend into the art, helping that seamless feel.

My main, and probably only, issue with these basics is the holographic rarity stamp present on every rare since Magic 2015, as while these obviously would be and did become valuable, they’re still just basics. The only real money in Unstable, sure, but I don’t think that’s deserving of the stamp, which is kind of distracting. It’s absence would also have allowed the bottom border to be even lower, were WoTC willing to compress the collector’s information to a single line. It is a missed opportunity, but not especially much of one.