#just because it’s a desert doesn’t mean it’s always fuckin summer

[chaoticbuggybitchboy]

Everyone else talking about danger days summer are cowards. Where was your danger days spring? The winter and fall? Does better living stop their dracs for winter? Just because the zones never see snow fall or the autumn leaves doesn’t mean there’s no heavy rains or cool nights for stargazers and trailblazers. The world doesn’t stop when the heat wanes, it runs faster.

[hood-ex]

This is a fic written for @stxleslyds! The prompt was: a fic with Dick, Roy and Lian spending time together in the Outsiders era. Thanks for the donation, Tati 💙.

Important: This fic takes place a week after the events of Outsiders (2003) #19.

“We could use you here,” Roy says. Even with his voice coming directly through the comm, Dick almost doesn’t hear him say, “I need you here.”

A soft wind blows through Blüdhaven, ruffling through Dick’s sweat-matted hair. What a filthy night it is for a Friday. Thunder rumbling in the distance with hot, humid air filling Dick’s lungs. It’s the kind of air that isn’t natural for a place like the ‘Haven. It’s here for whatever reason, and it’s no better now that the sun has been replaced by pink and purple neon lights flashing across the strip. It’s nights like these that Dick can admit to missing his red tunic and green shorts. It was shit to wear them in the winter but an absolute godsend in the summer.

Dick sighs deeply, moving away from the ledge of the building and away from his view of the herds of drunk people whose laughter echoes between the bars and casinos. There’s a tall HVAC unit in the middle of the building that he walks over to and sits against. The fabric of his suit rubs against it, and he squirms a little at the uncomfortable position. He bears it because this is a conversation that requires a little support.

“Dick.”

“I know,” Dick mutters.

He should be under the streets of Brooklyn the same as all the other Outsiders should be. Considering the circumstances, it’s no surprise that some of them have deserted the ship for the time being. Licking their wounds in private so to speak. Dick’s not proud of it. He tacks it onto his mental bulletin board of shame where it sits up there all torn and ugly like the rest of his deplorable moments.

“I’d feel better if you were here to watch Lian when I step out of the room,” Roy says in Japanese. Dick’s brow furrows. Either Lian is in the same room as Roy and he doesn’t want her to know they’re talking about her or there’s an Outsider nearby that he doesn’t want listening in on his personal issues. “She hasn’t started therapy yet and her separation anxiety is still high.”

“High for both of you,” Dick points out. He thinks back to a few days ago when Roy had called him in a panic because he’d left all of his groceries in the middle of the store after his paranoia got the best of him and had him running back to the base to check on Lian.

“Tell me about it,” Roy laughs dryly. “I feel like I’m going fuckin’ nuts, dude.” The strain in his voice sends a full body shiver down Dick’s spine. “All I can think about is whether she’s okay and if the base is protected enough, and if I can really trust everyone here. You and Kory are the only ones I feel okay leaving her with.”

You shouldn’t trust me like that, Dick thinks bitterly. Lilith and Donna trusted me with their lives and look where they are now.

“Everyone else is… I trust them as teammates. I trust them with my life. But I can’t—"

“Trust them with Lian’s,” Dick says, knowing how much this whole situation has fucked with Roy's ability to trust anyone and everyone. Except him and Kory, apparently. Probably Ollie and the rest of Roy's family too.

He thunks his head against the HVAC unit and stares up at the dark sky. Not a single star up there, he thinks, and something like guilt burns in his chest. You took them all with you, didn’t you, Donna? Put them in your pockets and faded away. “She might not be comfortable with me there,” he says after a moment.

It pains him to think that Lian could be scared of him. Scared of him because he looks similar to one of the blue-eyed, dark-haired kidnappers who murdered her babysitter and then branded her like cattle. That type of trauma association doesn’t go away after a week.

“Kory told Lian you might stop by, and you know what Lian asked her?”

Terrible things flash through Dick’s head. Things like words born of fear or disgust. He hugs his arms around his knees and squeezes them tight.

“No, what did she say?”

“She asked, ‘Is Uncle Nightwing gonna bring Blue’s Clues with him?’”

A smile tugs at the corner of Dick’s lips and his eyes start to sting. He can’t believe that’s the first thing she thought of. It only seems like yesterday that he was watching Blue’s Clues with her in Titans Tower. Sometimes he would pause the show and ask Lian questions about each of the clues just to hear what kind of outlandish answers her kid brain could come up with. Other times the detective in him couldn’t help but steer her towards a logical answer. Roy used to always roll his eyes and tell him to stop trying to turn her into a mini Nightwing.

“That doesn’t mean she’ll be okay seeing me in person and you know it,” Dick reminds him.

Roy’s sigh is soft and muffled in his ear. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

Dick’s not one to wait around.

“Let’s cross it now.”

“You’re coming over?” Roy asks, and even though he mostly sounds neutral, Dick can hear the disbelief hidden under it all.

If there was an award for the world's most shitty friend, Dick would probably be in the lead to receive it. Here Roy is dealing with the fact that his daughter was abducted and almost trafficked, and what’s Dick been doing for the last few days instead of sticking by his side? Working himself to the bone in Blüdhaven, that’s what. Hiding away from the fact that he almost lost another important person to him. Trying to avoid the crushing weight of failure that clings to him like a second skin.

Pathetic. Some safety net he is.

“Yeah, give me an hour,” Dick says.

The commute from Blüdhaven to Brooklyn isn’t bad at this time of night. Most of the traffic is packed downtown where all the bars are lined up. Dick takes the highway to avoid the worst of it.

The roar of the city dies off once he goes underground. Down here the HQ looms over him in all its steel glory. Dick’s always thought of it like one giant elevator. It’s all hard angles and sleek, silver walls. Hardly a place one would describe as homey, but it was home to a few people nevertheless.

Dick goes inside after getting his eye and hand scanned by the computer. He heads down the hallway, keeping his footsteps light and quiet out of habit. So far there’s no sign of Jade, Indigo, or Rex in any of the rooms he passes. They’re the most likely to be here around this time. From what Kory told him the other day, Grace has been spending most of her time clubbing, and Anissa has been staying with her dad. He hates to admit it but it’s almost a relief that he doesn’t have to worry about running into either of them.

He ends up finding Roy and Lian in the rec room. Lian is sitting on the leather couch in the middle of the room. She must have had a shower not too long ago because her hair is a little damp and she’s wearing a pair of purple pajamas with unicorns on them. A Cinderella blanket is strewn across her lap and a stuffed rabbit sits discarded on the floor by her feet.

Roy looks small squatting in front of her. His pants are the only sign of his Arsenal gear, and it makes Dick feel slightly out of place since he’s still decked out in full mask and suit. It’s the first time Dick’s seen Roy in person since they brought down Tanner’s operations a week ago. He looks how Dick would expect any parent to look after being targeted by a major sex trafficker: stressed and exhausted.

Those tired eyes of his shift to the doorway where Dick stands, and Dick can see the way Roy looks him over from head to toe, assessing Dick’s condition. He can look as hard as he wants, but he won’t find anything. Dick keeps his face blank and unreadable.

“It still hurts,” Lian whimpers, and both Dick and Roy's attention immediately snaps back to her.

She wraps her arms around her stomach and bends over her lap like she’s going to throw up all over the floor. Roy doesn’t move to try and avoid any possible bouts of vomit. Nothing happens as the seconds tick by. No retching or anything. There’s only the sound of Roy’s hand rubbing up and down Lian’s arm.

“Me and your Uncle Nightwing are gonna get you feeling better soon,” Roy assures her in a gentle voice. “And guess what?”

Lian makes a questioning sound in the back of her throat.

The look Roy shoots Dick is somewhere between caution and amusement. “He’s been playing quiet mouse behind you this whole time.”

Dick braces himself as Lian shoots back up like a rocket. “He’s behind me?” she asks, twisting around in her seat. Dick’s heart starts jackrabbiting because what if she’s scared of him? What if he accidentally triggers her PTSD? What if— “Uncle Nightwing!” Lian shrieks.

Relief shudders through him because she sounds happy to see him. Not scared or angry or disgusted like he feared. She’s looking at him like he just told her he brought her a bag of candy, and that revelation is enough to make him take a breath and finally enter the room.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dick says, hurrying over to the couch so that she doesn’t have to get up. “I missed you.”

Lian reaches for his hand and holds on to it. It’s not like the hug Dick usually gets from her and maybe that’s because she doesn’t want anyone touching her back after the incident. Dick will take anything he can get. His much larger hand closes over her own and he swings them back and forth lightly.

“Me too,” Lian says. She squeezes his hand three times. “Why do you still have your gloves on?”

“My hands are cold,” Dick lies. “Why were you bent over like an accordion just a minute ago?”

“Her tummy’s been hurting,” Roy says with a frown.

“It’s because tigers used to try and eat people,” Lian tells him matter-of-factly. Roy looks like he’s about to correct her but she quickly hurries on. “My brain says there’s danger and it makes my tummy stop working.”

A lightbulb goes off in Dick’s head as he realizes that she’s describing anxiety. A simplified explanation of how the digestive system shuts down and sends blood to other parts of the body when there’s danger.

“My tummy does that too,” Dick says after a pause. “I get a lot of anxiety sometimes. Do you want me to show you how I try to make it go away?”

Lian scrunches her nose. “Do we have to take medicine?”

“Nope. All we need to do is sit up straight and breathe. Breathing really deep helps our brains calm down and makes our tummies feel more relaxed,” Dick explains. He sinks down on the plush couch and demonstrates how she should be sitting. “Now move back until you’re sitting like me.”

Lian does as she’s told and scoots back until she’s resting against the back of the couch. Dick only remembers how short she is when he notices how her feet stick out straight in front of her instead of dangling over the edge of the couch.

“Now tell your daddy to get in position.”

“Daddy,” Lian slaps the free cushion beside her, “sit next to me.”

“Magic word?” Roy prompts.

“Please,” Lian pouts.

“That’s better.” Roy’s knees pop when he shifts out of his crouched position. The whole couch rocks when he falls back against it. “What’s the strat here, Wing? We need to close our eyes or what?”

Dick wants to ask him why he’s acting like he’s never done this before but the playful words stick in his mouth like glue.

“We’ll close our eyes in a second. Lian, I want you to watch how your daddy and I take really deep breaths, okay? Then we’re all going to do it together.”

“I can take really big breaths!” Lian insists. She scrambles out of her pose and gets on her knees. Her little fingers wrap around Dick’s bicep as she leans in close to him. “I can take one million breaths as big as an elephant!”

The tired and apathetic part of him tells him to ignore her kid logic and to get back on track. The uncle part of him is another story. It wants him to be fun and helpful. To distract Lian from the worries and fears she has.

In the end, he does what he always does best: puts on a performance.

“Oh yeah?” Dick challenges with a grin that hopefully doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “I can take five billion breaths as big as a planet.”

“Elephants are bigger than planets,” she says.

“I think maybe the elephants are only bigger in your dreams.”

“Yeah, they are,” Lian agrees because she’s a typical kid who will support anything that proves she’s right in some capacity.

Roy looks amused when he puts his hands on Lian’s shoulders and steers her to sit back on her bottom. “Alright little missy, no more talking. We’re gonna do what Uncle Nightwing says now, okay?”

“Okay,” Lian agrees, looking over at Dick expectantly.

Coaching Lian through the exercise is easy. The most important part is making sure she’s taking breaths that are deep enough to make her stomach expand like a balloon. Dick has her place her hands on top of her stomach so he can see them rise when she inhales.

Roy follows along and Dick can tell that he’s taking advantage of the exercises for his own benefit. His face looks peaceful and relaxed as he follows along with Dick’s instructions to suck in a breath on the count of one and exhale up until the count of ten.

“Keep focusing on counting,” Dick tells them while they exhale. “We don’t want any other thoughts in our heads. No bad thoughts or funny thoughts. Only think about counting to ten.”

They run through a few more cycles. Dick’s pleased when he hears both Lian and Roy’s stomachs grumbling as they exhale. It’s a good sign that the deep breaths are massaging their organs and decreasing any kind of stomach pain.

“That’s it,” Dick says. “We’re all done.” He opens his eyes and sees Lian slumped against the back of the couch. Her hands are still resting on her stomach, but she looks languid instead of tense like she was when he first saw her.

“I’m tired now,” Roy says. His movements are slow as molasses when he slides forward to the edge of the couch and bends over to rest his arms on his thighs. He looks at Lian. “How about you, princess? You feeling any better?”

“Mhmm. My tummy doesn’t feel really uh…”

“Tight?” Dick offers.

“Yeah, it’s not so tight anymore.”

Roy pushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “Good. Mine feels a little better too.”

“Can we do Uncle Nightwing’s breathing thing again tomorrow?” she asks through a yawn.

“Sure thing,” Roy nods. His attention shifts to Dick. “Are you gonna still be here to lead us through it?”

