#piggybacking off you now we match : )

[wileys-russo]

put a ring on it II l.williamson x reader

lil LW6 fic based on this request put a ring on it II l.williamson x reader

"here she is!" you sung out as you launched yourself onto your friends back, alessia stumbling slightly but finding her footing with a laugh. "player of the match! player of the match!" you continued to cheer as alessia hoisted you up properly carrying you round on her back as you did your laps.

"the penalty was perfect less, see i told you they weren't cursed!" you grinned, pulling her into a tight hug as she placed you back down on your feet. "doesn't mean i'll be putting my hand up to take anymore!" the blonde shook her head, though neither of you were unable to keep the smile off her face with a 4-1 win over chelsea.

"i see now why the two of you are so perfect for each other." the taller girl laughed as you both clapped and waved to the fans, nodding toward your girlfriend who was getting a piggyback of her own off manu.

"leah's got an excuse though you're just lazy!" alessia teased, often having you demanding she piggyback you around on national duty and now you played for the same club team.

"you're one to talk! who carries all the bags when we go shopping?" you laughed shoving her, waving at a small group of girls who called out your name. "who buys the most and therefore has the most bags to carry!" the blonde countered bumping her shoulder into yours.

"thats definitely you babe, because its me who carries all the bag when we go shopping!" suddenly your girlfriend appeared, wedging her way in between the two of you with her arms slung over both yours and alessia's shoulders.

"i earn and spend my money the way i want, why all this hate!" you tutted with a playful roll of your eyes, the three of you falling into conversation as you continued on your lap round the emirates.

"heard you've got some competition for your girls hand leah!" kyra zoomed past with a cheeky grin, leah frowning in confusion but unable to ask for any further context as kyra sprinted off chased by vic.

"i didn't know your relationship was open williamson. can i have a crack?" katie was next, playfully kissing your cheek with a wink as now both you and leah looked on in confusion.

your relationship with leah could be described as private but not secret. for years now you'd posted pictures with and of one another, but paid no mind to the spamming of comments asking if you were together.

you lost no sleep to the rumours of what you two were and made no move to placate or deny them, rather just happily existing together and focusing your energy on your relationship rather than what people thought about it or assumed it to be.

however it was most certainly not open.

"what the hell is everyone on about?" leah huffed, annoyance replacing confusion as you squeezed her bicep to try and gain her attention seeing she was becoming upset. "um, i might have an idea." alessia chuckled beside you, clearly trying to cover up her amusement but failing miserably.

nudging the two of you she tried to subtly point something out in the crowd, and it didn't take very long for leah to follow along. "oh you are taking the piss mate." came the scoff and grumble as you tried to catch on, alessia rolling her eyes and moving your head so you finally spotted it.

"ohh." you sighed in realisation, your girlfriends mumblings beside you and closed off body language now making a lot more sense. "do they think thats going to work?" you laughed, which was cleary the wrong thing to say as leah scoffed again and stormed off before you could say another word.

"will you be saying i do then?" you grunted as the tables turned and kyra reappeared, jumping onto your back and wrapping her legs around your waist, vic and teyah not far behind her.

the teasing in question was all due to a large sign reading 'marry me y/n?' held up by a grinning girl who definitely looked too young for you whose eye contact you avoided as you turned away from the sign.

"someone will be sleeping with the dogs tonight!" vic roared with laughter as leah shot you a look over her shoulder and followed into the tunnel after beth.

"i didn't even do anything! this is all of your faults for pointing out that stupid sign and winding her up." you huffed and promptly dropped kyra, who swore after you as teyah helped her up and you hurried off toward where your girlfriend had dissapeared.

though before you could go after her there was a small group of fans calling your name and you diverted, spending a little while alongside laia and alessia signing and chatting things before finally breaking away and heading inside.

returning to the change rooms everyone seemed to be in good spirits and celebrations were in full swing. music was pumping and you couldn't help but laugh at some of your friends and team mates dance moves which were more than questionable.

"having fun wally?" you grinned at the poor swiss woman who was desperately trying to count heads for how many people to include in a dinner booking at one of the teams favorite pubs later tonight, with very little success.

"lee and i will be there." you laughed at her pleading eyes, kissing her cheek and searching the room for the blonde in question. "hey have you seen leah?" you asked beth who finally sat down to take her boots off and stopped singing (yelling) for five seconds at vivs pleading.

"maybe that way somewhere." beth jerked her thumb over her shoulder toward the rest of the team as you rolled your eyes. "yeah thanks beffy." you chuckled, quickly changing out of your socks and boots, a twenty minute warning given for the bus leaving you scrambled toward the showers just beating stina into the last free one.

knowing there was a line of inpatient girls waiting their turn who were only growing rowdier now someone had popped a bottle of champagne, you were fast with your shower and the way you changed into clean dry clothes in record time.

you'd think with the way the team was carrying on you'd all won the conti cup again though amusing as the celebrations were a frown was very much present on your face seeing leah was still nowhere to be seen.

you tried calling her as you grabbed your bag and filed out of the change rooms but huffed as it rang out and went to voicemail. "she's probably driving, she drove herself and laura right?" alessia tried to reassure you as your eyes roamed the carpark, leahs car nowhere in sight at all.

"yeah maybe." you mumbled, following the taller girl up and into the bus, loading your bags and settling into your seat. "ah ah no anti social behaviour we're celebrating!" you groaned as beth snatched your headphones from your hands, hanging them around her neck with a wink as jen ruffled your hair and steph smiled apologetically.

much as you did worry about leah a half hour later you couldn't help but laugh and try not to let your overthinking consume your mind too much as karaoke was in full swing and you'd almost arrived back to colney.

"macca please, give our ears a break!" alessia groaned playfully beside you, her head falling to your shoulder as the two of you plugged your ears and the older girl scoffed, making a point to saunter over closer and yell mr brightside even louder, vic belting it out from the other end of the bus.

you continued to check your phone, having still tried to call around to leah and sending her a few messages all of which had gone unanswered. "hey, get out of your head." alessia tapped at your forehead sensing the worried nervous energy pouring out of you.

"why would she be mad at you? you didn't make that sign, you didn't interact with the fan who made it, you didn't encourage anything." the girl rubbed your back comfortingly as she drew you in for a hug and the bus parked up, everyone hurrying off and agreeing to meet for dinner at seven sharp.

"text me yeah?" alessia encouraged as you nodded and sent her a grateful smile before slipping into your car and flicking through your playlists, needing the right sort of music to try and pull yourself from your thoughts as you drove home.

a small sense of relief flooded through you seeing leahs car was indeed in the driveway once you arrived, meaning at least she was home. quickly parking and shutting off your engine you grabbed your bag from the back and headed toward the front door.

though before you could even get a hand on the door it swung open taking you off guard, though the state of your girlfriend caught you even more so by surprise. "why are you-" you started, your girlfriend dressed up in a beige two piece suit with her hair done and light makeup apparent on her features.

"we're going out." leah announced, ushering you inside and grabbing your bag for you. "for dinner with the girls? i didn't think we were meeting until seven and we were just going to the local." you wandered in with a confused frown as leah shook her head.

"no, just you and i. i already called lia and let her know!" your girlfriend answered the question before you could even ask it. "but-" you started cut off by a shake of the blondes head.

"no more questions. our reservations at five and i already laid out something for you to wear. go change please darling!" leahs hands landed on your shoulders, turning and gently pushing you toward your shared bedroom. "you're being very weird williamson." you stated glancing at her over your shoulder as she waved you off and started to unpack your bag for you.

~

"come on babe it's nearly five!" leah groaned, still refusing to answer any of your questions as you finished doing your hair, nodding happily with the final product and grabbing your bag.

"hey thats not the bag i chose or the shoes!" leah huffed with a frown at your changes. "as sweet as it is that you wanted to dress me love, i get final say." you smiled pecking her lips and silencing any further protests.

"isn't it nearly five?" you reminded as she attempted to argue again, the blonde nodding and taking your hand, locking up after you and hurrying to open your door as you slid inside. "such a gentlewoman." you teased, the defender grinning and stealing a kiss before shutting your door and rushing around to her own side.

"will you tell me where we're going now?" you asked as leah pulled out of the driveway with a shake of her head, nodding for you to select some music. "you're an incredibly frustrating individual sometimes i leah catherine." you sighed but grabbed her phone none the less since it connected first.

"you still love me but." leah smirked teasingly, eyes focused on the road as she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. "lee. why did you run off today?" you questioned after a comfortable silence had fallen between you, unable to ignore the topic any longer.

"i didn't, just had to drop laura home." leah shrugged it off as you gave up trying to work out where you were going as she turned the opposite way that you expected her to.

"right. only after we saw that silly sign you seemed-" you continuned softly, cut off as leah turned up the current song and started to loudly sing along, wordlessly sending the message she didn't want to answer.

dropping it for now not wanting to spoil the blondes seemingly improved mood before a meal together you sang along with her as she drove. "oh we've not been here before." you perked up as leah finally turned in and parked, not recognizing where you were.

"some of the girls recommended it awhile back, i think dean took steph here for their anniversary if my memory serves correct?" leah commented, parking up and clicking her tongue at you as you went to open your door.

"you really are something else." you smiled as she appeared in front of you swinging the door open. "i will open doors any day for you my pretty lady." leah bowed as you smacked her shoulder and the defender stood up straight with a grin, grabbing your hand and placing a gentle kiss to your interlocked fingers.

the two of you fell into step as another comfortable silence fell between you, the sun starting to set bathing you in a warm golden glow, the dark clouds from earlier today now long gone.

"williamson." leah spoke with a smile to the hostess at the front who nodded, grabbing two menus and leading the two of you through the resteraunt. "its beautiful in here lee." you squeezed your girlfriends hand with an awestruck smile at the interior.

floor to roof there were old stone pillars, painted to look washed out as plants hung from the tops and vines spiraled around them, gold edged finishing on the dark mid century wooden furniture.

"wait till you see outside." leah murmered, kissing your cheek with a smile as the two of you were lead outside, your eyes lighting up seeing a small fire pit. "here?" you asked as the waitress gestured for the two of you to take a seat, the semi circle bench with an in built table a little sunk into the ground creating a cosy but private atmosphere.

there was a live band playing on a small stage and the soft chatter from your fellow diners just added to the cosy atmosphere as you thanked the hostess and sat down, leah making sure you were comfortable before taking a seat herself.

"like it?" leah raised an eyebrow but curiously and a little nervously, the two of you were creatures of habit and seldom tried new places, rather preferring the guaranteed satisfaction of what you knew wouldn't disappoint you.

"it's perfect leah. but why?" you laughed quietly, leaning in to kiss her properly and pulling away, neither of you overly large fans of pda given your shared 'famous' status and the risk of prying eyes or phone cameras.

"do i now need a reason to take my beautiful wonderful gorgeous girlfriend out for a nice meal?" leah smiled charmingly, resting her chin on her hand. "mm no but its much less suspicious when you do have one." you retorted, knocking your knee against hers as someone arrived to take your order.

not even having glanced at the menu yet you both smiled apologetically and ordered drinks, busying yourselves deciding what to eat and ordering food once your drinks arrived.

"so this lovely spontaneous meal would have nothing to do with that sign today then would it love?" you asked with a quirk of your eyebrow, sipping on your drink as leah rolled her eyes.

"no it would not!" "you do realise i've known you for years now williamson and you are a terrible liar."

"alright maybe the sign had me a little tiny teeny weeny bit jealous. but mostly i realised we'd not had a proper date night in far too long!" she grinned at the last part of her answer, hoping you'd skip over the first bit.

"jealous i might marry a wee stranger with a sign were we? thats a bit rom com cliche for me my love." you chuckled as your girlfriend playfully smacked your leg and finished her drink, setting the empty glass down as within seconds it was whisked away by someone.

"dunno i bet if i turned up outside your window with a big speaker and confessed my undying love for you you'd be swooning quite hard darling." leah smiled, eyes ablaze with nothing but sheer adoration for you.

"that would have certainly been much more romantic." you teased, leahs cheeks flushing pink at the memory. "stop! i was young and nervous and....sweaty." the defender cringed, having practically cornered you in the showers sweating bullets with nerves and practically yelling at you to go on a date with her.

"now babe how did it go again?" you pondered as leah groaned and hid her face in her hands. "go on a date with me tomorrow!" you mocked her accent and hummed. "no that wasn't it." you stroked your chin thoughtfully as your girlfriend groaned louder and smacked your knee, hiding her face in her hands.

"date tomorrow me please really like you!" you again mocked her accent and nervous stutter with a wolfish grin as the blonde was saved any further embarrassment as your food arrived.

the two of you grew up together on the football pitch in your teen years, both growing quite close through the arsenal academy leah made her senior team debut just a season before you and you couldn't be prouder.

though the distance between you now as you stayed training with the b team meant she realised she wanted to be more than friends and harboured quite unfriendly feelings.

feelings she made the mistake of confessing to her new teammates who'd at first teased her relentlessly and then came the ongoing pushing to tell you how she felt.

leah finally cracked once you signed your own contract and were finally training by her side again, the teasing growing worse for a very clearly flustered leah, a side you weren't used to having known her to be occasionally over confident.

you'd chalked it down to nerves for the talks of her impending senior national team call up, everyone else chalked it up to her being disgustingly head over heels for you and surprisingly too scared to let you know.

this meant six agonisingly slow months passed where leah continued to be given shit for the pining looks sent your way when you weren't looking, until one day something snapped and she decided no more would she hide the truth away.

it may have coincidentally also been the day she heard rumours of you allegedly being dragged along speed dating later that night with some of the other older girls 'for a laugh'.

so swallowing every single doubt which screamed at her this was a terrible idea leah had tried time and time again that day to speak with you, but something or someone seemed to pop up and get in the way every time.

which had been what lead to the abrupt and incredibly awkward shower room incident, though really as much as leah was horrifically mortified you'd found it endearingly cute.

given you still teased her for it this day and the two of you had been dating for years and years now as leah got older the regret of how she'd gone about asking you out had begun to melt away.

