#kitt is best boy

[girlwiththegreenhat]

Hi, anon that asked about where to watch the show here. I managed to find it.

INCREDIBLY correct meme. i'm glad you were able to find it somewhere!! please enjoy the cheesy crimefighting car show :3

[angryearthquaketurtle]

I did a lil comic with my OC's Kitt and Max. I did it traditionally then scanned it, it was fun but very difficult lol. think i'll just do it digitally next time I do a comic strip.

[rellasnowheenim]

“It reminded me that I cannot hold those I love in a cage, even if it feels like protecting them.”

- Rebecca Ross, from Ruthless Vows

[artstatues]

Yield, darling? - k.a × reader

wc : 817

pairings : kai azer x fem! reader, from powerless.

synopsis : you and kai grew up together, trained together, and now you guys were what people called best friends, until one particular training session.

a/n : this is my first x reader and my first time professionally writing a kiss so god bear with me but yeah and its been 2 hours so idek man

requested tag : @thisiskaylin, @urbanflorals, @reminiscentreader, @moondust-on-the-hijabi, @lxvebelle.

Malakai Azer was your best friend. He’s been your best friend since you were 12. Since you were old enough for your dad, the general, to take you to the castle. He’d take you there on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Fridays. You loved and cherished every visit. You met the Princes of Ilya on your 4th visit, as the king saw how well you behaved. Well, of course you behaved, the only thing you did at the castle all day was walk around, explore more and more. By now you’ve memorized the entire layout of the castle. All 4 floors, you know how to get out, get in, noticed or unnoticed. But during those visits, you also began to train with the princes. At first, you preferred training with Kitt, since he was older than you, so was Kai, but you always felt like Kitt knew better, fought better. You were so wrong. He was a good fighter, yes, but the thing was, he’d always let you win. It wouldn’t be called training if he kept letting you win, so you tried training with Kai. You assumed he didn’t know much, since he trained with dummies and figures but oh boy were you horribly wrong. He terribly beat you up. Bruises everywhere, leaving your mother to scold you. You’ve barely talked to him before, but he eventually grew warmer, and didn’t absolutely beat you up all the time. Sometimes, you even switched mediums to using swords instead of hand to hand combat.

“Darling, enough, you’re going to ruin my gorgeous face.” Kai teased before sidestepping to avoid your stab of an attack. “Oh it’s not so gorgeous right now Kai,” You smirked before ducking to protect yourself from his blow, immediately taking advantage of his position to get behind him and pressed your dagger to his neck. “Yield?” Your smirk from earlier had returned. You’ve never been this close together before. Yes the both of you trained endlessly, but it never got this close. Well excluding the one time Kai had you pinned against a tree, knife to your throat. Even that wasn’t as close. You were pretty sure that he could feel your chest heaving. “Not so easily darling,” He smiled before making use of the fact that you were breathless, and the grip on your dagger was sloppy, since you were in fact, breathless. He flipped you over, your back landing harshly on the ground. Oh yeah, something’s definitely wrong in your skeletal system now. You audibly groaned, your face scrunched up in pain. Your dagger did do its job, though, it lightly tore Kai’s skin, resulting in a harsh hiss leaving his kissable lips. He wiped off some of the blood before you got up. Kai held his dagger, backing you up to a tree. Your back hit the tree, you winced because you were really done with this shit. “Kai I can’t-” You finally spoke up, but because of that, he strode to you in one long step, weapon hitting your throat. “Yield then, darling.” He leaned in to whisper in your ear. You could feel his smirk through your skin, but at the same time something tingled in your stomach, you were sure that your face was flush red now. You tried looking down to hide it only for Kai to tilt your head back up with his dagger. “Don’t hide away now, darling.” He still had that stupid smirk on his handsome face. His hand, equipped with the dagger, fell to his side. The tip of his dagger met your hand, trying to convince you to drop the weapon, and you did, because by his body language, you could tell that the atmosphere had changed. “Kai-” You whispered. He dropped his own weapon with a soft thud, or a clatter, you couldn’t even tell at this point, your mind hazy at him, the smell of his cologne, his body being this close to you. He leaned closer, tucking a piece of loose hair behind your ear. All this training likely made your braid loose. “May I?” He asked, his eyes darkening. You could feel your knees weaken and your face getting hotter. You gave him a subtle nod and with that, it felt like you just entered the gateways of heaven, literally. His hands were on you, they were everywhere, one on your neck, the other pinning your hips to the tree. His lips were soft, so soft- delicate- gentle, tender- but also hungry, impatient- You ran out of words to describe it, but it sure as hell was the best thing you’ve experienced. Kai pulled away, “Plagues, darling, you really are something-” He gasped before kissing you again. You were breathless at this point, but even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away. Kai did, eventually, “So, darling, what do you say? Yield?” He smirked, his tone laced with husk.

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter One

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Angus have been best friends since you were little children. Now in high school the only thing that separates you is a lake between both your schools. Due to what was describe by your headmaster as "Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part," you are forced to stay at the Barton Academy for the holidays with the company of your best friend or maybe more.

a/n: hi guys! I’m new so try to be kind to me lol. Anyways this is probably not very good. It’s slow paced cause I wanted to establish their friendship. Not sure where this is going so if you have any suggestions let me know! Also not grammar or beta read so…

Word Count: 3k

Find: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17th, 1970

You hadn’t spoken to your parents in months. You figured they would call or write a letter or something. In October they wished you a speedy little, “Happy Halloween,” before hanging up. You could hear the loud party in the background. Always the socialites, they were probably eager to get back to enjoying themselves by downing flutes of champagne and appetizers. Now it was December, and you had not received a peep from either. When the holiday plans form was passed out to the girls of your boarding school at the end of November, you ignored it. Then the deadline came, and you hastily checked off the box that said, ‘Plan to stay on campus.’

Your parents hadn’t called to dispute it and now you’re stuck at mass, sitting in a pew, watching other happy families and their daughters anxiously waiting to leave. You wondered if there was still a way for you to get away. Your friend, really only friend, Angus Tully was headed to St. Kitts and with him gone, your only true escape was gone. If he knew you were stuck holding over, he would beg his parents to take you, but you knew it would be too much of an imposition, so you kept that fact secret.

Life had always seemed to throw you two together. Even at the age where cooties were still a very legitimate fear. Born in the same snobby Boston neighborhood you two were often the only kids at your parent's parties. You remember that humid night on the Fourth of July when you had met the lanky boy with a mess of brown curls. The fireworks had begun to go off and everyone wore white dresses and suits. You had become restless and started to wander the halls of your home aimlessly. Streamers of blue, red and white hung from the ceiling and servers walked around passing out sparklers.

You found him on the patio. He tugged, annoyed, at his tie. Your own dress was stifling in the heat and for a pair of seven-year-olds, you found the best solution to your ailment was to jump into the shallow end of the pool.

“I’ll do it, if you do it,” you had promised under the hum of cicadas and floating fireflies.

“Deal,” you shook hands.

The water was cold and clear. You swam around for a while, splashing each other and playing Marco Polo. It was at the same time your mother had decided to move the party outside so people could watch the lights in the sky a bit better. You two were pulled out of the pool and shook like wet dogs.

Livid, your parents fed you the line all parents wait to say to their troublesome child, “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” You decided at that moment that yes, you would.

After that you two were inseparable. Because when you're a kid all you need is one single act of solidarity to devote your life to someone. Throughout elementary school you were practically fused to one another. You’d exclude people from your game of hopscotch and eat lunch in secret nooks. When you two were headed to high school your parents enrolled you in a posh all-girl boarding school and Angus to some prep school in another rural part of Massachusetts. Phone calls rang long. You remember the groans you would get from other girls who would give up trying to use the payphone. At some point you had run out of quarters and so to save money you had begun writing letters. Angus being Angus, he’d write as if he was off at war and the letters were the last things keeping him sane.

You knew he never enjoyed school but after he was kicked out from his first preparatory, then his second and third, you had turned into a scolding mother.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Die if I’m lucky, shave my head at Fork Union if not.”

“I want to go to college with you Angus. If not college then I at least want to be able to be an adult with you. One with a diploma so we can get easy jobs as regional salespeople or something,” you mumbled, twirling the phone cord around with your finger.

“You really thought this out,” he laughed.

“I’m serious, Augie.” You heard him sigh across the line.

“Okay. I’ll do better. No screw ups next time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

When he was sent to Barton, your sister school, you couldn’t have been more excited. It was a short walk away; you could see it from across the lake that separated you. Your mom had been the one to call you about the change. She said his mother thought having him near you would make him less fussy. Something about you being the good influence he needs. You doubted that yet bit your tongue, knowing it would create more trouble than anything. Now it had been over a year and Angus had kept his word. When the opportunity arose for you to meet up, you would take it. Football games or talent shows, you were there. To anyone outside, it would have appeared as though you two just held a lot of school spirit. Like that beach boy's song.