This isn’t some kind of test but it feels like one. It feels like if he says no then he’s only proving that he’s a bad friend. That he can’t be relied on. He doesn’t want to give Roy that impression because it’s not true. Roy can rely on him the same way Dick relies on Roy. He hopes showing up here tonight is proof of that.

“That’s the plan,” he says, voice soft.

Roy leans over the couch and squeezes Dick’s knee gently. “You sure?” he asks, and his eyes roam over Dick’s face like he’s trying to find evidence that Dick is lying.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He pats Roy’s hand reassuringly in the same way Alfred's done for him and Bruce a hundred times. It's only now that he realizes it's a habit he's picked up.

Lian suddenly leans into Dick’s side and presses her weight against his arm. She pats both his and Roy’s hands.

“I’m sure too,” she says, and this time Dick can’t help but smile.

[woulddieforperrytheplatypus]

What're some of your favorite moments between Doof and Perry during Phineas and Ferb?

You have absolutely no idea how fucking long I spent making this video fhdsjahkjaf I’m gonna gush under the cut about why I liked each one so y’all don’t have to deal with me if you don’t want to lol

These are in no particular order. They’re just numbered to line up with the reasoning. I added lil descriptions to each of them but you’ll probably have to either watch the video first or have a pretty good memory of the show to understand them lol

1. “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?” (A Hard Day’s Knight)

Literally just the way he says, “Dr. Wexler, you’re a platypus?”

2. “Is every platypus named Perry?” and then Perry bites him (AT2D)

M O N C H (also Heinz calls him cute) (also also “We do not bite the elderly!”)

3. Perry tries to fly him and Heinz home from the desert but Heinz flips the turbo switch and they lose the jetpack (Road to Danville)

“Like you didn’t know about my switch-flipping compulsion!” They’re literally an old married couple omfg I can’t even (also moment of appreciation for the fact that they’re close enough that Heinz just assumes Perry knows about his switch-flipping compulsion) (another moment of appreciation because Perry probably does)

4. The end of the Perry/Doof subplot of Terrifying Tri-State Trilogy of Terror

First of all, the way Perry decides to run under his giant floating head when going around would take two extra seconds? Beautiful. And, of course, Perry’s fucking smirk because that’s just not his problem lmaooo

5. The pause in the FIGHT FIGHT IT’S A PLATYPUS FIGHT (Doofapus)

I love that they literally just stop mid-fight to have tea. I firmly believe there is no other pair of nemeses that would do that and this is just how Heinz and Perry work. Also, Perry’s smile? He feels so understood? It’s so pure?

6. Vanessa lets Perry in before he can break down the door with his rocket launcher and then Perry accidentally shoots it through the wall (My Sweet Ride)

“This is why I can never have anything nice -_-”

7. Heinz doesn’t trap Perry (Road to Danville)

He’s so confused fjdahfksdhfak he literally goes out of his way to get trapped at that point (even if he pretends he doesn’t) and Heinz flipped the script on him without telling him and his lil shrug is so cute and I just jsfhkjadhsk

8. There’s a Platypus Controlling Me (Brain Drain)

You had to know this one was gonna be there

9. “In your letters, you said your nemesis was a suave, semi-aquatic personification of unstoppable dynamic fury” (Oil on Candace)

The fact that Heinz sent his ex-professor a letter gushing about his nemesis is just *chef’s kiss*

10. Perry and Dennis are fighting in giant puppets in the street and Heinz recognizes Perry piloting the puppet because of his fighting style (The Return of the Rogue Rabbit)

I’m pretty sure this is the only time Heinz ever recognizes Perry without his hat on (correct me if I’m wrong tho) and the fact that it’s literally just because Perry punched the fuckin camera kills me every time

11. Heinz is worried they won’t make his play in time so Perry tells him to flip the turbo switch (Road to Danville)

Perry just trusts him so much??? Flipping the switch was what got them into that mess in the first place??? But Perry cares so much about Heinz making his LOVEMUFFIN play that he’s willing to give it another go??? I love it???

12. DANCE BABY DANCE BABY HANDS IN THE AIR (Candace Disconnected)

I feel like we don’t get to see Perry just kinda hanging out like that a lot. He’s always doing that steely glare, even when they’re having fun. I don’t think Perry really realizes how emotionless he can look sometimes (the beginning and end of Sidetracked are from Perry’s POV especially at the end, the way he acts with the boys shows too much character for a secret agent, so even though he seems to think it’s obvious that he’s all lovey dovey with them, he does much too good a job at hiding his emotions) but it’s nice to see him drop the facade every now and then

13. Heinz calls Monogram because Perry hasn’t shown up (Perry the Actorpus)

I know Perry’s not technically in this one but I love that Heinz a) calls OWCA when Perry doesn’t show up and b) looks so nervous as he calls OWCA because Perry hasn’t shown up

14. Perry brings Heinz a glass of water (Road to Danville)

Half this episode is just them being mad at each other because they blame the other one for sticking them in the desert with way home, and I love that even though Perry’s been fuming pretty much the entire time, the second Heinz actually starts yelling at him, he’s immediately hit with a wave of guilt (also I love that he somehow found a glass of water in the middle of the desert?)

15. “YOU PEED ON MY COUCH!” (AT2D)

Not gonna lie, I mostly picked this one for shits and giggles BUT that doesn’t mean I can’t overanalyze it because that’s what I do best. Perry’s whole role in the show is to tie together the two completely unrelated plots, and that’s only so entertaining because not only does neither side know the other, but neither side knows what version of Perry the other side knows. This is the first time Heinz has really connected mindless pet Perry with Agent P Perry, and I feel like that was the most interesting part of the movie was that Phineas, Ferb, Candace, and Heinz all saw a side of Perry they didn’t know. 

16. Heinz invites Perry out for lunch (The Quietest Day Ever)

Heinz doesn’t even know he got hit with the de-handsome-inator. He literally just thinks he lost, and his immediate reaction is to ask if Perry wants to hang out. I just love those lil insights into their relationship when they’re not fighting. Also, perry.exe has stopped working.

17. Honestly just all of Father’s Day

I hate knowing that chronologically, Father’s Day had to happen probably less than halfway through the summer and not towards the end like it does in the episode order. It’s such a sweet turning point in their relationship. Perry’s head all these horrible backstories about Mr. Doofenshmirtz and I can only assume he hates the guy, but he’s still so supportive of Heinz trying to win his approval -- and he’s supportive when that fails and Heinz needs someone to lean on.

18. Perry Lays An Egg

T H W A R T   M E   P E R R Y   T H E   P L A T Y P U S 

19. Heinz proving he knows how to shut the fuck up by refusing to shut the fuck up (Road to Danville)

Perry’s literally about to fight a bitch and I can’t blame him. I also like the lil look into Heinz’s thoughts with the “it’s not like I have to fill the space” line because it really explains a lot about him.

20. Perry waiting for the New Year’s ball to drop and for Heinz to finish his scheme (Happy New Year!)

Once again, a beautiful look at how their entire relationship is based on their routine and knowing what to expect. It wouldn’t be Heinz and Perry if there was not punching and kicking involved. (Also, Perry’s smug face while he waits) (Also also, Perry’s lil shrug)

21. Heinz invites Perry to hang out in his house in the suburbs (Put That Putter Away)

GIVE PERRY A DAY OFF (but for real I love that Heinz literally just asked if he wanted to hang out, AND that he assured Perry that he’d make sure he didn’t get in trouble with Monogram for it)

22. The end of Sidetracked

THEY? HOLD? HAND???

23. “The thing that’s kept me from succeeding all these years is YOU!” *turns finger around* (Road to Danville)

PERRY IS SO DONE WITH HIS SHlT I CAN’T FDJAFHDJLSFHDSAKJ

24. Roger tries to say hi to sleeping Perry (Just Our Luck)

How often does Perry have to fall asleep around Heinz for the guy to know he gets testy when someone wakes him up?

25. The brief New Year’s dance break (Happy New Year!)

THEIR DANCING IS SO FAST AND SO IN SYNC EITHER THEY REHEARSED THIS OR THEY JUST KNOW EACH OTHER SO WELL THAT IT JUST HAPPENS NATURALLY AND I WOULD DIE FOR THEM OKAY

26. Perry accidentally became famous for advertising tools and then shows up at DEI (Perry the Actorpus)

He’s so happy to see his nemesis again :,)

27. “You think I’m evil, right?” *finger guns* (Oil on Candace)

Perry is at least partially responsible for how horribly that day went, but that’s his job is to make sure evil scientists don’t impress other evil scientists. You don’t want, like, an evil scientist team up or whatever. But I’m decently sure there’s nothing in the job description that says Perry has to stick around and assure his nemesis that he’s good at being evil, so that’s all Perry’s doing.

28. Perry pulled an all nighter and shows up at DEI asleep and Heinz has to try not to wake him up (Just Our Luck)

The amount of respect it takes for Heinz to see his nemesis sleeping on the job and go out of his way not to wake him up (but to make sure he’s still included, of course; he’s not a disrespectful guy, even if he is evil) warms my heart

29. Perry shows Heinz a bunch of their pictures together (This Is Your Backstory)

a) I love that Perry carries those pictures in his wallet 

b) I love that those pictures exist at all

 c) I love that Heinz has enjoyed his nemesisship with Perry so much that it basically negates every tragic backstory

[passivenovember]

@coffeeandchemicals (aka the sweetest angel bb) asked:  For the drabbles, 55 or 60 or 72 with harringrove! Please and thank you!! 💙

55. “Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Paper Angels.

The things is. Steve’s always had a sixth sense when it comes to falling in love. Can smell that shit from a mile away, the reeking infatuation that turns his already liquified brain into something like sludge. Mashed potatoes with too much milk, or something. 

And it used to be that Robin would point it out in that usual way of hers, before Steve became a pro at monitoring his own downfall. Pick your tongue up off the floor, dingus. 

And it used to be that Steve would take it like. A basketball to the back of the head, the realization that he was bleeding out in an open field for fucking whoever. Nancy Wheeler or Mark Lewinski or Brittani Clark. Robin could always sense it when Steve’s feelings started leaking out of his ears, but.

Billy Hargrove was something else entirely.

Neither of them saw it coming. The pushes and snarky comments that morphed into butterflies and concealed smiles under the light of the full moon, it was like.

Crossing a deserted road only to be fuckin’. T-boned by a cyclist who doesn’t have their lights on, or something. 

One day they were enemies. Avoiding each other like the plague--Billy actually gagged when Steve passed by him at parties. Called him Steve “Sloppy Seconds” Harrington, and. Yeah. The feeling was fuckin’ mutual, alright?

Because Hargrove always wore too much cologne and Steve had the sneaking suspicion, after that night at the Byers’ when contact sports took on a whole new meaning with the sound of ceramic against his skull, that Billy perfumed his dick.

Sometimes guys did that, he’d heard. And if Steve had to bet, like, cold hard cash on it, Billy Hargrove was definitely one of those guys. And not that Steve really. Thought about it much or anything but kissing Billy was probably like licking the inside of an ash tray. 

Just the thought of made him gag.

So, yeah. The feeling was mutual. The queasiness in Steve’s tummy was, like, disgust or something. Every time he saw that curly top above a sea of drunk high schoolers, he would start sweating a shit.

Bullets. Like he was going to face the electric chair, and. Steve had never thought for even a second that that feeling was mutual. 

That Billy would be anxious to see him. Would escape the moment he heard Steve rounding the corner into whatever lame party was on the ducat this week, so. When they eventually became friends. Best Friends, close as a couple of girls, it felt like Steve had solved the most difficult puzzle in the universe. 

They were shitfaced. Drunk enough to forget ceramic plates and nervous feelings, and Billy had tried to high-five him. Steve, on his way out for a smoke. Passed by with a little, well if it isn’t the leftover turkey, and. It would’ve been cool, but. They missed. 

By a lot. Two guys who never sat on the bench during a game, they. Fuckin’ couldn’t land a high five from less than a foot away and that was it. Billy’s walls crumbled around them like so much graham cracker dust, and. 

His eyes were pretty. Had they always been that pretty? Steve couldn’t remember but then Billy was leaning in, cheeks pink from laughter and whispering, You ain’t half bad, Harrington, into the shell of Steve’s ear. 

Like it was a secret only the two of them could remedy, and. Billy pulled away. Winked, waggled his stupid, ridiculous tongue, and. When he passed by he smelled like summer rain. Black pepper and grapefruit.

Steve closed his eyes and felt the love leaking from his ears.

Shit.

--

After that it was like surviving a forest fire. Billy would show up at Steve’s just before midnight with a six pack of Budweiser and a half smoked joint. On bad day’s he acted like coming to Steve’s house was a chore, like. Steve was holding him at gunpoint, preaching about commitments like Steve had even asked for his company in the first place, and.

