#pick a draft any draft

[mosspapi]

Able-bodied people remember the existence of words such as debilitating, incapacitating, draining, all-consuming, overwhelming, destructive, drastic, limiting, disruptive, excruciating, etc. instead of using a fucking slur challenge: difficulty level impossible

[al-luviec]

something simple to try to get out of art block (it didn't work)

[hum--hallelujah]

"I'm sick of always writing songs for you to slit your wrists to" little did Pete know then that someday we would see him happy and decide to put down the blade

[jovenshires]

THE BATTLE OF THE BANDS AU OFFICIAL SOUNDTRACK

THE BEST OF THE CHOSEN

the chosen is an alternative rock band, whose members are spencer agnew (lead singer / secondary guitarist), shayne topp (lead guitarist), damien haas (bassist / vocalist), and courtney miller (drummer / vocalist). known for their iconic guitar riffs and heavy bass lines, the band has been accused of relying heavily on their instrumentals to distract from their lead singer's vocal insecurity, to which they have not disagreed. hit songs include "short kings," "i was there man," and "nuclear rain." the band is inspired by the early 2000's alternative movement, specifically weezer, green day, and simple plan.

THE BEST OF FTC

ftc (short for full-time cast) is an indie trio known for their slow melodies and sad lyrics. their songs, typically written by their lead singer tommy bowe, are often explicitly queer, romantic, and yearning, though they also frequently feature themes of self-doubt and internal struggle. other members of the band are amanda lehan-canto (singer / guitarist) and kimmy jimenez (drummer / occasional background singer). with songs such as "creekside killer," "reading of the will," and "bones," ftc is inspired by artists such as boygenius, hozier, and mitski.

THE BEST OF KOLIVTION

kolivition is a hip-hop duo fronted by keith leak jr. (singer / rapper) and backed by olivia sui (pianist / dj / sound mixer). they incorporate r&b, funk, and rap into their music as well, with their soulful beats and psychedelic sounds. kolivition's songs typically revolve around romance in the modern world. the duo's hit songs include "life's a party," "give me all your money," and "bobby from the block." kolivition is inspired by childish gambino, frank ocean, and kendrick lamar.

THE BEST OF COVENTRY

coventry is a female-led punk band consisting of erin dougal (singer / guitarist), heidi ha (singer / drummer), and selina garcia (singer / bassist). they typically theme their songs around female empowerment and relationships - romantic, platonic, or otherwise. their hit songs include "sluts," "sunflower," and "wish i could (say the same)." they are inspired by paramore, no doubt, and veruca salt.

THE BEST OF LET'S DO THIS

let's do this, though a relatively new band, is an enthusiastic underdog pop trio. its members, chanse mccrary (lead singer / guitarist), angela giarratana (bassist / vocalist), and arasha lalani (drummer / vocalist), are clearly tuned into the pop scene and thus make current, upbeat, snappy music that is practically made for the radio, even if it's yet to take off. their songs rely heavily on romance, and are often either explicitly queer or gender-neutral. their top tracks are "i lied," "lost the room," and "coroner." ldt is based off of artists such as conan gray, maisie peters, and troye sivan.

THE BEST OF SMOSH

smosh is a moden reinvention of an early 2000's pop-punk / alternative duo. back after a 6-year hiatus and preparing to win a competition they've already lost, ian hecox (singer / bassist), anthony padilla (singer), and their rotating backup band are re-entering both battle of the bands and mainstream. their music centers around personal identity and how that identity affects one's relationships. though they are re-inventing their sound, smosh was and is still known for their heavy instrumentals and all-star vocals. hit songs include "shut up," "the sun," and "destiny," and the band was based off of twenty one pilots, fall out boy, and panic! at the disco.

THE BEST OF JACKIE UWEH

jackie uweh - also known as the most talented voice of our generation - is an r&b / soul singer who sells out football stadiums with her powerhouse vocals. her songs often feature themes of feminism, romantic relationships, and a continuous journey of self-discovery. this is her first year judging battle of the bands, and, according to her, hopefully not her last. jackie's hit songs include "buggin'," "over easy," and "been with." she is inspired by beyonce, rhianna, and lizzo.

THE BEST OF MYTHICAL

mythical, which consists of rhett mclaughlin (singer / guitarist) and link neal (singer / guitarist) and their fantastic backing band, is a country band notable for having won battle of the bands ten years ago. since then, they have created their own empire, complete with a record label and several signed artist - previously including ian hecox of smosh fame. though they are a country band, mythical is also known to incorporate alternative genres into their music, especially their most recent album, which has been by far their most controversial in terms of sound. their musical themes vary, sometimes instead focusing on story-telling rather than relatability, but typically they utilize love (romantic, platonic, and familial), religion, and self-expression and exploration. their songs include "will it?," "buddy system," and "let's talk about that." they are inspired by james and the shame, noah kahan, and the lumineers.