“Be true to your school now,” you’d sing into Angus' ear.

He’d roll his eyes but always join in, “just like you would to your girl or guy.”

“Rah-rah-rah-rah sis boom bah! I love that part!” You’d giggle.

He’d try to hide his smile, but you could always tell. He’d put his arm around your shoulder and say, “Yeah okay.”

…

Once you were dismissed from mass you sighed and trudged all the way back through the snow to your dorm building. Having it so empty was eerie, you could hear your own footsteps echoing down the halls. You made your way into the common room to wait for Ms. Orchard.

She was meant to be your babysitter for the next few weeks. She was your Renaissance literature teacher. Ms. Orchard was nice but on the older side, which meant she was traditional. You often thought she would be better suited to be a Home Economics teacher if she was so invested in being ladylike.

You sat in the corner of the couch and opened a book. Minutes passed and it seemed obvious no one was coming to join you. Not even Mrs. Orchard. She probably broke a hip trying to make her way back in the snow.

“Ms. Orchard has broken a hip while walking in the snow,” the door suddenly bursts open hitting the side of the wall so hard it shakes the room.

“What?” Your mouth drops at the news. Shit, had you jinxed it?

Your Dean, Mr. Jameson says as he walks in, covered in snowflakes. “Yup. She slipped on ice on the way here. By the parking lot. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”

“Uh… no?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around the room, “where are the other girls?”

“I think it’s just me sir.”

“Ah, right. Well that makes this easier. You’ll be spending your Christmas break at Barton. Now, it’s awfully last minute so we hope they take you. Why don’t you go get your bag ready and-,”

“Hold on. Barton the boys' school?” You could almost gag at the idea. No offense to Angus, but you could remember the endless horror stories he would tell you of life in a boys' school. The air always smelled weird, and cleanliness was the least of their worries. “Isn’t there somebody to replace Ms. Orchard?”

“This place cleared out thirty minutes ago, Ms. L/n,” he said, “And I have a family to get back to.”

“But-, I just-, isn't there a rule against this or something?”

“I have no doubt that the teacher supervisor there will ensure you have a safe, jolly time Ms. L/n.”

“But I-,”

“That’s enough. I understand this is an unprecedented situation, but the only alternative would be to leave you here alone and that just is not going to happen. Please Ms. L/n, make this easy for everyone.” With his hand he motioned towards the door.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You got off the couch and went to your room. You half-heartedly crammed anything you could into your suitcase. Some shirts, sweaters and pants. You ran out of space and resorted to carrying your books in your hands along with your potted plant. You felt bad leaving your lavender to just sit and wilt, so you took her with you.

“I made a few calls. Everything should work out. You all settled then?” Mr. Jameson said once you had made your way back to the common room. Nodding with a tight-lipped smile you headed out. You two could have walked but apparently, he was in a hurry to catch a six o’clock flight and you ended up taking his car.

It was a short drive and with reluctance you made your way inside the school. “Come on. Put a pep in your step,” Mr. Jameson clapped.

He navigated you around. You had only been in the main building, never the dorms. Blindly you let him guide you until you found yourself in a room with four other boys and Angus. Angus who was supposed to be half-way to the airport by now. His sulky face shifted into one of shock. You took a step towards him only to be stopped by your dean's arm in front of you. The other guys were looking at you with mouths wide open. It was like their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. You grumbled, not knowing what else to do.

Mr. Jameson took the lead, “Mr. Hunham? Correct?” He outstretched his hand for him to shake. Hesitantly the older man took it.

“What’s the meaning of this,” he pointed between Mr. Jameson and you.

“Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part. This is Ms. Y/n L/n. Come introduce yourself.”

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you shrugged, looking at Angus for guidance. In unison they all say hello.

“Can we speak in private,” Mr. Jameson asked.

“Alright,” Mr. Hunham says, “no funny business,” he gives a pointed look to the boys.

The two teachers leave, and you quickly move to Angus to encapsulate him in a quick hug.

“What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”

“What the hell Angus. You have a girlfriend?” A blonde boy with a red tie says as his eyes scan your figure. You shift uncomfortably at the action. “A smoking one too…”

“Shut it Kountze, you’re catching flies,” Angus scoffs.

The door creaks open as both gentlemen return from their brief chat. You and Angus move away from each other like you were caught doing something wrong.

“It seems we will be extending you an invitation to Ms. L/n,” Mr. Hunham says, “you okayed this with Woodrup?” He verifies again with Dean Jameson.

“Yes, it’s all settled. We at Janie Patrick’s School thank you. We owe you one,” he turns to you, “goodbye L/n, you’re in good hands.”

He was halfway through the door when Mr. Hunham cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. “As I was saying, we will be following a standard school schedule.”

“Uh, sir? We’re on vacation.” Kountze points out.

“Which means we’ll be taking our meals together. And you will observe regular hours of study.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The Peloponnesian War awaits, Mr. Kountze, you and Mr. Tully. The rest of you can get a jump on next semester. It’ll pay off. You’ll see.”

“We’re already holding over, and now we’re being punished for it?” Angus says bitterly and on fast reflex you rub his arm comfortingly. Mr. Hunham is just as fast to notice.

“Oh no, no, no. Do not tell me this is your girlfriend Mr. Tully.”

“Wh-what. No! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, we were born on the same street!”

“I do not intend to break apart your romantic escapades all break long.”

“We. Are. Just. Friends,” Angus reaffirms, venom on his tongue. You could see the blush rising on his pale cheeks. You could feel your own as well.

“Mhm,” Hunham hums skeptically, his gaze lingers on you two for a second before glancing back at his clipboard, “Alright… You will be afforded limited windows for recreation and supervised physical activity.”

“The gyms are not even open yet.”

“Yeah, they only lacquered half the floor,” another boy points out, this one has long blonde hair that reaches his shoulders.

“Fresh air will do you good,” says Hunham.

“It’s like 15 degrees outside.”

“And the Romans bathed naked in the freezing Tiber. Adversity builds character Mr. Tully. Uh, speaking of which, the school will be cutting heat to dormitories and faculty housing and so we’ll all be bunking in the infirmary. With separate accommodations for Ms. L/n of course.”

They all groan. You're just upset. You had thought you would spend the next two weeks avoiding Ms. Orchard and lying to Angus about your whereabouts while he admiringly described the beaches of St. Kitts to you over postcards. Although you supposed it wasn’t all bad. You could spend more time with him, under the watchful glare of Angus' teacher of course.

Together you all get ready to haul your things to the infirmary before being stopped by Mr. Hunhams tsking in disapproval.

“You philistines are just going to let the lady carry her own things? I’m sorry to see Barton has failed in ingraining a sense of chivalry into you.”

“Oh no, it’s alright really, I can do it,” you protest but they all scramble to help you anyway. “Can I carry your suitcase Y/n?” Kountze says, in an odd way, that was meant to be suggestive.

“Okay Kountze, piss off,” Tully pushes him away, leaning down slightly to get your things, “let’s go.” He walks quickly out the door, leaving the rest of you to follow him.

As you are slapped in the face by the harsh winds you curse the idiots at your school who refused to let you wear pants. You were forced to put on double the tights and your warmest coat. It did not do anything to aid you and your shivering made that clear. It was like they wanted to torture you when the boys stopped halfway down the quad and in front of a truck. You're still holding your books so it's not like you can rub your arms to help you out a little. They were complaining about Hunham, who they so endearingly nicknamed “Walleye.”

“Hey, guys, hold up for a second,” Angus tells the young kids in front of you. He sets his, and your things, down on the grimy paved road. He searched through his pockets and lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he asks you and Kountze.

“No. I got something else. Give me that,” he grabs the lighter from him and sparks a joint.

“Hey, don’t smoke that out here. I don't want to get busted by Walleye.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,”

“I’m not a pussy, I just don't want to end up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”

He ignores Angus and instead turns his attention to you instead, “You're not like a total priss right?”

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you were.

“Alright,” he smirks and stretches his hand out for you to shake, “Teddy Kountze.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. The other unnamed boy is the next to greet you.

“Jason Smith.”

“We know who you are. You want to hit this,” Teddy offers the jock the joint.

Jason scans his surroundings before agreeing, “Uh, yeah.”

“You got a great arm man,” he compliments,

“Yeah, well, it’s just football.”

“How’d you get stuck holding over?”

“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack, but my dad put his foot down. Said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”

“So why don’t you cut your hair?

“Civil disobedience, man.”

“I dig that,” you comment. “You know that when they tried to cut that tree between our schools, I organized the tree-sitting.”

“Holy shit that was you? Figured it was some hippies from Boston,” Teddy snickers.

“Nope. I sat in that tree for hours, drinking from water bottles that Angus tossed up to us.”

“Did it work?” Jason wonders.

“For now, yeah.”

“Awesome…. But no, he’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”

“What about you, Mr. Moto? Why are you here?” Teddy asks one of the first-year boys.

