#one’s pretty good at singing and the other is so-so

[writing-mlm]

I think I’ll stay here, just for a second

Summary: Ekko can come to enjoy this Pairing: Ekko x gender neutral reader wc: 700 a/n: SPOILERS FOR ARC 3 OF ARCANEE, i wrote this while watching ep 7

This was wrong. All of this was wrong. Jinx… Powder— whoever she was in this timeline was good, Vander, Milo, Claggor, and— God— Benzo were alive but Vi was dead and… you. Holy shit, you’re alive, too. You’re alive and just how he remembers you. 

He touches your face as he remembers your death, how you died after being taken in by Silko with Powder. How your death was nothing but another day for Zaun, another Undercity kid who got what they deserved from an enforcer. He remembers how he held your body, there’s been so much blood. He didn’t recognize your face, it haunted his dreams for years. It still does, if he’s being honest. 

But now here you were; able to grow up. You still lived with your brother; he didn’t die after he tried to get you back from Silko. He became the chef he always wanted to be and you… his eyes swim in yours as you smile, pressing your face deeper into his hand. 

“You must’ve hit your head pretty hard, huh.” You tease. 

He’d quite literally bumped into you after rushing out from the bar, stumbling into everything, and knocking things over. He looked at you like he saw a ghost and for a moment you swear you saw tears swimming in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” He nods, collecting himself. “Yeah, I did.” His hand drops from your face and you quickly scoop it up, dragging him in another direction before he has the chance to realize. 

“Where’re we going?” His feet stumble forward before he catches himself and keeps pace with you. You look back at him, winking before pressing a finger to your lips. “Okay,” He laughs this light and airy laugh, letting himself believe, even if it’s just for a moment, that you’re alive. That Jinx isn’t Jinx. That Benzo is alive. That this is where he’s meant to be. 

You take him to a spot he’s all too familiar with; a spot you’d created when you were kids tucked inside an empty sewer pipe. Only now it’s grown and the pipe is the entrance. He holds the top as he struggles to keep up, clearly, this was second nature to you. It must’ve been second nature to this timeline Ekko’s too because it quickly grows easier. 

Coming out on the other side, he finds a large room. It’s messy, with drawings and objects haphazardly arranged; lights adorning the ceilings and walls, and couch cushions pushed to the corner. 

He stumbles inside while you toss two cushions into empty spots, waiting for him to join you. 

“C’mon, cupcake. Take a seat, we have a couple of hours before Powder comes and finds us.”

“She— she knows about this place?” His eyebrows pinch, worry overtaking him. The last time she found out about it, she blew it up. He remembers holding the scarps of the cushions, the singed papers that burnt away with the second round of bombs. 

“Well, yeah,” You laugh. “She’s the one who gave us the extra materials. You need to rest, c’m’here.” Patting the seat, he glances around, eyes scanning for bombs because that’s second nature at this point. He only finds his sketches and your hobbies lying around. It’s still your safe haven. 

He settles into the brown seat, your hand wrapping around his shoulder almost immediately and pushing his head onto your shoulder. 

“You still have that headache, Ko?” His eyes close as your nails trail up his fade, the small hairs dancing across your fingers. It feels good, his shoulders relax a bit and he nods, his nose nuzzling into your neck as he sighs. Even here you still smell the same. “I’ll dim the lights for you.” Your free hand reaches up above you, finding the handle that turns the light off and you turn it. He hears it crank twice as the lights lower. 

“Thank you,” He whispers. Your hand trails higher, catching on his hair tie before you pull it off. The white hair falls, sliding off of his head and dangling around his ears. He feels them moving but more so, he feels how you message his temple before lying down, taking him with you. On the way down, he feels your lips against his and he opens his eyes, his chest rising and falling like he’s just run a marathon. 

He stares at you, his chin resting on your sternum while you smile down at him. 

“You seem shocked.” You hum, still rubbing his head. 

“I’m just… I had a really vivid dream. I guess I forgot about this… us,” Again, his eyebrows pinch and you smile, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

“I’ll be happy to talk about us to you.” You offer. “We’re my favorite story.” 

“Yeah,” He nods. “Mine too.”

[omniuravity]

Helluverse During Rut/Mating Season Headcanons

Tags: @bloodypeachblog , @hazelfoureyes , @pinkhimecat , @je-suis-eternel-jennie, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

TW: Sex (obviously), animalistic behavior, way too much research, creature cocks (kind of), mention of pregnancy

Thank you guys for the overwhelming positivity from the last one! Here's another one!

Angel Dust:

Angel doesn't really talk about mating season much, unless it's for his films. Val, of course, finds it sexy and makes Angel work anyway.

Like most male spiders, Angel tends to mate with multiple partners during mating season unless he's in a relationship.

Angel loves dancing with you during this time of year. He finds it brings himself closer to you.

Angel tries to make sure you don't feel pressured to have sex with him during his mating season. He wants you to feel comfortable and loved.

Angel is pretty submissive in bed despite him being the one wanting to mate with you, though expect him to want it a bit more rough.

"Come on, baby. I'll be gentle at first, then we can get to the kinky stuff~"

Adam:

An angel's rut or heat isn't nearly as intense as a demon's, unless you're as sexual as Adam.

Adam is normally very possessive, but he gets extra possessive of you when it's mating season. Another man can't even look at you without him blowing up.

Adam likes to help make a little nest for the two of you. Adam also likes to bring you shiny things for the nest.

Adam likes to play his guitar for you as a way to remind you how much he loves you.

Adam is normally pretty rough in bed, while he's rutting it's so much harder and deeper.

"Chill out, I'm gonna take really good care of you, babe~"

Blitzø:

Blitzø's heat is pretty intense. If he somehow has a partner you are not leaving his apartment.

He tries to cook for you, but unfortunately isn't very good. He always insists on cooking for you since he does most of the work in bed (or so he says).

Surprisingly, enough he does enjoy those gentle moments after sex with you. He'll never admit it though.

Speaking of gentle moments, he loves to cuddle. He will cuddle you like a teddy bear. If he starts to cry gently rub his back and hold him.

Blitzø is a VERY kinky motherfucker. He's open to trying every kink once. Any kink you can think of, he's tried it. Yep, even that one.

"Get down, it's time for some quality time with daddy~"

Stolas:

Stolas' rut is very different than most Goetias. He doesn't get as violent as other bird-like demons, but he's still very defensive of his partner.

He brings you all the shiny things for the nest you two share. He also doesn't mind being presented with shiny things.

Speaking of the nest, it consists of blankets, the shiny things, and his feathers.

He also enjoys cooking for you. He is much better than Blitzø, of course.

He's going to bottom. There is no question about it. He's also really loud when the two of you have sex

"I want to take this slow for you. I love you and want you to feel as loved as I do."

Verosika:

Verosika's heat is very intense due to her being a succubus. Though she doesn't let that change her demeanor in the bedroom.

She does have to stop performing for the public while she deals with her heat.

Even though she doesn't perform in public during her heat, she does sing for you.

She loves leaving marks on your body. Scratch marks, kisses, and bite marks will litter your body for days.

Verosika always tops, period. She takes good care of her submissives, though.

"You're so pretty, well not as pretty as me, but I'm still gonna take care of you, baby~"

[theoldsports]

| Irish Coffee |

summary: twenty four was the wrong age for everything, except maybe picking up girls in bars at the holidays. Rafe Cameron x Reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: bars, alcohol, passing mention of sexual assault, death of a parent mention.

Rafe Cameron hated karaoke. It was shitty ego-stroking from typically the very intoxicated or the very tone deaf. He didn’t think anyone ever felt good about their performances on that rinkydink stage anyway. It was unpleasant for everyone involved. Truth be told, Rafe thought karaoke was pointless entirely. If he wanted to hear a good version of a song, he would go on Spotify and find one. He thought karaoke was a selfish sport made fun only for the singer, and never for the listener.

In summation, it was fucking stupid.

When he got in Topper’s Jeep, Rafe had been too tipsy to fully comprehend that it was karaoke night at the Swordfish. Now, with another tumbler of b-list bourbon between Rafe’s knuckles, he moped on a stool at the bar.

He felt old when he went out with Kelce, Topper and their other friends. He had started college while some of the other boys he’d grown up with were in their junior year of high school. Rafe didn’t have friends. He wasn’t good at keeping them and didn’t like it when they complained about their problems that weren’t even really problems. The persona he had crafted for dealing with friends, though, had gotten elaborate enough to where Rafe thought they didn’t notice that his heart wasn’t in it.

He didn’t have friends, he had the people he drank with. That was better than drinking alone.

Being twenty-four sucked. Too old for ragers, too young for drinks at the country club. Too many big problems to solve, but everyone thinking he was too young to solve him. Rafe wondered, if he drank enough, could he blackout the whole of his twenties and then he wake up in his thirties locked and loaded?

Some drunk whore was finishing up a song Rafe had only heard in Sofia’s car. She’d played it often. He didn’t know what it was called. It was by one of those superstar white girls with the zillion dollar concert tickets. Rafe didn’t like it. He didn’t like Sofia either anymore. He didn’t like to think about her anymore.

His heartbeat raced. His could feel it beat in his neck when he drank too much. It didn’t used to be that way. The human body couldn’t fail from misuse before thirty, could it? Rafe took a sharp inhale through his nose to push the frantic thoughts away. Everyone leaves eventually, he reminded himself; a mantra. Fuck, he wanted a cigarette.

Topper was on Ruthie leaning up on the wall near a booth. They were out of commission til she got pissy at him for breathing wrong, or something, and they all had to make excuses to leave. Normal Friday night.

Rafe wished he’d stayed home.

A DJ mumbled that the next person was taking the stage, singing Hard Candy Christmas by Dolly Parton. Arguably, this was Rafe’s favorite Christmas song because it had been his mother’s favorite Christmas song.

It was also the week before Thanksgiving and Rafe didn’t think he could stomach Christmas yet.

“Shit…” Rafe muttered into his glass of bourbon.

The girl supposed to sing was being pushed up into the tiny stage by a group of drunk girls. Presumably a bachelorette party by the looks of it. The girl onstage had a frown of surprise on her lips. It was clear to Rafe that she didn’t know this was going to happen. A girl in her party, wearing a veil headband, called out: “Please! This is our song. Please do it for me? You sound so pretty, [Y/N].”

All of her friends were calling and chanting for her to sing. The girl, [Y/N], looked embarrassed. She was very put on the spot.

Eventually, with all the cheering, pleading and encouragement, [Y/N] walked to the center of the stage where the microphone stood.

“Forgive me if this is dogshit, my friends signed me up,” The girl said over the karaoke track’s intro. A few of the girls she was with cheered. “I didn’t come to butcher Dolly in front of y’all.”

This yielded a chuckle from her audience. Rafe rolled his eyes. He was less interested in her humble act, and more interested in where he knew from. Rafe knew a lot of people, and he was starting to cling to the barstool to do what his legs were struggling to do. [Y/N] was a common enough name, but this girl looked so fucking familiar to him. His drunk mind leafed through the catalog of women in his brain. [Y/N], [Y/N], [Y/N], where did he know her from?

Her clothes weren’t anything special. Standard bachelorette party fare. A little too short, but not quite slutty. She was a bridesmaid, maybe the maid of honor. Rafe wrinkled his nose in thought. His contacts stung dry against his eyes. He had stared at a screen too long in the office and now he was sitting under a vent in November. Who the hell left the A/C on in November?

[Y/N]. Rafe hadn’t hooked up with her before. He didn’t think he had, anyway. She didn’t appear to have botox in her face or filler in her top lip with the way she expressed so freely. That meant she couldn’t have been the kid of one of his dad’s business contacts.

He looked at her friends for clues. Immediately, Rafe recognized the bride. Wendy. Rafe had hooked up with Wendy a few times in high school. He was surprised to see she was still on the island; Wendy had been smarter than that. So Rafe probably knew [Y/N] from school, then. What classes had they shared? He tried to place her.

[Y/N] was working through the slow first verse. She didn’t have a perfect, trained voice. Her voice was the kind of voice that sang in the kitchen on Saturday mornings to the radio. A smirk pulled at Rafe’s lip. She wasn’t forcing it, and she wasn’t so drunk that it was pathetic to listen to. “I hate singing in front of people…” she said.

[Y/N] knelt and set down what appeared to be an Irish coffee, and put her left hand over eyes. No ring, Rafe thought. He almost puked at the thought that looking at babes in bars now came with seeing if they were married or engaged, before giving them the once over. Being twenty-four sucked. The girl swayed from side to side on her feet as she moved from the second half of the first verse to the chorus.

…Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine.

Me, I'll be just fine and dandy.

Lord, it's like a hard candy Christmas.

I'm barely getting through tomorrow,

But still I won't let sorrow bring me way down…

The girl took some liberties with how she improvised the line endings or creating a harmony line instead of the melody during the way too repetitive chorus. It wasn’t like she was doing something revolutionary, but she also wasn’t just up there doing a cheesy impression of Dolly.

It was a welcome change of pace from the guy’s attempt at some Jimmy Buffet number a few songs ago. Rafe loved music. He loved it. That’s part of why karaoke was such an affront. Rafe played the piano; he was okay. His mom had put him in lessons right after kindergarten and it was the only thing he had stuck with until the end of high school. That was how he honored her memory.

Wait, kindergarten.

[Y/N] sat next to Rafe in kindergarten and early elementary. Holy fucking shit.

Rafe was a walking ad for Ritalin until he was about ten. Arguably, after that too. No one ever helped him out. He was also spoiled, he knew that. The kid talked out of turn, couldn’t follow the classroom expectations, never sat still, and ended up with his green light getting downgraded to a yellow light by the end of everyday. The tantrums he would throw over it where earthshaking. It was exhausting. [Y/N] sat next to him because she was not disruptive. Miss Lisa, their kindergarten teacher had loved [Y/N]. She loved her not only because she was good kid, but because she talked back to Rafe. [Y/N] used her position as calm-girl-forced-to-sit-next-to-shitty-boy to her advantage. She tattled on him daily. Debatably, that made his behavior worse, but the pair had fun sometimes. Rafe hadn’t thought about her in years.

[Y/N] wrapped up the song, trilling fine and dandy… I’ll be fine… over and over with the tinny backing track. He wished she could sing this song along with a guitar the way she deserved. Unexpectedly, Rafe found his hands applauding and his glass on the counter.

Quick as a flash, Rafe stood on unsteady feet and rushed towards the stage. [Y/N] rounded up her Irish coffee and pivoted towards her friends that clapped delightedly at her. Her hands were peeled away from her face now. Rafe almost smiled. Almost.

“Hey ladies, can I steal [Y/N] here for a second?” Rafe hollered over the music as he slumped towards their party.

