#so I've just stopped giving a shit trying to repair it now

[wayfayrr]

Pssp if you use music as a way to cope it can help I listen to full noisecore dubstep to just burn out some of those harder emotions but I wish you luck dealing with broken relationships can be rough

I've actually been listening to a ton of dubstep recently, I like how much it drowns out any other thoughts whenever you listen to it loud enough <3

I'm starting to get a better handle on it now thankfully, just lying and keeping a more 'genuine' smile on my face around her till I can get away again

[bkd-b3ans]

Boothill keeps messing up his revolver from all the slapping and you have to fix it

Heya, love For Boothill too big, so I've started writing something for the first time. Sorry for any mistakes, literally never wrote a fanfic before.

Ship: Boothill x mechanic reader (gn, but possible masc leaning)

Warnings: none, it's just a bit of banter

Chapter(s?) : just one part of a long thing I want to do. I will accompany this with art too of my oc later down the line.

"Boothill, can you stay still for one moment?" You said, clear annoyance in your voice as you almost dropped the small pins you had to hold with a pair of tweezers inside the cowboys disassembled arm.

You were trying to fix his revolver, which so happened to get jammed again due to his recklessness in fighting. You've told him so many times to stop slapping it into place so aggressively, that the springs and pins inside it are going to get worn out faster or shifted out of their place, but those pleas always fell onto deaf ears.

"M'bad sugar, it just gets sooo boring stayn' still like this for so fudging long." He said, rolling his eyes and slumping back down in his chair, tapping the fingers of his other hand onto the arm rest.

He always had these tics of his when getting fixed, which, to a degree, you could understand. After all, sometimes his repairs could take a few minutes or entire days where he'd have to do nothing but stay in your workshop, connected to your many machines in order to ensure that everything is running optimally. By now, he came so often that you could confidently just run your business on his funds alone.

"It won't take that long this time-" you adjusted the magnifying glasses on your nose, tapping the edge to zoom in a bit more, your steady hand placing the tiny pin inside it's hole "Luckily it was just a few pins that got out of their place. Other than that, your body seems to function pretty well."

He heard that little sigh of relief you sometimes did when checking his systems. It was a bitch and a half to fix them, and you were about the only mechanic not affiliated with the IPC that he could trust not to install some weird virus into his body.

" Well, what can I say, lady luck still riddin' shotgun with me I reckon. Can't say the same 'bout those jolly good fellows from the IPC." he let out a prideful scoff tipping his hat "I reckon their faces look better now with a few bullets between their teeth.

You shook your head, already used to his rants about the IPC and his hunt for revenge. Whilst you could appreciate his enthusiasm, you had yet to pry into the issue as to why. Despite all the days and hours spent with him, working on his body and listening to his rants, you had yet to be told the reason for all of this.

"As long as it is their face and not yours. After all, you're my number one customer~" you have him a wink, sticking your tongue at him playfully. Boothill nearly laughed, trying to say something smart back, but he was cut short by you suddenly slapping the revolver back in it's place, giving it a few spins before closing the paneling around it

"All seems to work well now Boots. Again, please stop slapping this thing into place like it owes you money. Your body may be made out of quality stuff, but it's not immune to your own idiocy."

"Hah, as if, that thing works better with a little tough love"

He didn't even have to look at you to feel the knives you were starring at him from behind your glasses.

"Besides, if I were to be careful, what excuses would I have to come pay ye a visit from time to time? Eh, sugar?"

You hated that shit eating smirk he had on his face sometimes. You just knew he enjoyed teasing and annoying you. It was part of your friendship at this point.

"One day your recklessness will be your death"

Standing up, you went to disconnect him from the machines he was hooked up, pulling out the cables from his back one by one.

"Aww, do I sense some worry in yer tone, darling? I'm flattered a-"

He couldn't finish his sentence as you tugged on his hat, pulling it over his face. Boothill couldn't help but laugh.

"Fine fine, I'll stop. Fudge me you can be tough to love sometimes. How much do I owe ya?" he asked, finally being able to stand up and adjust his hat.

"40k, do you want to put this on your tab again or just pay upfront"

"Just put it on my tab darling, I'll pay it once I'm back from this assignment"

You sighed. He always picked that option, but he always paid eventually, so you weren't too worried. What worried you us where the money came from sometimes. But what can you do, money is money after all.

"Fine, I'll see you next time Boots. And hey, bring me something nice from your travels, I might give you a discount too"

"What do I look like? A magpie?" he scoffed.

"You look more like a shark, but sure. Anyway, counting on you, Boots"

You gave him a friendly pat on the back, the cowboy tipping his hat to you before leaving, making you wonder sometimes in what part of the galaxy he's going to end up to next time every time he left your workshop.

[coloursparks]

Not Like That

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC Summary: Things change over the summer holiday with Sebastian, and then things get messy. Might as well spend the first few weeks of your last year fighting about it. WC: 6.1k Notes: Oh god, the first fic I've written in like six years and I am sure it's shit. I am sorry if characterization is off. It takes me a minute?? I also have zero clue if I want this to be canon compliant or not so there's absolutely no mention of Anne or what happened! Also, no beta so please don't be too harsh. I just wanted to have fun writing a thing and hopefully someone else enjoys it!

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“How else am I supposed to look?” you asked Imelda. “Do you hear yourself talk?”

“Do you?” she shot back, giving you the same exasperated look you were giving her. “If you don’t say something about it soon, you’re going to lose your chance. I’m not sure I can hold them at bay much longer.”

“I don’t know what chance you think I should have,” you said, though you didn’t sound as confident about it. The fact of the matter was you knew exactly what Imelda was talking about, and she was right. You hated that she was right.

“Sallow’s come back a foot taller and just bigger and you aren’t the only one who’s noticed,” she pointed out. “Violet’s determined to slip him a love potion. I’ve been trying to tell her he’s already involved, but considering I can’t say who, it hasn’t worked all too well.”

“I hate her,” you muttered, feeling a prick of jealousy. 

“You hate anyone who so much as bats an eyelash at him,” Imelda pointed out. “You can save yourself the trouble but just telling him that you fancy him and snog in the upstairs of the Three Broomsticks already.” 

“Imelda!” 

“Or snog him somewhere else. I happen to quite like the upstairs of the Three Broomsticks for that sort of thing, but to each their own,” she said simply, shrugging. She was unashamed, and part of you envied her for it. 

“It’s not that simple,” you sighed, giving her a pleading look.

“And why not?”

“Because…because…” you stammered, trying to find a reason that would satisfy your friend. When none came to mind as she stared at you expectantly, you groaned and rested your head on your crossed arms on the table in front of you. “He’s going to have a right laugh at me, Imelda.”

“No, he will not,” she said, poking you in the shoulder. You looked up at her, already defeated and resigned to the fact that despite your years-long pining for Sebastian Sallow, nothing would ever come at it.

“What makes you so sure?” you asked.

“Because Sallow’s a lot of things, but he’s not that cruel. Besides, for all you know, he could be whining to Ominus about how much he fancies you but thinks he has no chance,” she pointed out. “Now, come on. We’ll be late, and Hecat swore to put me in detention if I was late again.”  The two of you stood from the table in the library where you had been sitting, gathering up your belongings before heading to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. 

“Why are you so late all the time anyway?” you asked curiously as you held open the door into Central Hall for her. 

“Flying,” she answered simply. 

Of course. It was Imelda - you should have known. 

___

“Mr. Sallow, why must you always duel in my classroom?” 

Professor Hecat was only just leaving her office as you and Imelda entered and seemed too busy repairing the collateral damage from Sebastian’s duel with Leander Prewett to notice the two of you sneaking to nearby seats. The room was righting itself as Sebastian raised his hands up to the professor, taking a few steps away from the dueling platform he had been standing on.

“Because, Professor, there isn’t another place where dueling is sanctioned,” he pointed out, his voice conveying innocence he didn’t possess. You rolled your eyes because you knew full well that dueling being sanctioned didn’t stop him from doing it. Crossed Wands meetings and plenty of adventures proved otherwise, and the look Hecat was giving him also showed she knew otherwise.

“Let’s see if we can make it through the term without you destroying my classroom, Mr. Sallow.”

“I’m sorry, Professor,” he said, raising his wand and muttering a hasty spell to repair the nearby broken desk. It righted itself in one piece, still smoking slightly. “It won’t happen again.” He shot her a smile before heading to a nearby seat. “Imelda, what are you doing here? I didn’t realize Quidditch players needed N.E.W.T.S. Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he chuckled as he leaned forward to look at her.

“I take no chances,” Imelda replied cooly. “You never know what an opponent will do to get ahead, and knowing how to unjinx a broom can’t hurt.”

“If you say so,” he said, still smiling as he shook his head. “And my favorite Hufflepuff returns. I was starting to wonder if you even still went here,” he joked, elbowing you gently in the arm. 

“No, still here,” you chuckled awkwardly, trying to rub the tingling feeling out of your arm where he had touched you. It was ridiculous, letting a simple touch get to you, but everything was ridiculous when he was involved. 

Before either of you could say anything else, Professor Hecat was calling for the class to focus on her so she could teach. You tried your best to pay attention, but the fact you were next to Sebastian was nothing short of distracting. Words came out of the professor’s mouth and you tried to hold onto them, only for them to slip through your fingers because Sebastian was making that focused face he always made when he was trying to learn something, brow furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking out as he scribbled on parchment.

It was the first time you had really gotten to see him up close. Sebastian had certainly grown over the summer holiday – he was broader and if there were any doubts, the way his sleeves were pulled taut over his arms put them to rest. He was a head taller than last year, and you cursed him mentally for somehow having even more freckles. He had left sixth year looking more like a boy and returned for seventh year looking like a man, and you certainly hadn’t been the only one who noticed. 

Part of the reason why Sebastian had joked about not knowing if you had come back to Hogwarts was that you hadn’t been able to get his attention before now. You had seen him on the Hogwarts Express, but he and Ominis had been having such an intense-seeming conversation that you hadn’t wanted to interrupt. You had tried to end up in the same carriage on the way up to the school, but before you could tell him that you had room in your carriage, Violet McDowell was pulling him into hers with Sebastian tugging Ominis in too.

Dejected and a little annoyed, you had ridden up to the school in huffy silence with Imelda and Poppy. 

Outside of trying to wave at Sebastian from the Hufflepuff table after the sorting, you hadn’t bothered to get his attention. He was clearly enjoying the attention of the girls that somehow seemed to find every free space around him. You could have sworn that you saw Imelda notice the upset look on your face, but you decided to jab at your roast potatoes instead of looking at the Slytherin table any longer. 

It was the bell to signal the end of class that shook you from your stupor. You had zoned out watching Sebastian, who blissfully hadn’t noticed the attention. Unfortunately for you, Imelda certainly had. She gave you a look that very clearly said that her thoughts from your earlier conversation hadn’t changed. Luckily, before she could say anything about it, Sebastian was ducking in the way.

“Imelda, Quidditch,” he said quickly, noticing he needed to head her off talking about something, even if he didn’t know what it was.

“What about it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she packed her belongings.

“Tryouts,” Sebastian said simply. “Want to know when they’re happening. Decided to finally try out.” When Imelda gave eyed him suspiciously, like she thought she was walking into a trap of some kind, he sighed and added, “I was told to do something more productive and sanctioned with my time.”