On those nights it almost wasn’t worth it. The feeling of being close to Billy, it was. Hard to talk to him. 

And it wasn’t like falling slowly. Through syrup or stacks of blankets, like his usual style, it was like. 

Getting in the car and driving way, into the night, with no map and no funds and no clue of what the end would look like. Steve fell hard and fast and slammed into the ground until he was one with the molten earth, on the good nights, too. When Billy grinned and cracked jokes and fuckin’. Winked. 

So. The good outweighed the bad. For months, for millennia, it seemed. Until Steve couldn’t remember a time when midnight didn’t signal the arrival of love. And he would take it, anything, everything, for just a peak at the person he knew was hidden under all that hairspray and chiseled skin, so.

When Billy showed up one night with his car packed full of shit, Steve grabbed his coat without a word.

What are you doin’, Harrington.

I’m coming with you.

No you aren’t, that’s not. Look. I just came to say goodbye, so.

Not that easy to get rid of. 

Billy tried to fight him, tried to. Hold him off, or something. Like any force in the fucking universe would be strong enough to keep them apart. 

Steve made a face.

And Billy knew what that face meant so he cleaned out the passenger side of the Camaro. Stupid shit like lamps and folded quilts, shuffling it all to the back seat where there was clearly enough space. 

It was almost like. He had known what Steve would do. 

It was like he’d been preparing to say no, baby. I don’t have enough room, see? I’m saddled with more than I can take already, and I just--

Almost like he was hoping Steve would insist, anyway, and.

“Go pack a bag, pretty boy.”

Steve would follow him anywhere.

--

Billy came alive in California. The bad nights stopped existing out in the open air, they hid instead. Under the blanket of nightfall, under the sling of Steve’s arm. They paid extra for a two bedroom apartment on the beach, because.

I’m not expecting you to. Sleep in my bed, Steve.

Right. They were still pretending. 

The second bedroom sat collecting dust. Steve emptied his trash bag of essentials into the dresser in Billy’s room, because. The love was constantly ruining his shirts, these days. 

Steve bled blue and gold. Blatantly. Because he never felt it before, this. Feeling. Like the sand is being washed from his skin. Like he’s curling up in bed after a long day of hard work.

Billy makes him feel that way, so.

Steve can’t hide it. And he doesn’t try to. Not when they watch cartoons together on the couch, not when Billy sucks a hole into his neck under their blanket in their bed and asks, we goin’ steady? Like it’s even a fucking question, or something, but.

Steve realizes they went backwards. Won the game before actually learning the rules. 

Do you wanna go on a date with me? He asks one morning. It’s raining, so Billy isn’t surfing and Steve isn’t sketching out on the porch, and. 

It seems as good a time as any.

Billy has milk running down his chin when he looks up, eyes so blue and wide like he never expected it to fucking happen. Isn’t this a date?

What?

Right now, Billy says through a mouthful of Lucky Charms. We’re eating. Alone. Making eyes at each other over our meal--

Steve snorts. This isn’t a date.

And Billy’s face, fucking. Falls. He rinses his plate in the sink and kinda, doesn’t turn back around. Steve doesn’t know how he fucked it up already. 

Bills?

What’s a date look like then? And that. Makes Steve laugh. 

You’ve been on, like. So many dates, baby. 

Not with you. Billy says flatly. When he turns around again his cheeks are pink. Not from laughter, but. From something else. I never went on any dates with you, so. How would I identify one in a crowd.

And Steve knows. Instantly, knows he’s not going to get out of this one. 

Perfect first date shit, alright, I can. I can do that.  He leans back in the hideous avocado green chair Billy picked out and. Sucks on his bottom lip. We have the day free. Because, um. It’s the off season. Right after labor day and, uh. The shop’s getting ready to shift into winter. 

Billy grins. So in your perfect scenario we’re broke?

Listen, asshole wouldja just--

Alright, baby. Billy sits in the chair across from him and looks, fucking. So pretty in Avocado Green. I’m listening. 

So Steve tells him. Their perfect date begins and ends with ease, it’s as simple as breathing. The way it’s always been for them. Natural. Steve packs a basket with a goddamn. Charcuterie board and like, fresh fruit and shit. The sun sets and Steve gets down on one knee and--

Our first date is a picnic. On a beach..under the stars? Billy doesn’t look even a little bit like laughing, not. Not when his nose goes all bunchy. Have you swallowed a romance novel? Do I need to call a doctor?

Steve isn’t really in the mood for jokes. 

He covers his face with his hands, because. They went backwards. Never even put labels on it, or second guessed anything because Steve won the lottery. That night when the high fives went up in smoke, he. 

Got everything he ever wanted.

Billy tugs at his wrists. Yanks and soothes and rearranges Steve’s skin until they’re chest to chest against avocado green. His eyes are teary. Fuck.

I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby. Steve says. ‘S a bad idea anyhow, too much pressure. You mean a lot and I fuckin’. Made you cry. Tears were never a part of the deal.

Billy lets Steve wipe his cheeks and then he’s smiling. 

Not grinning or smirking or teasing, but. Happy. We could make this a date.

Steve shrugs. Yeah, I guess we could.

Pack some sandwiches, sit on the patio. Billy winks. Just like all those nights when neither boy could give their emotions a name. Take away some of the pressure. 

I kinda dig the pressure, though.

Were you really gonna get down on one knee? Billy whispers. At the end of our first date? You know the statistics on divorce are--

Against his will, Steve’s chucking. 

And on the first date? Billy tuts, cheeks pink again. You know I don’t put out for any ol’ pair of brown eyes, Harrington. I wait until at least the fourth date.

It’s been five years. 

So marry me. Billy says. On Tuesday or something, we can. Go to the beach or whatever. Elope. 

And. 

Just like that night. With the Camaro stuffed to the brim, and Billy gripping his fingers like a lifeline in a storm, Steve has no choice. He never did, because. Yeah.

He kisses Billy, each cheek, both eyelids, before carrying him to their bedroom and wonders. If they’ll ever start at the beginning.

[sleepfight]

Bart’s Tattoo

I’m still on my first rough-draft so this is still a little messy and bare bones but since I’m posting more Bart art, I thought I’d share a little excerpt from my fic where Bart tells Uri the story behind his desert rose tattoo.

Uri belongs to @iigoeyei! TW for referenced child abuse, internalized ableism, mental health issues, and alcohol consumption  

Uri knocks back the last of his beer and crushes the can in his fist before chucking it blindly into the flatbed of his truck behind them.  

“What about this one?” He asks and hooks a finger into the collar of Bart’s hoodie so that he can tug it down, exposing the soft, pink petals of the tattoo on his neck. “It looks older than your other ones.”

Bart looks down at his feet as they swing below him, restless hands fidgeting with his own beer. He’s quiet for a moment, trying to think of how he can condense the story of this tattoo in a way that won’t leave them parked in the oppressive humidity all night, but he doesn’t think Uri would mind if they did. That’s why Uri is one of Bart’s favorite people; he has an abundance of patience regardless of whether Bart is going a million miles a minute or has been paralyzed by silence.

He drops one shoulder so that he can pull his shirt down further, letting Uri have a better look. The tattoo is one of his oldest but the colors are still vibrant and the shades of blended pink and yellow stand out against his otherwise chalky complexion like a rash; a flash of something beautiful somewhere it doesn’t belong. 

“It’s a desert rose,” Bart murmurs while Uri tilts his head closer and scrutinizes the small flower. “When I was a kid, we had a neighbor who was really into nature-mysticism and shit. Lynn-Marie Porter. She used to watch me and my sister sometimes after church and she’d make us help her in the pastor’s garden, picking weeds and stuff like that. She made us memorize different types of plants and flowers and what they meant.”

“You mean like if they were poisonous?” Uri asks.

“No, like what they represented. Spiritually, or whatever.” 

“And there were desert roses in the garden, I take it?”

“No.” Bart scowls and stares at the ground. He doesn’t like telling this story, it makes him feel stupid. 

“I was always--I was a different kid,” he says, voice low enough that it can’t carry with the sound of croaking frogs or rustling catkins in the pond, content to keep this between Uri and himself. “My parents took me to all kinds of doctors but they gave up after a few years and everybody in town knew it. Most of ‘em just accepted I wasn’t right and let me be but just as many people tried to stick their noses in with ‘advice’ on how to fix me.”

Bart licks at his dry lips. “Miss Porter was one of those people. She kept telling my mom to hang a dreamcatcher above my bed or that she should put echinacea under my tongue before I went to sleep. One time, I got in trouble for yelling during Sunday service which is something dad would normally slap me around for but Miss Porter took me outside before he could. Sat me down in the garden and told me I had to start behaving properly if I wanted to stay welcome in God’s house.”

Uri’s brow wrinkles in distaste and he blows a long, exasperated sigh out of his nose. “Fuckin’ hell, church sucks,” he grumbles, reaching into the cooler for a fresh beer.

"You're named after an archangel, dude, I don't think you're allowed to say that," Bart smiles crookedly.

There was a time he enjoyed going to church, back when he still thought belief would be the refuge he needed from his own mind. Back when he was little and his ‘eccentricities’ were accepted as normal growing pains and the pastor would still reassure Bart and his parents that God’s love was eternal and unconditional; before the congregation started to view him as a troublesome distraction to be hidden in the back row where the good word barely reached his ears. 

“She told me I needed to find a desert rose and carry it with me wherever I went,” Bart continues after a long moment wherein Uri slurps loudly at his Budweiser and Bart picks the skin around his fingernails. 

“Said that a desert rose would help my brain be quiet and would help me--” he grimaces, almost a flinch. It all sounds so absurd now that he is an adult. “That it would make me understand my emotions and give me serenity.”

“So you got one tattooed?”

“Not at first,” Bart shakes his head. “I didn’t know what a desert rose looked like but I spent all summer looking for one. Got in more trouble rooting around in people’s lawns than I ever did fucking around in church.” 

Bart huffs a laugh, eyes unfocused on the horizon and setting sun. “I hunted everywhere. Broke into hardware stores, backyards… even took a bus all the way to Billings once because I heard MSU had a greenhouse but they wouldn’t let me in.” 

His hands flex around the can he holds and Bart scowls, familiar anger bubbling in his throat along with the equally intimate feelings of shame and inadequacy that are always resurrected when he thinks about his old life. 

“I thought if I could just find one, then all my problems would be solved and I’d get all my old friends back. That I would be normal for as long as I could hang onto it. I was completely obsessed.”

Uri smirks and nudges Bart’s ribs with his elbow, a good-natured jostle that pulls Bart back to the present. “Some things never change, huh?” He teases. “Did you ever manage to get your hands on one?”

“Naw,” Bart sighs. “When I was sixteen, I found a picture in a field guide and convinced my sister’s boyfriend to tattoo it for me. I figured that would be the next best thing if I couldn’t get a real one.”

Now comes the part of this story Bart hates telling and he yanks the zipper of his hoodie back up his neck despite the sweltering temperature. “I found out a few years later that she wasn’t even talking about flowers. A desert rose is a type of fuckin’ rock that hippies use to meditate with or some shit. I got a stupid flower tattoo for nothing.”

Uri leans back on his palms and considers Bart from beneath his eyelashes, brown eyes glowing amber in the dying light. His expression, so open and non-judgmental, makes Bart’s stomach churn. 

“Y’know,” Uri drawls. “I don’t know much about spirituality or however you’d define this kind of thing but I’m pretty sure it’s not the object that counts so much as your belief and conviction in what it does.” He claps a wide palm in the center of Bart’s back. “You were just a kid, misinterpreting the message is nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Yeah, well.” Bart drains his lukewarm beer in a few quick gulps and throws the can as far away from himself as he can manage, watching it sail into the approaching shadow of the treeline. “Belief obviously wasn’t enough because I’m still--” he points at his own ear and mimes a spiral with his finger, the universal sign for cuckoo-crazy. 

Uri’s face falls. “Bart,” he prods gently.

Bart shakes his head and pulls his hood up over his hair, burying himself beneath his clothes again before hopping off the hood and crossing to the passenger-side door. 

“I have shit to do tonight,” he grumbles and folds his exhausted body into the cab before Uri can stop him. “Take me home.”

[rockstar-tay]

https://music.apple.com/us/album/calm/1497416763

https://open.spotify.com/album/0vX2Jo5xhltAA7kVdW2hwO?si=q26GTqdWRxOOLZPBOSvUOQ

It’s been three whole days since 5SOS released their fourth album CALM. I mean technically I guess like four since the band hosted a live listening party via insta.

Can we talk about that for a minute because it was ACTUALLY REALLY FUCKIN COOL! I tuned in like right at 9 PST, and Ash was already on there. He said some stuff, and then he played the first side of the vinyl. He actually like walked away from the camera which I thought was kinda weird at first, but then I definitely think it was to help take away any distractions from people just focusing on watching him or something. Personally I was listening with my eyes closed, and headphones in and I swear it sounded like he has subs because the bass was HITTIN. Anyways then later Calum took over (with lag of course), and invited Michael and then Luke. Watchin them react to the songs just made it feel so personal. Ugh. I hope they and other artists do it in the future.

