#never play MANIA near me though

[cameronthecryptid]

If you didn’t love me at my Panic! At the Disco era... 

That’s understandable, maybe give my current Fall Out Boy era a shot then. 

[karajaynetoday]

hey now, you're an all-star | jack hughes

it took one month of watching hockey for me to write fic. lmao. classic. good vibes.

thank you @littledrummeraussie for proofreading, love you angie 💖

READ PART TWO HERE

READ PART THREE HERE

word count: 2.8k

Warnings:  i don't think it needs any? just forgive my limited knowledge of hockey and canada i suppose? mentions of anxiety related to university? it's a bit angsty bc let's be real, do i ever know how to write anything else?

(This is a fem reader insert)

More writing here (soz that the masterlist is not up to date lol) | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here

You’d known Jack Hughes for as long as you could remember. He stood up for you in the playground at kindergarten, when a bigger kid pushed you off the swings; you returned the favour by saving him from a spider on his backpack. Ever since, you’d always had each other’s backs. 

And for as long as you’d known Jack, you’d been able to tell when he was upset about something. His lips did this thing, not quite a pout, but nowhere near the easy smile you were used to seeing. He’d pull his sleeves down over his hands, and his breathing would be… deeper, somehow. He could never meet your gaze, either. 

You were scrolling through Instagram on your couch at home, where you were supposed to be studying, when you saw a video of Jack from the Devils fundraiser event, answering media questions about his injury and when he’d be back on the ice. He laughed and smiled for the cameras, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. They asked about the all-star game, and you could feel his hesitation in answering. Jack tried to be positive and assure everyone that he had a chance of playing, but you both knew that wasn’t very likely. 

You sent the video to Jack with a comment bagging out his hairstyle, hoping to lift his mood a little, before dropping your phone onto the couch and drawing your attention back to the economics case study you were supposed to be analysing. 

You’d stayed in Toronto for university, while Jack headed off to New Jersey after his draft year. Long distance friendship took a lot of getting used to, but at least you were still in the same timezone, and the NHL schedule meant that Jack was contractually obliged to visit you a few times each year. Quinn too, despite how much he complained about the intensity of hockey mania in Toronto. In fact, the entire Hughes family sometimes made the trek, which you knew your parents not-so-secretly loved. It reminded you of the warmth you felt growing up in each other’s homes, filled with laughter and joy.

The little focus you had for your economics homework was broken when your phone began to vibrate beside you, Jack’s name flashing on the screen. You rolled your eyes with a smile, before leaning over to answer the video call. 

“Good morning, sunshine!” You greeted your best friend, who was already scowling at you. 

“Is it a good morning, though? When all I do is get criticism from my supposed best friend?” 

“It’s not criticism, more… encouragement, I’d say.” You teased back, Jack rolling his eyes at you.

“Encouraging what, exactly?”

“Encouraging you to make better personal style choices, especially related to hair. You are a millionaire, after all. Least you can do is get a decent haircut.” 

“Oh, my apologies. Didn’t realise I was getting encouragement from the queen of high fashion. Is that a coffee stain on that shirt?” Jack’s eyes glanced down at what little he could see of your outfit in the video call, before poking his tongue out at you.

“Hey, I’m a university student. This is high fashion, I’ll have you know. Anyway, why aren’t you at training?” You asked, cocking your head to the side in curiosity. 

Jack’s lips pressed together, and he looked away from his phone and you; you silently cursed yourself for asking the question. Even though Jack had been injured, he’d been pretty dedicated to his rehab and recovery, so it was a little odd for him to be calling you in the morning rather than be at a physio session. 

“More scans this afternoon so no session this morning. Trying to decide if I can play next weekend or if I just have to show up and look pretty.” Jack tried to joke, but you could tell that it wasn’t something he found humour in. 

“Good thing that looking pretty comes naturally to you, J.” 

“Oh, so now I’m pretty? I thought I had shit hair?!”

“You can both be a pretty face and have shit hair, buddy. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

“Mutually exclusive? Is that a fancy term you learnt at school?” 

You laughed at that, earning a Jack smile in return. You continued chatting back and forth for another 30 minutes or so, before Jack had to go to his scans. 

You managed to get through the rest of your economics homework, but your mind kept wandering back to Jack and his frustration at being injured. He’d been an All-Star before, so it wasn’t that specifically he was frustrated about missing, you were certain. The difference this year was Quinn’s selection in the All-Star weekend, and the building anticipation around so-called “Team Hughes” that would see Jack and Quinn on the same team for the first time in their NHL careers. That’s probably what Jack was upset about, because as much as they chirp each other and are fiercely competitive, there’s nothing Jack Hughes loves more than his brothers. You knew that he’d be in his head overthinking everything and convincing himself that he was letting Quinn down, somehow, despite it being beyond his control. 

The only further communication you got from Jack that day was a thumbs-down text message, which told you all you needed to know. You were sporadically in touch a few times throughout the week, and before you knew it, it was the day everyone was flying in for All-Star weekend.

You’d managed to persuade your parents that a full-blown neighbourhood party was not necessary, and instead convinced them to accept Quinn’s invitation to a lowkey but nice dinner downtown near the hotel where he and Jack were staying. The dinner was something you were looking forward to all week, but you hadn’t anticipated two things: accidentally deleting half your economics essay the night before it was due and having to stay up until 3am to finish it; and the butterflies that you were feeling when you were getting ready for dinner. Why on earth were you so nervous? Seeing Jack and Quinn after a while was usually something that excited you, not stressed you out. 

You had just pulled on your dress and finished wrangling your hair when your phone pinged with a message from Jack. 

Have you looked at the menu for this place? We need to order a side of the loaded mac n cheese pls and thx 

I thought you were a high performance athlete? But of course, mac n cheese is a MUST

Correct, my body is a temple. A temple of mac n cheese. Mac is a carb, cheese is calcium for my bones. Winners all around. See ya soon x

Xo

It was freezing outside, so you took an Uber from your university apartment to the restaurant. You were running behind, thanks to traffic, and then you almost toppled over on the pavement outside due to the wet weather. Between that and your sleep deprivation, you honestly wanted nothing more than to go home, put your pyjamas on and cry; but you plastered a smile on your face and headed inside the restaurant. 

The hostess greeted you warmly, and offered to take your coat once you established that your parents had already arrived and were seated on a table towards the back of the restaurant, and you could see the backs of Jack and Quinn as you approached them. Everyone stood up to greet you with hugs and kisses, and the butterflies sparked again when Jack pulled out the chair next to his for you to sit down. Jack and Quinn both had nice sweaters on with collared shirts, and you were quietly glad you’d decided to wear a dress rather than the jeans you’d initially picked out. 

“How did your essay go, sweetheart? I know economics isn’t your favourite…” Your mother enquired, obviously unaware of your crisis the night before. 

You gave her a tight-lipped smile and took a sip of the diet coke in front of you (that Jack must’ve ordered for you, no doubt) before mumbling something about getting it sorted and hoping for the best. Your dad swiftly changed the subject to the weekend’s festivities, excitedly asking Quinn about his plans for the All-Star draft, but you could feel Jack’s eyes on you. You met his gaze and subtly shook your head, silently asking for him to save his questions for later. Jack frowned at you, but complied. 

The dinner felt like it went quickly, but also went for hours. Your stomach hurt from laughing (and probably too much mac and cheese), as Jack and Quinn regaled your parents with stories of their seasons and their plans for the next summer off in Michigan, where your two families would join each other for a month or so of adventures. You found yourself smiling as your dad and the Hughes brothers comically argued over who would pay the bill, before Jack excused himself to the bathroom and sneakily paid the bill on his way there. 

Jack and Quinn’s hotel was walking distance from the restaurant, and they excitedly invited you and your parents to come and see the fancy suite they’d been gifted for the weekend. Your mother made some excuse about traffic on the drive home and promised to come and see it some other time, but nudged you in your side as she told you to go and check it out. You were so tired and ready for bed, but reluctantly agreed; your window of opportunity to spend time with Jack was closing, so you figured you may as well make the most of it.

The butterflies in your stomach flitted around as Jack helped you into your coat before you headed outside the restaurant and bid your parents farewell. You fell into step in between the brothers as they traipsed back toward the hotel, conversation flowing easily as Quinn asked about your college classes and you asked him about the latest book he was reading. Jack was silent as you walked the few blocks before arriving at the hotel, and he gently placed his hand onto your back as you were guided through the hotel front door and into the elevator. 

Your jaw dropped when Quinn swiped his key card and you all entered the hotel suite. They weren’t joking about it being fancy, holy shit. 

The floor to ceiling windows had incredible views of the city skyline, with a very comfortable looking couch in the living area facing the view. Two doors at either side of the living room lead to bedrooms with luxurious linens, and the marble bathrooms were impeccably finished. 

Jack was grinning as he watched you take it all in, leaning up against the door frame to his bedroom as you stood near the window and gaped at the views. Quinn had flopped down on the couch and was texting on his phone. 

“Can they gift this to you year-round? I’d like to live here…” You mused, shaking your head at how insane this hockey lifestyle could be. 

“We could probably just buy it for you.” Jack said nonchalantly, as he wandered over to stand beside you at the window. 

“Yeah, if you want. They’d probably charge us more because I’m a Canuck, though.” Quinn deadpanned, earning a laugh from you and an eye-roll from Jack.

“Speaking of, the guys are all catching up in Petey’s room, so I think I’ll head down there. See you tomorrow after the draft, sugar plum.” Quinn pulled you into a hug, and your heart burst at him using your childhood nickname (which came from one ill-fated ballet performance and you insisted you hated, but secretly loved being called). 

You could’ve sworn you saw Quinn wink at Jack before he left the hotel room, but then again, the sleep deprivation could also be sending you loopy. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Jack asked, moving to stand behind you and loop his arms around your waist as you still faced the window. Your heart rate shot through the roof as he pulled you closer, and nestled his head in between your neck and shoulder. You cringed as you realised he could probably feel your pulse beating fast. 

“Sure, but no blaming me if I fall asleep on you, sorryyyyy.” You awkwardly maneuvered yourself out of Jack’s embrace and walked over to the couch, sitting down on it and removing your shoes. 

“The first time we’ve seen each other in MONTHS and you’re going to fall asleep? Am I that boring? Sheesh.” Jack drawled, watching you from where he stood.

“Yes.” You stuck your tongue out at him, but lost it to a yawn which made you both laugh. 

“You know I love you, J. I would happily pull an all-nighter with you, but I don’t think two in a row is probably good for me.”

“Two in a row? What, where you out partying hard last night?” Jack’s voice trailed off as he wandered off into the bedroom, leaving the door open behind him. You heard a drawer open and a light thud onto the floor, and your throat tightened when you realised Jack was changing his clothes. God, you’d gotten changed in front of each other a million times. Why was your brain making everything so weird tonight?

“Not quite. Had a disaster that involved accidentally deleting my entire essay, sobbing for an hour, then staying up until 3am to write the whole thing. Living the dream, as per usual.” You rattled off, trying to sound nonchalant about, even though just thinking about last night made you nauseous with anxiety. Your nonchalance was clearly unconvincing, as Jack came back out of the bedroom clad in a hoodie and sweats and bee-lined for you, his face covered in concern. 

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s fine, I promise. All part of the college experience.” You weren’t sure if you were trying to convince yourself or Jack more. He couldn’t either, but instead of pushing the issue, he threw a hoodie at your head and laughed when you looked offended. 

“I’m definitely falling asleep if I put this on, by the way. You know I love being cozy. Cozy is my natural state of being.” You pulled your hair up into a loose bun using the hair tie on your wrist, before pulling the black Devils hoodie over your head. 

Jack slotted himself beside you on the couch and reached his arm over your shoulders, finding the remote with his other hand and navigating the ridiculously large TV onto Netflix. 

“Fine by be, sugarplum. I’d rather know you’re getting sleep here than send you home to stress yourself out more.”  Jack mused, his fingers absentmindedly stroking your arm while he found the latest season of a TV show you both loved to watch and pressed play.

“I’m not stres - it was just one essay - I promise I’m fine.” You sputtered, tripping over your words when Jack locked eyes with you, his gaze empathetic but all-knowing. 

“Besides, I’m not the only one in the room worth worrying about.” You said softly, nudging Jack’s side gently. Jack rolled his lips between his teeth, and sighed; he put down the remote and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. 

“But we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You’re not letting anyone down, though. Quinn doesn’t think that.” You continued, softly, not wanting to cause tension. 

Jack sighed deeply again and pulled his arm away from you, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands. 

“You don’t know what Quinny’s thinking, sugar. And it’s not just Quinn, it’s the fucking journalists, and Bratter’s vacation being ruined, and goddamn Michael Bublé being disappointed in me, and - just - fucking all of it.” Jack exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. 

You didn’t know what to say, because you could tell that Jack wasn’t in a mood that you could talk him down out of. But you could tell he needed comfort, needed reassurance, needed to know that you still had his back. Ever since kindergarten. 

You grabbed the back of Jack’s hoodie and gently tugged it, and he leaned back against the couch. You tapped Jack’s legs next, and he moved them up onto the other side of the L-shaped couch, so he was properly reclining. You paused, trying to figure out how to position yourself without being literally on top of Jack, but while your brain was running a million miles a minute, Jack’s hand found yours and yanked you towards him gently. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, before adjusting yourself between Jack’s body and the side of the couch. Jack’s arm found a home over your hips and settled gently on your stomach, pulling your back against his chest. You felt his breath on your neck as you both wriggled around, trying to get comfortable.

 

“Is this okay, sugar?” Jack’s voice was barely a whisper, directly into your ear. You didn’t trust your voice not to squeak a response so you simply nodded, trying desperately to calm your fast beating heart.

You rested your hand on top of Jack’s and gently squeezed, feeling yourself starting to lull to sleep. Despite the butterflies and your heart jumping out of your chest, you somehow had never felt more at peace, right in this moment.

This was safe, this was calm. This was home. 

[sillystargirll]

The World We Knew ~ Part 2

A Y/N and Soap Mactavish Story

The outside of the plane bustled with life the moment I stepped off, I always hated how the heat would get trapped inside those planes almost as if I was in an oven begin baked alive.

As I stepped out of the plane I let warm sun sunbathe my skin, I liked how warm it felt I could the breeze flowing along my hair. I was so relaxed I could almost stay in this state of mind forever.

I opened my eyes to be met by a small group of me .One of them steps forward to approach me.

"Lieutenant (L/N) or do you prefer to be called the Flash" the colonel, Alejandro Vargas welcomed me. The way my name rolled off his tongue with his rich accent, was so sexy to me.

He extends his hand to meet mines and I gladly shake his hand only for him to caress it and bring my hand to his lips giving a small kiss.

so he did read my file I smirk to myself as I gave a small chuckle "Flash will do" I glance over to the other boys one wearing a mask which caught my curiosity and the other one with his

hair as a mohawk his bright blue eyes captivated me it was almost as if I was looking at the ocean, it reminded me of the beaches in Mami where I spent all my free time listening to the waves crashing against the rocks.