"ready to go baby girl?" leah asked as your plates were cleared, the two of you practically now sitting on top of one another as you relished in the welcome warmth both from the fire pit and one anothers bodies.

"did you want one more drink?" you turned your head to question, quite comfortable in your current position. "nah, one of us has to be sober enough to drive home." leah teased, ducking her head to press her lips to yours, pulling away far sooner than you'd have liked as she squeezed your hips indicating you stand up.

making your way hand in hand through the restaurant, now both well fed and a tiny bit tipsy in your case you both cared less about the displays of affection, having been papped together many times over the years anyway but just never directly addressing anything.

thanking the hostess leah was quick to grab the door for you, your cheeks flushing bright red as she lightly patted your bum as she walked out after you, causing you to shoot her a playful glare over your shoulder.

the blonde was even quicker to pull off her suit jacket, draping it over your bare shoulders and silencing your protests that now she would be cold with several kisses, mumbling about how she was warming herself up with them causing you to laugh against her lips.

many sweet kisses and cheesy compliments exchanged during the walk back to the car you shrugged off leahs arm and darted to her door, pulling it open for her for once as she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"must be the jacket." you teased as she rolled her eyes but slid into the car, making a point to lean over the console to push open your own door for you anyway.

finally pulling into your driveway with a firm look from your girlfriend you waited patiently for her to make her own way to your door, gasping in mock surprise as she pulled it open and once again bowed.

"sap!" you teased shoving her as you grabbed her hand and stood, leah closing the door and locking her car up after you. "okay before we go inside." your girlfriend started halting you in your tracks by the front door, causing a suspicious frown to grow on your face.

"i need you to trust me please." the taller girl took your hands in hers with a gentle squeeze as you slowly nodded. "i do."

"okay good. now please put this on then, no questions." leah reached into the pocket of her trousers and pulled out a blindfold as you raised an eyebrow but begrudgingly did as she asked, flinching as her hands fell to your shoulders once you'd heard her unlock the front door.

"i got you." she chuckled, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and carefully guiding you inside, murmering when steps were coming or there was obstacles.

you heard the back door sliding open and felt your girlfriend carefully help you down the back steps as she asked you kick off your shoes and your feet sunk into the soft grass of the backyard.

eventually you felt yourself step onto something rougher causing your eyebrows to furrow curiously as leahs hands fell from your body and you heard some shuffling around but you knew there wasn't a point to you asking anything as she would just not answer.

"okay, you can take it off now love."

it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust once you'd pulled off the cloth blindfold but once they did your hand flew to your mouth and your body locked up, your reaction clearly amusing the blonde knelt down in front of you.

the roughness beneath you was a large aztec blanket, with two beanbags and cushions scattered all around as lanterns and fairy lights hung from the trees and on each corner of the blanket around you illuminating your backyard in a soft golden glow.

"leah..." you trailed off, shaking your head unable to find words as she sent you a soft smile and held up her hand to silence you.

"now you know why i was so pissed off with that stupid bloody sign today. i've had this planned out for weeks and of course the day i choose to do it, which i promise was long pre planned, some other randoms got a sign asking for your hand and making me look like some jealous numpty whose concocted a last minute proposal just to spite some teenage fangirl!" leah scoffed with a shake of her head making you let out a half laugh half sob as her features softened.

"you're such an idiot." you managed to get out making her grin and shuffle forward a little, reaching into her other trouser pocket as your heart rate accelerated even faster if that was humanely possible.

"jesus christ." you exhaled shakily as she pulled out a small velvet box and popped it open, the ring inside glinting back at you. "not my name love but i'll take it." leah grinned boyishly as you again let out a laugh, hand still covering your mouth in shock.

"my beautiful girl. i've loved you for as long as i've known you and though it took me a little bit to realise i think i might've been in love with you that entire time too." leah started as your knees felt like buckling.

"you are the most warm, caring, kind, attentive, empathetic, passionate and selfless person i've ever had the utter pleasure of having in my life let alone the absolute honor of calling my partner in life. you've always been the one whose better with words between us but i'm going to do my very best to remember all of-" as excitement shot through your body you couldn't help but interrupt.

"yes!" you cried out suddenly, taking leah off guard as she faltered mid speech and your face blushed bright red. "yes?" leah asked wide eyed as you nodded furiously. "yes, yes, yes, a million times yes." you laughed as another sob wracked your body.

the blonde was up and on her feet within seconds and hoisting you off the ground, spinning you around as tears of joy spilt over from her own eyes and you wasted no time smashing your lips to hers.

"i had a whole lovely long heartfelt speech planned out about how much i love and adore you dickhead. i've proposed to laura, lia and beth about three thousand times now for practice!" leah laughed against your lips as she carefully settled you back down on your feet and pressed her forehead to yours.

"save it for your vows?" you smiled guiltily, biting down on your bottom lip as leah let out a pelt of laughter, letting go of you to wipe away her tears before very gently wiping away your own with the pad of her thumb, tugging you into yet another kiss.

"wait! at least let me-" she pulled away and dropped down onto one knee again, carefully pulling out the ring and placing the box down by her side.

"may i please be your wife?" leah asked, eyes once more welling up with tears as you nodded and she grabbed your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger as you pulled her up to her feet.

"you know i also had this to get to, you really are so inpatient!" leah threw her head back with a laugh, stepping back and lifting one of the beanbags pulling out a bundle of red.

as she dropped it open you let out a laugh of your own, seeing it was an arsenal jersey with williamson on the back but with your own number, clearly an indicator of the future to come.

"mm mrs williamson has such a perfect ring to it my girl, i can't wait to be your wife." "i love you so so very much, fiance." "i bet that girl is gonna feel proper stupid now." "leah!" "what? she beat me to the punch but i got the final knockout." "you're forever and always the winner in my eyes baby."

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley: You Wake Up Together

Warnings: smutty ending but also so much fluff, also profanity (just one word)

A/N: I've had this draft since I wrote the first fic/headcannon for Ghost and I've finally managed to finish it. I promise BTS and SKZ fics are also to come but I'm just in my Ghost phase right now and I really can't help myself

OTHER STORIES MASTERLIST

* * *

"We should get up," you mumbled for the second time but neither of you budged. Your leg hung over Simon's waist, his hand stroking your hair as you lay; bodies entwined like two pieces of puzzle.

Simon groaned and took a deep breath as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He kissed your forehead and temple before he forced himself to sit up, carefully removing his arm from beneath your head. You moaned in discontent, your hand reaching blindly for him as he sat up properly. You opened your eyes that were heavy with sleep.

You sat up as well and wrapped your arms around Simon's bare torso, your warm cheek pressed against his back as you closed your eyes once more. Simon smiled and caressed your hands.

"Come on, love," he spoke softly and pulled your legs into his arms. A smile grew on your face as you wrapped your arms around Simon's neck before he stood up.

Simon gave you a piggyback ride to the kitchen where he sat you down on the counter. He did not let you go before squeezing your thighs reassuringly, making sure you were sat well. Then he put the kettle on as you waited, watching his lazy gestures until he turned around and faced you once more. Simon's warm hands slid up your thighs before he buried his nose in your neck and locked his arms around your waist.

"You okay?" you spoke softly and ran your fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. Simon was never one to say much on his own accord so you often relied on asking him yourself.

"Ne'er better, love," said Simon, his sleepy English accent laced in his words like butter. "You?" he asked in turn as he pulled back a little. His head dropped and tilted ever so slightly to match your height. Simon's gaze flickered between your eyes.

"I'm okay," you reassured with a small smile.

"Yeah?" he asked quietly. "You sleep well?"

"Mhm," you nodded as the kettle began bubbling aggressively yet Simon's arms were wrapped around your waist and his lips moved softly against yours. You smiled into the kiss when the kettle turned itself off and Simon was finally awakened from his thought. He prepared two cups of tea that you always drank in the small balcony of your Manchester flat; overcrowded with plants and cosy armchairs.

But as you curled up in one of the chairs, you noticed Simon disappearing back inside. You caught a glance of him rumbling through a drawer in the living area until you saw a packet of cigarettes in his hands and frowned. When Simon came back outside, an unlit cigarette hung between his lips as he sat back down. Yet just as he was about to light his cigarette, his eyes found yours and he froze on the spot.

"What?" murmured Simon.

"Are you serious?" you asked calmly although the frown would not leave your face.

"Y/N, it's just one cigarette," insisted Simon yet there was a glimpse of guilt floating beneath the surface of his pale blue eyes.

"Fine," you shrugged your shoulders. "Then you can kiss yourself for the rest of the day," you spoke calmly as you picked up your cup of tea and took a sip.

Simon's lips parted and his face went numb as he stared at you motionlessly, contemplating whether you were actually serious. In truth, he looked like a child who was threatened to have his favourite toy taken away from him.

"You choose," you said casually, "Who do you like more - me or the cigarettes?"

Simon slowly took the cigarette from his mouth and flung it over the balcony as if it were worth less than a penny. He leaned his hands of the arms of the chair, staring at you intently. You tried to hide a smirk of triumph as you got up and made his way to him but you could not help but grin against his lips when you kissed him. You cupped his face as you straddled his lap, one leg on each side of his waist. Simon did not reach for you immediately, pretending to be stoic when in truth he was on his knees with love and desire for you. He wrapped his arms tightly around your hips, his fingers digging softly into your skin. You traced the scars across his broad chest absent-mindedly as you deepened every kiss even further. Simon's hands slipped beneath your hips as he squeezed your bum. He stood up, supporting you against him but never breaking the kiss.

"Wait, what about the tea?" you mumbled quickly.

"Fuck the tea," murmured Simon and carried you back to the bedroom.

[magewritesstories]

[ ʏᴜᴊɪ ɪᴛᴀᴅᴏʀɪ ] ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

summary: you and yuji, a couple? no, no way, you're just really close friends tw: none, you and yuji pull an adrien agreste note: in honour of someone asking me and a close friend if we were dating lol. word count: 501 words (small blurb not really a one-shot) jujutsu kaisen masterlist

IT'S NOT HARD FOR SOMEONE TO GET THE WRONG IDEA. I mean, anyone with an outside perspective seeing Yuji give you a piggyback ride to the school sports field would assume you were dating.

It's especially not hard for Setsuko, since she's been there to see the way you cling to Yuji every time something scary happens.

It's not hard for Takeshi to misunderstand either, not after the multiple times he's watched Yuji take the long way home just so that you wouldn't have to walk home alone.

Now, in hindsight, sure these are things that friends do for friends too but eventually the little acts start to pile up.

You're the one who indulges your pink-haired best friend and lets him rant on and on about the newest Jennifer Lawrence movie he's watched.

Yuji's the one that's already slinging your bag over his shoulder before you even start to—dramatically—complain about the fact that all your books are going to give you back hernia.

So, when that day Yuji shows up to P.E. wildly waving his hand in greeting with you on his back, equally enthusiastic, it's the straw that breaks the camel's back.

The rest of the day is spent observing you and Yuji. Both of you are completely oblivious to the fact that any of this is happening, simply brushing it off as your friends being their usual weird selves.

Eventually though, during the occult club meeting both teens sit the two of you down with angry stares (they really don't look that intimidating.)

"Okay, out with it," Setsuko orders, arms crossed, "Are you two dating or something?"

You and Yuji give her a confused look before turning towards each other and bursting out laughing simultaneously.

"Huh? Us?" You manage to reply between laughs, "That's very funny Sasaki-senpai."

Yuji nods, wiping away a tear dramatically. "Is this some kind of early April fool's joke?" He asks with a grin, "'Cause if it is I think you guys should stick to the supernatural genre."

Takeshi stares the two of you down in disbelief, "You're really not dating?"

"Nope, we're not," The pink-haired boy next to you replied, "Wait, what even made you think that?"

Now it's Takeshi and Setsuko's turn to share a disbelieving look. "The two of you act like newly-weds," Your upperclassman replies, "Without all the kissing."

"Really? I thought all friends acted that way?"

"Well, I suppose some do, but it's still weird."

You and Yuji shrug. "Well, we're not dating," You finally reply, "I think it's kinda funny that you thought we were though."

After that, the normal occult club meeting continues and neither of you mentions the strange question again.

And if either of you notices the way you suddenly can't hold eye contact with Yuji as long as you used to or the way the tips of Yuji's ears match his hair whenever you link your arm through his on the way back home, neither of you mentions it.

Yeah, definitely just close friends.