K so before listenin to this album I was definitely a fan of the guys. I got a tattoo a couple of months ago and one of their songs came up on the artist’s Spotify so I started talking to her about them. She called them “my boys” when another song came up like an hour later (and I died inside). But yeah. I’ve liked them since... holy fuck 2014!? How has it been 6 years already!?!!?

CALM just feels so different from anything they’ve done before, and every fan is HERE FOR IT! Honestly I kinda feel like I’m gonna talk about every track because YO this album has crazy diversity when it comes to sound. Lyrically too like you can tell their perspective of life and of situations that happen has changed from how they would’ve done it earlier in their career.

🌟 Red Desert - With how they’ve layered the vocals of the opening chorus I immediately think “Beatles vibes” but then the beat comes in, and I’m like. Hm okay.. how did they get that transition to work?? Then towards the end of the song before the final chorus plays there’s a bridge with like a techno/edm kinda beat behind everything else. Like I don’t understand how they got all of that flow in one song but they fuckin did it. I actually find myself humming this one the most throughout the day compared to any other song.

🌟 No Shame - This one has been out as a single for a minute. Think I’ve posted about a fan theory of the meaning so I won’t go into it again. But in short if you didn’t see that post: it’s a bop.

🌟 Old Me - UGGGGHHHH THE GROOVE DURING THE VERSES MAKES ME WANNA BOUNCE AND SING ALONG! Every. Damn. Time. And this chorus like how can that not tug at your heart strings.

🌟 Easier - This ones another single that was out before the record dropped. Honestly it confused tf outta me when I first heard it. It sounded so.. synthy (p sure that’s not a word) to me, and just so different from what I thought they could sound like. There’s absolutely no denying how catchy it is tho and how can you not hum that melody?

🌟 Teeth - I DEFINITELY feel like this should’ve been on the stranger things soundtrack but I GUESS 13 Reasons is fine. goddamn Luke’s vocals... I could rant about that for a while. Anyway it’s totally a song that would get a crowd movin, and I can’t wait to see videos of when they play it live (if that even happens now #thanksrona #stayhomestayhealthy)

🌟 Wildflower - I typically do not notice lyrical content when I first listen to a song. Idk what it was about this one but I noticed two things immediately. One - Cal is takin lead vocals in this one. Two - that this songs about having a bomb-ass physical relationship with someone.

🌟 🌟Best Years - i mean Luke posted him singing it on IGTV already so luckily I didn’t cry as much when I heard it for the second time ever during the listening party. This literally is designed to be a wedding song. Michael and Crystal absolutely need to play it at theirs. You know what? Luke and Sierra too. (Lord I really don’t wanna add pressure to them but WE ALL SEE YOURE IN LOVE AND PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER SO PUT A RING ON IT ALREADY)

🌟 🌟Not In The Same Way - The fuckin hip hop-ish beat that’s goin on during the verses is the number one thing that got this one in my top 5 of the album. Plus dear lord if this doesn’t describe my love life idk what does.

🌟🌟 Lover of Mine - So with this one the first time around I just focused on how the overall like tone of the song seems to be soothing but sad all at once. Then the next time I listened to the words closely and jeeeeeesus. Right in the heart.

🌟 Thin White Lies - I really keep trynna call this one Thin White Lines. Anyways.. I hate how many songs they have a sick beat to on this album. It makes it LITERALLY impossible to not nod your head with it.

🌟 Lonely Heart - I really can see them playin this live, and havin a crowd of you know at least 8,000 singing back “Lonely it ain’t nothin new, nothin new to me, nothin new to you.” And it gives me chills.

🌟🌟High - Okay first of all shoutout to all the stoners out there. 🤘🏼🖤 But for fuckin real we all have one to five people we always think about when we get fucked up, or are just in our feelins for a minute. “I hope you think of me high. I hope you think of me highly. When you're with someone else.”

It’s weird that I feel so happy for them, and proud of them at the same time? I don’t even know the dudes but their lyrics are so fuckin mature and well thought out. From how they’re articulatin everything I’d swear they’re older than me, but I’ve got a couple years on ‘em. Just honestly they did a great job with this album and I can’t wait to hear more interviews of them talkin about it.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The Rock angel shines; Queen x reader

Hello people and beyond. Well like I promised here is the first part of my Rock Angel series.  So for those who have asked to be tagged I have you up, let me know if it doesn’t work and I’ll try to fix it as best I can. I hope you all enjoy this and have some warmly big brother feels with this chapter. Not really any warnings except for some mild swearing, scars (not suicidal but of this triggers you this is a warning for you) and TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF.

Taglist (open):

@phantom-fangirl-stuff

@mr-badguymercury

@onebigfangirlworld

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@naturalswifty89

_______________________________________________________________

April 20th, 1982

Frank Bough was hosting his Breakfast time interview discussing the next rising star of Britain.

“We first saw her make her big debut at a Queen concert at Madison Square Garden last year and ever since then she’s been recording her first album which will be released at the start of summer. Her biggest single ‘Set it all free’ took her to the charts as the youngest performer at 19 years old. Let’s have a listen.”  What would then play on the television was the newly made music video for “Set it all free”.

(Y/n) was on the guitar in the same attire she wore that day at Madison Square garden, her hair this time was dyed a blood red as the chorus of “Set it all free” was being sung.  As (y/n) would rock out in one shot, in another she was wearing normal clothes trying to escape the confines of what appeared to be a jailcell she would constantly beat against the walls trying to escape but then cry every now and then.

“(Y/n) (l/n) welcome to the show.”

“Oh Frank it’s an honor to be here, how are you?” I asked as I leaned up against the couch and extended my hand out to him.

“I’m doing well and you?” he said as we both shook hands.

“Fine thank you.”

“Well you have truly made a name for yourself, the Rock Angel tell me where did that name come from? Did you come up with it yourself?”

“No I’m terrible at coming up with names” I joked out as I laughed. “It was actually Freddie who came up with the name Rock Angel. Back when I was helping them and when I told them that I had written songs and played music he’d always just call me their little ‘Rock Angel’.”

“Now when you say, ‘work for them’, how do you mean?”

“I was an intern for Jim Beach.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. At the time he was asking for interns at my University and I was one of probably hundreds of other young kids to apply and by some miracle I was picked and the rest is history.”

“Now on your album ‘Set it all free’ you also include Queen on a couple of your tracks. Is that because of your history with them?”

“I love my boys so much. When it was fully announced that I was to make my first full length album after my single was released, they were so supportive and happy for me. And actually it’s a sweet story, I was recording my album at Rockfield studios, the same place where they recorded their hit Bohemian Rhapsody as well as the rest of their Night at the Opera album. And while I was recording they just suddenly popped in for a visit…..”

*November 11th, 1981*

I have been here at Rockfield studios for the past six weeks now recording my first album ‘Set it all Free’. Now I began to understand why Fred said they needed to be away from all distractions to record A Night at the Opera, because out here with all the country side, the fresh air, never have I felt such creativity flow through me.

I mean sure I’ve hit a couple of speedbumps and obstacles when it came to some songs but after feeding the chickens and riding the horses, I would suddenly get inspired.

I was currently in the studio now doing my latest song that I’ve titled “Who I am”.  I had completed the guitar and vocal portion of my song and now I was recording the drums.

Now I know what you’re thinking? Why are you doing all the work? Why hasn’t a band come in and help you with the percussions?  Well the answer to that is because of the sudden reservation I had made with it being the autumn season now, no one wanted to risk driving along the roads to the studio so living at the studio is just me, Mack and a couple handlers just to keep an eye on me.

Using the lessons that Rog has given me, I twirled my sticks and began doing the rhythm I had in mind.  After the first half of the song was done, I stopped and flexed my hands and I said.

“How’d it sound Mack?”

“Come out and have a listen.” I took off my headphones and left the booth as Mack played the first half of the song back to me.  I bopped my head up and down as my voice came up for a brief moment before I heard the strum of my guitar.  The whole song so far sounded good and I said.

“Sweet, okay play it from the second verse.” He gave me a thumbs up and I went back into the recording booth and quickly put the headphones back on and as I gave him the signal that I was ready, I began the next verse of the songs for the drums.

We kept going with the song until it was perfect and as I had Mack play back to me the entire song, I got goosebumps all up along my arms and shivers up my spine.  I did a successful ‘Deacy’ dance as I was happy for the song.

“Love it, I fuckin love it!” I praised.

“Sounds good love, why don’t you take a break now love?”

“Mack my deadline is fast approaching and I still got three songs to do, plus one of my songs that’s already been recorded is still missing something. I can’t afford a break.”

“But you’ve been hard at it for the past week with no break love, if you don’t slow down your fingers will bleed out and your arms will pop out.”

“I’m fine Mack.”

“Doesn’t sound like it love,” I froze right there in my spot. Mack looked just as surprised as I was, when I turned around there stood my boys.

Freddie, Brian, Roger and John.

“Oh my god….what—what are you lot doing here?”

“Well we heard our little Rock Angel would be here, so we’d thought we’d check on her to see just how her first big album is coming along.”

“And it’s a good thing we did, cause from what we just heard, you’ve been over working yourself, haven’t you love?” Brian asked using is dad voice.

“No” I said shamefully kicking my foot around as I avoided looking at them.

“Then let us see your hands.” John stated using his dad voice.

Damnit.  Now I knew there was no escaping this lie this time.  Truthfully my hands were heavily imprinted with both base and normal guitar strings, and my palms were scarred and cracked from the drumsticks.

“(Y/n) (l/n) show us your hands” demanded Roger.  I sighed and held them out palms down.  Both Roger and Bri took my hands and flipped them over and they were all horrified at how extreme they were.

“Love do you know how serious this could’ve been?” stated John.

“Based on these string imprints, any longer and you could’ve damaged a nerve allowing you to not be able to feel a note again.” Brian answered.

“And your palms, you’re lucky these scars don’t need stitches, not to mention they are as dry as the desert.” Hearing the boys say this made me rethink a little bit on how strict I’ve been to keeping my schedule.

“I’m sorry guys. It’s just that—my deadline is in a couple of weeks and with it just being me and no one else willing to travel this far up north during this time I….I had to work three times as hard as I am just a soloist and I didn’t just want my songs to be recorded separately from what I’ve already delivered through singing. You guys get what I’m saying right?” They all looked at me and Deacy said.

“We do love, but we also understand when we need to step away and not strain ourselves to the point of almost losing the limbs that need to be required in order to play them.”

“And don’t take offense to this darling but you look like shit at the moment.” Freddie stated.

“Oh gee thanks Fred.” I sassed sarcastically.

“What Freddie means is that you look so exhausted. When was the last time you had a proper sleep?”

“I’ve tried to get my daily 8 hours but so far I haven’t.”

“And what about a decent meal?”

“I had a big breakfast earlier this morning before we started recording.”

“But that was hours ago.” Mack piped in. I turned and glared at him but he explained to the guys, “In fact that usually all you would eat minus a piece of fruit, a granola bar or some water to stay hydrated.”

“Thank you Mack” I sneered at him.

“Alright. (Y/n) you need to take the rest of today plus tomorrow off, you are running yourself ragged at this point. You need a proper meal, some rest, and all the pampering you deserve.” Roger said.  One look at these boys and I knew I wasn’t going to win. So I gave in and told them.

“Alright, I fold. Take me away.” I was then taken out of the studio picked up bridal style by Roger and taken back towards my room.

John unfolded the sheets from my bed and Roger put me in and John tucked me back in.

“Anything in particular you would like me to cook up?” Roger asked.

“I’ve been kinda craving for Tikka Masala. But you don’t have to make it if you don’t want to.”

“Nonsense, I’ll get right on it.” He kissed my head before leaving my bedroom.  Deacy came back with a first aid kit and he said to me.

“Okay give me one of your hands, love.” I handed him my right one since it was closer to him.  He took out the rubbing alcohol and some cotton swabs and he began to lightly dab around my palms which made me wince in pain.  “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, not your fault. It’s mine. You all were right, I’ve been overworking myself.”

“You have such dedication poppet, that’s the first thing that I noticed about you. But it is always best to take a break. You’re already a star to us and to the world. And you always will be, don’t let the pressures and stress of this business affect you, otherwise we’ll lose our Rock Angel forever.” I looked up at John and nodded.

He paused his doctoring and looked straight in my eyes and softly smiled before leaning forward and pressing his forehead against mine. I smiled softly as his nose bumped up against mine in an Eskimo kiss before he kissed it and went back to doctoring my hands.

Once they were bandaged up John adjusted my pillows and soon Brian came up and he said.

“How are things up here?”