THE BEST OF TREVOR

trevor (that's it, just trevor) is a soundcloud-based rapper who's honestly just happy to be here. an up-and-coming (read: thus unsuccessful) artist, trevor is a part-time musician and a part-time sound designer and editor. after working on mythical's latest album, he was invited to emcee the battle of the bands and is ecstatic at the chance to promote himself. trevor focuses on the self-described subgenre "meme rap," which views modern life through a comical gen z lens. his songs include "another banger," "silly guy," and "o7," and he is based on yung gravy, yungblud, and danny gonzalez.

[comatosebunny09]

It goes something like this:

You’re a little bruised and battered. A little rough around the edges, yearning for the comfort of your bed. Maybe some brandy to chase away the ache and mask the throbbing between your ears, but…

Well, he’d sent for you. Of course he did. You’d barely stumbled back into Baldur’s Gate when he received word of your resurgence—gods damn his spies for occupying every nook and cranny of this city.

He could’ve at least granted you the luxury of a cold shower beforehand. Maybe even a change of clothes and the acrid sting of a beer at the back of your throat. You’ve just endured training from hell and deserve to push it all into the darkest reaches of your mind.

But nooo.

He wants to see you. Now. As if the stars will fall from the sky if you don’t show face. Given his might and overabundance of magic, he could very well make that happen.

So, here you stand. Before the towering, oakwood doors of the king’s quarters, a little worse for wear, a little over this shit.

Your uniform’s heavy and mottled with dirt. You’re still sweaty. Still achy, grinding your teeth and shifting your weight between your feet to take the pressure off them. Your exhaustion outweighs everything, burdensome on your shoulders like the buckles and leather ornaments dangling from your cloak.

You look and feel like utter shit, for lack of better terms. Not like it matters. He’s seen you at your worst and still beckoned you with a crooked smile and the curl of his elegant finger. And you always come running like the ever-faithful guard dog, exhaustion be damned.

The frigid metal of the door handles sends a shiver through your bones. Cold. Grounding. Much like him.

You heave a sigh. Your shoulders slump, and your head thuds softly against the door as you contemplate your life choices. Perhaps you were better off a street urchin, peddling stolen goods and picking pockets. At least then, you’d have the blessing of a night’s rest.

A few maids scuttle by, tickled by the pathetic scene you paint. In your peripheral, they wear omniscient grins as they pass you, and their giggles and whispers linger long after they turn the corner.

Like it’s some secret known to everyone else but you onwhy you’re here. Not in bed. Not licking your wounds and nursing your migraine with cheap booze.

Ugh.

You should be grateful. Not many have the privilege of being summoned to the king’s chamber. You’ve been here more times than you can count. More than the maids, his royal advisors.  

You’re typically around for business, standing in good form on the other side of the doors. Quiet, attentive, obedient, loyal. You have to be. Your life is literally bound to his. 

He’s your charge—your king. 

You’ve seen him bleed. Trance. Sweat. Cry on rare occasions. He has kissed you. Touched you. Written the sweetest words into the junction of your shoulder with a sweltering mouth. Fed on you. Promised the best of things as he nibbled on your lip.

You’ve held his hand. Ran cautious fingers through alabaster curls. Whispered words of admiration into the stilled air of his room. You’ve been his confidant more than his bodyguard. Experienced segments of him his subjects could only dream of witnessing.

You count to five in your head. Grip the handles, your shoulder blades tensing, nails digging into the meat of your palms. The doors creak open with some effort, granting you a cool gust of wind on your tired, fevered skin.

Whatever conversation was taking place before your grand entry peters, and there are suddenly two sets of eyes regarding you with different levels of interest as you stand, weary and bone-tired, in the entryway.

Gale’s lips quirk into an awkward smile, brows creasing with sympathy as he cautiously rounds the desk. “Erm, how was your training?”

“Shit,” you answer quickly. Flatly.

Gale blinks, utterly floored by your brazenness. Then again, you’ve never been one to filter yourself in the royal advisor’s presence. Doesn’t help that you’re exhausted and itching for a bath.

Astarion arches a humored brow. ‘Atta girl,’ reads the proud twinkle in his eye.

Gale chuckles uncomfortably, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Like you two are poised to pounce on him. “Er, right. My apologies for your…hardships.”

You shrug. “I survived. Got my ass kicked around a few times, but I’m here.”

