#my precious space hobo

[mellicose]

I mean...

He does have a wand.

dr who doesn’t know what gravity is but he CAN read auras so watch out

[wolfoftheblackflames]

Another piece of the fic for you misfits, enjoy!

The Devil and The Innocent: Pt.6

Meanwhile, with Adam and Lute, the two paid a visit to Little Pride's favorite duo. Vox and Valentino. “So tell me, what can we do for you?” The man with the black slicked back hair and pronounced jaw asked as his bald partner with glasses leered at Lute.

Adam smirked, placing a simple bag of coins on the table. “See I want to make an ex soldier of the Exorcist Platoon my little slave. And I know you two are the best at getting that done.” The man grinned.

“You're allowed to do it painfully as well. And we both know you two hate Carmilla Carmine and her little brats.” Lute added not bothered by the creepy look Valentino gave her.

“Oh, it seems like you two are asking us to make Carmilla disappear..” Valentino mused as the Hispanic man grinned evilly.

“More like kidnap and beat the shit out of.” Lute replied with a sadistic grin. “And then that little cunt will have to do anything to get her precious family back.”

“Damn Lute you're going murder hobo on me.” Adam winced knowing that grin. “But yeah, make the Carmine bitches beg and squeal, then our little Vagasaurus will have to accept that she's all mine.” He laughed.

“Consider it done.” Vox chuckled, offering his pale skinned hand. “Thank you for your patronage Mr Dickmaster.”

All four chuckled evilly as now Carmilla had no idea what was coming to her.

----

Elsewhere in her home Carmilla leaned against her large chair with a growl. She really hated having to get her hands dirty, but with her instinct being right on nobody willing to help her the taller woman had no choice. “Hold on Vaggie, I'm coming for you.” She growled, grabbing out her more dangerous foot attire.

A knock came to her door as Carmilla got her sharpened hidden blades on. “What the?” She blinked and then she heard a voice.

“Come out seniorità, you don't have a choice in the matter.” Valentino sneered with his many golden tooth goons. The lackeys went straight for the door with a battering ram.

Carmilla moved out of the way snarling. How dare they break into her home?! The Latina growled and slipped out through the back rushing towards Hellfire Forest on foot while being quiet as to not alert the small army.

“Tch Vox isn't going to like this. Oh well those daughters of hers will be back soon too.” Valentino grinned walking away.

Carmilla dashed through the increasingly colder forest. Her chest heaving softly as she tried to find that place. The forest however summoned more of those creepy monsters. “Shit!”

----

Back at the Palace, Vaggie was smiling at Charlie who held a box in her big paws. “Here is a gift for you.” She stated handing it to Vaggie.

“You're spoiling me a little too much.” Vaggie replied feeling a little overwhelmed.

“Please open it.” The Devil grinned with her tail wagging.

Vaggie rolled her eye at Charlie, she then peeked into the box and blinked seeing the most gorgeous necklace she'd ever seen. It was a golden chain with a pair of angel wings that had extended out from a beautiful amethyst. “Sus hermosas..” (It's beautiful) came from a shocked Vaggie's lips. “Can I put it on you?” Charlie asked fidgeting.

Vaggie nodded softly, moving her gorgeous long hair as she felt Charlie move behind her, the Devil carefully unclasping the necklace and draping it over Vaggie's chest. “You look so pretty!”

“It does suit you.” Husk smirked.

“Yeah blondie here was frantically searching for it all day!” Angel teased as Charlie growled at him.

This caused Vaggie to laugh but she then gently took Charlie's paw. “Would you like to read with me?” She asked as she chuckled, seeing that tail wag as an answer.

Husk ushered everyone back to work to give the two some space by the fire. He smiled a bit seeing Charlie happily watching each page turn and listening intently to Vaggie.

----

Angel grinned and gathered everyone together as Husk jumped up on the quacking foot stool. He was soon knocked off with a grumble by Alastor who grinned. “Hey radiohead, what are ya doing?!” The candlestick growled waving his flames at Alastor.

“I know what you all want to do, and to be quite clear, this little wind-up cat won't be able to do it well.” The radio playfully grinned.

“Alastor, don't be such a bully darling. But I am curious to hear what your plan is.” Rosie replied with Niffty just zipping around cleaning.

“And you know what romance is?” Angel asked, growling.

“No my shiny pink chap, I don't even care for it. But I do know how to make a place feel like romance will happen.” Alastor used his antenna to straighten his nob bow tie.

Angel looked skeptical at him as the radio continued. “You all want to be human again don't you?” He smirked, poking a sore spot on everyone.

“Fine, but one wrong move and I'm setting ya on fire!’ The candlestick growled helping Husk up.

“Fair enough.” Alastor laughed. “Now my little friends it is time to break this annoyance once and for all.” (Cue to be human again)

The crew went about doing their jobs to make this romance blossom. Angel playfully danced with Husk, Cherri looked amused, Velvette was smug as ever, Rosie was grinning as she orchestrated the other enchanted knick knacks, Alastor got the musical instruments ready, and Niffty despite being a small cup, got the room spotless.

Outside kept bustling and cleaning, Velvette smirked and dove into the fountain as a way to steal the spotlight.

“Damn it Velvette!” Cherri snapped as the crew grumbled while walking to go dry off.

----

It was later during a bath Charlie whined being scrubbed. “Wait, you want me to do what?!”

“Don't worry toots, you'll do alright with Vagina. Besides, you don't have much time left anyway!” Angel replied pointing to the golden rose. “Even Al, who is surprisingly good at music, is helping out. Didn't expect that interview radio host to actually help too.”

Charlie glared at Angel shaking her fur and splashing him purposely. “It's Vaggie.” She defended but then sighed walking around the room. A coat rack started to dry her off as she sighed. “Look, I know time is running out… I just dunno if I can do this.” The Devil sighed feeling her fur being combed back.

“C'mon blondie, it's obvious you love her right?” Angel stated standing on the vanity. “Love…?” The Devil blinked lightly placing a paw to her chest. “More than anything yes..” She sounded so soft and innocent.

Angel smiled and lightly took her free paw while his candle hands were out. “Then open your heart up again. Seriously, it's possible that miss bookworm likes ya too.”

Charlie lifted her head at that and stared at him. She was scared to open up, but with how much she enjoyed being with Vaggie, it's a risk she had to try taking. “Okay…”

“Alright let's get cha looking so good our little guest will swoon!” Angel grinned.

After awhile Charlie was ready as Husk bowed politely. “Come this way my princess. Your date awaits.”

----

Vaggie on the other hand groaned at the assortment of dresses Velvette had shown her. “Quit being a picky pissy bitch already!” The dresser growled looking annoyed. “Bloody hell you're annoying.”

“I don't need some dresser who thinks she's hot shit to pick for me!” Vaggie retorted pointing her spear at Velvette.

“Fine, come out ugly as fuck!” Velvette left hopping away.

Lucifer winced seeing the two bicker. He then tapped Vaggie on the arm. “May I be some assistance?” He asked.

“What do I have to lose..” Vaggie groaned, pinching her nosebridge.

Lucifer smiled and motioned over Razzle and Dazzle, who circled Vaggie looking her over and then diving into the other closet. “I think something like this would make you look like a beautiful dame Maggie.”

Vaggie looked annoyed at him but then turned her head towards Razzle and Dazzle who pulled out a truly gorgeous looking dress. “Sir… I don't think.. I don't deserve such a beautiful thing…”

Lucifer lightly touched her arm again. “My friend you do. You've made my little char-char smile again! As a father it's all I've ever dreamed of seeing.” He quacked smiling. “And I think she sees you as someone deserving of love too.”

Vaggie blinked, she looked hesitant but what he said filled her with warmth, it was strange and new. Unlike her found family bond with the Carmines, this was different. “Alright sir…” She gulped and went to put on the dress behind the screen.

(Hiya, hope you guys enjoyed the well awaited dance scene, I loved writing it ^^)

[emeritus-fuckers]

Congrats to 1k followers! You definitely deserve them and more. This is for the Match-up event re-run :) Thank you very much in advance 🖤

Your identity - She/they (AFAB nonbinary) and bisexual. My current best guesses 😎

Who do you like? - Papas + Ghouls

What do you look like? - 5'8", plus size and pear shaped. Dark red shoulder-lenght hair, glasses, blue eyes, few tattoos. I mostly wear black, black jeans, black graphic t-shirts, flannels. Style resembles that of a hobo witch, emo teenager or dad who listens to rock music. More masculine or gender neutral style, if I can help it.

What's your personality? - Introverted, analytical, anxious, short-tempered at times, often grumpy, procrastinator. I try to be friendly and helpful, but I need lots of alone time. I have insane organizational skills ('cause anxiety) and people tend to rely on me too much because of it. I often end up in a leading role in a friend group and I think I have decent sense of (dry) humour. I have trouble getting out of my own head and sometimes I can't shut the fuck up (I do be thinking I'm a stand-up comedian in my rare extrovert moments).

Tell us about your interests! - Writing, books and dark academia stuff and aesthetic. Ghost (obviously), Baldur's Gate (recently), space and astronomy, witchcraft (tarot, cool rocks...), RPing, D&D, guitar and piano.

Trivia time! - I think you got it all up there :)

This post is part of the 1000 followers match up event. Entries for the event are now closed.

Your match is... Sodo

You get to see his softer side. He's still grumpy and impulsive but he never aims it at you. So he totally understands your short tempered and grumpy side.

Once he was sure you liked him and that you were wanting to be with him. He just kinda turned to you and bit your shoulder. You look at him slightly shocked as he licks the wound and then declares you are his mate. It's the look of love you catch in his eyes, the total adoration that makes you ralise what a big deal this is.

He looks round to make sure no one is looking and then pulls you into a quick kiss. "That is okay right?" He says with a smile. He rarely ever kisses anyone so it's a big deal. He'll rarely kiss you but it just makes them all the more precious. Of course you say it is and you spend that night celebrating.

He's not too big on affection but he won't push you away if you initiate. He will however hold you if you need it, he loves you and wants to do whatever he can to help with you anxiety.

He loves to bring you things, little presents. He leaves these gifts lying around for you to find.

He will always protect you and stand by you. If you say you need alone time, he will make sure you get it. He will ensure everyone leaves you in peace.

If you've had a really bad day, he'll build a pillow fort for you both to chill inside, out of the way where no one can annoy either of you further.As a fire Ghoul he is always nice and warm, so you can just cuddle close to him while you write or read and never be cold.

~

Written by Nyx

[wildfire317s-oc-box]

My nicknames for the demon slayer / kny characters (probably gonna be edited as time goes on):

Tanjiro: checkers, fox-cub, country bumpkin #1, cannon-ball, simba, glitched eevee

Nezuko: dynamite, foxlette, bunny-rabbit, local cleric

Zenitsu: bug-zapper, sparky, thunder, lightning bolt, zen-, simp lord, timone, pikachu

Inosuke: piggu, oinker, boar-boy, country bumpkin #2, mankey, pumba

Murata: squeaker, lucky clover, mister nine lives

Genya: fluff-ball, grumpy gills junior, half 'n' half, hyena-boy, beastie

Kanao: lucky-flip

Aoi: lapis, sky blue

Sabito: sabi-, fire fox, soggy/sabi-fox, fox-boy, the ginger, local red-head, short-stack, short-king, secret weasly

Makomo: momo-chan, sky-fox, quick-silver, shorty, daisy-chain

Giyuu: shadow, shadow-fox, fox-fox, espresso-depresso

Urokodaki: fox-dad, old man river

Kyojuro: Ren-, K(i)yo, Phoenix, fire-chicken, owl boy, (my apologies in advance) donut man

Shinjuro: mega butt-lord, maltov, head-butt practice, gunpowder fuse

Senjuro: owlet, Sen-, baby-phoenix, sweet bean

Kanae: monarch, lilac, sweet one

Shinobu: lavender, butterfly, grumpy one, chihuahua

Sanemi: feral-ass, gremlin man, feral pomeranian, cottonheaded ninimuggins, cotton poof, grumpy gills senior, shouty mc-lionmane the second (the original being nishiki from tokyo ghoul), deranged dandelion, dunkass

Uzui: loud-mouth, gaston knock-off, bastard ass, obnoxious mf, tryhard ninja, man-hoe, rich prick, pickpocket-bait, spoiled jackass, captain crack-head, testiclies high dumbass of testosterone

Muichiro: Mui-, -chiro, misty, cloudy-boy, spacer, space-cadet, pedo-buster, smol-bean

Mitsuri: love-bug, melon-stripes, best-girl (of the humans), cat-girl, sweet-girl

Iguro: snek, sneky-snek, snake-boy, snake-charmer, zebra-stripes, duo-chrome, dress boy (you all know the dress i mean if you look at his entire color-palette), icyhot, sneaky simp

Gyomei: gentle giant, beastie-tree, tibetin-mastiff, the tall one, prayer beads, mister budda beads

Kaigaku: Kai-, evil-sparky, local rogue, invert-color-zenitsu, black-lightning, gender-bent azula, tiger-cub

Kokushibo/mitchikatsu: koku-, mitchi-, -shibo, sixer, moony, Kaigaku's dad, ponytail

Douma: frosty, blondie, ink-splat, great-dane, daki & gyutaro's dad, rainbow-brain, lounge-lion, kaleidoscope eyes

Akaza/Hakuji: cat-boy, tabby-stripe, raging-bisexual, pinky, -kaza

Nakime: Naki, rapunzel, mademoiselle noir, Naki-nak's

Hantengu: -tengu, murder-hobo, bird-brain, lord of bullshitery, han-, mousey

Gyokko: shape of water, fish for brains, dollar-store axolotl, house-plant, shitty-wizard, pedo-fish, off brand anish kapoor

Daki: material-girl, alt-timeline barbie (if you know you know), miss wears pink on wednesdays

Gyutaro: pretty paint-splatter boy, cutie-spots, pretty pretty gyutaro, floofy-hair, sharky, snarky-shark, gyu-, taro-taro, hyena-shark, hyena-man, mantis, floof-floof-cotton-poof, paint/ink splatter cutie

Enmu: enmu the tank engine, train-boy, emu, goat-eyes, (^w^)/OwO face, crazy-train, (in reference to his disembodied hand alone) off brand thing, HMS (his majesty's simp), the OwO translator

Ubume: n/a

Rokuro: geode, lower moon dad 2, rock-uro

Hairo: grouchy wolf, grumpy guns, dollar store cowboy

Wakuraba: elf-ears, off-brand legolas

Mukago: fuzzball, whiskers, fluffy-horns

Rui: spidy, spider-boy, ru-ru, rui-ru, web-slinger, tiny bean, smol gremlin, precious pain in the ass, adorable lil shit, squishy, squishy-cheeks, raging ball of white fluff, spidy/spider-paws

Kamanue: baby-dragon, kama-kama, kama, nue

Kyogai: tiger-stripes, tiger, kyo-, looks like a dad (not even kidding he looks very similar to my actual dad just put a goatee on him), mister its a kilt, captain funky music, big drummer-boy, lower moon dad 1

Tamayo: tama-san, tama-tama, the science queen

Yushiro: bratty-cat, simp king

Susumaru: maru, susu, maru-chan

Yahaba: triple a, mister hand-eye coordination, off brand death the kid

[castrateurfate]

Alright, guys.