Wendy’s eyes lit up in immediate recognition. “Rafe Cameron…”

“Hi Wendy,” Rafe said effortlessly. “Congratulations, by the way. You look great.” Rafe’s hookups were getting married now, and he was going to wake up tomorrow single and hungover.

“Thank you, hon. You look pretty good yourself… Please take her. Buy her another drink before we go. We need her loosened up a little.” Wendy giggled.

“Hey!” [Y/N] protested. She was eying Rafe uncertainly. She was trying to place him the same way that he had her.

“Please, ladies, next round on my tab. Congrats, seriously, Wendy,” Rafe said with a sleazy, false grin as a few of the women cheered. “I’ll bring [Y/N] back in one piece.” Gently, Rafe placed a hand on her elbow and angled her away towards the bar. The two walked in relative quiet.

All [Y/N]’s friends giggled. Rafe’s force dimples dropped when they were out of the ladies’ eyeline.

“Excuse me,” [Y/N] started. “Not tryin’ to be rude. Have we… Do I know you? I didn’t catch your name and…” She asked, staring intensely at Rafe. “Is this a setup, because Wendy’s always trying to—“

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Rafe cut in, stopping. He was drunk and forgot his manners. Great impression. Rafe cleared his throat and tried not to slur. “Rafe Cameron. You probably don’t remember me… I… You’re [Y/N] [L/N], yeah? You sat beside me in, like, fucking kindergarten and stuff.”

[Y/N] eyes widened in recognition. “Oh my god!” She gasped. “Rafe! How are you? Oh my god, you’re so tall!” [Y/N] laughed happily. Her faced buzzed warmly from the alcohol.

Rafe nodded at her amused comment. “Yeah, I’ve been busy since I was, y’know, nine.” He snorted.

“You transferred, right?”

“Yeah, Saint Mary’s.” Rafe replied. His mother’s trust had paid for catholic school after she died. He transferred out around the time he was ten.

“I can’t believe we never crossed paths again. You know Wendy from Saint Mary’s then?”

“Yep, that’s right,” Rafe paused. “Come on, lemme get you another drink. You’re the reason I didn’t fail first grade.”

[Y/N] smirked. “That’s probably true. You were an awful student.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rafe smirked. “Way to treat a guy buying you a drink,” he started his walk towards the bar, prompting [Y/N] to follow him. “You got Bailey’s or Jameson in that thing?”

The girl looked down into her nearly empty mug. “Jameson.”

“Smart girl.“ Rafe said easily. [Y/N] blushed. Even drunk, Rafe didn’t miss that expression on her face at those words. Almost too easy.

“Well, if you’re paying then tell the man to make it a double Irish too.”

“Very smart girl. I like the way you think.”

[Y/N] easily followed Rafe to the bar. The man’s broad shoulders slumped drunkenly as he cut through the crowd. When one was as large, imposing and beautiful as Rafe Cameron, crowds parted like the Red Sea. “So, uh, how are you? Did you do the whole college thing, or…?” [Y/N] asked broadly. She next to nothing about him. He wasn’t even the kind of childhood friend to get added on Instagram.

College. That was the default question at their age. Rafe hated this question, but he couldn’t let [Y/N] feel rejected for that question. “I mean, yeah. For a while. I was at Wofford for a year, but I never finished. I like what I do now, though.”

[Y/N] nodded. “And what exactly do you do?”

“Real estate development. I took over for my dad l when he passed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, we get by,” Rafe turned to the bartender, waving a hand for his attention. “Another Maker’s Mark, neat, and a coffee with double Jameson. Put the anything else the bachelorette party orders on my tab.” Rafe said. He certainly didn’t need another drink, but he really liked having something to do with his hands. Rafe would probably have less substance abuse-related issues if he knew how to conduct his body in public in some way that wasn’t a poor impression of his father.

“Very good, Mr. Cameron.”

[Y/N] narrowed her eyes at Rafe. “Big spender… You that much of a regular that they know your name at the bar?” In her world, guys [Y/N]’s age didn’t get called ‘Mr.’ anything anywhere by anyone. The guys she knew still drank shitty PBRs in punk clubs and had girlfriends they had nothing in common with. Rafe’s polish and pedigree didn’t rub off even in such a state of intoxication.

Rafe didn’t have a good excuse. The implication of [Y/N]’s statement was accurate. “Sure,” he replied. He moved through the rest of his sentence like a gunshot to prevent an awkward conversation. “Hey, why’d you pick Hard Candy Christmas?”

“I didn’t pick it. Wendy did.”

Rafe nodded slowly. “Right. Why did she pick it for you, then?”

“Because it’s my favorite Christmas song.”

“It’s my favorite. It’s probably half of the Smoky Mountains’ favorite too. But why?”

“I didn’t realize this was hardball—“

“Please... I asked you a question about Dolly Parton. You sounded good.” Rafe responded. His drink was passed over the counter. He held it close to his chest and leaned his right elbow down to press it into the bar.

“Um, thanks. It’s… I had shitty couple years. I sang that song everyday for months at a time, I think. Wendy and I would go for these drives with the top down and just… Belt that shit out. Makes the bad days better.”

Rafe half-smiled. “So, year-round?” He said accusingly.

“The song? Like, not at Christmas?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, yeah. She says it’s like a Hard Candy Christmas, not that it is one. That’s grounds for year-round. It’s so much more than a Christmas song.” [Y/N] bit back with a smirk. The bartender returned and placed another white coffee cup and saucer in front of [Y/N] with a nod. The girl slurped a sip down without cream or sugar. She barely made a pinched expression at what was obviously a strong drink. Rafe was moderately impressed. He liked that [Y/N] was drinking brown liquor in black coffee this late on a Friday while all of her friends held White Claws and Daiquiris,

“My head hurts. This is the opposite of the Die Hard’s a Christmas movie thing.” Rafe jabbed.

“Anything can be a Christmas movie.”

“Then, so can a song.”

[Y/N] paused. “Damn.” she sighed. She wasn’t sober enough to get her arguments straight.

Rafe didn’t want to conversation to end. [Y/N] was the most intelligent person he’d spoken to all day. It wasn’t saying much, but was noticeable. He asked another question. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie, if you think that’s true?”

“American Psycho.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? That’s not a—“

“Rewatch it. Not having this argument,” [Y/N] chided. The girl glanced over her shoulder at her friends. They were all staring at her and pretending they weren’t. “Listen Rafe, I appreciate the drink. It was really great to see you tonight. I gotta head back to Wendy now. Bachelorette party only happens once. If you’re lucky… But, hey, thank you again—“

“Ask me.”

“Ask you what?” [Y/N] asked. She had no idea where Rafe was taking this. Rafe pushed up the left sleeve of his brown sweater.

“What my favorite Christmas movie is.”

[Y/N] looked at him funny. “What’s your favorite Christmas movie?”

“Eyes Wide Shut.” Rafe replied coyly.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” [Y/N] smiled fully, finally. Rafe damn near smiled back. She took a small step away, gesturing to where her friends stood.

“Can I give you my card? Maybe we catch up sometime.” Rafe asked plainly.

“Yeah, maybe!”

Rafe pulled his business card out of his wallet and extended it to [Y/N]. She looked down at it, cheekily saying: “Let’s see Paul Allen’s business card…” her eyes widened at the writing on the card. “CEO? Of a development company? THE development company on the island.”

“I told you I took over my dad’s business.”

“Rafe, I… I’m barely a grant writer at a 501-c3. How are you a CEO… You’re… twenty-three?”

“Twenty-four two weeks ago.”

“Happy birthday,” [Y/N] said flatly. “What’s happening? Why are you talking to me?”

“Because you helped me pass first grade. I thought I already said that.” Rafe’s eyes never left hers. They were so blue. Too blue. Too blue to be real. Rich people were too pretty.

[Y/N] took a very long sip of her coffee. “That’s wild. I’m sorry, but that’s wild. You made me feel vastly inferior and I’m the friend with my shit the most together.” [Y/N] told Rafe, with a smile on her face.

“I know you gotta get back. I’m not gonna the asshole that kept the girls waiting, but call me. Listen, you’re pretty, so is your voice. We should catch up.” Rafe said. Was he asking her out? That was weird. That was weird, right?

Hesitantly, [Y/N] looked back at her friends again. They were too invested in her conversation with Rafe. Hopefully, they would all drink so much that they forgot it happened.

“Do you like karaoke, Rafe?” [Y/N] changed the subject.

“I hate it.” He replied instantly.

“Why are you here?”

Rafe gestured with his glass to where Topper and Ruthie were making out. “They gave me a ride. And you don’t seem too keen about it either.” He said with a shrug.

[Y/N] couldn’t figure out what Rafe’s game was. He had turned from an unsettling child to a freakish adult. He was blunt and brisk, and either frustratingly honest or an alarmingly good liar. Maybe both. She stared up at him.

“What?”

“What?” Rafe raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m gonna go. It was good to see you. Thanks for the drinks,” [Y/N] took a step back. She started to walk away slightly, still facing Rafe. A looked of what could be interrupted as self-loathing crossed Rafe’s face. He didn’t bullshit enough with her during the conversation to be perceived as likable, and she was leaving. Of course. Nobody liked Rafe when they actually knew Rafe. [Y/N] stopped, thinking. “Rafe?”

“Yeah?” His eyes slid back to her.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Maybe?”

He was going to say no, but it would serve as a litmus test for what kind of man Rafe was. It would help [Y/N] sleep easier to know what kind of bullet she dodged by losing Rafe’s business card after tonight. “Okay, we have a scavenger hunt thing for the party. It’s stupid. One of those… Do X number of shots, get someone to give you a BLANK, take a picture of three of you doing… whatever. Y’know?”

“Sure, yeah. What are you asking?”

“One of the items on the list is Maid of Honor and a stranger accomplish a task she’ll regret tomorrow. Like I said, it’s a trashy fuckin’ list.”

“Are you asking me to hookup with you, or…”

“Worse. Do you know the song Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by—“

“Absolutely not—“

“Let me finish. I said do you know the song Don’t Go—“

“I don’t do karaoke.” Rafe said forcefully.

“Do you want to go out on a date with me, or not?”

Rafe was stunned silent. His mind worked overtime. He suddenly felt extremely sober, in spite of his drunkenness. He sucked his teeth.

“I don’t do Elton John. Sorry.” He muttered finally.

[Y/N] nodded, knowingly. It was a setup anyway. She couldn’t be disappointed. She knew he’d refuse and she could leave knowing she had made the right choice ditching him. “That’s a’right. Maybe some other—“

“But, if you really want me to do this, let’s at least stick to the Christmas thing you’ve got going here.”

“You don’t look very… holly jolly.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” he deadpanned. Rafe was the strangest combination. “Stop givin’ me grief here. Your favorite Christmas movie is American Psycho. Let’s do Baby, It’s Cold Outside—“

“Whoa, waaaay too rapey.” [Y/N] protested.

“American. Psycho. How is that song—“

“Wait, do you know Fa—“

“Fairytale of New York?” Rafe finished.

“You know it?”

“My family’s Irish Catholic.”

They both stood still and looked at each other. Well, Rafe stood as still as he could, but swayed a little on his feet. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Why was he agreeing to this?

For as manipulative as Rafe Cameron could be, he was effortless to play for validation and a pretty pair of eyes looking back at him.

Everyone leaves eventually, Rafe reminded himself. His mouth and his brain were not in agreement. Rafe had lost control of his body as he blindly followed [Y/N] to sign up for the next karaoke slot.

They passed Topper and Rafe held onto his glass like an anchor. He should have switched to beer. Why did he have another bourbon? Topper pulled his face away from Ruthie long enough to look at Rafe as if to say what the fuck are you doing? without any words. Rafe grimaced at Topper, barring his teeth slightly in response.

Rafe leaned in to [Y/N]’s ear and clumsily pushed her hair back. “I’m not a singer… This isn’t gonna be good.” He whispered. Chills crept up [Y/N]’s spine at the sensation of his breath. He knew his way around rhythm and music theory. Rafe was an asshole about music, actually. Jazz, classical, whatever. It was his secret no one else got to have. It’s not his fault that most of the motherfuckers he hung out with only listened to guys with the word ‘yung’ in front of their names. Still, all of that musicality couldn’t make him a singer.

“It’s karaoke.” [Y/N] said like it was obvious. She dragged Rafe towards the stage. “You’re so serious… Stop frowning; you’re gonna get lines on your face. We’re both gonna suck. I wouldn’t make you do this if it wasn’t for Wendy anyway. Promise.”

“This is so dumb; this better be some fucking date…”

[Y/N] pried, with difficulty, the rocks glass out of Rafe’s fingers and set it with her mug on a tabletop by the stage. As she pulled him up to a microphone, she said: “You know the words. Sing the damn song.”

And as the track started to play, and [Y/N] stupid friends all cheered, Rafe slurred the words he knew from every drunken family Christmas party he’d ever had. And he smiled. Just a little.

[apricot-blossomss]

Mm what about a date night with the gods/goddesses? (you can choose whoever you’d like to write this for, but I’d love for it to include hermes! if you do decide to write this tysm in advance <3)

☛ date night with the gods [apollo, hermes, ares, dionysus x reader]

☛ sfw; I'm pretty busy right now, so until I have the time for oneshots, something shorter...

APOLLO takes you to a concert

There were few things Apollo loved more than impressing you with his skills. Boasting with his prophetic abilities, winking at you when fixing up injuries, but most of all singing to you the songs he composed in honor of you. The only downside to that was that he couldn't really have you like this when he did: flush against him, your impossibly soft lips on his, both drunk on each other and the music filling your ears.

When he found out you had a favorite artist after him, his first instinct was to call for a contest of skill, but the guy did have talent that was put to good use right now: you were delighted to be at the concert and he could kiss you stupid between singing people and dancing bodies. You had fantastic taste in music, he had to admit the singer was truly an artist, even though he of course didn't even come close to his level.

Your hips mimicked his movement, moving subconsciously with the rhythm. In need of air, you broke from the kiss -you mortals were all so bound by nature- looking up at him with those starry eyes of yours. His gaze wandered from your stunningly beautiful eyes down to your kiss-bitten lips and he grinned at you, nudging your nose with his and prompting you to meet his lips once more. Apollo had unshakable confidence, but it didn't hurt to remind you of how amazing he was when the artist started playing one of your favorite songs of his discography.

After a few second, you broke away from the gentle kisses once more, but not to breathe. You leaned closer to him and started to sing along to the music, right next to his ear. His initial mild annoyance at you singing another artist's song quickly faded, because you were singing just for him. You were always very adamant to avoid singing in his presence because you were insecure, but now you were singing and Apollo could have dropped to his knees for you right there on the dance floor.