The clearing of a throat draws your attention to your king. You straighten. “Right. Well, as riveting as this conversation has been, I think it’s time we wrap this up.”

Gale casts Astarion a pensive look. “Your Majesty, there is still much to discuss. The peace treaties, the plans for reconstruction. We’ve staved this off long enough.”

Astarion scoffs, rolling his eyes. Hands thrown up in dramatic flair. “Well, stave it off longer,” he commands, ushering Gale towards the entry of his quarters. “I’ve more…pressing matters to attend to.”

You don’t miss how Astarion’s mouth twitches when his eyes skim over you. Feel it tingling beneath your skin.

Halfway to the door, Gale looks between you and the king, fully aware of the implications of that statement. “Right. By pressing, you mean someone will be pressed up against a—”

“Get out!”

[tswwwit]

[About the ask where you said that dipper blurted out "I'm pregnant" To bill and his immediate response is panic]

Does this mean that bill has impregnated someone??? Or the other way around??

Bill's never sired or sprouted any offspring, and has no intention of doing so!

Dipper was pulling a prank, and it worked very well - because Bill's been around the block enough to not dismiss the supposedly 'impossible'.

[puckpocketed]

as promised here is my follow up ask on PLD and the caps!! (this time...as a doctor 😎)

first of all thank you so much for the detailed response you gave my first ask. it confirmed a lot of suspicions i had about his supposed character issues and his usage in LA. obviously he's not a perfect player (few are) (except nicklas backstrom, my beloved), but seems like there's a disconnect between the way the media/fan narrative paints him and what's actually happening on the ice and in the locker room.

second of all!! just some kinda ramble-y thoughts based on some of the things you said in the first ask. this is not organized well and i'm sorry (but hopefully it's helpful info to you as you come over to caps land for a bit this season)

(1) Takings Shifts Off. totally agree with you that pld is and always will be viewed through the lens of The Shift. there are definitely players that regularly take shifts off and don't get dogpiled for it, esp. during the regular season (...see Ovechkin, Alex...especially in his old man era! gotta conserve energy). i am very curious to see if pld is like ovi in that he takes shifts off sometimes during the regular season but never the playoffs. from the little we've seen of pld in the playoffs my impression (esp when he played for CBJ) is that he elevates his game. i'm curious to see if he's really got that second gear...but caps gotta make the playoffs first.

(2) A Driver of One's Own. very interesting that in the answer to the last ask you said pld is not exactly the kind of player who drives his own line. this caught my eye bc it's a bit part of the problem w/ finding a center for ovi with backy gone...nowadays, O can't fully drive his own line anymore. he's just not fast enough, regularly (though he can turn it on in key moments). the legs just aren't there as much anymore, he can't really carry the puck in the way he used to, etc. BUT!!! he still has the best shot in the game (sorry auston), so absolutely ELITE triggerman. i'm wondering if pld could like...meet him halfway, i guess. like if TOGETHER they could drive the line. Hmmmm...

(3) Power Play!! everything you said about pld on the PP is promising. if he thrives most net front, then i genuinely think that position is there for the taking. i'm sure they'll try him in the old backstrom/kuznetsov QB spot on the right halfwall but there is a 0% chance our coach doesn't try a few things with the PP, including putting pld in different spots. i wouldn't be surprised if we started off having a weak PP that found its groove as the season went on.

(4) HCSC. our head coach is going to do literally everything in his power to make pld succeed. very communicative coach. last season he started out with an up-tempo system, and then switched to slower defense-first once he realized his personnel was just too slow/old to really pull all that off. with 1/3 of our roster now turned over and filled with players in their 20s, we're gonna see a VERY different capitals team from last year. i'm sure there will be growing pains but...they mystery is exciting, instead of terrifying, for once!!!

third of all!! just wanted to say thanks again for the detailed response to the third ask, and welcome to caps-land. it's a fun time over here. hope you're really looking forward to seeing what the hell our chaotic gremlins are going to do (as long as it makes penguins fans rage and cry, i am happy!!)!!! :)

okay this reply is getting crowded so ill just stick it all under the cut. here is a fun preview:

the media+fan narrative disconnect is SO real!!! i knowww with the amount of players the league has to cover, the sheer length of a regular season and all that happens during, plus the whole....society-wide erosion of journalism as a field... it can be hard for media to keep up, but it's been pretty startling to see their fallibility so... plainly? don't think i have the One Final Truth about Dubois but i think we're likely closer to it than anything the mainstream narratives are saying. i do get that their profits and clicks per/ are greatly increased via if they have a bent toward sensationalism... podcasters, youtube creators, people tweeting... they kinda have to operate like this because thats what the (gags) market and algorithm and audiences crave. does NOT mean i like it. ugh.

bleak reflections on journalism aside, im sitting here and gorging myself on this ask ouhhh thank uuu (for those playing along at home here are manifesto 1 and manifesto 2) and nodding along SO vigorously to all of these... we're having GALAXY brained discussions on here the likes of which spittin chiclets could never even dream of....................