Here's a list of the DVDs in my room.

Rate My Taste

Here:

13 Assassins

2001: A Space Odyssey

300

47 Ronin

8 Mile

A Fistful of Dollars

AVP2: Requiem

Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter

Account Rendered

Adaptation

Afro Samurai: The Complete Murder Sessions

Airplane!

Akira

Alien vs. Predator

Alley Cats

Amadeus

Amelie

Anastasia

Arachnophobia

Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery

Back To The Future

Barry Lyndon

Batman

Batman Ninja

Batman TAS: Secrets of The Caped Crusaders

Batman TAS: Tales Of The Dark Knight

Batman: Gotham by Gaslight

Batman: Mask of The Phantasm

Battle Royale

Beetlejuice

Being John Malkovich

Ben-Hur

Big Eyes

Big Fish

Big Time Rush: Halfway There

Bill

Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey

Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure

Birdman: (The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance)

Black Dynamite

Black Mama White Mama

Black Swan

Blackkklansman

Blade Runner: The Director's Cut

Blazing Saddles

Bonnie and Clyde

Boogeyman

Bowling For Columbine

Breakfast at Tiffany's

Breaking Bad

Breaking Glass

Brexit: The Uncivil War

Brokeback Mountain

Bubba Ho-Tep

Bugsy Malone

Bula Quo

Capitalism: A Love Story

Capote

Casablanca

Chicago

Children of Men

Churchill: The Hollywood Years

Citizen Kane

Clash Of The Titans

Clash of The Titans

Cleopatra Jones

Cloud Atlas

Clueless

Coffy

Commando

Conan The Barbarian

Control

Coraline

Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon

Curse of The Golden Flower

David Brent: Life On The Road

Dazed And Confused

Deadpool

Deadpool 2

Death Note

Death Proof

Demolition Man

Descendants

Dirty Harry

Django Unchained

Doctor Zhivago

Dodgeball

Dog Soldiers

Double Indemnity

Dowton Abbey: Series One

Dr Strangelove Or How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love The Bomb

Dr Suess' How The Grinch Stole Christmas

Dr. No

Drunken Angel

Drunken Master

E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial

Ed Wood

Edward Scissorhands

Elfie Hopkins

Escape Plan

Evil Dead

Evolution

Extras: The Complete First Series

Fahrenheit 9/11

Falling Down

Fame

Family Guy Presents: Blue Harvest

Family Guy: Season Nine

Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas

Ferris Bueller's Day Off

Finding Netherland

Flashdance

Footloose

Forrest Gump

Forrest Warriors

Foxy Brown

From Dusk Till Dawn

From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money

From Dusk Till Dawn 3: The Hangman's Daughter

From Here to Eternity

Frost/Nixon

Frozen

Funny Face

Gatsby

Ghost Dog: The Way if The Samurai

Ghost In The Shell

Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex Vol. 1

Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex Vol. 2

Ghost In The Shell: Stand Alone Complex Vol. 5

Ghostwatch

Gnomeo & Juliet

Godzilla

Gone With The Wind

Grave of The Fireflies

Gremlins

Groundhog Day

Hail, Caesar

Happy Gilmore

Harry Hill's TV Burp Gold

Harry Hill's TV Burp Gold 2

Harry Potter And The Order of The Phoenix

Harry Potter and The Philosopher's Stone

Hero

Hideo Nakata's Dark Water

High and Low

Highlander

History: Poltergeists

History: Spontaneous Human Combustion

History: Vampires

Hobo With a Shotgun

Horrible Histories: Series One

Hot Fuzz

Hot Rod

House of Flying Daggers

I Know What You Did Last Summer

I, Tonya

Ice Age 2: The Meltdown

In Bruges

Inglorious Basterds

Insomnia

Iron Man

Isle of Dogs

JFK

Jackie Brown

Jaws

Johnny English

Joker

Julie & Julia

Jumanji

Jurassic Park

Kick-Ass

Kick-Ass 2

Kill Bill Volume 1

Kill Bill Volume 2

King Kong vs. Godzilla

Kingsman: The Secret Service

LEGO Batman: The Movie (DC Super Heroes Unite)

LEGO Star Wars: The Yoda Chronicles

Labyrinth

Lady Vengeance

Last Action Hero

Lawrence of Arabia

Legends of The Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole

Leon: The Professional

Les Miserables: In Concert (The 25th Anniversary)

Let The Right One In

Life of Pi

Limitless

Lost In Translation

Loving Vincent

Macbeth

Mad Max

Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted

Marvel's Original Spiderman: Season 3 Vol. 1

Mean Girls

Megamind

Memoirs of a Geisha

Metropolis

Michael Jackson: Moon Walker

Miller's Crossing

Miranda Hart: My, What I Call, Live Show

Monster House

Monster in Paris

Monty Python and The Holy Grail

Monty Python's Life of Brian

Moulin Rouge

Mrs. Brown's Boys: Season One

Mulan

Mulan 2

My Week With Marilyn

Mythbusters: Season 1

Napoleon Dynamite

Naruto Shippuden: Box Set 1

Naruto Shippuden: Box Set 2

Nausicaä of The Valley of The Wind

Night of The Living Dead

Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation Vol. 1

Ninja Turtles: The Next Mutation Vol. 3

No Country for Old Men

North by Northwest

O Brother Where Art Thou?

Oldboy

Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood

One Hour Photo

Open Season 2

Osama

Pan's Labyrinth

Paper Towns

Parasite

Paris When It Sizzles

Patton

Persepolis

Pleasantvile

Pokémon The Movie: Hoopa And The Clash of Ages

Pokémon: 4 Ever

Precious

Predator

Psycho

Pulp Fiction

Pumpkin Scissors

Rain Man

Rare Exports

Red Riding Hood

Reefer Madness

Requiem For A Dream

Reservoir Dogs

[dearosamu]

DESPERADO - EPITHYMIA

SYPNOSIS: she, a dancer with personified problems all the while more that intrigues osamu dazai who came into her life amidst the chaos that is [name] [last name].

WARNING/S: none

six - seven

dazai ended up staying in at home instead of going to work. he felt that he may not be needed today or rather, he may have attended one of mori's oh so important but utterly boring meetings that he loves hosting so much. since [name] felt unobligated to accept his generous offer of financial support, at least he'd have someone else to attain his support - namely akutagawa.

it was a pretty bland day. he lazed around his home before deciding on doing something semi-productive. he had a few of his many cleaners come by to tidy up a good portion of his home - it was theoretically impossible to clean a massive pent house by himself  - while he tended to his own private study, picking away at his piles of paperwork he had yet to look over. he still had time for those. maybe, if he felt like it.

he wanted to hold off on paperwork even more, but a simple phone message sent to him by his business partner wasn't going to let him slack off and waste precious time doing nothing. so, he spent a good few hours holed up in his study, somehow managing to finish weeks worth of paperwork.

dawn came upon him sooner than he would've liked, but his day did a complete one-eighty as soon as he heard a ding on his doorstep.

to his surprise, there stood a familiar woman with [h.c] colored hair and a young boy who clinged onto her side tightly. [name] and yumeno.

he would've teased her for this shortcoming, but her agitated and close to desperate expression silenced him before he could utter a single word. the thought of how she found out his address passed by the brunette's mind. he'd just ask her later.

"please take care of him for me." [name] requests - more like demands - dazai. "just for tonight."

"[name], why are yo-"

"his usual sitter has gone out of town and i didn't know about it until now. chuuya and tanizaki are working and akutagawa can't deal with children. i don't know who else i can trust to take care of him."

"so-"

"just because i'm here doesn't mean i trust you that much."  [name] cuts him off again.

"yumeno has .. taken a liking to you somehow. i'm taking his word for it." [name] gives yumeno a gentle push towards dazai. now, dazai ached to give her a hard time. a few snarky comments here and there, but he simply took yumeno in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"keep him safe, don't let him lose his doll and get him to bed by ten."

[name] made a move to turn around and leave, but stopped herself from pushing forward. she mutters something under her breath, but decides against repeating herself out loud.

she just continued to walk until her figure could no longer be seen.

--

"wah~ you have such a big and nice place, osa-chan!" yumeno exclaims upon settling himself on dazai's soft and comfortable cushion couch.

dazai is called by many things. he's also a man of weird, yet enticing talents. being a babysitter for a thirteen year-old boy was definitely not on sub par on his to do list. he turns his gaze towards the younger male, motioning with a nod of his head.

"yeah, i do. do you want anything? i think i have something sweet for you. unless you want an actual meal, i got some leftovers in the fridge." though, dazai implies leftover pasta and some sandwiches an actual meal. not exactly practical for the current time of day.

"it's okay, i'm not that hungry," yumeno sends dazai one of his appalling smiles. dazai feels a trifling feeling of dread. why can't this child smile normally?

"let's play a game!" yumeno jumps up from his position on the couch, slightly tossing his precious doll in the air before hugging it close to his chest.

"game?" dazai questions, perplexed. yumeno hums in agreement. "do you have anything fun to play with?"

"i don't have anything that you can play with. why not just play with your doll?"

"marga is precious to me. i can't possibly ruin her pretty state," yumeno replies while stroking a side of the doll's face gently. dazai ignores the weird ministrations of the kid - and how he handles that creepy looking doll with care, opting to sit on the free spot beside him.

"got any board games?" yumeno turns towards dazai.

"no, i don't have time for silly things."

"what do you have time for then?"

"i plan the course of strategic development for my company."

"you're doing that thing again," the kid gives a small giggle. "you're talking all smart!"

"i do like to pride myself as an intelligent individual," dazai gives a small grin in agreement. at least someone was acknowledging his intelligence.

"mhm! even though i have no idea what you're talking about." the young male beams. dazai snorts at the comment. of course he doesn't. he's thirteen after all.

"hey, osa-chan," yumeno tugs at dazai's dress shirt. "i want you to lift me up!"

"a lift? wha-..!" without warning, yumeno jumped on dazai's back, giggles coming out of his mouth at the sound dazai makes.

"h-hey! don't jump at me so unexpectedly!" dazai maintains his balances as he adjusts his position to hold yumeno piggy back style.

"gallop along, my noble steed!" yumeno laughs as he lifts his doll, marga, in the air.

"please don't call me a noble steed," dazai sweats before proceeding to jog around his living room with yumeno on his back.

"you know, for a skinny guy, you sure do seem strong!"

"want me to drop you brat?"

"i'm kidding!!" yumeno laughs as he tightens his hold on dazai in slight fear his words may come true. dazai rolls his eyes in a playful way. [name]'s son seemed like a handful. it's a wonder that she can handle one troublesome brat. "you can put me down now."

dazai bends down a little to have yumeno off his back, in which the latter diverted his attention to his fifty-five inch tv. yumeno points to the black screen, grinning.

"can we watch something on your tv?"

--

a few hours had passed by since [name] dropped off yumeno. it was nearing ten pm, meaning dazai had to get yumeno to sleep soon. he returns to the living room after retrieving a fresh cold beverage from his kitchen, only to notice a small figure slumped against his couch.

he gets closer to find yumeno passed out while the tv still played a random show he was watching an hour ago prior to his drowsy state. dazai chuckles at the sight, placing his glass on the coffee table near the couch to pick up his sleeping figure to transfer him in a guest room. yumeno wouldn't budge and only moved to get in a more comfortable position on the couch. dazai  gave up on trying to move the sleeping male, seeing as he didn't plan on leaving the couch anytime soon and fetched him a spare blanket instead.

his doorbell rang again upon the next two hours. there stood [name], who now wore very different clothes from hours before. she sported a black and white striped skirt that only reached her upper thigh, accompanied with a white over-sized shirt tied to a knot that clearly wasn't hers to cover up whatever was under it. she held a cropped jacket on one arm while the other was placed on her hip, impatience and stress were evident on her face.

"where's yumeno?"

"he's asleep on my couch," he moved a bit for space for her to come in. "don't you have any spare clothes?"

"i got off late and as you can see, i was in a rush." [name] huffs.

"why don't you just borrow one of mine?"

[name] turned her gaze to him indecorously. "what, you want me to dress in your hobo fashion?" she snickers.

"hey! i'll have you know i have attained my fashion sense from someone who actually dresses nice! unless your preference in fashion is the same as that stupid slug, i can see where you get your poor taste from," dazai scoffs.

"if you just wanna insult me with the clothes i'm wearing, i'm obligated to just take yumeno now and step out that door," [name] barks through gritted teeth, clearly annoyed.

dazai ignores her and drags her to his room, shoving her inside. "there's my wardrobe. just pick whatever you like. though it may be a bit large, at least it's proper than your current attire."

[name] rolls her eyes. "do you ever not avoid saying stupid comments for no reason?"

dazai shrugs at her and motions for her to get changed. [name] raises an arched brow to him.

"well? get out! i'm not letting you watch me change, fuckin' pervert!" she pushes him from his leaning position on the door and slams it shut. she's a brat too, treating dazai that way in his own house. she's real lucky that he's o̶b̶s̶e̶s̶s̶e̶d̶  infatuated with her.

he went back to the living room to wait for her to get finished, scrolling idly on his phone for any updates on work that he needed to tend to and going through his other social media.