“You’re serious?” Imelda asked. “What position?”

“Beater. You need those, right?”

“We do,” she agreed. She glanced over at you, sighed, and then looked back to Sebastian. “I’m going down to the pitch before Potions if you want to practice before tryouts and I can give you tips to improve.” 

You wanted to laugh. As much as Imelda probably wanted you and Sebastian alone together so you could confess the feelings you still wouldn’t admit to, her love of Quidditch won out. Secretly, you were thankful for it.

“Do you want to join us?” Sebastian asked hopefully, looking over at you. “Get a leg up on your Slytherin competition.”

“Hufflepuff still wouldn’t stand a chance,” Imelda pointed out, and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I’ve got Divination,” you told him, choosing to ignore Imelda’s teasing. 

“You’re still taking that?” 

You shrugged in response. “I like Professor Onai. Plus, someone has to keep Natty company,” you explained. “You two don’t get bloodied up too bad without me.”

“Don’t worry, if Sallow’s any good, his pretty face will stay pretty,” Imelda laughed, and you knew that she was trying to get a rise out of you. Sebastian, thankfully, seemed a bit preoccupied with the comment himself to notice the color rising in your cheeks. You excused yourself with the excuse of not wanting to be late to class before things could get any more awkward.

____

In the weeks after, you had seen more of Sebastian, and then suddenly a lot less. Unsurprisingly, he ended up making the Quidditch team. With the beginning of the Quidditch season coming up, Imelda had them practicing at all hours, meaning that her time to try and press the issue of your feelings for Sebastian was blissfully cut short. 

Luckily, you could at least still spend time with other friends who either didn’t notice what Imelda had or at least had the grace not to press you about it. Without Sebastian around, you seemed to find Ominis on his own more, and the nice part about spending time with him was that he didn’t seem to give a damn about your romantic life nor did he want to divulge on his own the way Poppy and Adelaide had been as of late. You were happy for your friends, but the constant questions about your own because the two Hufflepuffs weren’t as well-versed in your emotions as Imelda was getting to be a little much.

“What do you think you’ll do once you graduate?” 

Ominis had been talking about what his own plans were as the two of you walked toward Hogsmeade. The two of you were friends, sure, but more because you had a mutual friend than because you spent any significant time together before now. You were catching up on the more interesting things now that the two of you were spending time together without Sebastian. 

“When we did career conversations with our Heads of House, I thought I wanted to work for the Ministry but something about it doesn’t feel right anymore,” you told him, stepping out of the way of a witch carrying a stack of books with a cauldron perched precariously on top. “Bit mad to expect a bunch of children to decide what to do with their lives just like that, you know?”

“You sound like Sebastian,” he pointed out, chuckling slightly. “Says he might not bother with curse-breaking at all now. Might want to play Quidditch professionally instead.”

“He hasn’t played in a single game,” you laughed. “The season doesn’t start for another week and he wants to be a professional now?”

“Apparently so.”

“I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Well,” Ominis started, “you can ask him all about it later. He’s meeting us here after practice–if Imelda’s left enough of the team.” 

“I didn’t know he was coming,” you said casually, trying to ignore the excitement from the news and the slight feeling of dread. As much as you liked Imelda, you hoped she wouldn’t be joining because you weren’t ready for another round of heavy-handed comments about you and Sebastian. 

“The second I said you and I were going to Hogsmeade, he said he was joining,” he explained, shrugging. “You haven’t seen much of him lately, have you?”

“Outside of classes? No,” you sighed. “He seems too busy for me these days.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh,” you said, biting your lip. 

You didn’t want to get into it with Ominis. He didn’t need to know how much it bugged you to see Sebastian at meal times, talking to the rest of the team or those girls that somehow always seemed to hang around him. He didn’t need to know how disappointed you were every time you couldn’t even get Sebastian’s attention to say hello, and when you did, half the time he was rushing off somewhere. You felt thoroughly left behind and the fact you cared so much about him made it hurt all that much more. The less Ominis knew about all of that, the better. 

“He’s just been busy with Quidditch,” you replied finally, in too airy of a voice to be entirely convincing. 

Thankfully, he let the topic of your mutual friend slide as you got into the village. You had needed to restock for Potions, and Ominis seemed uncharacteristically cheery in Honeydukes 

and you didn’t have the heart to suggest going elsewhere when he wanted to explore. Leaving close to an hour later with your coin purses lighter but pockets heavier, you managed to get into and out of Gladrag’s with only the new scarf you had intended to buy before heading to the Three Broomsticks. 

“There you two are!” Sebastian was sitting at a table in the corner, waving at the two of you. Your heart skipped at the look of the smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but smile back and wave to show that you spotted him. 

“Would you mind grabbing the Butterbeers?” Ominis asked, turning towards the sound of Sebastian’s voice. 

“Consider it done,” you told him, giving him a pat on the arm before heading to the bar. “Sirona! Can I get two Butterbeers?” She waved to show that she heard you, even as she was dealing with something else behind the bar. You looked around to see if there was other students in the pub, and you spotted a few younger Hufflepuffs and, a few tables over, Garreth Weasley and Everett Clopton discussing something on a piece of parchment in front of them. That was…dangerous. 

The only other table of interest was the one you were heading to, and as you looked over at it, you saw Sebastian looking at you, still smiling. You smiled back, feeling a little silly at how easy it was for him to make you feel the way he did.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Sirona commented as she slid two full glasses in front of you. You whipped around, giving her a confused look.

“What do you mean?” 

“Sebastian’s been watching that door like his life depended on it,” she said. “Waiting for you.”

“Well, Ominis doesn’t come to the village often,” you pointed out, taking your drinks. “He was probably just worried about him and won’t admit it. Boys, you know.” 

“Perhaps,” Sirona said, but the look on her face showed that she didn’t believe what you were saying. You pushed what you owed for the drinks toward her, and picked up the Butterbeer. She left it there, and you headed over to your friends. You placed Ominis’ drink in front of him before settling in the free seat.

“If we don’t win, I’m quitting,” Sebastian was telling Ominis.

“Already?” you asked, giving Sebastian an amused look.

“You have no idea what Imelda is like Captain,” he responded, shaking his head. “She woke us up before dawn this morning.”

“I feel like you knew what you were signing up for,” you laughed. “It’s not like it’s a surprise that Imelda is…intense.”

“But add a little power over people,” he sighed, “and you’ll be playing Quidditch every moment you’re not in class or asleep.”

“Just the way she likes it,” you pointed out, taking a sip of your drink. “I thought you wanted to play professionally?”

“Yeah but…” he trailed off. “When did I tell you that?”

“I told her before,” Ominis piped in. “She talks to you even less than I do. We compare notes,” he added dryly. You laughed at the comment. It was perfectly true. Sebastian and you would talk maybe for a minute before class or after, but Ominis at least saw him in the Slytherin Common Room. The two of you talked about other things, but the conversation would always turn to Sebastian at one point or another. 

Sebastian frowned, but before he could say anything else about it, Ominis was talking about something else. For a while, Sebastian was uncharacteristically quiet as you two chatted about nothing in particular and drank your Butterbeers. Slowly, he became more himself, and you had to admit, it was nice to have what felt like the “old days” back again. It felt like you were back in the Undercroft, and not fighting for Sebastian’s attention. 

Once all three glasses were empty, you stood up and scooped them into your arms. “I’ll go get us more,” you declared, smiling brightly. You didn’t want things to end just yet, so another round of drinks made the most sense. You had barely been up at the bar for a minute when your seat was taken by Violet McDowell. She had pulled the chair closer to Sebastian and was leaning so near him she might as well be in his lap, and Ominis was looking almost as annoyed as you were. Sirona said nothing about the look on your face other than a glance over to your table and a head shake. 

Unable to carry all three drinks, you instead charmed the filled glasses to float in front of you as you headed back to the table. You let the three of them fall with more force than you meant to, causing loud thuds and Butterbeer to slop out over the rims and onto the table. Ominis, who couldn’t know that he should move back the way Sebastian had, got the brunt of the spill.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered, more to him than the other two. “Just got away from me.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the castle with me?” Violet was simpering, ignoring what had just happened. “You said you’d help me with my Charms work, Bas.” You almost snorted at the nickname but managed to cover it up with a cough.

“I’ll meet you back in the common room later,” Sebastian told her, “go ahead without me.” Violet pouted, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek and look away from her. She was certainly shameless. 

“Fine! But you promised,” Violet huffed before getting up and heading out, ignoring the other two people at the table completely. Ominis was trying to clean up the spilled Butterbeer so he either didn’t notice or care about Violet’s departure. 

“I’m going to wash up,” Ominis said, standing up and shaking his hands. 

“I’m really sorry, Ominis,” you sighed, and he just shook his head.

“Accidents happen.” He disappeared upstairs, leaving you and Sebastian alone for the first time since before the summer holiday. You pulled your chair back to where it had been before Violet showed up and sat down.

Things were quiet between the two of you for a long moment. Both of you seemed more interested in your drinks than speaking, and neither one of you looked at the other. It was Sebastian who finally broke the silence.

“So…you’ve been spending a lot of time with Ominis lately,” he mentioned casually. You shrugged, looking over at him.

“I guess,” you agreed. “You and Imelda have been busy with Quidditch, so it’s just been the two of us.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “Is that the only reason?” he asked in the same casual voice, leaning forward as if he was expecting you to spill about some secret mission you and Ominis were planning. It was then that you realized that you hadn’t pulled the chair back all the way, and with your back facing the corner where the table was settled, Sebastian was boxing you in. If Sebastian had looked like he had grown before, close up, he looked to have doubled in size with him so closer now. He seemed almost impossibly broad now, and you felt nothing short of tiny in comparison. You looked up at him, confused, blushing slightly.

“Yes?” you said nervously. “Why would there be another reason?”

“Don’t know,” he responded, settling his arm on the table as he continued to lean towards you, resting his head against his hand. “I haven’t seen you much this year so I thought…” he started, but you cut him off.

“That’s not my fault, Sebastian,” you huffed. “You’re the one who doesn’t have any time for me anymore.”

“What are you talking about?” Sebastian looked taken aback at your words. 

“You’re joking, right?” you said, leaning in a little closer as you stared him down. “You’ve barely said two words for me outside of class. You don’t bother to even say hi at meals anymore.”

“I haven’t seen you,” he explained, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“Of course, you haven’t seen me.” You rolled your eyes, frustration that had been bubbling finally coming to the surface. “You’re at practice or going to class or busy showing off for Violet and those other girls that follow you around.”

“I’m not showing off for Violet,” he shot back. “Or any of those other girls. I’m not asking them to do that!”

“And you’re not telling them to leave you alone either,” you pointed out, temper creeping into your voice. “You sure seem to be loving the attention every time I see you. Why would you bother looking up to say hi to me when you have…”

“What are you two talking about?”

Ominis had reappeared at the table. Sebastian slid back, no longer crowding you into the corner, looking annoyed. 

“Nothing,” he told the other boy. He drained his entire Butterbeer before standing up. “I should head back to the Castle. Quidditch doesn’t leave much time for homework. I should catch up.” He didn’t bother waiting for either of you to say anything before starting to leave.

“Tell Violet we say hi, Bas.” The words were out of your mouth before you thought about it, and there was a small part of you that looked satisfied as a guilty look appeared on his face, but then replaced by a look of defiance. 