He appears embarrassed to be singled out, “No, my name is Ye-Joon. My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken,” Teddy laughs to himself. Angus didn’t exaggerate when she said this guy was a jerk.

“What a rickshaw?”

Angus intervenes, “You’re an asshole, Kountze. Your mind’s a cesspool and a shallow one at that.”

“Who’s the asshole Tully? You’re the one who blew up history.” Jason notices the tension and brings the group's conversation back to the freshman.

“What’s your story man?”

“Alex Ollerman. I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS. “Mormons, right?” Alex nods yes.

“Don’t you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?” It's like Teddy loves to hear himself talk, you think.

“Common misconception. Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when-.”

“Hey, what's with the townies?” Kountze spots two men emerging from the chapel with a large, heavy green tree in their grasp.

“Hey, what are you doing with our Christmas tree?” Angus shouts, tapping you on the shoulder in a way that says can you believe this?

“The school sold it back to us. Scotch pine, still fresh.” The stranger shouts back.

“Yeah, we’re going to put it back on the lot. We do it every year.”

“This is the most bullshit ever.”

The boys put out their separate smokes much to the relief of Alex and Ye-Joon. You fall behind the rest of them and Angus naturally finds his place next to yours. You stroll in silence until he decides to break the ice.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

“You tell me first. You were so excited to go on vacation.”

“One word. Stanley.”

You grimace, knowing what that means. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. They want to spend their honeymoon forgetting my existence then they can do just that. I’m almost an adult anyway. Then I can go anywhere I want anytime.”

“Is that what Judy said?”

“That was the bullshit excuse, yes.”

“Hey, you got me though. We’ll make this fun.”

“We have no tree, Hunham will be breathing down our back, and Kountze hasn’t stopped ogling at you since you arrived. Does that sound like the perfect Christmas to you?”

You laugh softly, “Ignore Hunham and Kountze. As for the tree, we could always Charlie Brown it. What do you think the lavender is here for?” You shake your plant a little. The purple bush sways in the wind.

He smiles, “Yeah… It’s not a bad little tree,” he begins to quote.

“Maybe it just needs a little love,” you say together and break into a fit of giggles.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ song: undone - the sweater song—weezer

masterlist! | commissions | carrd

• Rooming with Troy and Abed had been one of the easiest decisions of your life. Two years of friendship and student debt loans really did a lot to convince a person

• You were a little worried about the actual process of moving, considering what happened last time the study group got together to move, but it ended up going pretty smooth. Jeff didn't even try to pretend he was sick this time, something that Britta sarcastically applauded him for. And Shirley held back from judging you about your lack of Christian memorabilia. She instead resorted to clutching her cross necklace tighter than the time she found out Britta smoked pot

• In between lugging boxes and bedframes around, Annie reassured you over and over that she was totally fine with you taking up the apartment vacancy instead of her. She was honestly looking forward to her new place just off the cusp of campus grounds. Said it would be easier to get in for a midnight study session. Whatever that meant

• You just nodded slowly and excused yourself to pack in a different corner

• Troy and Abed on the other hand were absolutely stoked throughout the move. So much so, that they put most of their shenanigans on pause to get the move over faster. Most of them.

• "Abed, untie Troy from the chair. I need to put that in the back of my car. You can do that when we get to your place."

• "Ten more minutes?"

• "No, guys."

• "Aw man."

• The next few hours ran as smooth as they could with eight people trying to walk up two flights of stairs. Eventually, everything got unloaded into the living room, and excuses were made as why people had to leave. Some more elegantly than others

• "Yeah, as much as I'd love to stay and watch you three nerds discuss which Batman poster goes where—" Jeff hummed as he typed away on his phone, "—I've got places to be and women to charm."

• "What he said!"

• "Pierce, I don't think there's a single lady out there that would touch you with a ten foot pole." You deadpanned

• "Ertha Kitt did. And she did more than just touch me—"

• "Okay. Out."

• Troy and Abed surprised you that night with a new pair of pajamas to match their own, and an impromtu Inspector Spacetime marathon

•Both of them beamed when you came out into the living room later wearing it. A part of you figured they were just happy that you were cool with your blanket fort, though

• You ended up sitting criss crossed on top of an unpacked box while they took to their knockoff la-z-boys

• "Do you guys think we should actually unpack things before starting the next episode?" You asked at some point late into the night, glancing at the blinking analog clock on the TV stand

• "No." Abed answered you without even looking up from the end credits

• "Yeah me neither." You grinned. "I want to see if Reggie kills any blorgons this time."

• All in all, becoming their third best friend and tennant was one of the best decisions any of you had made—even if it did take you a month to convince Troy and Abed to let you take partial room in the dreamatorium

[2facedweirdo]

Hey weirdo hope your trip and camp went well!!

My question is, what blogs/vns/creators do you like?

with tags so we know who ur talking to ofcourse!! have a good day!

hello!! My trips went well thank you!! hmmm….ok let’s see!

@campwillowpeak silly little vn with a pyromaniac,Gavin,Gavin’s friend and depressed dad <33 I love this game so much ngl

@mama- -sloth (I hope I wrote that right) AAAAAAA ILY SOO MUCH<33 HER HUMOR?!?! HELLO?!

@restartheartvn Ezra and Chris Ezra and Chris Ezra and Chri- I love this game, it has good storyline, good music and amazing characters!! Fun fact!! I headcanon kenneth as societyboy from blooming panic

@queenlilithprime SO SILLY PT2!! Amazing person in general tbh. They are honest, respectful, pretty just amazing friend ngl!! (Also happy restart heart anniversary!!)

@stnaf-vn. AHHHHH- again one of my very very favorites 🤭 it so fun and has amazing lore and art! Also Carter <3 (and friend of course but you know, Carter)

@itsya-boi never really talked much with yaboi ngl. But from what I’ve saw, they are also the best human alive! Would love to be friends with them, 10/10 human being right there

@you-and-him-vn Enemies to lovers with Chloe and Adam!! I love this game, THE LORE AND STORY HELLO??

@— unknown hermit as we all know hermit left so I’m not tagging her here, but I actually really liked hermit and think the didn’t deserve all the hate she got.</3

@thekrows-nest Krow!!!!!!1!1!1!1! Best boy right there!! Mwuah!! @winndycakes amazing person who has amazing art! They also helped me out when I got a hate anon along with @queenlilithprime which makes me value them even more. <3

@lavender-teardroplettes I.LOVE.SI ILY ILY ILY SOOOOOOO MUCH <33 my very first friend on this platform and I respect him for wanting to me friends with me!! I love him as a person again, genuinely 100/10 person right there 💗💗

@clownboymcchucklefuck Nothing can describe how much I love this person. THE SILLIENES??? SILLY!!

@fantasia-kitt 🤭🤭🤭 Now THIS is an amazing game who has a amazing future! Funfact2: I headcanon that my oc and hyugo are childhood friends!. As the creator however is also an amazing person you means well for their community. I hope the hiatus means well for them

@darqx AHHHHHHHHH. Every time I see a demon man that’s tall I.just.scream!! I love rire <3 as for darqx however I’m surprised that both of the other creators of btd got in scandals while draqx is still standing, impressive!

@robobarbie although I sti haven’t played seekL yet, I immediately know it’s gonna be a good game because robo made it. For blooming panic however, *deep breath* AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. IT HITS THAT ONE PART OF MY BRAIN AND SCRATCHES IN A WAY THATS ADDICVE. I also like their humor!

ANYWAYS LITTLE MUSHROOMS BE SURE TO CHECK OUT THESE BLOGS I WILL BE MAKING A PART 2 IF THIS CAUSE ITS TOOOO LONG AND IM TIRED!! SEE U LATERSSSS

Btw all games and blogs mentioned are amazing people and games check them out pls <3

[talesofsonicasura]

I decided to make this as I noticed there's some Linked Universe x Reader blogs either not getting attention or being swamped with asks in @luimagines case. This list will update with more blogs I find. Marking those that can do yandere or NSFW as well.

@linkedhearts

@linked-heroes (does NSFW)

@cafecourage

@kitts-n-polaroids

@hylias-gremlin (now @hylias-library )

@windtooweem

@cloudninetonine (yandere)

@dreaming-of-lu /NSFW blog @desires-of-chain

@pinkfairyskeleton

@waywardxsouls (yandere)

@yandere-linked-universe (deactivated)

@lonelyrosegold

@honey-for-the-miind

@gjulkfs (yandere)

@yeoldenfictionwitch or @yeoldenfictionwitch2

@gliphyartfan (yandere)

@apolyian-alluvial

@lu-twilights-pup

@my-insanity-is-an-artform

@eclipssalfics (yandere)

@d3kubee (yandere)

@lost4pandora

@ice-cream-writes-stuff

@legendofzoodles

@triforce-of-mischief

@blogbooger

@sighfineillcomeback

@chainbakery

@rose-writes-shit

@solance-fics

@trulytiredhermit (yandere)

@lxnlxnranch

@2sleepy4dis

@trench-coat-racoon

@voidsanidiot

@cooliofango

@majesties-palace

@lu-twilight-is-best-boy

@bonkzies

@linksignited

@trippygalaxy

@legendofmorons

@wintertimestoryteller

@doodlesbf

[innervoiceart]

"Nature Boy" was Nat King Cole's first big hit, since then it has been covered over 1223 times! The story behind the song is even more sensational

Joe Moondad has the strange story of eden ahbez:

"In the late 40s, there was a rumor that there was a "hermit," disenchanted and disillusioned with the world, supposedly "out-of-sync" with society, living in California in a cave under one of the L’s in the Hollywood sign.