Instead, he leaned closer to you, engulfed you in his arms and started singing along as well, quietly, close to your ear. A light shudder ran over your body and your voice quivered a little, making him smile. Softly swaying, singing to each other in your own little bubble, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of an electrocuted crowd and the vibrations of a deep bass, his world shrank down. From the limitless perception of a god down to just you and him, just this moment, frozen in time, forever.

HERMES runs through new york with you

"Stop!" you had to cry out, stumbling to a halt as Hermes' arm sneaked around your waist to stabilize you against him. Pressing a hand into your side, you gasped for air, completely out of breath. Your godly companion broke out into a hazy giggle when you panted against him and earned a playfully upset stare. "I'm not as fast as you, Hermes."

"Sorry, baby," the god smiled sheepishly, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet. You waved it off and kneeled down on the ground, completely drained. When Hermes had proposed to take you out on a date night, you hadn't imagined speeding through New York with him, slipping in and out of the never ending shadows of the skyscrapers, faces lit up in a rainbow of the colors of the colorful blinking shop signs.

"Noo, don't give up now, baby," Hermes cooed, pulling you to your feet and ignoring your weak protests. His eyes were gleaming with excitement- and a hint of madness. "We're almost there."

"We're going somewhere?" you asked weakly and a wide, boyish grin spread across his features. "Of course! Up there." And he pointed at the top of the tall office building you had paused at. Your jaw fell slack. "You're kidding."

He wasn't.

Moments later, he was lifting you up by the waist; five, ten, twenty feet off the ground and even higher up. One look at the disappearing ground had your stomach churn, so you opted for burying your face in Hermes' chest. A soft peck on your cheek made you look up into his eyes. In them, you saw the lights of the city reflected. Blue, red, yellow, green, purple. There were no stars to be seen over New York. But that was fine. You had one of your own. And he shone even brighter.

ARES takes you to a restaurant

Ares was sweating, and the suit didn't help. Checking his clock every other second, even though you weren't even late yet. Still, he felt just about ready to kill the next peasant that gave him an irritating look, as he was waiting before the most expensive restaurant of the city, alone, writhing and looking more like a security guard than anything else. Why had he come twenty minutes early? Now he looked like an idiot.

Restaurants weren't really his thing. If it had been solely up to him, he would have taken you to a fighting ring or an exciting war zone, but for you, he wanted to make everything perfect. So, when he asked chatGPT for help and it had told him that a good date idea was to take your significant other to the restaurant, he had been willing to set his discomfort aside.

"Ares!"

It was almost embarrassing how fast his frown subsided and was replaced by a rare smile on his features at the sight of you, stumbling out of an uber in a knee-long red dress that took his breath away. Seemingly not too experienced in your red heels, you wobbled up the way to the entrance and Ares met you halfway, instinctively putting an arm around your waist to stabilize you.

"You look pretty," he murmured under his breath and thought about how frustrating it was to know that his brother could have composed an ode to your beauty while he was left desperately searching his blank mind for the appropriate words. But even though his words had been all but poetic, you lit up and smiled at him brightly. "Thank you, Ares. You too." Ares hid his blush by turning to the entrance and nudging you forward, but the gentle tap of your hand told him you saw right through him.

DIONYSUS took you to a party... you think...

You were probably giggling, but all you could hear was the rushing in your ears and your favorite sound on earth: the laugh of your divine lover. Slumping against Dionysus, you passed by some pedestrians that were no doubt giving you dirty looks, but you really couldn't tell. A knot of two intertwined bodies swaying down the quiet suburban street in the dead of night, laughing obnoxiously and black out drunk.

How had you even gotten here? The fresh air helped a little with the fog in your mind, but one look at Dionysus' fiery eyes and you were in a blissful haze once more. The only reason your stumbling feet hadn't sent you falling to the ground yet was the inebriated god's arms around your waist as the two of you ran away from piqued suburban pedestrians on the late evening walk into the parking lot of some supermarket.

"How did we get here?" you wheezed, stumbling around the parking area. Dionysus only shrugged, his face showing the cutest of pouts. "It's not very fun here."

Shrugging off his arms, you sat down on the concrete and flopped onto your back, looking up at the sky. There was a decent number of stars to be seen. The god layed down beside you much more gracefully and rolled onto his belly, encircling your waist with his arms and hiding his face in the crook of your neck where he placed a trail of sloppy, drunken kisses.

You felt his lips move against your neck, giggling out drunken little confessions, his arms pulling you more tightly against his chest. His soft body and your pleasantly buzzing head minimized the discomfort of the concrete as you cuddled into him. Your eyes wandered up above, to the stars, where he said he always watched you from. Maybe he would take you with him one day. If what he was rambling into your skin had the slightest bit of sincerity to it.

[newtonsheffield]

Since I read Anthony talking to Neddy before sleep I can't stop imagining how it will be the first time Anthony tucks him to bed! 🥹

I think the first time Anthony stays late enough to see Neddy to bed he thought he’d just watch Kate do it. He loves watching Kate with Neddy anyway so it’s not like this is a burden really.

He watches her get Neddy ready for bed. Watches him get into his dinosaur pyjamas, watches Kate say side to side while heating milk on the stove for Neddy while he hugs her from the side, already singing him a lullaby. He watches Neddy settle into bed and Kate sit on his bed beside him which her arm around him and her chin resting on the top of his head as she reads him a story.

And then Neddy looks up at him, “Now my Anthony?”

Kate smiled encouragingly at Anthony as he stumbled forward, picking one of the books off the bookshelf that he remembered liking when he’d been a little boy. He sat on the other side of Neddy from Kate, feeling a Little awkward until Neddy nestled closer to him, sighing contentedly.

“I like this one.”

“I like this one too.” Anthony said gently, “Here we go.”

“I love you, Neddy.” Kate said gently when they slid off his bed, Neddy’s eyes already drooping as she kissed the top of his head.

“Love you Amma.”

“I love you as well, Neddy. Daddy loves you.” It’s the first time he’s told Neddy that and Anthony’s chest feels tight as Neddy nods sleepily.

“Love you too.”

“You need a drink.” Kate hummed as she closed the door behind them, already making her way to the kitchen. “You survived bed time, you deserve it.”

“I didn’t know one kid could want to hear Hairy Maclary so many times.”

“Eh, it’s a crowd pleaser.”

“We should add a Newton page in.” Anthony cleared his throat. “My brother Ben is pretty talented. He could match the artwork. It would surprise Neddy, he’d like it.”

Kate tilted her head as she stared at him. Almost as though she were seeing him for the first time, “You’re… really good at being a dad.”

“Thanks.” He tried to brush it off but it meant more to him than he could say.

“I mean it, Ant. I couldn’t have asked for a better co-parent. Glad my uterus got confused around you.”

“Me too? Not sure if that’s the right sentiment.”

Kate smirked, plucking two wine glasses off the shelf, “She was going and confused, I try to cut her some slack. You were very pretty after all.”

“Always happy to be a crowd pleaser myself.”

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 14

Hey guys! Welcome back! So this chapter is getting a little heavy on the angsty side, so just a heads up.

Things have been going great for all the stories especially the Christmas one.

This will be the story that keeps its usual schedule next week. Every other posting day will be finishing up the Olympic Swimmer one. So be on the look out for that.

Also super long chapter!

Steve tries out some hobbies, Joyce pushes, and Steve gets depressed.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Steve would like to say he got right on the job search the next day, but he really didn’t. He woke up refreshed and feeling good about himself. After a run on the treadmill and big breakfast he had already talked himself out needing to.

But instead he decided that he wanted to learn new hobbies. He had the money and pretty much unlimited time so why not?

The first thing he tried felting. Yeah, he had a lot of money, but he wanted to start with something cheap in case he got bored with it.

Taking the kit out of the box, he already ran into a problem. The leather finger gloves were much too small. Like he didn’t have fat fingers or anything but they were much too tight to fit on even his pinkie fingers he turned them inside out to see if he could make them bigger somehow.

He only succeeded in ruining the finger gloves. He tried rubber thimbles as replacements but still the sharp tool would pierce even the tough rubber.

The kit sat abandoned in a corner of his hotel room until one of the porters saw it and asked if he could have it. His sister did the felting all the time and she was having trouble finding colors she liked.

So Steve let him have it. Three days later the porter came back with a bright yellow canary and a female robin. He proudly displayed them on his nightstand next to the phone and alarm clock.

Robin loved them, but refused to take the robin. She said they shouldn’t be separated at any price.

Steve loved her a little bit more when she said that.

The next thing he tried was painting.

That lasted all of six hours before they got handed off to Will. It was a beautiful oil, acrylic, and water color set, with all the paint brushes and pallet and metal wood-handled pallet knives.

It lasted that long was because that was the time it took for Steve to set everything up, including an old sheet Rosa let him have, start painting and promptly knock everything over. The water, the paints, the easel. Everything. He broke the easel, knocked a hole in the canvas, and smeared paint all over the apron he had bought just for the occasion.

Will was happy to receive the paints, but in turn he gave Steve a simple notepad and pencil and taught him how to draw.

Steve liked that.

It was just for doodling and making silly pictures so it didn’t make him feel like a failure. He went to the bookstore and bought a bunch of books on how to draw certain things. Animals, the human figure. He even found this great reference book on clothes sorted based on the English monarch who was in power at the time the were wore.

Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

One day while he was over at Will’s talking art and whether or not kneaded erasers were worth the pain they caused if you dropped, Ellie introduced him to a new hobby. Will was against the things, Steve was for.

Jonathan huffed, “That’s probably a class issue as Steve here can afford to replace them and Will can’t.”

Steve and Will stared at each other in complete shock, but had to admit that Jonathan was probably right.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve huffed, “that’s fair. I guess I really didn’t think about it because it’s not my money I’m spending.”

“Have you tried looking for a job?” Joyce asked. She didn’t like that someone was paying to keep Steve safe. As nice as it was, in her experience the well tended to dry up when you least expected it to.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Byers.” Which he had. Yes, he had been focused on trying to learn things that would keep his mind from atrophying, he had also been looking. “If they seen me coming they take down the sign or if they don’t get to it in time, they say it’s an old sign and that they forgot to take it down.”

Joyce’s shoulders slumped in sympathy. The rumor around town is that because Mr. Harrington was the landlord for a lot of the properties that the businesses were on, he had threatened to raise their rent if they gave Steve a job.

Something that all the adults promised not to tell Steve so that he wouldn’t get so discouraged as to not try at all.

But surely Clint Harrington didn’t own every business in Hawkins and she told Steve so.

“No,” Steve huffed. “But he’s friends with ones that he doesn’t. I’m going to try the mall next. Most of the them are franchises and have their main bosses outside of Hawkins.”

She let out a little sigh of relief. It showed that Steve was trying and actively thinking of these types of pitfalls.

Steve shifted uncomfortably. “What have you got there, Ellie?” he asked trying to shift the focus off of him for a moment.

Joyce was watching Ellie while Hopper was at work.

The young girl held up long satin strings of embroidery thread. She had three shades of pink, a white, and a red. She tied the ends to a safety pin that was pinned her leg.

“I’m making friendship bracelets for me and Max,” Ellie said proudly. “The pink is for me, and then I have these colors for her!” She held up blues and purples.

“That’s way cool!” Steve said scooting over to sit next to her.

Jonathan and Will shared a smile. Steve was lost to the shiny allure of friendship bracelets.

“I could teach you if you like,” she said with a smile. “I also have boondoggle!” She held up shiny plastic strips. “I make key chains and other things that need to last a lot longer than the thread.”

Steve really lit up, but then frowned when he saw out intricate it all was. “I’ll never be do anything that fancy.”

Ellie sat closer and pulled out a little paper that she had in her caboodle. “I couldn’t at first either, so I went to the library and took out a book on all the different ways you could plait and how to do boondoggle. Then I copied a couple of the pages I wanted to try.”

She handed it to him and pointed to the easiest. “That’s the one I started with and it will probably take a little bit to get the spacing right.”

Steve tilted his head. “Is this like braiding hair?”

“Yes!” Ellie said excitedly. “That’s right. I forgot you braid Max’s hair all the time. So then it will be easy for you.”

Soon they were off in their own little world.

Joyce watched with her arms crossed and a concerned expression. Jonathan spotted her and shook his head. He stood up and went to stand next to her.

“You’ve got to let it go, Mom,” he said gently. “You aren’t his mom and even if you were, he’s still an adult. As near as anyone of can tell, whoever is footing this bill isn’t in it to exploit Steve, just making sure he’s taken care of.”

Joyce breathed out through her nose as she tried not to snap at her son. She didn’t know that as a fact and Hopper’s reassurances weren’t enough. She hated having to take his word that whoever this was wouldn’t harm Steve. And that galled.

“It’s all the expensive gifts,” she tried to explain. “The car, the unlimited credit card, cash drops weekly, the gold necklace, the hotel. It’s just not right, it’s not decent.”

Jonathan shook his head. “What about all the non-expensive gifts? Things this benefactor thought Steve would like or get a kick out of? Like that little canary with top hat that he keeps on his dashboard? Or all the music tapes they send, thinking Steve might want to try something different. Hell, according to Steve until they left the country, they talked once or twice a day. That doesn’t sound like someone out to hurt him.”

She let out a shuddering sigh. Because Jonathan was right, that didn’t sound like someone trying to use Steve. “I know.”

Jonathan patted on her shoulder and then went into his room, probably to call Nancy. Another person like his mom who worried Steve was being taken advantage of. But even if he was, that was a lesson he was going to have to learn the hard way.

On his own.

Will had long since left to go hang out with Mike while Ellie and Steve made friendship bracelets. He made four. A black, red, and dark grey one for Eddie, a red, a brown, and a light grey one for Robin and two yellow, white, and black ones. So he could one each to Eddie and Robin.

“Those are really pretty, Steve,” Ellie congratulated him. “Those are some interesting color choices.” Spoken as though she was silently judging, but too polite to say so.

He blushed and held up the first one. “This is for my special friend, they are his favorite colors.” Then he held up the second. “And this is for Robin. The colors remind me of a female robin and the last two represent who I am now.”

Ellie blinked for a moment as she took in the information. “I can see that now. Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“I get my thread at Melvand’s,” she said serenely, “if you wanted to continue to make more, that’s where you would go to get your own.”

Steve kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Ellie.”

He didn’t stay much longer than that, now that both of the other boys were gone, Joyce was keeping too close an eye on him with Ellie. He knew it wasn’t the gay thing as she didn’t mind Will being around her. And it wasn’t being a barely legal adult considering she would gladly leave Jonathan to look over her.

Nope.

It was entirely because she didn’t know who Steve’s mysterious benefactor was. And the thought of this unknown, probably male, person might hear about Ellie later? Yeah, that’s where she drew her invisible line.