“I’ll see you back at the common room, Ominis,” he said and was gone a moment later. You rolled your eyes, sitting back in your chair. 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing,” you sighed. You looked at your drink, not really wanting it anymore. “Can we go back to school? I…uh, I think we’re getting close to curfew.”

“Right,” Ominis agreed, nodding. “Floo powder is faster.”

“Works for me,” you sighed, letting him lead the way over to the fire. 

_____

The first Quidditch match of the season had the entire castle beside itself. You couldn’t share in the enthusiasm-–even fellow Hufflepuffs were excited to see Ravenclaw vs Slytherin—because it meant having to see Sebastian out on the field. Even in classes over the last week, you determinedly avoided so much as looking at him. Imelda, blissfully, was too worked up about the game to notice.

In the end, you decided to go to support her. 

It hadn’t been too bad. Most of the other Hufflepuffs you were sitting with were cheering for Ravenclaw, but you and Poppy were too excited for Imelda to join in. It certainly got you two some looks from people nearby, but the excitement of seeing her score twice in a row made it easy to ignore. Despite your annoyance with him, it was still something else to see Sebastian zip by, sending bludgers toward the Ravenclaw Chasers. 

You weren’t any less glad when you two were waiting for Imelda to come out of the changing room that she was the last one out.

“Sallow went up with the rest of the team before,” she told you as you hugged her.

“I don’t care,” you huffed. “I was waiting for you.”

“Why don’t you care? Could have gotten to him before Violet McDowell did.”

“Why would you want to get Sebastian before Violet McDowell?” Poppy asked, looking between you and Imelda. You led the way back up towards the castle, your friends following behind.

“I don’t,” you responded, shaking your head. 

“What happened?” Imelda asked. “He was strange when I mentioned you before too.”

“Nothing happened,” you said. “He’d rather spend time with Violet McDowell? Fine. I don’t care.”

“Why does it matter who Sebastian spends time with?” Poppy asked. Then, she stopped. “Oh, you fancy him, don’t you?”

“Not anymore I don’t,” you huffed. “Now can we just leave it be?” Poppy, who you two hadn’t stopped for, ran to catch up with you. Imelda just laughed.

“He might be big on reading, but Sallow is as thick as they come,” she chuckled. “Good riddance, I say. You’ll do much better.”

“I always thought you and Ominis were cute together,” Poppy offered. 

“You know, he asked me if there was a reason the two of us were spending so much time alone together,” you half laughed, half scoffed. 

“You’re joking,” Imelda laughed. “When did he come to you with that idea?”

“Met us in Hogsmeade last week. He and I got into an argument and I haven’t spoken to him since,” you explained. 

“How did I miss this?” Imelda asked, and looked to Poppy. “Did you know about this?”

“No! I didn’t even know she fancied Sebastian,” she said, “no one tells me anything, apparently! All these times we’ve talked about who I fancy and…”

“I don’t fancy Sebastian,” you sighed. “At least, not anymore.”

“Are you sure?” she asked. “You two would be cute together too!”

“I don’t want to ever talk to him again,” you said shortly as the door to the castle swung open. “I also don’t want to talk about him anymore.”

“That’s right!” Imelda said brightly, “Outside of Quidditch, Sallow is nothing.” When you shot her a look, she shrugged. “He’s a good Beater, you have to admit. But outside of the pitch, won’t talk to him.”

“Am I still allowed to talk to him?” asked Poppy.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you be?” you replied. 

“Well, you aren’t and Imelda isn’t…” she trailed off, looking between the two of you. 

“I’m just doing it because it’ll annoy him,” Imelda pointed out. “Sounds like fun, right?” You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up.

“Do whatever the two of you wish, but I am not getting involved. I’m going to the library,” you announced. “I have work to do that I ignored to come watch the game.” 

“No fun!” Imelda called.

“What? It’s not like I can join the party anyway.” 

“I’d sneak you in,” she offered. “What about you, Poppy?” 

“No, I really should go check on…” she trailed off, pointing in the direction of the Beasts classroom. 

“No fun, either of you.”

You laughed, waved your goodbyes and made your way upstairs. You were barely a few steps towards the library when a voice made you jump.

“You fancied Sebastian?” 

You spun around to see Ominis nearby. Of course, he’d be in the castle. He probably wouldn’t have even gone down to the game, but leave it to him to be right there at exactly the wrong time. 

“I…” you started, sighing heavily. 

“That was why the two of you argued at The Three Broomsticks?” he guessed. 

“No!” you exclaimed. “Not really, no. I mean…”

“You were annoyed about Violet McDowell and Sebastian leaving to go with her,” Ominous stated.

“How were you not?” you shot back, panicking slightly. He was right, of course, but something about Ominis knowing felt dangerous. You could trust Imelda not to say anything to Sebastian no matter how much she threatened to, but you couldn’t say the same of Ominis. 

“Why didn’t you just tell him how you felt instead of arguing?”

“It’s not that easy, Ominis,” you sighed. “I really don’t want to talk about this. Not with you, no offense. But not anyone else either. Can you just…please don’t say anything about it.”

Ominis shrugged, and you knew that was the closest to a commitment that you’d get. “Does that mean you spend time with me to see him?” he asked quietly.

“No,” you replied quickly. “Merlin’s beard, Ominis. I’m not desperate for his attention like Violet is. We’ve been friends for years.”

“You’ve been friends with Sebastian, and I’ve been friends with Sebastian,” Ominis countered. “I didn’t think we were friends without him until recently.”

“Well, we are,” you stated. “At least I thought we were.”

“So did I,” he said.

“Then there, we’re friends, Ominis. Regardless of whether or not Sebastian is around,” you told him. 

“Isn’t this the type of thing friends talk about?” 

“I don’t know! Not always. It’s not like you go around telling me who you fancy,” you pointed out. He chuckled.

“I suppose not,” he agreed, nodding. 

“Now, can we please never speak about this again?” you pleaded. “I get enough from Imelda and Poppy just found out and now I know I’m never going to hear the end of it. I just want one friend who doesn’t care about my love life.”

“I promise, we won’t speak of your love life.”

“Thank you, Ominis. I really appreciate it,” you told him, breathing a sigh of relief. 

When the two of you parted ways a little while later, you certainly felt better about the fact that Ominis knew. You still couldn’t say for certain if he’d tell Sebastian or not. Their friendship was much longer than yours, but you at least hoped he’d take your desire to leave it alone into consideration. 

The rest of the night was dedicated to you trying to forget about the last few hours and actually trying to get your homework done. The number of people in the common room was keeping you more on task for once. If you looked busy enough, everyone would leave you alone, and you didn’t have to speak to anyone. A few people stopped to say hi, but the fact you weren’t willing to more than glance up to greet them kept you in a mostly solitary corner. 

Just when the common room was starting to clear out, and you were just about finished with your Charms work, when Poppy came through the entrance. You looked up when she called your name, holding your quill over the parchment.

“There you are!” Poppy sighed, pointing towards the door. “Sebastian’s waiting out there for you.”

“Sebastian is waiting for me,” you repeated, letting the ink drip onto your essay. 

“He is,” she confirmed. “He tried to follow me in. I had to promise to come get you.”

“I really don’t want to talk to him right now, Poppy,” you half-whined. You had already had enough uncomfortable conversations about your feelings for one day, and something told you Sebastian wasn’t there to rehash the Quidditch match. Just when you had just about convinced yourself that Ominis was going to keep your conversation between you, Sebastian was attempting to break into the Hufflepuff Common Room.

“He really wants to talk to you,” she said, shifting on her feet. 

“Fine,” you sighed, knowing that Poppy wasn’t going to tell him to go away. “He made you promise to get me to come out, didn’t he?” Poppy nodded, and you rolled your eyes, dropping his quill down. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“I’m sorry,” Poppy said quietly, and you offered her a tired smile. 

“It’s not your fault,” you assured her. “I’m annoyed with him, not you. Can you take my stuff upstairs? Just leave it on my bed. Please?”

“Sure,” she said, looking relieved that you weren’t upset with her. 

“Thanks, you’re the best,” you told her. You took a deep breath before heading for the door. You tried to mentally prepare for what was about to happen. Part of you wondered why Sebastian wanted to talk to you. Maybe make it perfectly clear that the only person he had feelings for was Violet or something.

When you stepped out into the hallway, it was to the sight of Sebastian pacing back and forth. He paused when you closed the door behind you. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, running his hand through his hair before sighing heavily.

“Sebastian, what–” you started, crossing your arms.

“I don’t fancy Violet McDowell,” he blurted out. 

“What?” 

“I don’t fancy her. That’s what you thought, isn’t it?”

“I can’t believe that Ominis told you,” you sighed, rubbing your face. The squirming you felt in the pit of your stomach was back. 

“You talked to Ominis about this?” Sebastian asked, giving you a surprised look.

“Didn’t you?” you responded, staring back at him. 

“No,” he said slowly. “He wasn’t in the common room when we got back from the match. I thought he was with you until he came back.”

“Then Imelda told you I fancy you,” you guessed. There was no other way he could have found out.

“Imelda knew…what am I talking about, of course, you talk to Imelda about this kind of thing,” Sebastian chuckled, running his hand through his hair again. “No, Imelda didn’t tell me either.”

“Then who told you?” you asked, the squirming getting worse. Sebastian looked at you, a satisfied look and a crooked smile on his face.

“You did,” he replied. “Just now.” 

“What?”

“You just said you fancied me,” Sebastian said, amusement written all over his face. “I wanted to be the one to say it first, but you couldn’t let me.” 

“I…what?” you muttered, voice quiet. The words were hitting your ears, but they weren’t making sense to your brain. You stared at him for a long moment, mouth still slightly open as he still had the same look on his face as he watched you process what he had a few moments before.

“You don’t fancy Violet,” you said slowly.

“I don’t,” Sebastian confirmed, chuckling. “I fancy you and you fancy me.”

“You do?”

“Course I do,” he replied, faltering for a moment before pulling you into a hug. The last time the two of you had hugged was to say goodbye at the end of last year, and you hadn’t been much shorter than he was. Now, though, he could easily tuck you under his chin. You managed to uncross your arms and wrap them around him, and he pulled you in closer. As small as he had made you feel at The Three Broomsticks, you were even smaller actually in his arms and you had to admit, it felt kind of nice.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian told you. “About the whole…” he trailed off, sighing. “Fight? That was a fight, I think.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you chuckled, squeezing him before leaning back to look at him properly. “It was about something that didn’t actually happen.” You smiled up at him to show it was all water under the bridge and he smiled back, wider than ever. It wasn’t totally clear which of you made the first move, but then you were kissing and the feeling in your stomach was replaced with the butterflies that you’d felt for the last two years.

When the two of you broke apart, neither of you seemed particularly interested in letting go of each other. The thing that forced the two of you apart was the approaching footsteps of another Hufflepuff trying to get into the common room. Deciding you two needed somewhere more private, you took his hand and led him down the hallway.

“Where are we going?” Sebastian asked, squeezing your hand. However, he made no effort to let go of it, and instead just laced your fingers together. 

“Undercroft,” you informed. 

“Great idea,” he said. “Maybe we can talk about the match later.”