"done," he watches [name] walk downstairs, wearing one of his black shirts and slacks that were probably too small for him already, seeing how it managed to fit her nicely.

she looked good in his clothes.

really good.

[name] tried to ignore his obvious stare that he didn't even bother hiding. what a weirdo.

"got a spare bag i can use to dump my clothes?"

dazai nods wordlessly and leaves for a moment to fetch a small spare satchel bag from his study. [name] takes it from him without a word, choosing to carelessly stuff her clothes inside it.

"it wouldn't hurt you to at least say a 'thank you', you know," dazai pouts at her, crossing his arms in a child-like manner.

"i don't like you enough to act all nice and friendly."

"you kissed me the other night though."

"obviously to get you to shut up." [name] groans. "and please, do not mention it again to me. ever."

"why though?" dazai questions while placing his hands on his hips. "you insinuated it without me doing anything. and frankly, despite what you told me hours before, you might actually trust me enough to take care of yumeno."

[name] doesn't give him a reply nor bother herself to spare him a glance. dazai steps even closer.

"why do you keep denying me? you know that there's more to it, right? why can't you just tell me?"

"just shut up already!" [name] glares at him. "there is nothing, alright? i have nothing to say to you." [name] pushed pass him to walk over to yumeno's sleeping form, nudging his shoulder to wake him up.

"yumeno? sweetie, it's me. wake up," [name] softly coos at her son. yumeno rubbed his eyes from drowsiness, sluggishly trying to sit up but ended up leaning against his mother.

"h-huh? but, i'm still so sleepyy.." he yawns.

"sorry, yumeno. we have to go now, we don't wanna overstay our welcome," she mutters the last part mostly to herself, but dazai wouldn't allow her act like that.

"why don't you two sleepover? i have a guest bedroom for you two, i don't mind."

"why are you so persistent on having us stay here?"

"i still don't understand your hostility towards me, but i'm trying to get on your good side, alright? i took care of q-chan for you already. at least let me do this for you," dazai insists. [name]'s narrowed eyes softens at this, glancing down towards yumeno's sleepy face. no matter her pride, she'd always put him first before herself.

she sighs, reluctantly agreeing to stay and sleep in dazai's house."fine. not like i had a choice anyway."

soon after that, [name] and yumeno had transferred to the guest room. yumeno already tucked in and continued on his deep sleep. [name] sits at the edge of the bed, humming to herself as she tucks away a strand of hair that were on yumeno's face.

dazai stares at the pair with an emotion he can't understand well himself. he sighs and turns to head back towards his own room. that is until he heard a voice call out to him.

"dazai?"

he hums in acknowledgement, letting [name] know he was listening.

"i.. i'm sorry for how i acted. you're being generous and kind enough to take care of him, as you said and you even went as far as offering us your place." she huffs before continuing. "it was uncalled for-"

"it's alright," dazai gives her a small grin. "i don't mind at all. just tell me if i go too far next time, 'kay? he turns to the side, hand rising up to cover a yawn coming out.

"it's getting pretty late, i should head back now. good night," he bids her a good nights rest before finally heading back. a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

"you didn't let me finish," the female clears her throat, mumbling something under her breath.

"huh? what was that?"

".. i said thank you. and good night." she promptly closes the door right then.

dazai stands there for a few moments before walking back upstairs to finally get to his room, chuckling to himself.

he really can't understand her sometimes.

[anistarrose]

Ford in Amphibia - Chapter 2

Summary: Ford is subjected to mild bullying, and the gang decides to hunt an endangered species but makes an unexpected new friend along the way.

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19375102/chapters/47328493

The Beginning

This chapter references a few more episodes of Amphibia than the last one, but doesn’t spoil any overarching plot details past the first episode, so it should be possible to read even if you’re not caught up. This is starting to look like it’ll eventually wind up as four-chapter fic, so stay tuned for more!

***

Ford sat on the couch next to Anne, watching intently as she flicked through albums of photos on her phone.

“Here’s my cat, Domino — oh, and here she is again, in my parents’ kitchen! What a little troublemaker!”

“She’s quite precious,” Ford agreed. “You say you have music on this device too?”

“Of course!” Anne answered. “I’ve got all the best tunes — stuff to dance to, stuff you can sing along with, stuff to listen to as you think about how far you are from home and regret your life choices —”

“Do you have anything by Eurythmics? Or Talking Heads?”

Anne stared at Ford blankly.

“Or do you prefer classical? The Planets by Holst, maybe?”

“Uh, I’ve got All Star by Smash Mouth —”

“Mention that song again and you’re dead to me,” Ford growled.

There was an awkward pause, and then Ford sighed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be surprised that we appreciate different aspects of human culture. You’re young, and I… left my dimension a very long time ago.”

“That’s, um — that’s too bad,” Anne stammered, not really knowing what to say. “Uh… do you want to keep looking at pictures?” she finally asked.

Ford didn’t say no, so she opened a new album. “Here’s some of me and Sprig, and of some wildlife we saw the other day — oh, and here’s where I tried to teach Sprig how to use the camera! You can tell because it’s all blurry and —”

“Wait!” Ford interrupted. “Go back! To the one with the caterpillar — er, the cat-erpillar, rather!”

“This one?” Anne pulled up a picture of a black, orange, and red cat-erpillar glimpsed from across a meadow.

“That’s it! See the flame pattern, and those prominent tufts on the neck? That’s the endangered Sunburst Mountain Cat-erpillar!”

“Whoa, are you like a conservation expert?” Sprig asked, springing onto the couch. “Do you need to capture it and get it to breed with others of its kind to save the species?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Ford told them. “I need a sample of its chrysalis for my own use — and ideally I won’t seriously harm any specimens, but you never know!”

Noticing Anne and Sprig’s mildly horrified looks, he went on: “Let me explain. For years now, I’ve planning a mission to a very dangerous dimension, of which the atmosphere is contaminated with just about every pollutant imaginable. There will be zero margin for error on this mission, but if I inhale too many of those pollutants, they’ll almost certainly hamper my performance. So for the past few weeks, I’ve been searching for a solution…”

He pulled a carefully rolled-up piece of paper from his pocket, and spread it out in his lap to reveal a detailed scientific drawing of the cat-erpillar and its cocoon, along with a sketch of a mountain with wisps of smoke emanating from the peak.

“Every generation of the Sunburst Mountain Cat-erpillar pupates near volcanic vents, and as a result, they’ve evolved so that their chrysalides absorb and break down a wide variety of toxins. I learned of their existence shortly after coming to your world, and I’ve been trying to track one down ever since in the hope that harvesting some of that chrysalis material would help me design an air filter to get around that pollution problem — but unfortunately, the location of Sunburst Mountain has been lost to time, since those vents are dormant most of the year. The whole time I’ve been here in the valley, I’ve just been stumbling around blindly without glimpsing hide nor hair of any of the right cat-erpillar species.”

He flipped his paper over, and pulled out a pen. “The period of vent activity should only last another week or two this year, and at this rate I’m probably going to miss it — but if you could tell me where you saw that specimen the other day, then I’d have my best lead yet!”

“Cool!” Sprig exclaimed, at the same time that Anne spoke up:

“I gotta admit, tracking down a lost volcano sounds like loads of fun, but… cat-erpillars are a lot more dangerous than they look. Sprig can tell you about the Domino Two incident — did not end well for anyone, except maybe Domino Two herself.”

“Oh, I know how to handle myself, don’t worry! I’ve conquered many foes more deadly than a mere —”

They were interrupted by a yelp as Hop Pop jumped straight up, slamming into the ceiling.

“Darn it, Ford, I know you mean us no harm, but every time I walk by here I think there’s an owl perched on our couch and my heart skips a beat!” He rubbed his head, and began collecting the books he’d dropped.

Sprig snapped his fingers. “That’s it, an owl! I knew he reminded me of something predatory!”

“What?” Ford scowled. “I do not look like an owl!”

“Uh, except you kinda do!” Polly chimed in, bouncing into the living room behind Hop Pop. “There’s your big wide eyes, and the way your eyebrows jump up and your head whirls right around whenever you hear something behind you — oh, and the way your cloak billows behind you like giant wings!”

“You’ve got to be joking! I —”

“Such a majestic and terrifying creature!” Polly went on, tugging on Ford’s cloak. “You are the swift and deadly hunter I wish to emulate! Will you teach me your ways?”

Ford’s mouth opened and then closed, at a loss for words, but Anne cut in.

“Hey, that’s enough. Owls are supposed to be wise, remember? Ford set his face on fire less than five minutes after we met him. I think that instantly disqualifies him from owl resemblance.”

Ford just shook his head as Anne and Hop Pop cackled.

“And did you see how he slept on the couch last night?” Sprig added. “His face was buried in a whole stack of pillows and his feet were practically out the window! No majestic old owl would sleep like that!”

“I still want to see him in action, though,” Polly declared. “What do you hunt, old man? Tell me so that I may watch you and learn your ways of stealth and dismemberment!”

“I’m not planning to dismember any endangered species if I can avoid it,” Ford corrected her. “But you’re welcome to come with me anyways. The more eyes who know this area, the better!”

“Ooh, can we take Bessie?” Sprig asked. “Anne can drive us!”

Hop Pop’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know. I’ve got errands to run, and I’m not sure how I feel about letting you all run off without a chaperone…”

Ford stifled a laugh. “Hopediah, I’ve earned degrees in everything from cryptobiology to quantum physics — I’m basically the best chaperone these kids could hope for. Think of it as an educational outing!”

“Oh, well why didn’t you say so? That’s fine, then — just be sure to be back before nightfall!”

“Woo-hoo!” Anne cheered. “Time for an adventure with the weird hobo scientist from outer space that we adopted!”

“Adventure! Adventure! Adventure!” Sprig and Polly chanted. Anne joined in almost immediately, and after a moment, Ford did too.

***

“Okay, I think this is where we saw it,” Anne announced as Bessie the snail slowed to a halt at the edge of a clearing. The meadow was dotted with patches of mud, and seemed devoid of any life besides a lone chickfly that squawked and flew off as the gang dismounted.

“It looks… swampier than last time,” Sprig mused. “Did it rain over here or something?”

Ford knelt down in front of one of the patches of exposed mud, removing his glove to run a finger along the edge. “If anything, it looks like a creature tore up the grass at the surface while hunting here, revealing the damp earth underneath.”

“But these claw markings are huge! Whatever made them must be bigger than me!” Anne shuddered. “Ford, do you know why everything is so giant here?”

“Not for sure, but I can certainly speculate!” Ford’s face lit up. “For one thing, my preliminary scans have shown that there’s more oxygen in the atmosphere of this dimension than there is in the environment either you or I would’ve came from, which paleontology suggests may allow for life to grow larger.”

“Ugh, forget I asked,” Anne muttered, but Sprig bounded over to Ford’s side, eyes wide.

“Wow, really? If you and Anne keep breathing our air, will you get bigger too?”

“Not necessarily due to the oxygen concentrations,” Ford told him, “but that’s not the only difference between our dimensions! Gravity is slightly weaker here too, which most importantly means that it’ll be easier for the skeletons of megafauna to support their body mass, but also could cause Anne and I to pick up a few extra millimeters when our spinal columns expand. The effect should be subtle, but less weight pressing our vertebrae together means we’ll stand a little taller.”

“You’re not a majestic owlish hunter after all,” Polly groaned. “You’re just a nerd.”

“He’s a brave adventurer and he knows all about everything!” Sprig told her. “I want to be just like him when I grow up!”

“Two nerds,” Polly grumbled.

“Hey, guys?” Anne poked Sprig in the shoulder with a stick. “There’s something coming this way, and it’s kinda… on fire?”

“Where?” Ford leapt to his feet. “Is it a cat-erpillar?”

“No, it’s more like… an amorphous blob.” Anne pointed towards the creature, which had made its way almost halfway across the clearing. “I’d stay back, in case it explodes in our faces… oh, or you could just walk right up to it! That too!”

“Would you look at that!” Ford exclaimed, kneeling at the creature’s side. “I hadn’t expected to find any cryptozoological oddities I was familiar with here!”

“Cryptozoological?” Sprig tilted his head. “I thought that stuff was all bogus.”

“As in, like, cryptids?” Anne asked. “I saw a Moss-Man here once, does that count?”

Ford plucked a twig from the ground and placed it in the palm of his hand, which he then slowly extended towards the anomaly. The mass of its body seemed to be concentrated in a blob of mud that spilled across the ground with a radius of about half a foot and a height of about five inches at its highest point, from which several plumes of glowing green gas extended.

Two small, dark eyes blinked within the largest plume, and a muddy tendril extended from the creature’s base. For a moment, the mud began to pool in Ford’s hand, but then it pulled the twig back to its main body with a sudden slurp, leaving almost no dirt or moisture behind whatsoever. The twig vanished inside the muddy blob, and the creature gurgled in satisfaction.

Ford ran a hand through the fiery-looking plumes and Anne cringed, but he didn’t get burned. The creature’s flickering eyes widened as it responded with some semblance of a purr, apparently eager for more petting.

“Fascinating! I’ve encountered Scampfires back home, but I think this individual might be better referred to as a ‘Swampfire!’ Although technically speaking, there doesn’t seem to be any actual fire involved — I suspect it’s fueled by phosphorus and hydrocarbon compounds from that muddy blob of biomass, which undergo some form chemiluminescence to produce light without a substantial amount of heat.”

“Is it dangerous?” Polly asked. “Or will it help us on our quest?”

“Neither, I think,” Ford replied. “It seems perfectly content to just ooze along here and keep absorbing plant matter while we head on our way — although, I should really get a quick sketch first!” He pulled out a pen and notebook, adjusted his sitting position, and set to work.

“What happened to finding the cat-erpillar?” Anne groaned. “I thought that was some critically vital mission or something!”

“Oh, it is!” Ford told her. “But it’s not every day one gets to discover and catalog a new anomaly! You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Swampfires exist in my dimension too, but are endangered due to habitat loss… Humanity really needs to do a better job of preserving wetlands and all the biodiversity they contain…”

Sprig peered over Ford’s shoulder at his work — a set of simple drawings, cartoonish yet detailed enough to capture all the details of the Swampfire’s form in multiple poses. “Wow! You drew that so fast!”