No one really cared about this strange man, until one night in 1947, when someone tried to enter backstage at the Lincoln Theater in Los Angeles. Nat King Cole was playing there, and the man said he had something for Cole. Of course, the employees didn't let the strange man see Cole, so he gave whatever he had with Cole's manager.

What he had was a song sheet, which Cole would later take a look at. Cole liked the song and wanted to record it, but he had to find the strange man. When asked, the people who saw the man said he was strange, indeed, with shoulder-length hair and beard, wearing sandals and a white robe.

Cole finally tracked him down in New York City. When Cole asked him where he was staying, the strange man declared he was staying at the best hotel in New York - outside, literally, in Central Park. He said his name was eden ahbez (spelled all in lower-case letters). The song he gave Cole was titled, "Nature Boy." It became Cole's first big hit, and was soon covered by other artists through the years, from Frank Sinatra and Sarah Vaughan to Tony Bennett and Lady Gaga, most recently.

Of course, the media went crazy about the strange, mysterious man who handed Nat King Cole, one of the biggest hits during that time. Everyone went out to try to find out more about him.

What little they found was that he was once an orphan, who never stayed at one place very long, living in various foster homes. He explained he just never fit in and was always searching, for something.

["They say he wandered very far...

Very far, over land and sea..."

They found out he would hop freight trains and walked across country several times, subsisting solely on raw fruits and vegetables, then one day he completely vanished.

["A little shy and sad of eye...

But very wise was he..."]

He finally showed up again in the Hollywood hills. When a policeman stopped the strange, long-haired man with beard, sandals, and robe, ahbez simply replied, "I look crazy but I'm not. And the funny thing is that other people don't look crazy but they are."

["And then one day...

One magic day he passed my way..."]

He then showed up backstage at Nat King Cole's concert in Los Angeles, to present him with the song, "Nature Boy." No one seems to really know why he selected Cole, there were some rumors that he came out of hiding when he began to hear about the racism going on and trouble throughout the world, and he thought "King" was the best person at that time to pass his message along.

["While we spoke of many things...

Fools and Kings..."]

When he was asked about racism, he replied, "Some white people hate black people, and some white people love black people, some black people hate white people, and some black people love white people. So you see it's not an issue of black and white, it's an issue of Lovers and Haters."

It was that theme of love that he continued to talk about, what was missing in the world, and what would be needed in the future if we are to survive.

ahbez would eventually get his message out, especially after the counter-culture finally caught up with him and the hippie movement began, when other artists such as Donovan, Grace Slick, and the Beach Boys' Brian Wilson sought him out. He also wrote songs for Eartha Kitt and had another song recorded by Sam Cooke.

In 2009, Congressman Bill Aswad recited the last lyrics of the song before the Vermont House of Representatives at the passing of his state's same-sex marriage bill in '09.

Author Raymond Knapp described the track as a "mystically charged vagabond song" whose lyrics evoked an intense sense of loss and haplessness, with the final line delivering a universal truth, described by Knapp as "indestructible" and "salvaged somehow from the perilous journey of life."

["This he said to me...

The greatest thing you'll ever learn...

Is just to love and be loved in return."]

"George Alexander Aberle (April 15, 1908 – March 4, 1995), known as eden ahbez, was an American songwriter and recording artist of the 1940s to 1960s, whose lifestyle in California was influential in the hippie movement.

He was known to friends simply as ahbe.

Ahbez composed the song "Nature Boy", which became a No. 1 hit for eight weeks in 1948 for Nat "King" Cole.

Living a bucolic life from at least the 1940s, he traveled in sandals and wore shoulder-length hair and beard, and white robes. He camped out below the first L in the Hollywood Sign above Los Angeles and studied Oriental mysticism. He slept outdoors with his family and ate vegetables, fruits, and nuts. He claimed to live on three dollars per week.

In the mid-1950s, he wrote songs for Eartha Kitt, Frankie Laine, and others, as well as writing some rock-and-roll novelty songs. In 1957, his song "Lonely Island" was recorded by Sam Cooke, becoming the second and final Ahbez composition to hit the Top 40.

In 1959, he began recording instrumental music, which combined his signature somber tones with exotic arrangements and (according to the record sleeve) "primitive rhythms". He often performed bongo, flute, and poetry gigs at beat coffeehouses in the Los Angeles area. In 1960, he recorded his only solo LP, Eden's Island, for Del-Fi Records.

This mixed beatnik poetry with exotica arrangements. Ahbez promoted the album through a coast-to-coast walking tour making personal appearances, but it sold poorly.

During the 1960s, ahbez released five singles. Grace Slick's band, the Great Society, recorded a version of "Nature Boy" in 1966 and ahbez was photographed in the studio with Brian Wilson during a session for the Smile album in early 1967. Later that year, British singer Donovan sought out ahbez in Palm Springs, and the two wanderers shared a reportedly "near-telepathic" conversation. In the 1970s, Big Star's Alex Chilton recorded a version of "Nature Boy" with the photographer William Eggleston on piano. The song was finally released as a bonus track on the 1992 Rykodisc re-release of the album Third/Sister Lovers.

In 1974, ahbez was reported to be living in the Los Angeles suburb of Sunland, and he owned a record label named Sunland Records, for which he was recording under the name "Eden Abba." From the late 1980s until his death, ahbez worked closely with Joe Romersa, an engineer/drummer in Los Angeles. The master tapes, photos, and final works of eden ahbez are in Romersa's possession.

Ahbez died on March 4, 1995, of injuries sustained in a car accident, at the age of 86. Another album, Echoes from Nature Boy, was released posthumously."

[casuallyimagining]

When September Ends // part one.

Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Six years after leaving your home planet, you’re forced to confront your past… and the one you left behind.  Word Count: 4,128 Genre: Star Wars au, friends to enemies to lovers, angst Warnings: minor character death, survivor's guilt, yoongi has anger issues, mentions of the death of an entire planet, anxiety, alcohol, reader character suffers from the burden of high expectations, mentions of torture (nothing  explicit), mentions of needles, hospitalization, brief descriptions of scarring, brief descriptions of panic, hospitalization, an assassination attempt, a gun fight, murder

Notes: Thanks to @daechwitatamic and @the-boy-meets-evil for listening to me complain about this fic, helping me plan, and beta-ing for me; to @oddinary4bts for the late-game encouragement and edits.

Playlist: All of the poetry in this fic has been pulled from various songs and poems. You can find all the songs (and some others) in the playlist that I made for this fic on Spotify.

previous | masterlist | next

Fuck this planet, Yoongi thinks as he stalks his way through the corridors. It’s freezing. It’s always fucking freezing. Granted, it’s an ice planet, but he preferred the last base on the tropical forest moon, thank you very much. Sure, it had been so humid that his hair curled at the ends most days, but at least there, he could feel his toes.

Two junior pilots jump out of the way as he rounds the corner. He doesn’t blame them. He’s probably wearing quite the scowl, and the heavy steps of his boots against the steel flooring leave an angry echo reverberating through the mostly empty halls. For a moment, he considers apologizing–the junior pilots haven’t done anything, and he knows he should at least try to fit himself back in here. But then he’s standing in front of the door to his destination, and the apology dies before it even has the chance to form.

The doors hiss open mechanically, and the council room is already full. Yoongi picks his way through the crowd, eyes on the only empty seat in the room. Someone greets him, and he offers a quick nod in recognition but says nothing else. Suddenly, inexplicably, he’s nervous. This meeting was supposed to be with some of the higher ups–Yoongi expected some majors, a few captains, maybe a colonel. But some of the council is here, and he recognizes at least one general by the five pips on the man’s breastplate. 

Someone clears their throat just as Yoongi sits down, and it only takes a moment for the room to fall eerily quiet. He can feel every pair of eyes focusing on him, and Yoongi would love nothing more than to pull the hood of his puffy coat up over his head and hide away. He’s never been one for attention, but he does his best to appear nonchalant, like he doesn’t want the frozen ground to open up and swallow him whole. (He might not mind if it did.)

“Thank you for coming, Captain Min,” one of the commanders says.