"I'm Soap, I guess ghost isn't the only LT here anymore"

'like actual soap, hm intresting?" I smirked, Soap let out a small chuckle and smiled as he shakes my hand, I turn over my attention to the one that is wearing a mask which immensely I met with an intimidating gaze coming from him

"He's not much of a talk" Soap buts in I nodded and turn my attention towards Alejandro gesturing his head towards the SUVs behind him.

"I've never been to Mexico," I stated, making Alejandro chuckle lightly

"This isn't Mexico." as he extended his arms out "This is Las Almas"

"Shepherd" contractors are inbound to reinforcers. They're bringing hardware, they'll need room." Ghost states, Alejandro turns his head in acknowledgement.

All down to business, I think to myself where's the fun in that.

"My base is your base"

"Good, Now where's Hassan?"

"Cartel safe-house, ten clicks from here." Alejandro opens the door for me and winks at me which I smile lightly he closes the door and whistles loudly letting the SUVs

'Vamos, Vamos"

༻︵𓏶︵༺

Las Almas was beautifully filled with life, and creativity and so vibrant I always wanted to go to Mexico, I remember as a kid I would cling on to my Gramps for dear life begging him not to go on those missions since I didn't want to stay with the nanny even though she was nice. He would whisper down to my small ear and tell me he would bring me a souvenir.

For all those dangerous missions he would go to he would bring me souvenirs from different places he would go. Out of all the souvenirs he brought me my favorite was the conch shell from the beaches of Normandy he had given me for Christmas when I was 7 and I've kept and cherish it all these years.

I look out the window there was the natural beauty of nature filling the streets, alleyways, and nearby plazas. People strolled along the embedded with stones, the sidewalks clean and free of dirt. Trees and plants grew in abundance, creating limited shade even in the middle of the day

Kids played on the sidewalk, enjoying the warm weather and breezy air. I always wished to have friends growing up I was always alone the only thing I had was the giant house my Gramps brought near the shore of the beach and the serenity of the ocean it brought me peace. due to my Gramps job and the risks, it came with everything had to be done in secret. He didn't want me to get caught up with the Mania of his job apart from my birth.

I snap out of my thoughts and focus on reality stuck in the middle with two soldiers who could literally squish me, with their bulky muscles following ahead in front is an SUV that is leading the way.

"White truck, four armed in the back." Soap stated I spot it in the distance the truck quickly comes into view from his window, revealing the four men he was talking about all had their faces covered equipped with assault rifles.

My hand slowly grips my rifles carefully from begin obvious just in case there is any conflict.

"Hey "tranquilla" Alejandro was quick to assure me that everything was fine

"That's normal here. Guns on the street is a jurisdiction of the police."

"Where are the police." Ghost and Alejandro look at each other through the rearview mirror.

"Well, Las Almas has a very serious problem. there are a few that uphold the law, many who resist corruption... disappear."

"What about the military," soap questioned

"Well because we are well trained, soldiers are recruited by the narcos."

"Why not you?"

"We grew up here." In one instance you could tell Alejandro had a special connection to this town and to its memories. he will fight till the very end to keep those special memories.

"They call us Los Vaqueros, Cowboys. we love this place and would die fighting for it."

The vehicles trailed along passing by a small open area that was filled with shaded large trees. on the sidewalk, I was given a view of a man in a black tank top shirt who wore a skull mask beside him was a square cart, that was balloons tied to the cart. the balloons which the sun reflected on the side walk showing their beautiful colors.

The man handed a gold star-shaped balloon to the boy beside him were two men who were on guard on them they were carrying assault rifles.

"Kids, guns, and balloons .. that's a new one," Soap stated as he looked at me for a brief moment and then to Alejandro through the rearview mirror

"Narcos use generosity to win over the people."

"Even Children." I felt a pang in my heart these children didn't deserve to be brainwashed especially by narcos who cause nothing but destruction. in their way

"Especially the children" an unrecognized new voice spoke up, the driver speaks I think to myself

"Como te llamas senora?" the driver asked, trying to start a conversation with me since the drive got way to damn quiet.

"El Flash" I responded, watching from the rearview mirror his head slowly nod in acknowledgement

"You must be fast in the field, I'm Rodolfo Parra but you can call me Rudy" I smile and nod my head in acknowledgment as he watches you from the rearview mirror returning a smile back

All of a sudden the vehicle slowly comes to a stop. I slowly peered towards ghost's window along with Soap and tried to get a glimpse of what it is. My eyes were met with bright white sheets and had black writing on them covering the abandoned bodies.

"What's on those sheets?" Soap asked

"Narcomantas"

"Cartel Cloths" Rudy translates

"Message from El Sin Nombre. Warnings, marking territory. our streets are laced with death."

Before arriving in Las Almas Laswell gave you a brief introduction on who is El Sin Nombre and that he has been an issue in Las Almas but before I could ask who was El Sin Nombre ghost beat me to it.

"Who's Sin Nombre"

"El Sin Nombre", Alejandro corrected him. "The nameless, the leader of the Las Almas.'

"Where can we find him" my voice laced with a bitter tone

"You can't, no one knows who he is. but he's everywhere." Alejandro peered over the rear view of the mirror to make direct eye contact with me, but also watched the vehicles behind following us.

"And this is a challenge" I could sense a growing smile let alone Alejandro's tone. "But Los Vaqueros like challenges."

"With your mask, you will fit in well here, Ghost" Rudy butted in, I smirk at his statement, well he spoke facts in my opnion.

"Oye Calma" Alejandro gives a soft stern voice ordering Rudy to take it easy. The vehicle slowed down a bit, leaving me a bit curious about what was happening.

"Checkpoint, It's the army. Turn right, well go around."

"Why?" Ghost asked and I questioned myself on assuming the military guys blocking our road were allies or so I thought.

"Some troops are in the pocket of El Sin Nombre. Like I told said he's everywhere."

Rudy picks up the speed as the cleared streets gave the drivers behind us to go faster.

༻︵𓏶︵༺

Upon exiting the SUV, my high-laced boots came into contact with the dry dirt ground. Alejandro had let us to a rustic look old abandoned building it gave off a bad vibe.

"Team leaders, circle up on me." Alejandro ordered through his radion before looking back at Me, Soap and Ghost.

which we three nodded in acknowledgment. the rest of the soldiers rushed out of the vehicles, closing their doors. I grabbed my rifle in my hand and got of the car. as soon as I got off I inhaled the fresh air and felt the breeze cool my skin. I gather around Soap, Ghost, Alejandro and Rudy ready for the mission and the chaos that would unfold.

"Where are they holding Hassan?" Soap asked

"White two-story building. Back town" Alejandro raised the binoculars to give him a good view of the area he then put them down after a couple of seconds he managed a steady grip on his weapon and signaled everyone to quickly to approach the rusted old iron gate door.

In waiting for the command, I positioned behind Soap, who had positioned behind Alejandro. Once everyone was set, he radioed his team.

"All victors, stand by" Alejandro spoke into his radio, keeping his gun ready. Three seconds before commanding his men to breach, he fired a direct shot.

Ghost breached the door open on command, quickly following after Soap who was the first to enter he briskly walked through the entrance. I was left following after ghost.

Once inside the safe house, I was given a better look at the first few two-story houses I saw each made with brick and cement, the structure would be good for an incoming storm.

"Any civilians"

"Gone" Alejandro retorted, quickly approaching the next gate

"Where'd did they go?" Soap questioned after a small moment of silence."

"The Cartel took over, its now a hideout."

"It's a good place to keep Hassan, especially in the middle of nowhere," I said various shouts from the village center interrupted our conversation. We were shut off by another metal door that was lined with large, thick rocks and dense brick walls. Those cartel members who didn't know you were here sure as hell do now

Ghost quickly breached the next door open, allowing The rest of the group to reveal a more covered ground of the village ahead. Gunfire was quick to fill the air along with shouting chaos, Alejandro shot the first cartel member he saw hiding in what looked to be a one-bedroom that was in a complete mess across from him.

As we head down to the first floor of the safe house the walls are quickly riddled with bullet holes from the cartel who shot from various different places for cover.

I lingered behind Soap as he advances ahead, providing additional cover fire toward the cartel. took cover behind the nearest house wall, trying to avoid the gunfire and working with soap, shooting at the cartel men who cockblocked our way.

As we advanced forward, we encountered a narrowed pathway between the houses, which we crossed over the bodies of cartel members.

"watch out!" as I shot at the last man standing on top of a second-story balcony

"Thanks," Alejandro says he shoots me a soft smile which I return with a wink

Following the path to the last house, he pressed forward

"We secure this house, then we go for Hassan," Alejandro makes an announcement, the team members can be seen in his peripheral view.

"Cartels will move fast."

"Then we move faster. Soap, take the door."

Soap positioned himself in front of Alejandro and was set to the right of the door. I heard frantic screams coming from the house, it seemed they were well aware of my presence and were preparing to defend themselves.

after he breached the door, The man walked slowly down the hall and fired heavily at the man standing in the grim center moments after pulling the trigger before soap overtook him.

Following closely behind Soap, I kept an eye out and my gun aimed at every slightly ajar door in the hallway. Bringing pride to my callsign. I shot the cowardly man who tried to hide in the bedroom without hesitation. He was hiding behind a nightstand. The door opened just enough for his line of sight.

"Wow that was quick I'm guessing that's why they Flash" Soap commented in a low hushed tone, making me smirk at soap.

"Not even close, there's more to come." I look to the ghost who just gives me a cold stare which I immediately ignore and just keep on doing me

As Soaps reach the living room he look around trying to see if Hassan has been here or where his trail will lead us.

"All clear no sign of Hassan"

"What happened to the families here" Soap turned his head to see Alejandro entering the living along with me, ghost and Rodolfo following behind.

"The cartels bring violence so they leave." Alejandro approaches a nearby window closest to the door, spotting their objective just a few feet away. I made my way to the second window, peeking outside for anymore cartel members, only to be met with a peaceful view of the mountains and trees it was a truly beautiful day too bad you would spend it chasing down one troubled man.

"Stand by" Before Soap could open the door, Alejandro extended his hand on it and knelt down next to the window to talk into his radio.

"Victor-2, this is 1-1. deploy smoke. were moving external"

As I heard muffled explosions caused by smoke bombs being hurled in front of me, I heard his footsteps against the hard floor nearby. I notice a ghost behind me and I hear him breathing heavily, which doesn't bother me because of the environment we're in.

"Where's your family Alejandro" I asked with curiosity

"I keep that a secret, hermana. To protect them." The last thing we need with this kind of profession is to include the people we care about in this mayhem, thus I respect him for keeping his family and loved ones safe.

'We have concealment" Ghost announced, I enjoy it when guys are taller than me, especially since they have room for me in bed and can just scoop me in one single motion. he was near me, he was practically towering over me compared to my size.

"Let's move" Alejandro rose from the ground

"On me, soap" he nodded

Alejandro took lead, walking out the door to lead ahead through the smoke.

"This is where they were hiding Hassan. Expect resistance"

Alejandro led the group in the direction of the two-story house he had mentioned, which had crisp white walls and a welcoming balcony on the second floor. It was obvious how different it was from the other residences in the village.

A Vaquero opens the door and kicks it down after shooting the doorknob off the frame with his weapon. Alejandro took the initiative once more and threw a grenade, which caused a strong explosion and a brief shower of sparks to  stun enemies from attacking us.

I trailed after him, soap following after me then Ghost and Rudy

then, a second door that was on the opposite side of the living room had been broken through. Alejandro's grenade had surprised the adversaries, who were now stunned on the ground due to the effect of the grenade.

"Clear, no sight of hassan."

"Second deck." Ghost advised instantly

"Si. Vamos. Let's move upstairs and get Hassan"

Alejandro took the lead as Soap and I followed closely behind him, following him up the stairs at a steady, cautious pace. Alejandro manages to lower his head just in time after I heard several booming gunshots strike the wall behind him. He and Soap made it to the top floor, eliminated the last few cartel members, and then let us know it was safe to go inside.

The home's final room was incredibly roomy and appeared more like a living room. The last two cartel members were lying dead in the room, one under a small coffee table and the other through a cheap feathered couch cushion, as evidenced by the gunshot holes in his neck and chest.

"All victors, target building secure. Negative on Hassan." Alejandro announced in his comms, he sounded fed up with this man who we are currently chasing.

Ghost walked over to the sole table that had not been turned into a disorganized mess and started looking through a binder that was lying there. When he opened it, he discovered meaningless documents written in various languages. Hassan was rushing to be transferred out of the building and into a secret place.

"They must've moved him" Alejandro walked up to the table's right side and peered down at whatever the ghost was examining left by Hassan.

"They moved him recently." Alejandro looked at me exhaling in disbelief and disappointment.

"Quds force, that's his flag."The enormous, vivid blue flag with a recognizable yellow insignia was ghost pointed out.

"There's no doubt he was here, he's probably not to far from here, we can probably intersect to where he's heading." Alejandro nodded with you agreeing with my intel and ability to read ahead what were to happen next. Im always ten steps ahead everyone .

"your intel is good flash." as soap patted your soldier and gave a soft smile

Out of nowhere an erreie sound of tires groveling the dirt roads, I turn to the nearest window to try and catch a glimpse of the commotion. Vehicles heading our way.

"Vehicles inbounded" I quickly back up from the window and turn to the wall pretty much alerting the people around me.

"Mireda" Alejandro cursed and hurried over to the other window next to me. Soap followed, Rudy and Ghost joined me by the window. Everyone held their breath as the room fell silent.

"What is it?" Every passing car I saw primarily remind out of my sight from the windows as soap asked swiftly watching the strange vehicles making tight turns before coming to an abrupt hault.

"Its the army." Alejandro didn't sound so happy since they decided to show up out of nowhere.

"We got reinforcements" soap who sounded encouraging by this so sudden news

"Negative" Alejandro ordered his squad commanders and their men to leave. He tightened his grip on his gun to the point that his knuckles turned white, making it evident that he was furious with the army.

"What are we doin?" I watched as Alejandro kept his finger on the trigger

"Covering my men" Alejandro repeated, he peeked out the window from where he stood

"You want us the engage the fucking Mexican army?!?!" soap whispered in disbelief

"No hermano, these troops are paid by the cartel to protect Hassan"

"Multiple vehicle, troops transports light armor." Ghost says as I look through the scope of my rifile looking at the things they were transporting and trying to get more intel on what trick the got up their sleves, A sudden sharp minor explosion is followed by smoke that fogs up there cover

"They're deploying smoke." I peered through my scope, I try to focus my attention to at least the nearest targeted soldier.

"Hold your fire let them get close." alejandro says

As many gunshots can be heard around the the village and they are aimed at us, hell broke loose. I did my best to keep a safe distance from the window as I could hear the sound of the glass breaking and to avoid being fired at.

"Weapons free!!" alejandro shouted

Through my scope, I could see soldiers utilizing metal shields as protection, as if it were going to do any good. I saw that their helmets were of poor quality because even when they raised their shield to defend themselves, my bullets still went straight through their skulls.

Soap tried to cause damage and get rid of the men who were blocking our path while carrying only a little quantity of gernades. I was able to shoot those who had been hurt by the explosions and kill them as they came within my field of vision.