“Thank you, I’ve been doing this for quite a while! Now, Swampy, if you could hold that pose for just a moment…”

Swampy, naturally, chose that moment to bolt, darting back between the trees with surprising speed as its lights dimmed.

“Drat. Well, what I’ve got down here is still better than nothing —”

“Hey, guys?” Anne asked. “Is it just me, or did a really big shadow just pass over us?”

In unison, the four of them looked up. Above, a massive shape blocked out the sun — a shape with wide eyes, a pointed beak, and long, silently flapping wings.

“Scatter!” Ford shouted as the owl dove towards the clearing, and the children bolted as its talons raked the ground.

***

End notes:

Thanks for reading, feedback/reblogs are appreciated as always!

This was very fun to write, as fics with Ford often are, because I got to use him as an excuse to ramble about science! Since Sprig showed an interest in science in “Family Shrub,” I figured he’d be pretty inquisitive, and look up to the whole adventurer-scientist deal Ford has going on.

Swampy the Swampfire, also known as the best character I’ve ever written about, is based partly off the Scampfires from Journal 3, and partly off of the “will-o-the-wisp” ghost lights, which are believed to be a result of gases produced in wetlands by decaying plants. (The endangered due to habitat loss detail Ford mentions isn’t a joke, either — according to Wikipedia, will-o-the-wisp sightings are rarer nowadays, and it’s probably because wetlands keep getting destroyed. We need to save the Swampfires!)

[legendsgates]

My thoughts on the Doctors

First: Your uncomfortably chilly and distant great uncle, the one who only warms up to his favorite grandchild and grumbles in the corner once he finally shows up at the family reunion

Second: Smol space hobo, wandering around in a coat bigger than he is

Third: En garde, frilly fuckboi (This my reaction, mind you, not my opinion)

Fourth: A total riot and hilarious to watch, but still an asshole who occasionally grins like he's going to eat your firstborn

Fifth: Who put a puppy in a human suit

Sixth: This diva needs a loudspeaker just to be heard over his coat!

Seventh: Small diabolical genius, but he's the one who always slips and falls on a banana peel at what would have been the most dramatic moment, immediately ruining the atmosphere he just worked so hard to create

Eighth: How the fuck can a single person get this cute i'm sobbing over here

War: Someone steal him away and hide him from everything that will hurt him. If you won't do it, I will

Nine: Just one (1) of those smiles could power the Earth for a million years. Holy shit. A precious damaged sweethearts we must protect

Ten: Fivey 2.0, the motormouth and rather-less-naive edition

Eleventh: He has exactly two extremes, with absolutely no in-between: An Actual Child and 'fuck me because this guy could conquer the universe, and may god have mercy on us all if he does cause he sure as hell won't'

Twelfth: Have you. Have you heard his lectures. Have you seen him talk to people and learn from people and care so damn much even though he pretends hE DOESN'T AHHHHHHH I LOVE HIM-

Thirteenth: Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. God does exist- I'm so gay for her I'm crying- shit i've started hyperventilating-

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Marooned Together - Chapter Twenty-Three

(with thanks to @real-fakedoors​ for proofreading!)

Okay… testing, testing, one two three, is this thing working?

It is? Awesome.

Hi. My name is Jeff Fryman, second Mayor of New Earth, husband of Dockmaster Peedee Fryman and possessor of the largest comics collection still in existence. (Is that important? I think that’s important.) I’m making this log to mark the fifteenth anniversary of the foundation of New Earth.

It’s sort of hard to know what to feel about that. See, if it’s fifteen years since we founded New Earth, it’s fifteen years since we lost the Earth. Everyone who was alive back then lost someone, lost more people than anyone can image. I mean, Peedee lost his dad and Ronaldo, and… and I lost mom…

But on the other hand, nobody could have imagined how successful New Earth’s ended up being. We’ve got houses and electricity and clothing fabrication, and Lenny says we might have that food synthesizer by next year! We… we should all be dead! We should’ve eaten each other or something, but we survived!

So how do we mark this? Are we celebrating? Are we commemorating? I… what do I call this? What do we do?

I… I’ll get back to you.

“I just can’t think of anything!”

Jeff sat on the couch, clutching his head, as Peedee and Blue Pearl considered his brief rant. He had a week to go before the anniversary, and the poor Mayor had nothing. Peedee felt for him - his husband looked haggard and worn, his eyes rimmed from lack of sleep. He was clearly thinking hard about this - in fact, Peedee wondered if he was overthinking it.

“Maybe we should ask around?” Peedee suggested, “See what people wanna do? Maybe they just want to keep it low key, or maybe they want a party…”

“But if I do that, it’s not a surprise!” exclaimed Jeff.

Peedee nodded sympathetically.

“I don’t think you can do this as a surprise, honey,” he replied, “I… I think you better just let people know it’s happening.”

“It could bring up bad memories,” Blue Pearl added softly.

“Yeah, what Blue said,” nodded Peedee.

He shrugged.

“How about we take a walk around and ask people what they think we should do for New Earth’s anniversary? Maybe they’ll come up with something we can use. It’s worth a shot, right?”

Jeff scratched his chin, nodding thoughtfully.

“That could work,” he said, “I’ll talk to Stevonnie about it - they’d probably be up to help with that.”

He sat up, smiling and snapping his fingers.

“Yeah!” he said, “That’s perfect!”

The Diamond’s Lament was, to put it simply, a nightmarish excuse of a bar. On the outside, the wooden paneling was worn and any attempts at paint were peeling; it certainly leant itself to the tried-and-true vibe that was inherent in much of New Earth. However, within the creaky tavern doors -- there was an equally underwhelming bar, just like you might expect. It was only after a conversation with the landlord, who was consequently also the barkeep, that Stevonnie truly came to appreciate how many stories were told by the crooked floorboards, the dim lighting, the jaded look on the faces of many customers.

Simon, the landlord, was an old Londoner who was in his late fifties - when the world had ended, he had been in the British military. Those days were long past, and from his demeanor, Stevonnie could tell he didn’t miss it one bit. Now his job was to run the Diamond’s Lament, to grow vegetables and fruit under sun lamps in the back, to operate New Earth’s general store from a window at the southend of the ramshackle building. It was a busy life, but it kept his mind of things.

“My mind,” he said, “Has been uneasy since long before the Cluster. The work keeps my mind off things.”

They spoke for a while on Simon’s ideas for the anniversary - he admitted he had few ideas and would need time to gather his thoughts. Their conversation was interrupted by some new patrons - Commander Lewis and a couple of the Human Resistance. When he saw them, Simon’s expression darkened.

“Bloody fools,” he muttered, “Playing soldier.”

“What do you mean?” asked Stevonnie.

Simon shrugged.

“There were a couple of old military people on New Earth when it started up,” he replied, “Me, Franks, I think two other officers, couple of soldiers. Now me, I just wanted to put soldiering behind me; thought I might be able to have a decent night’s sleep if I did. But Franks, he was adamant that we had to ‘do something.’”

He shook his head.

“Franks is an idiot,” he said, “But his heart’s in the right place, deep down. It’s the others that scare me. Franks wanted to fight back and he’d take anyone willing - but a lot of the people he got…”

For a long pause, Simon studied his hands, reliving some sort of memory to which they were not privy. Judging by his expression, Stevonnie wasn’t sure they would want to be.

“Be on your guard,” he warned, “These are kids who think soldiering and uniforms are glamorous, being groomed by a bunch of hateful bastards who’d shatter every gem they could get their hands on. Keep your distance, kid.”

Stevonnie swallowed, looking back at the resistance members. One locked eyes with her - he grinned, slowly running a finger over his neck.

“Whatever this is,” Simon spoke up again, “It has to be a repudiation of everything those people stand for. I don’t care what else you do, but give them a good kick in the rear.”

“I’ll let Jeff know,” Stevonnie nodded, “Maybe we can make it a celebration of human and gem harmony?”

“I reckon that’d be a brilliant idea, kid,” Simon said, smiling.

Behind them, a cry rang out as the resistance members raised their glasses.

“To the glorious victory!” they cried.

Simon cringed and turned his back away.

“Ain’t no such bloody thing,” he muttered, heading into the back room. “In war, there are no real victories.”

The Diamond’s Lament sold drinks, but there was very little stock left of the old spirits of Earth. There was a facsimile of beer on tap at the counter, watered down to almost comic levels to keep supplies going, and a strong synthetic rum that took a lot of getting used to, but, increasingly, New Earth was forced to rely on new methods of obtaining a ‘buzz.’

“We need to celebrate our food and drink,” said a Topaz as she swept the floor (they called her Spot, because of the big round gem on her stomach), “There’s nowhere humans are more creative in then making what they eat.”

“And working out new ways to get drunk,” muttered Peedee.

Jeff suppressed a giggle at his husband’s quip.

“What do you think’s most important?” asked Jeff.

“Well, you have to show off the Paste,” replied Spot.

Jeff shuddered. The Paste had been one of the sole sources of food in the fraught early days of New Earth - a tasteless, slimy, sickly grey substance that could mass produced from one of the transports they’d taken from Blue Diamond. The mere mention of the Paste could send a chill through the strongest heart and the strongest stomach - it had been replaced as soon as alternative food sources could be found. Nobody, nobody at all, missed the stuff.

“Apart from that,” Spot continued, “You need to mention all the scavengers who go out to get our food supplies. They don’t get enough gratitude, y’know? Think of what we wouldn’t have without them.”

“Well, Jenny’ll like that,” mused Jeff.

“Hey, come to think of it, has she met back up with Stevonnie?” asked Peedee, “I think she keeps missing them.”

Jenny Pizza had become a scavenger; she took a small capsule on long voyages to find supplies for New Earth. It was difficult and dangerous work, but enormously rewarding - not just for New Earth itself, but for the scavenger, who got to see a much wider universe than most others in the little settlement. The downside was long periods of loneliness in space, but for many, the wonders of the galaxy made it worth it.

Jenny knew Stevonnie was back, and Stevonnie knew Jenny was alive, but life of a scavenger left precious little time for reconnection. There was always something that needed doing.

“We’ll, that’s something we’re definitely doing,” declared Jeff, “All the scavengers in port get the night off.”

“...they work to their own schedule, Jeff.”

“Yeah, but I’m declaring a public holiday, so they’re not allowed to work.”

“I have one more thing,” added Spot, “But this is a more general thing. I think we need a discussion about Reddick Berries.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure if we can do that on the anniversary, but I’ll keep that in mind…”

Lapis stared at the little green-yellow berry in her hand. It was about the size of a grape, and felt juicy and cool to the touch. It had a mild sour smell and a smooth texture - it didn’t look half bad, but it didn’t look like much to worry about.

“So, this is a Reddick Berry?”

Buck Dewey nodded from the other side of the stall. Lapis had never really known Buck, but she knew enough to realise that he’d changed dramatically. He had grown mutton chops, making him vaguely resemble a nineteenth century outlaw. A long, nasty scar ran over the middle of his face, from the middle of his right cheek to just under his left eye. He wore a long coat over an old sweater, everything patched and worn - he could get new clothes, he said, but the ‘hobo/cowboy’ look he was running with just ‘fit,’ apparently.

These days, Buck ran a market stall, selling wares picked up by scavengers that weren’t necessarily vital, but were in demand. Payment was done by barter - a customer gave Buck something valuable, and Buck gave them as much stock as the object was worth. As a result, haggling was the order of the day in New Earth’s small market.

“Sure is,” replied Buck, “We used to get them from a planet near Titanicus XIX-XII, but we’ve started growing them in house.”

“You mean in shack?”

“Hey, I’m thinking of adding another storey.”

“So,” asked Lapis, turning the berry over in her hand, “What does a Reddick Berry do? And why’s it called that? It’s green…”

“It’s named after the woman who discovered it,” replied Buck, “And it’s a hallucinogen.”

“...halluci-what?”

Buck shrugged.

“Back when old Earth was destroyed,” he replied, “We lost all our supply of lot of things humans enjoyed - tobacco, cannabis, things like that. We used to use them to calm down, or to get into an altered state of mind. So when we found this it was like… yeah, man.”

Despite changing neither his tone nor facial expression, Lapis could detect Buck’s emphasis.

“Reddick Berries are the most popular ‘cause they’re a communal thing,” continued Buck, “They create a sort of psychic connection between minds under the influence of the berry, so that the visions and hallucinogens are shared. If you do it right, it gets pretty cosmic.”

“You can do it wrong?” asked Lapis.

“Doing it with strangers is dangerous,” replied Buck, “You never know what inner demons might come up, or what they could do to your mind while you’re connected. You can’t die, but a lot of people who aren’t careful can get traumatised real bad.”

“So it’s like fusion, but more dangerous.”

“Maybe,” Buck replied, “I don’t know. I’ve never fused.”

He reached into the basket and handed Lapis a second berry.

“Give it a go, see what you think,” he suggested, “And take this one for your barnmate. I reckon you’ll enjoy it.”

“Uh,” Lapis scratched the back of her head, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this.”

“Sure, no pressure,” replied Buck kindly, putting the berry back, “But if you ever change your mind, the offer still stands. Family friend discount.”

Lapis titled her head.

“I’m not your family.”

“No, but I consider Steven an honorary brother,” replied Buck, “Which makes Stevonnie an honorary sibling. And if they like you, that’s all I need to know.”

“I…”

Lapis gave Buck a small smile.

“Thanks.”

Buck smiled back.

“Anytime, sister.”

“We had three doctors when we started, and one of them was a vet.”

Stevonnie sat across from Doctor West, the head doctor at the New Earth General Hospital. Like everything else, this building was ramshackle, painted a sterile white that did little to hide the hodgepodge of wood and corrugated iron that made its walls. It was not long for the world - New Earth’s builders, including a couple of skilled Bismuths, were in the final stages of construction of a new hospital, which was supposed to be a bigger and a little more windproof.

West was an old man; he intended to retire once the move to the new hospital was done. Once he had been a colleague of Doctor Priyanka Maheswaran (“I must say, I’m really sorry about what happened to your mom.”) He had been a relatively junior doctor, an assistant to Doctor Stromberg. Now he was bearded and grey, and his hands shook when idle. His time was coming to an end, he said, and it was time to bow out gracefully.