Which was bullshit, like with Robin’s mom, Eddie wasn’t going to prey on little girls. He was freaking out about Steve might be underage when they met in the club. But it wasn’t like he could tell Joyce that. She might revoke his time with Will and Ellie if she learned he had been underaged drinking that night. The night Eddie saved him.

Steve went up to his hotel room and flopped face first into his bed. He was tired. Tired of all the questions about finding a job and getting out from under Eddie’s thumb. Like Eddie was financially abusing him or whatever.

He just wanted to bring people to his hotel room and show them all the little things Eddie sent him just because he walked into a gas station and saw something cute he thought he would like. The keychain from Kansas City with his name on it. The bright yellow shirt that said “I don’t take no shit” and had the Iowan state bird of the American goldfinch. That one came with a little note explaining that it was a canary, but the black on the wings reminded Eddie of the deliciously tight black leather pants.

Steve blushed for hours after that one.

He wiggled onto the bed and crawled under the covers without having taken off any of his clothes. Maybe he could hibernate until Eddie got back in America.

~

Steve managed to bury himself under the covers before the porter with the felting sister ripped the blanket off from over his head.

He stared blearily up at the porter. “Martin?” He struggled to sit up, but flopped back down on the pillow in distress. “Just leave me alone.”

“It’s Marty actually,” the porter huffed. “The only people that call me Martin are my boss and my mom. You’re not either.”

“Marty, I just want to go back to sleep.”

Marty pulled the rest of the blankets and yanked Steve off the bed. He went with a startled yelp. He leapt to his feet to fight him, but he saw that Bob and Rosa were standing by his bed with looks of concern on their faces.

“I have the shower running,” Bob said, “you will get in there and at least clean off the sweat you reek of. Then Rosa will change the sheets. Marty will bring up some food while you are showering, then the three of us are staging an intervention, because this isn’t like you!”

Steve opened his mouth to refute that statement, probably something about how no one called the whole time he as sulking.

Bob pulled out a stack of messages. “I have thirteen messages, and that’s only because the answering machine is full.”

Steve looked behind him and sure enough the machine was blinking complete with a full tape.

“Oh.”

He meekly went and did as he was told. He was only going to do a perfunctory wipe down because they were waiting for him, but once he got under the water it felt so good that he began to thoroughly scrub himself down. Normally going without a shower for a couple of days really didn’t do much, but because he had barely moved to pee, he was covered in thin layer of sweat.

He washed his hair and got out of the shower. He dried himself off and put on the long robe Eddie had gotten him. He opened the door and was instantly hit with enticing aroma of chicken noodle soup. He moved out of the bathroom to the main room, lured by the scent of real food.

The sofa was full of the hotel employees so he grabbed his bowl of soup and spoon and sat down on the armchair curled up as small as he could make himself.

“You frightened us, mi corazón,” Rosa huffed. “You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t ordering food. The only way we could tell you moved at all is that occasionally the cup in the bathroom would be wet or you would be on the other side of the bed.”

Bob nodded. “We were told to look after you, money was no object. That’s what we were told, but you turned out to be kind and generous and frankly better than ninety percent of the patrons here. You treat us like we’re human, so it became our pleasure to serve you. So when you weren’t opening your door to anyone or answering your calls, we knew something was wrong.”

“Sorry,” Steve muttered into his bowl. “I just got so tired of everyone trying to find out who is bankrolling my life style and telling me to get a job that I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“It’s none of their business,” Rosa huffed. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have this life. I know your papa wants to hurt and all this for you protection, but it seems to me your friends just see the money you...” she snapped her fingers. “What’s the word?”

“I’d use ‘splash around’,” Steve said with a shrug.

“Ehhh,” she knew it wasn’t the word she was looking for but it would have to do. “They see the good. Not the bad. They see new car, but they weren’t there to see you give up your old car. They see the fancy hobbies, but they don’t see your big room and no one to fill it with.”

“She’s right,” Marty said. “I don’t think even the girl that comes with your gifts from Eddie Munson quite understands the crippling loneliness and isolation you have to be feeling right now.”

Steve sniffled into his soup. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know how to impress upon them how dangerous this all is for me. Like the only ones that remotely understand are the Hendersons and that’s because my dad showed up on their doorstep. But even then I don’t think Dustin quite grasps the enormity of it all, but then he’s thirteen so...”

“The only reason your father hasn’t penetrated hotel security,” Bob said with a grimace, “is that the owner, Dr. Sam Owens hates business men like your father. Otherwise, his hold over this town would have extended to here, no doubt about that.”

“So this is what’s going to happen,” Marty said, “if you need to sneak out and just go for a drive to get out of your head, call Bob and he’ll arrange it. If you need someone to talk to ring up Rose or myself. We’re here for you. We understand that Mr. Munson is out of the country right now and it makes it harder, but we’ve got you, okay?”

Steve nodded and said weakly, “Okay!”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: an emotional rollercoaster

pairing: xander hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you hate rollercoasters but with a little persuasion xander manages to get you on one only you’d forgotten how badly you couldn’t handle them

warnings: dizziness/feeling faint

a/n: hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

“No!” I exclaim for the fiftieth time , throwing my head back and laughing.

“Please,” Xander begs, pulling out his puppy dog eyes.

Usually they’d work but with what was at stake I was not about to let them win me over this time.

I turn my head stubbornly, “no.”

“Please!” he says desperately.

“Xander I already told you I’m not going on any of these,” I remind him with a smile.

I mean I wasn’t going to come at all, it was a miracle Xander got me out of the house. Theme parks were not my scene, I hated rollercoasters and people and crowds and basically everything about the place. Still, Xander had begged me to go and I had obliged. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

“They’re honestly not that bad,” he says, glancing up at one of the largest death-inducing machines of mankind.

“Nu-uh we had a deal,” I reply stubbornly, “I would come to the theme park and watch everyone else if I didn’t have to go on any of the rides.”

He looks at me pleadingly, “just one.”

“No Xand I hate them,” I deadpan.

“You could handle this one easily,” he rolls his eyes playfully pointing to one with about six loops.

“I told you about my rollercoaster trauma!” I exclaim, glaring at him.

“You were five and under the height limit,” he reminds me.

“And I still passed out,” I almost yell.

“Just one tiny weeny little ride,” he says, squinting excessively and making weird hand gestures as if I’d magically be convinced.

“No,” I chuckle, “how do you not understand that word?”

“He hasn’t since he was about two,” Jameson chirps in passing, walking off to a food cart with Avery, “you’ll get used to it.”

Xander jabs him in ribs as he passes and the turns back to me. A stubborn dog with a bone. Nearly as stubborn as me.

“Come on,” he sings, “you know you want to.”

I raise an eyebrow, “in what alternate universe is that?”

He opens his mouth to reply but I already know what he is going to say.

“The answer is no,” I reply.

“What if…” he grins with that mischievous Hawthorne look in his eyes, “…you ride this one with me I’ll buy you ten books on the way home.”

I stop. Physically come to a halt to process the possibility. Ten books. Ten whole books. It’s an irresistible offer and he knows it.

“Even the limited edition version of shatter me?” I test him.

I’ve been begging him for months and the only reason he’s said no is because I have five other copies at home. Even though I insist this one is a must, he strongly disagrees.

He sighs, his chocolate eyes flicking to me with a withered expression, “yes even the limited edition of shatter me.”

My jaw drops as I grab his arm and I almost start to jump up and down, “are you kidding?”

“One ride baby and it’s all yours,” Xander winks back.

There’s a long pause. I hate rollercoasters, I hate theme parks, I hate the thought of going on a ride but I love books, I love the shatter me series and I would love limited edition copy…

Decisions, decisions…

“Fine,” I grumble.

His whole face lights up and my heart swells, I love it when he looks like this, “you’re serious?”

“One ride for ten books one of which a limited edition, sounds like a pretty good deal for me,” I shrug, the nerves creeping in as I realise what I’m really getting myself into.

“So you mean for the whole of today I could’ve bribed you with books,” he says, staring at me like I was his world as he tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Probably,” I nod.

“Damn it,” he mutters.

I poke my tongue out and begin to walk again.

Xander laughs and holds my shoulders, softly turning me around, “the line is this way honey.”

He steers me over to an extremely lengthy queue leading to something I knew I seriously did not want to set foot on. I gape at the line.

“It’s worth the wait,” Xander explains, reading my expression.

“Indeed it is,” comes a familiar voice. I spin around to find Jameson behind me, joining the queue.

“Where did you come from?” Xander asks.

“The food cart line was too long and I got distracted,” he shrugs.

“And we’ve wanted to do on this all day,” Avery adds pointing up.

I stare at her, “this?”

“Yep,” Jameson nods, leaning on the railing, “so how comes Xander’s roped you into this one.”

“He promised me books,” I explain.

He grins at Xander, “smart one.”

He looks around, “where did everyone else go?”

“Lib went on the death drop again and of course Nash said yes to going with her practically with hearts pulsating in his eyes,” Jameson continues .

“She’s addicted to that ride,” Xander chuckles, shaking his head

I tilt my head to admire him. It‘s hard not to. I like to just watch him sometimes, the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards every few seconds, the way his eyes light up when he talks to his brother, everything, I loved everything.

“I know,” Jameson hums in response, “Grayson and Lyra made a bet on who could walk in a straight line and not spill any water after the teacups, my money is on Lyra.”

“Mine too,” he says, “how does Gray think he stands a chance with all the pirouettes she can do?”

Jameson shrugs, “ he’s a stubborn idiot.”

“Not like you can say much then,” Avery smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jameson slips an arm around her waist and pulls her in, “that one hurt heiress.”

“What a shame,” she murmurs, her gaze pinned to his green eyes.

From then on their conversation sort of blurs. There’s sound but I don’t identify any of the words. It’s all in the background, I’m too busy analysing the death wish to which I’d signed a forever binding contract to. How had I managed to be persuaded so easily?

“Don’t look so petrified,” Xander mumbles into my hair, wrapped his around me from the back and reeling me into his chest.

“It’s a little difficult,” I reply, not breaking eye contact from the rollercoaster.

“You might love it,” he says.

“Trust me when I tell you, I will not,” I scoff.

“I can’t believe he convinced you,” Avery says, shaking her head.

“I am magical like that,” Xander responds and I can hear the grin I loved so much in his voice.

“Sure,” Jameson rolls his eyes.

“Hey!”

I look at Jameson, “have you been on this one before?”

“Only a thousand times,” Jameson grins, “me and Xander used to stuff things in our shoes to surpass the height limit so we could go on with Nash and Gray.”

My jaw drops without my consent, “and none of you have ever died?”

“Well Gray’s a bit emotionally dead but-“ Jameson begins, when Avery whacks him and gives him a sharp warning look, “hey ow! let me finish! But that has nothing to do with a rollercoaster.”

“Good to know,” I sigh.

“You’ll be fine,” Xander soothes, rubbing my and own my arms, “don’t worry about it.”

“Unless you fall out,” Jameson smirks, “then you most definitely won’t be fine.”

Avery’s glare becomes more piercing and a fear I wasn’t used to seeing in Jameson flickers across his face. Usually it would amuse me to see him scared but right now I was too focussed on my own worries.

“Jamie don’t be mean,” she snaps.

“I mean it’s a fact if you fall out-“

“Pay no attention to what comes out of his mouth,” she cuts him off, addressing me, “I don’t half the time.”

“Ouch heiress you know how to cut me deep,” Jameson winces holding the left side of his chest.

Avery takes a step closer to him, tilting her head up softly to meet his gaze, a small smile laces her lips, “I know how to do a lot more than that.”

I watch them, wondering if me and Xander ever looked that in love.

“Guys, get a room,” Xander announces.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I didn’t even mean it like that!” Avery exclaims.

“Sure!” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

I step to the side and tilt my head seeing the endless queue of people. If the queue is as long as I think it is I might never reach the front. Perfect I wouldn’t have to die on a rollercoaster, just in the line for one.

“How long is this queue?” I ask, changing the subject

“Not that long,” Jameson shrugs, “wait time’s only an hour.”

“An hour?” I gape in my surprise, “people queue an hour for this?”

“Says the girl who camped out when Holly Black came to a book signing,” Xander teases.

I fold my arms and stare at him with my eyebrows raised, “your point?”

“This is people’s Holly Black book signing,” he explains.

“This?” I almost yell in disbelief, “this death trap?”

“Precisely.”

I shake my head, “I will never understand people.”

“That’s what I love about you,” he winks.

I narrow my eyes as he takes the small of my back into his palms, “the only thing?” I ask softly.

“Of course not,” he grins, “but if I sat here and listed it to you we’d be dead before I got to the end.”

“How morbidly adorable,” I reply dryly, secretly melting inside.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with something that made my heart race, “I love you.”

“If you loved me I would not be in this line,” I deadpan.

“And if you loved me you’d ride this rollercoaster with me,” he counters, poking his tongue out.

“See I never said I loved you back when you told me you loved me,” I shrug.

“Your eyes did though,” Xander replies, making my cheeks tint a gentle pink colour.

A smile breaks out into my face and steals away my features, “what did I tell you about reading my eyes?”

“Are you two quite finished?” Jameson coughs.

“No we haven’t snogged yet,” I snap back, “shut up.”

“I mean you can’t say a lot Jamie,” Xander adds, “you and Avery are x rated compared to us.”

“We are not x rated,” Avery steps in.

“Oh so when I walked in on you-“

“We’re in public Xander,” Jameson yells, panic and desperation flickering through his eyes.

Xander smiles satisfactorily, “that’s what I thought.”

“Let them have their moment Jamie,” Avery murmurs softly, taking his hand.

I look back to Xander, “where were we?”

“You were complaining about my eye reading tendencies,” he answers, flashing me a grin.

“Well,” I shrug softly, “it’s not fair you know what I’m thinking all the time.”

“You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

“Hmmm,” I hum.

“I’m thinking I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his voice is low and in the back of his throat, making my insides go weak.

I let my lips nearly sit on his, “then why aren’t you?”

He smiles and slowly initiates this kiss. His lips brush over mine so gentle and tentative. His hands slide in my back, then around my neck and finally cupping my face.

“Has that helped with the nerves?” he asks a hint of seduction in his voice that he only used when we were in particular circumstances.

“You might need to do it again,” I say with doe eyes.

“I don’t want to traumatise too many kids we might get kicked out,” he chuckles.

“If we get kicked out that means I don’t have to go on this ride,” I beam.

“That’s why we’re not getting kicked out,” he says, booping the tip of my nose.

I sigh. It was worth a shot.

“It feels like I’ve moved nowhere,” I complain, peering down at the line that’s just as long as before.

“They’re very little steps,” he reasons.

I say, my aching limbs weighing like lead, “Xand my legs hurt.”