“Well I’m officially the mummy’s wife” I joked as I raised up my bandaged palms.  The two of them chuckled then Brian came in and he sat down beside me as he handed me a cuppa of Jasmine tea.

“Your favorite, just how you like it.”

“Thanks Bri,” I took the mug and took a small sip and hummed in content.

“Dinner is served madam.” Freddie gestured as Roger came in with a tray with my meal, plus a plate of cracker, and some ham and cheese sandwiches.

“You guys really did go the full yard of pampering.” I said as the tray was sat down in front of me.

“All the best for our little angel.” Freddie said as he gingerly took one of my hands and kissed my fingers, his tache lightly tickling them. I then began eating my masala and my taste buds had died and gone to heaven.

“Oh my god, Rog this is…..this is incredible.”

“Thank you darling, of course I had help from Fred here.” I thanked them both and continued eating.  I would occasionally dip the crackers into the masala for a little kick.  I then moved to the sandwiches before finally feeling so full I felt like I was going to burst.

“Ohh that was so good,” Brian gathered my now empty tea mug and placed it on top of the tray and he took it back down to the kitchen.

Once he came back, I noticed he had actually brought up one of the acoustic guitars.  Probably the one I may have left in the kitchen one time just to practice my chords and experiment with a song.

“Alright now that that belly of yours is full, its time you got some sleep.” Freddie said.  Brian strummed on the guitar and I said.

“You guys are gonna sing me to sleep?”

“What better way, with the way your little brain has been buzzing lately, it needs a sedative. Allow us to be that sedative you need.” Brian then began to play notes to “Love of my Life”.  Even without a piano, it still sounded just as beautiful as Freddie began to sing the song.

I adjusted myself to lay down on the bed as Fred kept singing the song and soon the rest of the guys joined in on the backup vocals.  Their voices harmonizing so beautiful which soothed my mind and I began to relax and shut my eyes.

“The next day after just hanging around the farm, in thanks for all that they’ve done I asked them if they’d be interested in being featured in my album, at first they were hesitant but I managed to convince them and so we got to recording once my hands were better of course. And as for the song I had a problem with, it was fixed up when I decided to make one version of the song just me singing, and then the same song featuring Queen, which to be honest I prefer the latter’s version.”

“So what’s up next for you?”

“Well I’m gonna take a summer vacation but then get ready for my first ever European tour.”

“Well, all the best of luck to you. (Y/n) (l/n)’s album hits the shelves this summer and you can catch her up in her upcoming tour. We’ll be right back after these messages.” With that we went off the air.

After my interview I was back at my flat and collapsed into my couch after having to wake up at 4am just to get to the station and get ready for that interview.  Just before I went back to sleep, my phone rang and I groaned as I answered it.

“Hello.”

‘We saw your first television debut love.’ I heard Brian’s voice say on the other end.

“Did I screw up?”

‘You were perfect darling, and the press won’t hold anything against you. Well done love.’ I heard Roger’s voice say.

“Thanks lads, well I’m bloody exhausted these past few months have been brutal, I’m getting some sleep and sleeping until supper time.”

‘Alright love, you deserve the rest. Rog and I will pop in on you later to make sure you aren’t oversleeping too much.’

“Okay, good day guys.”

‘Sleep well love.’ I heard them both say. With that I hung up the phone and fell right asleep there on my couch.

[altaieu]

please refrain from reb/0gging

as im watching the dark skies shift to blues, the sun is rising on a household with one less kitten in it today. i can see no stars out.

amber died yesterday.

we took her home on friday, neck tube in and accompanied by medicine, after a 9 day stay in the hospital. we were going to try our hardest to help her get get better. we’d been making plans the entire time what we’d do with her when she was healthy again; that we’d definitely let them out next more next summer and make certain the garden had no places for pests, that i’d play with them even more than i did now, that we’d get them all health insurance. we bought her the cat bed we’d been lingering over at the store to make sure she had a very comfy spot to recover in. i’d woken up late on friday but i helped my sister with feeding her, giving her medicine. i was prepared to stay up all day saturday to help.

but she hadn’t closed here eyes since she’d come home, and what my sister thought was her sleeping - nictitating membranes half closed, paws twitching like she was dreaming - maybe have been a seizure in retrospect. though she took everything well, at 7 am she was having breathing problems. she was laying sideways on the floor with her little tongue sticking out, eyes half closed. we woke everyone up. we rushed her back to the hospital immediately. we talked about putting her down, and i’m sad we didn’t in retrospect, but we had never lost a cat before and we were so hopeful she could still turn around - twice while she was at the hospital she’d perked up and looked for all intents and purposes that she was recovering. she was such a strong, healthy cat before all this happened, it was hard to think she could just go like that, but as it happened it was just complication after complication that hit her. so we held off to give her the weekend, said if she didn’t look better, we’d be back to sign the papers.

it was not even 5 hours after we’d left her there that we got the call, around 1:30 pm. she’d nosedived suddenly and they tried to resuscitate her to no success - something my sister had said yes to out of reflex, but was going to phone tomorrow to say not to do, to just let her go. we went back and saw her little body. my sister cradled her in her arms, and every time she shifted in her seat amber’s fuzzy ears swayed just a bit and i kept expecting her to shake it off, wake up, blink up at us with those big, warm, adoring eyes she always had. her head was as cold as the wind outside when i pet her and i feel as if the chill hasn’t left my hand.

now my brain keeps playing that still face against those late night/early morning memories of her jumping up on my bed and my desk, smiling at me with that big wide happy mouth, bumping her head against mine and against the curtain until i’d open it and she could look out and she’d wiggle her big fluffy butt right between me and my monitor. her tail would always be straight up as she watched the shifting shadows beyond the glass and she purred like an orchestra. then she’d sit on my lap and make the cutest face at me, and i’d pet her a little, but because she always seemed to do this when i was absorbed in writing or art i’d pat her butt until she got annoyed and leapt off, skittering out of my room and down the stairs with the noise of a horse. i’d always felt a little guilty after that, and last time, in damn november, i’d made the promise to myself that next time she came to visit i’d let her sit on me and cuddle up as long as she wanted. it’s been barely 15 hours and already i miss seeing that fuzzy face pop up from behind my desk, that fluffy butt jogging out of my room. amber, i’m so sorry i booted you away when you were lonely in the mornings and just wanted to give and receive love from me.

there’s so many things i wish we did in retrospect (in retrospect, in retrospect). i wish i had pushed harder for a vet appointment when i first saw her so listless, but i always differ to my sister and she said she had no money for it. i wish we’d gotten all our cats health insurance so it wouldn’t have been as big of a cost as it was, that we wouldn’t have been so hesitant about a vet appointment in the first place. i wish i had convinced my sis to put her down when we were there in the mornning so she could have passed away in the arms of someone she loved surrounded by people she cared about instead of laying her head against the side of a small metal cage because we were too scared to let go of her. i’m so sorry amber, we did you so wrong.

when we were there in the morning a man came in after us, an old old man who looked to be in his eighties or so. he was there about a cremation for his african grey parrot who’d passed away the night before. he had a south african accent, and i heard him talking about how he’d been with the bird for forty seven years, that he’d found it abandoned by someone else. i saw him and an old woman bawling in the parking lot afterwards. looking back i should have taken it as an omen.

when we got back to the house the first time, around 11:30 in the morning, the cats were going crazy. all three were trying to get into my room. i wanted nora to stay out so she could comfort my sister, but maggie stood on my desk for 15 minutes staring with that kitty love face and headbutting me before she fell asleep on the bed by my feet. sassy, meanwhile, was absolutely losing it, running around the house and yelling with her unique, loud “mryow” sounding vocalization, eyes wide. should have taken it as an omen.

its weird to wake up at 3 am today to three cats. a time in the morning when i know amber would’ve come to visit, given her health back. its weird to walk down and not see her stretch her big fuzzy yellow belly into a croissant shape. i miss running around the house with the knotted shoelace and having her run after me at top speed, catching it and then running along with me as its in her mouth. i miss her closing eyes as you brushed her mane. i miss that little orange spot she wore on her head like a jewel.

i don’t think i can do anything downstairs without getting choked up about how she’d lie across my legs as i did anything. i don’t think i can get back to playing spyro or watching xfiles since she was there like that the whole time for those. i don’t think i can pick up arkham knight or aco again since i’d sit out in the middle of the floor for those and she’d come up behind me and bump my back, sit on my blanket, lay across one of my legs as i played.

i worry about my sister who cannot even lie in her bed without remembering amber there, sleeping on a pillow beside her, hugging her with all her legs. that cat got her through an abusive relationship and countless depressive episodes and the inherent trauma of being trans in a world that really doesn’t want you to live.

but like whether she’s in kitty heaven as my parents would prefer to think, or she’s my sister’s little spirit guardian now, or if there’s a kitten born on this day that might cross our paths again and bump our legs and look up, i hope she’s doing good. she deserves that at least, she was the sweetest cat i ever met and she should have got more than we could give her.

i feel bad for the hospital staff too. in her stay there she charmed everyone who crossed her path and they were all rooting so hard for her to pull through. one of the vets had her out in her office walking around for exercise on one of the days she was very perky, seemingly recovering. the one we interacted with yesterday was too kind, waiving the fees for the resuscitation attempts and refunding us the 700 we put down for the next few days of care that wouldn’t come to pass. i mean, we’d already dropped 9k on her and were fully prepared to spend 1k more for that fighting chance of a weekend - and of all the things we regret that is not one of them, even if i know a thousand people who’d call us fucking idiots for it. no cent spent trying to keep her alive was a waste. between all of us, even if we had to go into debt, it was the least we could do. we put aside those hopeful dreams of actually owning a house for her, and all my daydreams of introducing them to the new place.

but that 9k could have been reduced to 4.5k (over the 8 years, putting into it each month) if we’d had health insurance on her. as much as that is, it’s tiny compared to what we just spent and would have given us the reassurance to take her to the vet the moment she got sick instead of worrying about money. please, if you have pets you care about, get them health insurance. here it’s 50 a month but that is nothing compared to the cost of vet bills even for routine checkups which it will cover 90% of, and it will give you the peace of mind that you can go to the vet whenever. the moment a pet starts acting unusual you should take them. even if its nothing, its better safe than sorry. complications can hit so fast and pile up.

i’ll be watching the other cats much more closely after this and - after i have my energy back, hopefully - i’ll follow through on that promise and pay them even more attention and get them even more toys. we’re gping to get them health insurance in january and we’re gonna spent the spring cleaning up the backyard to make it safer for the cats, just in case. when they get into the backyard in the summer, oh, its gonna be real fuckin strange not to see amber’s cute sandy coloured face under the lilac tree by the little pond. i still have photos of her from last summer and remember vividly making myself stupid in the grass to get those upward shots of her.

goodnight little lion. you had all the colours of the desert in you and all the love of the sweetest little earth angel, eager to share it. i wish we could have given you so many more years of care, eight was not enough and eleven is much too young for a kitty to go, but i hope you are warm and basking in sunlight wherever you are.

i could see no stars out until i looked behind the house. there, despite the heavy cloud cover on this overcast day, there is a single star shining brighter than i’ve ever seen before, right above us, right at the door.

[fingersinhisass]

DO ALL THE QUESTIONS FOR AL, MY FAVORITE, BELOVED, BEST BOY.

YES MA’AM OF COURSE MA’AM

1. what does music mean to them? what role does it play in their life? 

he likes it well enough, he’s always enjoyed dancing and is an incurable habitual whistler. the only songs that really have any deep meaning for him are probably the lullabies his mom would sing to him when he was just a lil’ kid, which have been passed down in his family for generations. (he 100% sings them to his own kids when he has them.)

2. if you were to hug them, what would they smell like?

pipe smoke with a hint of lavender. he keeps lavender sachets in all of his clothing drawers and his handkerchiefs all smell like it. his mom grows lavender on her farm so he picks some every time he visits

3. what’s their favorite food?

the simple, rich soup his mom would make in the winter on the rare times they had a bit of meat to spare, but also just soup in general. he’s fond of a good soup.

4. what’s their least favorite food?

porridge. yech. bad memories.

5. do they like nature? if they do, what’s their favorite natural setting (woods, beach, desert, lake, etc.)? 

he likes nature from a distance. he doesn’t like nature if it ruins his clothes. which is most of the time. generally he prefers to stay away from any sort of hiking or camping – he’s a city boy at heart – but he appreciates the beauty of the open fields around his mother’s farm.

6. what’s their most prominent personality trait?

he’s. he’s an idiot. an exceptionally charming, exceptionally kind idiot.

7. what’s their mbti?

jeez idk. i don’t even know my own mbti 

8. hogwarts house? 

probably gryffindor

9. d&d alignment?

neutral good

10. if they were in a modern high school clique (jocks, goths, hipsters, geeks, etc.), what would it be? why?

oof. he would hang out with the delinquents because at that age he was also a delinquent and also just. noticeably poor. he’d generally keep to himself but he’s got a pretty hot temper and i wouldn’t be surprised if he got into fights a lot over shit kids would say.