Didn’t really have a choice, Yoongi thinks. But it’s not like I had anything better to do.

“We’ve received your official request to return to duty,” the commander–Commander Vela, Yoongi notes, though he’s only seen the man a small handful of times. “All six of them. Given the circumstances, we wanted to give you the opportunity to discuss this in person.”

What is there to discuss? Yoongi wants back in. He’s bored, itching to get back out in the field. He’s exhausted, he’s not sleeping, but that’s nothing a little adrenaline can’t fix. If he stays here, sitting around, doing nothing, he’s going to go fucking insane. And truthfully, not doing anything feels like he’s letting the Empire win, like Kitt and Feeney and Jieun’s deaths meant nothing. 

And he won’t let that happen.

But instead of saying all that, he says simply, “You need spies. I’m a spy. I don’t see where the issue is.”

Commander Vela hums, his attention falling to the data pad sitting on the table in front of him. “You’ve been through a lot, captain. Most men would, understandably, need to take time off to-”

“I don’t want time off.” Yoongi can tell his interruption isn’t taken well based on the grumbles that ripple through the room. But he can’t help it. If they would just listen to him, he could convince them that he was fine. Or, at least, that he would be fine if he could just get his life back to normal. “I’ve had time off. I want to get back out there. You need me back out there.”

It sounds cockier than he’d intended, but the sentiment is true. They’d just lost three of their best intelligence operatives. Yoongi knows they can’t afford to lose another. 

“How can we guarantee you’ll perform to standard?” A Mon Calamari major pipes up from the corner, his gravelly, grumbly voice cutting through the rabble that Yoongi’s words have caused. “How do you know you’re ready?”

The question catches Yoongi off-guard. “I just do,” he answers, and though it feels like a feeble, desperate answer, his voice comes out cool and confident.

More of the committee speaks up. Yoongi can feel his blood pressure rise as the questions come, both more probing and more asinine. How is he feeling? How is he processing? Is he still up to date on his marksmanship training (even though his marksmanship training was basically just here’s a blaster, go shoot stuff)?

He’s fine. He’s processing well. Why don’t you give him a blaster and stand at twenty paces, and you can check yourself if his training is up-to-date?

Yoongi feels like he’s being interrogated. Do they treat their Imperial prisoners like this? He can feel the heat on his skin, can feel the thrumming in his veins. He takes a deep breath to calm himself, forces himself to unclench his jaw. He can’t let them see how much the questioning has affected him, even if the effect is just to piss him off. If they think he’s anything less than perfectly collected, they’ll never let him back in the field.

A dark-skinned commander is halfway through a long-winded question about security protocols, and safety, and something else that Yoongi has lost track of when a voice rings out above the din of the room.

“This is ridiculous,” it says, and it takes Yoongi a moment to find the speaker.

His heart rate picks up, and he can feel his palms get clammy as he zeroes in on her. There, three seats to the left of Commander Vela. He’d know that voice anywhere. And when her eyes lock with his, the room stops, the rest of higher command doesn’t matter.

It’s you.

“Clearly he wants to come back,” you say, leaning forward out of the shadows. You observe him casually, almost bored. “We’re clearly in need, otherwise we wouldn’t be entertaining the idea. Just let him come back. Assign an in-field eval.”

Commander Vela hums, twirling the end of his mustache in his forefingers. From the corner, the Mon Calamari major grumbles his agreement. Some other members of the committee voice their displeasure with what you’ve said, but Yoongi watches as you simply turn your head to look at Vela, a small, seemingly innocuous smile on your lips. But Yoongi knows what it means. He’s seen it hundreds of times.

Gotcha.

The Commander clears his throat and nods in your direction. “An interesting compromise, major,” he says, and Yoongi doesn’t miss the hint of pride in the officer’s voice. “Very well. Captain Min will accompany you on your upcoming mission. With the two of you together, we should expect first-rate results.”

The world freezes. Yoongi’s heart stops. And then just as suddenly, it starts again, the thrumming going into overdrive. He is dismissed in slow-motion, and his body moves without his brain’s acknowledgement. Suddenly, he’s standing, and in a small handful of steps, he’s outside of the council room.

It’s much quieter out here. The hum of the electricity running through the walls, the howl of the freezing wind outside, the far-off cacophony of the rebellion’s finest doing what they can to stay prepared for a moment-notice fight. It all comes together, washes over Yoongi. It’s chaotic, but it’s also strangely comforting. The cold seeping through the walls, though still bitter and absolutely intolerable, cools his temperature and his temper easily.

Yoongi takes a deep, slow breath through his nose. A mission. With you. Upon which his future hangs precariously on the condition of success. Truthfully, he’s not sure how to feel. He’s excited. He’s nervous. He’s hopeful. But somewhere within him, there’s something bubbling, something angry, something that he doesn’t want to confront right now. So he pushes it down and vows to himself. 

He will be back in the field. This mission will go well. 

It has to.

The mess hall is crowded and loud, and Yoongi hates crowded and loud. But he manages to find a table in a corner, blocked by a wall, that isn’t quite so noisy. It’s been months, but people still avoid him. And he gets it. People don’t know how to talk to him anymore, and it’s not like he’s ever been the easiest guy in the world to converse with. He’s always found small talk difficult, always preferred to listen rather than speak. All of the friends he’s ever made have been more a reflection of their stubbornness rather than a result of his ability and desire to be outgoing. So despite the fact that the mess is practically full, Yoongi’s table in the corner remains single occupancy. 

That is, until you appear in front of him.

You stand there, holding a tray in one hand and a cup of caf in the other, your datapad tucked between your elbow and your body. “Mind if I sit?” you ask. It’s soft. He can barely hear it over the din of the room. 

For a moment, he stares at you, expression flat. You offer him a small smile. It’s a lifeline, he realizes, a peace offering. But something roils inside of him, something angry, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the slight air of apology he can see in your eyes. You have a look that says you’d like nothing more than to talk. Something in Yoongi wants that, too. But a larger part is six years deep into thinking his best friend is dead. And that part is pissed.

“I thought we could go over mission details,” you tell him, awkwardly shuffling so he can better see your datapad. As if keeping things strictly business might help bridge the gap. “I don’t know how you’re used to doing things–if you’d come find me or if-”

“I haven’t been able to find you for six years. I stopped trying a long time ago.” It comes out venomous, almost like an accusation.

He watches as your smile falters, can see in your eyes the exact moment it transitions from genuine to practiced. You cough, and nod once, very quickly.

“Okay. Just meet me in the hangar tomorrow at oh-nine-hundred.”

Yoongi watches in silence as you turn on your heel. He follows you with his eyes, watching as you power-walk to the mess exit, dumping your tray and your caf in a trashcan on the way out. The angry part of him quiets, and suddenly, he’s no longer hungry.

The klaxon is shrill in the once-calm cockpit. Outside the windshield, TIE fighters shriek past, their guns targeting the small transport ship. In the belly of the vessel, Yoongi can hear banging and shouting. For a moment, he considers going to help Feeney and Jieun prepare the escape pods. But then Kitt swears from the cockpit, and another alarm sounds, and Yoongi is rooted to the spot.

He watches the displays, unable to look away as the shields deplete steadily. Those Imperial fucks can’t hit the broad side of a star destroyer, and yet today, of all days, they’ve managed to nearly deplete the ship’s shields.

“This is Tatooine one-two-five-niner-oh-five requesting immediate ceasefire,” Kitt says into the ship’s comms. Yoongi can hear the desperation in her voice. “Please. We’re just a haulcraft.”

The comms crackles, but no reply comes. Kitt swears again. Kitt never swears unless things are really bad. The displays start to beep urgently, and Yoongi’s eyes are drawn to a flashing indicator on the wall to his left. Ten percent shields left.

Things are really bad.

“I can man one of the guns,” Yoongi offers, following Kitt out of the cockpit and down the ladder into the belly of the craft. He skips the last few rungs, jumping off when he’s still a foot from the ground. “Buy us some time.”

“No.” Kitt pats his shoulder and offers him a small smile. The scar on her upper lip pulls taught, and her smile looks almost broken in half. In her eyes, there’s a small fire. She’s determined to see this through. 

The look scares Yoongi.

“You go. Get in a pod.” She pushes Yoongi in the direction of one of the escape pods that Jieun and Feeney have readied. Kitt turns to Feeney and presses a small metal rectangle into his chest. “Take this,” she tells him. “Get out of here. We’ll be right behind you.”

For a moment, Feeney looks like he wants to protest. But then he shuts his mouth and nods. The ship can only launch two pods at a time. “Come on,” he says, clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. “You heard her.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what happens next. He can’t remember getting into the escape pod, doesn’t know how he managed to hit the ready to launch button on the internal console. He’s really not even sure if he turned on the encoded tracker. 