[bambooshootssoup]

Being Yoriichi disciples HCS

Yoriichi Tsugikuni X Reader

(Actually, I want to make it platonic, but it's kinda up to you if you want to see this as a romantic relationship)

CW : Mention of arranged marriage, Reader-san is a former Noble

- it's actually an accidental

- it's a very cold night back then, as you run with your utmost speed, running away from whatever thing that chases you, whether it's a guard that after you or a hungry feral demons that try to devour you

- why guard? It's because you were running away from your house, not wanting to marry someone that is far older than you because of that damned arranged marriage

- and why demons? Well, it's kind of an unlucky day for you, but thankfully they kill the guard that goes after you, but sadly, now they try to eat you

- and you eventually crossed paths with Yoriichi, your unexpectedly-to-be- teacher

- Of course, as a demon slayer, he executes those demons without any further question, and he actually ask why such a person like you are out of house in the middle of the night

- then he found you collapse (if it's me, my mouth would be bubbling fr) out of fear

- He sighed as he pick you up and search for a shrine to spend his night, or at least until you're awake, and thank God it didn't took a long time for you to regain consciousness

- you explain your situation to him, he listened to it quietly and only give a quick nod or just a simple "I see", but even after he heard everything (is he even listen to you ? Lol) , he still tell you to go home anyway, because it's safer that way

- but then, you ask him to teach you a swordsmanship, and his eyes are kind of widened? Even tho his expression does not change much

- "I'm sorry, but I have to refuse... I do not take any disciples", and now, it depends on your stubbornness, you have to un-tiredly ask him a lot of time, and if it's possible... Try to make him pissed off

- "......... Come with me"

- he teaches you every basic of swordsmanship patiently and silently, as you wandering with him (because he doesn't really have any place to back), and it kind of nice, because the more the merrier

- and you actually take care of his poor soul, you cook a lot for him, and tend to his wounds if he got one (despite of him always tell you that's unnecessary, but you does it anyway), and he's surprised you knew well about medical stuff

- headpat is always, he's never been great with praise, when you did a great job he just pat (more like tap) your hair and tell you're doing great with his deadpan expression

- willingly piggyback you, it's happen quite often at daylight, when night is kept you both awake, you often find yourself tired and sleepy, then he offers you his back for you to hop on

- " We have to continue, if you're that sleepy.... I could carry you on my back if you want"

- he never like being called "sensei" Or "master" Or any formal nickname, just call him "Yoriichi"

- you're his soft spot, he's happy when you're happy, and sympathetic when you're sad, he doesn't mind if you doesn't really master the Sun Breathing, he could help you find your own breathing style, or if you want to just become a medic, he's on the "support" mode and help you gather a lot of herbs

- his gift are simple and useful, such as katana, a simple accessories, and a clothing that kind-of-having (sorry for poor language) a matching style with him ( poor man does not know which style of clothes that you like), et cetera

- " Your determination and stubbornness remind me of Uta"

- you caught him smiling a lot of time, and he actually get embarrassed and try to change the topic if you ask him about it

- he tells you everything about his life, he's comfortable enough with you for him to spill the tea, and wishing for you to live a happy life if it's possible

- please tell him that you're living your best life with him by your side, it gonna make him so happy that his eyes are full of tears, while muttering "thank you" A lot

- despite of you being strong enough to protect yourself, he still worries a lot and always remind you not to be so reckless

- and it's the sad part, the part when you finally have to bid farewell to each other, for a reason, you cannot travels with him anymore, and for a reason he could no longer stay with you anymore and you have to part ways

- but still, if you that insists, you will continue your journey with him and actually grow old and frail together, and jokingly call him "sensei" And he would still got mad by it

- and it's a secret that he want to keep it inside of the deepest part of his heart, but he actually afraid if one day you will get your demon slayer mark, he may be an exception, but he knew not everyone is not as lucky as him, what if it's were you being unlucky and died at such young age? , he always hold his tears from those thoughts, after a years of spending his life with you, he couldn't help but growing afraid to lose you

- not after his dearest wife and unborn child

- death is inevitable, he aware of that, and that's why if you happened to got your mark, he will give everything that he could to you and make sure you're living your life at its best, without any regret, even at your last moment

- " Never once I regretted to took you as my disciple, Y/N"

.

.

.

.

Sheeshh that's a long HCS for sure, thanks for reading it, like and reblogs are heavily appreciated^^

If you have any requests, let me hear it please

Sorry for the language mistake and have a nice day

[hollowfaith]

: )

Aurelius was born smiling, a textbook perfect cherub whose perfect innocence charmed all those who laid eyes on him. He was loved, not only by the world but the angels and humans who lived in it, his very existence seemingly there to bring them hope and joy. It was his Father who taught him to use his smile instead of just letting it sit there and go to waste, and the sharp-witted boy quickly realized that it didn't matter if he meant it or not—nobody could truly tell.

Especially after he convinced himself he was sincere even when lying.

Thus, smiles have become cheap to him; he can turn them on and off at a whim and knows the perfect nuance for every situation. Emotions in general have become his stage and pastime—as for what he really feels, he doesn't think it matters in the larger scope of his plans.

To this date, he remembers genuinely smiling three times: once in his childhood, twice while recognizing Anghelescu as his equal, and the third time while standing over his Father's corpse. All three came about as a result of his own hard work, so—

—he has to thank himself for that.

SMILE SMILE SMILE

When Klaus was younger, he didn't smile often. A sad kid going through the motion that the cruel world offered him. When his father passed, it was such a rare sight to see. While Klaus was surrounded by love from Miyena and Morriss and their laughter and joy (whenever it was able to be spread) was seen, it was enough to lighten Klaus' heart. If they were lucky, they'd even get a smile or a laugh in.

It isn't until he's met people here that he's grown to be okay with showing more and more emotions. He's been so closed off and shielded from feeling much of anything since he was a child, but Klaus is beginning to learn that it's okay to feel the things he does WHEN he feels them. That even goes for joy, happiness, smiling, and laughing.

he's still working on it, but he's definitely come a long way.

He's got so many people to thank for that.

[cryptidwrestling]

I need to sleep. I am putting way too much thought and upset energy into a scripted sports soap opera 😂😭 Anyway

Some Of Cryptid's Current Thoughts And Feelings™ On The State Of Her RAW Faves

1) Liv Morgan's booking.

Ya'll. I'm a Rhea simp/stan and a person second, anyone who's been on my blog for more than thirty seconds knows this 😂 And I've also made it no secret I, for the most part, am actually still enjoying the Liv v Rhea feud. So all that being said, what the fuck is going on with Liv's booking.

I know she's a heel and part of a heel faction and in-ring bullshit is the name of the game, but the fact that neither of her title defenses have been won clean (granted, she didn't technically win the Bad Blood one anyway but whatever we all know that ending was botched and she was supposed to technically win) and 9/10 times she runs from Rhea when confronted. They're making the Women's Champ look weak.

Liv can be cunning and vicious, we've all seen it; for fuck's one of my favorite theories that I'm willing to die on the hill of is Liv still just using Dominik as a pawn and is gonna drop him the moment she realizes he doesn't fit in with her plans anymore. Book the feral Liv if they're gonna keep this storyline going.

2) Finn v Damian

I mentioned this in a another post but I feel like the reason they weren't pushed as hard is because they didn't want to risk something forshadowing the PunkIntyre feud...And if that's the case, they shouldn't have had Finn turn yet. With this theory in mind, and tbh even if NOT true this would have still worked, the tldr in my head is

-Dom's turn should have been the same

-Have Finn, and the rest of the JD stick around and the rivalries be Dom v Damian and still Rhea v Liv

-Bad Blood rolls around, Dom and Damian have a match, and Finn's turn comes in the form of him and the JD assisting Dom.

-The Finn v Damian feud kicks off the same night Punk v Drew ends

There was NO REASON to have Finn turn and to wait this long to really start doing something with it. I still standby my opinion if done right, this rivalry could still be AMAZING...But it doesn't change the fact it has lost a LOT of momentum going the way it has.

3) Rhea Currently Standing Alone

To a degree, I get it. Her and Damian agreed to do their own thing because he's done with the JD (as far as he thinks.) and they're in different divisons but he would/will always come if Rhea called. I'm not a fan of how fast they split them up as a team-again, wave two of the Terror Twins shirts had barely shipped when this happened-but this segement was okay. It was sweet and mutual.

THAT SAID.

Rhea is currently in a 2v1 (not counting Dom cause I have little hopes of us ever getting a sanctioned match with them cause ✨intergender✨🙄) rivalry. Liv has Raquel...Who the fuck does Rhea have? Tiffy? Maybe, but we can't even say that for certain because as it sits right now, they're on different shows. Show borders are just currently being blurred in, assumingly, prep for Survivor Series.

Why the fuck does Rhea currently have to stand alone.

4) Jhea

THIS KINDA PIGGYBACKS OFF MY LAST PARAGRAPH AND IS THE ONE I REALLY DON'T GET??? Okay, yes, it was probably supposed to be something cute and just for fun to fill time while the other main storylines Rhea and Jey are/were in moved along. But if that was the case, why did ya'll move it to the main stage and not just keep it in backstage segments? Rhea during a preshow interview, I think it was Bad Blood?, said Jey showed her what a real man was like. Not to mention Jey coming to Rhea and Damian's defense or Jey agreeing to tag with Damian cause he "can't say no to Rhea." Why the fuck would you plant seeds like that on screen, on the main stage, and then just??? Drop it??? I don't get it???

5) JEY MOTHERFUCKING USO'S 28 DAY REIGN

I'm gonna make this one short and sweet cause you can literally see all my posts directly below this word vomit and see how mad I am 😅 But, in short; Why. Why not wait until after he's done with the Bloodline to give him a title? Why not have this same set up but give him the title ages ago. Give him a decent title reign with the same ending. Predictable at that point sure, but okay...What is the fucking point of having him, a fan favorite who everyone was cheering the house down the night he won, get his first solo title ever after fourteen years...Only to give it back to Bron less than a month later?

Bron is a GREAT preformer, do not get me wrong but making this...I don't want to say newcomer, but newer star a two time champ in his lesser time with the WWE just doesn't sit right with me.

I know Jey was gonna get involved with the Bloodline story at some point. I know it would have been hard to impossible to book him in a Smackdown story as a RAW champ...They could have done in without stripping his first non-tag title from him in under a month. We could have gotten crashout Jey going after Solo and Co without what we got tonight.

[bitchy-w1tchy]

Anfuu analysis

Anime onlys: I would highly recommend not reading any further because I will be discussing a lot of shit that happens way past episode 10 in the anime.

This is long, sorry

Lemme say first off that I really have not seen a relationship like Andy and Fuuko's before (granted my only other shonen series I have been into were Fairy Tail and AOT). From what I have seen in other shonen, which I normally can't get into because they're pretty cookie cutter imo, romance doesn't happen right off the bat.

Undead Unluck would not be a thing if Fuuko and Andy didn't have a relationship. I'm a damn sucker for romance and the second I saw the dynamic between them in the first episode, I knew I was in for a helluva ride.

So in the beginning, it is obvious that Andy is using her. He has admitted to it multiple times, there's no hiding it. My guy wanted to die and saw someone who could potentially give him a proper death and he wasn't going to let that opportunity slip through his fingers.

Up until the end of Spoil, Andy saving Fuuko, protecting her, teasing her, that was all for his personal gain. He didn't take into account that she had been touch deprived for ten years, living vicariously through her shojo manga. Andy called her a pushover many times but I don't think she was. She loved the fact that she could touch someone without them dying. In a short amount of time, she got to live out a ton of different scenarios that only her shojo mango could provide her and I think she was in love with the idea that she could finally start living a little.

Going back to the Spoil arc, after Fuuko saves Andy from Victhor, that's when the dynamic starts to change a little bit. Fuuko saved Andy. She got him back. And Andy FOR SURE saw that. She wasn't some brat to him anymore. Does he love her at this point? No. But he definitely respects her and wants to continue to protect her. He doesn't JUST see her as a personal asset anymore.

And we are that in the Unrepair arc, when Fuuko gets hit by Rip's scalpel, Andy loses it and has to collect himself before returning to the fight, not only that is that Fuuko had to reassure him that she was fine.

Fuuko is not a damsel in distress and Andy sees that, allowing her to fight alongside him (even if she is just piggybacking). Andy recognizes that he can be stronger with her Unluck and it makes me so damn happy that she isn't cast on the sidelines during fights (thank you tozuka)

ANYWAYS

Autumn arc is where we start cooking, fr. Fuuko admits she loves Andy. Is she in love with him? No. But she is starting to fall. She spent 10 years with him in that damned book. And Andy definitely loved her too. They helped each other grow. And when they came out of that book they were stronger than ever.

Before Fuuko goes with Under, it was blatantly obvious that Andy did not want her to go. At this point, he does not like being away from her at all. But there is a huge amount of trust there so he lets her go.

But man's was STRESSIN the whole time she was gone, not sleeping or nothing until her heard from her. Not only that is Fuuko admits that she is in love with Andy, realizing it now that she has been away from him for only a couple days. Not only that is Unchaste doesn't work on her because she truly loves someone unconditionally.

Now, before I go into the rest of Spring and into Ragnarok, I'm gonna say that Andy does not know how to deal with his feelings. His inner dialogue and the way he speaks to Fuuko are not matching up at all. Before he admits he loves her, (God damn it I wish she heard him), he's looking back on their time together, how they both grew, how he treated her at first, etc.

At the end of Spring, he admits to himself that he can't die because he can't accept Fuuko's feelings properly. And why can't he? Because he's AFRAID.

But when he speaks to Fuuko he plays it off as, "now it's my turn to fall in love with you", kinda jokes around about it.

This is where I get controversial. By the time Spring ends, does Andy love Fuuko? Without a doubt, yes. Is he IN love with her? No.