11. tea or coffee?

both? coffee for the caffeine if he’s working a case, tea for leisure and pleasure

12. dusk or dawn?

dawn. for some reason he strikes me as an early bird. but also the kind of person who stays up all night doing something they’re intensely focused on and getting no sleep? but when he is getting reasonable sleep, he likes to wake up early. he likes the sunrise

13. country or city?

city for sure. he likes his mom’s farm, but he went back to the city after he left the gang for a reason – it stole his heart a long, long time ago and he couldn’t stay away.

14. what do they do in their free time? do they have any hobbies?

al isn’t the kind of person who really has free time – he’s kind of a workaholic when it comes to his job since it’s intensely important to him. that being said, when he does have free time, he likes to read poetry and go see live performances in taverns, things like that. he’s a sap for a good romance story.

15. do they like animals? if they do, which ones?

he likes animals, but he’s terrible at keeping them. i think he had a big ferret in the campaign once that he stole???? no idea what happened to that

16. how are they in platonic relationships?

he has very few of those, considering his devotion to his job and his sketchy past. he’s the kind of person that’s liked by many but truly known by few – he’s outwardly charming and charismatic and a very likable person, but people who’ve known him for years realize frequently that they know next to nothing about him.

17. how are they in romantic relationships?

absolutely doting, sometimes to the point of suffocation for some people. he’s all about giving himself over to the relationship – when he does things he cares about, he puts himself into them totally and completely. he doesn’t halfass anything. he’s also an absolute hopeless romantic and a surprisingly eloquent poet, despite the fact that he’s not very smart, so he likes to shower his partners in little surprises and gifts and thoughtful love letters.

18. do they have any insecurities about themselves?

hoo boy. he considers himself a monster. full stop.

19. what’s their favorite genre of book or movie (if they like to read or watch movies)?

oh romance, hands down.

20. what would their dream vacation look like?

see: his and shaelle’s beach honeymoon tbh

21. how many hours of sleep do they get on average?

oh lord. between insomnia, nightmares, and and all-nighters for work, he is a bad sleeper. at best he gets maybe 2-5 hours; at worst he gets none. luckily he’s an elf, so. i don’t think technically they’re supposed to need to sleep? but fuck it, he needs to recharge SOMEHOW, so i say he needs sleep.

22. what is their body shape? are they trim or tubby? tol or smol?

he’s tall for an elf, about 5′10, 5′11. thin, wiry body with taut, lean muscle. shoulders a bit on the wider side and a trim waist. legs for fucking years, y’all. he hansom.

23. if you had to pick five words/phrases (objects, places, weather, etc.) to describe your oc’s aesthetic, what would you pick?

the curl of smoke from a pipe, a man’s silhouette outlined against a streetlight, the soft, warm ambient chatter and music of a bar, golden cufflinks and a sharply pressed suit, a purple ribbon tied around a roll of parchment with a flourish

24. do they hold onto grudges?

only if the wrongdoing was against someone he cares about 

25. are they fiscally responsible? or would they prefer spending with wild abandon?

having grown up in deep poverty, he tries his best to be frugal with his money. that being said, he is very, very weak to neckties and is absolutely an impulsive spender.

26. what’s their favorite kind of weather?

hot, lazy summer days and soft, mild spring evenings with just the slightest nip to the air

27. how old would they be if they didn’t know how old they are? (e.g., what’s their mental age?) 

oh jeez, that’s hard. he’s been through some fuckin shit. probably like. mid to late forties? or the elf equivalent of that. so a good fifteen to twenty elf years older

28. what’s their opinion of children? how are they around children?

he fucking ADORES children and gets along with them fantastically. he thinks they are incredible, fantastic little creatures and dreams of being a dad.

29. what’s their sexual orientation?

probably pansexual, with a bit of a preference for men, although he ends up marrying a woman.

30. what’s their favorite color?

any and all shades of purple.

31. what temperature would they prefer the room to be?

he runs a bit warm-blooded, so probably in the high sixties, but he’s also not one to pick a fight over the thermostat.

32. how mannered are they? how proper do they act?

he’s very, very lucky he’s so naturally charming. he was able to pick up on things very quickly once he started mingling with higher society, but he still is more inclined to dislike nobles simply because of his upbringing.

33. how do they dress?

very well, for within his budget. he’s a detective, so he’s not rich, but he’s certainly better off than he was as a child. still, he loves clothes and looking good, so he dresses like a gentleman as much as possible. he’s very fashionable.

34. which season do they prefer? why?

summer. lots of good childhood memories associated with it.

35. what is their “morning ritual”?

if he gets the chance to actually sleep through the night, he wakes up, makes himself some tea, washes his face, brushes his teeth, combs and styles his hair, chooses an outfit and puts it on, smokes his pipe and grabs a newspaper on the way out to work. otherwise he does all of that but without the waking up part and with very, very strong coffee instead of tea.

36. what is their “nighttime ritual”? 

on the nights he isn’t working a case into the wee hours of the morning, he takes a bath with a glass of wine and some poetry or a romance novel, then brushes his teeth, changes into his pajamas, and reads in bed until he feels ready to fall asleep.

37. have they ever had a one-sided crush?

no, actually. again, he is remarkably lucky he’s so goddamn charming. usually people he’s interested in tend to be interested right back. whether that goes past the initial mutual attraction is a different story.

38. do they like art? what form?

he’s very fond of music and writing, and admires paintings and illustrations as well

39. how do they read a book (if at all)? slowly, over the course of a few days, or within a few hours? do they sit, stand, lay down, all of the above?

usually he has to do his reading in the brief snippets of free time he can snatch up between work, so it can take him months to finish a fairly short book. he usually reads either in bed or on the loveseat in the living room of his apartment, and frequently falls asleep reading in both.

40. do they have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

oh yep. all sorts of stuff he regrets from his time as a thief/assassin. he’s literally got a whole selection of nightmares that like to replay themselves from night to night.

41. what would be their favorite subject in school? (e.g., English, Math, Science, History, Recess, etc.)?

oh english for sure, he has great appreciation for the written word

42. what physical features do they find attractive on other people?

kalsjdf;adjfklajsdklf idk. he likes shaelle’s hands and hair and neck – he finds them all very elegant and lovely and they’re probably written about in some of the letters he sends her, ngl.

43. are they patient or impatient? what situations would make them feel one or the other?

he’s generally pretty patient, especially when conducting investigations, but he has a very short fuse when it comes to people he perceives as committing an injustice or a wrongdoing. his sense of justice is very strong.

44. what is their opinion of authority?

sometimes it should be respected, other times it shouldn’t. it’s all circumstantial. usually based on whether he agrees with them or not.

45. what is their opinion of tradition?

he doesn’t have much tradition to speak of, other than the bit of elvish culture his mother passed on to him. it’s very important to him because he associates it with her.

46. are they into folklore and/or conspiracy theories? or do they think both are garbage?

he doesn’t really care about them either way, tbh.

47. if they were to have a “happy place” they retreated to in their mind during stressful/boring situations, what would that place be? what would be in it?

a comfortable study space with a crackling fireplace, full bookshelves, and a cozy armchair to read or fall asleep in.

48. what is one value they hold higher than any other, in others and in themselves? (e.g., loyalty, intelligence, compassion, responsibility, etc.)

probably compassion. like i said, he’s got a very strong sense of justice and cares deeply for the wellbeing of others, especially innocents.

49. what is/are their love language(s)?

gifts for sure

50. what is their opinion of cheese?

excellent. he enjoys a good cheese every now and again.

[betadunsparce]

What to do if you see the following snakes

(there will not be a Metal Gear joke in this post because that is too easy, also this isn’t a joke post)

Corn Snake (Southeastern USA)- unless you are a mouse, this little guy is completely harmless (if you are a mouse, I’m very proud of you for learning how to use a computer. Please avoid all snakes). A lot of people keep corn snakes as pets. The whole “Red on yellow, kill a fellow. Red on black, good for Jack” thing is about these guys. They’re nice. 

Milk Snake (Canada to Northern South America)- similarly to corn snakes, these guys are harmless. Again, they have red strips next to black stripes. These guys both look a lot like coral snakes (which are bad). Not all have this coloration, some look similar to copperheads, which gets them killed by humans a lot :(

Coral Snakes (worldwide)- these are the red on yellow snakes. They are venomous. While they are fairly venomous, they are also very shy and will not go out of their way to bite you. Just leave them alone. There is usually a shortage of coral snake antivenom because being bitten by one is so rare, so getting bitten by one can be very bad. “Old World” coral snakes (those not found in the Americas) do not have this coloration, and come in a variety of colors, so if you live outside of the Americas be sure to know what local venomous snakes look like.

Copperhead (Eastern Texas to Massachusetts)- copperheads are a type of “pit viper.” All pit vipers have triangular heads and are venomous, which is why most people associate triangle headed snakes with venom. They usually live in forest, and will only attack humans when threatened, but will not run away when they see one. This means that you should always be on the lookout for one so you can be the on that moves away if you see one. They are nocturnal during the summer, but are active during the day the rest of the year.

Rattlesnake (different species across North America)- another pit viper, rattlesnakes at least have the decency to let you know they’re around. Like copperheads, they live in forested areas. If you hear a rattle, leave the area. They can live in forest (like the Timber Rattlesnake on the east coast), the prairie (like the two unrelated species know as Prairie Rattlesnakes), or the desert (like the Sidewinders of Southern California).

Common Garter Snake (North America)- harmless, they couldn’t hurt you if they wanted to. These are nice guys to have around.

Tsuchinoko (???)- if you see this snake, give him some beer. He likes beer. Don’t tell anyone about him though. If he wanted people to know he was real he would make his presence known!

Common Water Snake (Ontario to Florida)- these guys live in the water (duh), and are not venomous, although they will still try to bite you if you get close to them. They have an anti-clotting agent in their saliva, but it doesn’t affect humans very much. DO pay attention if you see one, though, as you might have mistaken a cottonmouth for one.

Cottonmouth (Southeastern USA)- cottonmouths are constantly angry because they LOVE to scream but can’t make any noise. They take out this anger by swimming a lot and being very, very venomous. They aren’t as aggressive as they are depicted in pop culture (there is no such thing as an aggressive snake), but that doesn’t mean you should get near one.

California King Snake (West Coast USA) - these guys have a fuckin rad aesthetic going on. They’re harmless. This is the type of snake that you hang out with and talk about art, they’re gorgeous.

Gopher Snake (West Coast USA) - these guys look like rattlesnakes, but they aren’t venomous. If you see a snake on the west coast, its either a rattlesnake, a kingsnake, or this guy. A relative of the gopher snake called the bullsnake lives in Central USA, and is similarly harmless.

Western Black Snake (Central USA)- not venomous. They will bite if agitated though, and they are large enough that a bite will hurt. Like all snakes that are not raised as pets, its best to leave them alone!

[cyril-leonhearts]

Here's a challenge: EVENS for SakunYa and ODDS for Nyrine. Go fuckin' wild

 Sometimes I hate you, other times I loaf you

1) Nyrine’s name means something,, I hope,,, It was myrine with an n because we didn’t like the name myrine I think?? I can’t remember how her name came to be

2) SakunYa’s biggest insecurity is how she has to be likable and be friendly or else know one will like her and just get rid of her, it’s easy to exploit by saying you’re her ‘friend’ 

3) Nyrine prob likes how strong she gets? Like how she lost her baby fat and got some muscle 

4) SakunYa loves how gold is so shiny and has so much power  has no lover 

5) Nyrine is 15,, no sex prob shy tho

6) SakunYa has no lover, but she likes to count her money and invest in black market stuff which Loni does not like

7) Nyrine makes small noises at the back of her throat like the beginnings of an ‘oh my god’ but in Sussay

8) SakunYa’s greatest flaw is that she’s a coward and does not mind running from a fight to save her own skin. She’s very aware of it,. 

9) Nyrine is from Sussay, the summer continent, so her favorite song is... SUMMER!! Favorite holiday is probably a harvest festival since Sussay doesn’t have a lot of those (since its mostly desert) or something that celebrates rain

10) SakunYa is def feminine 

11) Nyrine would fly into a rage if you one) blamed her for the death of her family, 2) compared her to Arishant or called them similar, and 3) hurt her friends

12) SakunYa could not give up riding on the wind or her windwhistler attributes, she’d die without them

13) Nyrine in the beginning is a heavy sleeper as she’s used to sleeping as royalty, but has quickly become a light sleeper. Nyrine is def a blanket stealer and prob talks in her sleep. She once complained in her sleep about her sword being too bloody to hold and scared Ellah.

14) SakunYa mostly lives alone, but keeps her doors open for her ‘family’ like Loni. She loves being with other people.