“So what did you do?” asked Stevonnie.

“We had a lot of volunteers,” replied West, “A lot of them we’d never have expected to become a doctor.”

He pointed over his shoulder at a Ruby in nurses’ scrubs, washing her hands in the staff room sink.

“They were willing to learn, and we were willing to teach,” he continued, “But a lot of the medicines, we had remake from scratch. Thank god for the scavengers or we’d never have been able to do it. Even now, we’re short on a lot of things - and we have to deal with new infections now. Feels like an arms race, sometimes.”

He took a sip of his drink, remembering.

“The worst crisis I remember,” he continued, “Was Grasseye. It got brought in by a scavenger - basically, it caused fungal growth under the skin; you’d notice it because it’d come out over your eyes and through your gums, and eventually it’d clog your vital organs. It was horrible. We lost thirty people to it, I think.”

He shook his head.

“Thank god for the gems,” he said, “Every tech they bring us is a miracle. We stopped Grasseye because a Peridot worked out a cure from an isolated fungus sample. We have vaccines, insulin, all those things because they made them for us.”

He shrugged.

“It’s still touch and go sometimes, but we make it because we work together,” he said, “New Earth works because humans and gems combine to make it work.”

“Because we need each other,” said Stevonnie.

“Bingo.”

West sat back, templing his hands.

“That’s what I’d say to Jeff,” he continued, “Don’t make this about mourning; we’ve mourned enough. Don’t make it a celebration of New Earth and human survival because some of those idiots in the human resistance will take it the wrong way. Make it about us - about the relationships we’ve formed. We’re all family here - how about we celebrate that?”

“Homebase to Acheron, Homebase to Acheron, come in Acheron.”

“Peedee! You taking over for Lenny today?”

“Nah, this is a personal call. You got a moment to swing back to New Earth? Jeff’s holding an anniversary event and we figured we could use it to reacquaint you with Stevonnie.”

“Well, I was heading back anyway, and I’ve really been looking forward to meeting ‘Vonnie again. Sure, I’ll be on the ground in twelve hours, tops.”

“Appreciate it, Jenny. Let me know when you land.”

“Hey, Peedee, before you go; tell Vidalia I’ve found something very special for her.”

“What, for the museum?”

“Mmmmmmaybe?”

“Sure, I’ll tell her! She’ll love that! Okay, see you soon, Jen.”

“You too, ‘Dee, you too.”

Click.

A stretch and a sigh.

“I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you…”

“...last year we saw the end of food rationing for the last staple foods… no, using food twice in the same sentence sounds awkward.”

Jeff stood in front of the dirty mirror in his room, clad in a dark green suit and tie. He had just shaved for the occasion (and managed to cut his cheek, damn it,) and was going over his speech notes for the night ahead (not that night really differed from day here, but it made sense to stick to a twenty-four hour day cycle when half of the population was human). He was already deeply anxious - this was an important event, and he was still finding holes in his speech in the eighth reading.

“Hey Jeff!” Peedee stepped into the room, “You ready?”

Jeff turned, and caught his breath for a moment. His husband was dressed in a sand-brown tuxedo, shirt and tie roguishly abandoned and replaced with a long-sleeved shirt that exposed a glimpse of his chest hair. He grinned at Jeff’s reaction.

“I, ugh, uh, hot,” stammered Jeff.

Peedee chuckled.

“Blue Pearl’s waiting on us,” he said, “We gotta run.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…”

Jeff took a deep breath, adjusting his tie.

“Yeah,” he said firmly, “I got this.”

He stepped up to Peedee and wrapped an arm around his, grinning goofily.

“Let’s do it.”

Jenny Pizza couldn’t help but feel a little bit underdressed.

Everyone else had dressed in their bests, which, on New Earth, translated to clothes that looked presentable thanks to the fabricator, and here she was, fresh from her ship in her scavenger clothes; an old, cropped khaki jacket with the sleeves cut off, a pair of rough canvas trousers and dirty brown leather boots, the stains of sod and sweat still caking her body. Her biceps, toned and muscular from years of intensive physical activity, glistened slightly in the lights of the crowded Diamond’s Lament.

A pasty, thin officer of the Human Resistance, clad in a tight black dress uniform that he had probably designed himself, sneered at her unkempt appearance. She ignored him - she doubted he’d ever done a day of hard work in his life, never mind doing anything to help keep New Earth running.

“Jenny!”

Jenny turned around and, without even enough time to catch her breath, was pulled into a crushing embrace by Stevonnie. She laughed, hugging her old friend back.

“Stevonnie!” Jenny replied, stepping back after a moment, “So it’s true - you’re keeping the fusion gig up, full-time?”

“Yeah,” nodded Stevonnie, “I…”

“Awesome!” said Jenny, “And where’s the girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” asked Stevonnie, “What do you mean…”

Their eyes widened and they raised their arms, blushing furiously.

“Wait, no, Lapis isn’t… we’re not…”

Jenny laughed again, slapping a hand on their shoulder.

“I know, I know, I’m just messin’ with you!” she replied.

“Stevonnie, Mayor Jim says he’s speaking in…”

Lapis appeared from the crowd, trailing off as she saw Jenny.

“Oh, uh, this is your friend… Kenny, right?” she asked.

“Jenny,” the girl corrected gently, extending her hand.

“No, I’m Lapis,” replied Lapis, gently tapping Jenny’s hand, “Anyway, I’ve got a seat up the front when you’re ready.”

She walked away, leaving Stevonnie and Jenny alone.

“Blue, huh?” said Jenny, “Well… if you did decide to date her, you could do a lot worse…” She grinned teasingly.

“I… Jenny!”

Jenny laughed and playfully punched Stevonnie’s arm.

“Kidding!” she said.

She leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially.

“Just between you-me,” she hissed, “I got a little something planned for tonight.”

She winked and turned around, disappearing back into the crowd.

Stevonnie blinked, tilting their head.

“...huh,” they said, “Wonder what she’s up to…”

“Yo, ‘Vonnie?”

Stevonnie turned. Amethyst had walked up to them, a perplexed frown on her face.

“You seen V?” she asked, “I was gonna ask her to sit with me n’ ‘Dot, but I can’t find her.”

Stevonnie shrugged and shook their head.

“I’m afraid not,” they said, “I did see Jenny though…”

“Cool, cool,” nodded Amethyst, “Let me know if she turns up, alright? Last thing I want is for her to have to listen to that Curator guy talk about train numbers or army buttons or something all night…”

She walked away, leaving Stevonnie once more with the promise if they saw Vidalia, they would point her in Amethyst’s direction

“...okay, Jen’s ready when you’re done…”

“...right, yeah, okay…”

Jeff took a deep breath.

“Here we go.”

Jeff stepped out onto the stage, passing the musician that had been singing before him on the way. He stopped in front of the microphone, smiling awkwardly as the whole room applauded him.

“Thank you, Dan,” he said, briefly turning to the singer offstage, “Well, it’s been…”

God, he thought, he didn’t deserve it - New Earth worked because of them, not because of him.

Wait.

Wait.

That was it!

Jeff grinned and tucked his speechnotes back into his suit pocket.

“Okay,” he said, “I had a speech about milestones and food rationing and everything being better, but I think I have a better idea. I wanted to make a speech about how we work together - as humans and gems - to make something better for us all. And I don’t want to do that by talking statistics.”

“When we came to this place, we had nothing,” he continued, “And had lost everything. Some of us were lucky - we had husbands, wives, families - and some of us weren’t.”

Buck Dewey looked down at the floor, his shoulders sagging.

“We survived,” continued Jeff, “Because there were gems willing to defy their own Homeworld to make sure we survived. Who helped us gather food, build shelter and infrastructure; they risked their lives for us for no reason other then the faint promise of freedom. We owe them everything.”

There were a few annoyed grunts as members of the Human Resistance angrily began to file out - to his credit, Captain Franks did not, awkwardly watching Commander Lewis shove people aside as she went for the door.

“And now, look where we are,” said Jeff, “We have a port. We have a hospital. We have stores, markets and… and we make our own food! I mean, sure, that two-headed ox thing isn’t actually a cow, but it tastes the same, right? We’re building new buildings - real buildings! And all of this happened because we built a community.”

He looked across the room once more. He saw a young man and a lilac sapphire at the same table, sharing a drink. He saw Lenny and the hulking jasper Carl, the latter lifting a little girl up to help her see. He saw a woman and a light-yellow pearl, arms around each other, a faint blush on their cheeks. And at the front, he saw Stevonnie and Lapis, a partnership that had managed to survive and thrive alone on their little island. There were dozens of other little stories of cooperation scattered throughout the Diamonds’ Lament, testament to the heart of their home.

“So this is who we are,” said Jeff, “We’re not just gems, we’re not just humans. We’re not Earthlings and we’re not from space. We’re something better. We are united. And our very existence is a triumph, a message to the entire galaxy; we are still here! And as long as we’re together, no power in the universe can destroy us! Because we represent something more powerful than any weapon, any fleet, any Diamond!”

He allowed his voice to echo in the dead silence of the room.

“We,” he continued at last, “Are hope. And that is a light that can never be extinguished.”

He chuckled to himself.

“After all,” he said, “There are still little miracles happening across the universe, every day. Isn’t that right…”

He turned to the backstage and grinned.

“...Sour Cream?”

The man that emerged from behind the stage had been cleaned up as best they could. Jenny had found him on a lonely desert planet, the last survivor of a small transport pod that had been bound for the Zoo (or, so she guessed.) He had been thin, almost skeletal, and his eyes had been sunken - a long, long beard underlined his face. Even after a meal, a shave and a change of clothes, he still looked worn and haggard, stumbling as if in a dream onto the light of the stage.

His mother walked behind him, her remaining arm over his shoulder, waving somewhat awkwardly with her limb enhancer. Onion - now tall and lanky but otherwise not so different from before, and quiet as always - brought up the rear, his expression impassive as ever.

The audience regarded Sour Cream and his mother - their eyes fell on the limb enhancer that replaced Vidalia’s arm, and Sour Cream’s dry skin and sunken eyes. These were the scars they bore, the price they’d paid for survival, a living tribute to the sacrifice that had created New Earth and kept it alive. The tension in the air was palpable - Jeff wondered for a moment if he’d done something wrong, if he should have kept this private, if…

“This is my son.”

Vidalia spoke into the microphone, her voice wavering slightly.

“I lost him for fifteen years,” she said, “And now he’s back. And the ship that brought him back was made by a gem, and flown by a human. We found him because we let our world’s combine. And I know some people say we shouldn’t but working together…”

Her voice cracked.

“We brought my boy home.”

There was nothing else to be said. Vidalia pulled her son into a embrace, burying his head in her shoulder. Tears fell unashamed from the eyes of both mother and son as they held each other, fifteen long years of separation finally over. Nobody in the crowd dared to make a noise, to interrupt this moment of sorrow and pain and sheer, unbridled joy.

It was unfathomably unlikely, almost statistically impossible, and yet here it was - a family reunited after having been split across the cosmos.

Jeff was right. Miracles still happened.

“...so, I remember finding this in Dad’s stuff - uh, Greg Dad - and he told me mom wrote it? Anyway, I practiced it, and I remember it off by heart now…”

Stevonnie sat on a homemade piano in the back of the now empty Diamond’s Lament. The event was long over now - it was just them (and Simon, scrubbing down the counter), and they were about to leave for the warp pad. However, seeing the piano unoccupied, Stevonnie had felt a sudden urge to give it a play.

“So, these are the lyrics?” asked Lapis, looking down at the quickly scribbled words on the napkin they had handed her.

“Yeah, yeah,” replied Stevonnie, “Just… uh, join in when you’re ready.”

They cracked their fingers and began to play. The sound wasn’t great - the piano had seen a lot of playing, and it was vaguely tinny and high pitched. It gave the tune something of a melancholy feeling. They played the song without singing at first, then took a deep breath.

“Okay, here we go…”

They began to sing.

“If I could, begin to be, half of what you think of me, I could do about anything, I could even learn how to love…”

Nervously, Lapis looked down at the words and joined in.

“When I see, the way you act, Wondering when I’m coming back, I could do about anything…”

They both broke into smiles, and Lapis put a hand over Stevonnie’s shoulder, their voices echoing in union in the empty bar room - human and gem, intertwined.

“I could even learn how to love like you… Love like you… Love me like you…”

[thestrangecarrotcake]

Days 6-10

Drooling- Some more OC art, it’s kinda weird without context but it gets even weirder with context so... oof. Basically I had this dream about a corner store that has a lot of paranormal things going on in it (very much like Gravity Falls yes I noticed this very early on) and at one point this dude, who’s design I changed up after the dream since I mostly forgot it, gets possessed by a demon and then makes slushies out of blood...? Idk the only thing I added to that part was the demon part, the rest was all based off of my dream... it was a weird dream lol Okay enough about my weird dream about slushies and corner stores  Exhausted- Oh hecc this is also kinda from that but doesn’t need as much context. This is my hobo werewolf boi Rover. He’s gr8 and needs sleep. That’s all Stars- Oh boi more OCs how did this happen?! Thankfully this one’s from a different story. This is Phinian the blue butterfly that wants to go to space. He’s a good boi. Precious- Finally something that’s not needing much explaining -w-” I watched Hilda about a week before I got this prompt and of course I had to draw Alfur. He’s my fav character atm Flowing- Sea dragon... water dragon? idk dragon in water... I rlly like this one tbh, it turned out pretty nice

[queenspirituality]

to benzo,

ive decided to take some time out of my life to write a letter to you and for me too. Benjamin, I have been truly lucky enough to have the privilege of having you in my life for six years. I would like to take this moment in time to share with you my deepest gratitude towards you for lessons you've taught me, memories we've made together and special moments we have shared that i could never replace.

I sit here with my heart on my sleeve expressing to you my most heartfelt appreciation for our six solid years of dedication and perseverance with enduring this rollercoaster of a friendship. I am glad that we have stayed in contact with each others amongst all the other drama of our separate lives. I will forever cherish our connection for the rest of my life as it is unlike any other and I wouldn't change it for anything. These six years have been life-changing, and I mean that. I think we can both agree that these past six years have been eventful to say the least.