“Come here then…”

He opens his arms and I lazily lean on him like he’s my life support. He wraps his arms around me and brings me into a comforting hug. I’d always loved being in Xander’s arms, he was hands down the world’s best hugger. I felt safe and warm and loved.

“You tired?” he asks, probably noticing my eyes drooping slightly.

“Mhmmm.”

He laughs, “you look so cute right now,”

“Stop it,” I blush, shying away from his gaze.

“You do,” he says, “your face was all squished.”

“Oh thanks,” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“I love it.”

“That is not a compliment,” I say, leaning back onto him again. My wimps of legs aching as if I’d never held my own weight up before.

“Here get on my back,” Xander offers.

“You want go piggy back me?” I raise my eyebrows, folding my arms.

He looks me dead in the eyes, as serious as Xander gets, “yes, I want to piggy back you.”

I hesitate before I remember who I’m dating, then I shrug, “okay.”

And with that I just casually hopped onto his back and rebranded myself of his personal backpack.

“I feel like a koala,” I murmur into his ear.

“Don’t koalas usually cling onto the front?” Xander asks.

I shrug, “I don’t know, I’m not a koala expert.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and slump onto him. I can feel my nerves growing. I’ve tried to suppress them and distract myself from feeling them but now they were on the rise the closer to the front we got. I subconsciously play with the fabric of Xander’s shirt rubbing the fibres gently between my fingers over and over in a rhythmic pattern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me. He knows me so well it hurts.

“Oh,” I murmur, a little consumed in my own anxious thoughts, “no nothing.”

“You sure?”

I hum in response as we take another step closer to the front of the queue. From the amount of people in front of us I assumed we’d be in the next lot to board. I chew the inside of my lip accidentally piercing it, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

“Xand,” my voice shakes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this,” I tell him.

He sets me down and places him hands on my hips, “what are you scared of?”

“Dying,” I reply immediately.

“Well that’s not going to happen at all and I can tell you that for sure,” he comforts.

“What if it does?”

“I won’t let it,” he replies, “besides we’re in the queue now there’s no turning back.”

“There is I can turn around right now and walk back that way,” I say pointing behind him.

Xander grins, “no no no, we are here now.”

We take another step forwards and the people infront of us begin to get on. We’re getting closer and closer to the start. My heart pounds in my chest, I can hear it roaring through my ears.

I stumble backwards in a panic, “I can’t do this, I actually can’t do it.”

“Yes you can,” he says gently, “I’ve got you.”

“Xander,” I exhale rubbing my temples, “I am freaking out.”

“Hold my hand.”

“Unless your hand has some magic anti-panic power that is really not going to help,” I exclaim.

“Good thing I’ve been brushing up on my sorcery,” he jokes with a witty expression.

“Xand I’m serious,” I hyperventilate with a deadly look in my eyes.

“Well you’re on it now,” he shrugs.

My jaw nearly drops, I’m sat on the rollercoaster and I hadn’t even realised I’d gotten on. I’d been too focussed on my mess of feelings that I’d been led on.

“I think I should get off,” I squeeze his hand.

“If you really want to you should,” Xander says with a soft look in his eyes.

I don’t move. My brain is telling me to but some force is pulling me down to my seat. Maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself or maybe I just really want that book. Whatever it is, I remain where I am.

I look at him with a determined sharpness in my eyes, “give me your hand.”

He beams widely and extends his arm, squeezing my palm in his.

“If you let go of me I will kill you,” I snap.

He tilts his head to the side and shoot me a lopsided grin, “I’ll never let go of you.”

And then it begins.

***

I had my eyes closed for the whole ride, screamed even when it had stopped and probably made Xander’s hand go purple with how tightly I was squeezing it.

The world spins as we get off and I stumble to meet the others.

“You’re looking a little pale there y/n,” Nash drawls, his eyebrow arched in concern.

“Feel dizzy,” I slur, panicked. I reach for my boyfriend, “Xand?”

My voice is barely a sound, you can hear the fear infecting every note.

“I got you,” he murmurs, supporting me with a hand around his waist .

His hand is warm against my side, still I can’t stand straight, “I hate you,” I grumble.

“I know,” he says, pulling me in closer so all of my weight is practically on him.

“I hated that.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to fall over,” I warn him, feeling my legs about to give way, “and my head really hurts.”

“Come here,” Xander tells me gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up into his arms, bridal style. My heavy head lolls towards him chest and collides with it.

“I’m just going to close my eyes to stop the spinning,” I say, my words disjointed and distant.

“You do that sweetie” he leans down and kisses my forehead and I feel his grip tighten around me.

“What did you do to her?” Libby asks, I can feel her gentle hand on my forehead checking for a temperature.

“I didn’t do anything,” Xander defends, “the giant metal contraption to our left however, did some real damage.”

“You got her on a rollercoaster,” I hear Lyra say and I can imagine her jaw is dropped, given the many conversations we’d had on how I would never go on a rollercoaster.

“Biggest life regret,” I mumble, eyes still shut.

Xander explains, “I promised to buy her books.”

“Who knew she could be so easily bribed,” Grayson comments dryly.

“Never again,” I groan, burying my face into Xander’s shirt to block out the light. I can smell him, his scent. It’s sweet, it’s comforting, it’s home. My heart rate slows a little and I feel my limbs relax.

“She looks like she’s dying,” Jameson responds.

“Thanks,” I scoff sarcastically with all the energy I had left.

Avery snaps, barely half a beat after me, “Jameson that’s horrible!” I hear a thump and a dramatic ‘ow’ and presume Avery whacked him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I shrug, regretting trying to support my own head.

“Geez Xand I think you broke her,” Lyra says.

“Then I’ll fix her right back up,” he replies.

“I think she’s past the point of fixing,” Jameson says.

“Nothing is past the point of fixing,” Xander responds, a hard determination in his voice.

“Do we need to call someone or get some help?” Libby asks her eyebrows pinching together with a maternal concern.

I try to shake my head and fail miserably, “I’m just dizzy, it’ll pass.”

“Give her a sip of water,” Nash advises handing Libby a bottle.

She gently lifts my head and tips some down my throat, making sure I’d swallowed before I laid back down.

“Better?” I hear her ask.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“You’re a pathetic liar sweetheart,” Xander says with a small laugh.

“Shut up I’m fine,” I reply, although I very much did not feel fine.

“I’m going to take you home.”

Guilt twinges in my stomach.

“No, no,” I rush, trying to sit up in his arms and failing miserably, “don’t ruin your day, just stick me on the floor and I’ll be fine.”

It’s a total lie but I don’t care. He shouldn’t have to miss out because I can’t handle something.

“We’ll see you guys a bit later,” he turns to the others, before beginning to walk towards the exit.

“Xander I’m fine, it’s fine,” I say, squirming, “put me down.”

“Stop talking sweetheart it’s going to hurt your head,” Xander replies planting another kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t drop me then,” I murmur helplessly, clinging to him even tighter.

“Even if my arms go numb there’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says.

I wince, “I was not built for rollercoasters.”

“No you weren’t my love,” Xander agrees softly.

I groan in response, the spinning getting progressively worse.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” he says as he tentatively strokes my cheek, “I didn’t think it’d make you feel this bad.”

“I did try to warn you,” I murmur leaning into his touch.

“I know I’m sorry,” he replies and I can hear the worry in his voice,

I fall back into his arms and close my eyes to relieve myself from the dizziness, “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” I whisper, “I don’t want your day to be ruined because I can handle a stupid little rollercoaster.”

“I’m not missing out,” he reassures me, “I’ve got everything I could ever want bundled in my arms right now,”

“That was really cute,” I giggle, “and I’ll appreciate more when I’m not seeing stars.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, real guilt thickening his tone.

I had only meant it as a joke but hearing that rawness in his voice made something in my heart twist. My mind paints the ashamed look in his kind eyes. I despise the thought.

“Don’t feel bad,” I say quickly.

He forces a chuckle, “I do feel bad.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” I open my eyes, and see double of him, not that I mind. Two Xander’s aren’t so bad to look at.

“No ,” he frowns, “how?”

***

I curl up with my special edition shatter me novel, taking in each word. I know it’s going to be the best reread of my life. I can’t help but keep flicking back to admire the cover. It’s the most gorgeous thing I own.

Everything stopped spinning around an hour after I got off of that death trap and I can actually make out the words.

I feel his eyes on me, I always can. I look up with a grin and to no surprise I’m right. Xander’s standing there staring at me, a small smile lacing his lips. He looks at me like I’m worth more than each and every blueberry scone in the universe, which is a big compliment from him.

He walks over and sits down beside me and I notice two mugs in each of his hands. One is decadently topped with whip cream, chocolate shavings sprinkles and a whole world of other things and the other was plain. I think it was safe to say who’s was who’s. He passes me a the non-embellished steaming mug and I can’t help but smile, “worth it?” he asks me, eyebrows raised at the book.

“For my mental health,” I begin slowly, “no, for this book, absolutely.”

“You’re a little odd,” he shoots me a very Hawthorne grin, “has anyone ever told you that?”

I move closer to him, “I may have heard it here and there.”

“But that’s why I love you,” he whispers cupping my face in his hands.

“Good thing I love you too then,” I murmur with a little laugh as his lips crash into mine.

hey lovelies!! yes I am alive!!

sorry this isn’t a req fic and sorry it’s taken me so long to get another fic out, I’ve had loads of tests lately and a busy time in general. hopefully I’ll be able to write more regularly when it’s all done but for now unfortunately it’ll be a bit hit and miss, hope you can understand <33

TIG masterlist

[nerdasaurus1200]

A little fix it fic cause the Zaun family deserved a better ending. Also, I just realized, this is my first Arcane fanfic, so I hope y’all like it!

Not Over Yet

“Is that singing I hear?” Caitlyn’s voice pulled Vi away from the fire for a moment. Despite the teasing smile, she still tried to covertly look at the plate on the table beside her partner. The sandwich was half eaten this time. That was at least some progress.

“Oh, yeah. It’s just this..silly little song my mom used to sing to me and Jinx when we were little.” Vi laughed under her breath. It was still a little strange calling her sister that.

“Before she…you know.” Vi looked back at the fire and shrugged, and she could see Caitlyn nodding slightly. The fire was a welcome distraction, but it still put her on edge. It reminded her too much of Vander dy-…of the accident. She swore she could see all their faces in the flames if she looked hard enough. All those she lost…or maybe she was just starting to see things too. Was this how Jinx felt all those years? That weird sense of…of emptiness while never being alone? Like some ghost was always watching over her shoulder?

Well, it wasn’t like she could ask her now.

“How did the service go?” Caitlyn wrapped an arm around Vi and leaned her head on her shoulder.

“Alright.” Vi shrugged again, unable to pull her face away from the flames, “I don’t know how I didn’t break down by the time it was my turn to get up there and spew sappy shit.”

Caitlyn chuckled, a dry and bittersweet sound.

“I think little man’s taking it pretty hard. He couldn’t even look me in the eye.” Vi recalled.

Caitlyn’s brow furrowed for a moment as she took in Vi’s words, trying to think of anything that would provide some comfort, “…I think Ekko just needs a bit of time. We all grieve in different ways.”

“Oh yeah, cupcake, some people go crazy, and other people decide to play dictator and declare martial law.” Vi remarked with a playful glare. Caitlyn huffed affectionately and flicked a strand of Vi’s hair, which in turn made Vi chuckle.

But then as soon as the happiness came, it vanished. It was so hard to be happy these days, with all that had happened.

“Have, uh…have the reports come back yet?” Vi asked cautiously.

Caitlyn’s eyes softened in sadness as she leaned forward to kiss Vi’s cheek, “Still no signs of any remains in the Hexgates. Only the bomb shrapnels we were able to initially recover.”

Vi’s jaw clenched ever so slightly and her eyes hardened for a moment. Damn it all, three times and they still couldn’t find any sign of her family??? Weren’t Enforcers supposed to be good at sticking their nose in stuff like this?

“However, I was looking at the schematics of the Hexgates, and…” Caitlyn let herself trail off as she dropped a piece of paper into Vi’s lap.

Vi’s eyes narrowed as she looked it over, some of it made sense but some of it was just nonsense, “Cupcake, what the hell is this?”

“If you and I know anything about your sister, it’s that she’s always two steps ahead.” Caitlyn pointed out, “The Hexgates have plenty of air ducts that she could’ve used as an escape route and we’d be nonethewiser.”

Vi’s eyes widened as Caitlyn’s implication hung in the air. So Jinx and Vander could be…her family really could be…

“If she’s alive she’ll turn up sooner or later. But we have a lot of work to do until that happens. For Piltover and for Zaun.” Caitlyn spoke softly, a gentle determination in her voice. Vi was helpless to the smirk that appeared on one side of her mouth. There she was, there was the Cupcake she knew.

“…Are you still in this fight, Violet?” Caitlyn couldn’t help but ask. At her question, a fond huff escaped Vi. She turned to look at her partner with a smile as she interlaced their fingers together.

“I am the dirt under your nails, cupcake.” She declared, “Nothing’s gonna clean me out.”

Caitlyn’s eyes sparkled with love, and then she smirked playfully, “That’s Sheriff Cupcake you you, creampuff.”

The couple shared another laugh as their forehead gently pressed together. For a moment, the world fell away…it was just them.

“…could you teach me that song?” Caitlyn asked.

Vi blinked in surprise, and then nodded, “Yeah sure.”