Like I said, he is scared to accept her feelings. I do believe that if he could get past the barrier of his own feelings and accept her love then I truly believe he would fall head over heels with her in an instant. His feelings are what's holding him back.

So why is he so afraid? Because I think that if he admits he is in love with Fuuko and accepts Fuuko's feelings, then he won't want to die like he has wanted for 2 centuries. And if he DOES die, then he leaves behind a heartbroken Fuuko.

I mean, come on, Fuuko gets shanked and Andy absolutely loses his shit. That's love.

I PISSED that Andy and Fuuko never got their proper talk before the Loop happened. But I'm hoping that when Andy decides to get his ass off the fucking sun (kidding), then we have a real talk between them because I'll tell you I am so sick of licking these anfuu crumbs off the fucking floor. (Bring my boy home)

(now I do think, at some point during the Ragnarok arc, he doesn't want to die anymore. His astral projection is that of an old man. He just wants to grow old.)

[willowve01]

So— I wrote fluff.. and possibly oc x canon

Day in the Meadow

“Like this??”

Timothy asked as he held up a mess of flowers, barely gaining the circle shape he was going for. He wanted to learn how to make a flower crown after Raine had made him one— that was still currently resting atop his head.

Raine had been leaning against him, her shoulder and cheek against his back— more-less using him as a shield against the sun. She perked up to his voice, forcing herself from her spot to get a look.

“Yeah! You’re getting there.”

She smiled, lingering slightly even when Tim let out a semi-frustrated sigh.

“This is hard, how’d ya get it to stay? Mine keeps on breaking.”

“That’s okay! It takes practice. Plus, yer doin’ real good for the first try.”

She reassured him as she gently held the bottom of his hands and raised them slightly out of his lap. The praise forming a bright smile on his face, quickly replacing the defeated puppy eyes a second ago.

“Really?”

Raine hummed in response, her usual soft smile now bright to match his enthusiasm.

“I’m makin’ this one fer Bodie. Whatcha think? I’m worried I made it too big.”

She asked as she held up a crown full of dandelions and a few daisies. The young gator gawked in awe, “Woah! I’m thinkin’ he’ll love it!”

Raine flushed, now a little embarrassed by his enthusiasm.

“Heh, thanks Tim.”

~

A distraction offered itself into the momentary silence when Raine flinched and clenched her eyes shut, raising her hand to shield them. The sun was setting.

Raine hummed as her eyes refocused, admiring the bright oranges and golds. Tim found himself joining her in sunset gazing, a soft smile plastered in both of their faces as they stared off into the horizon.

“Beautiful ain’t it?”

She spoke, asking no one in particular. Tim’s gaze shifted from the sunset to her, going to say something but stopped. His eyes locked on hers, though she remained oblivious to him.

Her eyes were full of colors from the sunset; vaguely similar to the pinks and purples of his singing tanzanite. His gaze shifted down to trace the scars along her face. She hadn’t told him the story, no matter how much he begged. Scars were always so cool to him, but he could tell she hated hers.

In spite of that fact… he couldn’t help but admire her.

“Yeah..”

Raine felt a chill rush down her spine as a hand brushed the hair away, tucking it behind her ear while a daisy held it in place. A meek;

“Huh?”

Escaped her mouth as she turned to the boy beside her, her cheeks flushed and chest a mix of various emotions.

“I’m not gonna finish it anyway, so, uh—yeah.. we—we should probably get goin’ now. Don’t wanna be back too late! Gumbo should be done by now, Bodie’s probably look’n fer us.”

He quickly stood up, trying to brush off what had just happened— and the internal panic. Offering Raine a hand after a good stretch, to which she took, her touch remained soft and shy.

“You gonna be okay walkn’ back? Do you want a piggyback or—”

He was abruptly cut short by a small peck being placed on his cheek; suddenly going stiff, heart racing and his face feeling like it was on fire.

“Nah, I’ll be okay! I think I can make it, gettin’ tired of sittin’ around all day anyway.”

Raine chirped, limping slightly as she started back to the swamps treeline. Timothy stood there with a wide-eyed expression, flushed and confused as he turned to watch her go. She stopped and turned to look at him when she realized she wasn’t being followed, her face just as red as his.

“You coming, Tim?”

“A— yeah!”

With that, he was at her side again. Walking along side her as the familiar grounds of the swamp greeted them under their feet. Tim walking slower than his usual self, making sure his bug could keep up as the swamp steadily grew darker.

Art by @rozeliyawashereyall <33

(It was just so cute, I just had to write a scenario~~)

Anxious Willow sounds

[gayometer]

Don't know if I sent this or not but here you go again.

So we got the babies in the original timeline now how about Lost readers themselves?

The gods are bound to be so put off by a human who talks to them not like they are highly powered beings, not as their enemy either but as people they know, friends and family.

The humans are not much better of course since the reader has a romantic relationship with a God or two yet they are trying to destroy humanity. And it's pretty crazy how they and Qin are instantly just seem like best friends who haven't seen each other for a long time even though they are from a different dimensions.

And if one of the gods or humans (possibly Zeus) challenges them to a dual for fun or to put a mortal in their place and suddenly they all see them completely demolishing the God/Human in question then they will absolutely understand that they are not someone to be messed with, especially when the reader says “oops I guess I wasn't holding back as much as I thought I should, sorry!”

Even if their sense of direction is atrocious.

Oh how the turn tables

Ancient ask, was seriously debating how to make this, either everyone or just the Olympic brothers + Qin

ZEUS who challenged you to a fight and was surprised when you flipped him over and then apologized.

POSEIDON who was borderline disturbed by how familiar you were acting with him, he tried to stab you but you caught the trident......what do you mean where are the twins?

HADES who is in disbelief that such a human exists in another universe. And what's this about a child?

ADAMAS who tries to find humor in the inter dimensional travel thing that's been happening lately, but is still mad that a human can put his dear brothers Hades and Zeus on their asses in seconds.

APHRODITE who finds you so cute, no matter how strong you are you're just an adorable person who gets lost.

HERACLES who is optimistic as always, yes he knows you're strong but at the same time your ability to get lost makes him concerned. Wherever he is, that's where you are.

ARES who is also in disbelief that a human can be so strong in another universe, although he isn't complaining about the sweets you make him.

HERMES who appreciates you helping him with cooking, he even finds it funny how you flip anyone over for trying to eat before it's ready or trying to have sweets before dinner.

THOR who will try to fight you but instead you threw him into a chair and started braiding his hair cause "you can damage your hair if you fight with it loose honey"

ODIN who lowkey uses you as a babysitter for both Loki and Thor since you just throw them into chairs and passive aggressively treat them like children, he also likes having conversations with you, if he manages to find where you are that is.

LOKI who finds you both funny and infuriating, he can't play jokes on you cause you just disappear at the blink of an eye and can end up anywhere and when you do appear you treat him like a child who can't do anything on their own.

SHIVA who is constantly looking for you, when he does manage to find you, you two have conversations about the horrors of parenting. You two also have sparing matches and he makes sure to get all flame dance on you, you may be strong but you're not fire proof.

BUDDHA who enjoys seeing how carefree you are and how you let anyone have a slap across the face if they tell you about how you should do a certain thing.

ZERO who likes receiving piggyback rides from you, he's like a lost puppy always following you around.

BEELZEBUB who avoids you cause of his curse, although you just ignore him and help him around his lab, if it wasn't for your ability to get lost in the blink of an eye you would be a human version of the little robot that popped up one time, he does miss them.

QIN who instantly clicked with you, you both act like best friends who just saw each other in the supermarket, even if you're in a completely different dimension.

SASAKI who enjoys doing anything with you, you're both social butterflies who can't stay still, get lost? Well then, time for an adventure!

RAIDEN who also enjoys going on "adventures" with you to see where you, Sasaki, Qin and himself end up.

JACK who would like it if you sit still for more then 5 minuets, and if that miracle happens, you two have plenty of tea and talks about anything.

TESLA who after the events of a certain robot child coming into the dimension is even more curious about what other dimensions exist. You two tend to have conversations about your dimension. He also seems to always know where you are, without a GPS on you, he just knows.

ADAM who also tends to know exactly where you are, he takes joy in how you can beat a god with ease, he doesn't hate them, but they need to be taught a lesson or two.

LU BU who judged you cause you didn't look all that strong but was pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong, you two have sparing matches, he always loses but you two just go again.

[askbensolo]

Treeso and I said we’d hang out before he left. And boy, did we.

I drink sometimes, but as a rule I try not to overdo it. I don’t like feeling like I’m not in control of myself, you know?

Well, I overdid it.

See, at the cantina, they have this thing called The Chommell Sector Flight. It’s a mix-and-match menu of 36 craft beers, sourced from each of the 36 worlds in the sector. You pick six of ‘em to build your flight of sample glasses.

Well, ol’ Treesie boy decided we had to try them ALL.

Normally, I’m Treeso’s impulse control. That sounds like an absurd quantity of alcohol, I thought. I have work tomorrow, I thought.

But this is our last hurrah before Treeso moves out, I thought.

So…we ordered six flights. Treeso put more of it away than I did, but…yeah. We took a taxi home after that. And then I laid on the bathroom floor and cried ‘cause I felt so garbage. I think Treeso had fun though.

Guess what. I still made it to work today. ‘Cause I’m insane. Luckily for me, everyone at today’s team meeting was too busy circling back, dialing in, and piggybacking off of so-and-so to notice that I was mentally floating into the far reaches of space, merely a dead-eyed husk of a shell of a being.

…Which, to be honest, isn’t too far off from my normal reaction when a meeting devolves into a debate about whether or not “piggybacking” is anti-Gamorrean hate speech.

I’m feeling better now. But…yeesh. Not doing that again.

I’m gonna miss Treeso, though. I thought I hated guys like him—the class clowns, the party animals, the gym rats (or amphibians?). I guess I can be kind of judgmental. But hey, maybe I’m not always right about everything…

…Except I’m right about how Armitage and Poe are two of the most annoying nerfherders in existence. Obviously.

[abysstwins]

♡ security guards

notes !! this is a very very (!!!) self-indulgent fic for two of our headmates , and is based off a dream one of us had a week-ish ago !

includes platonic , not oc or reader insert , system centric (traumagenic) , five nights at freddy's (not canon specific) & does not match up with the timeline or events of the movie, not beta read we die like men , also small warning for the fact i'm writing this on no sleep and endless chocolate milk . bare w me </3

______________

a sound of pure frustration erupted from the opening to the left side of the office as nate stepped through the door.

"you good?" mike asked, spinning to face the man.

"mhmmm," nate hummed in response, taking a seat in the swivel chair beside mike's. "just can't seem to keep chica on stage. other two are more chill tonight than usual though, so that's nice..."

mike made a noise of acknowledgement as he pulled up the cameras. as suspected, bonnie and freddy remained motionless on the stage, but chica was missing.

"you check the kitchen?" mike's eyes drifted to his friend. nate nodded wordlessly.

a loud, metallic CLANG caught the two men's attention. nate's ears perked up, not unlike a curious dog's; a fact of which would make mike chuckle under any other circumstances. he instinctively rose from his seat first, subconsciously moving to stand in front of nate.

"chica?" mike called out. "you okay, kid?"

a slow, groaning mechanical noise gave mike all the information he needed.

"you fell, didn't you?" mike called out into the darkness before slamming his palm against the small button labeled 'lights', though the lettering has long begun peeling away.

nate desperately attempted--and ultimately failed--to conceal his giggles at the scene before the two of them. chica, in all her robotic glory, lay on her back on the cold floor, similar to a turtle being knocked over.

gently pushing past mike's wide shoulders, nate went to chica's aid.

"mikey, come help me, please," he called to his friend, still giggling. nate ignored the side eye chica threw his way.

"how'd you even manage that...?" mike whispered, a small smile on his lips.

once they'd finally straightened chica up once more, nate gently patted her hand. "wanna head back to the stage now?" there was a brief pause before chica turned back around and slowly treaded back to her spot.

after a few giggling fits, the two security guards headed back into the frigid, creaky office and took their seats. small conversation ensued until a comfortable silence fell over the two of them.

nate sighed dramatically before slowly rotating in circles in his chair. mike looked on affectionately, occasional chuckles leaving his lips as nate tried to build up momentum in the rusted old swivel chair.

"you're going to make yourself dizzy, and you'll fall, nate," mike laughed.

"no i won't. gravity's no match for me."

"ohhh, uh huh, sure," mike said, rolling his eyes with a grin. his eyes drifted to the analogue clock, the ticking a welcome and familiar sound after the many, many months working this job. "it's almost six, we should probably do a once over before we clock out for the night."

"oh, yeah, let's just-" nate came to a sudden stop before letting his legs fall from the crossed position he was previously sitting in. almost as soon as his shoes touched the cold tiles, he immediately lost balance and would have had a nasty fall had mike not jumped up just in time to grab him.

"gravity is no match for you, huh?" mike chuckled out, full blown laughter following once nate pushed his face away with his palm.

"thanks for catching me," nate laughed as he slowly regained his balance.

"anytime. want me to piggyback you?" the taller man offered, a grin erupting on his face. nate agreed, albeit reluctantly before he threw the straps of his bag over his shoulders and awaited the green light to climb onto mike's back.

after climbing onto the back of the taller man, nate rested his chin on the top of mike's fluffy, messy hair. "thanks for carrying me, didn't realize i'd get bested by gravity that easily."

mike laughed at nate's confession as he treaded out of the security office, turning off the lights as he went. they both made their way across the floors of the old, worn-down restaurant. clearing every room and making sure all animatronics were in their spots, mike continued on to the lobby of the long shut down diner until the glass of the front doors revealed the stunning view of the budding sunrise.