I was intending to only write this one single letter to you however I am now starting to realise the full extent of just how many precious moments we have shared over the years and I feel i won't be able to sum everything that I want to express up in one letter so with that being said I have decided to take my sweet time writing this letter and if I have any further thoughts id like to share with you I'll write another letter, and another and another until I have exhausted all brain motor and cognitive functions.

Anyway, I suppose I am steering off track a tad, so let me redirect your attention back to some of the good times weve shared together, particularly the first year of us dating each other and making so many unforgettable memories that I love dearly. When I reflect over all of our memories weve created over these years, it takes me back to the good times we've had, like and challenging times also, came to the beautiful realisation of how deep our love runs for one another.true depth of how far weve come from our first awkward encounter our past memories just how manycertain Heres to our many naive new beginnings and heres to our endless and countless promises of change, success and hope, of fresh starts and second chances that sadly never saw the finish line. We never stuck to our word or kept our promises to each other.

Nevertheless, from the very start, I believe 2017, you and me, we were honestly inseparable during our innocent and lust-filled honeymoon months. At the beginning of our goofy, naive and a little overly codependant relationship we shared together, you made me very happy for once in my life and I really developed a deep and intimate bond with you that I hadn't ever discovered with anyone else before in life. You were really special to me in that period of my life, you were my only real support system and best friend who I shared my deepest secrets, fears and insecurities with. You were my rock, my soul mate at that moment in my life, my bad-decision making bad influence of a boyfriend who did a lot of drugs which I wanted to partake in with him.

Even after our lowest of low moments, like our messy breakup which involved me asking your sister to pick you up because you were simply too emotional to pack your belongings or that other time when we were friends again but soon enough you practically moved right back in with me when I was living at Cornwall St. always making sure you were absolutely imposing upon my personal bubble, even when many times I asked for space which only resulted in you getting more clingy of me and deepened your attachment issues with me. It felt as if whenever I would demand space and time, you would decide to latch on even more, eventually leading me to give in and surrender to you.

The honest truth is there were difficult times with you exhausted me Ben. Both during the relationship and outside of the relo, in and out of our relationship, even when we were just friends with no strings or expectations just surrendered to your problems and gave my undivided attention to majority of the time I had to compromise my own wellbeing and personal integrity and wants and needs for myself because you were so expectant and needy of me to provide you with my undivided attention and affection when you attached to me like this, for me it was the easier path to take, even though it truly compromised my wellbeing and happiness your persuasive pleads an begs for my attention and affection many drug-filled and chaotic nights many nights, icking you out of m home, regardless if we were intimate or platonic at the time somehow lity we have someone managed to always gravitate back to each other over the endurance of six wholesome and adventurous years with you and for that I am endlessly grateful. naive feeling, overly codependant relationship with my little clingy but cute teenage stoner boyfriend who just wanted to smoke weed (4/20 blaze it) every day, talk skating with his boys and share his pure goofiness and love with those closest to him.

This letter was written for you and for me. For me because of my own self healing and to finally start my next chapter of life without you for a while (don't fret, i am to discuss this in greater detail for you further along in letter). We have to let each other respectfully go for good, for now.

I wrote this for you simply because i realised the depth of our history together and what better way to say one final farewell than to honour all those cherished memories we shared together over six intense years knowing each other. You deserve this so much and I care about you more than I truly express.

truly what a journey in life we have say shared together. Starting from our very first extremely awkward and absolutely cringeworthy 30 second encounter at one of mollies usual weekend gatherings she would throw any chance she could get, to our most recent and adventurous all night benders spent in cheap motel rooms, laying dead still in your room at your grandmas off limits house, to locking yourself inside my bathroom anxiously anticipating being busted by either my brother or my ex partner. All of the memories we have shared in between our initial meeting and most recent encounter I want to write abouts mainly for my own healing and growing but also for you, so you might just see things from my side of the fence.

Prepare yourself, as this will be one hefty and long-winded letter containing a rollercoaster of emotions and relayed past events both positive and negative, hopefully all neatly summarised into one final reflection of my feelings between us and this journey in life we've shared at the end.

So Ben, here goes nothing. I will start with when we first met at mollies place. Truthfully I couldn't keep my eyes off you, it was as if a magnet was attached to me and one to you and I was uncontrollably getting more invested and interested in finding out about you. I distinclty remember where you were sitting as I became more curious about you, next to Tobias on the couch beside the wall. I think you stayed sat there for the majority of the night, but nevertheless my eyes kept wandering back to you. I took some mdma caps that night and stupidly and spontaneously decided to go for a long ass nighttime bush walk with some guys from your high school (if I recall correctly it was ethan jensen and tom merrigan) through mollies creepy dark bush creek park she lives next to. Now that I think about it, I don't even think they were eager to come with me but they didn't want me going through that dangerous bushland area alone, especially in my state.

At that point during the night, to say I was way out of my mind would have been an absolute understatement as these narcotics were working in overdrive now, taking over my mind, body and any common sense i may have employed sober. Since this was still one of the first experiences I had with taking mdma, the experience was super intense and half of the night I felt as if I wasn't actually conscious or if I was conscious I had replaced old rubi with an upgraded, much more brave rubi that was suddenly in the mood to go walking straight into a potentially dangerous bushland area where hobos have squatted in before, did I mention at night, pitch black in there, with no street lighting except our eye vision. It was as if I did not care for danger or threats because I felt so high up on this cloud of euphoria that no one could touch me and I was totally protected from harm. Yes, my sober brain dies have more common sense and logic than that, however that one single feeling of pure euphoria pulsating through me was enough for me to want more of it, and more and so on and so forth.

And that is when i gained the confidence to start a conversation with you, or rather attempt to put a sentence together without looking proper munted from the drugs. I think we did speak briefly by the pool area and I recall you mentioning that you were in a relo with a chick named Emily. I didn't care about anything you were saying, I was so fucking ecstatic that somehow we ended up chatting to each other, even if it wasn't for long. I made a mental note of you in my head. I wanted to know you before I really had an idea of you. To sum up this first story, so now you know what my initial (& may I politely add extremely intoxicating) encounter with you from my perspective was like and my first impression of you: for me it was always from that very first glance of you that I became intrigued and I couldn't shake it one bit, even when you mentioned your relationship status with your cool girlfriend at the time. I wasn't listening, you were talking to a brick wall disguised as a pretty girl. I just remember how badly I wanted to know more of you, and I just had a gut feeling we would see each other again soon.

P.s. originally I was going to write one big letter to you and I yet I've realised just how many memories we've shared that I must write about. So instead I have decided to write each letter as a past memory or reflection of our experiences we've shared together over this six year rollercoaster.

First letter is completed, see you soon my friend.

P.p.s. OKAY YES, I can be super annoying (thoughtful, caring, kind, mindful, loving) and know JUST how much you truly cherish and adore (hate, despise, resent) my little life pep talks and lectures so benzo, especially for you I've decided to leave you some of my personal and unique little words of advice and wisdom rants just for you cos YOU DESERVE TO HEAR THEM SO READ THEM FOR ME FOR ONCE IN YOUR MEDIOCRE LIFE AND LET THEM SINK INTO YOUR BRAIN FOR GOODNESS SAKE YOU WONDERFUL BUT SOMETIMES LOST HUMAN BEING who deserves someone who will write personalised care letters because they are valuable and worthy and deserve love and lots of it.

10.10.2020

Word of advice #1:

Please take care of yourself, if not for yourself just do it for your little sister, she needs you more than you know. Feed yourself that second plate of homemade spaghetti bolognaise which YOU cooked with extra cheese and pasta, go mental person crazy in the shower, sing as loud as your lungs will fully permit you and sing those sad fucking sappy love songs you hate to love because they make you feel something instead of being aimlessly numb all day. AND FUCK, JUST do it, go ahead and get that girly lavender soap for your grandma because she let's you live in her temple and she means more than words could describe to you, write her a little letter too, go on and show your grandma some emotion for once, she worries about you and wants to see you prosper before she leaves you on Earth. Write about how lost in life you feel, or ask how lost in life she feels, maybe she's hurting too.

If nothing else, try remember that in life, we have one giant society consumed with human beings that can be very harsh and cruel and judgemental of your every GODDAM action.

In this clusterfuck of what society has labelled a life", we have constructed some outrageous and unrealistic expectations and laws and rules and ongoing policies and guidelines for our fellow law-abiding aife experiences, I have endured the worst kinds of days that stretch on and on, these days feelyo7u like you aren't contributing to society's overall desire for successful people and you keep missing the mark and when does it ever get easier for you, the past few years have just felt like one big snakes and ladders board game where you're piece is broken and won't stop descending down the snake, slowly slipping into the dark abyss of your april fools joke of a life (i say april fools because ive legit had some of the most soul-cursing life experiences that've got me full depressed to the point where it had a comedic level of patheticness may have this mindset at times, or not, that's ok. I frequently do. I do know when this dark never-ending tunnel or abyss or however you personally envision the dark periods in your life, has got me trapped so bad I may as well be submerged in sinking mud on a deserted island called 'No Hope Island a large can be hard to climb out of the sinking mud of your patheticness cietysh because it feels good, wash because people are cruel and you've been corrupted with their silly bullshit and you don't need their scent on your skin anymore, scrub your body until you can longer scrub, scrub your skin and don't stop until it is raw, red and numb. Don't call your that mate of yours today, hes doing hard drugs, he can't think straight therefore doesnt care for you as a genuine mate would and wants to see you in pain just as much as he is because in reality, it makes him feel slightly better about his pathetic situation because he has someone on the same level so now he feels less disgusted of who he has become. Tell me, is that a friend to you? A good friend who gets literal twisted pleasure and comfort out of watching you stick a needle in your arm and sell your soul to the devil. That same sinister devil who awaits you always so very eagerly every high you take. That devil demon who is always patiently waiting for you at the finish line of your come up. This monster you have let in, he has made himself a home in yours, he lays right beside you, breathing in your air and covering the room with dark shadows so you aren't reminded of how peaceful the daytime light looks in your bedroom. Yes, I assure you, as I have met him before in my sleep. He has told me that sometimes he watches over me in the darkest corner of my ceiling while I sleep, waiting for my fears and anxiety to emerge in my sleep. He is my sleep paralysis monster. He follows me everywhere I go now, i have no privacy from him. He is always there, watching and waiting for weakness. When I am weak and vulberable once I have had my dose of drugs, he likes to play a game called hide and seek. He hides and I seek. Sometimes I hide and he seeks. He hides himself deep within me, the way he enters into me is through my auraus just after I have taken narcotics and opened my auraus right up, when one is the most vulnerable to evilness of spirits. When I am anxious, he makes me go seek. I never want to seek inside but I am not to disobey his orders for that is when he will truly punish me with the insidious sleep paralysis, sleep deprivation, shadow people watching as an audience, inner demons invited on stage to surround you, the sickest feeling of fear and paranoia washing over your soul like sticky slime you can't remove off your skin no matter how many scratches you've inflicted upon your skin. Because of that one night with that one friendeedle,

Laying right beside you ou in your bed, as an unwanted shadow, n anticipation, the devil when your come down is creeping over you with a sheepish grin upon his face. has begun andat the end of your reality has set back in and the come down is creeping up on you of your high for you. Go ahead, if that's the life you want, nants you to go down like him, and that is just not part of hesgo to bed early, read that self-help book, try, just try to listen to your parents (even if they suck major sweaty hairy balls right know and are in the typical parent stage of not being completely and pathetically oblivious to you as a evolving adolescent boy that needs help and support and guidance from his parents because he feels sort of invisible and worthless in life right now and has been questioning for some time now his place in this world and what he means to anyone that cares for him and if his worthiness is even worth anything now or is he just too far gone to make it or start over fresh.

[terriercrow]

i’ve been rather busy of late, which isn’t really my cup of tea because it somewhat goes against my (i don’t really care to work too hard) work ethic and keeps me from thinking about more important things- like my mortality, slightly unironic prayers to God, good dreams, bad puns, or taking the time to properly trim my nose hair, etc.

anyway, fuck me when it appears to be more and more true that life is often having to do things one doesn’t feel like doing or being places where one doesn’t want to be...

but also thank goodness for the moments in which i feel a relaxed ease in being where i want to be— and having to be nowhere in particular where i can freely do something or nothing in particular.

 i did enjoy my loner night life tonight playing some guitar with a little whiskey and a lil’ dog nearby (that’s one of my favorite trifectas- whiskey, dogs and guitars) and looking out the window and admiring the tall pines illuminated by the outdoor light. the night feels like winter, but i heart the bugs i can hear defiantly chirping against the almost preternatural chill.

free time is precious to my soul, but i really don’t mind working hard. i guess one good thing about making money is buying good alcohol. i bought some crown royal regal apple whisky- it’s delicious and was almost too good for my own goodness sake Sat night limit of two shots ;’)

a recurring thought tonight is- what if maybe at the end of the day all i really  strive to be (spiritually speaking) is nothing more than a hobo/artist at heart with a hopefully warm & kind heart and some absurd humor sensibilities??? i’ll be content with simplicity and be amazed by the inexplicable, and see life more and more as a deepening dream and spirit moving through time & space.

i also did a very quick doodle- idk if it is a realistic or too idealized version of myself

[le-sejour]

Cookie Factory

Words: 2196

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

World: Modern/College AU

Warnings: Casual mention of sex, but otherwise, none i believe. c:

Prompt from: @dailyau “You bake when you’re stressed and sometimes you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day, now I’m not complaining but are you okay?”

A/N: I saw this prompt and Laf stress baking popped into my head. :^) 

Enjoy~

Most people get excited at the thought of weekends, or the changing seasons, or seeing their loved ones after some time apart. Kids were usually excited for snowfall, and employees more or less looked forward to payday.

In college, it was a little harder to see such joy with thousands of disheveled, sleep-deprived students milling about. It was as if all jubilation or life was being sucked into a black hole.

However, you seemed to see excitement, even just a little bit, nearly everyday on campus; a group of students rejoicing a good grade on a project, that little gleam in someone’s eyes when they’re the first at the coffee stall, the low buzzing when a class realizes it’s only a few minutes left until their professor is officially declared absent.