"My men are clear! we need to move!" Alejandro announced abruptly and moved away from the window. "Let's go!-"

He had been cut off from large, bulk grenades that were thrown through the broken glass window, landing against the hardwood floor with a thud. One of them had landed near Soap, he back away instantly . But I moved to him fast, grabbing hold of his forearm to pull him away from the blast. bringing him behind you.

the bombs quickly exploded, almost popping your ears. Black marks stained the wood floored board, murky brown clouds of smoke began to fill the room. I could tell that they used mustard gas to try and lure us out which could have work but we ain't going down without a fight.

"Are you okay?" as I landed on top of soap, he could feel your lower hips meet with his crotch, he blushed madly and nodded due to the explosion it didn't matter what weird position I was in all that matter was he was alive and breathing

He grabbed my arm and pulled me in front of him so we could move away from the ejecting gas canisters as I quickly got off of him and assisted him in standing. The gas was beginning to flood my lungs because it had completely eliminated all oxygen. The smell hit my nose and burned it difficult for me to breathe and causing me to cough.

When the wood panels and glass frames of the back window were broken by Alejandro, Ghost, and Rudy, the murky gas that was supposed to be pure mountain air began to seep out of the new area

"On me hurry !" Alejandro braced his leg against the sill and climbed out of the window, yelling as loudly as he could due to the damage the mustard gas was doing to his lungs. He then fell to the ground

I clutch the ledge and lower myself over it. When I jumped and awkwardly landed against the dirt ground, my gloves shielded my hands from glass splinter fragments.

"Army is right behind us!"

"Down the hill! We'll lose them in the mountains" Alejandro insisted." Fan out and stay close!"

"The old route?" Rudy shouted so that his colonel could hear him over the shooting.

"Straight for the bridge!" He confirmed, quickening his stride as he descended the steep slope. Jumping off a rock ledge, I descended the steep, dry dirt slopes after Alejandro and Rudy, with Soap and Ghost close behind.

The Mexican army follows us as we descend to the foothills, trying to flee while firing at us. A tree a few feet nearby was struck by a rocket as it shot through the air. The hit caused the tree to shake, its blackened, damaged bark aggressively creaking as a result of the harm.

My ear drums are damaged by the impact, and all I can hear is ringing and the painful hammering of my heart in my chest.

" Army on the ridgeline!" I heard someone yell out, an uproar of gunfire breaking through shortly after the blast, the soldiers took high vantage points now carried RPG'S with them. As they got closer and closer to the group.

As I took cover behind a rock , after take a couple of seconds regain my composure I joined in on the fight, Even if was in immense pain after surviving an explosion that could have killed if I would have taken a couple of more steps.

as soon as the final man fell from the ridgelines, "Anyone hit?!" Alejandro yelled.

"Flash, you okay, lass?!" Soap instantly looked at me with worried eyes as he saw blood drain out of my ears due to the RPG that nearly hit me. "Im fine!" I quickly nodded at him assuring him that I was okay and ready to get the fuck out of here.

Alejandro led the way once again, leading down to more steep paths downhill, he then stopped at a large rock ledge, the last tree ending at the corner of a steep cliff, giving a beautiful view of the mountains and the greenery terrain with its blue clear skies it was surrounded by that one miss step could end my journey not that I was afraid of heights, I was better than that.

As the group and I keep on advancing with Alejandro leading us to the bridge, As we run I could see the stunning view of the bridge surrounded by the lakes water it was breathtaking, I really wish I could go swimming as in the moment if I wasn't occupied.

Between Rudy and I, a piercing bullet sliced through the rocks, slamming painfully close to my left shoulder, sending shivers down my spine and nearly knocking me off your feet.

"Flash!" his hand clutched hold onto my forearm, preventing me from falling to my death. I cling to his arm, he guides me back firmly against the wall, helping me regain my mind and balance.

Another bullet pierces missing us, Alejandro shouting and commanding us to keep moving jolts me out of my dissociative state. I am then forced to keep moving until my feet touch more stable ground, at which point my hands tighten their grip on my own gun.

I instantly kneel down, look down where I thought the sniper was, and take a firm look through my scope. I watched for the crucial cue, like the smallest head tilt or a glint of sunlight reflecting off the enemy's scope. anything that would reveal their position.

I shot the sniper once I found him crouched by some tree, using the shrubs as cover to hide in plain sight. That one kill alone gave me redemption It turned the tables around if we were going to make it out of here.

"Good shot, that was amazing" Soap cheered me on as the group and I continued to advance, going up to the next available ledge, where I hauled myself up to continue. Because of all the running and hiking, my legs were on the verge of giving out. My knees and calves were burning and begging for a respite, but the rush of adrenaline coursing through my body compels me to continue.. Part of me wish this would come to end and hoping we catch that bald header fucker.

Upon sliding down another ledge, I regrouped with Alejandro as he froze at another

"you led us to a dead end mate!"

"We have to jump, hold on to your weapons!" Alejandro yelled and threw himself off the cliffside catching me off guard. Ghost and Soap were in total disbelief of what Alejandro did but hey did make the right call beside what other option did he have.

"The lad's gone mad!" Soap who was getting cold feet, I place a hand on his shoulder "You got this Soap! Its this or death." I exhaled slowly bracing myself before taking two steps back, the growing "butterflies" that filled your belly.

I sprang off and felt the wind blowing through my hair and clothes, chilling all the sweat that had accumulated on my face from the continual running and battling. I kept my weapon near to me and safely in my arms. I've never felt so light, and it gave me the impression that I was going to take off. This was the best and most insane thing I have ever done, and if I lived that long, I would definitely do it again.

My entire body felt instantaneously chilled as soon as it made contact with the frigid waves. I breached the lake and was devoured by the floods. When I opened my eyes, the lake's bottomless abyss and the surrounding blue and green crystal pure waters were both visible to me.

It was so peaceful I just wanted to stay there forever.

[msbigredmachine]

Watched Wrestlemania 39. My highlights:

Night 1

1. Right person won the US title match. Not a fan of Cena and probably never will be. Sorry.

2. All the guys in the men’s showcase match went off! Gosh! They all killed it, every one of them.

3. Seth versus Logan was expectedly good. Yes Logan Paul is an ass but that guy is great in the ring. Period.

4. KSI being frogplashed through a table 🤣🤣🤣

5. Outfit of the weekend. I don’t care what none of y’all say.

6. Didn’t really like the six women tag match. I just feel that Damage Ctrl need to split up now. Nothing is going their way.

7. Father and son arguably with the entrances of the weekend. Dom coming from prison and Rey in a low rider with Snoop bumping to two classic songs! 😭

8. This part had me screaming!

9. Dom splashing a drink in Aalyah’s face made me gasp! Excellent heel work by ex condom.

10. Rey winning made all the sense in the world. Months of disrespect ending in the most emphatic way possible. Dominik will be fine.

11. So glad Rhea won. Charlotte Flair is not interesting unless she has the title. The match was entertaining though. Loved it.

12. Lil Uzi Vert playing out the Usos was random, but I like Just Wanna Rock so it wasn’t an issue for me.

13. The Usos in all white is always 🔥🔥🔥. The main event twins!

14.Loved that Kevin and Sami wore matching outfits too. Sami is sooo over it’s crazy.

15. It was all fun and games till the Usos isolated Sami and started teeing off on him. Like fucking assassins. Then Sami kept kicking out and the Usos kept brutalizing him. That shit was uncomfortable.

16. Please rewatch the part where Jey put Sami in the corner and used him for target practice. The slaps, the forearms, the leaping Helluva kick, the trash talk. Jey is soooo HURT. That made me emotional.

17. The near falls were killing me! It got to a point when I stopped commenting and just kept watching because I was mesmerized. I didn’t want to miss a thing by talking.

18. The ending sequence. Cinema. Sami putting Jey away was the icing on the cake. Kevin’s face after the bell rang. The roar of the crowd. My own tears falling. Heartbroken for Jey. Elated for Sami. Unbelievable.

19. Hands down one of the best Mania main events in its 40 year history. Best tag team title match I’ve ever seen. And it did not surprise me at all, because four of the best in the world executed it to perfection.

Night 2

1. Nothing to say about Brock/Omos. Whatever.

2. Night and day between the men’s showcase match 👍🏾 and the women’s showcase match 👎🏾

3. LOOOOL Drew, Gunther and Sheamus beat the SHIT out of each other. Wowwww. The right man won. Gunther has a great aura and needs to hold that shit for a year.

4. That little girl in the middle of Bianca’s troupe lost her mother THAT DAY and still went out and killed her section. She is so so brave and I’m so happy she was still able to get that opportunity. She looked so happy despite her immense loss. My condolences to her and I hope she had the time of her life.

5. I feel bad for Asuka. L after L after L at Mania. But Bianca is a once in a lifetime athlete. Keep that belt on her for as long as possible.

6. I have ZERO sympathy for Shane McMahon. 7 years away from turning SIXTY and your ass still thinks you're 25. LA Knight was LITERALLY there to do this segment with. There are useful nepo babies and useless nepo babies. You can guess where I think Shane belongs.

7. Snoop essentially flying through the air just to hit one elbow drop 😂😂😂

8. Edge and Finn’s video package was TOP tier! And the fact that Russell Crowe was involved is insane!!!

9. Shout out to Finn for continuing the match with his head split open. Holy cow.

10. Great match from Edge and Finn. Really good.

11. The main event felt like a HUGE deal. Fabulous entrances.

12. Immaculate entrance by Cody Rhodes. I had chills. He looked like the star that he is. His jacket was 🔥🔥🔥 The wings on the back made it look so epic.

13. Tears in my eyes when he hugged his family and then gave his belt to Negative One.

14. This was Roman’s first grand entrance as the Tribal Chief. The pianists went off. Loved how the soft piano ended and the BOOM opening of his theme song followed right after. So intimidating.

15. He didn’t change his pants. Just his boots. Boo, Mr Reigns. That doesn’t count.

16. Shout out to Samantha Irvin and her intros. That girl is GOOD.

17. Solo the shooter, terrorizing Cody at every turn. It eventually paid off. That’s why Roman don’t talk to his brothers anymore, lol. They’re not as reliable as their baby brother.

18. ROLLERCOASTER of a match. The ejection of Solo, the near falls! 😭

19. This match would have been five stars for me if it wasn’t for the ref bump. It’s like the 4th match in a row it was happening and it’s a bit repetitive. Let Roman have a no DQ match for once so he can do what he wants.

20. My jaw dropped when the ref counted to three! I honestly thought Cody was winning. I was sooo shocked. Nothing I thought would happen, happened

21. It will be interesting to see what is going to happen next because I have no clue. Will Cody still chase the titles or will it be someone else? How badly will Roman bully the twins now that they are no longer champions?

22. Lmao at Roman using every social media platform to gloat afterwards. He knew this was the reaction he would get and he was loving it.

Overall: Night 1 was much better than Night 2 IMO. Night 1 is probably the best Mania night I’ve ever watched. Practically every match delivered and I was happy.

MVP of the weekend - Dominik Mysterio. He was flawless. Heeled it up to the nines. His match with his father was near perfect. Bright future for that young man

Line of the weekend - “This is what Dominik gave up for those bozos, Dominik deserved what he got tonight at Mania”- Michael Cole spitting 🔥 the entire show.

What did you agree or disagree with?

[sixsticks]

((I’ve never done something like this before so forgive me if I butcher your poor unsuspecting post))

Tim doesn’t like amusement parks. They are loud and overstimulating, and remind him of things he’d rather leave behind him. But Bernard had wanted to come here after they’d ended up in Illinois. (after a much needed road trip to escape the natural insanity that was gothams night life) So despite himself,Tim, in typical Tim fashion, caved instantly. He swallowed down the anxiety in his gut, and attended the event with his boyfriend. It wasn’t in Gotham, so there was a 40% less chance of it being attacked by rouges. (Knowing his luck though, Tim was still a bit apprehensive. He made sure to pack his taser and slipping it past the metal detectors was easy work.)

And as much as Tim hated to admit it,He’d honestly been having fun. Getting to ride the coasters, and run around playing stupid games while they waited in line, all with one of the people he cared most about in the entire world, was an experience that eased part of the writhing beast inside his gut.

Tim was very proud of his disguise too. He’d made it himself! Though he’d ended up tying the green plaid hoodie around his waist for most of the day. Summer had sank her claws into the day, and didn’t release until the sun dipped below the sky. The thin hoodie would have been perfect for Gothams cloudy murky chill that persisted from early fall to late spring, was unbearable in sweltering Illinois sun.

Anyway, all that is to say, they stayed late. Getting thrills as they went. He and Bernard had ended up riding a lot of the rides several times. Which while surprisingly, was really nice. And no one sprung a mystery at him or pulled a gun on him and Bernard! (Yet, echoed the scratchy voice of the gothamite skeptic that persisted in the back of his mind.)

By the time they’d circled back on the Haunted roller coaster par for the course, Tim was a bit more confident. Even the first time they’d rode this ride Tim had pleaded with Bernard to sit in the front with him. But Bernard had strongly stated he’d be puking into Tim’s lap before they finished climbing the first hill. Tim wasn’t a jerk so he didn’t make his boyfriend sit in the front, instead opting to sit middle each time and slinging an arm around Bernard’s shoulders.

But the line was getting longer now, and as they both looked back in the line as they neared the front it was clear they definitely weren’t riding this one again. The wait time had gone from half an hour to three hours and fourty five minutes.

So Bernard, sweet, lovely, generous Bernard, had pushed Tim to the front when they went to board the cars. “Go be an adrenaline junkie. Don’t worry about me, you’ll hear me screaming.

After a bit of weak protesting from Tim about not wanting to leave his boyfriend, and Bernard’s insistence, Tim slotted himself into the left passenger seat of the first row.

He looked the single rider that had joined him there up and down. His bat-trained mind jumping at the chance like the pest it tended to be when Tim was just trying to enjoy himself. Ratty red shoes, Flared, worn, and ripped jeans. One of the pockets looked like it had a hole, a baggy white shirt with a red collar and cuffs. Blue-greens eyes. Black hair.

Tim averted his eyes before he was caught looking. But the Teen beside him didn’t notice. Tim couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, this kid was bat-nip. Adoption bait. Praise whatever god Damian had yet to hunt down and slaughter, Tim was glad they were in Illinois. Four brothers and three and a half sisters was *more* than enough for everyone. (Except Bruce. The man didn’t realize they had reached the end of ‘passive hobby of picking up orphans’ had turned full on into some sort mania. Tim mentally jotted down to schedule the man for therapy.)

Oh- Tim jolted-the ride was moving. He’d forgotten he was on one, ha! He missed Bernard’s handsome face, which could always drag him out of a thought sinkhole just by smiling like the dork he was. Tim turned back to wave at him. Craning his neck so he could see his boyfriend smiling cheekily, firmly in the middle row. A knowing quirk of the eyebrow.

The coaster jolted to a start. Tim flailed for a moment, grabbing onto the arm of the unfortunate person next to him as he righted himself in the seat. The kid flinched, but he had no time to apologize because they shot off, careening up and down the hills and various tunnels. Tim yelped, and whooped, and screaming the whole way. Joy written across his face as the adrenaline ran through him just like it did during Gothams late nights, when he donned his mask and cape.