"almost there, kiddo," mike mumbled to nate, who sleepily hummed in response. once they exited the creaky doors, mike lifted nate's legs a bit higher on his waist before hooking his arms under the man's knees and locking the padlock, securing the chains protecting the front doors.

"lend me your keys, i'll drive, okay?"

"m'kay..." nate slid his hand into his jean pocket before dropping his keys into mike's out-stretched palm. mike moved to gently place nate into the passenger seat, watching as nate essentially curled up in his seat. he shut the door and slid into the drivers seat, cranking the car and making sure nate was buckled up. he couldn't help the laugh that escaped as nate attempted--albeit incoherently--to piece together the words to form a 'thank you'.

the drive itself was near silent, save for the occasional bump in the road causing a deep 'thump' noise. mike decided, no questions asked, to let nate crash at his place while he slept. the door opened and mike was greeted with the sight of abby long asleep on the couch, her sketchbook messily discarded on the table. her soft snores made her brother smile as he traipsed up the stairs until he stood in front of his bedroom door.

carefully placing nate under the weighted blankets on his bed, mike lazily pulled the covers over him before haphazardly plopping down beside him, the coolness of his pillow a welcome luxury from the awkward sitting position he had to maintain during work.

swiftly drifting into sleep, mike smiled as he felt nate's hand slowly grasp onto the worn fabric of mike's hoodie.

♡♡♡

hii i'm sorry this is random and pretty short .. things have been hectic for us but more specifically for me since i've been front stuck so soooo much :( just wanted to write something kinda comfy after these past few weeks </3

[quirkwizard]

Mr. Quirkwizard, as a MHA fan and as someone who likes mixing, matching and merging Quirks do you think that the main intelligent characters on the hero’s side such as principle Nezu or some other brainy character should utilize doctor Kyudai’s Quirk replication and implantation tech and his copied quirks instead of letting them go to waste? The doctor is no doubt a mad man, but his medical tech with Quirk is beyond desirable. (1/2)

The fact that he can create slightly weaker copies of “All for One” (only in storage capacity from what I’ve seen of the copies) and “Super Regeneration” is proof that this tech should be absolutely invaluable. With a copy of the “All for one” quirk plus the doctor’s medical tech, one could make a foundation that helps people with their Quirks and their Quirk’s shortcomings even though both “All for One” and the replication tech originates from mad men. The tech in my option should be used but what’s your thoughts on it? (2/2)

I'm really confused about that comment about "All For One". As far as we know, Garaki only had the one copy of "All For One" and there's nothing that implies he can copy it without All For One piggybacking off of it.

I disagree with this notion. I've already gone over the logistical issues of it. Garaki and "All For One" can't be replaced. Without "All For One" and the decades of research, trying to recreate it would be next to impossible. Garaki's still in the picture, but there's now way anyone is letting him out. Only one who has the chance is Nezu, who I'm certain that given his backstory, wouldn't to experiment on people. Even then, there are a lot of factors that we don't know about with the process with cloning and transferring Quirks. The only consistent examples we've seen are Nomus. So either working with corpses is a lot easier, if still difficult, or that it doesn't work out so well with a living target. I mean, the only living subjects we have seen with cloned Quirk is Tomura, All For One, Garaki. The latter two were helped along by "All For One" and we all saw the terrible stuff Tomura had to go to under get the original version of "All For One". Even if you discount that as Garaki stoking the hate in Tomrua, it still only one example and it isn't an amazing one.

And even if all of that worked, there's still the problem of putting multiple Quirks in people. For most people, they cannot handle multiple Quirks. You need a lot of mental and physical discipline to even handle two Quirks. The risk for things going wrong here is permanent brain damage or death. Who in their right mind would even attempt that with such a high risk, whether it be from experimentation with it or treatment? It wasn't just Garaki's experience that mattered, but that he was devoted and delusion enough to work on it. And Nezu is somewhat unstable, but he isn't psychotic. Then there is the issue of cloned Quirks being weaker then the original. Now, there isn't a lot of great examples of this, the most we have is "All For One" being cloned, but it has been stated several times to be the case. So if it does work, it won't always work out well. That's not even mentioning the myriad of ways this could be used for devious means. We've seen the kind of stuff that All For One and Garaki has done with it. Could you imagine if that was in any one else's hands?

[david-powers-simp]

What the lost boys would be like as fathers

What's good, my homies. This idea came to me and I knew I just had to write it so enjoy my peeps. I didn't proofread this either, so my apologies for any mistakes.

Also besties really quick before we get into the headcancons. I just want to thank all of you guys so much for all the likes and reblogs you've been giving me and all the sweet comments on my writing it means so much, so thank you guys 😭💖🩷

Now, I think it would be pretty interesting how the boys acquire their kids. I think it's possible the boys could get a human pregnant. But i also think the boys might would wait until their partner was a vampire before having kids. However, I have no clue how the child would grow. Would they grow normally? Would they grow rapidly? There are so many unanswered questions. So, for the sake of this fic, I am just going to say that the boys have children that grow at a relatively normal pace. Maybe a little faster than humans. But not drastically.

Marko

This man. This man right here would be such a fun dad. He would take his kids on so many adventures. Like he would go to the boardwalk and make it his mission to take his kids on every single ride so that they could have the absolute most fun possible he would also buy ~steal~ his kids anything they wanted. His little hell raiser happiness is a top priority. Yes, marko calls his kids his " little hell raiser." And yes, I've been saying kids plural because I feel marko would have more than just one little munchkin he'd have at least 3 kids. Now, I don't think he would have all his kids close together. There would definitely be a few years age gap in between. I think marko is a very fun dad and not very stern. Don't get me wrong, marko can be stern in certain situations. Like if one of his kids could've gotten serious hurt/did get serious hurt. Marko then would have to be a little stern and tell them that what they did was dangerous and not something they should be doing or should even do again. However if his kids started to cry because of his stern words hurting their feelings he'd immediately go into soft dad marko and apologized for making them upset and that he was only stern because he was scared and worried than probably offer to take his little bundle of joy out for ice cream. Also, an important note is that the age I see marko having kids between the ages of 3 - 5. So he would have a ball with all the stuff he'd get into with his babies. Piggyback rides are a must. Marko carries his kids almost everywhere. Even when him and the boys are going out, he even installs a little seat onto his motorcycle so his kid will have a place to sit and not fall off. Now, if marko had more than one little one at a time, he would have one of the other boys ~most likely dwayne~ hold onto his other munchkin.

Paul

Sweet Paul. He would be baby crazy. I see Paul having one, maybe two kids. Paul would be the dad that says yes to anything and everything. He'd be the fun dad but with no limits. That's where he's different from marko, marko also is the fun dad, but marko has boundaries. Paul, not so much. Don't get me wrong, Paul loves his babies so much, but the way Paul sees it, if they aren't going to die doing it, let them have fun. I do see Paul as a boy dad. Maybe even a boy and a girl. I think he would find his kids absolutely killer outfits for them to wear too so if he has a son hed def find and outfit for his son to match him and for his daughter he would also match her but this time hed probably put a bow in his own hair to match her. Bro, imagine how sweet paul would look with like a punk bow in his hair to match his daughter im crying. He would definitely be a cuddly dad. I can see him playing with his bundles of joy for hours before settling in for a cuddle pile with them. I think the age range for Paul's kids would be 7 - 9, so close to laddies' age. Paul definitely would show his kids his music so they can rock out together. Cartoons are a must for Paul. One day, he brought home a portable TV for the kids since the cave doesn't have electricity or power outlets, for that matter. And even since then, paul and his kiddos would be obsessed with cartoons. Everyone's favorite is definitely care bears. Paul may or may not have gotten obsessed with care bears, and he may or may not have a growing collection of stuffed care bears he's got for his kids. I could also see Paul as like a pop tart dad. He'd let his kids eat sugar if they wanted even for breakfast. Now, don't get me wrong, he'd make sure they eat healthy sometimes, but mostly, they could have whatever they wanted. Paul will 100% draw and color with his kids too. He'd spend hours with them, making different master pieces of artwork.

Dwayne

Ah, daddy dwayne. Look, dwayne is prepared to be a dad. He was born ready. I think being a parent comes so naturally to dwayne. Like the instant dwayne sees his child. boom. He's in dad mode and just knows exactly what to do. Like I'm talking, he knows when the baby is crying a certain way, dwayne knows exactly what his baby wants. I think dwayne's kids would be newborn - one year old idk I just think dwayne loves babies. He adores kids as well. But come on, I don't think any of us would complain about seeing dwayne be all soft and sweet for his little baby. Dwayne would probably have like 5 kids, so good luck. What can I say? Our man loves kids and loves sex so win win on his part. And I know im not the only one that thinks dwayne would be a girl dad. Hed make and amazing girl dad. He would cradle them so gently when they're little, but once they've gotten bigger, hed treat his daughters like absolute princesses. Hed pick them flowers, braid their hair, read to them, paint their nails. I believe in my soul that dwayne would take a scarf and wrap his kids to his chest when he's busy. This includes when he's riding his motorcycle, walking around the boardwalk just anytime, really when he needs both his hands, but his baby wants to be held. I think dwayne would be a pretty relaxed dad but very cautious. Hed make sure to keep a close eye on his kiddos so that'd they don't get hurt. He has lightning fast reflexes, too. He'd be able to see an accident waiting to happen miles away so you can be rest assured that the kids would always be in good hands with dwayne. He would be very responsible with his kids, making sure they are always safe, happy, and healthy.

David

Believe it or not, I think david really wants kids. I just think it would take a little time for him to admit it. David would be a sweet dad, just very worried and stressed, I think, at first. I see david having either one kid or four. There is no in between. He would thrive with kids ages one to two. Because for david those ages are the best because they can sit up, crawl, maybe even walk. Plus, the cute baby babbles. David would love that part. He'd definitely be over the moon his his baby started calling him "dada." He would love milestone. He'd love watching his sweet little one grow and succeed at things. I think david would either have a son or three boys and one girl. Now, with that being said. David would be very, very protective over his kids. Not a soul could speak a bad word about his precious angels, and if so, they'd end up being dead in a ditch somewhere. Simple as that. David would be stern but not overly stern. Like david would correct his kids but in a soft way. Like if his baby was trying to chew on his earring. Instead of getting frustrated or scolding his baby. David would simply pull out an antique silver teething ring he had on a chain underneath his shirt. And he would simply give it to his baby. I think david would also consistently carry his baby everywhere. Even if his little one can walk, he'd prefer to carry his baby so he knows that his son or daughter is safe. David would always be extremely alert when out with his bundle of joy. I think it would definitely take david a while before he let any of the boys watch his baby bat. Even though david does trust the boys, he believes his his baby is safest with him.

[sseanettles]

nothing grows in corpses (in the earth of me)

dream x hob gadling || mature || Finally cross-posting my take on the fandom classic of the show progresses as the comics do, even to The Wake. Until Death resurrects Morpheus and forces the choice of "redemption" upon him instead of suicide. It goes...horribly. No good. Very bad. Instead of learning the lesson, Morpheus (in his infinite wisdom) opts instead for a highly effective existence strike until one day Hob Gadling stumbles upon his ghastly handiwork and immediately decides that this just won't do. Man Who Refuses To Die vs. Man Who Refuses To Live: fight.

Dead Dove, Do Not Eat for the following: graphic depictions of starvation, illness, suicidal ideation, self-harm, blood and gore, loss of autonomy, etc. etc. This is some classic old world whump, folks! But I promise it's also supremely healing in the end.

CH. 1: wait for me (reprise) | 7.4 k | AO3 link | prev part | next part

(or: the one where The Siblings spin their web, & Hob has a dream.)

In the Dreaming, upon Grecian cliffs, Death finished her proposal and awaited her companion’s response with a smile that was no less beaming for its lack of teeth.

“I think it’s perfect,” she prompted cheerily when no reply seemed forthcoming.

Dream of the Endless’ young brow only furrowed more intensely.

“Will he not be angry?” he asked after a long moment, the words as equally uncertain—as if doubting themselves even as they were spoken, as if certain he must have missed something obvious because surely his comment should have been apparent.

Death looked over the sea, and her smile now gleamed in the last strains of the sun.

“Oh, he’ll be furious.”

Dream’s puzzlement only deepened. His hands moved with studious concentration to clasp at the small of his back.

“And…that is reason alone to do it?”

“Oh, Dream…” Death sighed and dropped her boots to the earth to clap a hand on his melodramatically flared shoulder. She beheld him with a fond sort of exasperation. “I’m your big sister, and I’ve always loved you dearly. But Morpheus has never learned a lesson without being furious the whole time.” She patted him once. “Especially the ones he needs to learn most.”

Dream’s head tilted, and she watched that distant look come over those black eyes that she had only ever seen in Despair before now—the new one. It was the look of summoning that which was not him but was. Her brother’s young face briefly twisted in a begrudging concession, and his head straightened once more upon his shoulders.

“I seem to recall this,” he admitted in a manner to match his expression.

Death clapped her black-nailed hands together and rocked onto her toes until they buried beneath the earth.

“So, it’s decided then! I’ll give him one last lesson.” She landed, flat-footed once more, and side-eyed him with an arched eyebrow. “That is, if you’re okay with it?”

