#like so much really i don't have words

[thissortofsorcery]

I've been receiving a lot of love for Barbarian Youth recently, and I'm so so so grateful for it. You have no idea. Anyway, I wanted to share what my favorite scene from BY is, to remember why I love this ship so much.

This is from Chapter 12, so a little ways into the fic.

--

Billy picks a direction and starts walking. 

He doesn’t know how long he walks, or where he’s going. There’s nowhere to go. The wind is biting, cutting into his cheeks and making his eyes dry. At least it helps numb the pain in his nose. Billy curses, pulling his jacket tighter around himself.

He sticks his finger in his mouth, hoping to stop it bleeding, at least, since he can’t bandage it. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

His mind feels sluggish, thoughts rolling slow like molasses, but not in a relaxed way like when he’s high or drunk. Thinking about his dad, or the Demogorgons, feels like it takes too much energy, and they slide away as soon as they come. He keeps thinking of song lyrics, for some reason.

He’s halfway through Jump In the Fire when he registers a voice calling his name. He stops walking, looking around confused, until a hand lands on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Billy?” He hears, and turns around to see Knight standing there, goggles and bandana and black jacket, but no nail bat in sight. He blinks, trying to situate himself.

He has no idea where he is. He must have driven past this street a hundred times in the last few weeks, but he doesn’t recognize it. The houses are small and sparse, woods sprawling in the backyards of one side, and only half the streetlights are lit.

The wind blows through him, and he shivers.

“Knight,” he says, and swallows. He tastes blood.

What’s Knight doing here? How did he find Billy?

“What are you doing here?” Knight asks, grabbing him by both his shoulders. Billy almost laughs. That’s what he wants to ask. “What the hell happened?” 

“I'm fine,” Billy says, and shakes his head. It makes his ears ring. “I'm just—” He trails off. he doesn’t know what he is. An idiot, probably. A piece of shit.

“You're not fine. You’re bleeding, man,” Knight says, and even though the bandana muffles his voice, Billy can hear the concern in it. For some reason, instead of annoying him, it spreads a warm feeling through his chest.

“Yeah, I know,” Billy says. There’s nothing he can do about it, is there?

“Jesus. Where’s your car?” Knight asks, looking around like the Camaro’s just gonna be parked somewhere and Billy’s taking a stroll for fun.

“I don’t have it.” 

“You're on foot?!” Knight’s voice hits a high octave, and it almost makes Billy laugh. He manages a crooked smile.

“Yeah, Knight, I’m on fucking foot,” Billy says, only not annoyed because Knight’s hand has moved from his shoulder to cupping his neck.

The tension on his shoulders dissipates, not gone but lessened to a degree that makes Billy sway slightly forward, and Knights hands tighten on him. He’s been walking with every muscle locked and ready to either run or throw himself into a fight for his life for god knows how long, and the fact that Knight is here now makes his whole body relax. In the back of his mind, he’s thinking I’m safe now. 

Billy doesn’t know when that happened. He doesn’t know if he’s okay with it.

“Hang on, let me…” Knight says, and takes his hands back. Billy has to fight back a groan. 

Knight’s opening his fanny pack, pulling out several things that he tells Billy to hold: alcohol wipes, peroxide, cotton balls, bandages.

“You got a whole drugstore in there?” Billy says, watching him pile on stuff in his hands.

“Shut up,” Knight says, and Billy snickers. I makes his lip sting.

Knight cleans the cut on his lip first, the peroxide stinging when it touches skin. It’s gonna taste like shit, Billy thinks distantly. Like he should be caring about the taste of his mouth right now. 

Knight uses the alcohol wipes to clean the blood off his face, after. Thankfully it’s stopped bleeding at some point when he was wandering aimlessly, and some of it’s already dried and flaking off. Knight’s hands are gentle on his face, tilting his chin up and trying not to rub too hard. When he touches Billy’s nose, his fingers make Billy wince, and Knight backs away immediately.

Billy’s face feels cold without Knight's hands on his face.

“Sorry,” he says, voice low. Billy can’t look away from him. “It's not broken, at least. But your eyes are already bruising.” 

“You sure, doc?” Billy can’t help but tease, even if it’s his own nose they’re talking about. He’s had his nose broken before, it’s no big deal.

“I’m certified in First Aid,” Knight says disapprovingly. He doesn’t seem to think Billy should make light of the situation.

Mostly, Billy’s glad he’s not alone anymore. The relief is heady, and it makes him feel lightheaded. Or maybe that’s the punch he got.

“Because you were a lifeguard, right?” Billy says, remembering the conversation they had while Billy was practicing killing Demogorgons.

“Yeah,” Knight says. Billy thinks he might be smiling. “It's useful for this stuff, though. I have to patch myself up a lot.” 

The thought of that makes Billy shudder.

“Are you gonna freak out on me if I ask where you got these?” Knight asks, pulling Billy out of his head. The question douses him in cold water, though, and Billy flinches back. 

“It's none of your business,” he snaps. No way he’d want Knight to know about his dad. Not when Knight carries a nail bat around and smashes monsters for fun. He’d think Billy’s a pussy.

“Okay,” Knight says easily. Billy expected him to push. Not that he has any right to demand information about Billy, because he never tells Billy anything. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Billy almost shakes his head, but his finger twinges as if to remind him. He lifts his hand, still streaked with blood.

“Do you have a bandaid in there?” He asks. When he looks up from his hand, Knight’s covered face is very close. In this distance, he can almost make out Knight’s eyes.

When Knight touches his hand, Billy shivers. He holds Billy’s hand in one of his, and takes out more alcohol wipes to clean the blood off. The whole time he works, Billy watches his face.