When the ride came to an end Tim turned to the seat next to him and…found nothing. His eyes widened a touch, jumping into panic observation mode. The harness was still down. The seatbelt still buckled. But there was no teen In the seat. His eyes jumped to the offloading area, maybe he’d wiggled his way out of the seat somehow? No. Nothing, the platform was empty, and the front row was clearly the last row unloaded.

So…where had the kid Gone? Tim zoned out as he and Bernard walked to the photo area, Tim’s face scrunched in thought as he tried to figure out what had happened. The ride operator had just shrugged and moved on at Tim’s questioning. Bernard couldn’t say if he’d seen anyone there. Tim could feel the ache to solve this problem itching at the inside of his skull between his eyebrows.

Tim paid the outrageous photo fee easily. $30 a photo was nothing compared to his net worth. He bought Bernard’s too without a second thought. His eyes scanning the candid photo from the tunnel. Grimacing as his eyes initially locked on to the unflattering picture of his face, his features distorted with glee and wind blown dishevelment. Tim shook his head. Refocusing on the photo.

There in the seat next to Tim, was the half visible figure of the kid. His eyes green and empty, and his limbs fading into the seat as he gripped the saftey bar.

A ghost. Ok. How had he died? Why was he haunting this amusement park of all places?

Tim wanted answers. Maybe because he hadn’t gotten his hands on a mystery since he’d left Gotham a week ago, or maybe because the kids eyes had looked so bright before TheyHe train had started up. And in the picture looked blank and distant and almost desperate.

Tim would figure out how the kid died and then he’d put the spirit to rest. So he called up Bruce and told him to not wait up expecting him. That he’d be staying in small town Illinois for a bit longer than Bernard to work on a case.

So he kisses Bernard goodbye, walks him to the car, watches as he pulls down the bush street. The he scampers back into the hotel room they’d gotten, and zones *all the way In*

He’s determined to solve the case. Red Robin is nothing if not dedicated and true to his word.

So Tim spends the next week and a half jumping through legal loopholes, squinting at accident reports, and drinking enough coffee to have him end up on a cold sterile slab.

He goes back to the park, in search of the kid. Tim could have sworn he’d seen the kid in the crowds a handful of times but he can never seem to catch him. And all the camera footage is either corrupted, at the wrong angle, or strangely enough, tampered with. And well, Tim can’t just let that slide. He looks into it.

And because Tim’s life can never be normal, not even once or ever at all, He finds out the theme park is a coverup for a weapons dealer, and uncovers the near hundreds of deaths and missing persons that have been attributed to accidents or gone cold because of under the table dealings.

So as Tim sorts that out (sending several emails to Mr.Clark Kent, who was happy to play whistle blower) he sorts through each and every file looking for death and missing person reports for the kid he had seen.

He finds nothing. So he expands his search. The whole state. He finds more shady shit. Apparently there’s a government organization that’s entire purpose is exterminating and experimenting on ghosts and ghost adjacent meta’s. The Goons in white? Something like that. Tim cracks his neck, and sends the case link with all the evidence to Louis lane. She’s nearly frothing at the mouth over the phone when she calls him for more information.

The GIW is disbanded by the second wensday after Tim met the ghost kid. But Tim can’t find anything on said kid. The best he has is a hospital trip from some kid from Amity Park, that’s in dead set middle of nowhere. It had initially looked promising! The file had been sealed even, but upon visiting the home, the Fentons had assured him of their son’s very much alive state, who was at school. (The lack of photos of the kid should have definitely tipped Tim off, looking back. But he’d gone with less than an hour of sleep every day for the last 2 weeks. Cut him some slack-)

The whole town had seemed really off all together though but Tim, after spending a month and a half now looking for the ghost kid decided to add that to the ‘investigate later’ pile.

And then one night, while Tim was blearily staring at his screen, having to re-read the report for the seventh time, (To account for the fact that the letters and words were jumping across the screen and fading in and out of his vision,) The damn ghost kid climbed out of the hotel’s floor.

They’d made eye contact, and stared at eachother for a long second. Tim immediately wanting to ask a shit load of questions.

Ghost kid shook his head. “Questions later, it’s Bed Time for baby stalkers.” And before Tim could react he was being picked up and put in the unused hotel bed, and he was out like a light.

Dp x dc idea: Haunted House

Danny goes into a haunted rollercoaster ride and unknowingly sits next to Tim Drake. They take off and Danny gets so scared at some point that he phases right out of his seat. It’s sorta ok since they’re in the dark and stuff so nobody sees him, but the ride is over before Danny can get back on and he just goes like "welp fuck this, imma dip and hope for the best". Tim finishes the ride and realizes the guy that was beside him is gone. Like the restraint and belt is still there but there’s no more guy. And Tim is like "am I going crazy right now??" And the workers don’t remember Danny coz they do this ride like 100 times a day. Maybe later on, as Tim is walking around the amusement park in a daze, he sees Danny walking around like normal but there’s so many people he loses sight of him in the crowd, and once again nobody can corroborate they even saw Danny coz y’know it’s a crowd. 

So now Tim’s convinced there’s a ghost haunting the amusement park and he’s determined to solve the murder(?) that may or may not have happened here and give the ghost some peace.

[gossipgorlhere]

I stole adderall from a pharmacy I worked in

When I was 17 in my senior year of highschool I worked as a cashier at the front cash in a pharmacy. Near the end of every shift I was responsible for emptying all of the garbages in the storefront, pharmacy and in the back area where merchandise was stored. I never worked in the actual pharmacy area, though every shift I would have to enter it to obviously take out the garbage as well as store my cash from the register into the safe.

When I first got the job, say September of the previous year, one of my friends who used to work there started telling me about how the security cameras didn't actually work, and that the alarms at the front doors didn't go off if someone was stealing. I didn't think much of this at the time because I wasn't really the type of kid/teen to get into trouble..

One day in March or April when I was taking out the garbage at the end of my shift, I went into the back of the pharmacy and saw that the cabinet beside trash can was open. I was slowly changing the garbage bag and kept glancing at the bottles of pills labeled "Adderall XR 20mg, 100 pills". I guess I just let my intrusive thoughts take over because I grabbed a bottle and took it with me as I put the garbage into the dumpster out back of the store. I hid this bottle in my "manbag" (I was big into dressing for success in highschool, though my family is low-middle class, my image was "preppy") and walked through the alarms without anything going off.. I was home free.

The next day I woke up for school at 6am and took a pill. I started abusing Adderall for the next few months, my grades went from an 85 average (Canadian) to a 94 average and I graduated with honors. I always hid this bottle in the leather satchel bag (manbag is the word I got shit on with for having it), and would take it with me everywhere I went. My family never found out. I was probably a completely different person on Adderall, but nobody questioned it.. I always felt like a side character in life even before this.

I ended up stealing another bottle, 30mg, some point after graduating and spent the summer in mania with a friend, abusing Adderall and alcohol.. hell, I probably should have died from this; I was sometimes taking 100mg of Adderall at 10am, then would proceed to drink absurd amounts of alcohol the same night.. I was a mess, and I was also so uneducated yet lucky because I didn't even realize the psychotic episodes when they were happening - blacking out everytime I drank, walking home from parties in this state sometimes 4 hours or more. Everyone around me loved it apparently; my humiliation when blackout drunk was entertaining to them, so I guess I was at least still a nice guy?

I continued taking these pills when I went to college. Life was great at the time, apparently, from what I can remember at least. Then the colleges went on strike for a month and I was basically living on college residence with no classes, just partying everyday. I took absurd amounts of Adderall, up to 150mg at a time.. I dropped out of college 2.5 months into the semester since I ran out of pills and the withdrawals hit.. I don't remember too much of this as my brain was fried from the drugs, though I did use my last $500 to buy my first guitar and basically saved myself from suicide by spending every waking hour teaching myself to play it when I moved back home.

Fast forward to now.. I'm 24. I heavily regret this as I'm dealing with mental health issues, basically no recollection of my life before I was 19, and still go to the same pharmacy every month to get my prescription.. I never got caught or questioned about what happened. I was diagnosed with ADHD when I was 18, after all this happened. Again, I probably should've died or ended up in jail at minimum.. sometimes I even question if getting caught or snitched on would've been better for me.

[f4rlands]

[YOU SHOULD NOT ANSWER FOR ME.]

Grian feels his brows furrow in confusion, “I shouldn’t- oh! Is this because I messed with the content generator?”

Grumbot’s angered gaze does not change, stern and burrowing, observing his father with the same belittling detachment a scientist may observe a test subject. The look is near tangible, digging tunnels under his skin and settling down to sleep. The son stares, the father feels terrifyingly seen.

“I’m sorry,” he tries, hands waving through the air in a fruitless attempt to fix the artificial feelings he seems to have hurt. “Look, I probably shouldn’t have changed anything, I’m sorry–”

Another paper is printing. The grating noise reverberates through the air and Grian has to fight the urge to clamp his hands over his ears. The churning of the printer feels intentional, pointed, human- like the Grumbot before him carries years of wisdom and experience and emotion, well-practised in this stare that grapples at his core.

Something… something is wrong. The air is suffocating under Grumbot’s nettled gaze, the lab seems artificial, suddenly, and the noise from the rift seems to grow more and more agitated with each passing second. Everything, every little detail of the room, is just slightly askew- as though the world is playing through a warped layer of film, blemished and ingenuine.

The page lies on the ground, and there is uncertainty clamouring in Grian’s gut as he reaches forward to take it.

[MY GRIAN WAS SORRY TOO.]

Static rushes through his extremities as he reads and rereads the blocky letters on the page, taking in the sight until the ink has settled and the paper has cooled. It feels like a threat— Grian turns suddenly, checking the space behind him where the rift sits, unassuming.

Blood is pounding in his ears as he turns back to face Grumbot, surveying the vast room as thoroughly as possible as his vision passes over it.

Shakily, quietly, he asks: “What does that mean?”

Grumbot’s face has returned to neutrality, a painfully plain expression which gives away nothing of importance even in the face of implications like this. “Grum- Grum, please, what does that mean?”

His son is quiet and unmoving. His son- no, this isn’t his Grumbot, this isn’t his son. This Grumbot has seen things that he and Mumbo would never have allowed; there’s no telling what happened in this Grumbot’s timeline - after Mumbo became mayor. 

The implications held in this single piece paper are insane; stomach-churning and putrid. Perhaps- perhaps they should have been more appreciative that Mumbo lost, way back in the Season 7 world.

Maybe Grian should message Mumbo- he’s been trying to keep the other up-to-date on the happenings of the server, to… what? Help him feel included? Entice him back? It doesn’t matter, Mumbo hasn’t really been responding—

His heart drops to his stomach. The rift is silent.

Grian tears his communicator from where it hangs on his belt faster than he ever has before, sweat forming on his palms and heart thrumming in his ears. He navigates, somewhat clumsily, to his and Mumbo’s private messages, just to check, just to be sure– 

His hands shake as a detail he hadn’t noticed before sits before him, clear as day. The messages haven’t even been received.

He scrolls up, eyes growing damp and desperation coursing through him, observing the hundreds of messages left not just unread, but undelivered. Suddenly, the radio silence from his best friend seems less like he is enjoying some time to himself, and more like something sinister.

"Are you... is Mumbo okay?" His voice is fragile, teetering on the edge of desperate as a wave of frigid terror threatens to crash down.

Grumbot doesn't respond, face staying neutral as he stares over Grian's head, into the rift.

“Grumbot, please , what happened? Mumbo became mayor and then, what? Someone snapped?” He can’t hold back the giggles swelling in his chest,, a note of mania slipping into them as he faces Grumbot, stance firm. A single tear slips down his cheek. “You have to tell me what happened!” 

The shrill yell rings throughout the cave, bouncing off of every surface in a dissonant chorus. Grian’s eyes dart around the room, paranoid and instinctive, desperately searching for any figure that may be hiding.

There is no response from Grumbot, the robot standing stoic and intimidating in the vast cavern. Every gasp of the wind and crow of the rift makes him startle as they remain in silence, and Grian cannot stand to be in this room for a second longer.

He crouches, gazing up at the robot who is most certainly not his son, before taking off with a shaky, rattling breath. He needs to visit Xisuma, he needs to know that Mumbo is safe.

They need to talk about whatever this could mean.

[diedbutterflies69]

Unexpected

Contains: smut, doctor Chan X secret agent reader, mentions of blood and wounds, fingering, explicit sexual stuff etc.

This is just imagination , doesn't represent any living person.

Being a secret agent or whatsoever title you had, an undercover agent working for the so called government which is crumbling down daily, everything and everyone getting exploited , evil and the social justice was buried somewhere under the huge pile of black money. They needed people like you, who aren't afraid to lose anything , people who can jump in Hell , without any hesitation and who can kill human in inhumane ways when situation occurs. That's the kind of live you lived, Just breathing and completing missions assigned a mere game character, getting losing sanity everyday , your teenage years were wasted in getting trained to be a perfect monster under leash. Love? What the hell was even that ? You never felt that you deserved something so pure as love but your real physical wounds lead you to the person who mended and stitched your bleeding heart, treated you like human not caring if your hands were painted by bloods of many people like you, how can he even fell for me this question always kept revolving around your head. He saved lives yet he was loving a grim reaper unconditionally.

" Aahh what the hell , it hurts, can you be a little gentle, Chris ?" You asked him with tearful eyes , lying on your back on his bed.

" Oh, now you can feel pain ?" , Chan sarcastically commented while dressing up your wounded arm, maybe he applied a little too much Antiseptic on your accidentally opened stitches during your little escape from rat hole. He was angry you knew not on you but himself for not having enough power to gift you freedom from your job. You tried to lighten up his mood, but failed.

" Done, don't move this a lot, you have knife right ? Just use that or simply shoot, don't have a wrestle mania match over there", Chan gave you a genuine boring lecture after fully dressing up your wound. You have been hearing this same monologue since years , never getting tired of it. Chan got up to throw the bloody cotton balls you saw him disappearing from the room, after a minute a came back a tray filled with many cutted fruits , He looked so beautiful when he showed such type of platonic love to you, a selfless man he indeed was. He settled beside you and helped you getting up back, head resting on the headboard.

"Have this", Chan said bringing up a piece of apple near your lips, you bited that down and smiled at Chan before saying, " An Apple a day keeps the doctor away", Chan let out a soft chuckle , you being childish wasn't something he was really used to.

" I won't go away from you though ", Chan said as he bought another piece of fruit towards you, biting it down Reluctantly.

" I am not hungry", you said and placed the tray on table beside bedroom, you rested your head on Chan's lap , hugging his waist tightly , feeling warm and fuzzy like being in home.

" You remember when we first met?", you asked Chan as your mind drifted away in the past memories , one of the best mistakes of your life that resulted you in not paying hospital bills throughout your life.

" You looked like a zombie that day", Chan said jokingly making you groan out in annoyance. His fingers were playing with your hair, making you relaxed.

" I thought I saw an Beautiful Angel that day, you looked ethereal", you said honestly , remembering how beautiful he looked, recalling every small details on the back of your mind.

" Thanks, I guess" Chan said shyly, His dimples being visible as his lips turned upwards in a beautiful smile. You could admire this man forever, he was Art.

Few minutes passed in complete comfortable silence, the night sky looked a little too beautiful from his home but nothing topped the view of that beautiful man you were hugging so tightly.