Then she began to sing, “Dear friend, across the river…my hands…are cold and bare…”

~~~~

“Dear friend, across the river, I’ll take…what you can spare…”

Jinx alternated between humming and singing as she steered the airship, just staring out at the horizon before her. She wasn’t even sure how far away from Piltover they were now.

A familiar little shove pulled her attention away however.

“Heyy, do not distract the driver.” Jinx scolded, though her tone betrayed that she wasn’t actually that serious. Not that she ever was.

Janna above, Jinx was more grateful than ever for that mischievous that little smile now. If Ekko hadn’t saved Isha, then, well…

Jinx thought it best not to dwell on that. Or else Mylo might start up again and the last thing she needed was his smart mouth. Either way, she owed Ekko a solid for it. And of course, for helping her steal an airship.

Isha giggled and hugged Jinx, but still made a bit of a stink face as she saw Jinx’s hair.

“What, you don’t like my new haircut?” Jinx teased, and rolled her eyes fondly when Isha shook her head.

“Ah, you’re just mad cause you can’t play jumprope with my braids for a while.” Jinx reached out and gently pushed Isha’s helmet to cover her eyes for a moment. Isha giggled again as she pushed her helmet back up. Jinx stepped back and let Isha take the wheel.

“Sooo, what next Fishbones?” Jinx pulled her shark rocket launcher out.

“We’ll do our laundry, wash the dishes, pay some bills, and get Isha into a good school!” Fishbones ‘spoke’ sounding rather excited about such mundane activities. Isha looked excited too as she steered, while Jinx looked incredibly annoyed.

“Stupid dumb rocket launcher.” She muttered, giving Fishbones a firm smack. At the sound, a rough old growl was heard a few feet away. Neither Jinx nor Isha flinched, they were used to that sound by now.

“Hey, don’t worry, Vander.” Jinx set the rocket launched down and sat beside her adopted father, “We’ll find another way. We always do. In the meantime, Vi can relax a little playing housewife to the Hat Lady.”

Isha pulled a lever near the steering wheel of the airship and moved over to sit next to Jinx and Vander. After she was settled all snug and cozy in Vander’s fur, she signed at Jinx.

“Oh, you want me to keep singing, huh? Mmmm…well alright.” Jinx agreed.

“You still haven’t mentioned where exactly you plan on going.” Silco’s voice could be heard, his hallucination lingering in the shadows by Mylo and Claggor.

Jinx smiled and shrugged in acknowledgement. She still hadn’t quite figured that part out yet. For now, the top priorities were keeping Isha safe, and getting Vander’s mind back.

This time, Jinx chose to ignore Silco for once as she sang, “We raise…no mighty towers, our homes…are built of stone, so come…across the river, and find…the world below…”

[tinylongwing]

Vide Noir's dual narrative structure

All right, here it is, me making good on at least one of my meta threats. Lord Huron's album Vide Noir can be interpreted as an album with two parallel, contrasting narratives - that of the lead protagonist Buck Vernon, as well as that of Johnnie Redmayne.

Disclaimer: this is an interpretation I think is pretty sound and well-reasoned, but I make no claim to any of this being proven canon information.

---

For those unfamiliar or who need a reminder, the primary narrative is this: the year is 1967, and we start near the end of Buck's journey, as he awakens from being black-brained (Lost in Time and Space). Having just suffered an overdose on the drug vide noir, his memories are slow to return to him, but return they do - his fiancee, Leigh/Lee Green (from here on Leigh but both spellings have been used), left him without a word one night, and he decided to follow, heading west to Los Angeles from their home town of Detroit, Michigan. He's been struggling to find her, checking every bar in the city in case she was booked to sing at one as her move was the result of her chasing her dream of becoming a singer. He doesn't remember a lot about himself, really, after that overdose, but he remembers her, and his love for her makes him desperate to find her.

We're then taken back to the night he left to find her (Never Ever) and his journey is mostly linear from there - he meets a fortune teller, Lady Moonbeam, who tells him that pursuing Leigh will end in his ruin, but he refuses to accept her advice and pushes on (Ancient Names I & II). He laments that he's been some kind of fuckup, that maybe he chased Leigh away through his own behavior, but that he still loves her and begs for her to return (Wait By the River). At some point around here he also learns of the drug vide noir and contemplates using it himself for clues.

(Note that unlike in the movie, in the album, nothing suggests that Buck suffered from a murder attempt by Z'Oiseau's henchmen but that instead he may have overdosed himself in an attempt to find Lee. However, there's plenty of reason to suspect that the film is the canon interpretation here anyway and the henchmen kidnapping Buck just doesn't make for a song I guess.)

One way or another, he winds up black-brained, where some deep existential truths of the universe are revealed to him (Secret of Life - namely that everyone and everything dies in the end, and that a human life is brief, fleeting, and ultimately meaningless within the context of the universe as a whole). He somehow reawakens rather than dying (Back from the Edge) and, again, understands that nothing he does will ever matter, has never mattered*, but that *even though* he's suffered greatly already on this quest, he's still committed to trying to find Leigh, pitting himself against that careless universe (The Balancer's Eye).

So he keeps searching (When the Night is Over) until he finds a clue, or a helping hand of some sort, that leads him on the right path to his beloved Leigh (Moonbeam). We get one more reminder of the forces at work here - vide noir is some awful stuff, it nearly killed him, Leigh herself is hooked on it now, it shows you terrible truths and nightmares beyond human comprehension (Vide Noir) - and when all is said and done, as Buck thinks he's about to "rescue" Leigh from her fate and bring her back to his fantasy of a perfect happy life together, she rejects him. He came all this way through time and space, and she doesn't love him at all in the end (Emerald Star).

---

I consider this the primary narrative here because it makes use of all the songs on the album, it has a clear start and ending and a mostly linear structure, and the album basically serves as a soundtrack to Buck's fool's errand. The film agrees - every scene is centered around his journey, after all. But we have context from Lord Huron's other albums, as well as the lyrics and musical stylings of multiple songs on Vide Noir, that show us that Buck isn't necessarily the only narrator on this album. Strange Trails, of course, came out three years prior, and features songs by multiple fictional bands performing songs which serve as narration for a diverse cast of characters. Unlike on Strange Trails, where each track has a writer or band specifically named and assigned to it as well as a character narrative, Vide Noir does not give us such conclusive information, but we can still put clues together to understand at least some of who the in-universe performers might be on Vide Noir.

Most likely, multiple of these songs are by the Buck Vernon Band - this is pretty obvious. Buck's semi-autobiographical music is all over Strange Trails, usually referencing a girl he loves, sometimes referencing that the girl left him, often giving her different names, all starting with L (Fool For Love's "Lily", and "Louisa").

But the other band that we can easily identify as performers on Vide Noir are the Phantom Riders. For those who need an introduction, this is the band composed of four members of the World Enders gang, with Dale Redmayne at the helm as lead writer. They were seen previously on Strange Trails as well, with banger surf/rockabilly hits like Hurricane, Until the Night Turns, and The World Ender. As a storytelling tool, they are primarily brought in to tell us about the man-turned-undead horror entity known as The World Ender himself, and then otherwise mostly we get their songs about Dale's brother Johnnie Redmayne, who is introduced to us in Strange Trails as a fun-loving and presumably fairly young guy, a thrillseeker and hedonist, who lives for the moment as if the world could end any day. The Buck Vernon Band jumps in between some of these songs with an interjection to tell us that wait, Johnnie is dead, or was, but he got back up. In Dead Man's Hand, Buck speculates that Johnnie could have been murdered or may have killed himself, accidentally or intentionally, upon first seeing him. It's in Vide Noir that we actually learn more about the circumstances of Johnnie's death.

Before we get to that, let's first identify which Vide Noir songs are by the Phantom Riders. This isn't all that hard to do. Any song that references The World Ender is presumably theirs - that gives us Secret of Life right away ("I sit alone in the dark, and I try to remember the words you spoke when you summoned the Ender"). This is reinforced in the Alive From Whispering Pines webseries, episode 423 - Secret of Life, when played, shows a skeleton prop the band has jokingly referred to as Cobb Avery on their social media posts in the past, and after the song ends in this episode, the tune continues in a slowed and distorted fashion through a clip of a WBUB movie version of Dead Man's Hand showing Johnnie rising from the pavement when Buck is about to bury him.

Ancient Names Parts I and II are presumably written by the same band as a two-part song. In the Vide Noir film, the Phantom Riders are performing Part II in the underground club. Additionally, in Alive From Whispering Pines episode 426, after Tubbs Tarbell is done reminiscing about the band and their nihilism, Ancient Names Part II is the next song covered - and often in this series, the structure of the segments between songs are intentional and related to either the song they precede or the song they follow, so it's likely that the placement of the Phantom Riders' appearance followed by a track they're associated with is meant to help confirm them as the performers. In addition, Ancient Names Part I references a fortune teller, and we know from the film that the fortune teller in question, Lady Moonbeam, is associated with the World Enders and knows the Redmaynes.

The last track on Vide Noir that is most likely theirs is the title track, Vide Noir. We have two points of evidence for this - one lyrical ("Many evils have I enjoyed, prowling the night raising hell with the boys" which feels like a pretty direct reference to the World Enders' nighttime violence) and one musical - the main melody of Vide Noir is identical to that of Ancient Names (and Fortune Teller's Theme, actually). In Strange Trails, using the same melody for multiple songs was an easy way to tie Frankie Lou's songs together, and here we can see that it ties two Phantom Riders tracks together directly, indicating that not only are they both by the same band, but that Vide Noir is a followup to Ancient Names part I, in which our fortune teller did warn us things would go very, very wrong.

(And besides all of that, the Phantom Riders tracks on Vide Noir all tend to be similar in musical style - psychedelia-flavored garage rock with a heavy bass line, in contrast to other songs on the album.)

With those songs identified, we should also be aware of just how much Lord Huron seem to love their dual narratives. In Strange Trails, we have a really concrete example of this with The Night We Met. This song was in-universe written by Frankie Lou, presumably about her doomed relationship with Z'Oiseau and how much she wishes she had never met him to begin with (as she echoes in her dialogue in the Vide Noir film when speaking to Buck in her dressing room). However, the music video for this song shows not Frankie and Z'Oiseau, but instead Buck, driving west, while reflecting on his own failure to keep Leigh, wishing he could go back in time and fix things, and meanwhile kind of hallucinating her as he goes. In the album Long Lost, we get another dual narrative in I Lied, which is performed by Donny and Midge but is also sung by Leigh in Vide Noir, foreshadowing her breakup with and lack of love for Buck. There are certainly other dual narratives in both of those albums to be found as well - so what we should keep in mind here is that often, songs can be written and performed by a character or band in order to narrate for themselves or someone close to them, but that just as in our real-world movie soundtracks or our favorite character playlists on spotify, those songs can be applied to other characters in different (but somewhat similar) situations than the ones they were written for.

So! We have four Phantom Riders tracks on Vide Noir, all of which were presumably not written originally in-universe about Buck Vernon, because why would they be, Buck and the World Enders only briefly cross paths and at the very least we know that Ancient Names Part II was written well before he ever met them. Instead, it makes the most sense if like the bulk of the Phantom Riders songs, these tracks serve Johnnie's narration instead.

---

If that's the case, what does that give us? Winding around and through Buck's journey is this second storyline. Johnnie Redmayne, having used and enjoyed vide noir himself abundantly ("I had a vision tonight that the world was ending" as one probable example), decides it's time to get his hands on bulk quantities so as to get the Enders in on controlling the flow of the drug in LA rather than letting Z'Oiseau maintain a monopoly, thereby also increasing revenue for the members of the gang.

It's Moonbeam who warns him to knock it off first. We know, thanks to the film, that he'd spoken to her at some point about his plans to investigate the source of the drug at Tobey's arcade and try to get his hands on some to sell. Whatever his exact plan was, in Ancient Names Part 1, Moonbeam warns him that pursuing this is going to get him killed. Vide noir isn't just a drug, it's something extremely dangerous, tied to dangerous people, and he needs to get away from "her" (and note that frequently throughout music history, drugs have been personified as a "her" or an unnamed lover, whether for poetic reasons or to evade censorship that might come from talking directly about drug use - and Cursed, off Strange Trails, is one more in-universe example, where "her" refers both to Leigh Green and to drug use, specifically vide noir).

Immediately afterward, Ancient Names Part 2, in addition to serving as a very classic sort of World Enders nihilism anthem, can easily be interpreted as Johnnie saying "fuck that, I do what I want, you only live one life anyway and even if it kills me, I want to make my mark before I go out." Death is something hypothetical - sure, it'll get him some day, it gets everyone, and maybe Moonbeam is even right, but he isn't going to let her warning stop him.

On Strange Trails, Buck and Johnnie cross paths at Dead Man's Hand. On this album they only cross thematically, and the pivotal moment of intersection might be Secret of Life. This song may be the point at which Buck learns some forbidden secrets revealed by taking vide noir as discussed above, but its lyrics speak a lot more specifically to Johnnie's experience, implying some connection between him, vide noir, and the World Ender.

It may be that as we see with Buck in the film, perhaps Johnnie too has suffered the effects of being black-brained prior to taking it due to the time and space-bending effects of the drug (notice, for example, in Strange Trails we get Johnnie's story in a scrambled chronological order) and here he's confronted with the harsh truths of what those past visions of his possible future mean for him: he has been set on a path that is no longer avoidable due to his eventual future overdose. So perhaps it's at this point that he acknowledges that he is going to die sooner rather than later and that his life and death will not have meant anything to the greater cosmos, but this information, which was new to Buck, is not something Johnnie fears. Johnnie is hardly new to this point of view. He's seen past echoes of the knowledge imparted by vide noir throughout his life, both in his future visions of the end of the world (again see Until The Night Turns) and in the knowledge passed on through other World Enders, including their own motto ("The fair, the brave, the good must die", or in Secret of Life here, "The darkness comes for all of us").

(As an aside, there's still a lot to unravel with Secret of Life that I haven't touched on here. It's a fascinating song with some really mysterious lyrics. I've speculated at length in the LH discord about some additional interpretations this song could yield but won't veer off topic here.)

And yet despite what looks like a very certain and dire end, Johnnie maintains hope that perhaps he, too, will live past this. Because if Cobb Avery did, why can't he? This is part of the gang's core mythos - their founder is a dead man. He clawed his way back out of the grave for revenge, they thought it was just so fucking cool that he was unkillable that they had to join him, and together they dismantled the Winthrop Corporation, one murder at a time. When the police finally caught up to him, they lynched him - but the noose did nothing, for he was already dead, and now in the form of a skeleton, he called the gang to his side (see Strange Trails: The World Ender comic book). In the ensuing chaos, he flees, the gang heads west and relocates to east Los Angeles, and in the time contemporary with the events of Vide Noir, he is still present among them but this appears to be unknown to the public (Daily Trails prop, by Kim Berens, used in both Vide Noir and Alive From Whispering Pines where it was modified to Ten years later).