She watched him once more retreat into the multiplicity of the self, watched that ponderous distance come over him. When he returned, it was with quiet decision.

“…Yes,” he said. “I believe we are.”

Death’s beam returned.

“Peachy keen.”

They stood together on the cliff’s edge, basking in the golden warmth, and watched the sun sink into the Aegean Sea. For a time, there was only them, the sound of gulls overhead and surf as it rolled in and out…an endless, cosmic metronome.

Dream turned.

“Thank you, my sister.”

Death smiled at his quiet earnestness, the deep well of gratitude in a voice that had not yet forgotten how to give it.

“You’re welcome, little brother.” She sighed and bent down to pick up her boots. “You should call him now. Tell him to piggyback off my exit.”

She waited, watching as he stepped aside to one of the trees for a modicum of privacy. It was not really necessary, but it was cute to see how awkward he still was about it all. Like a young foal still learning how to coordinate his limbs. Those black void eyes slipped shut in a porcelain pale face set aglow by the sun, and he spoke under his breath with a bowed head as he raised his hands before himself, palms up, in quiet supplication.

He was just wrapping up when there came a flutter of wings, and a raven lit upon his shoulder.

Death smiled and waved as she moved to leave. “Hello, Matthew.”

The bird pivoted to face her, balancing himself with his beak as he moved and flapping his wings a bit as he negotiated the extravagant garment.

“My Lady,” he bowed, suitably situated.

Dream turned back, and Matthew gurgled indignantly as he once again had to shuffle around.

“He has heard me,” he said and returned to her side at his graceful pace.

She nodded and tapped the back of her fingers to his elbow with that soft smile of hers.

“Then, I’ll see you around.”

Hob Gadling finally let his hands tug free of his hair with a heavy, body-wracking sigh and his anger enough released to leave him now with only utter exhaustion. He surveyed the derelict pub.

“Suppose there’d be an awful neatness to dying here, wouldn’t there?” he murmured and rocked to his feet with the aching slowness of ancient, rain-deadened joints. “Goin’ on to whatever it is one goes on to…” He ran his fingers along one of the pillars. Splinters of wood flaked away with him, rotted and termite-shredded. “Like coming full circle…”

Death rose from her seat in a whisper of silver-grey, her dark fingers still laced together. Hob moved cautiously about the room. The shadows grew long in his face the further he drew from the lamp; the hollows of his eyes grew dark.

“Like the last six hundred and thirty-five years were nothing more than a dream I had in the White Horse…” He continued to slowly circle, to drink in and memorize and feel and smell and see and taste all that he could in his shrinking world. “One last wondrous tale sparking between the failing synapses in my brain….” His softly treading feet carried him back to where he’d begun, and he stared at the empty table between him and the bench where he had sat, both then and now. The whole space glowed in the lamp light just as it had in 1389, and for a moment, he could see himself.

Could see him slumped face-first beside his shitty ale, just as Death had promised.

That pressure pulsed once more in his chest and jaw and arm, a church bell’s sepulcher toll.

“But really, I never left,” Hob mumbled, as if to himself, as if alone in that mausoleum of a time long past. Death watched him in shadowed silhouette and waited. “I was always just there, fading into oblivion over a pint. None the wiser.”

“Is that what you want, Hob?” He looked to her: leaned there against the mantle where he had stood. “If it is…I can give it to you.”

Death’s hands parted. And one lifted, a warm, earthen shade amid the dark, until it reached for him through the gloom.

She no longer smiled.

“Just take my hand.”

The lamp flickered as its batteries neared their own ends. For a moment, Hob Gadling swore he saw the shape of mighty wings in the shadows behind her, rising from their slump in the dust like great, welcoming arms.

His Stranger’s eyes flashed in his memory: pale, mournful ocean eyes that glistened with tears as they beheld him at his lowest. As they watched him drowning and drowned in turn beside him in pity, in sorrow, in…in now, Hob knew, the deepest empathy. He heard that voice as deep as seas even now, as velvet black as the night he walked.

“So, do you still wish to live?”

Hob Gadling breathed in until he could breathe no more and stepped back with a shake of his head. If he had been paying attention to the face above the hand he now refused, he would have seen the flash of relief in Death’s eyes.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said and was startled by how dry his throat was, a desert where once it had been gummed shut, “I really do. But,” he shook his head again, firmer now, surer, and hiked up his tunic hem to shove his hands into his jean pockets—just to make his choice unmistakable. “I don’t think so, love, thanks. I’m not ready to die.”

A wry smile touched his mouth that even now tried on reflex to curve back into its customary expression. But even it broke a touch on his next phrase.

“I’ve got so much to live for.” The full saying, the full oath, was not hers to hear. It belonged only to Him. He scuffed a toe in the dust and straw, the humidity dampening the cloud that followed and settling it almost as soon as it rose. “Anyway,” he shrugged. His smile half-heartedly returned, sheepish this time. “Gwen’d kill me.”

Death took back her hand and shoved off the wall with an understanding nod.

“Alright,” she gently smiled and made her way to pass him for the door. “See you in 2089?”

Hob stifled a small, pained noise of surprise. She had meant nothing cruel by the simple question, he knew, but all the same he swallowed its gut punch, even as he felt the wetness resurge in its wake. It was cold this time, cold and sucking, like mud and peat and bogs and moors in the winter. It came on faster than the volcanic heat of anger, and Hob felt the beginnings of panic as it flooded his eyes, his nose, his heart—as it filled him with the swift mercilessness with which water filled a drowning man.

Hob was built to survive Hell’s flames, to temper himself within rage’s forge. He had done it many times before and would do it many times again. He was a man born of spite and lived as such.

But drowning…oh, Hob had so frequently drowned.

This he could not withstand for long and could not bear to fall to it in another’s company.

“Y-Yeah,” he managed to answer, as wobbly as a still-wet fawn. “Yeah, sounds good.”

His hand flexed at his side, and he counted how many heartbeats fit within each unsteady breath he took as Death passed him by, squeezing his shoulder with a gentle smile as she went. He might have returned the expression and gesture. He certainly had intended to do so. It was His sister, after all. But he might have also just stood there like a casting, fighting to keep his fault lines together as finally, finally they shook apart.

Those levees, first fissured by heat then turned brittle by cold, creaked and groaned and split in a racing domino, and he begged Death’s Angel in jaw-aching silence to leave as quickly as she could, to please spare him this indignity—

The door creaked shut with that dying breath.

And then, there was only him and the dark and the lamp and the table where a meeting would never come again, and Hob bowed his head to his dirtied hands with a loud, ugly sob. It tore through him just shy of a wail, nearly dropped him at his knees, and he stumbled hard into the table and bench. His shins shrieked, his knees quick behind them, and he would have sworn, as loud and foul as a sailor, if he hadn’t instead used the precious, rattling gasp of air he took to keep himself from passing out as, finally, the tears came in full.

He sagged atop the table, very much alive, and downed the rest of his crappy beer between sobs. Finally, he could see the bottom of the blasted tankard, and he hoped this would be the final bit to kick him over the edge to wasted numbness.

All the while, his Stranger sat opposite him with that smile…that honest to god smile with blood in his cheeks and a foreign, settled air about him that was so strange to behold but suited him so well….

Late but there.

He was slouched a bit, not sitting all proper and stiff and practically perched at the edge of his seat in readiness to flee as he had been in every prior meeting they’d had. His long, lanky legs extended beneath the table as he settled in, boots bumping briefly against Hob’s own before quickly correcting back into their own space.

Late, but there….

A tiny, broken part of Hob still held out desperately for the fake pub doors to open with that ghastly sound, one last time.

Please, just once more, he begged. Just once more as I finish this pint.

C’mon, Stranger. 

The door did not open. There was no one left to open it.

He hid his face within the folds of his arms atop the table, and he finally succumbed to the weight of water that dragged at him like hands, vanishing below the surface. His shoulders quaked in jack-knifing inhales and sobbing exhales. His hands alternated between desperate claws that held to nothing at all and helpless, trembling fists that closed on all they could touch and even that which they could not: his clothes, his hair, the lamp-lit dark. And his voice disintegrated to piteous sounds of heartbreak and lonely sorrow honored in song and tragic tale for as long as humankind had breathed.

His Stranger smiled opposite him.

His Stranger would never smile again. Would never pointedly avoid food or drink around him again, would never give cryptic advice and sarcastic commentary again, would never set foot within Hob’s dreams or his New Inn again, would never….

Gone. Lost. Finished. Over. Ended.

Dead.

‘S not fair, Hob wanted to sob to the universe, wanted to yell and scream and berate. I just got him back—it’s not fair.

Instead, he used the meager breaths he stole between sobs to keep afloat and to fuel the next heart-rent sound.

I hate you.

Stranger, I hate you.

Dream of the Endless watched Death vanish around a bend in the cliff trails, watched her hair move with her barefooted gait, watched the sun glow off her salt-kissed skin. He had barely begun to reflect on how he could only hope that she knew what they were doing, that this was, in fact, the best course of action, when a rumbling warble struck the Dreaming. It was the metaphysical shift of something Other, of intrusion undetectable to any but the newly reborn plane itself, and it resonated in the land’s very fabric and so in turn resonated in him. The young King’s calm demeanor stuttered into something that could almost be named a flinch and then, with little warning, deepened.

“Whoa!” Matthew flapped as the boy beneath him swayed, and a pale hand extended for the tree beside them as his equilibrium wavered alongside his Kingdom’s. “Whoa, kid—” Matthew nipped at the boy’s white tresses in an alarmed preen, his taloned grip shifting on his shoulder. “You okay?”

Dream blinked: tight, slow, deep, a clearing of that obsidian vision as he stared far beyond the sands beneath them. He leaned a touch more firmly against the tree, grounding himself in the scent of its leaves and the feel of its bark—things wholly of his own creation. The disruption in the core of his being, in those spaces where Daniel had once held bones and viscera and Dream now only held the unfathomable, eased.

“He has entered the Dreaming.”

Matthew’s feathers raised in a vibrating ruffle that left him nearly twice his already impressive size, and his head whipped to and fro as it lowered from the height of his Lord’s temple to his jaw. His wings snapped open in low-hanging challenge. His talons flexed and pried from their embedding within Dream’s extravagant pauldron, preparing to take flight at the slightest command.

“Who?” he demanded, the croak all but a growl, and a flash of warmth pulsed through his Lord at the display.

Posturing as if he were as mighty as the Palace guardians and not a bird approximately the size of a Jack Russell Terrier.

“Such protectiveness,” he murmured. Matthew let out an indignant grumble of a trill at the equal measure of gentle ribbing and affection in that voice that still seemed too big, too grand, for its body. Dream recovered, straightening with all the grace of a sleep specter, and answered his companion’s question. “My brother.”

Whatever defiance Matthew possessed fled like blood from a struck jugular, like a shock correcting an attack dog’s bullish posturing. His feathers slammed flat once more, his grip redoubling into Dream’s regalia, and his hunch snapped up to the tallest crane he could manage. His legs and neck stretched to their limit as his beady eyes scoped all they could set their sights upon for the slightest sign of the only brother that came to mind.

“Destiny?!” he squawked and nearly startled right off the Endless’ shoulder as one slim, paper-white hand rested upon his trembling back with steadying calm.

“No,” he assured and only lifted his hand away when he felt the feathers relax and settle into their usual light ruffle as the raven processed his words in first bafflement and then mild dismay. “Leave us, Matthew.”

“Uhh,” Matthew gurgled. He leaned forward with a tilted head to peer into the closest of Dream’s black eyes even as he prepared to begrudgingly obey. “You sure?”

“I am,” Dream promised with a mild, amused smile playing at his lips for a moment before once more stilling into their usual solemn line. He offered his hand to the raven, and he reluctantly stepped up onto the steel-cord fingers. “Lucienne will have also felt the disturbance of his arrival,” he said and moved at an easy yet careful pace to extend his arm for Matthew’s departure. “Assure her that all is well. It is merely a family matter.”

Matthew cast him a truly baleful eye.

“I don’t think those two things go together,” he began and sighed with a still-so-human shake of his head, “but okay, kid. You got it.”

And with a bow, a bend, and wing-spreading leap, Matthew took to the air, setting off swiftly in the direction of the palace where Lucienne was no doubt pacing in worry and summoning staff to scour the Dreaming for the source of the incursion. All would be well.

Dream reflected that this would be a perfect time to take a deep breath, if that was something he needed to do. He tried it. It felt…nice, he supposed. He took another one. Yes. Nice was the correct word. His hands rested at the small of his back, loosely looped together by his fingers and hidden within the cascade of his sleeves.

All would be well.

“You summoned me?” a great voice echoed.

Dream looked in the direction Death had departed and watched a hulking figure with long red hair and a well-kept, once-wild beard hike toward him. He had a bindle propped over one shoulder, and his boots, work pants, and pullover were stained with every kind of paint, dye, and chalk known to man, all of which Dream knew were presently crammed in the most haphazard of manners into the messenger bag slung heavily across his chest.

“I was not sure you would come,” he admitted, and the Prodigal shrugged.

“I was intrigued,” he said at a volume that was somehow both quieter and still just as loud. “Figured I’d risk it.”

He closed the last of the distance between them and after a moment smiled down at his sibling with a mischief that had Dream’s eyes narrowing.

“Besides,” he grinned, “I think you’re cute, little brother! Look at you—” He moved with a swordsman’s surprising speed to pull Dream close with one arm around the shoulders and pinched his still slightly baby-faced cheek with the other. “—you’re all soft and squishy still!”