(1) agreed agreed. he MUST be horse-bonded to his team i truly believe this with my whole heart (as in, he's gotta know his role + be comfy). otherwise, no other comment. I DID make that meme though because i was having a laff about Ovechkin conserving energy lkajsdkljajkl

(2) SUPER inchresting that you mention Ovi's lack of footspeed... i know a failhorse who can provide this 👀 we may be cooking something here... more than the sum of their parts kind of vibe?? Dubois has the youth and speed and muscle... he's just been hamstrung by quality of wingers.... and if as you say Ovi needs a hand carrying the puck; well.... 👀👀👀 don't want to put all my eggs in that basket though, I think it would be unfair of us to demand that of him... BUT if it works... oughhhhh i AM hopeful. SO hopeful.

(3) obsessed with this faith in your power play coaches (<- voice of a guy who watched ducks hockey) and their willingness to change things up is soooo nice to hear. NOT a fan of teams bashing their heads against a wall when their special teams clearly aren't working.

(4) and finally, I'm loving everything I hear about Spencer Carbery. i think Dubois has the allure of an wounded animal in the wild (a horse, even) or perhaps a moody teen girl with a hidden darkness in her heart <3 what im saying is, if he doesn't work it out now he's probably always gonna be one of those players every coach looks at and thinks "I could fix him". Carbs on record saying he could tame this wild creature??

link, archive link

hooting, hollering, etc.

Thank you for such a wonderful, warm welcome!! Everyone in caps land has been so lovely... the vibes.. the VIBES!!! peace and love for pens followers but i did in fact choose a side in your Foreverwar ... (my hockey girlbestie actually likes both teams which i find SO fun. the pens are my babygirl-in-laws!) anyway my heart does not divide.... it only swells.... much like the beaugtiful and noble salary of any 30 y/o RHD going into free agency <3 i have enjoyed chatting to caps fans like yourself immensely, and i look forward to hitting the trenches with everyone during regular season !!!

[dire-vulture]

Florabrisa Top 10 Hottest Dragons based on my own taste for bears/charismatic bad boys......

[get-more-bald]

being a tf2 fan has you searching shit like "us draft 1968" "us military drafts" "wars united states participation" "vietnam war drafts"

[alilbatflies]

I wrote a short continuation of this amazing prompt by @thepenultimateword, which goes as follows:

“What are you doing?”

Alex jolted violently, nose still buried in the watermelon musk of Ben’s hoodie as they whirled around.

“Uhhh…”

Ben stared dryly between their open locker and Alex’s wide eyes.

Alex held the hoodie out in front of themself, face suddenly twisting in confusion. “Wait, a minute, this isn’t mine. Did I get the wrong locker?”

The scrutinized the numbers a few seconds before clapping their hand dramatically to their forehead. “Will you look at that, I’m in the wrong row! Sorry, Ben, I’ll see you later.”

Alex went to march away but was promptly caught by the collar of their shirt and yanked a couple stumbling steps backward. “You still have my jacket.”

“Oh.” Their cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and displeasure. “So I do.”

They reluctantly let the soft fabric fall back into Ben’s long, scar-nicked fingers and bustled away before their coworker could ask something stupid like: “Why were you sniffing my clothes?”

They should have walked faster.

...

for sake of clarity and my sanity (seeing the word henchman so many times while editing nearly melted my brain), I named those two:

Henchman A = Alex, Henchman B = Ben

... ... ...

Avoiding someone who works for the same person as them was... Manageable. 

Alex would know, for they managed to avoid Ben for all of two weeks despite their shared tasks, appointments and whatnot. 

Were they caught sniffing Ben's clothes again? Not yet. At some point Alex assumed Ben knew and just rolled with it. Which was odd, since Ben never rolled with anything, spare the orders from their boss. 

And yes, they could just say your scent helps my powers calm so uh... thanks but wouldn't that just be the creepier? Openly admitting it wasn't Ben they were fixated on, but their smell? How fucked up was that.

Besides. A rational, well-mannered, unimpressed Ben. Getting their quirks and unexplained tendencies. Not happening.

Alex prepared for all alternatives, avoiding serious conversation and hiding behind excuses to leave the moment work was done. See that spider on the ceiling? Gotta go. Bye. It wasn't their best but it worked despite all the confusion that it caused.