Whether The World Ender is readily visible to and known by most members of the gang at this point is unknown, but we know that those who were black-brained can see him (in the film, Buck sees him approaching, bumps into him, plunges into a hallucination of his own future, and when he comes too, the Ender is gone). Given the Secret of Life lyrics, it's reasonable to guess that Johnnie at least can see the World Ender just fine and one way or another, in speaking with him and in conjunction with consuming vide noir, has learned enough secret knowledge to make some kind of choice - and this is what later enables him, too, to drag his way back to the world of the living.

Fate catches up to Johnnie and as we learn in the film, his death was at the hands of Z'Oiseau's henchmen for trying to gain access to dealing in vide noir. Like Buck, he is black-brained - forced to swallow enough of the drug to kill him. And so the track Vide Noir opens with the Fortune Teller's Theme previously heard in Ancient Names Part 1, and that tune is woven through the track - Moonbeam's "I warned you, I told you so" to both of these fools who disregarded her advice. Although, again, the lyrics are clearly meant primarily to narrate for Johnnie - "Many evils have I enjoyed, prowling the night raising hell with the boys, getting high on a pure black void" sounds a lot more like what Johnnie gets up to than Buck. We are given a glimpse of his last words and final thoughts as life slips away and his consciousness is sent straight to the final edge of the cosmos.

---

So ultimately, this is what we're left with:

Vide Noir is an album that tells the story of Buck Vernon, whose fiancee has left him. His journey culminates in a near-brush with death, in finding Leigh, and in learning that she does not love him and that he's nothing, his life is worth nothing more than dust and that none of it mattered or will ever matter, that once he eventually dies he will vanish and be forgotten in time.

Vide Noir also tells the story of Johnnie Redmayne, who for once tries to do something that isn't just for his own hedonistic pleasure but that might actually help bring in money to support his friends and family, but he's too headstrong and impulsive to listen to the warnings he's given, and is killed in the attempt.

One lives who probably shouldn't have and comes out at rock bottom and now has to work out how to move on from here, and one dies a nihilist who should presumably just accept the inevitability of death, but has the knowledge and absolute stubborn determination to enable his eventual return, following in the footsteps of Cobb Avery.

And what happens to both of them afterward? Well, we don't know. Hopefully some day (SOON?? BEN PLEASE) we'll get the opportunity to find out!

[thrfted]

꩜ DATING MR. CRAWLING .ᐟ

SFW GN!Reader HCS after the blissful love life ending.

Italics is in the other world’s language! Sometimes more the implied message rather than a direct translation. I'll probably do Mr. Hood later too :3 !

Your bed is much more comfortable than anything in the other world, and it only makes it better that mr. Crawling gets to be in it with you. He grows accustomed to your nightly routine and is always excited to cuddle up. Big spoon, little spoon, facing each other—all of it makes him as happy as can be!

(^ As someone who still has a twin size, some of us have to invest in a much bigger one lol)

Generally so so affectionate and loves when you’re physically affectionate !! You can kiss his head and he’ll giggle, maybe point at his face and ask “Again!” You leave kisses all over his face, and his hands pull you in close when you finally kiss his lips.

One of Mr. Crawling's strongest traits is his patience—especially when it comes to you. The first day you come home without him trailing behind (much to his dismay, and honestly yours), he’s at the door to greet you, smiling and giggling as you wrap your arms around him. You find out he hadn’t done much but wait for you to come home. (With no complaints of boredom on his part, and all the worry on yours.)

He'll sit as you play with his hair, trying out new hairstyles or putting in clips. “Me cute? Pretty?” he asks. And if you let him do the same in return, he'll giggle and compliment you too.

I think he’d look through your closet and enjoy watching you try on clothes too. He compliments you and feels each of the fabrics, liking the ones that feel softest. He might try on some of the accessories if none of the actual clothes (sort of…) fit, and is really happy when you match!

Mr. Crawling is a fast learner. You worry he'll feel overwhelmed with all the new technology and words and whatever else, so you focus on making sure he’s comfortable. But he points at things and ask what they are, repeating after you. “You teach me language?” he asks and you laugh softly before nodding. “I teach you language.”

He will accidentally touch a hot stove top or pot if you don't remember to warn him beforehand. Then whenever you cook he gets worried you'll hurt yourself, watching to make sure you're alright (forgive him if he pulls your hand away and says “Danger! Don't touch!”)

Since he doesn't know his birthday, you make the day you returned special instead! He's happy to just stay in with you, eating a good meal and watching or learning something new.

Mr. Crawling also learns when yours is and does his best to make it a good day for you too. He tries singing happy birthday and makes food with what you have at home, mimicking the meals he's seen you prepare.

You teach him how to call your phone while you're away. It's supposed to “be for emergencies,” but you both know he's going to call just to hear your voice, and who are you to complain?

I think he gets sad sometimes when he sees or hears you talking to friends—the way you communicate and laugh so easily compared to conversations with him. The other world's language itself is limited, and he hasn't learned enough of your own. You spend some evenings reassuring him, reminding him learning is a process, and it doesn't change your feelings!!

He does his best to learn on his own. You buy (exercise) books and show him shows for younger kids and he spends a lot of time alone with them, both to surprise you, and also just because he loves talking with you and wants to talk more and more.

The first time he speaks your language is a special day. After many days of calling out that you’re back, he decides to say it himself. “You home!” You almost drop everything in your hands, and that’s when he continues, “Miss you.” It feels odd hearing it in his voice, but he’s grinning so wide, and you won’t find out for a while just how excited and nervous he was waiting for you to get home.

One of Mr. Crawling’s favourite things to say and hear is “I love you.” Every time you say it, he gets all giddy and tries to get closer to you (as if that’s possible while already cuddling in bed). He says it a lot while you’re doing chores or really nothing, just to remind you and see you smile. There’s no way in his mind for those 3 words to lose their meaning, or become any less special.

[ganondoodle]

okay i do have to do a mini (i call it mini now.. this is just letting my feelings about it out, so its spelled agressively bc im just so .. frustrated ... also not hate to the studio or the people working on it .. obviously >_>) rant about arcane-

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR ARCANE SEASON 2

its the most beautiful show ever produced, i mean it, its style, fortiche's (the studio) style, is just .... impossibly pretty, 3d and 2d, the animation is just so GOOD, the designs largely (like 95%) are too, the acting and sound design, the voice acting (at least the english one) is so emotional and good, the show in general is just good ... until the last episode

i have my own problems with riot declaring arcane the new canon out of nowhere and for no good reason since it was, im very sure, never conceived to be that, its a reinterpreation and works best as such, now literally everything is once again completely messed up, no one knows whats real and what isnt, no champion or story is safe, especially with the weird hexcore bullshit potentially erasing the VOID (whish is like ... half on which the canon was built on tbh) AND hextech- multiple champions being impossible to exist now .... but thats not what i wanted to talk about

i was pretty on board with everything the show did, though i wasnt a big fan of the whole hexcore stuff, but it all spiraled so far out of control, it just kept making everything worse, also with bringing in the black rose and leblanc, it kept piling stuff onto the plate despite them already compressing everything so drastically; espeically regarding viktor, but i kept my hope up even after season 2s act 2 bc it still seemed 'fixable', though not easily so

what i liked about it (in its writing) despite its pacing issues was that it was rather .. self contained for the longest time, focused on the characters and the class struggle of piltover and zaun, and doing so rather well imo, like it did and said things i did not expect riot to let through

i was worried with the alternate universe stuff that came with the escalating hexcore bullshit but held onto hope even until episode 8 and then ...man .. the last episode ... the fuck was that- like i hate timetravel and multiverses and whatever but the thing with ekko was done rather neatly ... they made all those chaarcter models and sets just for that short stuff and really .. was of little use other than getting heimerdinger out of the picture as well lmao maybe he will get his own series to advertise for 200 dollar skins in league hahaaaa but i guess the main point was to give ekko the z-drive ... which feels alot like what i feared about them forcing it to comply with the characters in game ,,,, even though that wasnt for everyone like warwick was done SO dirty after giving me hope in act two

everythings focused on the hexcore/arcane shit, theres the black rose shit (honestly i think it was a mistake bringing them in too bc .. noxus is its entire own region with so many champs and story itself that got connected via ambessa .. which was a new character the show made up until they made her a champ now .. its just too much to put into this one show already going at a breakneck pace), mel doing her bit with them then bam she mage now which felt like a champion teaser more than an organic part of the story, especialyl with how hard it got pushed later (poor little riots gotta sell more game cosmetics uwu), jayce just taking over control again and everyone going with it, singed reviving stupid version victor via using vander/warwick WHO WAS STILL ALIVE AFTER ISHA BLEW HERSELF UP TO STOP HIM FROM KILLING EVERYONE (which was ALREADY pretty cheap, but i guess jinx had to be even more suicidal than she already was heehoo), dont even ask me HOW, viktor was just whoops from corpse to im a cocoon now, ambessa being so obsessed with it, the entire class struggle being """"solved"""" by piltover and zaun fighting stupid viktors weird ass robot shitheads together and then acting like giving sevika a seat at the council is the solution to it, half the cast just dying horribly for honestly no reason?? ORIANNA being now i guess some weird viktor robot but without the mindcontrol part and singed just kinda ... winning i guess by giving her cocoon some goo of stupid viktors cocoon

it just all ... turning from this so drama, character and class struggle thing into weird ass dimension hopping magical world war that all gets solved bc we fought together once uwu AND it being a fucking timeloop WITHIN what ONE episode? and that being the ENDING (i know i know the hexcore bs was building up throughout the show but it still felt so .. unearned and sudden ... )

also i got personal gripes with the 'ending' bc .. was it REALLY an ending like they kept saying?? was it?? viktor, jayce, heimerdinger, jinx are just disappeared i guess, mel going back to noxus- the fucking 'our story isnt over' tease???? the last minute appearance of swains fucking raven???? pecking at something blue and shining like idk a hex crystal??? SHUT UP i dont want more to come, this story should have had its self containing ending, not this open ended bullshit that just reeks of corporate meddling bc they want their game to connect to their popular show as much as possible now so we gotta bring in as many teases and connections to other champions YIPPIEEEEE (yelling)

also if jinx is dead, wow, what a way to end her story, the traumatized suicidal character being tortured and tortured especially after seemingly having something good for once (i liked act 2 except for its ending the most bc ... man jinx was so enjoyable there, i loved her dynamic with vi and isha and half wolf vander warwick with the beast and man struggle i love alot, that part was genuinely beautiful, i wasnt a fan of the idea of idk ekko doing time stuff and them having a happy ending bc i just dont like going back in time to fix everything kinda stuff, but i would have much much prefered that, not changing the existing story into the perfect world where everythings happy (though i liked that part ... vander silco being gay husbands like that is just so goood) but to fix what is fixable in the present- them still having gone through alot but being able to live with it, so act 2 setup was honestly my favorite way to not invalidate everything and still have something happy .... but no we gotta kill the kid to make jinx even worse and vander/warwick too while we are at it

if shes not dead (given you see a blimp(?) flying away and her scribbles showing up and caitlyn looking at the blueprints of the hexgates) then ... ??? oh yeah lets make her leave zaun and just idk go be the main character in noxus or soemthing for the next show they are gonna do bc jinx is popular so putting her everywhere is a good idea!!!1!!11

ALSO since vander/warwick is my favorite .. i thought maybe after isha doing that, if they dont reverse it, hed get taken by singed again or ran away and turned fully werewolf like he is in the game (though i would have liked if they were able to be a weird family like in act2)- but no he just gets used as fuel for stupid viktor cocoon and then mind erased and made into the ugliest weird robot thing that looks more like galio than him JUST and i feel like it really is JUST to have Vi at the end do the scene that gets jinx 'killed' .. to lead into the 'more to come' teaser.. idk about you but that scene felt so .. forced, the typical oh no platform is slowly falling down but Vi suddendly gets emotional about weird ugly robot warwick (who conveniently comes back to life as ugly robot beast since his human mind got erased but not the beast??? i guess???) and completely ignores jinx yelling at her to get to safety, it felt so WEIRD to me (if you gotta do him like that at least let Vi listen to jinx, them embracing and then watchign emotionally as robo vanderwick falls into the hexgate thing .. that was still active somehow i guess??)

(poor viktor got done so dirty too .. i liked him .. until it all went weird wit hthe hexcore stuff ....... ..... also jayce weird speech to him .. why the FUCK did you not do that back in the cult camp instead of blasting him to bits, i get it he was fucked up from seeing the future, but then later hes just ... okay???? pretty fine all things considered??? and pretty aware of everything?? also his weird speech being all like vitkor actually you were perfect in your imperfection BITCH HE WAS SLOWLY DYING AN AGONIZING DEATH???? idk ??? it all feels so weird to me, like there episodes literally missing- ambessa dying also felt so unnecessary .. just so mel can take her place and go to noxus and have more shows maybe- )

i just .... and just like how i cant enjoy botw anymore after them fucking it all up with totk ... i dont know if i will rewatch arcane knowing it ends like that, what was that for, the most beautiful show ever made just to do a game of thrones ending in a single episode?

im so tired of it all ..... im so tired of being disappointed and feeling let down over and over no matter with how little expectations i go in with

this willl be the only arcane rant unless theres some .. big stupid reveal that gets me more frustrated than i am now, which i hope there isnt .. im tired of being and feeling like this .. i just want to enjoy things, everythings going to shit IRL and i cant even find something enjoyable to watch

[sseomtada]

rear view (ruben dias)

gripped onto a sliver of inspiration i felt and this came out...not proofread. warnings: 18+, masked!ruben, taunting, praise, one use of the word sl*t (affectionately, i promise), a lil rough to gentle...

the sound of your heels meeting the wooden floor is prominent as you stagger into your flat blindly. a hand splays, fingers fanning wide to feel along the smooth wall for a light switch. flick - nothing.

though obviously not a fluke, you flip the switch a few times more to ensure that you’re not being dramatic. air leaves your lungs in a smooth rush while you continue along the dark path to resume your wind down routine.

work has been absolutely brutal. long hours, sitting stationary for endless amounts of time until you tailbone feels battered, and not nearly enough pay to be quite frank. you needed a vacation, or a lobotomy - whichever provides the most instant relief and gratification.

“snoogs?” you call calmly for your cat.

she gets so shy sometimes, but she loves the dark. it’s her hunting ground and you’re a helpless little ferret. every day must be a mind boggling adventure for her fur baby. or maybe you’re romanticizing it too much, delirious from lack of proper rest.

“snooogss?” your voice is a sing song.

around the bend to the living room you go and let your ears perk up to lock in. while your mind is dancing between reality and imagination, what was that in the corner, you hear a rustle and sudden a fur ball is launching at your chest.

with an oof, you catch her and stumble backwards. the sudden halt you come to isn’t from a wall as you would expect, but a hard, warm body. their broad chest expands with a slow inhale and you slowly let snoog melt from your hands.

“hi, princess.” fingertips grip into your waist, and tension falls from your frame as you recognize the timbre and feel. it’s just ruben.

“h-hi…” you don’t know what to say to stay in character, so you try to keep it as simple as possible.