“If we have time,” you told him, rolling your eyes. “I think we’ll be a little busy. We have a month or two to catch up on, don’t you think?” He laughed, tugging you closer, and pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you walked. 

“Definitely,” he agreed. The two of you were all smiles as you walked down the halls, and you were just glad the two of you were on the same page again. It was even better that the page you were on was one where you were the two of you were planning on spending significantly more alone time together from now on.

[cemeteryspider]

It's Called: Freefall

Hazbin Lucifer x Archangel! Reader

Summary: You freefall...

Trigger Warning: Isolation, rejection, and suicidal themes (listen to the song this is based off of)

Word Count: 1120

When you called your old friend Lucifer, you didn't expect to meet him in a quiet human coffee house with a few humans going in and out. Your heart pounded in your chest as you as across from him. Innocently he pushed a latte towards you with a weak smile.

You reciprocate the gesture with an eager smile, the warmth of the coffee cup seeping through your fingers. As the bitter liquid danced on your taste buds, he seized the moment to pose the first question.

"Why did you ask me here?" After many years, hearing his voice was music to your ears.

"Not sure, maybe I want you to pull me down to Hell with you"

His eyes narrowed, a subtle frown forming on his lips as your words hung in the air. Desperate to diffuse the tension, you forced a laugh, but the weight of his gaze lingered.

"Maybe you would make it easy and offer me cigarettes, dominos, or rum" You teased.

"Not only sundowns, Sundays, Christmas for me" Though a joke no laughter came from him.

"I just needed an old friend. I could never hope to keep the new seraphim as friends. I tried to give them what I thought that they wanted, never could they be such a good friend as you've been"

"Come on, Y/n, don't get me venting on friends that resent you. All I've ever been is a noose to hang onto, reckless I fell into Hell where I hang with nothing and no one"

Your hand found him from across the table, "I could follow you..."

"Even the devil needs time alone sometimes" In a blink he was gone with a puff of smoke.

~~~

When you returned to Heaven you allowed yourself to sink the floor of your bedroom. Allowing tears to flow from your eyes down your cheeks.

Your "friends" never listened to your ideas, and shot them down at every chance they had. Adam had shunned you from the court after his private meeting with Sera about your sympathies with the devil.

Angel's avoided you and human souls steered clear of your wake.

The weight of rejection and isolation pressed on your shoulders, tempting you to abandon the celestial realm that had turned its back on you. The thought of leaving it all behind gained momentum within your conflicted heart.

You could let it all go.

You could let it all go.

It's called freefall.

You started writing to Lucifer about your plans.

It's called freefall

~~~

Days turned into a slow, agonizing wait before a black envelope, delivered with an impatient huff from Sera, found its way into your hands.

Still, the red seal made you giddy with excitement. However, after opening the letter you soon understood that you shouldn't have opened it.

Dearest, Y/n

Stop. Do not talk like that. You shouldn't fall. I can't even be bothered with this, you better handle your shit. Keep about your wits, you know yourself and who I am. The devil isn't a friend to anyone, Y/n.

~Lucifer

Hours turned into agonizing days as you sat amidst the remnants of your torn bedroom, the echo of your screams still reverberating in your ears. Each piece of the room held a memory, a fragment of the friendship that now seemed shattered beyond repair. You scoured your conversations with Lucifer, trying to find the roots of this passive-aggressive letter.

Lucifer was your best friend, and has been for centuries, and never in your life had you imagined him practically disowning you after letting him into your innermost thoughts.

You threw the letter into the burning fireplace in your room stomped your way to Sera, and demanded to be sent to Hell.

Without so much as a trial, which even Lucifer and the other Deadly Sins were allowed, she cursed you and sent you down.

It's called freefall.

It's called freefall.

~~~

As you plummeted, the familiar celestial lights ethereally faded from your view, replaced by a menacing red glow. The once weightless fall morphed into a descent fraught with a hellish heat that seemed to seep into your very bones. The stench of sulfur filled your nose, assaulting your senses with the undeniable reality of your new existence.

You allowed your eyes to close as you imagined your new life. You imagined Lucifer and all the grand ideas you would think up together. The change that you could make in Hell, and maybe eventually Heaven would see. You could see real friendship in your future.

~~~

Despite your continuous knocking at the Devil's door he never bothered to answer. You allowed yourself to curl up near the door, and rest your weary bones.

After a long time you heard the click of boots, and the tumble of a kicked stone growing closer.

A warm hand touched your shoulder, "Hey, what are you doing out this late, it's like 2 am, and nothing's open in Hell, it's a rule I made, anyway" You felt his weight shift as he sat on the stair next to you.

You peered your head above your arms to him. "So, you're still too busy saving everybody else, to save yourself. That's a story to tell"

A surprised look crossed his face when he saw yours. His eyes scanned your body for any injuries, then wrapped his arms around you.

"I told you not to do this, you could've gotten past those feelings. You didn't have to fall", Tears fell his face. He knew the shame and the isolation that came with falling. He knew the sad faces and disappointed looks better than anyone. It was something he never wanted you to experience, and never wanted you to know.

"Hey, let it all out, this is where I'm meant to be, Luci" You pulled his form into yours, and you could feel his shoulders relax in your grip.

His face found solace in the curve of your neck, tears staining your skin as he sought refuge in your embrace. The weight of his remorse hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of compassion and confusion. The tears spoke of a shared pain, a vulnerability you hadn't expected from the mighty Lucifer. As his silent sobs echoed in the infernal air, you grappled with the complexity of emotions that his apology unearthed.

"I'm sorry for what I wrote, I thought if I pushed you away, it wouldn't end up like this", Maybe if he just pushed you away, made you feel as though you could live with the pretentious angels that surrounded you. You wouldn't want to fall.

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be here" You promised him. 

[chaotic-neutral-knitter]

Let's do soup.

A lot of people have been talking about how soup is doing some symbolic lifting in this season, but I've gotten really stuck on this scene in particular. Ed doesn't know that Hornigold is his own subconscious yet, but he confronts him about a time that Hornigold killed a member of his own crew (hey Ed are you maybe feeling bad about something?) and Hornigold gives him three options for dealing with all the horrible shit he's seen, done, or been unable to stop.

The first option is just "move on, you gotta move on." Or, in other words "toughen up, who cares that you feel bad about it, just lock that shit up and get over it." Ed got this advice a lot in season one. Izzy told him "the love of a pet makes a man weak" and Calico Jack told him "what kind of pirate has a friend, we're all in various stages of fucking each other over." It seems like this is just what pirates do. Frenchie starts out this season talking about how he bottles it all up. It's a stand in for all the toxic masculinity and repression that the show enjoys unpacking - in Hornigold's mind, if feelings can't rebuild an abdominal wall, they're useless.

The second option is "blow your brains out." It's become pretty clear at this point that Ed is trying his best to get someone angry enough to kill him. In season one, Ed is told repeatedly that dying is what happens when you fail to do option one. When Izzy says, "the only retirement we get is death," that's what he means. Ed can't retire, can't stop being a pirate, can't do things differently. He has to tread water until he drowns. When Izzy says "Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard, not Edward. Edward better watch his fucking step," he is telling Ed to toughen up or die. At this point Ed, unimpressed, asks "Those are the options?" Hornigold does his little bup-bup-bup thing where he weighs them in his hands and says "Or, we could just make some soup."

Ed says "Yeah, soup. Let's do soup."

The third option is "soup." Soup can mean a lot of things - it's warm, it's nourishing, it's what you eat when you're sick. The show has been tying it to the crew of the Revenge by having them continually eat soup and talk about how great it is (Notably, in the scene above, Olu asks Yi Sao if she's really a soup seller and she says "Not exactly.")

What does "make some soup" mean for Ed? I think, above all, it's a third option in what has been an inescapable dichotomy of "be tough or die." The first person to break this dichotomy in the show is Stede, when he refers to piracy's culture of abuse and says "And my thought is, 'Why? And also, what if it weren't like that?'" before encouraging his crew to talk through their feelings. To the surprise of literally everyone, that works. The crew of The Revenge took the space that Stede gave them and built a family inside of it. They gave Ed the idea that maybe "tough it out or die" aren't the only two options, and he's still thinking about it even now.

Making soup is also work - Ed's going to have to deal with the fact that he tried to torture his crew into killing him - but it's good, useful work. It could be a metaphor for the kind of work you have to do to repair relationships with people you've hurt. The first thing Ed does in this episode is refuse the soup that Hornigold is giving him. It's poison, he doesn't want it.

So, I'm wondering if there's going to be a moment later in the season where Ed either literally makes soup or accepts it from someone else, and whether that will be Important To His Arc in some way.

Also, I'm really craving soup, so.

[livelaughlovelando]

Drag Racing In Miami (TZ11)

Warnings: Suggestive, Kissing? Idk what else

Authors note: for the longest time i've been obsessed with racing movies especially the Fast and Furious series so I had to write Trevor as a street racer like Brian O'Conner!

Today like most days I was in the shop working on a new car. A Nissan Skyline had made it's way in for slight body work repairs and some upgrades. As of current I was underneath the car changing the oil as it was low. "Hey how's it going man," I hear Ry say to someone entering the garage. "Ah not to bad, how's it going?" The person asks with a slight recognisable voice. "Pretty good, body works done now we're just doing some maintenance and service and it will be good to go," Ry answers. I hear their footsteps get closer to me indicating i'm working on the customers car. "Well, well, well if it isn't Y/N working on my car," Sliding out from under his car I am met with Trevor Zegras standing over me looking directly in my eyes. His hair wavy under his cap as he wears a white shirt and long shorts. It had been months since I heard or saw from him I can't help but slightly check him out.

"Zegras," I sigh. "You trying to sabotage me for our next race," He chuckles in a low voice. "Pfft as if Ry would let me do that," I laugh back. "I'd have her ass hanging off the roof," Ry nods. "Good," Trevor smiles, "so when you think it will be ready by?" "I've done most of the maintenance shit, just need to give it a little clean and polish and you can have it this afternoon," I say sitting up. "Sounds good i'll hang around then," He smirks at me. Rolling my eyes I lay back down and slide back under to see the oil has drained completely. Taking the container holding the left over oil I screw the cap back on and slide out from under the car. Carefully placing the container next to me I sit up. Long and behold I see Trevor sitting on a chair against the wall in front of me. Rolling my eyes at him I get up and carry the container to the table. "Just making sure your doing everything right," He laughs. "Yeah whatever," I sigh. Grabbing his car keys from the wall hooks I walk over to his car to unlock the doors. Opening the drivers door I lean in and find the instrument panel. After finding the leaver I hear the hood pop and I carefully get out shutting the door.