What Alex did not factor with was outside of work. 

Much like seeing a teacher at a grocery store was odd, seeing Ben leaning against their apartment door hit them like a mirage. Not quite there. Not quite right. A miracle kind of pleasant surprises, except somehow out of place and chilling in its suspiciousness.

Ben nodded at them in greeting, unimpressed eyes focused with unfair intent. They meant business when they looked like that.

Alex was so screwed. 

“Good evening.” 

Alex's head reeled at the greeting. Deep and quiet, yet perfectly clear. Politely blank, just there. 

Manners, Alex. Your fucking manners.

“Evening,” was all they managed, searching for their keys. They had to find out what Ben was doing there. “Thought you lived downtown?”

“Thought we had things to discuss the boss doesn't need to be involved in.”

Alex's blood ran cold. They swallowed. It helped nothing. 

Ben tilted their head to a side. “Don't we?”

“I guess.” Alex was pretty sure their voice did something weird. They gestured inside once they managed to open the door. After you, except they didn't say it, because they would stutter for sure.

Ben slipped inside, waiting for them to pass by only to follow close behind. Maybe they didn’t know which flat Alex lived in exactly. Maybe they did but didn’t want to be obvious about it. Maybe they wanted to make sure Alex wouldn’t bolt.

Alex let them slip into their flat without comments. Their mind chanted a really not helpful chain of I’m dead, I’m dead, I’m dead.

“So.” Ben looked around curtly. They leaned against the door.

Alex considered inviting them further in. They also considered Ben’s stance and decided maybe Ben would take it as an attempt to avoid the conversation, and so they fiddle with the straps of their bag and waited.

The realisation that Ben was effectively blocking the way out really did nothing to calm them down.

“You’re avoiding me.” Ben tilted their head again, focused look studying every shift in Alex’s expression, no doubt reading them like an open book. “Is it because of the locker accident?”

Accident. Not on purpose. Alex nodded their head perhaps a little too vehemently.

Ben didn’t look like they were quite buying that. “What were you doing there?”

“Uhhh…”

One would think two weeks was a reasonably long time to think of an excuse. One would be wrong.

Alex did not have an excuse ready. There were really not that many plausible, normal-looking excuses for being addicted to someone’s scent.

Ben looked like they wanted to talk again. It startled Alex’s brain back into function. They didn’t think they could handle anything that came out of Ben’s mouth next.

“I have the same hoodie at home,” Alex blurted, “it just… smelled different.” Lies. “Different but good.” Oh gods, shut up.

Ben was staring into their eyes and somewhere behind, presumably scanning their soul and weighting how well they could hide their body from everyone and their absence from their employer.

“It uhhh… caught me off guard.”

“What about all the other times, then?”

Alex felt their soul leave their body. They know about the other times. They needed to sit down. They didn’t think they were getting such chance.

Ben let them suffer in silence. They reached into their bag, searching for something.

Alex closed their eyes, hoping that whatever it was, it would at least kill them quickly. I won’t have to clean the mess if I’m dead. It was a small reassurance.

“Here.”

Alex blinked. Their vision was not blurry and it was not tears. They blinked a few times and finally managed to focus on what Ben was holding out to them.

“Shampoo…” they managed weakly. It was two bottles… Watermelon scented shampoo and shower gel. They were smelling those clothes. Right.

“You could have just asked, you know?”

Alex laughed. It wasn’t an entirely comfortable laugh. Better than bursting into tears, they supposed.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m…” Alex realised, belatedly, that it was a really nice gesture. A solution. Ben was always good at finding solutions, but that didn’t mean they had to go out of their way and get Alex things instead of beating them up and threatening them to stop. It was a gift. Ben was being nice to them. “I’m alright.”

They were so not alright, although admittedly for a different reason than a few seconds ago.

“I’m not mad,” Ben said. “So, stop avoiding me.”

Alex nodded.

Ben looked like they wanted to add something, but then shook their head. They pushed away from the door and turned to leave, hand on the doorknob already when Alex found their voice.

“Surely you could uhhh... Stay back for dinner?” 

Ben's lips quirked into the tiniest of smiles. “I have a bus to catch.”

“…maybe you don’t.” You could stay here. With me.

Ben tilted their head in confusion. “And how else would I get home, silly?”

Stay, I’ll lend you a sleeping bag. Stay, there’s a spare blanket here somewhere.

“Right.” Alex nodded, backing off. “Right.”