15) Nyrine hates her older brother Arishant. 

16) SakunYa is the opposite of the athletic type despite always moving. She can barely walk anymore because she never uses her legs. 

17) Nyrine would like to have a family

18) SakunYa loves her home above the cafe, its a little small, but she doesn’t care

19) :) Nyrine will fight almost anyone. Due to Loni’s training she will win too

20) SakunYa likes animals, but wouldn’t keep one as a pet. She’d accidentally kill it due to neglect. Her fav animals are fluffy ones 

21) One of Nyrine’s biggest fears is the foxtrot five dying and Arishant winning.She does not react well at all, having nightmares and panic attacks at the very thought 

22)  SakunYa has the Windwhistler’s mark which is a weird cowlick of hair, but she doesn’t really have many other physical marks 

23) Nyrine originally didn’t care for lessons but did them anyways because she was royalty. Is very diligent and well-behaved. Does good in physical subjects and the arts 

24) SakunYa would describe gold as shiny and cool to the touch, although if you leave it in the sun it gets warm

25) Nyrine’s traumatic past is that her older brother Arishant killed their parents and then tried to assassinate her. 

26) SakunYa has no lover

27) If Nyrine were to be arrested lmao it’d be due to trying to overthrow the gov, attempted murder, treason, and much, much more

28) SakunYa’s already a celebrity :) she’d be known for her underhand, back table deals and helping a coup

29) Nyrine has defied death for her loved ones, she’s also picked up a sword and fought and rallied forces to help the other Foxtrot Five

30) SakunYa loves theater and plays, especially dramatic ones

31) Nyrine doesn’t like to kill, but if it’s necessary than she’ll do it

32) SakunYa’s dream date is a nice quiet dinner, watching a play or smth similar, then hanging out at night 

33) Nyrine if she wanted to be alone would go outside and roam the cities 

34) SakunYa likes sweets and baked breads with fruits. They were a rarity when she was growing up

35) Nyrine is afraid of death, especially violent death. She’d like to die old and in her sleep

36) SakunYa can’t walk or barely can because she never uses her legs. It doesn’t impact her daily life much because she can fly using the wind and float around 

37) Nyrine really doesn’t like when people eat with their mouth open, or has bad manners. She grew up as royalty and cannot stand that stuff

38) SakunYa likes stormy days when it’s really windy, but not raining. She likes cool weather as well

39) When people see Nyrine they see a defenseless girl, not a hardened war general. Assumption is incorrect 

40) SakunYa’s guilty pleasures is having guns despite them being outlawed. She likes shooting them

41) Nyrine’s family shaped her to who she is today, especially how they were murdered

42) SakunYa tends to leave the past in the past and looks forward

43) Nyrine tends to relax and be more honest with herself when with the other Foxtrot Five, but hides all weakness when not with them

44) If any of her friends died, SakunYa would die herself

45) Nyrine tries not to wear her heart on her sleeve, but does

46) SakunYa invades people’s personal space and hangs around them a lot when she likes them

47) Nyrine is quiet at first, but quickly becomes outgoing if she likes you. More likely to be the one who gets dragged along

48) SakunYa’s greed makes her jealous. If someone has something she likes and wants, she’ll take it

49) Nyrine has nightmares about her parent’s death and almost being assassinated as well as the battlefield

50) SakunYa would be extremely straight forward about it

[rinnahtheskinchanger]

REALLY  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.

RULES.  repost ,   don’t  reblog  !    tag  10  ! TAGGED BY: @celestialspitfire​ B|  TAGGING.   anyone who wants to torture themselves

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :   Rinnah  NICKNAME :   Rin, Rinrin, Puppy, Wolfy, Wolf, Pipsqueak, Half-pint, Furball, Fuzzball, Fluffy, etc. AGE :   19 BIRTHDAY :  August 31st ETHNIC  GROUP : Mixed blood (Dad has some of the Eastern blood in him, hence the lion), but she looks stereotypical white (Nordic, specifically) NATIONALITY :  Skin-changer (Nordic in modern/Earth) LANGUAGE / S :   Common Tongue/English, most animal languages SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :   Pansexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  Panromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Single and hoping to find someone that she can trust and love completely. Hasn’t had the best life, so having a stable, caring partner would do wonders to help her. CLASS : Skinchangers don’t really have classes, but she’s the granddaughter of the chief. Whether or not that’s recognized by the other denizens of Middle Earth really depends. I wouldn’t think that many hold her kind in high regard. Probably most think they’re savages, or something, really. HOME  TOWN / AREA : The Withered Heath, in the far North of Arda. CURRENT  HOME : She’s a wanderer, though whether its by nature or necessity is actually quite hazy. PROFESSION :   A hunter, guide, muscle for hire, etc. Rin does what needs to be done in order to survive, whether it’s selling wares, or letting people pay her to help them in some way.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR :   Bright white; a product of Leucism. It really depends on how she wants it cut. Grows relatively fast, so there are times when she lets it grow to her waist. Other times, it’s cut into a crest that becomes midback length locks. Either way, there are two side pieces, and it’s been likened to a lion’s mane, as her father’s was. Soft to the touch, but doesn’t lie flat and silken. EYES :   Heterochromatic. Her left eye is a golden brown/amber, while the other is a vibrant green (inherited from her mother) NOSE :   A medium length nose, with a slight bump in the middle. The bottom is not overly wide, and slightly upturned. FACE :    Her facial shape is not remarkably feminine, more androgynous, though her features definitely point towards her being female. Her brows are a bit heavier than most women, and with a semi-strong jaw. (Think Norn of Guild Wars 2) LIPS :   Nice, full lips, plush for sure.  COMPLEXION :  Not pale, but not too dark. She has the permanent tan of someone who is always outside. No freckles or acne. Skin is pretty clear for the most part, though in the cold there can be a need for something to give it moisture. BLEMISHES :   Only occasional things. Dry lips, sometimes, maybe dark circles if there hasn’t been much sleep. SCARS : General wear and tear, as to be expected. There is also a massive burn scar on her left side, from hip, to under the bust, but not crossing over her center or spine. Two rips on back and front each of her right side, from massive fangs. Three claw marks over her left eye from forehead to midcheek. TATTOOS :   ...there’s, uh, some tribal stuff on the top of her...dick HEIGHT :   137 cm / 4′6″ WEIGHT :    50 kg / 110 lbs BUILD :  Rinnah is toned, but not sculpted. She has an endomorphic body type (reference is Samantha Wright, mostly). There isn’t too much going on, bust-wise, and there’s a bit of broadness to her shoulders, but her hips are decidedly wider, giving a more pear shaped appearance, though her upper body is nothing to sneeze at. FEATURES : Thick thighs, thick ass. Got a bit of a happy trail going on (white peach fuzz) ALLERGIES :   Nope! USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :   Let it loose! Though she has been known to braid her crest, braid it when long, or just tie it up to keep it out of the way. USUAL  FACE  LOOK : Generally curious, interested. Not necessarily happy, but there’s no resting bitch face either. USUAL  CLOTHING :  Think vikings, with more bones and furs, and no shoes.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :   Being alone, rejection, abuse ASPIRATION / S :   To find whatever it is that she’s looking for. ( Rin, herself, doesn’t know what it is, but it’s to find someone that cares for her (in any sense of the word) and/or a place that she can have purpose. POSITIVE  TRAITS :   Strong, loyal, gentle, caring, protective, brave ( for others ) NEGATIVE  TRAITS :   Pushover, nervous ( under the surface ), easily influenced, gullible ZODIAC :   Virgo TEMPEREMENT :    Easy-going, yet a bit on the shy side, until she gets to know/trust you. Then, she’s a fluffy whirlwind of fun, if you let her be. SOUL  TYPE / S :  Server. Click the link on the actual “soul type” thing to find out what that means! ANIMALS :   Wolf, Lion, Horse, Hawk ( Her and her immediate family’s forms )

VICE  HABIT / S :    Tendency to isolate herself, despite the fact that it makes her feel horrible,  Is very secretive, and tries to give out as little information as possible, until convinced that she can trust them completely,  Easy to corrupt with her eager-to-please nature and fear of rejection

FAITH :  Believes in the Valar, mostly because she has met two of them, so it is not possible for her not to believe at that point XD GHOSTS ? :   Eh AFTERLIFE ? :  Everyone is told the story of what happens, and being that she has met two of th Valar, proving their existence, Rinnah isn’t quite sure on the matter. REINCARNATION ? : I don’t think Rinnah wants this to exist, the possibility of coming back, and not having her family the way it was. She refuses to think about it. ALIENS ? :  Modern verse? Certainly POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :   True neutral. Rinnah will making decisions based on who gets to her first ( and shows some form of affection/care, even if they’re faking.

ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE :   Skin changers are not known for being materialistic. They might have a home, but everything has its purpose, and is usually crafted by them, themselves. SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Granddaughter of a chief, but that really doesn’t mean much in her society. Everyone is inherently equal, in their eyes, though your behavior and prowess can sway it. EDUCATION  LEVEL :  Basic survival/self care. A bit of domestic knowledge, but no formal schooling. Can’t really read or write that well... (main verse only)

FAMILY.

FATHER :   Folkvar -Deceased- ( The White Lion ) 7′6″, broad and thick muscled. White hair, and blue eyes. A traveller by nature, until he met his match, Selehna, in the Withered Heath. He is jovial, and kind, though a big flirter as well. Has shared his bed with many people, of all races and genders when they’re interested. Doting father to his twin daughters, though Rinnah is his favorite, which everyone knows, but there is no problem with it. MOTHER :   Selehna -Deceased- ( The Knight Mare ) 6’4″, more slender and wiry, reminiscent of Elves. Dark red hair, and green eyes. Described by her husband ( and agreed upon by many ) as a Warrior Goddess. She has a temper, to be sure, and is not quite as cuddly as Folkvar. Though, her daughters are a different matter. Sinha is her favorite, and similar to her in many ways. Selehna is the beat down first, ask questions later type when it comes to intruders, or anyone threatening her family. Other times, she is cool and calculating. SIBLINGS :  Sinha -Deceased- 5′7″ ( At age 13 ) Fraternal twin to Rinnah. Lighter red hair than their mother ( not fiery ), and blind ( blue eyes ). Takes after their mother in build, and a bit in temperament. Sinha is not entirely fun-loving, but will do all sorts of playing and fun things with her sister, and their father should Rinnah be present. Calm, assertive.

EXTENDED  FAMILY :    Unknown on father’s side. Mother’s, however, which made up many of the tribe, were not fond of an outsider marrying their most sought after daughter. Were abusive to Rinnah when her parents took Sinha away to find a better healer. They are the source of all her scars, stunted growth, and psychological problems NAME  MEANING / S :    Folkvar: “guardian of the people”, Selehna: “Moon”, Rinnah: “Shouting for joy”, Sinha: made to match Rin’s HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :   N/A.

FAVORITES.

BOOK :   N/A MOVIE :   N/A 5 SONGS :  N/A

DEITY : Orome and Ulmo ( because she’s met both, and finds them to be quite pleasant )

HOLIDAY : N/A MONTH :  Probably September, when it’s not too cool, but Fall has begun. SEASON :  Summer/Fall PLACE :  She wanders too much to have a favorite. If she did, then there’s a good chance that there would be no more traveling for her. WEATHER :    Sunny days, warm, but not too warm for someone who...wears a fur coat -wink- SOUND :   The sound of fire crackling, the animals of the forest, rain on a roof, or on the leaves SCENT / S :   Baked treats and bread, roasting meat, freshly cut wood TASTE / S :    Savory, meaty flavors. Freshly baked bread, deserts of all sorts FEEL / S :    Leather, fur, crunching leaves, smooth river stones ANIMAL / S :    Dogs and horses, and bears NUMBER :  N/A. COLORS :  Golden yellow, warm browns

EXTRA.

TALENTS :    Good, scrappy fighter, ready to use whatever weapons she can find, and her body if she can’t. Cooking and singing. Very good listener. BAD  AT :  Reading, math, fitting in with more “cultured” people, especially the women TURN  ONS :   All sorts of things, really. Mostly anything that takes away her control, and even possibly belittles her. Teasing is good, verbal or otherwise, but nothing too cruel. Facesitting is pretty awesome (especially when someone else is doing the sitting). SIZE DIFFERENCE HELL FUCKIN YEAH. Experienced partners, and a reasonable amount of roughness. Put a hand around her throat, maybe pin her down completely, make her cum over and over until she’s begging you to stop, or the reverse is good too. TURN  OFFS :   MAKING ANY SORT OF NEGATIVE COMMENT TOWARDS HER GENITALS (The existence of, moreso than being like “oh gosh it’s so small, because that kind of comment makes her feel all hot and embarrassed and she loves it.)  HOBBIES :  Woodcarving, hunting, singing, traveling, sleeping in sun beams AESTHETIC  TAGS :   Animals of all sorts, gorgeous landscapes, carved wood, bone jewelry, all sorts of weapons (more along the primitive/medieval aspect), rustic dishes (bread and meats predominantly) GPOY  QUOTES :  N/A. Look at the musings tag on my blog

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC / S :   Emilia Clarke & Samantha Wright ALT  FC / S :  Isla from Plastic Memories (For any non-live action) OLDER  FC / S :   N/A YOUNGER  FC / S :  N/A VOICE  CLAIM / S :   Nora Patterson of Royal Teeth, I think, is probably the best I can find? GENDERBENT  FC / S :    N/A

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?          A1 :   Oh geez, this is definitely a very tough question. Personally, I don’t think there’s really much of a way to do a movie about her. I mean, the beginning would be fun, probably, with the antics of her and Sinha, as well as just enjoying time with the parents. Then everything would just become depressing, more depressing, and then a bit indifferent as she went on her own. After all, She doesn’t have anything big that happens, she’s just another denizen of Middle-Earth.

Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?          A2 :   Ooh boy, Instrumentals all the way for this one. It fits best with the world she lives in, and a lot of the Lord of the Rings stuff would fit for that reason. However, while it’s good on the epic/battle fronts, it doesn’t have quite as many happy and depressing songs that would fit for her. For that reason, I could actually see Ghibli type music working well. It has a whole range of emotional songs, from the most light-hearted, to the most heart-wrenching. Princess Mononoke would definitely have good instrumentals, as well as Spirited Away.

Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?          A3 :  Well, I had her as a character in my mind since I first read The Hobbit in second grade. (I was really good at reading) There have been multiple revisions over the years (as children tend to make sort of mary-sue characters, but that’s not their fault), and I finally really settled about 2009. (other than the average hair changes because people don’t have to stick to one style)

Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?          A4 :   BEORN WAS MY FAVE IN THE HOBBIT AND I WANTED SO MUCH MORE!!! I would have loved a book about his life, and more of when the Company stayed at his home. Shape-shifting characters have always been a draw for me, but I wasn’t quite as fond of the one’s who had even more power than that. Trust me, being able to change into one animal is enough to make a character interesting, without overdosing on coolness and power.

Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.          A5 :   Being that Rinnah is naturally so friendly, and her culture pretty open, I have a lot of trouble when it comes to rp partners thinking that she’s trying to get into their pants. She also has a lot of fears and conflict when interacting with others, so I can’t always proceed the way I would like, in threads. Pleasing the character she’s interacting with is her top priority, so sometimes it can be pretty limiting.

Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?          A6 :   We both stay quiet about our own problems, and will constantly try and help people while we, ourselves, are just treading emotional water. I personally, emotionally carried like half of my fellow Honor students in college through every midterm and finals week, while completely freaking out in my own head.

Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?          A7 : She’d probably be really excited to have someone like me as a friend. Interacting with me isn’t as emotionally taxing, because of my laid-back nature, so it would be very comfortable for her.

Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?        A8 :  Ya know, I can’t make this shit up. With, like, 90% of villain characters, she will become like someone they absolutely love to be around, some even ask to marry her, while others mostly go out with her, if she hasn’t been adopted by them. (And yes, I’m including the ones who really are not fond of other people, like; Gisborne, Smaug (in multiple cases), Bolg, Ganondorf, Hades, Gregor Clegane, Hyde (from BBC’s Jekyll), etc.

Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         A9 :  Music, mostly. If I’m listening to some good shit I will check tumblr so many times for notifications hoping that it’ll be time to write XD My other inspiration is all of the positive feedback I get from my partners, as well as my want/need to do the best that I can for them.

Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?          A10 : Don’t....don’t even..please...

[nurseynurse]

(1. This is almost a week late and I’m ?? so sorry 2. This went in a much less funny and much more angsty/fluffy direction than I had anticipated I’m so so sorry……and without further ado “bro…that’s so…not cool…” + holsom for @checkplease-insanity !!)

Ransom rubs his eyes and check his phone for the time. 3:47. He sighs loudly, dramatically, even though he knows there’s no one home to appreciate his theatrics. He’s been working on a paper for his molecular biology class and he thinks, with full honesty, that he’s ready to die. He doesn’t care if graduation is a month away, he can feel death at his heels and he feels strangely at ease as he imagines his paper swallow him whole.

“That’s fucking bullshit and you know it.” Ransom jumps as he hears the front door slam and Holster’s voice float up the stairs. “Mom–mom, fuck.” There’s a thud that Ransom recognizes as Holster’s gym bag and then the strangely light patter of his footsteps up the stairs. “You can’t do that!” Ransom watches, frozen, as Holster stalks into the attic, a scowl on his face, cheeks redder than he had ever seen them, with his phone jammed tight against his ear. A moment later, Holster’s eyes slip closed, his eyebrows knitting together. “Fine,” he says quietly, firmly, into his phone and hangs up angrily, throwing it onto his bed. He collapses next to it.

“Uh.” Ransom starts, unsure exactly what to say. He’s met Judy, he loves Judy, hell, Holster loves Judy. Ransom knows Holster would do anything for his mom and, in the four years he has known Holster, Ransom has never heard him fight with her. Holster looks at him wearily.

“My mom.” He says by way of explanation. Ransom sighs.

“Yeah, I know.” He says and stands up from his desk to sit down next to Holster. “Do you wanna talk about it.” Holster sighs loudly and flops over so that he’s on his back.

“My dad.” Holster responds, unconsciously mimicking himself, and Ransom absolutely freezes. He had heard about Holster’s father, maybe, a grand total of five times and none of those times had been particularly positive. Holster sighs again, his body shaking with it and Ransom watches as an involuntary tremor rushes through the blond man’s neck. “It’s not even a big deal, bro, like. Really.” Ransom lies down next to him, shoves his shoulder tight against Holster’s. “My dad wasn’t really around when I was a kid, you know? He finally bounced when I was fourteen and I haven’t heard from him since. My mom took it really hard. I, uh, I don’t know, I didn’t? It was better without him. Better for me, better for my sisters, better for my mom, even though she probably didn’t think so.” Holster sighs again, small and defeated. “He came over last week, I guess, and he wants my mom back. And he wants to see me.” He finishes flatly and for one of the first times since they became best friends, Ransom isn’t sure what to say.

“Fuck. Bro…that’s so…not cool.” He says lamely but Holster laughs, loud and full, his shoulders shaking and erupting the bunk bed with tremors. Ransom guesses he did something right when Holster punches him in the shoulder lightly.

“Fuck, yeah, it’s not cool.” He says bitingly, but he’s still smiling.

“Fuck that guy, you know?” Ransom continues quickly and Holster starts to sit up. “He hasn’t been around for twelve years and now he wants back in your life? Fuck that, you deserve better than that.” Holster is nodding, mouth right as if he wants to agree but–

“My mom wants to give him a chance.” He says conspiratorially, as if they’re best friends at a sleepover–which, they kind of are, every night, all the time, if Ransom really thinks about it, and it’s kind of awesome–and Ransom can tell that he’s trying to brush it off himself now.

“And how do you feel about that?” Ransom asks, knowing it would sound belittling aimed towards anyone else. It was one of the things Holster would ask him once he would come out of a panic attack, carefully helping him figure out what made him spiral and how to avoid it.

“She deserves better.” He says quietly and Ransom hears a million different things. When he boils it down, Holster’s mom deserves the world, not some deadbeat who deserted her when she most needed him.

“Adam,” Ransom sighs, leaning in to tuck Holster under his shoulder. It works, because they’re lying down, and Holster curls into him compliantly. Holster just nods and Ransom can feel his mind racing. Holster needs to decompress, he knows, and reaches for his laptop.

An episode and a half of Community later–Holster’s been on a kick lately and Ransom isn’t going to complain if he gets to watch something that doesn’t have Alec Baldwin in it–and Holster leans out of Ransom’s hold to stretch. Ransom mourns the warmth, the weight, but relishes in watching Holster’s arms move. He has a thing for Holster’s arms. It’s not a big deal. Finally, he fixes Ransom with a look.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, I will talk to my mom again soon. Yes, I do want pie.” He says and Ransom breathes a laugh. They head downstairs and dig through the fridge to find a stack of Tupperware filled with apple, pecan, and, despite the season, pumpkin pie. Holster, as always, goes for the latter. It’s while ruminating on the season that Ransom remembers that he’s graduating in a month. He’s moving to Washington in less than three months. He's moving away from Holster in less than three months. Ransom freezes, hand poised on the little plastic lip of the apple pie lid. Holster’s eyebrows slowly rise. Ransom makes a split second decision and mentions something other than graduation.

“How’s job hunting going?” Ransom asks, instead, flipping off the lid. Holster looks nervous

“Um.” He says, scooping up the Tupperware with Ransom’s pie in one hand and Holster’s in the other as he turns back towards the staircase.

“Um?” Ransom says derisively, chasing after his friend. Holster’s mouth is twisted, eyebrows knotted. “What?”

“Um…” Holster repeats as they re-enter the attic.

“Holster.” Holster places the pie onto his desk, delicately.

“Justin.” He pleads. Ransom’s eyebrows rise because…that tone of voice is too fucking serious considering Ransom just asked about jobs. “Just. Don’t be mad at me.”

“Okay.” Ransom urges, trying to soften his eyes, his posture. Holster relaxes, minutely.

“I’m moving to Washington,” he says and Ransom can feel his jaw drop.

“Why didn’t you–” he starts at a shout but is broken off by the look on Holster’s face.

“I’m gonna, uh, be playing hockey.” Ransom knows his mouth is gaping now, his eyes bugging out.

“Why did you tell me? What the fuck! You signed? With the Schooners? What the fuck, bro!” He exclaims, taking a step towards Holster, whose hands are tight against his desk.

“It’s a new thing. I was, uh, waiting for the right moment.” Ransom doesn’t want to admit how stung he is that Holster kept it from him that he was even planning on signing this year; he knew it was a possibility, considering he did juniors before college and he was fucking good at hockey and, as much as he said he liked the idea of international economics, Ransom could tell how much he…didn’t. So, yeah, Ransom could put two and two together, but he had hoped Holster would have discussed it with him first, like a good fucking best friend.

But now.

Now Holster is looking at him with wide blue eyes, shocked as he registers how angry Ransom is. Ransom takes a breath.

“That’s fuckin’ ‘swawesome, dude.” He says carefully and wraps his arms around Holster. Holster melts.

“Shit, I though you were, like, pissed at me. I thought you were gonna snap.” Ransom punches him in the shoulder.

“I am pissed at you. But it doesn’t mean I’m not totally fucking stoked on the fact that my BFF is gonna be in the NHL and live in the same city as me.” Holster breathes a laugh. “Why’d you not tell me, though?” Holster sighs.

“I did all those camps last summer. I didn’t hide it, exactly, I just…didn’t want to talk about it, get anyone’s hopes up, get my hopes up.” Holster says with a shrug before reaching over and grabbing their pies. He hands it to Ransom, a peace offering. Ransom punches him on the shoulder again but takes the pie, wraps a hand around Holster’s forearm, and pulls him back to the nest of blankets and television sitcoms they made under the bunk bed.

“Hey, Adam?” Ransom asks a short while later. Holster looks up at him, sleepy and confused, his glasses a little crooked.

“Hm?” Holster adjusts his shoulders so that he’s less curled against Ransom and more eye level with him.

“When we graduate, um…” Ransom pauses. He wants to ask it, ask if Holster feels the same way around Ransom as he felt around Holster: absolutely safe and complete. He wants to ask if Holster can feel the energy that buzzes between them when they’re pressed against each other, some immovable force that makes Ransom feel simultaneously warm, like his skin is melting and his bones are ready to burst, and more capable–stronger, more sure of himself, like he could do anything. Ransom is comfortable in the life they’ve built for each other, for themselves, but he knows it’s more than just best friends, more than just the eerie in-syncness that defense partners shared.

“What?” Holster asks, and now he’s propped up on one arm, hand in his disheveled hair as he peers at Ransom with soft blue eyes like weathered sea glass.

“When we move out, we should get a dog.” He says finally. It’s not exactly what he wanted to ask, but it feels like a leap–some kind of commitment–all the same. Holster’s eyes light up.

“Oh, fuck yeah, dude. As soon as we finish painting the walls, we’re gonna get a puppy. It’s gonna be ‘swawesome.” Holster mumbles, collapsing back against Ransom and oh, how incredibly domestic painting the walls is. Ransom sighs, strangely relieved. Ransom is in love with his best friend and, although it’s never been said out loud, or made blatantly apparent, Ransom feels like it’s only a matter of time until Holster realizes. Ransom doesn’t think Holster will mind, all that much, as the blond presses his nose to the column of Ransom’s throat, presses his shoulder back into Ransom’s chest, presses himself into a future that Ransom would never be able to imagine without him.