Making my way to the front of the car I lift the hood and pull down the stand to hold it up. Feeling Trevors eyes burning into my skin I know for a fact he's enjoying my outfit. A pair of short black bike shorts and a white tank top stained with dirt giving him a clear view of all my curves he adores so much. Leaning into the hood to place a funnel into the oil tank entrance I feel a pair of hands hold my hips. The persons lower body is pressed up against my ass as they lean down to get a view of what i'm seeing. "Do you know what your doing?" Trevor asks lowly in my ear. "It not hard to change a car's oil I do it all the time," I say turning my head to look at his. "I'm not talking about my car i'm talking about me, do you know what your doing to me," He says in a way that sounds almost like a whine. As if I wasn't sweating from working in the shop all day I definitely felt myself getting hotter everywhere. "I don't know what your talking about," I shrug trying to play it cool but I obviously do know what he's talking about. "Y/N," He whispers in my ear slowly bringing his lips to my neck. Shivers rush down my spin as I pour the oil into the funnel with shaky hands. "Trev stop," I say with a breathless voice. "Oh so i'm Trev now am I?" He chuckles recalling me referring to him as Zegras not that long ago. Putting the bottle down I turn myself around so i'm completely facing him. Carefully placing my arms around his neck I look into his eyes. His hands still holding my waist as he looks down at me. "You've been gone for months with no call, no nothing," I frown. "I know baby I had a job off the grid," He says apologetically. Turning my head away to not look at his face but he immediately uses his hand to softly bring my face back towards him. "I'm here now and i've missed you so much," He smiles. Watching his face soften a smile grows on my face. "How much?" I ask. "So fucking much," "Yeah?" I ask with a large smile. "Mhmm hmm," He nods. "I missed you too," I reply. As if his smile couldn't get any wider he leans down hovering his lips over mine. Using my arms to pull him further down I lean back and press my lips on his. Closing our eyes we deepen the kiss to show how much we truely missed each other. "Eh mhmm," I hear someone cough next to us. Pulling away I look over to see Ry cross armed looking directly at us. "Stop making out with the customers and finish his car," Ry chuckles. "Yeah finish my car," Trevor chuckles letting go of me and stepping back. Rolling my eyes playfully I give Trevor a small peck before taking the funnel of out the oil tank and placing it in the sink. Ry walks over to the cupboard to get the polishing and cleaning stuff to start finishing off the work on Trevor’s car. Checking everything under the hood is good I help Ry clean the car as Trevor hovers around us. With the music playing in the background I sing and dance around while wiping down the car. Once all the work was completed we tested everything was working right before handing the keys back over to Trevor.

“Your keys kind sir,” I say slightly bowing.

“Why thank you,” he smiles taking them from me.

Trevor stares at me for a second in deep thought before opening his mouth.

“You wanna take it for a drive?” He asks holding the key up for me to take.

“Trevor Zegras letting someone else drive his skyline?” I smirk, “unheard of,”

“I only let special people drive it,” he smiles.

A smile paints across my face as I hear his words.

“You saying I’m special?” I question.

Watching him walk closer to me he places his hand on my waist and lean down.

“So special,”

Quickly taking the keys out of his other hand I smile.

“Shall we?”

“We shall,”

Both of us walk to his car and I open the drivers door. Sliding into the seat I feel the steering wheel and admire the inside even though I’ve seen it before while working on it. Trevor notices the seat perfectly adjusted to my liking already and chuckles.

“Looks like someone was already sitting in here before,”

“Maybe,” I shrug giggling.

Starting the engine I listen to the roar which is music to my ears. Putting the car into gear I carefully drive the car out of the garage. It was already starting to get dark. Making my way to a quiet straight street I stop at the start. Looking over at Trevor for his approval he gives me a nod and I start to rip it down the straight. My smile grows as I feel the adrenaline rush through me. Trevor chuckles at my amusement and we quickly make it to the end of the strip. Not slowing down I drift round so we are facing where we started.

“You sure are something else,” he laughs.

Smiling I start the car back up and slowly drive us to a peaceful spot overlooking the beach. Parking up on the grass I look over at Trevor signalling we’re getting out. I open the door and slide out shutting it behind me. Climbing up on the bonnet of the car I sit with my knees to my chest and Trevor joins me doing the same. Placing an arm around my shoulder he brings me closer to him as I rest my head on his chest. The wind lightly blowing our hair around as we watch the tide come in.

“Never leave me without a message again,” I sigh, “I was worried sick, I thought you had a race and died without my knowledge,”

“A race without you with me, never, your my lucky charm,” he says kissing my head, “I’m sorry but I promise this is the last time I’ll be leaving you,”

“Good,”

Both of us lay back looking at the sky holding each other’s hand.

“What have you been doing while I was gone?” He asks intrigued.

“Well working on your car for starters, going to races, knocking on your door hoping you’d answer the door at some point, writing music like always and driving around searching for you,”

He sighs feeling awful for what he had done, “I’m sorry baby, you wanna stay the night at mine?”

Letting out a large yawn I nod.

“I’ll drive,” he says.

Both of us get up and I get into the passengers seat reclining it so I can sleep. He starts the car up and I shut my eyes slowly falling asleep. A hand rest on my thigh coming off and on as we slowly make our way to his place. A whisper of my name and I am shaken awake. Rubbing my eyes I see a familiar bungalow and Trevor leaning in the door. Sliding out of the car he shuts the door behind me and holds the backs of my shoulders guiding me to the front door. Unlocking it he opens the door and walk in. As he shuts the door he wraps his arms around my waist from behind resting his head on my shoulder.

“So are you hungry or should we just go straight to bed?”

“Sleep,” I chuckle.

“Alright then sleep it is,”

We walk through the lounge to his room and I take a seat on the edge of his bed. Watching him rummage through his drawers he throws a grey huffer shirt at me. Sliding my own white shirt cover in dirt over my head I expose my choice of bra. Feeling Trevor’s eyes burn into my skin as I slide of my bike shorts leaving me in just undergarments. He himself takes his shorts off leaving him in his shirt and boxers as he climbs into his bed. Following him I crawl towards him situating myself on top of him. Straddling him I see him smirk up at me with his arms behind his head.

“We’re sleeping you perv,” I chuckle.

“Yeah ok,” he smiles.

Leaning down I place a small peck on his lips before flopping down completely. Wrapping my arms around his torso I rest my head on his chest.

“Good night Trev,”

“Good night Y/N,”

Letting out a large yawn I talk, “I love you,”

I hear Trevor’s heart speed up, “what was that?” He asks trying to clarify why I said.

“I love you Trevor,” I repeat.

There’s a large pause as Trevor takes it all in.

“I love you too Y/N,” he says kissing the top of my head and wrapping hair arms around me to bring me closer.

[darkkitty1208]

if you still accept prompts...

wholesome wings au?

Sorry it took like, nearly a year lol. Anyway. Thank you for the prompt!

~

"Okay," Tony huffs out, adjusting Stephen's new mechanical wings carefully. This is the moment they've been waiting for. Tony takes in a shaky breath, turning to Stephen.

"You ready?" he asks, assuring himself repeatedly that Stephen is taking flight in a safe, secure place and within his sight in case things didn't go as well as expected.

They were in a secluded, clear field, the sky above them bright and blue. He checked the area multiple times to make sure no one is in their vicinity. He's brought some of his bots, EDITH, and made sure his suit is with him in case things go south.

The wings attached to Stephen's back has been a project he's spent the last few months trying to perfect.

When the accident happened, Stephen had been the most devastated Tony had ever seen him. His wings had been damaged horribly beyond repair, and taking flight in its state is near impossible. Tony hates seeing him that way. Since then, he had made it his mission to make sure Stephen could fly again.

It took so long to perfect, but here they are now.

It surprisingly did not take a lot of convincing for the Wakandans to lend him some vibranium for it. He thought about using nanotech instead, mainly due to its flexibility and his familiarity with it from past projects, but he wanted nothing but the best for Stephen. And if that meant one of the strongest metals in the world? Then he'd fight hell and back just to get it.

His nervous eyes meet Stephen's gentle ones, a small smile stretching the sorcerer's lips.

"Yes," he says, "Yes, I'm ready."

There was certainty in his voice. It calmed Tony's nerves.

"Alright," he says, turning to DUM-E. "Look alive, DUM-E. You're gonna stand by for fire safety." One can always trust DUM-E for fire safety. Even if the bot does a shit job at it. (He just can't bring himself to get rid of it.)

There really isn't any possible fire hazards but, well, who could blame him for being prepared? (Perhaps he just wanted to bring DUM-E along, but whatever.)

He points to another bot at a far distance, the camera attached to it turning to Tony. "You, start rolling."

He claps his hands together and takes a step back. "It's gonna take a while for you to adjust to flight again."

"I know."

"It's gonna be hard to balance it, but there isn't any wind currently so you should be good. Oh, and make sure not to put too much of your weight upon landing."

Stephen chuckles. "I know."

"And y–"

"Tony," Stephen cuts him off, and Tony gives him a look. Stephen responds with a reassuring smile and a slow recline of his head. "I've got this," he says, gently, "You've told me everything I need to know. We prepared for every possible wrong thing that could happen. Hell, it's mostly guaranteed it won't go wrong. Even if it does, I won't be in any major harm. Don't worry."

Tony nods curtly, more to himself than anything, jaw clenched. He breathes in.

"I just can't stop worrying that it'll just blow up or something." That gets a surprised laugh from Stephen. The edge of Tony's lips tilts up on its own at that.

"Which won't happen," Stephen shakes his head as if the mere idea is ridiculous. It is. "You know it won't."

"Yeah, you're right."

"How come you're more nervous than I am?"

Tony cards a hand over his hair, chuckling as he shrugs. "I just... I really want this to work, Stephen. It can't go wrong," his tone turns serious just as suddenly as his eyes stare intently into Stephen's. "It just can't. I... I want you to fly again."

Stephen smiles, hand reaching up to cup Tony's cheek, who leans into the touch immediately. "This means a lot for me, Tony. And you've spend so long for it. It's going to work," he says, "Thank you."

The edge of Tony's lip tilts up. "Yeah, 'course. For you, Stephen, I'd give the world if I could."

Stephen laughs a little bashfully. Tony expects him to call out how sappy he's being, but instead he says, "You have," and with gentle eyes, "It's you. You're my world."

And with that, Stephen steps back. Tony moves to a safe distance, enough to give Stephen space when he takes off.

"Okay," Tony says, "Take off in 3, 2..." He stares nervously, "...1."

Stephen takes flight.

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

[Rhymix] Main Story: Redrawing The Colorless World — Chapter 2: Invention

oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo oo AYE oooo oooo oooo oooo oooo ooooooooooo bischuktakeawefethouAYE (idk)

———

I remember the first time I made any sort of art.

It was...sort of bad—but at the same time, that's the charm point of it. I still have it with me after all of these years, and whenever I look back on it, I always find myself smiling. It just tells me that I've improved a lot, and also reminds me of how far I've come.

And to be honest, none of this is possible if it weren't for the fact that I kept on pushing through.

So now that the world is like this, I want to also keep pushing through for it.

That morning, I already showed up to Technicolour's place at 9 AM. He was...taken aback by how early I got there, to say the least, but it's not anything too out of the ordinary for him. It's certainly not as weird as that one time some weird madwoman decided to break into this world and try to become its new God.

We spent the entire day asking people around and researching about such a topic. It ended up being of no use; because by the end of the day, we didn't got anything noteworthy. There weren't any records of something like this ever happening before either, so that just made us even more confused.

Eventually, the next day, we traveled to Notalano. We asked the people there what happened during the long period of time their nation got their colors sucked out of it dry. They said it's a weird phenomenon that was caused by someone. We didn't get any further details than that because they're still investigating it.

Technicolour then took me to a friend of his' place. He said that his name is Stasis, and he's a pretty well-known inventor who has made a gigantic airship powered by Notalium once. He then said that airship initially was ill-fated, but after some repairs it works perfectly fine again.