" Kiss me", you said as you looked up at Chan in anticipation. He was caught off guard by your sudden request but nevertheless completed your request, bringing his soft plum lips against yours in a soft kiss. You felt butterflies erupting inside your stomach as his lips moved against yours so perfectly, you smiled in the kiss as you felt tingly sensations rising on your body as his tongue entered in your mouth, even though the kiss wasn't rough you felt like your body is on fire, Chan was such a great kisser. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, slightly tilting your head to reach even deeper, while the other one was intervened with yours . He finally broke the kiss to breathe some air, he pecked the corner of your lips and forehead.

" You want to go further?", Chan asked you seriously looking in your eyes he even if he was hard down there with just kissing you, he won't continue if you weren't comfortable.

"Obviously", you said as got up from his lap, hands reaching out to get rid of his hoddie but he stopped you.

" Your hand ?" Chan asked you.

"Fuck that, it's absolutely fine " you whined out in desperation, desperate for his touch, your sexual appetite was surely something he liked a little too much. Chan smirked at you as removed his hoddie, his sculpted body finally being exposed to your hungry eyes , you sometimes doubted this man's real profession. The fact that he was completely yours made you feel some type of way.

" Lay down", Chan said as he moved down inbetween your legs, he removed your shorts and parted your legs, admiring your thighs and noticing a wet patch on your panties. He palmed your clothed core, a fucking tease.

"please", you let out a whine, begging for Chan to just finger fuck you relentlessly. Your voice worked like a spell on him always. He didn't waste any more time before removing your panties and throwing them somewhere on the floor, his cold ring finger moved on your opening collecting the wetness in a slow way. He entered his middle finger inside you, your warm walls wrapping around him almost immediately too desperate for him, he curled it inside you as he entered one more slowly preparing you. The stimulation felt too good, filthy wet noises and your moans filled the room. His one hand pushing your trembling thigh on the mattress holding it secularly. You noticed how the veins on Chan's arm became more prominent due to the rough ministrations he was doing to you. Scissoring your pussy as he entered a third finger inside you, loving the way you responded to his touch, and the meaningless words you were blabbering boosted his ego.

"You look so pretty, all spread out just for me" Chan praised you, the realisation hitting him too that he had such a dangerous women being such a vulnerable mess just for him, only he was allowed to touch you and make you see the stars. He sensed you being close to your high, your moans were getting louder as Chan's fingers perfectly hitted every corner inside you.

" Gonna , gonna cum" , you announced, getting closer to edge as your lover did wonders down there.

"Cum", Chan said and that was all that you needed to before breaking down on his fingers, your high washed over you, feeling like being on cloud nine his thumb was now rubbing your clit providing more stimulation and fucking you through orgasm, his fingers were knuckle deep inside you it felt damn good but the feeling didn't last long as he removed them , cold air brushing over your wet sex you whined at lost of touch.

"Such a greedy princess I have", Chan said as he looked into your tearful eyes , he placed his fingers inside his mouth not breaking the eye contract, fuck that looked so hot, he exactly know what effect he had on you.

"you taste nice', Chan said as his hand cupped your breasts through your top you weren't wearing bra, you wanted his cock inside you right now.

" Fuck me, please", you said with doe eyes Chan always gave you pleasure but bit by bit , it was enough to make you lose your mind completely.

" As you say babe", Chan said as he removed your top leaving you fully naked , he bought down his sweat pants down along with boxers, his erection sprunging out of restrictions, no matter how many times you saw him, Chan's size always made you wonder how the hell he even fitted inside you. He aligned his cock at your entrance and in one swift motion he was halfway inside you, he gave you enough time to adjust around him, he liked rough sex too, and so do you but there are times when he just wants to move in and out of you ever so slowly, making you feel his passion and love . He looked straight in your eyes while his hips slapped against yours, he wipped the tears off your cheeks and engulfed your lips in a passionate kiss.

"Chan-- Chan", you whimpered bucking up your hips to match up with his thrust, just wanting to cum.

"you feel so good , God", Chan groaned out in pleasure , your cunt was squeezing his dick too perfectly you, his lips found your breast and he kissed it hungrily , cupping and squeezing ,only pleasure clouded inside your mind. Your hand reached grabbed Chan's arm muscle for support , he made you feel so damn good and again you were close.

"I am close fuck", Chan growled in your ear, he sounded so fucking hot, you both were finding each other the most beautiful creature ever even in such a fucked out, filthy state.

" I will free you , don't you ever worry. Just wait, we will be happy together"

[chasing-caws]

YES!! THIS!!!

For the first time in both their lives, at least for Furiosa since she was stolen from her home and for Jack probably forever, they both allow themselves this brief respite from always being in survival mode.

Since the day she was stolen, Furiosa has had to put herself into survival mode, never able to process any of the profound trauma or loss she experienced at such a young age, and then continuing to have to be in survival mode as she hid among the workers of the Citadel, working among them but never able to trust anyone.

Then, she meets Jack. But that doesn’t completely change things. Over those years, she allows herself to lean some of her weariness, some of her constant fight to keep herself aware and safe, onto him. She learns over time that she can trust him at her back, that she doesn’t have to carry this mania that is her fight for survival in this cruel wasteland.

But still, she never truly slips out of that survival mode, that mindset, and neither does Jack. These are two individuals, one that we know is profoundly traumatized and has been fighting and clawing and tearing her way through life, through survival from the moment she was taken. And the other, while more vague, no doubt has experienced his own profound trauma. So it makes sense that everyone in the wasteland is in a near constant state of a drive to simply survive, to not enjoy but keep pushing onto that next day.

And then. And THEN. Jack releases her from her service at his side, and Furiosa is just confounded at this. As he tells her “you’re done here, I’ll help you gather supplies,” we see her sort of space out, as if pondering, wondering how simply leaving was even a possibility at this point. We see the ghost of a smile when he gifts her the shotgun, as she examines it with no doubt a little wonder, because she’s never experienced anything like this before Jack in the wasteland.

Camaraderie, the trust between two warriors to have one another’s backs, to simply be given something as a gift rather than some sort of manipulation or power play.

But then, he says she’s done, releases her from her service that he offered her all those years ago, and she’s set adrift at the idea of leaving behind this man, this kind person, the only kind person other than the wives she briefly met in the wasteland. At the idea of simply abandoning him after years of built trust between them, of learning how to fight together, how to work together and protect one another when needed.

And then, the nightmare. Someone in me and @xoruffitup’s discord server suggested the idea that him releasing her from her service might have triggered the nightmare (if that was you then sorry for not remembering if it was you or someone else who suggested this!)

This is such a fascinating lens to look at this through, that him releasing her from her service set her adrift at the idea of abandoning the only peace, only kindness she’s experienced in this cruel wretched wasteland like he didn’t become her peace, like he didn’t give her room to BREATHE in this hellscape.

And so, like the suggestion of the release from service triggering the nightmare, what if it triggered this specific nightmares of her mother because Mary made her leave her behind? Jack is telling her to leave, to go back home, to leave him, as though he hasn’t become entangled in the threads of her life by providing her shelter in the storm her life has been.

And so, when he reaches out and she jerks up to stab him and she stops him, we need to examine them. How they simply take a moment to acknowledge and look at one another. In this moment, I truly believe that Jack realized that it wasn’t just deep mutual respect and trust, but that he’d come to truly care for this vicious woman, so full of fire and fury. As he gently eases her back down, her eyes never leave his face, and oh so incrementally, Furiosa’s face softens as she continues to watch him.

And then, Gas Town. Jack redirects Dementus’ attention onto himself, he can feel the tension from Furiosa and while he doesn’t understand it, he steps in between, to be that shield for her to use to stop her fury from making her act.

And then, the stabbing, and Jack taking it out. Him shaking out the handkerchief before tenderly placing it under her pauldron and holding it in place, her deep, heaved sigh of relief as the tension bleeds out of her. The way Jack keeps his hand resting on her pauldron then the back of her seat, the way she shakes herself out slightly to get rid of the tension.

And then, the confrontation with People Eater and Immortan Joe. They both weather the lecture, straight backed and silent as they’re berated.

AND THEN!! THE OASIS SCENE!! Which I’ve analyzed to hell and back but here’s more!!!

Jack patching her up with crude stitches, her clearly having shown him the star map before the scene started at some point while they were at the oasis because while it’s shown on screen, in this moment we the audience are vouyers. We are intruding on a pivotal moment in their relationship, and the fact that Furiosa has already shown him the star map at some point earlier before the scene started reinforces that we are intruding, that this isn’t really for US but for these two characters.

We watch as, even though she’s trusted him enough to finally show him the map, she doesn’t feel like she can let down those final walls yet, so when he asks where the map leads, she pulls her arm from his gentle grasp and looks away, terrified to let down that last wall.

And then, Jack shares that information about his parents searching for a virtuous cause to fight for, and never finding it. With this monologue, Jack not only conveys that he himself trusts her, but he also conveys that he’s devoted to helping her find this place, that he wants to make helping her his own virtuous cause.

When he first mentions his parents searching for a virtuous cause, this is the first point that Furiosa glances at him again after looking away after slipping her arm from his grasp.

Her eyes appear to shimmer with unshed tears, as if in awe with Jack sharing something so personal and being stunned at the implications of what he’s saying.

And Jack does not intend for this to be an exchange, personal information for personal information, unasked for private information in exchange for the location to her star map. He’s trying to convey simply that he trusts her and is devoted to helping her, and this utter devotion, this oath shocks Furiosa, who decides, in that moment, to ask him.

To ask him to come with her. She wants to bring her only peace in the wasteland to her childhood home, wants to bring the man who became a home, a shelter in a hurricane, to paradise with her, because the idea of simply parting ways after everything they’ve gone through is unbearable but she wasn’t sure if she had the right to ask such a thing of him until his declaration of devotion with the information about his parents.

And Jack. The way emotion completely overwhelms him when Furiosa asks him to come with her, how he barely chokes back tears but does it so that he can give an incremental nod before closing her hand back over the seed, and using his own hand to help her shield her secret from the cruelty of the wasteland.

And this, no doubt, reminds Furiosa of her last shared moments alone with her mother, who gave her the seed, who closed her hand over it before clasping her own hand over Furiosa’s the same way Jack is doing now.

And in that moment, Furiosa truly leaps off that ledge into allowing herself to be devoted to this man who has only ever helped her, been kind to her, and never asked for anything in exchange.

So, after he holds his own hand over hers as a shield from the wasteland, she tugs him, without hesitation, into the Vuvalini gesture for affection, whether familial or romantic.

And when Jack slowly mirrors her hand placement, she flexes her fingers slightly as if to assure him it’s done correctly. They’re both devoted to one another, just one more day until they’re free and can leave.

And their little tussle, they can’t completely clamp down on their joy, knowing freedom is within reach. Jack cant repress a small smile as Furiosa rounds the rig to start their “fight”, Furiosa can’t completely squash a brief smile as she asks “what are you doing?” While turned away from him.

And then, bullet farm. How Furiosa gets some of the attackers and Jack’s horrified expression that she’s still here, that she hasn’t taken this opportunity to go.

After they take care of the first group of the horde, Furiosa honks the horn, wanting him, needing him to come with her. She can’t do this alone anymore, can’t leave behind her shelter. But Jack sees the enemy closing in, and he resigns himself, fires the flare, telling Furiosa to leave him.

And Furiosa is enraged and grief stricken as she steps out of the car, staring at the flare with eyes glistening with tears and rage at the idea of simply leaving him behind. She drives a few feet in her anger before slamming on the brakes and swinging around, because god fucking damn it, she doesn’t leave people behind. Not her people, not people that are willing to sacrifice themselves for her. That’s not allowed.

She goes back, and together they fight, Furiosa picking off attackers while Jack does the same. And then, Jack sees her STILL there, and he’s absolutely haunted by this. He’s horrified that she’s wasting her chance at getting home on trying to save him, but he’s also in awe because no one has ever come for him like this, he’s never been the focus or the thought of to save.

And then, Dementus fires the RPG, and Jack thinks she’s dead. Staring in utter horror, he refocuses, and slams the war rig into the tower Dementus is standing on without hesitation. Because if Furiosa was dead because she came back for him, he would avenge her even if it killed him.

And then, Furiosa saves him with the grappling hook, and they make it back to the Valiant. Furiosa announces “we’re good” before driving off, affirming that they’re ready and good to go.

She tells him the plan, gulping as she does so. Unbeknownst to her, Jack is looking at her softly, like she’s the only person in the world, like she’s a goddess on Earth, and he smiles, small but genuine, as he allows himself to slip out of survival mode for the first time in his life.

And when Furiosa finishes telling him the plan, he oh so softly repeats “all the way.” And Furiosa swallows, finally, in 15 years, allows herself to put down the constant fight for survival to truly experience what she feels for Jack, and it overwhelms her, chokes her as she smiles oh so softly as well, before they’re both slammed back into survival mode as Dementus hunts them.

I am SO sorry this is just incoherent rambling that went off the rails from commenting on that one scene to a whole semi analysis mostly ramble rant about furyjack. I am very sleep deprived, and I plan to write a more comprehensive analysis of these two that’s more coherent than this garbage soon <3

We'll head east for three days. Once we clear the escarpment and the great salt plains, we'll take the bikes over the dunes all the way. All the way.

Furiosa & Praetorian Jack Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga (2024) dir. George Miller

[flusteredloser]

subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader

it fandom week: huddling for warmth

content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k

at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny.  now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.

“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”

eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour. 

thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics.  mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep.  you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together.  but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further.   speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later. 

now, though, you still had one child left.

hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.

“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.

“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.

“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”

clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.

“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”

“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.

you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.” 

“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.”  you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory. 

“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.

“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket. 

“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”

you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall. 

the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.

walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door. 

you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.

“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.” 

“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."

“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”

you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”

she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.” 

“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.

she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”

taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”

she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”

“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”

pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature. 

clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev. 

bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you...  absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?

“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.

never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her. 

by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”

she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys. 

"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.

quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself. 

a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers. 

without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”

“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.

you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”

“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”

you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”

“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”

“aww-”

“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”

bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”

“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.

now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering? 

immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile. 

“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.

“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.

“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”

“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.

she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”

“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected. 

even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”

suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.

“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.

“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach. 

you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?

after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.

“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings. 

“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.

“no, no, no, do not do that again.”

bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”

“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.

bev moves about an inch closer. 

you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.

“are- are you... you want me to-”

you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”

“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.  

“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?” 

having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often. 

bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.

“stop that before i regret this, bev.”

“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”

you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.

“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.

that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev. 

after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair. 

you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.

just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.

wait. the window? 

your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time. 

snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.

instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side,  placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.

“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”

[genderqueer-karma]

hi~ welcome to my blog! ♡

(if you follow or are already following, please like or interact to let me know you've read this)

BASIC INFO:

☆ my carrd ☆

☆ My name is Dio, but you can call me Dora or Devin as well. Ultimately though, I prefer Dio if I don't know you irl. Bonus points if you can guess how many inspirations I had on that ;)

☆ I'm Black. Keep that in mind, always.

☆ I'm a minor. If that bothers you, feel free not to interact.