Your friends were also a big factor in why you saw such enthusiasm in your life. They were quite excitable over many things–Alexander, especially. The man can find joy even in the smallest of victories, like snagging Jefferson’s unofficial official seat in class.

As for you? Now, this might sound scandalous but hear this out; you were actually kind of maybe looking forward to finals.

You smiled as you opened the locker you virtually shared with the ever charming Gilbert du Motier du Lafayette, finding a neatly wrapped box of fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookies. You had given him your locker code for convenience, after a year of him trying to find you during finals week to hand you the precious little treats.

You sniffed the still-warm cookies before bringing one to your mouth. This always happens whenever deadlines loomed in the distance.

Your locker-mate was always so jittery around this time, which is why this glorious box of warmth and happiness was sitting in your hands. Lafayette often baked whenever he’s stressing out, which was mostly during midterms and finals. He claims his whole body feels too restless to concentrate on any of the material he’s studying for, so he takes to the kitchen.

He usually shares his creations with the gang, but he seems to always make an extra batch just for you. And who were you to complain? You get free sugar during the hell weeks to come, and indirectly stop your friend from ripping his hair out.

You stared in absolute confusion at the large tubs of cookies sitting in your locker.

Now, you weren’t trying to look a gift horse in the mouth, and you usually scoffed whenever anyone told you that there was such a thing as too much of a good thing. Because food is always a good idea, and you were a very hungry, very tired, very stressed out college student.

But this was too much. It’s ridiculous. It’s madness.

There were two large buckets of cookies in your locker. Two. Large. Buckets. Filled to the brim with fluffy chocolate chip cookies. It had been this way since the first box of baked goods a couple of weeks ago, but this is the first time he actually managed to fill up two whole tins. What was Laf doing? Is he secretly producing goods for a wholesale supplier? Your books were practically non-existent now!

Actually…

You scooted the tubs to the side–with a little difficulty, mind you–and exhaled slowly.

Your books were practically non-existent because they were gone.

There was only one person who had access to this locker, and you were pretty sure said person was holding your books hostage. You slammed the locker closed, before quickly opening it again.

Okay, so you weren’t really mad.

You scooped a couple of cookies from one of the containers and munched on one. Your next class didn’t start until after lunch, and it was only 10am. Plenty of time to gather your books from your clearly very frazzled friend.

“Hey, are you selling those?”

You turned around in surprise, cookie still in your mouth, seeing a group of students (Freshmen, maybe? They didn’t look like they wanted to die just yet) peering into your locker.

“Uh… S-…ure?”

“Awesome! How much are you charging?”

Huh.

Well, like you said, you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Laf, we need to talk.”

You were now sitting in front of the man who single-handedly turned your locker into some kind of black market cookie factory. Turns out, those kids who bought a handful of the cookies attracted more exhausted students looking to get their sugar fix on the way to class. It even got enough traction that at some point, someone from the administration was sent to put a stop to your little unlicensed business, but ended up buying a couple of the treats himself.

All in all, it was a pretty wild ride and ultimately delayed you from seeking out your book kidnapper.

“Chérie, not now, I have a paper due at 4pm and I have no idea how to conclude it.”

“Laf, I know you bake when you’re stressed and sometimes-“ You coughed ‘always’ into your hand “-you give me cookies, but recently you’re giving me whole baskets each day.”

You don’t know what did it, but you seemed to have the tanned man’s undivided attention now. You squinted at him, seeing how the color drained from his face, and how his eyes seemed to scream for help. It was hilarious, if not for the dirty hobo look he was sporting. His beard seemed scruffier than usual, and his cute little man bun was beginning to droop.

So you decided to proceed cautiously.

“Now, I’m not complaining but are you okay?”

After long stare off between you two, he cleared his throat, turning back to his laptop. “I’m fine, ma belle. Like you said, I am very stressed. I have 3 deadlines this week and I haven’t-“

“You know you bounce your leg up and down when you lie, right?”

His face colored at being caught, an awkward laugh escaping his soft, plump lips. “Okay, I lied. I have 2 deadlines-“

“Gilbert.”

His breath hitched as you enunciated his name like that. God, he could listen to you all day. Not to mention you were really adorable when you were trying to figure him out. He found himself stifling a smile despite the situation, before remembering why he’s been mass-producing sugary treats the past few weeks.

“You do know how whipped you sound, right?”

“Eh… Whipped, mon ami?”

“Under her spell. Smitten. Infatuated.”

“I… Oui, I suppose that’s how I sound, isn’t it?”

“And look. You do realize you have this really weird smile whenever you talk about her. It’s kinda creepy.”

“Ah… Do I?”

“Yes! I’ve never seen you look so dopey about a girl. And not just any girl, the other mom friend in our group. Y’know, besides Eliza. It’s a little weird.”

Sigh.

“You don’t have to repeat it, mon petit tortue, I remember vividly. It is why I was hesitant to bring it up in the first place. It might ruin what we have.”

“No, don’t listen to John-““-Hey!-”“-Laf, if you like her, go get her. What are you waiting for?”

And so that’s how he found himself with quite the dilemma. Finals was coming up and he had a plethora of deadlines he had to worry about, but all he could think about was you. That little laugh you do when you’re sending Alexander the dumbest memes you could find, the look of concentration you have whenever Hercules asked for you opinion on his portfolio, that silly good luck dance you and John invented before passing your term papers.

But he couldn’t make any sort of move on you, he knew that. If things didn’t work out between you two, your friendship would already be too sullied to save. He’s been playing and replaying scenarios in his head of how things could go wrong that it practically gave him nightmares once or twice. He knew it would cause an awkward rift between the boys and you and the Schuyler sisters. Even if they say they won’t, he knew sides would still be taken.

Dating within your own circle was just asking for so much trouble.

Which is why he’s been in the kitchen way more than normal, and way past the reasonable time to be making sweets. Every time he’s finished up the last batch of something, the gears in his mind would go off and in turn, the gears in his stand mixer would go on yet again. A vicious cycle.

“-rt. Gilbert?”

“Oui? Ah, je suis desolée, mon chou. I did not mean to space out like that.”

“What’s wrong, Lafa?” Damn it. You knew he couldn’t resist it when you used that nickname. It was your own nickname for him, no one else has or can call him that. “You’ve been weird, lately. C’mon, spill.”

He felt his heart melt at the sight of you, his resolve quickly wearing away. There you were across from him in your nondescript sweats and university hoodie, looking so genuinely concerned for his wellbeing. The way your brow was furrowed almost made him chuckle.

This was why it was so easy to fall in love with you. You were natural and genuine and real. He could very easily see your flaws as well as your merits, and that just sealed the deal for him.

Here goes nothing.

“Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” (“You are the light of my life,”) He exhaled, his hand impulsively reaching out to yours. Well, there was no going back now. Whatever your reaction was, he’d have to live with it. “I cannot seem to find the right words to tell you how much I appreciate your presence in my life, [N/Name]. Excusez-moi.”

He stood up to scoot his chair closer to you, bringing your hand up to his chest.

You stared at him in surprise, your own heart matching the rapid beating of his.

This… This was not what you expected when you came to look for your friend. Or, you guess friend isn’t the right term for him, anymore, is it? A slight blush bloomed beneath your cheeks; you suddenly became hyperaware of how warm his hand over yours was, and how hard his heart was beating in his chest.

“Lafa, I-“

“Non, mon amour. Please, do not think you have to return my feelings. I simply ask that you do not turn me away as your friend.”

Silence enveloped you as you tried to wrap your mind around the whole situation. This was insane. If someone told you weeks ago that Lafayette, one of your closest friends, actually romantically likes you, you’d have laughed in their face. Now, you weren’t sure what to do.

You wouldn’t deny the crush you’ve developed on him the first time you met. He was handsome, and silly, and quite passionate in his endeavors. But eventually, you found yourself drawn to him by the way he treats people, even when said people were Alexander’s rivals. He didn’t fold in on himself when faced with a delicate situation or a difficult decision. He was steadfast, loyal, and levelheaded; traits you deeply admired in your whirlwind of a life.

But the question still stands, and there was only one way to find out.

You bit your lip. “Will you still make me cookies?”

He laughed; a relieved, sincere thing that made your stomach flip out in a way it hasn’t before.

“As many as you want, chérie.”

“And you promise not to turn our locker into some sort of underground pastry shop?”

His heart skipped a beat at your use of the term ‘our’, the sides of his eyes crinkling as the smile on his lips widened.

“Je promets, ma belle femme.”

“Well, I guess there’s only one logical end to this situation.” You pulled your hand away from his. “I don’t want to be friends anymore-”

“Oui, I-“

“-because I want to try being something more.”

Anything else you had to say was quickly silenced by Lafayette’s chest. You could hear the deep rumbling of his laughter from your position pressed against him, and you couldn’t help but give a giggle of your own. You stayed that way for a while. After the laughter has subsided and contented silence settled upon the two of you, you continued to remain in his arms as he resumed typing out his term paper.

You ended up missing class that afternoon, finding yourself too giddy to even focus on anything but your current situation. The Frenchman eventually noticed the energy buzzing from your body, a small smile creeping up on him.

“You know what we can do with all that energy, oui?”

“Sex?”

“Baking, chérie, baking.” You have never seen him look that scandalized in your life, it was hilarious. “You have been hanging around Hercules far too much, naughty chaton.”

You laughed, watching him put away his things so you could both grab something to eat.

“But, you know… If we fucked, you would have a different way to relieve stress, other than filling my locker to the brim with enough baked goods to feed a battalion.”

“Chérie.”

FIN

[thebigreylotheory]

The Last Jedi final poster (probably not) #3

Tagline (from IMDB): “With innocence behind her and danger ahead, only courage and love were on her side.”

‘Cause I’d like to believe that TLJ will take Rey on a journey to find her father, ‘cause she didn’t see him in TFA...

Aw, they’re precious ship-jumping space hobos <3 

But, yeah, probably not. Final poster won’t look like that cause Indiana Jones is not going to let Ben Solo/Kylo Ren borrow his hat. Ain’t gonna happen.

I just randomly had a mental image of young Ben trying to go through Han’s closet. “Ben! Stay out of there!” “Fine, Dad! I’ll go raid Grandpa’s closet!”

Anyways, my experience with Natty Gann as a kid was mostly wanting to watch Natty Gann. It was an exciting preview on one of the Disney VHS’ we owned, but couldn’t find it at any video store nearby. That and Newsies. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Now there’s no video stores and I spend more time looking for things to watch than actually watching anything.

But the trailer is still exciting!

[all-things-james-barnes]

Trapped

Everything went wrong. The plan that had been discussed fell to pieces the moment you had arrived. The enemy intel that you had been given had been incorrect. To top it off, you were trapped in the rubble of a building, with the one person you hated the most. James. Buchannan. Barnes.

“Load up team!” Steve announced. You had just shrugged over your mission jacket, the last part of what you liked to call your very own ‘super suit.’ While the rest of the team had their own style, you liked your combat boots, black cargo pants, and your favorite black jacket. You had it specially made to fit you perfectly and added lots of spaces to hide knives and guns inside. Some of the team had laughed at your outfit the first time, asking where all the weapons were, until you pulled out two guns, eight knives, two daggers, a lighter, and four mini explosive devices.

“Shotgun!” you called as you walked to the jet.

“No fair! You always get to ride shotgun!” Clint complained loudly as he followed behind you.

“Gotta be quicker next time old man,” you sniggered as you took your seat up front.

“You only get it ‘cause the Captain likes you best,” Clint huffed.

“Perks of having Rogers as your best friend,” you said with a grin.

You turned the seat around, and sunk down in the seat to play on your phone while everyone else began to board. You were too occupied with beating your current high score on Candy Crush, that you jumped when someone tried to turn your seat. The sudden movement caused you to move the wrong piece, screwing up your chances of beating your high score.

“What the hell!” you yelled at the person who turned you. You found yourself making a disgusted face at none other than James Barnes.

“Why are you here?” he said obviously irritated at you already. He was dressed for the mission, black mission suit, combat boots, a gun at his hip, and probably several knives stashed in his pockets. His hair was combed back, because he had finally cut the hobo mop of hair he had on his head off. Although it was still a bit long, you could still make fun of it. When he had cut it you had said, “Oh great, at least you’ll see yourself being stupid next time.”

“Why do you think genius? I’m going on the mission, duh,” you responded, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your skull.

“You’re in my seat,” he grumbled, rolling his head around like it was obvious that you were taking up his precious seat.

“Called shotgun, get in the back with the rest of the team,” you replied coldly, turning back around to play your game again. He huffed but you heard him reluctantly move to take a seat in the back. A moment later, Steve came and took his seat in the pilot’s chair.

“You know if you guys actually talked, you probably wouldn’t hate each other,” he said quietly as he began to switch on the controls.

“If we talked, I’d accidently murder him because he would piss me off,” you responded and you went through the preflight checklist with Steve.

“I’m just saying, you both have more in common than you realize,” Steve said, and he turned on the engines. You didn’t respond, thinking that the day you and James Barnes would ever have anything in common, was the day the world would end. Nothing could ever make you want anything to do with him. Ever.

You landed on the ground an couple hours later. The cover of night shielded you all as you came towards the main building. You could hear the sounds of guards in the distance, making their rounds around the compound. Natasha had gone ahead of the group and was doing her job of securing an entrance in the compound. As you pulled around to the meeting point, the back door swung open. A man fell over and out from the inside, but Natasha stood just inside rechecking her gadgets.

“Thanks Romanoff,” Steve said as he walked in.

“Child’s play Rogers,” she smirked and followed behind him.

You were about to head inside, until Barnes shoved past you to get inside first. “Asshole,” you hissed. He just glared back at you before continuing inside. You were mentally plotting a way to put Nair in his shampoo when you got back as you moved forward and proceeded to follow the rest of the group.

As you went up the stairs, everything was quiet, and it made you uneasy. For something so heavily protected on the outside, the inside seemed to empty. You made it to the sixth and final floor before everything went wrong. As the last of you entered the room, the door slammed closed an locked behind you. The door across opened and dozens of armed soldiers started to flood in. Each of you immediantly jumped into action.