The moment we stepped into Stasis' house, the guy in question stumbled out looking really messy. "Hey! Sorry about uh- all of this. Just working on something." He said, before sighing, turning his head away in shame. "It's really a hassle for such a simple device." Once I heard that come out of his mouth, I raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Stasis then took the both of us to his basement—which he just calls his workplace, and it makes sense why he'd call it that. He apparently works there most of the time. I could tell from how messy the entire area is. Blueprints were scattered everywhere and stacked onto tables, a few shelves were covered in dust, and the main table where he'd usually do his work is really all over the place too. Has he ever even tried to clean it up?

"Sorry for not cleaning up! I'm not done with this stupid little shit yet." Stasis apologized, before glaring down at the object on his table emotionlessly. It's clear whatever he's working on gave him a headache in some way. Technicolour and I gazed down to the object in question.

It's...just a simple paintbrush?

"What...what are you gonna do with a literal paintbrush?" I asked nervously, pointing towards the paintbrush in question. Stasis chuckled. "Hah, it's another one of my big brain ideas to restore color to not only Notalano, but this entire world too~" He answered, giving me a playful wink. It's cute, to say the least.

...I really need to stop getting short-term crushes on random people I just met.

"What's so special about it, though?" I asked again. By this point, my curiosity just kept building up more and more. Meanwhile, Technicolour was merely frowning at the messy state of the workplace. "It's powered by Notalium, and basically if you just wave the brush around with the intent of giving the world color, then color you'll give to it!" Stasis explained to me energetically, before walking towards a different table in the distance and picking up a different paintbrush that looked similar to the one he was working on.

"I have a finished version of it for testing! Give it a try outside." Stasis offered, and I simply took the paintbrush and nodded. The cyan colored diamond on the paintbrush's handle captivated me in a way that I can't even describe. It just...resonated with me for some reason. Probably because I really like the color cyan.

———

...Nothing.

"Huh? What do you mean, "nothing"?" Stasis asked me, a confused look on his face as he just looked at me as if I was crazy. When I went to test out Stasis' special paintbrush invention, it didn't work at all. "Oh c'mon now, Colorless. I tested it myself the other day and it worked swell." He then said again, a frown on his face as he then gazed at the paintbrush.

"...Ah."

"What's wrong?"

"Maybe you just didn't have such an intention to redraw the colorless world in your heart when you were trying it out."

Hearing Stasis' statement, I raised an eyebrow...again. "What do you mean? I clearly did. It's the reason why I wanted to try it out to begin with." I told him, crossing my arms, giving him a tired look. Stasis chuckled again at that. "Haha! No, no. The feelings just- aren't finalized yet. My wanting to restore color to Notalano is already finalized enough."

He then puts a finger on my chest, as if playfully mocking me. "Yours haven't yet." He added, a smirk on his face. My face could only turn red at that, but he did have a point. Maybe it's just...not fully realized at the time. "Just- look, listen here; I'm gonna let you bring that home with you. Once you feel like you've fully realized your wantings, then try again."

Stasis then gave me a reassuring nod. "I'm sure it'll work. Just believe me." Hearing his words, I felt a little eased. I nodded, a smile on his face as I silently accepted his advice.

———

...And here I am now...

At a coffee shop...

With that one guy I bumped into the other day.

I accidentally encountered Convergence again during a rainy day. We had to take shelter at a bus stop and then just...had a casual talk.

At one point I made him laugh and smile, which is nice, to say the least. I feel proud of myself for being able to successfully do that.

Now here the two of us are, enjoying coffee brewed by Convergence's favorite coffee shop. I'm not usually a particular fan of coffee, but he got me to try it. Pretty good, honestly. "What were you doing outside alone, anyways?" I ask him, trying my best to start up another conversation after a few minutes of silence.

Convergence looks up from his coffee, before finally answering. "I wanted to go...somewhere. But then the rain poured and then things had to get rescheduled." He says, a visible frown on his face as he sips on his coffee again. I nod in understanding—a part of me wants to ask him further on it, but then I decide against it.

"For now you can stay with me." I say, before quickly adding, "Until the rain stops, that is. Hehe." Convergence nods, a small smile on his face as he looks at me again. It's nice to have some alone time with him like this. Alongside my stress of trying to piece together the strange mystery of the world's loss of color, I also couldn't get this stupid man out of my head.

He's just that pretty, honestly.

But still...

I can't shake off this uneasy feeling.

[twst-drabbles]

Can I ask you and your following,what lines do or want to add to a fic but never could put in.This could be twst related or not.

'Of course, Everybody seems to forget I came out the coffin like the rest of you"

Oh boy time to dig into my notes! Okay okay, see whenever I can't get any prose writing done, I end up writing down a bunch of quotes and lines and other such things that I think could be cool but had to cut out cause it didn't fit anywhere. So I just have them stored away on a file until I find the opportunity to use them

To Vil, there is no such thing as a person born ugly. You are made ugly, by your own hand, by your own lack of care and recklessness.

Many of these lines I have are usually associated with the Eldritch AU, just cause I want that AU to have my best efforts.

Fire. A tall wall of blue flame, stoked up high as the trees planted around them. They enclosed you inside with the ink monster that had aided him since the start. “Of course. I feel invincible in this silent world. “See, exhaustion is a very human thing, and many creatures in my world fail to replicate it, especially when they’re singing. “For some reason, a lot of the monster’s I’ve encountered are usually tone deaf.”

Like, I have lots of them, it's kinda hilarious.

"so, for an impatient one like you, who wanted to pry into all my little secrets well before I would be willing to give them,“ you snapped the papers sharply against your palm, ”these precious treasures will forever be lost to you. “I would have, had you bothered to ask,” and yet, Azul didn’t. …Nothing more than simple paranoia. Not caution, not deliberating one’s actions, paranoia. He assumed the worst out of someone who barely arrived, however… “Y-you can hardly blame me for thinking such things when you consider just how many mysteries surround you. I had to practice caution, lest I let myself be exposed.” “What an odd way you show that caution of yours, Azul Ashengrotto. You were wary of me, that much I was certain, but you were more concerned in how you could possibly have me under you.”

The thing about me is the fact that I'm actually pretty good at writing dialogue, but I usually end up opting for little to none, cause it makes my drabbles too long. Beyond playing RPG's, I also play a fuckton of visual novels in my free time, so my writing has been influenced as such.

“Azul,” you relaxed back against the chair in the newly repaired lounge, “you started this game. You should have known better than to arouse my curiosity.” Stare into the abyss long enough and it shall stare back at you. And what are shadows to do but to hunt the light within your eyes? “Caution dictated that you would poke and prod to see what my role within all these strange happenings is. I can’t say I blame you for doing such a thing. But, you hold no respect towards me. You wanted me to be another tool, another link upon the chain you’ve built to seal away the vault of your weaknesses. And what am I to do, but to open that vault?”

Lot of them is just Eldritch Prefect honestly, though not all of them.

"Magic depends on imagination, and a lot of the time you can't imagine shit when you're panicking."

That line is said by the Janitor Prefect. Don't know the context for that one, I was just trying to get their voice right in my head. Sorta tired, sorta grumpy, but ultimately very knowledgeable on a lot of different subjects.

"'It can't be helped.' I've been told those words many, many times. 'This is just the way things are, you have to understand it. It cannot be stopped. It be like trying to stop the currents, to turn the sands into snow.' From childhood to even now, I've always been told this, but I knew what they were saying. 'Give up on your brother. On your family. You can't reverse your mistake.'"

As soon as I get around to finishing my current event, I think I'm going to be doing Valenio next. No choices to be made with this one, just a straight line of a story, but a story nonetheless.

Man I really wish I was good with art so I can make decent visual novels. Oh well.

[anaalnathrakhs]

it fucking breaks my heart i've been killing myself for months trying to repair my relationship w my parents and the three of us are just fucking deficient human beings. we're incapable of changing we're fucking incapable of it there's no going back everything was set from the moment i was born. they never should've had a child, but what the fuck could i blame on them? once the kid is here you just do your best you can't just decide it was a bad idea and get rid of it. they did their best. there's no good way to deal with a fucked up child. but holy fuck i wish i wasnt just idk born wrong. i wish life didn't suck and wasn't so hard. i wish when my mom said she'd take more time for family and relaxing she didn't go back to working until 8pm at least every day in the following month, but there's realities pushing her to. i wish when we saw each other we had things to do rather than just stare at each other awkwardly. i can't ever do anything because everything impacts my parents. and god knows i owe them to stop impacting them so much i did enough shit already. i can't enjoy a trip out with them because then we go home and it's MORE incredibly unsatisfactory socializing and forced eating lest they look at me like a monster. i can't leave because then it's WE leave not I leave. i can't just live my life after school because i have to be back to have the terrible binge-inducing dinner with them else i'm a fucking monster who makes them stay awake and worry at night. i have to make them aware of my every move because else they're gonna worry, i can't do that to them i have no valid reason to. i can't ever relax. i have no safe place anymore. there's always food in the house, we always have to go grocery shopping the same day and fill up the pantry. i can't buy anything substantial or component of a "normal" meal because then they just sit there while my mom never uses them despite knowing about them the whole time. there's been bricks of soup in the pantry for like two months she hasn't even MENTIONNED CONSIDERING THEM for the whole time. we bought, and i mean WE bought, WE took a couple canned vegetables from the shelves and we said good idea and we put them in the cart, and then she NEVER used them until i desperately broke the agreement that i was not to have control over what's for dinner and suggested we could perhaps maybe eat the food we had bought to eat, and she was like yeah sure great idea! we ate one can, and then for WEEKS afterwards we still don't touch any of the other cans. she keeps adding and adding and adding a billion things to every meal it makes me wanna rope. she keeps putting huge slabs of butter in pasta MOTHER it tastes the same except it's gross and five billion calories now can you stop doing that thanks. i've had my parents pretty much at my will for many many things all of my life, because they're completely floating in the meaningless void on what it means to be a parent, and it's just not healthy in ways i cannot possibly wholly imagine, and now we're stuck in some sort of circle that if i don't DEMAND something it's like i never said anything. but i can't DEMAND things because that is not a control a kid should have over their own parents and there's no nuance of possible things it's either they'll bend over backwards for even the most ill-advised demand or they will not budge an inch for the most structured three-parted argument doubled with the plead of my failing mental health even if it has demonstrably not worked before, and i certainly do not want to have a relationship with ANYONE where they feel forced to act a certain way because of me. and it's been so weird having developped this kind of very marked independance on like, DRIVE, while i was a neet, that now that i'm older and more legitimate to slowly leave the nest it feels incredibly weird and bad to entrap myself more closely instead.

so i keep trying to give them the elements of what consequences this or that thing has on me, and letting them evaluate themselves what they value, and so far the result has been that they don't give a shit about making me suffer, and they're completely cool with watching me act like i'm coked up in public bc i'm in pain or about to jump out of my skin in fearful anticipation of the next meal. i can handle myself all day and literally just ramble a little under my breath when we're going home at 9pm because it helps with the pain, and they're like "WHAT NOW we say something and you start sighing, what the hell did we do wrong this time??" which i guess is their genuine answer to the situation so i got what i wanted, i didn't control their reactions, but i guess it's pretty disappointing anyway.