All he remembers is the pounding of his heart in his ears and the feeling of weightlessness as the pod decouples from the ship and the zero gravity of space takes hold. He remembers his pod floating away from the main ship, remembers watching in horror as a third pod attempts to deploy and the grappling arm sticking without letting go. He remembers seeing movement in the cockpit of the haulcraft, a blinding light, his pod rocking through space with the force of an explosion.

Yoongi jolts, and for a moment, he’s disoriented. Everything is spinning. He can still see the debris field, but slowly, it morphs into his quarters in the base on Hoth. It’s the chill that brings him back. The cold air on his exposed skin forces his mind back to now. He’s not even laying down–his back is against the metal wall, he’d fallen asleep with one leg tucked up against his chest. His pillow is at the other end of the cot entirely. 

Yoongi sighs, his heart still hammering in his chest. His head falls backwards against the cool of the metal, and he forces himself to breathe deeply.

That was months ago, he tells himself. Pull yourself together, idiot.

It feels like an eternity later, but eventually, his heartbeat slows, his breathing evens out, the adrenaline leaves his system. He’s exhausted–this is the fourth time this week the dream has plagued his sleep–but he doesn’t dare lie down. Instead, he gropes around his cot until his hand brushes against the screen of his datapad. He turns it on, and the cool blue of the letters on screen strain his eyes.

My friends, my friends forgive me That I live and you are gone There's a grief that can't be spoken There's a pain goes on and on

He’d been working on a poem when he’d fallen asleep. It was a habit he’d picked up from Kitt. Poetry and music, she’d told him once, were things the Empire could never take from you. They have their roots in your soul and bloom in your mind. As long as there are people, there will be poetry and music.

It’s only half true, Yoongi thinks bitterly, picking up his stylus and tapping into the document to edit it. He has poetry, but he’s lost the people he cared about most.

“If we do not leave in 20 minutes, our chances of success go down to-”

“Please stop talking,” you tell the droid, TK-53. You’re sitting on a crate just outside of your ship, waiting for Yoongi. 

Tee’s right, though. Yoongi’s over half an hour late, and if you’re not gone in 20 minutes, you won’t make it to Bespin in time. There’s a small window that you have to hit, just a short span of time where the Tibanna refineries’ contracts are up before they restart. You have to be there in that window, otherwise, you may as well give up. Major Kim would be stuck on the planet for another year.

Though, you suppose even if Yoongi turned up in the next ten seconds, you aren’t sure how successful the mission will be.

“Tee, check the med bay. Perhaps he fell ill.” 

The droid hums, and you can hear the whirring of her joints as she moves over to a panel in the wall. But before Tee can even access the panel, there’s a cough behind you. When you turn, Yoongi is standing there, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. It’s a small comfort that he looks like shit. His hair is a mess, and he looks exhausted. But when he wordlessly pushes his bag into Tee’s arms, you can feel yourself get angry.

“You’re late,” you say flatly, grabbing the bag from your droid.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Right.” You roll your eyes and motion for him to walk up the ramp into the ship. You shove his bag back to him as he passes you. Tee clanks in after him–a solid foot and a half taller, she has to duck to make it in the ship without bumping her head. 

As soon as you’re inside, the ramp starts to ascend into the hull of the ship. It’s small inside. The cockpit is the biggest part of the ship, but there’s a small cabin with hideaway beds and a galley. For a moment, it’s quiet. 

“Do you usually not care about your missions, or should I consider myself lucky?”

“What?” Yoongi’s brow furrows. He’s made himself comfortable in one of the jump seats in the cockpit.

“Can you at least pretend to give a shit about this mission?” You plop into the co-pilot’s chair. Tee has already started going through the pre-flight procedures. “I mean, honestly Yoongi. Did you act like this for your last commander? Because I wouldn’t-”

“Don’t talk about her.” His voice is deep, angry, and for the briefest of moments, you can see the hurt in his eyes. “Get pissed at me all you want, but keep her name out of your fucking mouth.”

Quickly, you pivot. “We had things to do this morning, Yoongi. Preparations. We needed to get papers made. Now we don’t have those. I didn’t tell you a specific time because I thought it would be fun.”

You barely register Tee speaking into the comms, asking for clearance to launch.

“I said I’m sorry, okay? You think I wanted to be late?”

“I don’t know!” You admit, exasperated. You turn in your seat and press the last few buttons in the launch sequence, and the ship rumbles to life under you. A slight jolt, and it’s up in the air. “I don’t know what you want anymore,” you mumble.

Behind you, Yoongi grumbles something, but you don’t pay attention to it. Your focus is on the console in front of you and getting the ship into hyperspace. It takes a few minutes of tense silence for you to get out of Hoth’s atmosphere and into the hyperspace lane. But as soon as the ship leans into the speed and the stars are speeding past the cockpit windows in a cluster of bright lines, you let yourself change focus.

You turn in your seat only to see that the jump seat is empty–Yoongi is gone. You can see him in the cabin, leaning against one of the bunks. Taking a deep breath, you let it out in a heavy sigh. 

It’s hard seeing him like this. The Yoongi you remember was quiet, but kind and gentle. So gentle that you’d had to stand up to bullies for him when you were children. There was a time when you’d tell each other everything. There had been plenty of nights when you’d sat on the roof of your building side by side, staring at the stars and dreaming of something better.

But a lot has happened in six years. You don’t blame him for the animosity, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Once again, you sigh. But then you force yourself to stand and step into the cabin. It’s quiet for a while. Yoongi doesn’t look at you as you make your way over to the galley and slide into one of the benches. Eventually, you get sick of the silence, sick of only hearing the hum of the hyperdrive all around you.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” you say quietly. “Why don’t we get the mission talk out of the way, hm? Start with that.” Then, maybe, you can get him calmer, less hostile.

He’s quiet, and you risk a glance over at him. His eyes are on the metal flooring as he chews on the inside of his cheek–a habit he’s had since he was a kid. But after a second, he pushes himself off the wall and stiffly moves to the seat across from you. Good. Progress. Progress is good.

You push your datapad across the small table so he can see the information. “We’re going to Bespin,” you explain. “To the Tibanna refineries in Cloud City. Major Kim Namjoon has been undercover there for almost a year.”

It doesn’t take long to describe the scope of the mission. Get in, get out, simple extraction. No combat anticipated, mostly just the two of you talking your way into getting Major Kim off-planet. On paper, it’s easy. In practice, you’re sure it’ll be more difficult. But there’s no way to know how things are going to go until you’re in the moment.

It doesn’t take long to explain. Yoongi has a few questions, and you’re happy to answer him. They’re simple, informative, and you get the sense that he’s testing the waters a bit. It’s a little tense, but it’s the most comfortable conversation you’ve had with him so far. 

When you’re done, he continues to look at your datapad, dark eyes scanning the mission log. He doesn’t look up when he speaks. “Where’d you go?”

You frown. You should have expected it, but the question still catches you off-guard. You know what he’s asking, know what he’s looking for, but fuck, you wish you didn’t. 

“Here and there for a few weeks,” you finally answer, playing with your fingers. “And then finally here, to the rebellion.”

He nods, and for a moment, you think he’s satisfied. But then, “Why’d you leave?”

“You know why.”

“Humor me.”

You sigh. You could walk away right now, not answer him and go back to the cockpit. You could hide behind duty and professionalism and rank. But something about you hates that idea. Yoongi was your best friend from ages six through 22. He deserves more than to be iced out. But god, did you really want to get into that blackhole now?

Finally, you settle on, “I was smothering on Fest. I had to get out.”

“You didn’t tell me.” He looks up, then, and even though his deep brown eyes don’t meet yours, you can see the hurt in them. Six years of it. And it crushes you. “You were my best friend. And you didn’t tell me you were leaving.”

“I did the best I could.” Your voice comes out shakier than you intend it to.

Yoongi stands. “You know,” he turns and makes his way over to the bunk he’s claimed, tossing his rucksack onto the floor, “there was a time I’d believe that.” He climbs into the bunk and rolls so that his back is facing you.

And with that, any hope of rekindling your friendship dies in your heart. Of course, it bothers you. So, despite everything in your soul screaming at you not to, you push.

“Why are you being such an asshole?”

“What?” His head turns so he can see you over his shoulder.

“You heard me. You’ve been nothing but an impossible, immature, impetuous asshole since you walked into your hearing. I-”

“Ever think that maybe it’s you?”

It’s a punch to the gut you weren’t expecting. You can feel the wind leave your sails. “What?”

“You’re the problem. I just want to get this mission done and get back in the field. That’s it. Just leave me alone, you don’t need to be annoying.”

You nod, despite the fact that you know he can’t see you. It’s the mess hall on Hoth all over again. Yoongi has always known how to disarm you. You used to think it was a good skill. As teenagers, you’d been able to calm each other’s tempers, keep each other grounded. But now, you aren’t sure that it’s such a good thing.

Your heart is heavy when you slip back into the co-pilot’s seat.