His heart’s beating fast, and it feels like his stomach is being sucked into a black hole, because Knight’s fingers are warm despite the cold, and they’re holding Billy’s hand more gently than Billy’s felt in— years, actually. Knight’s hand is calloused from handling the bat, and everywhere their skin is touching, Billy feels his tingle. He has the strangest urge to flip his hand down and hold Knight’s, intertwine their fingers, just to see what Knight would do.

He can hear Knight breathing under his bandana, and it’s a calm, steady rhythm that locks Billy’s attention almost completely. It’s all he can focus on, the sensations in his hand and the sounds of Knight’s breath, the scant distance between their faces, separated only by a few inches of air and a cloth.

“Are you cold?” Knight’s voice snaps Billy out of it, and he blinks at Knight.

“What?” 

“You're shivering. That jacket’s too thin to be out at this hour. It’s really cold out, now,” Knight says, and he steps even closer. Their proximity doesn’t seem to bother him. 

There was something Billy had to tell him, about the cold. But he can’t remember.

“Billy?” 

“I'm fine,” Billy says, and steps back. He feels the cold immediately, and shudders again. “I'm not a wuss.” 

“Yeah, right,” Knight scoffs. “Hang on.” 

Before Billy can protest again, Knight turns and walks away, and it’s only then that Billy registers the car parked a few feet from him, and that the light that’s been shining over them is the headlights. From this distance and with the headlights on, Billy can only make out that it’s small, but nothing else. 

The driver’s seat is open, like Knight just got out of the car and ran to Billy earlier, and the thought does funny things to his insides. Knight reaches in, disappearing into the car, and comes back with a bundle in his hands.

“Here,” he says, and hands it over. Billy takes it with numb fingers.

It’s a sweater, knit fabric dark and thick, softer than anything Billy’s ever worn. It looks like it could be dark blue, the color not really visible in the low light. Billy runs his fingers over it, distractedly, mind blanking on how to react.

“Put it on,” Knight says, hands raising halfway toward Billy, then falling back. “You're gonna freeze.” 

Billy huffs and takes his jacket off so he can put the sweater on. The smell of it hits his nose instantly, rich and clean, with a hint of expensive cologne that Billy’s sure he recognizes from somewhere. He does feel warmer when he puts his leather jacket back on, but he doesn’t want to give Knight the satisfaction, so he doesn’t say anything. 

Then distance’s helped Billy get his brain back into gear, and he remembers what was so important that he had to tell Knight.

“I gotta talk to you about something,” he starts. “It’s about the Demogorgons.” 

(read it on ao3)

[egophiliac]

I have SO many thoughts about everything and they are in no kind of order yet, so here's just some quick little bits in the meantime!

I am not normal about any of these characters!

[mokolat]

[yoinkschief]

please don't look at me this is the first time I've been self indulgent about Sonic since I was a kid this is making me flustered hrhghhh Amy Rose nothing could ever make me hate you

[annieisyourfavourite]

so sorry but that post about "the reason boys and men are being radicalized is bc girls are mean to them" is driving me up the fucking wall. maybe i really am just on a different internet than the rest of you but. this sentiment of "women are being bitches who don't care about men and that's why there's Problems now" is like. such an alpha male podcast classic take. like it's literally "not all men". it doesn't magically become better bc u say stuff with liberal terminology. jesus christ

[renaerys]

"And perish."

A Quiet Thunder by @renaerys

Art by @hallous

[meownotgood]

haha hey so apparently someone stole my whole fic... copy and pasted except for tiny things changed... here is the link to their """fic""" (sorry random person I had to steal the reblog from). they've since deleted the fic off their blog + deleted their ao3 + gone on a hiatus so..... that's cool and whatever....... but they have written a lot of other shit so... don't be a dick but maybe check that for funny business too...

[secriden]

I woke up this morning still thinking about Fadel waking up in Style's bed.

I wonder what was running through Fadel's head as he turned to look at Style, eyes still squinting against the too-bright morning light, the unfamiliar comfort of the shape of Style's name on his lips for the very first time. I wonder if he was too sleepy to process how strange it was that he didn't really mind being pinned down by the weight of Style's thigh thrown over his hips; that the sensation was grounding and reassuring rather than being confining or suffocating. I wonder if the thought crossed his mind that he wouldn't mind waking up like this again, wouldn't mind letting someone into his space, wouldn't mind giving someone the bared vulnerability of lying naked and unprotected with all the implications of unwavering trust that has -- not if it was with him.

I wonder if Fadel registered the way his heartbeat is steady and calm despite the strange surroundings and unfamiliar bed, because something in him has already labelled the person lying next to him as safe.

I wonder if Fadel even understood that this, right here, in all its quiet and unacknowledged stillness, was the moment he fell in love?

[vynnyal]

Making content for all 5 tcf fans out there

Bonus:

[arthursfuckinghat]

There needs to be a scientific study done on how Rockstar Games' Arthur Morgan is able to provoke the most earth shattering emotions I didn't even know I had in me

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.

[inkskinned]

it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.

yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.

it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.

how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.

chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?

how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.

"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.

i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.

[canisalbus]

Different Italian anon, but the thing with Tuscan C is that it's pronounced like a very strong H sound, which is extra weird cuz the letter H makes no sound in Italian, normally. It sounds the way Spanish pronounce the J. We say it's "aspirato". So then people from there will say things like Hoha Hola (coca cola), and it's funny. It's also extremely contagious, I got family in Florence, you spend 3 days with them you start doing it too before you even realize.

.

[demigod-of-the-agni]

kurunthokai, 168 — “what the hero said to his heart”

[ticklepinions]

Raise your hand if you feel utterly behind in life 🫠