Dream intercepted him too late and a touch more slowly than Destruction knew he was capable; he smiled to himself as he was pushed away but commented nothing further.

“I believe I am still your elder,” Dream scolded and adjusted the lie of his clothes.

“Sure, you are,” Destruction smirked. “So….”

He drove his bindle in the ground, gripping the wood with both hands like the hilt of a great sword planted tip-first into the soft earth, and let his weight shift to a single leg. They stood there, side by side, and watched the coast for a bit. The Prodigal squinted into the lengthening sun and the gentle wind while beside him Dream weathered the coastline unbothered.

It was…peaceful. Wonderfully so.

Despite his best efforts, Destruction found he did not do peaceful. He let his attention drift from the both beautiful and tragically familiar vista to his brother.

“…What did you need?”

Dream looked to his feet, and if Destruction did not know better, he would have said that, for a moment, the Great Dream Of The Endless seemed unsure of himself.

“…A favor,” he eventually said.

Destruction’s brow raised.

“Oh?”

“Death and I are about to grant…” he hesitated, seeking a word, and ultimately decided upon “…a boon.” He looked to the sun, to the sea it ignited, and to the azure blue waters that met the glowing sand. He looked to the beach and tried to prepare himself for what was to come next. He spoke, and he spoke with the weight of one who had put a great deal of thought into his words and who uttered them now with the grim resolve of a monarch issuing a solemn decree. “I would ask that you be present after the fact. To…help him settle.”

Destruction leaned now upon the bindle itself as he peered into his brother’s face. He still refused to meet his eye, and after a bit, Destruction shook his head in slow marvel. He felt like he should grin at the fact that his brother was obviously, finally, partaking in some inter-sibling troublemaking. But Dream’s strange, dogged gravity kept him from jumping too quickly to celebrate.

“What did you two cook up?”

Dream supposed this would be a time that mortals swallowed. He tried it. It did not ease the anticipatory anxiety that hummed away lowly within him.

“A final lesson.”

At the Renaissance Faire, in Ye Olde Pub, Hob had finally, finally tipped over the edge to drunk. He knew he had reached that blessed milestone at last because his thoughts were now maudlinly poetic, the sort of heavy, soul-crushing lyricism that only anciently long life could grant. In this state, he could’ve put Will fuckin’ Shaxberd to shame, if only he were coherent enough to connect mind to tongue and then to hand, to pour the thoughts and emotions that sparked abstractly within his drowned mind into something that lasted.

He'd never quite managed it over the centuries though he had tried, and here in the graveyard of an age past, he seemed doomed to fail at it again. He was thinking the most lyrical things of symmetry: of life’s start and its end and how there were multiples of each that all fed and led into each other and that could not be quantified by most until they had already reached the end of it all, and it was such a waste to only see it all then, wasn’t it? Such a waste to not see it, to not see the grand design of chaos and cause and effect until there was no more of it to have, and so here he sat—the man behind the curtain of it all, if he chose to pay attention. And hoo boy, was he paying attention now.

He thought of his Stranger, as old and expansive as he had been, so sure in his immensity that the true grasp of existence was to see the forest for the trees, when really it was always the other way ‘round. It was the other way ‘round, it always had been; the wonder of life, the purpose of it, the why of it, it was in the trees…it was always in the trees, in the people around them, in playing cards and handkerchiefs and electricity and lightning captured in a bottle, in the same jokes they told century after century, in children’s handprints in Paleolithic caves placed on walls far higher than they could have reached because parents have always lifted their children to participate in the world they could not touch even thousands of years ago, in people and the choices they made and then made again and again and again and again, until they learned better—and God’s wounds, did Hob hope and dream that they each and all reached a day when they learned better—and that everyone held within themselves their own symmetry.

Everyone was what they once were and what they would be, a start and an end, a beginning and a finish. Everyone was dead and alive all at once, all the time.

They only had to pay attention.

One day, Hob knew, he would end. Law of nature, wasn’t it? Earth would one day burn in the heart of an expanding star and would become uninhabitable long before then. Even if he could finagle his way to be granted continued life on another habitable planet, just to see how it would all continue to go, this universe would falter, gutter out, and die. One day, Hob Gadling would end. He would go on to what came next, if for no other reason than the lights were going out on the whole universe and there was no more life to be had, by anyone, by anything, anywhere.

It would just be him and Death, alone at the end of all things. Hand in hand, going out of the universe.

And he found himself thinking, as his head sagged upon his arms atop the tacky table, how much he would like to see His Old Friend again at the end of all that. He found himself thinking of taking a pale white hand and looking into shining pale blue eyes cut by a mess of bedraggled inky hair as he did, instead of earthen warm skin and full kinky hair and grave dirt eyes that all glowed with the comfort of a fading hearth. He wondered if she would allow it…if she would allow him to come with her to collect him.

At the end of all things, Robert Gadling, upon Earth’s scorched remains or upon the surface of some foreign world as the last of the stars went out, wanted to look up and see him. He would pull that threadbare, weathered glove from where he had tucked it against his chest—snatched up and pressed there ever since his Stranger had cast it between them in a year once called 1389 upon a planet once called Earth—and hand it back to him so very, desperately well-loved.

What tales he would have to tell him then, enough for eternity.

And his Stranger would take it…

And his Stranger would take his hand with it….

And then, they’d…

And then, he’d…

…fall asleep.

Destruction laughed, a guffawing sort of thing, and both he and Dream gazed over the edge of the cliff to the far end of the beach as a fissure split along the rockface where the coastline curved out into the sea. That disturbance returned, different from the Prodigal’s arriving. This sounded like the rush of a great flock taking to the sky. It rippled through the Dreaming, vibrated like wind through wing feathers…like the slow, final exhale that passed from failing lungs. 

The split widened and molded and grew until the mouth of a cave remained.

Dream swore, for a moment, that he heard a whisper of a song that would have taken his predecessor out at the knees, would have felled him like a brittle tree long dead and hollow.

Would’ve ripped him to shreds with all the mercy shown by Dionysian revelers in lawless woods.

“Ohh,” Destruction sighed with a wicked delight. He had his arms crossed over his chest now, hugging his bindle to himself. “He is not going to be happy with this.”

“No,” Dream agreed. “No, he is not. But it is…necessary.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” his brother replied, still smirking, and watched beyond the bulky cross of his arms as a vague shape emerged from the cave mouth far below. It started as a shimmering, a shade against the beach that gradually took form until a dark-clothed figure with pale skin and a shock of black hair remained to pick its mindless way along the sand. He angled his head toward his sibling but took care to turn only so far so as not to take his eyes off the newcomer’s progression. “Desire and Despair know about this, yet?”

Dream watched the figure, too, his inkwell eyes glittering in a painstakingly neutral face.

“No.”

“Del?”

“No.”

“Destiny?”

“One would assume.”

Destruction laughed and laughed and laughed, and it sounded of thunder and mortar fire. He grinned, as broad as the side of a barn.

“This is gonna be terrible.”

Terrible, fantastic—Dream was not yet familiar enough with the Prodigal to know for certain which meaning that delivery carried, and he was not sure if even his predecessor would have had any better insight. But he watched all the same as his hulking sibling stepped off the cliff’s end with a careless sort of grace to land in an earth-shaking kneel far below. And as he rose from the resulting crater in the sands, dusting off his pants, another form began to take shape further down the beach.

Hob Gadling sighed in the warmth of the sun, the salt air heavy in his lungs and the sand hot about his half-buried feet. His throat was not sore. His eyes were not swollen. His chest did not hurt, and his mind was not fogged with the haze of alcohol. For a moment, he lingered there, in that orange-red-pink of sun-backed eyelids gently shut. The driftwood beneath him had been polished to smoothness by a combination of the waves, wind, and sand, and when he opened his eyes to look down, he found the aged wood peppered with lichen and tufts of ice plant where sprouts had taken hold in the pockets of earth and sand that filled in the wood. The trunk itself was massive, the remains of a tree that had been felled and, at some point, washed back up by the sea where it now lay, half-buried upon the coast from whence it had come by the storms and tides and winds.

He reached for one of the blossoms, rubbing the fuchsia petals between his fingers, and looked about the beach.

He didn’t recognize the cliffs. Nor did he recognize the vibrant aqua-azure waters or the curving beach that led into them. Perhaps it was Greece…he did not believe he’d been to Greece in the last couple centuries, but life was a long thing for him, and he had seen a great many coastlines in his time. So, who could say for sure?

He must have been recently enough, though, because the longer he spent wondering where he was, the more certain he became that it was Greece. Somewhere in the Aegean Sea, even.

Hm. Odd, but he had experienced odder.

And there were certainly far worse places to be.

He had just closed his eyes again, breathing deeply, sinking into the sensation of being, when he became aware of footsteps behind him.

They were methodical even in the shifting sands, placed with a quiet focus Hob knew as well as his own stride. And as he turned to face the small dune rise behind him, he spied the top of a very familiar head of wild raven hair. And he could only watch, transfixed with wide eyes, barely daring to breathe, as….

“Stranger?”

There he stood! As plain as the daylight that illuminated them both and reflected in those pale blue eyes that smiled down at him in that ever-enigmatic way of his. It ignited his paper pale skin until it looked almost human, lent a liveliness to his angular features and a comforting warmth to the long coat that came to close about his black-booted feet as he stilled.

Just as tall, just as sharp-boned, just as skinny and decked out in head-to-toe black as he had always been.

The Stranger’s lips curved in that barest smirk of his, the one that had set Hob’s heart racing back in 1389 and never once let it slow since.

Hello, Hob Gadling.

He had not spoken the words, but Hob heard them in his heart, borne on his memory and spoken in the curve of those lips, and just like that he was on his feet. He vaulted the driftwood in a practiced leap, and his Stranger only had time to widen his eyes, to take the smallest of steps back, before Hob locked his arms around him.

“My Friend!” he laughed, the sound as bright and glittering as the setting sea beside them.

…As bright as his eyes that burned and stung as he fought the urge to bury his face into the meeting of his Stranger’s neck and shoulder. He forced his hands to stay open and lift to pat the spindly back beneath them, to not fist into this inky coat that he had never once even dared to touch before now.

“Oh faith,” he pulled back, holding his friend at arm’s length and grinning that eye-creasing, beaming grin of his, that contagious thing that lit up rooms and defied Death to her face with raised glass and a winking eye. “It’s good to see you, Old Friend.” He clapped his shoulder, drinking him in head to toe with that same, head-shaking wonder. “What are you doing here?”

His Stranger seemed uncertain, his gaze shifting from Hob’s face to take in the beach in turn as if he, too, did not quite know where they were or why they had come to be here. But as his lips began to part, the barest of openings, a boisterously loud voice burst forth.

“We’re going on a journey!” it boomed, and Hob jumped. “Don’t you know?”

Who’s this now?

From behind Hob trudged a mountain of a man, with long, wavy red hair pulled back in a ponytail by leather cord and both a beard and a bear-like physique that would’ve put a lumberjack to shame. This was a man who could split wood with his bare hands if not fell the whole tree, and yet he carried with him naught but a bindle tied off at the end with a red handkerchief spotted with white polka dots. His boots were stained with chalk, as were the knees and shins of his paint-streaked work pants, and his green pullover bore the faded marks of old stains he’d managed to scrub clean.

Wait. Hob did know him. In London, ages ago—he’d met a pavement artist armed with an impressively expansive chalk kit. He’d been nice enough but a bloody useless artist despite the quality of his tools. Hob had stayed, chatted with him for a bit, fumbled to find something nice to say about the mess scrawled across the ground between them, and gone on his way.

Now, what was he doing here?

“The three of us?” Hob asked.

“In a fashion,” the artist said and settled between them with a broad grin of his own. It was not a grin like Hob’s. It was bigger, yet emptier at the same time. It made Hob think of battle frenzy, and if he had been anywhere and any-when else, he thought he might have reached for a subtle weapon of his own. Here though, it only made an odd sort of sense. As if, despite the initially bewildering nature of his arrival, of course the pavement artist was supposed to be here. “Think of me as The Ferryman.” He waggled the bindle atop his shoulder. “Got my stick and everything.”

Hob looked to his Stranger and the last of his confusion faded away beneath his friend’s persevering smile. They were all meant to be here: the three of them.

It was a bit odd for his Stranger to be so silent, let alone to hold that smile of his for so long. It was as if he were waiting for something, processing the world on a bit of a lag or through a fog. And looking at him, Hob became so sure that there was something he had to ask him. It had been important, it was….

His Stranger patiently, silently, held his eyes. And that Mona Lisa smile dimmed in tandem with the shift in Hob’s own mind as he realized.

No. No, not realized. As he remembered.

The question didn’t really matter, did it? It didn’t matter, because….

Hob swallowed. His hand, he realized, still held his Stranger’s arm.

“You’re dead, aren’t you?” The Stranger’s gaze fell for a moment; Hob’s heart twisted. “…And this is just a dream.”

That dark head nodded, wordless still even as the pavement artist began to laugh a laugh as loud as cannons that set Hob’s ears ringing, and he couldn’t help but laugh along in that way that one did things in dreams that they wouldn’t have in life. The Stranger remained silent and still as Hob’s hand left him to bury in his hair in marvel.

Because of course he was. Of course.

He’d been the King of Dreams, hadn’t he? This…this was just a gift of farewell from a newly-coronated successor.