You dove behind a desk and started firing at the neverending stream of enemy agents. Once you ran out of ammo, you moved to gain a better position to fight hand to hand combat and not get overwhelmed. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t see one coming behind you. They grabbed you and even though you spun around to get away they managed to catch you and fling you into another teamate nearby.

You landed on top of them with a thud. Just my luck, you thought. You had landed on top of James Barnes and were painfully aware of how close your faces were to each other. “Are you okay?” he asked, he voiced filled with something that you could only describe as actual concern.

“Fine,” you said as you rolled off, trying to avoid gettting knocked down again. He moved away, but beyond that, you didn’t pay attention or even care what he was doing. You were doing the best you could fighting off as best you could while the others did the same.

“Get down!” you heard Clint yell. You turned to see one of the assailants had thrown a bomb of some sort and it was heading right towards you.

Bucky saw it in slow motion. Everyone dove for cover except you. You seemed frozen on the spot, and Bucky wanted to scream at you to take cover but he couldn’t. He knew if you didn’t move right that second, you were as good as dead.

“Fuck,” he swore, before leaping out to cover you. The device detonated as his body collided into yours, shielding you from the blast. The floor gave way, and you felt yourself falling, and then nothing but darkness.

Pain, the first thing you felt was searing pain in your leg. You groaned, as you tried to open your eyes. Everything was dark, and the air was full of dust and dirt. You started coughing but each movement only brought flashes of pain into your leg.

You bit you lip in pain as you tried to move around enough to get the light from your jacket pocket. By this point, hot tears mixed in with the sweat on your face. You held back each whimper the best you could until you were finally able to get your light. You turned it on, and found yourself in a nightmare. You were tapped underground, in the rubble of the building.

You heard movement from the beside you and turned slowly to ease the amount of pain you felt, to find James Barnes groaning as he pulled himself up on his hands and knees. You were almost releaved to find that you weren’t alone done here. Almost. Almost because it was James Barnes.

You turned away to take in your surroudings. You managed to get trapped in a small pocket of the rubble. It was only a few feet around. Just enough for the two of you to move around.

“Barnes,” you whispered. Your voice sounded weak, and cracked. “James,” you said a little lounder this time, saying it through gritted teeth. You shined the light in his direction, and he turned towards you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fuck no,” you growled, the pain in your leg growing as your senses came back to you. You shined the light down at your leg, and the blood drained from your face. You had a piece of metal going straight through your thigh. You started to panic, shock coming onto you.

“Ja…Ja.. James…James…I ugh…I think…I’m going into sh…sh…shock,” you stuttered out. He crawled over to you, trying his best not move you.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N), look at me okay. Look at me,” he said, his voice somehow even. You turned to look at him, his face ghostly in the dim light.

“You’re going to be okay. You hear me, you’re going to be okay.” You nodded, feeling scared and in pain.

He looked down at your wound, which you could feel oozing blood. At least the metal stayed in your leg. You might not lose it. He pressed gently around, casuing you to hiss and groan at his prodding. He pulled off his jacket and then ripped sleeves off of his shirt. He ripped a whole in the jacket, big enough to put around the metal.

“This is going to hurt,” he said softly. You knew what was going to happen so you brought your jacket sleeve to your mouth and bit down. You nodded, your breathing already starting to pick up in preparation for the pain your were about to feel. You shut your eyes and screamed. They were muffled as he tightend the straps of clothe around your leg. You screamed, and cursed and felt like you were going to pass out. Your heart was beating out of control.

“There done,” he said and pulled his hands away quickly. You kept your jacket in your mouth as you slowly called back down. You finally calmed down enough to let go. You looked at James, who was watching you with concern.

“Thanks,” you said raggedly.

He half smiled, “I think that’s the first time you’ve actually thanked me.”

“I almost wish I wasn’t thanking you for wrapping up my metal impaled leg,” you said through the pain you felt. The blood loss was making you nice to him. You shivered, realizing how cold it was becoming in the rubble. The concrete was sucking all the heat from you both.

“You need to stay warm,” James said. He moved closer to you, laying beside you to keep you somewhat warm. You rolled your eyes and moved up to lay on him. He stiffened, but then let his flesh arm wrap around you, holding you, sharing the small amount of body heat you had.

“Don’t get any ideas,” you muttered, relishing in his warmth. You never realized how warm he was. He was practically a human space heater. You turned off the light, saving it in case you heard anyone coming for you both.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I’m the last person you would want here.”

“You are, but you’re a human heater so I’m glad you’re here,” you replied.

He stayed quiet and you weren't sure how long the silence lasted. It could have been a few minutes, or a few hours for all you knew. “Why do you hate me?” you asked breaking the silence.

“I don’t. Why do you hate me?” he asked.

“I, uh, you know I don’t actually know. You’re just such an ass that I had to hate you,” you explained. It was true. From the first moment you had met him, he seemed to just insult you or be so sarcastic that you just couldn’t and wouldn’t even try and be friends with him.

“It was uh, my way of dealing I guess. Eveyone else, except Steve, just kinda took it I guess. You’re uh, the only person I guess who took it as an offense,” he fumbled out.

“I don’t take shit from people, I took enough when I was young,” you mumbled. He stayed quiet again, but this time not as long. “Rough childhood?” he asked.

You were hesisant for a moment, but you were also stuck down here with him. Steve said you should talk to him, so here was a chance. “Mum left when I was 5. I don’t really remember her, but I remember her always telling me I had her eyes. She said when she looked at me, she saw a younger version of herself. I, uh, I thought she loved me, but she didn’t. Dad turned into a drunk after she left. Usual abuse followed until I ran away. I, uh, I got caught stealing, then juvi, then cleaned up, got recruited. Now I’m here.”

You finished your story but he said nothing. You thought maybe you had dumped too much on him at one time. “I’m sorry. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have been so shitty to you.”

“Don’t apologize, we both know if we live, we’ll just go back to the way we were,” you grumbled.

“If we live, how about we hang out sometime, get to know each other so maybe we won't hate each other,” he offered.

“If we live, and I keep my leg, then we can hang out,” you teased.

You two sat there in the dark for who knows how long. Finally you heard something above you, but you were getting drowsy at this point. You were out, but remembered hearing something and seeing a bit of light before you were gone for good.

The next thing you knew, you were waking up, and you knew you had gotten out. You felt warm, covered in a blanket and the rhythmic beeping of a machine. You opened your eyes slowly and found yourself in the med bay of the tower. “You got to keep the leg by the way,” you turned to see James leaning agaisn the doorway.

You gave him a soft smile, “Guess you didn’t do such a crappy job then Barnes.”

“You can call me Bucky, everyone else does, and after what happened to us, I think you can,” he said with a smile.

“Bucky, huh. Well Bucky I guess the deal is settled. Think of something easy to do, cause  I don’t think I’ll be walking any time soon.”

He came over and gave your hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry. I got you.”

[gwynnew]

Perpetuating the poverty myth: How Hollywood gives us the wrong ideas about poor people

Dev Patel in Slumdog Millionaire, 2008 (Photo: Fox Searchlight)

When was the last time you saw a movie about a person or family struggling with poverty? Though economic hardship is an everyday occurrence, with more than 43 million Americans living below the poverty line, the topic is surprisingly rare in Hollywood films. And yet many common misconceptions about what poverty looks like, and how people can overcome it, have been reinforced by movies like Slumdog Millionaire, Precious, The Pursuit of Happyness, and The Fisher King. In his book Ghettoes, Tramps, and Welfare Queens: Down & Out on the Silver Screen, Stephen Pimpare (author of A People’s History of Poverty in America) takes a comprehensive look at how poverty and homelessness appear on film, from the silent era to the present day. Pimpare believes that, at this time of deep divisions in America, movies that accurately portray modern-day poverty are more important than ever. “We are geographically so segregated, racially segregated, and we are very much economically segregated — so it may be that for growing numbers of people, the only opportunities they have to gain insight into lives of poor and low-income people are through mass media,” he tells Yahoo Movies. Here are six ways that the movies have made us believe some extremely wrong-headed poverty myths. 

1. Homeless people in movies are almost always men. In real life, not so much. Asked to picture a homeless person in a movie, your mind may go to Charlie Chaplin’s “Little Tramp,” Robin Williams in The Fisher King, the evil sewer-dwellers of C.H.U.D., or the homeless man Bill Murray saves in Groundhog Day. What do they have in common? Whether they’re in the film for drama, horror, or comic relief, most characters identified in movies as beggars, hobos, or bums are men. In reality, most Americans who live in poverty are women and children. “Women are radically more likely to be poor than men are, and that’s historically always been true and it continues to be true,” Pimpare tells Yahoo Movies. Particularly invisible are the women most likely to be poor: elderly women. Because of factors like wage inequality, decline in social security benefits, and a longer lifespan than men, women often struggle with poverty in their later years — a fact of American life “that we just don’t see on film at all, to the best of my knowledge,” says Pimpare. 

Robin Williams and Jeff Bridges in The Fisher King, 1991 (Photo by Columbia Pictures/Getty Images)

2. In the movies, poverty is an obstacle that can be overcome with sheer determination. When a poor person is the protagonist in a film, the story arc is usually the same: with hard work, determination, and a little bit of luck, our hero escapes dire circumstances and is rewarded with a new life of wealth and success. In reality, extreme poverty is something that can rarely be overcome without institutional changes. But the “bootstraps narrative” has always been part of the American dream, and can be found in films ranging from My Fair Lady (the highest-grossing Hollywood film in history that has poverty as a main plot point, about a turn-of-the-century flower girl who transcends her station by learning proper English) to The Pursuit of Happyness (in which Will Smith plays a homeless man who becomes a wealthy stockbroker) to Slumdog Millionaire (about an orphan from India’s slums who wins a trivia game show). Of that last film, which won the Best Picture Oscar in 2009, Pimpare says, “the major critique I have of it is, for all the magic or good fortune that is hovering around [Dev Patel’s character] that contributes to him getting answers to those questions correct, the ultimate lesson still is: If you simply apply yourself and work hard, anything is possible. But what about all those other kids that he grew up with, who will never, no matter how smart they are or how diligent they are, escape those circumstances?”

3. Movies rarely challenge our worst stereotypes about people who receive public assistance. Although most welfare recipients with children have at least one job, the idea that people who receive government aid are lazy and immoral is deeply embedded in American movies. One of Pimpare’s examples of this is Precious, which he describes as a film “filled with unbelievably gorgeous, empathetic performances” that nevertheless “doesn’t challenge anybody’s notion at all about what those low-income communities of color look like.” The character played by Mo’nique, an abusive, lying mother, fits every negative stereotype of women on welfare. Having spent a decade working in food kitchens and soup pantries in New York City, Pimpare has no patience for the narrow representation of families struggling to put food on the table. “Precious really does, for my money, take the very ugliest, most pernicious stereotypes about what poor communities and poor families on welfare look like, their own culpability for their own poverty, the dysfunction and the violence — the list goes on,” he says. “I think that it feeds back to the audience everything that the political culture has told them to think about those people. So it’s comforting [to audiences] in that way.”

4. Many movies about poor people are actually about the middle-class heroes who “save” them. Strange as this may sound, very few movies about people living in poverty are actually about the people living in poverty. Take The Soloist, in which Jamie Foxx plays Nathaniel, a homeless violinist; the protagonist of the film is actually Robert Downey, Jr.’s character Steve, whose relationships and writing career are saved when he decides to help Nathaniel. Similarly, the hero of The Fisher King isn’t the homeless man played by Robin Williams, but the bitter radio DJ who befriends him, played by Jeff Bridges. And judging from the trailers, the upcoming film Same Kind of Different as Me isn’t centered on Djimon Hounsou’s homeless character, but the middle-class white couple (Renée Zellweger and Greg Kinnear) who embrace him. In these films and many others, including The Blind Side and Groundhog Day, poor characters are used to further the growth and change of middle-class protagonists; the audience is not asked to identify with them, and they don’t get to be the heroes of their own stories.

Jamie Foxx in The Soloist, 2009 (Photo: Dreamworks)

5. If you’re a homeless or poor character in a movie, that is invariably the most important thing about you. Poor people have thoughts, opinions and personality traits that have nothing to do with being poor, but you wouldn’t know it from the movies. Too often, says Pimpare, a movie character’s poverty is “all we know, and it’s the only thing that matters about them. There’s no other life to them beyond that; that is their identity, and that is their narrative function.”

6. Even when the economy is dire, the big screen rarely reflects that reality. You’d think that Hollywood would become more compassionate towards poor people during times when most audience members are facing economic struggles. In truth, it has never made much of a difference. During the Great Depression, few films attempted to come to grips with America’s new day-to-day reality. “We get a lot of silly rich people, we get a lot of dancing in clubs on rooftops in New York, we get a lot of that sort of escapism,” Pimpare says of Depression-era studio films (notable examples of which include My Man Godfrey, It Happened One Night, and most of Shirley Temple’s oeuvre). “But we don’t see Hollywood taking this moment of horrifying crisis and reimagining the world,” he observes. “You don’t see this deep analysis of politics or economics or class relations, by and large.”

Worth noting: Some films, mostly independent, have gotten things right. In his research, Pimpare did find examples of films that depict poverty and homelessness in accurate and realistic ways, many of which were made outside the studio system, like Winter’s Bone and Chop Shop. In terms of classic films, Pimpare counts The Grapes of Wrath among his favorites. And yet so few films have broached the subject of poverty in the first place that it’s hard not to wonder: Do realistic films about poor or homeless people even have an audience? Pimpare thinks they could, if those stories were given a chance. “I don’t know that people are naturally unwilling to watch more complicated stories of marginalized populations,” he says. “I think that there are so few opportunities they get to do that that they don’t ever have an opportunity to develop that as a habit. Whereas if I want to watch a movie set in outer space where stuff blows up, I’m covered, you know?”

Read more from Yahoo Movies:

Before #OscarsSoWhite: The forgotten story of Queer Nation’s 1992 Academy Awards protest

Documentary The Witness debunks the myths of the infamous Kitty Genovese murder

The Fisher King at 25: A look back at the Grand Central Station waltz