☆ My pronouns are they/them. I also use þei/þem (still pronounced they/them), but mostly jokingly. You may use she/her if we're close, but please ask beforehand! He/him is fine for jokes, but not always. And finally, never use "it/its" for me, since I personally find them to be dehumanizing. I'm a black enby, so surely you can understand why I feel that way. Any neos and whatnot are just what they are 🤷‍♀️. I'll let you know for sure if a pronoun makes me uncomfortable.

☆ I have two active sideblogs:

@dios-multiverse ~ my writing and oc sideblog

@crucible-memes-4-salem-teens ~ my sideblog based on the 1953 play The Crucible where I am head mod.

○°•°○°•°○

MY CURRENT INTERESTS:

♡ Ace Attorney! I love the silly little lawyer game, so feel free to talk to me about it! I've watched playthroughs of the trilogy and am currently playing Investigations 2 as well as the TGAA duology. In addition, I've watched most of the stage plays as well as the anime and the live-action film. I have yet to watch the musicals. Plus, AA gave me my current problematic fave~

♡ Ouran High School Host Club! OHSHC is a lifelong love of mine. However, I've only watched the anime and have only read the first three volumes of the manga. Still, I don't mind spoilers, so if I come across them, I'll be okay. I don't have a *favorite* host, though I am somewhat partial to Mori-senpai.

♡ JoJo's Bizarre Adventure! This is a recent interest of mine, so I've only watched up through Part 3 (started Part 4 recently!) and have yet to read the manga for any part. Once again, I have no qualms with spoilers, so feel free.

♡ Markiplier! Once again, lifelong appreciation for him as a person and creator. One of my favorite series from him is probably his playthough of West of Loathing, though I love most of his other videos as well and find myself coming back to his channel again and again.

♡ RTGame! Another favorite youtuber of mine. I love most of his videos as well, though his Planet Coaster videos are what drew me to his channel initially. I really like his content, so I frequently watch his videos.

☆ The Crucible! Yes, that play from the 50s. It gripped me in a hyperfixation when I was in 11th grade and hasn't let go since, hence the blog! I also like other works of "classic literature", though my interest in those is a bit more tame.

♡ Percy Jackson and the Olympians! (and related franchises, such as Heroes of Olympus). Though I'm out of the "target" demographic for those books, they are still near and dear to my heart. However, (possibly controversial opinion) I don't like Jason Grace as a character. Sorry guys, but he's mid. 🤷‍♀️

♡ My Chemical Romance! This band has stuck with me since middle school and I did cry when I found out they got back together, so jot that down. Also stream Foundations of Decay.

♡ Fall Out Boy! Another lifelong love of mine. I've loved this band since before I knew it existed. It truly has been there for me from the start. Also, MANIA is a good album, you guys are just anti-black. 🤷‍♀️

♡ MALICE MIZER! I've only recently started listening to them (and the members' solo work), but so far I really like them! It feels weird to be obsessed with a band that was created and broke up went on indefinite hiatus before I was even born, but I'm used to it at this point. Like the blog description says: I experience gender envy for Mana-sama.

♡ Queen! I typically only listen to music from the 90s and 2000s, but I love Queen a lot. Like with Fall Out Boy, I liked a lot of their music before I even knew it was them, which is interesting for a number of reasons.

♡ ABBA! Another golden group from the 70s. Absolutely love them and I think it's funny how they can now say they went on a 40-year hiatus. How many of your faves can say the same?

♡ BABYMETAL! While I'm not caught up on all the lore (I'm getting there, okay?) I really do like them. I'm actually a fairly new fan, having only started listening to them in 2019, right before METAL GALAXY came out. When that album came out, I obsessively listened to Night Night Burn! almost every day. It was crazy.

♡ Honorable Mentions: Greek Mythology, the novels Homegoing and Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi, too many WEBTOONs to name (though currently I'm really into Get Schooled), Waterparks, DE'WAYNE, Kero Kero Bonito, MARINA, Lil Nas X, and Paramore!

○°•°○°•°○

DNF (Just remember, I firmly stand with all of my marginalized family. My love for them overrides my hatred for you 100% of the time.):

× Anti-Black/Racist/Neo-Nazi. I don't tolerate that shit here. Leave me and my blogs alone.

× TERF/SWERF. Our trans siblings and sex working siblings belong in our community. If they hadn't fought for us, we wouldn't be able to live freely now.

× Homophobes. I'm not explaining this one. Just know you shouldn't care who other people want to kiss or fuck.

× Exclusionists. Ace people, Bi/Pan/Poly/Omni/etc people, and Nonbinary/Genderqueer people do not have to explain themselves to be allowed to exist in our community. I don't care if you don't understand their identities. It's not their job to teach you.

× Transmeds/whatever the hell you people are called these days. Trans people do not need to suffer for you to consider them valid.

× Anti-Semites. Idc. Y'all's hatred of Jewish people is quite literally irrational. They haven't caused any problems for you and don't secretly control the government. Don't believe everything you read.

× Islamophobes. Again. As a whole, Muslims are not causing problems for you, and if you think that, you're too far gone.

× Pedos/MAPs/NOMAPs. It's not okay or right or normal to be an adult attracted to children. I don't give a fuck. Get away from me. Even when I ultimately do become of legal age, I still don't want you fuckers around.

× Pro-ship. Idc if it's fictional. It's weird. I personally just feel like "ship and let ship" can't and never should apply to real person, pedophilic, abusive, or incestuous ships, and that's a normal opinion to have. It doesn't "squick me out" if it's straight up illegal! It disgusts me.

× AO3 simps. I use AO3! I like the platform. Its tagging system is well-organized. However, I would not put my moral character on the line for it. It's not that deep, babes. I promise. No one's going to cleanse the internet of your Destiel smuts.

× DDLG/DDLB/MDLG/MDLB. Why does other people acting in child-like manners or dressing like children arouse you? Quickly. Prove with facts and research how that doesn't make you adjacent to being a pedo. Fuck off.

○°•°○°•°○

Finally, I hope this blog is a safe and happy space for everyone to be in! Let's have fun together~!

[gallavictorious]

I saw your tags and I think you might need to write that fic of Ian and Mickey recreating their first time when Ian gets a tire iron. 🧐☺️

Okay, so this took me a hot minute, and I did it as a kind of speedwrite so it's rather short and not exactly thought out. I also went off (my own) script a little bit and it got unexpectedly sappy there for a moment... But! Have 1,4k very silly words of Ian and Mickey roleplaying their first proper get together because Mickey gave Ian a tire iron. I hope you enjoy it, dear one – thank you so much for the prompt! I had unexpected fun with it. ❤️

(Oh, and tags in questions are the ones on this post, so all credit to @jenatte for providing the original inspiration.)’

ETA: It’s on AO3 now too.

---

Ow. The fuck?

Reluctantly, Mickey blinked awake. The bright light suggested it was already near noon, but that wasn't what had woken it, that wasn't–

It came again: a hard poke to his back. Not the good kind, either, of Ian pressing his hard-on against Mickey's rear while they were snuggled close, but something cold and sharp. Insistent.

”What the fuck?” Mickey groaned, rolling over on his side and peering up at–

–his husband standing over him with... a fucking tire iron in his hands? Not just any tire iron either, but the one Mickey had gotten him as a gift for their anniversary as a mix of a joke, sentimentality and practicality; it was how they started, sure, and meaningful for it, but also a damn good thing to have, no home was complete without it. He thought that maybe Ian had overlooked the practial aspects, though, in favour of going a little misty-eyed before he started dropping half-assed quips about hard lenghts and Mickey had to roll his eyes and punch his husband in the arm a little bit.

Now Mickey's brow furrowed further as he tried to make sense of the scene. For a brief, terrifying moment, apprehension siezed his gut: was Ian having a manic episode, seeing enemies where there was none? But no; though he feigned a fearsome scowl, there was that glitter in Ian's eyes and a small quirk to his lips that spoke little of mania and everything of being a fucking dork and a tease.

”Give me the gun, Mickey,” he intoned, and Mickey was about to ask again what the hell and what fucking gun and maybe are you feeling okay man because perhaps Mickey didn't have quite as good a read on his husband as he thought he had–

–and then he got it, memory reasserting itself, and he could feel the fucking grin growing on his face quite of its own accord. He'd have felt stupid for not immediately catching on, but give him a fucking break, he'd been sleeping two seconds ago and his days of waking up with a start and ready to fight were slowly and thankfully becoming a thing of the past.

Ian's faux frown broke, as he was unable to contain an answering smile. He seemed inordinately pleased with himself, and with Mickey for getting it. Mickey would tell him he was a fucking idiot, but Ian looked so expectant that Mickey decided to play along instead. No harm in a little weird roleplay to make his husband happy, right?

Besides, it wasn't like Ian standing over him and looking vaguely threatening and very hot didn't do it for Mickey on several levels.

”Okay, fine,” he said, climbing to his feet while doing his very best to appear drowsy and uninterested. It had been instinctive back then, the plan of lulling the irate kid into a false sense of security before pouncing on him and kicking his teeth in for having the fucking gall to march into Mickey's room and demand things.

Mickey made a show of slowly turning towards the nightstand, just as he had all those years ago. He could feel Ian's eyes track his every movement, ready to react to the sneak attack he knew was coming. There'd be no taking him by surprise this time.

His face turned away and unseen, Mickey smiled. Or would it?

He grabbed hold of the bottle of lube on the table and spun around to throw it at Ian's head, took a quick step up and to the side, and as Ian gave a short yelp and involuntary raised his hands to protect his face, Mickey rushed him from the side to push him down on the bed. Ian went with a thud and an oof and Mickey didn't hesitate; he was on his husband in a second, straddling his chest and wrestling the tire iron from him grip.

”What the hell, Mick?” Ian demanded, not bothering to struggle but glaring up at Mickey with wide reproachful eyes. ”This isn't how it went!”

Mickey grinned. ”How it went is I kicked your scrawny ass,” he said smugly. ”Now, how am I gonna do that if you know which way I'm gonna move?”

”I was going to let you win!” Ian protested.

Mickey's eyebrows rose. ”Oh, you were gonna let me, huh?”

”Yeah,” Ian said slowly, eyes narrowing, ”I was going to let you.” And with that he grabbed hold of Mickey's arms and pushed him to the side while using his greater body weight as leverage to flip them around.

”Fucker,” Mickey spat, kicking at Ian's shins. He dropped the tire iron – not like he was actually going to hit Ian with it – to have both his hands free for a renewed assault on his sneaky little shit of a husband, but Ian had already wrapped his his stupidly big hands around Mickey's wrists and was pushing him down into the mattress, grinning triumphantly while Mickey struggled and squirmed beneath him.

”Guess I had a change of heart,” Ian said.

Mickey stilled, biting at his bottom lip as he considered. He was pretty sure he could still take Ian if he really wanted to, mostly on account of him being a ruthless motherfucker with no interest whatsoever in fighting fair. However, that required a level of playing dirty and pulling nasty jabs that went far beyond what he felt comfortable doing to his husband these days.

”Uh-huh, and what's the plan now, genius?” he demanded, opting for snark instead of violence.

Ian didn't answer. The look in his eyes had shifted from triumphant to something thoughtful, and softer.

”Do you think it'd have gone the same way if it'd been me on top of you instead of the other way around back then?” he wondered aloud.

Mickey made a face. It fucking figured that his sap of a husband would turn a promising round of foreplay into a game of sentimental what-if.

”I dunno,” he said, wriggling his hips a little to remind Ian that there were otherstuff they could be doing right now, stuff way more exciting than having a goddamn conversation. ”Does it fucking matter? It didn'thappen like that, and it never would have happened like that either, 'cause back then I didn't give a shit about fucking you up too bad, so I'd bashed your fucking brains out before letting get on top of me.”

He wanted to bite his tongue as soon as he'd said it, but it was too late: Ian's eyes had lit up and his thoughtful look transformed into a smirk. ”Well, I mean,” he drawled, leaning down to put his mouth to Mickey's neck, just for a moment, just a little bit of teeth in the brief touch.

”Fuck off,” Mickey said, but he was laughing. Ian's weight pinning him down was as exciting as it was annoying, as it was grounding.

Ian just hummed. He'd straightened again and was gazing down on Mickey with a look that was so damned fond it made a small blush work its way up Mickey's neck.

”I think we'd have ended up here anyway,” Ian decided. ”Somehow.”

”Oh yeah?”

”Yeah.”

Soft smiles then, as something warm and happy bloomed in Mickey's chest. For a moment, they just looked at each other, eyes resting on the face each of them knew best, loved best.

Ian let go of Mickey's wrist to put his hand on the side of his head, fingers tangling in Mickey's hair as Ian ran a thumb over his husband's cheek. He bent down again, but this time to capture Mickey's lips in a long, lingering kiss.

”I think I was always going to have you,” Ian murmured as they broke apart, forehead pressed against forehead.

A second later he yelped in surprised outrage as Mickey took advantage of his lapse in vigilance to grab hold of his hair and yank his head sharply to the side while pushing up to get Ian off him and halfway down onto the floor. Mickey followed him with a snicker, and off they went again, tousling and laughing and absolutely heedless of any noise they might make.

[maraudersftw]

Sparks

Did you just kiss me?

And /or

There was never an us.

@constancezin​ thank you for these lovely prompts. Love you! I’m gonna go with the happier one because, have you met me? 

Read on: Ao3, FFnet

It’s the damned Slytherins that finally crack her.

Lily supposes it had to happen at some point—the bastards getting to her, that is—in all her seven years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, quickly morphing into Hogwarts School of Prejudice and Bigotry now.

She’s on her final round of patrol for the night, strolling through the dungeons beside James Potter, ex-toerag, present Head Boy, constant subject of her musings. He’s trying and failing to recount some prank he’s played on Sirius over the summer break; tears gathering at the corners of hazel eyes, wheezes of laughter breaking through every other phrase.

“And then—fuck, and then the Firewhiskey pours out—his nose, Evans, and I’m howling, of course, but—he’s just going on about how it’s—a waste of good alcohol!”

It’s a ridiculous story. It’s more ridiculous still that she’s doubling over in laughter right alongside him, finding hilarity in something she would’ve undoubtedly labeled obnoxious in her ‘James Potter The Arrogant Prat’ series just over a year ago.

Now, though—well, now Lily’s rather pathetic about how much she fancies the bloke.

When an accidental snort breaks through her laughter a second later, James loses himself in delight, eyes crinkling, body halting in the middle of the corridor to rest his hands against his knees, shoulders shaking with mirth.

Lily thinks she should be embarrassed. Instead, something sickeningly sweet is blossoming near her chest. Pathetic.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” A disgusted voice floats down from behind them. “The Mudblood finally spread her legs for you, Potter?”

The comment shouldn’t surprise her; hurled insults have long since traveled beyond just the muggle-borns in the castle, targeting anyone who so much as dares raise their voice against all this pure-blood mania. And James—well, he’s never been very low-key about anything in his entire life, strong views on inclusion and support for both magic and non-magic people included.

But even as she knows this, when her eyes travel to find the small group of Slytherins—Mulciber, Avery, Rosier, and Snape—the words still sting. Lily generally manages to brush it away, but with James beside her, with the insinuation somehow debasing her feelings for him and her character in one fell swoop, nonchalance does not come as easily as it usually does.