Ben left through the door, and Alex absolutely did not think about the fact that the way they said silly sounded all too much like silly little thing, and how they would probably fall and never get up if Ben called them their silly little thing. Nuh-uh.

Alex kept thinking about the tiny smile. And the gift. They used it. It did smell like what they were used to. They missed the smell of something indisputably Ben underneath it, that little bit of their presence that stayed behind.

Alex kept thinking about little gestures and everything Ben made. They saw Ben once during a particularly bad magic moment and they did something so unavoidably Ben (like that weird shrug of shoulders) and Alex immediately calmed down and oh. 

Shit no. It might be more than just their smell after all.

Not to mention Ben was the villain’s best attack dog. Killing machine. Quite like the rest of them, except, well, much more dangerous. Alex kind of hoped Ben assumed their avoidance was based on some kind of fear of them after fucking up and ending in the wrong locker by accident instead of… whatever it was. However much they were not afraid of Ben. Maybe that was the issue from the beginning. If they were afraid like everyone else, they wouldn’t have bonded so well.

But then Ben went out of their way to fix it. As if that wasn’t the most gesture thing to happen to Alex in forever.

It was the smallest of gestures. It was the most thoughtful of gestures. Attempting to solve the situation instead of pushing in. 

Strangely, ironically, it was making Alex's craving worse.

Alex refused to think of all those utterly menacing and dangerously enchanting moments of Ben that they’d witnessed over their shared time together at work. Or outside of it. They thought of them anyway. They were so utterly, profoundly doomed. It wasn’t even funny.

They managed to stay in the clear for all of eight days after that, before they found themselves picking the lock of Ben's locker again. Breaking in. Like a creep. 

“Maybe they should just kill me instead of being so fucking endearing.”

Except they couldn’t find the hoodie this time. They ruffled through the bag and patted the notebooks and pens scattered over the upper shelf in the locker. Nothing. Just work stuff.

Alex had exactly two seconds to stare into nowhere and notice the steps stopping next to them.

“What are you doing?”

Alex flinched and slammed the locker closed, facing Ben on instinct. Their mouth opened and closed with no words to form—their brain was refusing to cooperate properly.

Ben was wearing their hoodie. Their hair was wet and they were holding both their bloodied uniform and towel, meaning they probably had been sent home to rest after killing someone.

Wish for death and dead you shall be. Except Ben’s expression was not murderous in particular.

Alex found themselves gravitating towards them. Before they came to themselves, they already stood close enough to Ben to touch. By the time they tried to jerk away, Ben was already holding their upper arm, keeping them steady.

“So,” Ben whispered into the silence between them, “what’s the matter?”

Alex wanted to say something. They really did. Instead, their magic tugged them forward and they buried their face in their shoulder.

Ben went still.

Alex inhaled their scent, calming and there. Their magic settled. They melted.

“Is it my hoodie?” Ben’s voice flowed quietly, almost from afar.

“…just you.”

“Sorry?”

Alex realized what slipped. They wanted to pull away. They wanted to stay close forever. They needed to leave. They needed to cling to Ben.

Their dilemma was solved by those strong fingers curling into the back of their shirt, pulling them closer.

“You might want to elaborate on that,” Ben whispered.

“I’m…” Alex was content with keeping their face hidden.

Ben was drawing circles on their back now. Oh dear. Not even their grandma could help them anymore.

“I might have a little problem, and… it’s you,” they mumbled into Ben’s shoulder eventually. “Except it’s not the appropriate sort of problem at all.”

“Well, lucky you then.”

Lucky you. And of course Alex was lucky, were they not? If it was the villain or one of their higher-ups, there would be far worse consequences, wouldn’t they?

“We might have a similar kind of problem.”

Alex felt their magic settle. Their brain stopped. Their breathing probably stopped, too.

Their heart did the exact opposite, galloping forth.

They tried to look up then, but their head was held in place and pressed back into the shoulder.

“Invite me over, hm?” Ben petted their head. “I won’t catch the evening bus.”

And Alex did.

[muirneach]

yeah so im thinking that getting tens of 17-18 year old boys and telling them they could be the greatest ever and then putting them in high pressure games about three times a week and have the media follow them at all times where they will inevitably be not the greatest ever unlike what they were told they were because they are still kids and adapting is perhaps… not the greatest idea that sports has ever done. but haha isn’t celebrini funny isn’t bedard good

[oatlystrawberryicecream]

is this the attack on titans tower you guys are talking about?