and i can't really tell them because hey, how is that conversation gonna go? mom, dad, living with you is unbearable, all of my life you've done nothing but hurt me despite your best loving intentions, and i honestly don't think we're ever gonna fully repair that. cheers. i can't fucking do that to them. i've been the worst child to deal with my entire life i can't do that i just have to hold on until i move out anyway. it itches SO BAD to hurt them to blame them to throw every nasty thing i've ever wanted to yell at them to push them down the stairs and run away in the middle of the night. but i can't because they've done their best. genuinely. i wouldn't have handled it better if i had to parent kid-me. i don't think there's any right answer to a situation like that. i just can't wait until i can live for myself and not for walking around eggshells being the normal kid my parents never got to have now that i can force myself to. it feels like i try my best to give them respect and foster a good mutually-trusting relationship with them, and they don't give back anything different in return. and i do think part of that is that i'm WAAAAAY too in my own head about it and i have massive "nobody is allowed in the kitchen when i'm there" syndrome except my entire existence is the kitchen and anything i do besides "staying the usual unshowered neet disappointment in my room" being seen by my parents feels to me like if walking around naked in public. like how people ask out as a joke, like HA you really believe you could be more than a depressed piece of shit, but you're really nothing more than a pathetic failure barely keeping up the mask of a normal person. and that is totally my responsability to deal with except idk seems like every time i step out it turns out to be a disaster. and the coming down is even harsher, having to turn back into some featureless zombie picking and choosing what interests are undisruptive and inoffensive enough for me to tell my parents about it. i havent even managed to try to get into a sport club because the thought of my parents knowing this and that about my schedule and knowing i do sports and what sports i do and perhaps asking about it just makes my skin crawl. and i can't be spending their money, and i don't have a job, so.

they wont leave me the hell alone, and i can't refuse else i just become defined by my avoidance of them. it's rotting in my bed without any of the recharging. i don't fucking want to eat dinner with them, but else WHAT DO I DO? the kitchen is upstairs, upstairs is where they are, especially during dinner time but also they can hear i'm there if they're awake at home. and i owe them to spend that time bonding w them since we never did, and it's pretty much the only time my mom is home. i don't want to go with them to random events i don't really care about, because they're unenjoyable anyway since they're followed by MORE proximity and shit, but i kinda have to because i owe them that after i was nothing but a fucking emotional leech for my entire life, and also if i don't go to these events with them i go NOWHERE, cf the problem with my parents seeing anything about me mentionned above.

you might notice i've been saying "they" the whole time, rest assured, i mean my mom, or the united parental authority driven by my mom. i barely even have a dad anyway, i have a guy who lives in the same house and comes when my mom calls family reunion time, but spends his entire time every day following his own intellectual pursuits while floating through every actualy physical situation he's in. he barely listens. he barely reacts. he's not stupid or wholly incompetent, he functions alone pretty well, but in most situations in life he just stands to the side and goes "damn" whenever anything would require a reaction. i'm not really sure he fully realizes (or cares) that his actions impact other people. it scares me to be like him. i know how similar i am to him, and i really really hope i don't end up hurting anyone by being like that.

[beansnpeets]

Trigger warning for mentions of suicide (not me, Jon's been very depressed and I'm worried)

So the tenancy branch called Jon and told him apparently he's going about this eviction of his tenant wrong. Idk if I've mentioned that he's evicting her. She keeps breaking windows and the back door has been kicked in twice and replaced and the current back door makes it look like a fucking trap house. Someone burned the garage to the ground. One of the windows has a bullet hole in it that came from inside the house. Her ex husband shot someone inside the house (separate incident to the bullet hole in the window). You get the jist.

Anyway, so he had to hand the phone off to me because he was so wound up that he couldn't understand. All he has to do is give her a warning letter and the lady suggested we give a deadline of a week and a half. And then if she hasn't made the repairs by the end of the deadline she gets served with another eviction notice and has to be out by the end of December. But now he's all worried that she's gonna trash the place so bad that he can't rent it out again.

My guy. What did you think low income tenants were going to be like?? Like you very much signed up for this.

So then he immediately goes into "everyone thinks I'm a terrible person now" and "I'm the bad guy" because his self-esteem is so shite and yeah everyone fucking hates landlords and tenancy is there to protect tenants, not landlords.

I returned his energy because he was just yelling and not listening to me and I told him to shut the fuck up and listen and sit down for a second. He takes this as me not allowing him to have his feelings, which is not what I'm trying to do and I don't think that's what I'm doing, correct me if I'm wrong, please.

Like I was just trying to bring him back to earth and get him to listen to how simple this whole thing is and that we will deal with things as they happen because we have no control over a lot of this shit now so we are just going to have to get through it. We have the tools to do this, it's not going to be the end of the fucking world. We got this. But NO. Then he gets in his truck and leaves, says he's going for a drive. But now I have to sit here and be all worried that he's not coming home. I have no idea if he's gonna go off and kill himself. I feel like I can't leave him alone because he's been so depressed for so long.

He refuses to help himself. I don't think his parents ever taught him how to, they just fixed everything for him all the time instead of letting him figure shit out. So I'm the one that has to find him a private psychiatrist and make an appointment and I'm the one that has to call his family Dr. to make appointments when he's feeling shitty and won't stop complaining about it, but also won't do anything to try to fix it.

I just want a quiet fucking life. I don't want all this drama all the time. Everything is drama with this guy. Everything is the end of the fucking world all the time. I'm over it. I'm done. I'm scared of what he might do to himself when I leave, but I'm so fucking miserable being with him at this point.

And I think he knows I'm leaving. He's been so weird lately. Trying to be clingy and touchy, even tho I don't want it, and he's been very generous paying for a lot of things lately. Which just makes me feel more guilty, but then shit like this blows up and I am reminded again and again of why I'm leaving. But I'm starting to wonder if I need to just bite the bullet and kick him out of our house and end things now. I can't keep doing this. I'm sick and tired of dealing with all of this all the time.

I don't want to have to constantly do all the hard things for him. I didn't choose this. I did not make the choice to buy rental properties. I was actually very much against this when he started. I didn't want him to, but I didn't want to stomp on his dreams, either. I tried to steer him away, I tried to get him to just move us into the first house he bought, but no. He wanted to be a landlord because he wants to be rich and he listened to too many of those finance bros online and got it into his head that it would be easy. But I'm the one expected to pick things up when it's too hard and he can't. Or he expects his parents and his brother and me to just stop and help him with this shit (for free) when he needs help. I've told him to just pay people to do it, but "Oh I can't afford to." Then you can't afford to be doing this at all bro. Like you literally signed up for this and you cannot expect your elderly parents to help you with all the cleaning and repairing when you buy another house. You can't just expect me to do your administrative work for fucking free and then also be your spouse and therapist and mother on top of it all.

I'm just so frustrated and angry and worried right now and I can't fucking wait until I'm out of this and it's done with. I want to enjoy my life without all this bullshit.

[incarnateirony]

From the article you posted it’s a relief to know the unions are aware of the smokescreen the studios are putting out right now. While I can see the unions striking the rest of the year do you think the studios can hold out not making a deal for that long?

For those who haven't read the article, they're talking about this part, which... I've been talking about myself or a while before this,

Honestly the last chunk sums up my thoughts. Even with the inside feelers I have with some studios, I can look at the paperwork and numbers. I can tell you what they SHOULD be doing. They have not been doing that, so far, so I'm saying the same thing Wall Street has been. They truly thought they could scrooge out of this and they've scrooged themselves into a corner that's about to cripple them for years and it looks like they're still trying to double down on scrooging. It's truly just fantastically bad business, assuming their inethical model to yield mass profits would work regardless of reality or conditions.

I do know that if by end of August there's no resolution--which I really don't think there will be--Zaslav at least is gonna panic. The others are trying to echo his tactics late so they might be a month or two behind on the panic themselves. This is also why What Aren't You Watching was geared for September. (And please, goddamn muggles everywhere, do not Well Actually be about this shit, your lack of understanding of legal limits on union official action or the back workings are not something I want to go back over with 100 randos making excuse to keep streaming every time I make an offhanded mention.)

Streamers are already bleeding subscriptions, and the subscriptions are one of their main income flows, so if people turned off demand and cancelled their shit their bottom line goes in the hole in the last month of the quarter, and completely derails their growth. It's a fantasy dream to imagine all shows can be supported/ordered through while simultaneously hurting the studios enough to give the community leverage, the only leverage in continued viewing is larger more famous names being able to leverage-out smaller shows and creatives with lower demand in the crunching market, and it's shooting yourselves in the foot to try to keep their bottom lines up for fear of limited budget to order things, when pre-strike they were reducing orders anyway, and the point is to hurt their bottom line, but the internet decides to kick motherfuckin water uphill.

So. Hard to say. the content addict gremlins of tumblr needing to shoot gifs into their veins are a perfect example of what's enabled this behavior by consumerism, much less their aggressive refusal to understand why WGA won't announce streamer boycott officially on main rather than as an individual to avoid the fuckin lawsuit fallout blowing up their entire thing. It would be a suicide bomb decision to try to end it, when WGA-E guy retires and the guy running on the What Arent You Watching election platform takes over, and would turn it into a pile of endless litigation instead. Which is a viable tactic but only at the right time. So.

Zaslav projections to recover are based on a september return to work date. If not only is the strike still going, but people start bulk closing their services, their Q3 is going to go catastrophically in the toilet, almost beyond repair. Things that will take them literal years to recover from. WGA is playing chess here on a legal/business level and fandom is trying to argue about how to play checkers.

But, like myself and wall street say, just because obviously this is a stupid as shit nonsense pattern of behavior doesn't mean they're going to stop making bad decisions.

Honestly let it burn. We'll make our own.

Personally I think Amazon and Apple are kind of filibustering it for everyone else in AMPTP at this point, like some company union making bad decisions in comparison with two heavyweights leading a charge that will benefit them to collapse older studios, and now the older studios are realizing they're getting fucked but their deals have to fly by Apple and Amazon. Pre-strike Zaslav as the first one to admit Apple and Amazon and the tech giants would eat them if they didn't change how a lot of shit works, so I'm thinking he's gonna be one of the first cracking regardless of his Let Them Starve quote before.

[rickxation]

Protective Grandpa Cy 😭🧡

Cy's Beth is a very bad person.😬 Here's a little bit from the small fic under the read more; Cy catches Beth hitting Summer and takes them away from her:

"Your kids? Yeah," he laughed humorlessly, "I-I've been taking care of Morty ever since I-i got here. He's a wreck and-and now I know why! And Summer never wants to be here where she should feel safe. You-You don't deserve them and I-i-i'm not going to hang around for y-you to not fix your bullshit and keep abusing these kids!"

Getting Out

TW: abuse

Words: 1197

Cy portaled into the garage, he had been at Doc's trying to get his arm and leg repaired after a hostile Rick stomped on both. It was taking a while but he knew it would be worth it. The intricate synth flesh was grown by Doc who was excited about the project of developing synthetic flesh since he met Cy.

It was expensive and took a long time to make, but having limbs that were basically organic again made Cy happy. He didn't want to just get a clone like so many Ricks did. His body had been through so much with him, he felt sentimental attachment to keep it around. Also the idea of consciousness transfer unsettled him.

He threw some extra supplies they didn't use today onto his workbench. He was smiling at the idea of getting back to normal before he froze. He could hear shouting coming from the house. Beth must be drunk again, he thought, wincing. She got the Rick addiction genes very strong and it was sad to see his daughter spiraling.