“We should arrive in Bespin airspace on schedule,” Tee reports, turning to you. “I’m detecting an abnormal heart rate, and your breathing is shallow. Should I begin protocol 04-”

“I’m fine, Tee.”

previous | masterlist | next

okay, so like.... how do we feel about the first chapter? I'm so curious to know your thoughts! my ask box is open--feel free to shoot me a message and let me know how we're feeling.

Yoongi's poetry this part is from "Empty Chairs at Empty Tables" from the musical Les Miserables.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Heyo! Love your work btw *chef kiss* I'm obsessed with your poly turtles stuff. Could you maybe do some Christmas poly headcannons? Seasonal Activities they do with their s/o, possible gifts they receive, fav cookies/treats, fav Xmas music. Idk just some festive stuff? If you're busy that's cool 😎 your poly turt stuff has me needing more haha. Thanks!

Ok, I'm pretty sure I got this before Christmas and it's now May. I'm so sorry. I won't go into all the reasons I haven't really been writing because it's a lot but I want to get back into it so here goes with this very unseasonal post lmao

and thank you everyone for you patience as I get back into the swong of writing for my blog

Raph

This big hunk of red and green first

He's very seasonal if you think about it

He's also super (secretly) into the holidays

catch him doing his rendition of rockin' around the Christmas tree very loudly when he's off his tits on eggnog

((side note I think he would hate eggnog but would drink it solely because it's festive))

He's secretly super sentimental and he knows you love this time of year so he really puts his back into it

I'm talking it's the 1st of December and he wakes you up in a full Santa outfit and white beard (that he knitted himself) yelling "Ho Ho Ho!" and asking if you've been naughty or nice

it's like 6am so you, naturally, tell him to piss off

to which he makes a big show of trying to shove you into his Santa sack because "Someone needs a trip to the North Pole to learn the Christmas spirit"

He's also pretty good with crafts

obvs you guys can't go outside and be seen so he creates a whole winter wonderland in the lair (without telling the others, Mikey was the only one who appreciated it tbh)

also he's a great cook so you spend evening after evening baking sugar cookies and decorating them, sipping hot chocolate with a candy cane in it and whipped cream on top, making warming winter soups.

In terms of gifts, he gets you anything and everything he even thinks you might like

real big spender this one

handmade too items like a scarf he knitted for you because your old one was a bit worn, handmade card, he even did a little snow globe that he made with figures of you and him inside of it

he'll say "I know it's lame" or "It's not the best but I tried" but it means the world to you

Leo

Big boy blue up next

I see him loving a very traditional, old fashioned, classic Xmas.

His big thing is that he loves to decorate the tree with you

but you would always bicker about how it should look

"No, I think a gold and red theme would look better!"

"But, Leo, we have all of these cute glass candy canes I wanna hang!"

"But I have a vision!!"

so this year he decides to buy like 6 trees (and by buy I mean forage, steal or cut down)

so you can both have your own trees and decorate them however you want

this, obviously, becomes a Christmas competition

your very unwilling judges are Leo's brothers and even Splinter

they have never looked more uncomfortable than when you and Leo are very passionately stating your case for why your tree is better than the other's and it ends in you both throwing baubles at each other

about half an hour and a lot of tinsel lying everywhere later you decide that maybe you're both a little too competitive

but Leo reassures that "That's why I love you"

He's so big on quality time with you

lot's of sitting by a crackling fire, sipping coco and letting soft Christmas songs play

he's made a playlist of v gentle ones like Eartha Kitt's Santa baby, Conventry carol and god rest ye merry gentlemen.

it's all about the mood w/ Leo

as far as gifts, it's has to be something personal and sweet

a pressed flower in resin from the first day you both met, a silver heart shaped locket with a pic of you both in it, some sort of talisman that's supposed to keep you safe in ninja superstition

Mikey

Time for chaotic good to come to play

Mikey just manages to capture that almost childlike enthusiasm and wonder for the season

He has a funny habit of wrapping your gifts to look like something else

last year you were certain he'd gotten you a rocking horse but it turned out to be a new phone and headphones

"How long did it take you to wrap it like that?"

"Don't ask questions you don't wanna know.....3 hours to make the horse part look right"

normally he gets you silly but sweet gifts

lots of sticking filler things

oh and he gets you an actual stocking too, but like a comically oversized one to fit all the gifts

stuff he's made too

one year he made you 50 hand cut paper snowflakes with 50 reasons he loves you written and drawn on them

also stuff you guys can do together

video games he knows you'll find fun, stupid interactive games that you can play, that kinda stuff

he does a special Xmas scavenger hunt for you each year that the others pretend is stupid but it keeps getting more elaborate as time goes on and even they are started to get invested in the ending

there's a theme and everything ranging from polar express to murder at the Christmas party to Santa's grotto....

he also never fails to dress up as Mrs Clause every year (because Raph insists on being Santa and at first Mikey just wanted everyone to laugh, but now it's kinda a tradition)

Donnie

oh my sweet gadget boy

he's super big into cocktails, the sweeter the better

and you always get to name them together but you both have a warped sense of humour so the names are getting out of hand

you pick a fave each year as well

last year was "The abominable snowman's frozen left nut" and the year before was "Mrs Clause putting glass shavings in Santa's food because he came back with the clap"

I told you they were bizarre....

his gifts are always thoughtful and so romantic

I HC Donnie as being a super romantic guy

whether it be a painting he made of the constellations and planets in correct placement on the night the two of you first kissed

or a wreath of dried flowers and plants to hang on the door that came from the field behind your childhood house

but this year it's a scrapbook filled to the brim with every detail of the two of you, all dated and with a little annotation telling a story as to why it's in there. photos, cards, handwritten letters, magazine cut outs, diary entries.... it's all in there and it's enough to make you cry.

He also sneaks you out on Christmas eve every year without the others knowing (they'd flip if they came to know that he was stealing you away at that time)

but he takes you up to the rooftops to sit on blankets and drink hot chocolate (spiked with a little rum, it's Donnie after all...) and look at the lights and snowflakes and people bustling home to their families and you sit and feel at peace and laugh as you make up backstories to each individual you see scurrying home

you lean against his shoulder and every year that he does this it feels more magical than the last

[whchenlvr]

Okay idk if you’ve done this already but I’ve been thinking about what pet names the Eungang boys and/or Union boys would use? Like babe, doll, baby girl, love, etc? Feel free to ignore if you don’t like it obviously lol, no worries!

Love your posts btw, thanks for all you do!! 💖

i’ve been wanting to do smth like this! thank you for the request 💞

pet names ;

weak hero x gn!reader

gray yeon

➤ sweethearttttt

➤ something about grey calling you sweetheart just gives me butterflies because i feel like it’d only happen on rare/special occasions

➤ "are you okay, sweetheart?" "you did great, sweetheart i'm really proud of you."

donald na

➤ straight off the bat, donald is 100% the guy to call you darling

➤ i’ve used this pet name before in previous headcanons bc MMMH

➤ "where do you think you're going, darling?" "evening, darling. miss me?"

ben park

➤ babe!!!! there is no doubt he IS a babe boy

➤ i know i use babe for ben all the time but !!!!! you can't tell me he wouldn't call his s/o babe. it's such a term of endearment for him like he just loves calling you babe

➤ "need anything from me, babe?" "babe! it's so boring here without you :(" "babe, you look so beautiful."

jake ji

➤ my love/lovely. it’s cute! and jake is certainly cute

➤ yk i feel like this would be a joke at first. he’d call you his love to tease or annoy you, but over time, it becomes natural

➤ "my love! you're home!" "how was school, lovely?" "love, love! new comic out tomorrow!"

wolf keum

➤ i don’t think he’d use pet names often, but one he’s grown quite fond of is doll

➤ it’d slip out when you’re most intimate with each other, like when he runs his fingers through your hair or when you’re just laying in bed together

➤ “tell me who did this, doll.” “thanks, doll. i owe you one.” “if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call me, doll.”

gerard jin

➤ no cause gerard calls you honey and it’s the cutest thing

➤ gerard is such a dork okay he’s adorable and honey or hun just becomes such a soft part of your relationship

➤ “you’re the best, honey.” “listen, hun, before you get mad, it was teddy’s idea—“

dean kwon

➤ i think he’d stick with a classic and call you baby

➤ idk dean seems like a classy dude like yes he can be playful about it but babyyy babyyyyyyy

➤ "hey, baby." “can you help me with something real quick, baby?” “baby, when someone threatens you with a knife, you’re supposed to run the other way!”

teddy jin

➤ rat. jk… jk :)

➤ i’m actually not sure. i think teddy would tease you with something like kitten, but in actuality i like to think he’d use something like sunshine <3

➤ “hey kitte—ow!” “can you pass me an ice pack, sunshine?” “i swear, sunshine, if they make you cry again..”

[saintsenara]

Tone-deaf Dumbledore singing “You’re So Vain” with Grindlewald in mind for karaoke night I am dead this is too powerful.