[teatitty]

Okay so I'm generously calling this the Dandy Guardian AU until I think of a better name but essentially this is the rundown [had to put this under a cut because it got long WHOOPS]:

In the book version of events, Dandelion isn't present when Geralt is in Cintra and calls the Law of Surprise, but he does know about what happened. I can't recall if we ever see that convo in text or if it's just background knowledge but that's not important right now

When the Fall of Cintra happens, Dandelion already has his ear to the ground, the walls and the crowds to follow Nilfgaard's movements - Oxenfurt's bards are the best bet anyone has for gathering information about the invading armies because they are spread so wide around the continent and have so many connections

Dandelion's first thought is not to send word to Oxenfurt about Cintra's fall. His first thought is Geralt, and his blasted Child Surprise. He starts tracking his way to Cintra, hoping that he might be able to cross paths with Geralt in the surrounding territories to assure himself that his friend didn't get caught in the middle of that Fall

Meanwhile, Ciri knows she has to find a Witcher by the name of Geralt. She knows he is her destiny. She has no fucking idea where to start looking for him, but she's on the run from Nilfgaard, terrified and anxious and stressed, and in her bag, to her surprise, she finds a well worn copy of a hidden book of Dandelion's poems, all of which are to do with Geralt's adventures. Mousesack had given it to her in secret when she was six, and it had been one of her favourites ever since

She quite forgot she had it in her bag

Cirilla has no idea where to find Geralt. But Dandelion might. Dandelion, she thinks, is her best bet to track her own destiny

And of the two of them, Dandelion isn't a very hard man to find. His bright plumage and singing laughter leaves an easy trail of rumours and tracks to follow. Curiously, whenever she asks about where she might find him, people don't tend to question her. They look at her with sympathy - and sometimes pity - and ask if she has anyone else she can rely on

"No," says Ciri, sombre and trembling. "I only have him."

It's not a lie, exactly, and she's gotten quite good at hiding her aristocratic accent. They point her to when they last heard of his presence. They ask if she needs any help. She thanks them for it, because she is still polite, if angry and confused and oh-so-very lost, but she declines any further company

She goes on.

Every night, she opens up that little book of poems, and tries to imagine what the man described in them is like. It's the closest thing she has to knowing Geralt the Person rather than Geralt the Cursed Witcher

Cirilla is three weeks' worth of travel out from Cintra's borders when she finds Dandelion. It's a little more accurate to say she's dragged over to him - apparently, a blonde, freckle faced child asking about such a famous bard is a quick titter of gossip in the grapevine, and she quickly discovers why it is that nobody ever asked her why she wanted him, and always looked with sympathy or pity at her plight:

Dandelion's hair is blonde. Hers is paler than his own, but he is blonde, like her, and his eyes are bright and clear. His face, though worn and tired, is fair and freckled just like hers, and he is just as surprised as she is when she finds herself shoved in front of him and announced to be his "illegitimate daughter"

"Whoever you got unlucky enough to knock up," says the other minstrel who guided her, "the poor lass seems all alone now. From what I heard, you're the only thing she's got left in the world."

Whatever the minstrel says next is lost to her - for a few aching moments, Dandelion looks panicked. And then something shifts. His face softens. "You look dead on your feet, darling," he says. "Come on, lets get you upstairs and clean you up a bit."

Cirilla doesn't trust strangers. Oddly, Dandelion doesn't feel like one. Perhaps because she has spent so many nights reading his work. Or maybe it's because he's a friend of her destiny. Either way, she quietly follows him up to his room, and when the door is closed, he says, "You don't know where Geralt is, do you?"

Ciri does not.

Her lip trembles. Her shoulders shake. When she finally heaves a sob, Dandelion does not crowd her. But his hands are gentle when he moves her cloak from her shoulders. His voice is soft as he brushes her hair and hums a quiet song

Dandelion never met Pavetta in person. But he once saw her in a painting, and he's seen plenty of Calanthe's likeness over the years besides. Ciri looks a spitting image of them both. Privately, he's impressed at how well she could hide her accent. But she is still just a child, and Dandelion has much more experience with putting on such a performance. He's worn many a different mask with many a different voice over the years, and he had heard traces of her native Cintran beneath the roughness of her croak

Cirilla is alone. But she is also alive, and Dandelion knows, with a confidence born of years by Geralt's side, that his Witcher would never let himself die before finding this girl safe

When the morning comes, he begins to take her North

[wordsvomit101]

1. The funeral

(2 weeks after the death of Mr and Mrs Lee)

"It's raining," Minhyeok stood there, his eyes fixed on the people who were leaving. He couldn't help but ponder over their departure.