Cy opened the garage door just in time to see Beth punch Summer square in the eye.

"What the-the fuck is going on?!" Cy took three long strides forward and stood between Beth and Summer in the entry hallway. His hands were shaking so he clenched them.

"Your bitch-of-a-granddaughter brought home some drugs and screamed at me for telling her she couldn't! She's endangering Morty," Beth slurred, anger plastered on her face as she looked up at her exceptionally tall father.

"You don't give a shit about Morty! I saw you hit him! You said you never would!" Summer screamed from behind her grandpa as she tried to walk around him to yell at her again. Cy held her back, barely containing his own anger and shock.

"Kids go get your backpacks we are leaving," Cy said in a dangerous voice. He looked around and saw Morty in the corner sobbing and pulling his hair. Summer tried to get Morty to stand up and come with her but he couldn't so she quickly ran up the stairs.

"I am taking them. You can try and stop me but they are coming with me," he snarled, making her step back, her angry expression wavering as a look of shock crossed her face. She had never seen her father so furious; it was a frightening sight.

"Don't you fucking dare! You abandoned Mom and I! She always knew you were a selfish coward! You're a-a piece of shit who couldn't even come around to meet your own daughter; to maybe be in my life?! This is all your fault!"

Summer came back down the stairs with her and Morty's backpacks; a few pairs of clothes and essentials quickly shoved into them and half zipped.

"Go to the front desk and wait for me. I will be right there," Cy turned his head to look at Summer who grabbed Morty's hands to make him stop pulling his hair. She helped him up from the floor and handed him his backpack, his whole form was still shaking. Cy shot a portal near them and Summer grabbed Morty's arm, immediately walked through, the portal closing behind them.

"You're kidnapping my kids? Where are you going to go dad? It isn't like you have anywhere else to go, that's why you came crawling back, right??" Beth snarled, trying to swing at him as he backed up so she couldn't land a hit.

"Away from here, obviously. And your kids? Yeah," he laughed humorlessly, "I've been taking care of Morty ever since I got here. He's a wreck and now I know why! And Summer never wants to be here where she should be safe. You don't deserve them and I'm not going to hang around for you to not fix your bullshit and still abuse those kids!"

He grabbed some of his stuff from the garage that he might need as she raged and started throwing shit around the house. He quickly went upstairs and grabbed some of his clothes and things like Summer had. Beth had chased him into his room, kicking his stuff around, a whole wine bottle in her hand as evidence of how much she had been drinking.

"I tried! I swear I did. I don’t know, maybe I am a piece of shit. Whatever. That doesn't excuse hitting kids! I can't even look at you. I'm leaving; hope you have a nice life," Cy spat and shot a portal, quickly stepping through before she could follow.

Cy emerged from the portal into the lobby of a nice hotel. He scanned around for Summer and Morty. Summer was standing next to the poor kid who was sitting on the floor, not pulling his hair but just holding his head and rocking a little. Summer was trying to look calm but she was watching him with small tears in her eyes. A bruise was already starting to form on her eye and she was clenching her teeth very tight.

"Hey, I got this, one sec, lemme get us a room. I swear it'll be ok," Cy said once he walked over. It was mainly to himself but he also was trying to reassure them both. His hands were trembling with adrenaline as he left them to walk to the counter. This hotel was a nicer one he had stayed in quite a few times so a lot of the staff knew him.

“Rickie! Hey, there you are! Your daughter looked terrified when she came through one of those portals you always used to use,” The alien girl behind the desk laughed.

“Granddaughter, actually, thank you for watching them for a sec. We need a room please, two bedrooms if you got them, or at least two queen beds,” Cy tapped his fingers on the receptionist’s desk impatiently. He looked around, there were a lot of people in the lobby.

“We are totally booked, I’m so sorry, Rickie. I literally have nothing for you, there might be an opening if someone cancels. You would have to hang around for a while though. I’m sorry, honey.” The alien looked genuinely sad.

“That’s ok, thanks,” he sighed and bit his lip, thinking of where else they could go. He didn’t want to take them to the seedier places, which there were a lot he had been to, but his mind was racing and it was getting hard to think.

“H-hey, Rick?” Cy jumped at Morty’s voice, surprised to hear him. He looked down at the kid who was trembling but standing with a steeled look in his eyes, “I-i-i t-texted Mort th-that we left home and-and it w-was bad. They said that Zee's gonna call y-you…”

Cy’s phone rang right then and sure enough it was Zee, "Baby, what the fuck! Are you and the kids at a hotel right now?! My guy, you know I have a whole ass spare room, why didn't you just bring them here?!" He stopped for a moment and collected himself, he realized he was raising his voice out of concern. "Just...just get here when you all can, baby, I have plenty of space for you here."

"O-okay, we'll be over in a sec," Cy replied, feeling upset that he was going to inconvenience his boyfriend. He hated needing help but he had to push that feeling away for the sake of the kids.

[muddypyro]

have been quite busy spending the past week 'in the barrel'

i have an uncle who's always said 'guess it's my time in the barrel' whenever shit really hit the fan and the norm of life was bad news. don't ask where the phrase comes from, as no one has a clue.

i hesitate to say it's truly barrel time for me as i've defenitely sruvived some bad shit, but here's the recap to date:

while watching over the firing monday, i woke to discover the merciless covid had once again returned to the household. still negative, i spent the day frantically sanitizing and masking with fingers crossed.

was glad to have scheduled the firing when i did, as the power did go out a few times with the windstorm tuesday. this, however, did not stop the unfolding calamity, my pre-packaged barrel. opened the kiln to see a disaster. glaze everywhere, all but a few works utterly destroyed, majority of shelves unsalvageable from glaze runoff, and it even managed to drip onto the kiln floor and through a vent hole. yikes! everything in my studio on hold until i can repair the kiln and wait for new shelves and patching compounds to arrive in the mail, purchased with the last of emergency funds hoping to not miss all of the upcoming contests and chance to make more work before the new year. i begin to feel sick by afternoon, test myself. i am become death covid.

i've had covid once before and this infection just laughs at the first experience. holy shit. wow. it's been 5 days now and no end in sight, but the barrel will decide.

i'll post pics of the destruction soon, it's really a sight lol. and aside from losing so much, the glazes turned out so wonderfully. as soon as i can, pics of the good shit will be shared here.

i don't like asking for help, but i could greatly use some. my business is fucked. money is tight. i am still sick af.

so...

when i get better i will be posting a sale on my work [thinking 22% off to celebrate the birthday i spent melting/degrading in quarantine] to try getting money in fast. you can also spread the word about the shit i make by sharing my website and your favorite posts here. that would mean so much and thanks!

i refuse to set up donations, being a firm believer in giving/taking equally and also that i am still with basic needs despite my poor kiln and livelihood being currently clusterfucked. this too shall pass, and that barrel won't be around forever.

stay tuned the one glaze test is sure to wow. still can't get over it.

[crmsnmth-journal]

7/29/2024 10:48 PM

So today was good, right up until tonight. I've mentioned my brother Alex before, and have talked about his issues. And I'm not going to give anymore information on that, you only need to know the bare minimum. I just feel sick to my stomach about the whole situation. I worry alot. Like a lot. And right now, I'm really worried about him and his family. I can't say what I heard was true or not, but I'm leaning towards that it is. And it's fucking with my head quite a bit. I don't know what to do about it, but I feel like there has to be something that be done. Once my mom gets back, I'll talk to her and see what steps we can take to stop this before it becomes something that can't be stopped. We need to figure this out, and very fast. Something is going to happen and it won't be good. God, it just makes my stomach turn. I'm extremely grateful I have therapy tomorrow, because I need to talk to someone about this. Privately. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. I've turned to therapy for a lot of things in my life, and I've taken everything I've learned and added it to my personality. Maybe she'll have some kind of advice or resolution…hell, I'll just take some words of encouragement at this point. I miss my brother. He's not the same has he was just a year ago. And that sucks. Our relationship was just finally being repaired after years of barely talking. I liked him. I'd come over and we'd just shoot the shit down in his basement for hours. I miss that guy. I miss the guy that took care of his fanily, was kind, didn't steal shit. I just hope that underneath this dirtbag skin, that he's still in there. And that he makes it all the way through this without things coming to their worst.

Other than that, it was a pretty good day. Didn't have to work until 4 at AV. Tomorrow's going to be crazy busy though. I have therapy at 11 AM, following that with a couple hours at the alley to put truck away and then AV at 4l, I had a kid I hadn't worked with work with me today. He didn't seem to like me all that much. Any time I'd try and start a conversation to pass the time along, he'd be real short and he took off like a bat out of hell at seven thirty. Not that it bothers me all that much, but still, it'd be nice to know what I did to him. It could be my looks. With the dyed hair and tattoos, sometimes it puts people off and gives them an instant dislike. I'm used to it. Tomorrow I'll be with Sage, and we work well together. Should be an easy night, othe than the fact that it's Mexican night and I don't have really all that much of that memorized. Still, gotta learn somehow and being tossed in the mix is a learn fast or get the fuck out kind of deal.

[correctrvbquotes]

Fade in to Past Church, Caboose and Tucker standing in front of the tombstones near Blue Base, with Future Church watching from afar

Past Church: Um... Maybe somebody should say something.

Tucker: Okay, go ahead.

Past Church: Not me, jackass. I'm not gonna eulogize myself.

Tucker: What? Why not, I eulogize myself all the time. Wait... I think I don't know what the word eulogize means.

Caboose: Wait, I know how to do this- Dearly beloved

Past Church: No, shut him up, seriously. Shut him up.

Caboose: We are gathered here, today, to witness, the joining together of Tex, and Church, in eternalness together, smuh- speak now! Or forever, rest in peace! With liberty, and justice, for all. The end.

Tucker: Man this funeral is laaaame. If you need me I'll be over by my rock.

Past Church: Hey Tucker, can I have a piggy-back ride back to base?

Tucker: No, nonono, I fell for that shit last time, I'm not doing that. That metal suit is like eight thousand pounds.

Past Church: Come on, one more piggy-back ride's not gonna kill ya. I'm in mourning here.

Cut to Future Church

Past Church: I've been through so much. At least help me paint my body blue.

Future Church: Okay. I may not have been able to save myself or Tex, but I still have time to save everybody else if I can just keep the A.I. from getting into Doc, prevent Lopez and Sheila from forming their Robot Army, and somehow figure out a way to stop the war between the Reds and the Blues all together. Huh. What if I... Yeah I'm gonna need some help on this one.

Cut to past Church and Tucker trying to activate the repair function in episode 23

Past Church: Hurhoor... Oh! Hey!

Tucker: Found it?

Past Church: Nah, no wait. All I found was the time and temperature function. It is currently twenty-six degrees, by the way.

Tucker: What? It's not twenty-six degrees out here, that's freezing.

Future Church runs by inside the base, and the camera conveniently cuts to him there

Future Church: Where the hell is that contact info for Blue Command. We really need to standardize the way we handle our information.

Back outside

Tucker: Naw dude, it's more like a ...switch.

Past Church: Well, give it a flip.

Tucker: I don't wanna flip it.

Back inside to Future Church standing in front of “Cabose's Importent Lists of Stuf”

Future Church: Okay, here we go.