For 12: What are the rest of the faves performing at Dumbledore’s (mandatory) “let’s resolve our differences through the magic of song” afterlife karaoke night?

i regret to say that i have taken this and run with it...

[character ask game here; dumbledore the karaoke legend here]

portrait!dumbledore’s decision to turn up in the great hall in the middle of the battle of hogwarts and suggest that everyone just calm down and have a nice sing-song is initially met with some apprehension. but then an open bar appears in the room of requirement and the assembled enemies think they might as well…

harry gets things started with a spirited performance of holding out for a hero by bonnie tyler. it’s a hard act to follow, but dumbledore and voldemort manage it with their version of the boy is mine by brandy and monica [released in 1998, so good to see that they were both keeping up with the charts…].

this is a lot of male nonsense - and refereeing a battle definitely isn’t what she thought she’d be doing when she agreed to take a teaching job - so minerva grabs the microphone and delivers a barnstorming rendition of nine to five by dolly parton. the younger generation of women make this point too: ginny with cherry bomb by the runaways; fleur with celebrity skin by hole; and hermione with respect by aretha franklin.

luna, obviously, deviates from this with an uncomfortable cover of jefferson airplane’s white rabbit. backwards, since she claims this proves the existence of the crumpled-horned snorkack. luckily, ron decides to get everything back on track with she drives me crazy by fine young cannibals.

dumbledore notices that the death eaters have been awfully quiet, so he lures them in with an astonishing delivery of blue öyster cult’s don’t fear the reaper, with flitwick on the guitar. never willing to be upstaged, augustus rookwood, antonin dolohov, rabastan lestrange, and corban yaxley take to the stage with motownphilly by boyz ii men.

two death eaters are left out of the performance. lucius malfoy - who’s been in a flop era since the second voldemort strutted out of the cauldron - brings the vibe down with nobody knows you when you’re down and out [the sam cooke version, because that’s the best]. it’s taken down even further when rodolphus - who has finally twigged what his wife’s fondness for singing black is the colour of my true love’s hair in the shower means - rages his way through ray charles’ i believe to my soul.

bellatrix literally couldn’t give a shit. she’s on her feet, in a leather catsuit, and bringing the house down with i’d rather be burned as a witch, leaving eartha kitt in the dust.

the trio are impressed and reward her with a version of wannabe by the spice girls [harry’s baby, ron’s ginger, hermione’s scary, draco malfoy is posh, and dean is sporty - seamus was removed from the room for singing come out ye black and tans]. they are interrupted just as hermione’s rap begins by snape, bleeding profusely from the neck, staggering in to the opening bars of tubthumping by chumbawamba.

nagini, in an attempt at an apology for the whole tearing snape’s jugular thing, hisses a surprisingly beautiful rendition of al wilson’s the snake.

several vodka-and-tonics in at this point, lord voldemort is prepared to be convinced that maybe this is a better way of spending his time than all the murder. his musical bid for peace? don’t cry for me argentina. obviously.

the night is then ruined when percy whips out a guitar and says, "anyway, here’s wonderwall."

[alteregozowie]

"Heyyyyy, Al... I got another request for ya! Can ya please dedicate Santa Baby ta my Husky baby? And I've got some very specific instructions for him: tell him ta meet me in my room, make sure he's wearin' a Santa hat and nothin' else. I need Daddy Sinmas ta tell me if I've been a good boy this year..."

@top-shelf-tender

"Well Angel, I sure can play that for you- oh? What's this?"

"Oh gee, would you look at that- silly equipment! The broadcast cut off right after the word Husky! How unfortunate!"

"I'm so sorry, but here's the best version of this song anyways!"

[alln64games]

Pokémon Snap

JP release: 21st March 1999

NA: release: 26th July 1999

PAL release: 23rd March 2000 (AUS), 15th September 2000 (EUR)

Developer: HAL Laboratory

Publisher: Nintendo

N64 Magazine Score: 80%

This is a game I had as a kid, and I ended up trading it in (for a Robot Wars game on Game Boy, for all things) because of how much is annoyed me. All these years later, I still have the same major problem with the game: I can’t push back my ideals of a great photo in favour of what the game likes to have as a great photo.

Pokémon Snap is an on-rails shooter where you shoot Pokémon…with a camera (I’m sure that joke has been done many times before). Your vehicle moves on its own, but you can look in all directions to try and take photos of pokémon. Throughout the game, you will unlock apples, bombs and a flute that let you manipulate pokémon to get them into special poses, or to cause new ones to appear. This aspect of the game is the best part, as its a puzzle to solve.

At the end of each level, Professor Oak grades you on your photos. They have to be in the centre of the screen, take up most of the photo and ideally be striking a pose. You also get additional points for additional photos of the same pokémon in the same photo – other types don’t count. Which is my biggest issue with the game, especially as the game sets up many nice photos of multiple types – such as a diglet and pikachu playing together.

Solving the puzzle aspects of Pokémon Snap is a lot of fun, but I really don’t like the actual photography part of it.

Pokémon Snap also has the distinction of being the best realisation of the Pokémon universe to date. The locations are perfect – familiar and yet somehow other-worldly. The monsters behave just like you’d expect them to, and are cute beyond belief. Plus, there’s a challenging and engrossing game to play.

- Martin Kitts, N64 Magazine #45

Remake or Remaster?

Recreating these levels in New Pokémon Snap as additional content would have been nice.

Official Ways to get the game

There is no way to buy a new copy of Pokémon Snap the only official way to play is to rent it via the Nintendo Switch Online + Expansion Pak.

Re-releases

2007: Wii Virtual Console

2016: Wii U Virtual Console

2022: Nintendo Switch Online (Subscription Only)

[scriv3lloirl]

HELLOOOO ALL!!

I come bearin Kitt Todd art cus I know how much y'all love them, plus I was in th' mood t' draw them a bunch. (Thank you MSI fer bein what I listen too while drawin.)

I have plen'y of Kitt lore here—it isn't 100% historically accurate.. but I'm tryin here. History was nev'r m' favorite subject.

Feat. Pre-trans Kitt n their four younger siblings.

Tfem goals tbh

I know it says "9 years old" in th' first drawin—but I meant t' write "10 years old" whoops. I fuck up ages quite a lot here lol

Not m' favorite drawin I've done; fucked up th' face.

Kitt (Todd) is the eldest of five!! They were born in 1926, a few years b'fore The Great Depression n all'at.

Their parents are neglectful. Wit their mom sufferin from severe Postpartum Depression n their father nev'r bein home cus of work, th' responsibility of raisin their siblings was left on their shoulders. They were only six.

Douglas n Todd are best friends!! They met when Todd moved into a trailer home/park down in the South (sometime durin the 1930s) fer' their father's work.

They were both each other's first crush!! They were some of the older kids on the lot (who didn't have t' work yet) so they gathered a lot of the kids t'gether n they all had fun.

When Douglas was 12-ish he moved out of the park n t' a different state cus his father found a better job elsewhere.

Finally th' siblings!! (In age/birth order)

First is Kitt, who we all know n love. They're the (Oldest; age 34—they/them pronouns. Transfemme Non-binary, Gay.)

They legally changed their name t' Leslie in order t' start a new life after gettin out of a horrifically abusive relationship. (That ex is th' reason why they became a sex worker in th' first place. (They've been in the Sex Industry since they were 18.))

They moved away from their family, out of th' South, when they turned 22—b'fore endin up in Skid Row (age 26.)

They started workin at The Gutter (age 30) as it was the only place that'd higher "someone like them." There they met Audrey, who is one of their best friends, n, eventually, their love interest, Orin.

Second is Eugene. (Second Born; Age 32—he/him pronouns. Cis Male, Heterosexual.)

There's not much t' say bout Kitt's other siblin's, mostly cus I finally started thinkin bout them more a few days prior. But he's a door-to-door salesman.

He has a wife named Kathleen n a daughter, Tamsin. They're expectin a baby boy soon. (Named Archie)

Third is Lester!! (Middle child; age 31—(ignore how it says 34. It's wrong)—he/him. Cis Male, Panromantic Asexual.)

He's a hippie n he's pretty cool. Th' only kid that still keeps in contact wit Kitt after all this time.

Last are the twins.

Virginia (Second Youngest (but older by two minutes); age 28—she/her. Cis Female, Biromantic Heterosexual.)

She's works at a hair salon as a stylist!! She's single and own a pet cat name Jewels.

An'

Constance (Youngest; age 28—she/her. Cis Female, Heterosexual.)

She works as a school teacher, n is engaged to a pilot named Herb Brewer. She's already expectin a baby, who they hope to name Peter (or Polly.)

I feel like I should mention that I nev'r came up wit a family name fer' these guys.. uhhh... I guess suggestions are open fer that?

If there's any misspellin's or anythin.. ignore it. I've been drawin n starin at a phone screen fer th' last 10 hours lol