It was pouring rain, with each droplet hitting the ground creating a soft thud. He felt that the weather was fitting for the occasion. The sound of the raindrops filled his ears, creating a peaceful atmosphere that served as a sort of cool-down after the events of the day. It had been quiet and dreadful, with a heavy cloud of sadness looming over everyone. It was as if the rain was a reflection of their collective sorrow, slowly washing away the remnants of the day. Despite the dreariness of the weather, there was something calming and soothing about it all. The sound of the rain, combined with the emptiness of the streets, made him feel as though the world had come to a standstill, just for a moment.

The funeral had just ended five minutes ago, and the guests had finished paying their respects to the deceased and exchanging mourning. They were now leaving and heading back home.

"There is not much food or wine to delay them further anyway" 

He walked over to the violet-haired girl in the room and looked at the last person still remaining before the two portraits, eyes red and hollow, unnervingly so. His heart clenched as he remembered the once-brightly grinning girl who jokingly accepted his childish proposal, a face, and memory that seemed far too distant at this point.

"It doesn't fit her... no, she wasn't supposed to lose them" Her parents, her smile, her happiness, he knew there were more but it hurt to think more of what was lost that day. 

He's grateful that his parents would assist Raon in obtaining her parents' death certificates and managing other complex matters following the funeral. It would be tedious, he was quite sure. However, the fact that he couldn't do much more for Raon besides holding and comforting her is upsetting, it doesn't sit right with his skin. He doesn't know why he was praised for getting Raon out of that house that day, as much as he likes compliments, it felt empty that time, even more so when he saw Raon's passed out later.

He noticed the girl's slight movement in his embrace before he realized that his shoulder was damp with tears.

"She used to be a loud crier" 

He was aware of her tendency to throw tantrums when she got frustrated. Sometimes, offering her snacks could calm her down, but if that didn't work, she would cry even louder. Once, he had helped her parents calm her down for three hours when one of her favorite toys went missing. But now, her hiccups were barely audible, and her pained whine sounded like someone being choked. Her chest heaved painfully and uncontrollably. However, she calmed down a little when he gently ran his hands in a circular motion on her back. 

"..."

It would have been silence if it wasn't for her sniffling and slow breathing.

"..."

"..."

"I miss them already" She let out a sudden, quivering voice, her head still nestled in the safety of his shoulder.

"... Me too" 

"I want to eat Mom's Galbi Jjim"

"Yeah, she always makes it less spicy than the usual recipe for you"

"I want to show Dad my last semester grades"

"Your math improved a lot, I bet he would brag about it to my old man afterward"

"They promised to take me to Japan on New Year... They said it was Shiga Agricultural Park in Hino City"

"I heard the view there was great, they did told us they used to have a date there"

They keep talking like that for a while, Raon will say what she wants and Minhyeok will answer her, letting her relive in a happier time of the past that won't come back. He thinks he heard his parents and brother talking outside the room at some point, but they left them be. 

He had to relocate Raon to a more comfortable position to lean on the wall but never stopped listening and answering her rambles. They stayed like that, with her buried on his shoulder and him comforting her with his arms, and talked for an hour until...

"I want to kill the bastard that killed them" She said softly, eyes distant.

"..."

He was supposed to be surprised but... he can't, he knows he wouldn't be different if it were his parents or his brother. He's not as forgiving and "mature" as most people give him credit for. 

He softly breathes in the rain scent from outside the window, letting it ease his bones and sag him down the wall beside her. He thought about it when Raon quietly waited for him to answer her. 

"... Then no one will find out your secret from me"

He doesn't know if it is the right answer but the girl leaning on his shoulder seems to be relaxed enough to pass out to sleep. He should carry her back to her room in his home, but his legs don't seem to move nor does his arms. He only sits there and watches the rain that slowly lessen over time. 

It was a strangely mind-numbingly boring and calming activity, usually, he would rather swing his baseball bat or run around the park to think more clearly after. This doesn't feel so bad.

"..."

He turned to look at the two portraits again. They each depicted the faces of a confidently smiling, beautiful man and a handsome woman with fierce eyes. It feels like they're expecting something from him, to swear a promise, and give out his loyalty to the girl sleeping next to him. He can't hear them saying "Look after our silly daughter" anymore but he likes to think he is correct in his understanding this time at least.

He bows twice in the direction of the portraits, there is a burning in his veins and a sting in his slightly red eyes when he does it. Then, quietly, almost like a whisper, he said:

"Me and my family will keep her safe, Mr and Mrs Lee"

The exhaustion must have get to him if he think they seem pleased for a moment.

"I believe peace will wait for you two in the afterlife"

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

End notes:

Galbi-jjim (braised beef short ribs) is one of the most popular Korean dishes. It’s made with beef short ribs and is often prepared for special occasions.

[uniquezombiedestiny]

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