“Why don’t you lot fuck off? It’s past curfew, and you’ll be losing more than just the forty house points I’m deducting right now.”

“Is she saying something?” Mulciber tilts his head, “I don’t speak Mudblood.”

The other boys titter around him like trolls, and she feels anger pricking her skin. Snape resolutely looks anywhere but at her.

That’s fine, too. She doesn’t speak Death Eater either.

When James finally turns around, his face is a mask of frozen fury. “Leave.”

Lily watches as momentary hesitation flashes over their faces and feels, for some idiotic reason, really proud. It’s not like James is hers, but satisfaction and pride hum happily through every nerve, seemingly unaware of the fact.

“Or what, Potter? Gonna write to Mummy and Daddy to complain? A load of help that’ll do you since they’re dead.”

Surprisingly, she’s the one who fires the first spell, which inevitably leads to a colorful volley of shooting sparks from both sides. Lily’s certain most of what comes from the Slytherins is dark magic, knows that Snape’s definitely are, and it angers her even more that his wand is unfalteringly directed at James and James only.

She shoots a Stupefy right into Mulciber’s gut, but doesn’t take the second to bask in satisfaction as he drops to the floor before she’s shoving James aside, taking over the duel with Snape.

Across from her, the sallow-faced boy—Death Eater, now—freezes.

“What’s the matter?” she can’t help but seethe, firing spell after spell as he pulls up a shield charm, “I know you’ve got a litany of dark magic to use on Mudbloods like me, Severus. Surely, I’m a better target than James—he’s just a measly old blood traitor. I’m the real problem, the real pollutant.”

But he’s nothing if not a hypocrite, so he simply lets out a rage-filled cry that doesn’t even compare to all the anger Lily harbors. “He’s a fucking bastard! You need to fucking open your eyes—”

“Petrificus Totalus!” She yells, finding the right window in between the mad spouting to knock Snape to the floor.

“Fucking brilliant, Evans,” James gapes, moving to stand in front of her. Her heart flutters something horrid when he touches the side of her face gently. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Lily nods, doing her own assessment of his health, “you?”

“Better than alright!” James grins, “you took down three of them!”

But she didn’t. She only took down two—Mulciber and Snape.

Ice claws over her insides, and she peeks her head around James to find only three prone bodies on the floor. Avery’s missing.

The very next second, she spots him stepping out of an alcove, wand raised. There’s no time to think; Lily slams her body against James’s side, clearing the path so that Avery’s spell misses its target—James’s back—by a wide berth.

It’s a green fucking flash of light.

He was about to fucking kill James.

Lily doesn’t even recognize the feeling that pulses and overflows at the recognition. Anger like she’s never known mixes with an astonishing amount of fear until she’s hurling every ounce of magic inside her at Avery. From hexes to jinxes to advanced curses, she rains hell down on him until he’s just a mangle of green robes on the dungeon floor, skin discolored and dotted with boils and pus and Merlin knows what else.

A cold draft sends shivers running through her in the aftermath.

“Well, now his looks match his personality, at least.”

And that’s when it happens—the cracking of her. James standing there, making light of what happened, making light of the fact that he was almost killed, trying to bring her back into herself, is what does it.

Lily doesn’t even register the slap of her shoes against the stone floors as she strides forward, grabs both sides of his head, and promptly drags James’s face down to hers to kiss him. Her lips slant over his forcefully, desperately, feeling the warm softness of his skin, the way his hands scramble forward to plant themselves on her waist, pull her closer, right against his person. Her mind is abuzz with fear still—a second later, and she would have lost him. She would have lost him.

She kisses him harder, tries to push back the wetness in her eyes.

James is the first one to pull back, breathing harshly. His eyes are wide, bright, lips swollen and hair mussed deliciously. The sight makes her ache.

“Hang on. Wait,” he huffs, hands squeezing her waist. “Is this really happening?”

“What?” she smiles, palm brushing over his cheek.

“Did you just kiss me?” He asks. She laughs. “Lily. Am I dreaming?”

“I’d hope your dreams do not feature a bunch of immobile Slytherins lying on the floor while we make out, James.”

He pulls a face. “I’d forgotten about them.”

Honestly, she had as well. Her lips tingle, and she steps on her tiptoes to leave another lingering kiss on his lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

“And just leave them like this?”

There’s no hesitation. “Yes.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect.”

[kildarecoots]

i dont know a lot abt kildare, but i love your drawings of him and would love to know more abt him/ur version of him ! also some good comic recs with him in them would be appreciated if you got em :vD

hello!!!! thank u sm!!!!

my version of him is basically; if og comic kildare was rebooted and appeared in the ducktales 2017 reboot:

this image comes from the ducktales comic countdown to termination (2018). this background character isn't offically confirmed to be Kildare but after seeing this character listed as Kildare on a wiki i completely ran with it & as others have said, the resemblance seems more than intentional (eyes, beak shape, hair, the way he's drawn, even the clothing choice makes complete sense to me personally).

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i've thought about him so much that tbh its hard to like dump everything about him because its just so much lool but here r some main points i think

• Kildare is the son of Cuthbert Coot.

•During his childhood he mainly spent time with his cousin Fethry. they were really close and played all the time despite them living quite far away from each other

•in his original source he is never given any specific diagnosis despite mental illness being a central part of his initial characterisation. i interpreted this as like.......not every random needs to know yknow. it's kinda private. He has an illness that involves experiencing psychosis and irregular moods but you don't really need to know unless you're Fethry or Donald or Della or Gladstone or Gideon or one of his close people yknow? I hav my specific headcanons and u hav urs <3

•he practices natural horsemanship, loves the family ranch's horses and horses in general. He thinks they are so cute and wonderful. He hates seeing them & animals in general get mistreated. it upsets him so much. he truly has a real friendship with the horses. His favourite and most trusted horse is called Sweetheart.

•he loves making music!! music is so important to him. Him, Donald and Fethry were in a band called "Ducking Work" when they were like 18-20. he has always enjoyed writing and composing music, finding it a great outlet! he loves rock and country. he's a good drummer.

•he is Fethry's best friend and i cannot stress this enough

•never lost his southern accent

•super extroverted and loves to make friends, meet new people and explore new places.

•he is also rlly close with Della and the grief he felt after she disappeared & was presumed dead definitely contributed 2 one certain hospitalisation.

•he has always helped out as a ranch hand as expected and even when he's an adult he still helps his dad out with the ranch despite not living there anymore

•Gideon is Kildare's favourite uncle!

•He often stays with his grandma Elvira and cousin Gus and helps out there as well....even though they tell him he doesn't have to. But he literally finds it so fun. Who are they to stop him feeding every cow and learning their personalities and hauling bails of hay on his back every day.

•he is very compassionate and empathetic and is always there for his family and friends. he has been through a lot in his life and it's made him super good at comforting others and understanding people and is always ready to sprint to try & cheer his family + loved ones up. they love and appreciate Kildare so much.

•Gideon McDuck had partial "guardianship" over him. Kildare also works at Gideon's newspaper The Cricket as a reporter!

• ↑ Cuthbert wasn't able to cope with looking after Kildare alone

•a lot of the original comic content involves his family just endlessly getting annoyed with him & that's one thing i love to reverse with my version of him. Donald especially i feel would be way more understanding of Kildare and not treat him anywhere near how he's written treating him in the original comics. Donald in Dt'17 literally starts going to therapy himself. like. Kildare would probably wear Donald down a lot at times bc of his energetic nature/mania sure but he would never be ableist to him on that level ever like being ashamed to be related to him & badmouthing him to the triplets. trust me i know him personally

•he also loves cooking. and baking. he learned from the best (Elvira Coot).

↓

the best collection of kildare featured comics is here compiled by @fethrybestduck !!

[nincompoopydoo]

DEBRIS AND MISERY

TRUTH AND LIES ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.5k SUMMARY: You and Loki make a trip to the open market which leads to a flurry of thievery, arrests and an almost death. A/N: Hey hey, I guess I’m just updating this series on no porper day because I’m a bitch for procrastination wohoo! There’s so much going on in this chapter, probably a little too long but I hope you like it <3 gif from this gifset by @hiddleston-daily WARNINGS: Swearing, laser rifles, electrocution, intended execution, Loki being annoying. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

“So, what do you propose?”

Loki questions, walking beside you through the winding pathways of the outskirts of the city of Sakaar. Stalls propped up on stilts, colorful fabric hung overhead as a shield from the blazing sun of the afternoon. He’s dressed like a Sakaarian, drapery of vivid and bright colors, similar to yours—both passing through, hiding in plain sight amongst the crowd of contrasting species.

The place inevitably stinks, living up to the planet’s nature.

Yet, it’s a world of textile mania. Everywhere he looks, there’s a pop of color, radiant and brilliant. Whether it’s the clothes of the locals, the paint that adorns the structure of their faces, or the streaks of blue and red cascading down the walls of the city in the glimmer of the sun.

Your eyes seem to glow in the reflection of the sunlight; the shawl conceals the crimson scar well enough—barely recognizable in your disguise. Your gaze meets his. “Well, I propose we steal one of the Grandmaster’s ships. They're the only ones that are strong enough to enter the Anus.”

Loki flashes you a look, “You have to stop calling it the Anus.”

Your rapid steps come to halt at the foot of a stall, an extensive table with miles of crates filled with an array of vegetables and fruits. Some wiggle their way through the crowd of customers, some rigorously examining every blemish of each fruit while others attempt negotiating the prices with the distraught-looking vendor with a face of sapphire.

It’s a pastiche of a Pieter Bruegel painting. And the two of you are seemingly animate characters at the center of it.

Loki trails closely behind you—much to your dismay— shouldering a two-headed lady by accident, both heads snapping at him with blazing eyes. He mutters an apology as she quickly disappears into the crowd. He turns and nearly loses sight of you, instantly shouldering his way to stand beside your figure as you hum with amusement, brows raised. Your head tilts, eyes on him once more. “Oh, I’m sorry. Would it help if I called it the ‘giant red hole’ instead?”

He blinks. “You have somehow made it sound worse.”

You hum once more, cautiously gazing at the hectic vendor. “It’s one of my many talents.”

With a swift motion, he follows your fingers that delicately pluck one of the odd-looking blue enlarged berries from the stand, sliding it into your stash in a matter of a split second.

He’s almost impressed.

“I suppose thievery is one of your many talents.”

It’s both a question and a statement—Said in a tone of near mockery. Loki is starting to get on your nerves with the unnecessary commentary on every decision you made that led the two of you to this very moment—a routine you’ve repeated for years before his arrival. Oh and he’s well aware of the growing aggravation towards his sheer presence. It’s a feeling he’s no stranger to. It feels like home.

Your once monotony interactions are now turned into a muse for Loki’s own entertainment.

“Look, you really don’t have to announce and narrate every aspect of your silly observations like we’re in a stupid play. Especially, when I’m doing something that’s fairly frowned upon—”

“Fairly frowned upon? Really?”

A groan escapes from the scowl of your lips. You look like you’re about to kill him.

“Just shut up, for God’s sake.”

You snatch him by the wrist, forcing your way through the sea of Sakarriaans. Your grip is surprisingly firm—he scoffs, twisting his arm out of your grasp almost in a child’s manner. “Would you stop that?” he says as you lead him away from the bustling crowd, a corner where two perpendicular buildings meet. You turn to him in a somewhat exaggerated attempt to express your resentment towards him, pulling the shawl away, revealing your face as you hold your pointer finger to him like it’s a weapon. Loki instinctively staggers back in his stance. “No, you stop that!” you hiss, advancing towards him. “I told you not to mess with my shit and what you did there, that’s messing with my shit.”

Again, he finds himself caught in the act of your fury and frustration. He quickly notes that you seem to have an uncontrollable temper, and it’s unpredictable. You’re living in a constant predicament, one slight prod and you’ll burn, spontaneous combustion and you’ll burn right through everything, God or not.

You sigh, caressing your cheek. “I’m sorry, it’s just...I’ve been alone for so long and this,” You gesture between the two of you, “I never thought it’ll be possible to experience this again.”

Loki arches a beckoning brow. “Which is?”

You blink once, then twice, pursing your lips. “Company.” you punctuate it like it leaves an unpleasant taste on your tongue—you’re embarrassed to reveal a side of vulnerability. Like you have been in a constant fight to build the walls around you, to keep your guard up at all times, no matter the circumstance or cost. Whatever happened between you and the Grandmaster, destroyed the remains of your personality, your ability to feel like a human being and coping and living with the knowledge that you will never get off this planet and never return home for years. You deserve a fraction of his reverence, not sympathy.

Forced into the realm of independence with no one to cry out to. Your life oddly and eerily reflects his. He can’t help but feel that maybe it’s fate that hauled him out of the Bifrost, sending him flying into Sakaar and crashing into the very home you reside within.

His mouth runs dry for the first time because there’s nothing to say. You apologize even when you don't need to and the part of you that protrudes is your honesty—a part of you that differs from himself. You’re truthful, even to a stranger. Nevertheless, he nods.

A yell from a distance captures your attention, a man on the other end of the pathway that leads to the markets, dressed in the armor of red—a Sakaarian guard, armed with a laser rifle. The guard, unfortunately, might recognize you, with your face out in the open. Your scar makes you stand out like a sore thumb. It’s every criminal’s nightmare.

You discreetly turn your head towards the wall in a desperate attempt to hide your identity even though you very well know, there’s a significant chance it isn’t going to work. Your figure is now close to his, he can almost feel the erratic beating of your heart. You’re...afraid.

The sentry on patrol nears the two of you, expression unreadable, concealed under the mask of red strokes like warrior paint. His voice is low, authoritative. “Everything alright here?”

He must have noticed the commotion during the heat of your argument, perhaps recognizing the tone of your voice which does not help with the plan the two of you are drafting to get off this planet, or maybe, he is just genuinely concerned. The latter seems improbable by the way the guard stands, hands hovering over the trigger of the rifle.

Loki decides it would be best to negotiate and pretend everything is fine. He would much rather avoid a fight because he would hate for you to end up dying as a prisoner in the arms of the Grandmaster. Well, because you’re on his way out. Nothing more.

He turns to the sentry with his usual charming smile, palms raised to indicate he means no harm. It's an image of vulnerability. The guard seems to relax at this, fingers moving away from the trigger of his weapon although his posture remains sturdy.

He’s alone, no other guards are lurking nearby. If anything were to happen, at least it will be two against one.

How foolish.

“Everything is quite alright, kind sir. It’s just one of our...common little spats, nothing more. The missus says I don’t give her enough attention and well, you would know how that turned out—”

You nearly choke at Loki’s words. Out of all the possible reasons, he chooses a lover's spat as an excuse. An incredibly absurd and petty lover’s spat.

Now, you're his fucking missus.

The armored man is unfazed by Loki’s charm; he doesn’t seem convinced. He turns to you, gesturing to your figure with his rifle. “Show your face, ma’am.”

Loki is quick to step in. “Sir, I believe that would be rather embarrassing for her. You see, she has been crying, and it’s not a pretty sight. Red all over, bloodshot eyes—you know.”