Hob quieted and sniffled, wiping briefly at his nose as he squinted into the sun. It was almost gone now, sinking below the sea and setting it aflame as it went.

Well, that was alright, then. He knew how to accept a gift.

“Alright, then.” He smiled softly at his Stranger, his King. His Endless. And he did the other thing he had never dared to do in life, for he knew now it would have no consequence.

He held out his hand.

“You ready?”

And because this was a dream, his Stranger peered at his hand, blinked owlishly once, and then reached to take it in the same measured way in which he walked.

He was cooler than Hob had anticipated given the sun, his skin a touch firmer than natural with an odd sort of yield to it. As if he were more packed down into something that was only human shaped.

He was everything Hob had ever dreamed, and his smile grew back into that boundless thing. He ignored the watery burn in his eyes.

“C’mon then,” he winked. “I’ve got so much to show you.”

And the three of them walked off together, the pavement artist straying from them a bit and leaving Hob and his Stranger to walk alongside one another—shoulders knocking on every other step, tightly clasped hands hidden in the folds of the coat.

“Robbie?”

Into the sunset.

“…Robbie…”

Into the end of the story.

“…it’s time to wake up.”

Destruction paused and looked back as three sets of footsteps in the sand became two and sighed as he saw only Morpheus, standing alone in that same sort of baffled, half-awake manner on the shores of a kingdom that had once been his.

“Looks like our friend had to wake up, then, huh?” he said and glanced to his left as Dream of the Endless made his way to them across the beach, his white gleaming in the sun’s last rays. “That’s alright. You and I have to do the rest of this on our own anyway, brother.”

Morpheus blinked again, struggling to straighten thought from perception. The world felt far away, felt heavy and light at the same time, felt like grabbing at mists and impressions. The Sunless Lands worked quickly, it seemed.

Destruction. He thought that great figure ahead of him might be Destruction. And this…this beach, it felt familiar, the very fabric of it, the taste of its particles in some near-forgotten way. The visual of it of course, too, was familiar in a manner that seemed great and terrible all at once and warned him to not try too hard to remember. But the issue of the space’s essence occupied more of his attention, perturbed him further.

…The Dreaming?

Yes. Yes, it must’ve been. Hob Gadling had certainly been there. While much else had been fogged and difficult to discern, that had been crystalline. He could still feel the weight of the man’s hand in his own, the crush of his arms around him in a lingering echo, and he recalled enough about his existence to know the immortal would not have yet relinquished Death’s boon. Given that and the fact that this was certainly not the Waking, that left only one place they could have been.

Even his friend’s name rested heavy upon his tongue and mind, grounding and real and true.

…Gadling.

It had been…good to see him, one last time.

Perhaps that was all this had been: a final mercy from his sister and the Prodigal, a chance to say the one remaining farewell that mattered free from the weight of impending doom. A chance to apologize for not fulfilling his final request.

I worry, Gadling had said that final night in the street, staring into his eyes with such earnest concern while the snow fell about them. His breath had fogged before his cold-bitten lips, his breath as passionately warm as the rest of him. The air before Dream’s mouth had remained undisturbed. He’d not practiced consistent breathing since Burgess suffocated him for a century, after all, and when he’d reattempted it since, especially of late, he’d found his breath to be cold. You take care of yourself. 

Take care of himself.

If Morpheus had the energy or cogency, he would have laughed. But as it stood, all he could manage was this listless, half-present stand amid a sunset-bathed beach. He was tired, so very tired still. All of this—the surf, the sand, the sun, the azure waters that all wailed with grief and pain in parts of his withered mind he fought to keep forgotten—belonged to Then. He had made his choices in that time; he existed Now. In the Now, he had accepted his consequence, and as…as good as it had been to see his friend again, it was time to go once more.

“You know,” Destruction said as he watched Morpheus’s dazed attention begin to wander, searching, no doubt, for their sister and the road back. “I almost pity him.”

Dream looked on beside him, his eyes almost sad.

“The realization will not be pleasant,” he agreed.

“Sweet dream,” Gwen smiled in a parking lot outside a Renaissance Faire in North Carolina and prodded her still yawning boyfriend toward their car as he finished his tale. The rain had stopped, and the day’s sun began its own setting arc. “So…what was it?”

Curious. Morpheus did not see Death anywhere. Perhaps…perhaps this was something different, then. Perhaps…

A figure in white stood beside the man he had since confirmed to be Destruction, and Morpheus faltered. It was a face he had once known and at an age he had not seen since the dawning of the universe. It watched him now with such a complicated expression he couldn’t parse in his current state.

But he knew the creature’s name. It had once been his own.

Was…was this Lucienne’s offering extended to him, then? The existences of Cain, Abel, and Eve now made his own? Continuation as a dream, rather than the Dream?

Perhaps.

Dream of the Endless started toward him, solemn beyond his years.

His head hurt.

“What was what?” Hob asked as they reached the car.

Gwen gave him a look that clearly warned him to stop playing; the headlights flashed twice as the car unlocked. Overhead, the oil-slick storm clouds began to part, and the sun shone through.

“The end of the story,” she needled and ducked into the driver’s seat.

Morpheus watched Dream come, like a rabid animal barely able to see straight, awaiting its executioner. But there was no such cruelty in the young Endless’ face as he arrived before him, the same height as his predecessor by nature and yet somehow so much greater at the same time. He regarded Morpheus with immense weight, the heaviness of a monarch above his subject with passing judgement ready in his waiting hand.

“You will appreciate this in time, Morpheus,” he intoned with mercy-filled eyes.

The New King of Dreams raised his hand in a motion intimately known, and Morpheus barely had time to register his fate, the truth of it, its horror, before the sand beneath their feet began to rise.

“Forgive me the coming shock.”

“Ah, well.” Hob teased as he buckled in. “There’s only one way to end a story, really.”

Gwen twisted the key in the ignition.

“Don’t tell me,” she groaned. “They all lived happily ever after?”

“This dream…”

Hob’s sunshine smile hesitated, bathed in the golden hour that filtered through the dusty windshield. The distant highway roar turned to surf, near-forgotten in the Waking.

“…is over.”

Morpheus awoke in knifing panic, sprawled on his back in the dark. And promptly sucked down two lungsful of warm Aegean seawater.

Hob recovered and grinned.

“…That’s the one.”

[bengiyo]

My School President Ep 5 Stray Thoughts

I'm so glad to be back with this show. Thankfully we took a break at what felt like the end of an act. I'm still not over the pinky clasp from the last episode, and am very excited to see where the acknowledged attraction takes these boys next. Also, I really like Sound as a character, and hope he causes more complications.

Ah, a jaded school counselor. Time to think about the future and face the reality that your dream job might not be attainable or give you the life you want.

I like this opening scene. It's very stylish. Placing all of the students in the same framing reinforces the common experience for all of the characters. It's easy to see how a counselor ends up feeling this way, when you watch so many students' lives take a different turn.

Also, Mark Pakin is really good.

Poor Gun. He was having a lot of fun with his friends and staring into the middle distance, but now he has to accept that maybe they're not as committed to music as him.

I'm still floored by the opening song being a torch passed down to this club about how they have each other's backs. It's still affecting me this week.

It's a bit subtle, but I like the way Gemini is playing Tinn as more relaxed about approaching Gun now. Fourth does a good job responding so quickly to it as if it's a matter of fact now. They're a solid pair.

Gun didn't ask, but I want to know what Tinn is interested in as a profession.

Time to revive the #they are literally always flirting tag

The mom's collapsed is executed really well here. The boys are just flirting as they do before the jarring crash behind them. As with all major life events, they happen suddenly and without warning.

She collapses like this all the time? What the hell??

Of course Tinn is going to offer to help his prospective boyfriend and hopefully-future mother-in-law. Gun's little appreciative smile is all the reward our simp needs.

Tinn's characterization is so consistent. He's at his best, bravest, and most endearing when he's helping. Gun is getting a bit nervous, so Tinn suggests a practice dish. Gun gets nervous about how good it is, so Tinn just takes a big bite. Gun is clearly enamored as a result.

Oh ho! Our first signs of mild jealousy and possessiveness from Gun. He was very polite about telling those girls to back off. Kaojao (SCOY) would be proud.

Again, Tinn is finally comfortable enough with Gun that he's only amused when Gun clings to him when the lights went off, and is able to teasingly deflect about how much devotion he's shown.

Ah, the answer to my question: Despite his hardworking nature, Tinn doesn't know what he wants for himself.

Gun loves his mom so much. It's lovely.

Oh no. Looks like the shop isn't doing so well. Gun's whole world is cracking apart.

Hey, Fourth is also pretty good. It felt like that was the first time he's said he'd cut our Hot Wave aloud, and we could see his heart break immediately.

Win's clicks on the controller don't match any gameplay I recognize. (I'm just being silly. I know he's acting.)

Our best boy Tiwson is gonna keep us focused on the prize.

I love Gun's mom. She absolutely knows that Tinn likes Gun, and is only nudging enough to make sure Gun doesn't give up on himself for her. We stan.

I am obsessed with Tinn's jogging outfit. Did they intentionally put him in almost-lesbian-flag colors?

The BL Juice has made its appearance.

Oh it's been a good minute since I've seen a piggyback ride.

Tiwson is going to fix this entire band. Now Por is getting a push.

Yes, boys, let's flirt over a fake interview.

RAP OF WAR CONTEST. Love this energy.

Sometimes you need a rival to make you determined enough to push past your stage fright. Curious where Win and Sound end up.

Is Tinn is a GMM office?? LOL

Oh, Tinn is lying to his mom now. I will remember this seed for later.

This producer looks a little bit like Alanis Morissette. Too bad she has to disappoint our boys.

His name is Winny Da Pooh. I'm going to ascend.

Sound isn't a total ass. Look at him saving Win and giving him a shove.

Oh no the sunshine boy is breaking down. It's always sad, but it really is one of the best parts of any drama.

Business Administration? Baby boy, no.

That's right, Mom. Rebuild your son with the power of music.

It's like Au watched Rainbow Prince and was PISSED that The Philippines beat them to a musical. I'm absolutely here for the whole cast singing. Love that we got the band back together.

But also, I wanted to hear Winny Da Pooh rap.

This show's comedic timing is genuinely funny. "I can put my mind at ease..." Into Gun running screaming into the room. Perfect.

Ah good. Gun now finally understands Tinn's motivations. Not an episode 5 kiss, but close to it on the moving forward phase.

[blorbosdotcom]

Goofy Movies/Panjosé RP Post.

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Basic Information.

STATUS: 

Open (1/3.)

Disclaimers/notices:

As I am 18+, I do not roleplay with minors. I am just not comfortable with it whatsoever especially since the genres I tend to write.

I try to keep my portrayals close to canon, though I do tend to add my own personal flare to them as well. If you do something similar/have headcanons about the canon you're portraying, please reach out! I think adding to characters just makes things more fun. 

I am only doing canon character roleplays at the moment.

I am semi-selective when it comes to RP partners.

To piggyback off of the last bit, if I feel like our roleplay is dry/lackluster, don’t take it personally if I ask to drop it. I prefer being upfront instead of ghosting. 

If you don't reply to me without notice after a week or so, I will close our DM. If you need a break/want to end RP, just tell me. I know how it is.

I roleplay over discord, exclusively.

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Formatting. 

I write in a third person, semi to literate format. I typically write three paragraphs as a minimum and expect partners to match my length. Often I write more like 3-5+ paragraphs, it just depends on my muse and what's going on in the roleplay. In order to be my RP partner, I do prefer to see an example of your writing prior to RP, as well. I am able to provide samples as well, of course.  This is simply a measure to ensure we both vibe with each other’s styles before getting into roleplay! 

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Timezones and availability.

I will not always be available as I am an adult with a significant other, work and other responsibilities. Please respect that and don't spam me for replies. If I have an event coming up I will try to keep you informed + hope you'd do the same. I live in Central Time.

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Limits.

Non-con, ageplay, p3dophilia and that other nasty stuff. I don't mind writing heavier topics, but going into graphic details with things such as Eating Disorders and Self-H@rm is too much. No other specific triggers come to my mind, but I will be sure to tell you if something makes me uncomfortable. To add, I do enjoy roleplays that touch on those elements - so long as it isn’t the soul focus, if that makes sense. 

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Types of roleplay.

Admittedly my primary interest in roleplaying is shipping. I tend to get bored with platonic roleplays - with some exceptions when I’m  in specific moods. An example being heartfelt RPs with characters like Max/Goofy because they’re dynamic makes me feel warm and fuzzy. I am a sucker for a good hurt/comfort! Some genres I enjoy are angst, thriller and AUs of all kinds. I do not roleplay unless there is a plot, either. I do love brainstorming them together+hearing your ideas, and I also have some ideas already. I will add I tend to go hardcore into angst at times so if that isn't for you, I may not be the best fit for roleplaying. That being said, a good fluff or other genre can be just as fun. It really depends. I do ERP as well, but only if there's a plot involved. I can't get invested otherwise. DM me for more ERP specifics (though I will warn you right now, I only write sub/bottom).

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Muses.

Bradley Uppercrust, III. 

Max Goof.

Panchito Pistoles.

I can do other characters as side characters, as well!

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Ships.

- Maxley (I mainly do Bradley for this one)

- Tankley

- Panjosé 

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Extra.

If you've made it this far, congratulations. Feel free to message me with any other questions I haven't answered in post, and of course - if you're looking to roleplay. Cheers!