bringing up this fantasy of yours really did a number on him. it had only been two days since you disclosed it during pillow talk and look at him now, ready to be nominated for his oscar.

“i’ve been watching you for some time,” he reaches an arm around your stomach and reels you right up against him. “you really ought to wear more than cropped shirts and panties when you walk by the windows.”

a hand slides up your thigh, the edges of his fingers toying with your underwear’s seam. you begin to seep into his petting. ruben is in sync with you, his hips drop to catch yours and push them back up.

“or not, cause you look so fucking hot.” an open mouth kiss lands on your lower neck. “so pretty, babygirl.” he starts undoing the closures on your top. “so fuckable.”

you bite out a moan you had been attempting to stifle. that gorgeous accent pairing with those nasty words beckon you to respond. you push back into him, skirt bunching up, rasping.

his hands roam you wildly and dangerously. one cups your hot cunt, squeezing until he feels it throb against his palm. the other alternates between massaging your breasts that he pulls free of your bra.

“that’s what you wanna do to me, hm?” your brows meet as you turn your head.

“mhmm…” ruben grazes the fabric of the mask covering his face across your cheek. “come here.”

you’re dragged over to the sofa where he crashes down harshly, pulling you to sit on his lap with your back to his front. ruben’s burning touch is back again. he has your legs spread wide, using his thighs to keep yours open while he circles your covered clit.

“shit!” your head drops against his shoulder.

“listen to that,” he chuckles, spanking the ruined seat of your panties. “why’re you already so wet, angel?”

“i’ve been-” you swallow thickly. “waiting for you.”

that makes him growl, pulling at your panties until they dig into your flesh. ruben tosses the stretched out fabric to the side and teases your hole with two fingers. you buck into them hungrily.

“can you be good and take my fingers like this?” ruben thrusts them into your pussy to the knuckle and your eyes disappear. he doesn’t stop there, fucking them into you every time he asks, “like this, like this, like this?”

“oh, fuck…” your hips start to rock onto them for more friction.

“not an answer-”

“yes!”

you surge upwards to catch his lips between your own. it’s carnal and possessive and claiming the way your tongue rolls over his. your words fall down the rabbit hole into him in between deep breaths, yes i can be good, i can be good.

“i know you can. maybe you should close the curtains when you play with yourself, too.” ruben nips at your earlobe.

god, how is he so good at this? he’s never been shy with his words, much less when you have sex, but tonight is another level. if you had to guess, you would say that he’s certainly done his homework.

“need you in me…” you whimper.

“aww, look at you.” ruben swipes his free thumb over your bottom lip, dragging the skin slowly. “i need to feel you squeezing and shaking. then, we can move on.”

a gushiness fills the air as he fills you powerfully with his digits. you’re nothing short of a mess, legs trying to close on instinct and his forcing them open wider for the same reason. you grasp out wildly, hands eventually settling behind his neck where a bit of his hair peeks out of his mask.

“let it go, princess. just like that.” he laughs into your ear, curling and pumping relentlessly.

it feels more like you are the one getting let go of. the rope you cling to snaps and you’re free falling. terrified initially, but accepting and gaining pleasure from the weight pressing down on your tummy.

you scream with a filthy grin, fuck, you’re gonna make me sq-

and the weather changes right on cue. your hips lift just above his, one hand dropping to his thigh and the next flying to flick at your clit as you rain down. soft patters fall onto your helpless wooden floor. it creaks too with the force of ruben handling you roughly to face him.

“good fucking girl…” he praises, yet spanks you.

another scream that melts from terror to erotic erupts from your throat. he smooths where his blow lingers as you rut over his bulge, running his basketball shorts. not that he seems to mind with the way he’s pushing it up into you too.

“if you saw me touch myself, you’ve seen me ride dick before too, right?” now that you’ve cum, you’re no longer as needy as before.

ruben knows this about you and you suspect it’s the reason he decides to go about tonight they way that he is. the light is so dim in here, but you see his eyes glint mischievously. and he calls you a brat.

“gonna do me like that, huh?” he sucks your breast and reaches down to free himself. “show me, pretty girl. show me, fuck-”

his words end up in his throat as you swallow him whole. so snug and warm tucking into your walls, you sigh with content. you let yourself just feel him, hips circling slowly to get your bearings.

your stomach tenses as you lift up and down his cock. he swears lowly in portuguese, rubbing up your ass to your waist. his hands slowly leave your body completely to settle on the back of the sofa.

“come on, then.” he smacks your ass again. “fuck me like a little slut.”

you shake your head and laugh, ready to give it to him even more since he’s begging so much. your grip settles firmly over his corded shoulders and you get onto your toes on the floor. soon, you’re bouncing on it. the sound of your soaking cunt working his shaft steadily and your gasps and his groans-it’s already too fucking much.

“that’s it,” ruben marvels. “take that fucking cock.”

oh, he wants you to take it? you bring your feet up to the sofa, legs a big wider, and grab onto the back of his neck. your pussy grips him, tip to base, tucking and squeezing at the bottom to feel the way the slight curve in his cock presses right to that spot.

“oh, shit, baby.” he needs his hands to come back to control your movements.

if you continue doing that one, he’ll be planning a baby shower in a few months. which, let’s be real, you might end up doing anyway because there’s no way he’s pulling out tonight.

ruben thrusts up to meet you as you come down and you quiver around him. you’re so close again you can feel the rope fraying beneath your hold. full surrender is instant this time, you welcome the fall as he spurs you on.

your cries pierce the room and he’s hugging your lower back in a vice grip while he fucks you into senselessness. another unpredicted shower. you drip down his legs and want to apologize, but his awe and praise shut you off.

can’t believe this is all for me

ruben nestles your body to the sofa and joins you, pulling you face to face. well, face to mask. his eyes look so dark behind them as he drinks you in. mouthful gulps until you’re dripping down his chin.

you grab his jaw and kiss him as he sheaths himself in you again. the leg you have draping over his hips tugs him closer, opening you up some more too. ruben grabs your ass and spreads you out more so.

“yes…nice and deep.” your eyes cross.

“want me to cum, hm?” he tucks himself as far as possible. “right here at the back of your pretty cunt?”

all you can do is groan and nod furiously. if you could speak, though, you would say please, please fill me up. make it yours over and over again, please, i need to feel your warm cum in me.

ruben gets the message. he can see it in the way your eyes glaze over and your back bows into his palm. the way your bottom lips quivers and your grow several degrees warmer, steaming up his flesh as you squeeze and squeeze…

until he’s making good on his promise and shooting all the possible little additions to the diaz clan up your stream. you suck them in, hoping it’s helping and not hurting their efforts, but delighting in the feeling anyway.

ruben hums and lazily strokes into you. having had enough of the mask, you reach up and remove it, fluffing out his messy hair on the way down. his eyes are droopy as he stares at you.

“was that okay? are you alright?” he blinks slowly.

you grin with a light laugh, “i’m so good right now. you were incredible.”

his thumb strokes your cheek, “you’re so perfect.”

that’s one thing you’re never gonna argue with. you lay there for not too long before both drifting asleep in the same position. and when you wake up in a few hours, you meet him stiff and you’re ready to go all over again.

[weptsorrow]

while ivan's features remained indifferent, there was an undeniable spark of anger boiling beneath the surface. he didn't experience such strong emotions often, let alone allowed them to show, but seeing his best friend be grabbed and mistreated like this was the one thing that never failed to bring them forth. he didn't flinch at the display of blood or bones seemingly cracking, till crying out, even if he hated hearing them. there was nothing he could do.

mizi's pod was right next to his own, and it was the one thing that separated him from till, and he'd noticed that in the last few seconds before the younger had lost consciousness, his eyes were looking for her. not the raven-haired man; no. it was like he was little more than a ghost. it didn't matter— ivan was used to this. he just found it curious that even in his last breath, mizi was the one last hope till tended to cling to.

it didn't take long for the remaining survivors to be taken backstage once more— it was ivan's turn to sing now, and as he entered the dressing room, he found himself... alone. with till knocked out and mizi unwilling to talk to anyone, two other contestants dead, and luka was who knows where, while marty was in the adjacent room rehearsing some lines in these last few moments; he could hear the man singing.

“ ... ” the loneliness didn't bother him; if anything, he found the irony of it amusing. it always came back to this. ivan had no friends, no one rooting for him. he imagined that if he died, unsha would just be mad about all the money he'd lost by betting it all on the wrong dog. and probably couldn't face urak after this; he remembered hearing about their scuffle. what was even more ironic was that ivan had found a liking in his owner's rival's pet. if they knew, they'd probably be even more mad than about the potential lost investments.

he stepped over to the mirrors, fixing his hair, flashing a few smiles with a tilt of his head... but perhaps this wouldn't be neccessary, given the song's nature. perhaps he could be himself, just this once. as he was looking at his reflection, dead eyes with a glint of red, he heard the beginning of the countdown, breaking the white noise— further complaints about till ruining everything again. it was a good thing their guardians were relegated to the audience, so they weren't here to punish their pets by whatever means they deemed neccessary... but somehow, in some way, ivan swore he could hear urak's yelling through all that.

the man sighed, and tugged on each of his gloves and adjusted the belts on his thigh, before shifting his gaze towards his opponent who'd just joined him in the room. ivan said nothing, and simply headed for the elevator. he wasn't nervous as they began to rise up. his eyes were focused on the microphone stand in front of him, allowing for them to close as the first rays of light hit his face with the saturn-inspired stage opening above him. a step forward was taken; he heard the first beats of drums. slender fingers slid up the silver stand before wrapping around the microphone itself, and he pulled it closer to him with one final breath.

the soggy darkness crouched down even if we shake our heads, it's always the same place i can't reach you, so i imagine alone you who shines, i stand next to you

ivan sang for himself; there was no one listening. the crowd didn't matter, his so-called father didn't matter, the remaining contestants didn't matter, and... till, well— he didn't care, ivan knew. the only reason why he needed to sing this well was to ensure that in till's following round, nothing could go wrong and make him lose. he didn't know if he hated this or not— the stage was pretty, he loved the stars. but it oh-so made him remember things. he loved the stars... but he also hated them.

marty sang his part next and... ivan was convinced he could deliver the lyrics much better than that. another breath, and he grasped the microphone with a newfound vigor, singing the next lines of the chorus with something he thought repressed. an emotion he couldn't quite describe; but it left him wanting.

so black, black as it can be the dark sea gets deeper as you approach like a black, black sorrow a story of such woe at the end of this story, there is only a cold spot stained with blood and empty air

memories resurfaced, ones that bitterly reminded him of all the things he'd done in hopes of being noticed, of being liked back... and the anger that came with never receiving it. anger was so easy to pinpoint, so easy to identify. much more than something as vague as love. ivan's voice turned raw with the intensity he was singing; maybe the audience did matter. maybe, just maybe, someone that cared would hear him.

it was then that he noticed the holograms of the stars of this elaborate stage falling— he turned his gaze up towards them, reminiscent of the time he'd almost died, and the time till had turned his back to him.

it was beautiful.

holding the microphone in one hand, the other rose up, reaching out towards that illuminated void, as if he could touch those stars, as if they could possibly bring him some salvation— but they were all far too out of reach... the fact that they were mere projections didn't even cross ivan's mind in that moment. he just wanted. wanted, wanted, wanted.

such black, black sorrow to me you are to me, you are my black sorrow you are my black sorrow you are my black sorrow

the score board had then settled on a distinct score difference of 90—68, and amidst the last few chords of the piano, ivan could hear the piercing sound of a bullet; and the bull thud of a body hitting the floor right next to him. he didn't look marty's way, solely staring down onto the audience cheering. in the front row, he could make out unsha and his ever-present bodyguards. and ivan didn't feel anything. no sense of pride nor accomplishment. it was just a deed done; a neccessity. there was no revelling for him in their cheers and applause, before he turned his back to them all to make space for the final round of the night.

  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎she  had  remained  unresponsive  since  the  end  of  her  round,  her  body  still  as  a  statue,  golden  hues  dull  and  vacant,  reflecting  none  of  the  light  that  had  once  danced  in  them  —  the  exact  thing  till  had  been  playing.  even  after  her  face  had  been  meticulously  cleaned,  she  gave  no  sign  of  acknowledgment,  her  features  eerily  serene.  deposited  unceremoniously  in  the  observation  pods,  she  found  herself  an  unwilling  spectator,  bound  to  watch  a  spectacle  she  no  longer  wished  to  be  part  of.  the  muffled  strains  of  another  song  floated  effortlessly  into  the  room  —  but  mizi  didn’t  listen.  she  couldn’t.

‎ ‎ ‎it’s  only  when  the  large  screen  suddenly  flickers,  illuminating  the  room  in  harsh  flashes  of  red  and  as  it  cuts  to  till  that  her  head  sluggishly  lolls  upward.  her  eyes,  still  unfocused,  take  in  the  image  of  the  younger  man  —  his  guitar  raised  high  above  his  head  like  a  weapon.  she  watches,  detached,  as  he  brings  it  crashing  down  with  a  ferocity  that  makes  the  instrument  splinter  organs  spilling  out.

  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ — a  cacophony  of  voices  erupts  in  the  room,  a  discordant  symphony  of  anger  and  disgust.  a  colourful  array  of  curses  fills  the  air,  each  word  shouted  venomously,  slurs  spat  with  unfiltered  hatred  against  non-human  beings.  robotic  hands  descend  swiftly,  their  cold,  metallic  grip  unyielding  as  they  shove  till  toward  the  exit.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he  kicks  out  hard,  barefoot  smashing  against  metal,  but  his  resistance  is  brief.  another  claw  latches  onto  his  arm,  twisting  painfully,  while  a  third  seizes  his  leg,  forcing  him  to  stumble.  a  sickening  pop  echoes  through  the  room  as  his  shoulder  is  wrenched  too  far  back,  and  a  sharp  cry  escapes  his  lips.  still,  the  limbs  are  relentless,  pinning  his  arms  tightly  against  his  sides  as  a  bulky  restraint  is  slammed  around  his  torso,  cinching  him  inescapably.  a  muzzle  follows,  clamped  over  his  mouth  with  a  brutal  efficiency  that  leaves  no  room  for  protest.

  ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎teal  hues  flash  with  fury,  darting  around  wildly,  searching  for  any  way  to  keep  fighting.  but  before  he  can  find  one,  his  head  is  shoved  unceremoniously  against  the  glass  of  his  observation  pod,  the  faint  green  glow  casting  shadows  across  bloodied  features.  through  the  haze  of  pain,  he  catches  a  glimpse  of  movement  —  long,  pink  hair  shimmering  like  silk  under  the  lights.  his  gaze  freezes  momentarily,  and  he  almost  sees  her  face.  she’s  looking  his  way,  he’s  sure  of  it  —  but  the  connection  slips  away  as  quickly  as  it  comes.

‎ ‎the  door  to  the  pod  hisses  open,  and  till  is  thrust  inside  with  a  force  that  hits  him  against  the  front  of  the  glass.  his  head  pounds,  thoughts  spiralling  in  dizzying  loops,  each  one  more  fragmented  than  the  last.  his  body  feels  too  heavy, strength  drained,  and  though  he  knows  she’s  there,  watching  him  from  across  the  divide,  he  can’t  muster  the  will  to  lift  his  head.

[twinksintrees]

hey. hey bears in trees. you cant write this shit when my best friend plans on moving away across the ocean. it’s too soon for this.

[seaofreverie]

I'm back and Guys they played my favourite song they played where your eyes don't go and they played spy and last wave and the darlings of lumberland and let me tell you about my operation and

[wretchie]

why tf am i in choir i can't even sing