You roll your eyes. Now, all you want to do is send your palm flying across his face. Hard.

Once more, the guard doesn’t completely believe Loki’s explanation.

Loki turns to you discretely, extending his open palm to you. He whispers lowly. “Do you trust me?”

You simply shake your head.

Nevertheless, you take his hand.

Before you know it, you’re being hurled by the arm, head first and now the two of you are in a full-out sprint, spinning, and weaving from every pedestrian. Your shawl is long gone, Loki has magically switched back to his original Asgardian outfit. The sentry tails behind the two of you, close enough to hear him speak through the telecommunication device attached to his armor. “It’s the girl—Scrapper 170!”

The two of you dive down an alley, the sentry starting to gain. Loki turns to you mid-sprint with an exasperated look. “Scrapper 170? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Now is not the time, Loki!” you groan, voice trembling with every land of your quick feet against the ground. The sentry halts and aims. A flash of purple passes you by an inch. You duck instinctively, feet stumbling and your hand leaves Loki’s. The laser beam crashes into a wall, leaving a massive hole in it. You hear a woman shriek from the other side through the hole.

You round the corner, catching the glimpse of not one but three guards running after you. You instantly spin away to see Loki just about a meter ahead. You power through, catching up to his side. The alley breaks into a clearing, leading you back to the open market that teems with the same hectic and rowdy crowd of Sakaarians. Another shot fires at the two of you; it blasts like a hand grenade—the crowd screams. Loki is shoved away from you and with a turn of your head, you completely lose sight of him. Another blast of the rifle, you duck in time as it hits the crate of fruits behind. You kamikaze down the little avenues lined with vendors and shops, careening through the labyrinth. There’s a sentry at every turn, emerging from the crowd, behind the counter, tent flaps, and crates.

Amid the chase, you halt at a dead end. Behind you, the guards are catching up. At the corner of your eye, you spot Loki on the other side of the market, a few stalls away. His eyes are wide, and you’re trying to catch your breath. You step forward, ready to make his way to him when suddenly you hear something tick by your ear, then a wave of excruciating pain burns throughout your body—muscles spasms all over, you could barely control your own body any longer. Then, complete darkness as you felt your knees give out, face hard to the ground. The last thing you heard was your scream.

-

Maybe, you are meant to live your life filled with events of deja vu—a life of full circles and time loops. Maybe, you are meant to live a life of crime with the constant disability to learn from your mistakes, having been caught on numerous occasions because as soon as your brain awakens from its weakening of electrocution torture, there’s a familiar sense of aftermath pain, the sight of colorful grand walls, the feeling your hands cuffed to a rock metal chair and the grinning smile of none other than the Grandmaster.

You are stuck in a cycle, and you’re never breaking free.

The Grandmaster calls out your name with an almost chilling enthusiasm to his tone.

“At last, we meet again, 170! I’ve missed you, you know. You, uh, you really were something, huh? Intelligent. Pretty. Brought me lots of great stuff. Like that guy—What’s his name? Oh! Ares, God of war. He was a brilliant champion. Now, look at you. All dirty, disgusting and that hideous scar, ugh—” The Grandmaster cringes, gesturing to your figure with that melt stick of his. You flinch as he nears you, deciding how much you hate that shimmering golden robe. “Though I’ll have to admit, you are good at hiding. It’s almost annoying...Do you agree, Loki?”

He turns and you follow his gaze. Loki stands by the corner, looking almost sheepish. Your eyes are now immense, face painted with hurt and betrayal albeit you don’t necessarily demonstrate it. Loki averts his gaze to the Grandmaster. “I suppose.”

The silver-haired man laughs with a wagging finger to him. “I like you, Loki. I really do.”

You cringe at his words. He turns to you, smile gone.

“Hey, now you are going to tell me—I mean, really tell me—who exactly you are and where you’re from.”

You spot the furrow of the God's brows. His voice is faint, like the time at the market, asking you to trust him. “Is she not from Earth?”

The Grandmaster seems to be taken aback by Loki’s sudden question, narrow eyes bouncing between the two of you. Then, his mouth curves into an apparent ‘o’. “Oh, I see what’s going on. Wow. You actually believed that little story of hers? That she’s from a planet called Earth and an astronaut? Oh, you poor thing,” He speaks through his chuckles, amused by Loki’s expression of bewilderment.

So much for being truthful.

“You know, I always have the intuition for liars like you. So, there was no way you could have faked it all the way through.” His attention is on you, but you’re too busy looking at your unlikely ally or you dare say your partner's unreadable manner. Blank face. Usual posture. You hope to spot a hint of sympathy or sadness in his eyes. There’s nothing.

You can’t save yourself and neither can he.

You, after all, betrayed him in terms of your unknown identity. It’s expected he wouldn’t do the same. Yet, this is Loki getting a taste of his own medicine. If it weren’t for your imminent death, you would find this situation rather amusing.

“So, are you going to tell us the truth?”

Your gaze returns to the taller man. “No.”

You’re not sure how to feel about that single word being the last word you speak.

The Grandmaster blinks then shrug coyly. “Oh well, that’s quite a pity,” he moves around, gazing at the surrounding guards, hand on his hip. “So, uh, we’re doing this, huh?”

No one in the room moves or speaks.

He sighs, extending the melt stick to you. “Yeah, okay...See ya, then!”

You shut your eyes, ready to succumb to the pain of being liquefied. You wonder if it hurts and that the past victims you have witnessed were being dramatic as they screamed for the end of their lives rather than the pain itself. In all honesty, you’re terrified although you believe you shouldn’t be. Death is inevitable, after all, and you’ve been prepared for many years, living in hiding.

This is it. This is when you finally rest.

You miss home. Wherever that is.

“Wait!”

Your eyes are wide open, they fly to Loki who has his arm stretched out, nearing the Grandmaster. The melt stick is inches away from your face. The Grandmaster spins away from you, attention directed to Loki. “Really, Loki? I was so close to having the pleasure of melting her!”

For an Elder of the Universe, he could erratically act a lot like a child. A child with an obsession with control and murder. Psychopathic child.

You observe the two enter an argument of whispers and dramatic hand movements. Then, the colorful psychopath in that hideous shimmering coat swivels in his stance, gaze at you as a heavy sigh escapes his lips. “Fine. I guess I don’t have to know who exactly you are. On behalf of Loki here who seems very keen on keeping you alive, you are pardoned,” Your mouth flies open in response. “But! I’m putting you on probation. 142 will be keeping a close eye on you. So, yeah. Lie to me again and I’ll have you executed for real.”

The Grandmaster walks away and your wrists are released from the cuffs of the chair.

Loki retains that darn smirk on that charming face of his.

-

The slave quarters seem huge from the last time you were here. In comparison to your unstable shack of a home in the outskirts of the city, anything cleaner and brighter than that shithole was enough to fulfill your heart’s desire for an ideal place of residence. It’s the same room you occupied before you fled and went into hiding. You recognize the markings on the wall, roman numerals, hidden in the corner by your bed, counting the days since you arrived on Sakaar. That was years ago, maybe a decade—you lost count.

There’s a knock on the door; it swishes open to reveal none other than Loki, dressed in a different but relatively similar outfit to his original Asgardian clothing. It’s blue instead of green. You abruptly decide you like the way it brings out the specks of blue in those irises of emerald.

You cross your arms. “So, I assume you got caught, but I want to know how the hell did you not get this thing?” You tap the obedience disk on the curve of your neck. His smile curves into a smirk. “One word: Silvertongue.”

Your snort, nearing him. “That’s two words.”

Loki simply rolls his eyes. “No, it isn’t. It’s two—it doesn’t matter.”

That deafening silence wave over the two of you. You purse your lips.

“Why did you save me back there?”

The God blinks, shoulders squaring. There’s a sudden tension in the air.

“Well,” his head tilts as he clears his throat, trying to form the right words. He wets his lips. “If someone manages to trick the God of trickery himself, maybe that someone is worth saving.”

His response startles a distinct silence from you—the silence of awe and contemplation. He says you're worthy of saving, a sentence you never thought you’ll hear from the man who crashed through your roof and proceeded to be threatened with a dagger. The man who seemed to have some sort of inclination and ambition to annoy the death out of you. It’s bizarre how life works, how two diverging lives end up intertwined with one another in the most unlikely circumstance, and how time truly heals. It mends the wounds of the lonely, the ones who were told they were never enough.

Maybe scarce and scarce turns out to be enough after all.

You see yourself in him, a complex mind and a misunderstood heart. It’s frightening how you somehow understand, and you somehow don’t simultaneously.

People are complex. Life is complex.

He watches you with that same look when he initially heard the vocals of Freddie Mercury.

You’re no Freddie Mercury, you know that.

Your voice cuts through the silence. “Thank you.”

Loki seems to snap out of what felt like forever, responding with a curt nod.

“I’ll see you at dinner then,” he says, backing away into the hallway as he readies himself to leave. “And please, wear something better than that hideous heap of trash.” He gestures to your figure; your clothes are rugged and filled with dust and sand.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“We can resume our plans to getting off this planet after that,”

With a smug look, he spins on his heel and leaves. The door closes with a whirring sound. You feel heavy.

And God, you need a drink.

You quickly locate the drinking glasses, in one of the cabinets above the kitchenette. As you rummage through the rest of the drawers and cabinets in search of a bottle of something, a soft hum from the other side of the room catches your attention.

Your figure spins and you’re met by the sight of a group of materialized armored soldiers, clad in black. You heave a profound sigh of relief, a grin curving upon your lips.

“You guys finally found me! What took y'all so long? I’ve been stuck here for ages—”

“It appears to be a standard sequence violation.” one of the armored men say with an A-50 scrawled vertically on his helmet in orange.

You furrow your brows, feeling your heart stop. “Wait, what—”

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the Scared Timeline.” Hunter A-50 speaks. There’s a wave of sympathy flashes upon his expression. “I’m sorry.”

The cup falls to the floor, shattering into serrated pieces that surround your feet. Your heart begins to pound. As the other hunters grasp onto your arms, you are hauled through the translucent glowing doorway. Then, you hear the words of A-50 that struck your heart like a dagger.

“Reset the timeline.”

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

[beevean]

Thoughts on Castlevania: Super Mario 64 edition feat. The super power of teamwork?

Portrait of Ruin is probably my second favorite Castlevania after SoTN :D

I didn’t write a long post while I was playing because, honestly? I was having too much fun to stop and puts my thougths on paper. Besides, I don’t have much to say. This game is a blast, that’s all there is to it!

I like the team mechanic between Jonathan and Charlotte. It’s not the focus of the gameplay à la Advance 3, but I like the balance between them, with Jonathan being the heavy hitter with the better equipment and Charlotte being the mage with enemy-destroying spells. I also liked most of the puzzles involving them, it really felt like the two were working together every step of the way. Jonathan and Charlotte can stop an incoming train with the Super Power of Teamwork! (the motorcycle one is a bit silly though)

The design of the castle is great. The only nitpick I have is that sometimes rooms are repeated, which I assume it’s a way to save some memory, and the recycling of SOTN assets is also very obvious. On the other hand, the place is enormous if you count the many portraits leading to different areas - and that’s a great way to create new environments! Did we ever see a desert in a Castlevania before? Let alone in a post-SOTN Castlevania? Also, the navigation was excellent, the portals are smartly placed, I never felt like I had to backtrack too much to explore previous areas. Very well designed!

(except for the circus portraits and their circular, labyrinthine designs. Cool concept, but a pain to navigate)

The difficulty is also very balanced and scales smoothly. I never felt that I had an unreasonable hard time, nor that I reached a point where I could humiliate the game. The bosses were also a fair challenge, with only Brauner and Dracula & Death giving me a hard time - by the way, love how a game with the Power of Teamwork also features it for the final boss lmao. But speaking of bosses...

I didn’t like the way you unlock the good ending, or to be more precise new more portraits to explore that are almost the “dark” version of older portraits: 13th Street to City of Haze, Forgotten City to Sandy Grave, Burnt Paradise to Nation of Fools, and Dark Academy to Forest of Doom. I don’t mind this, it’s a much better idea than the flipped castle in SOTN, and I like that superficially they’re mirrored (you go from right to left, and in Burnt Paradise’s case, from top to bottom). It’s like Encore Mode from Sonic Mania, but better! But to get there, you have to:

find the Sanctuary spell, for which you need the Toad Morph spell - it’s in a very annoying room in the Sandy Grave portrait. Fine, the room is memorable enough that you’d want to check it out. This is not the bad part.

heal Stella and Loretta with the Sanctuary spell instead of killing them. Now this, this is very annoying. Charlotte has to stay still and protected for about 30 seconds straight, while the two vampires unleash some wide, powerful attacks. I tried so many times to use the Stay option, so that Charlotte wouldn’t follow Jonathan around and get distracted... and this is how I discovered that Charlotte still respawns near you if you leave her off screen :^) basically it became a game of hoping that Stella and Loretta wouldn’t be too mean towards her. Oh, and on top of all of this, if Charlotte is too far away from the vampires? The spell doesn’t work. She has to be close to them, while they’re trying their best to attack her and interrupt her spell. Fun.

Thankfully, as a prize for this annoying battle, you get the chance of unlocking the real Vampire Killer! You have to fight the memory of Richter, and boy does he kick your ass. But thankfully, you can retry as many times as you want, his AI is fun to exploit, the prize is so worth it, and you even get a bangin’ rendition of his theme! (I don’t know why the game insists that using it is harmful, though)

Speaking of which: presentation :)

I really like the 3D effects in this 2006 DS games. I don’t think they’ve aged badly. Tricks like the rotating house or the rotating sphinx are really cool and they remind me of the gorgeous 3D chapel in SOTN. The backgrounds are excellent as usual, and the environments have tons of little details - for example, when you land on a platform in City of Haze, bread falls off. And what about the rain in Dark Academy? Gorgeous stuff.

And the music? God. Who had the galaxy brained idea of putting Michiru Yamane and Yuzo Koshiro in the same room? I want to shake their hand and give them all my money. Invitation from a Crazed Moon is super upbeat, thank you Koshiro-san. I’ve had Hail from the Past dancing in my head for days. Gears go Awry can compete with Clockwork from C3 as the best clock tower theme. Gaze Up at the Darkness hypes you up for the final showdown... or is it? Dance of Sadness is what it says on the tin, perfect for figthing two innocent sisters. Crucifix Held Close is perfect for the gloomy mood of the Dark Academy. Destroyer and Piercing Silence are tense, menacing yet catchy boss themes. Banquet of Madness is as hype as the battle itself. Also Iron Blue Intention is back and I want to kiss it <3 I love Bloodlines’ OST so much, but at this point I’m afraid its silver medal has been snatched.

As for the plot, it’s your typical Castlevania stuff, but this one is a direct sequel to Bloodlines. The reveal that Wind was Eric Lecarde all along got me (even though he doesn’t resemble his Bloodlines self at all lmao), even more as I loved playing as him. And poor Stella and Loretta, victims of a vampire who just wanted to have a family... As for the protagonists, Jonathan and Charlotte, they're enjoyable enough, although the silly anime style didn't suit them very well. I did feel bad for Jonathan and his resentment against his father John though.

I don’t know what else to add. I hope I made clear how much I had fun with this game :D