#sorry idk what the american board looks like

[manyrandomfandoms]

oh my god Charles had a CRICKET BAT

I have never seen a cricket bat before and until this moment thought he just had a two by four strapped to a stick or something ready to whack people with

[astonmartinii]

An Oscar piastri request because I have severe brain rot. Oscar Piastri x black American!reader. Like they met through Logan and Oscar is just downright obsessed with his girlfriend and everything she does. No pressure I just really enjoy the way you write.

southern charm | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem american!reader

once upon a time, in the magical land of the 305, one man would take the mantle of the ultimate wingman

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, arthurleclerc and 21,983 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: pov you're my phone when i'm watching oscar piastri tiktok edits

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user1: babe those edits are doing over time

yourusername: i don't like your tone. oscar is the sexiest man ever, end of.

user2: if your gf isn't arguing with randoms online over you, is she really your gf?

user3: she doesn't hold back when it comes to oscar, that's my GOAT

oscarpiastri: can you stop sending them to me i don't like being perceived.

yourusername: too bad because i want to perceive you

logansargeant: i'd argue she wants to perceive you too much

yourusername: only because you have no one to perceive you

logansargeant: you can't call me lonely when i got you your boyfriend

yourusername: 👋 👀 hey look it's the main contributor to the male loneliness statistics 👀 👋

oscarpiastri: y/n that's mean...

yourusername: but not wrong 😑

user4: i know they're joking but y/n does not hold back

yourusername: had to prepare him for the mean f1 bitches

landonorris: so this is the mysterious gf...

yourusername: watch your step at COTA, oscar may obey team orders but i DONT

landonorris: oscar???

oscarpiastri: i'm sorry y/n can FACTUALLY do no wrong so you're on your own here mate

yourusername: thank you baby. oscar supports women's rights and wrongs he is a hashtag ally

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 621,983 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: getting daily outfit updates from the love of your life >>>

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user5: oh this has to be one of the healthiest celebrity relationships ever

yourusername: omg mom i'm a celebrity

user6: hi can we please get the skincare routine?

yourusername: thank you for picking the ones where i look good baby x

oscarpiastri: you look good, GREAT IN FACT, in every photo ever - every waking moment

yourusername: you're too cute osc x

logansargeant: so you get this and i just get venmo requests?

yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game

logansargeant: what game are we playing it's just venmo requests for coffee because "i'm a girl i deserve it"

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds logical to me

logansargeant: wait does she not do this to you?

oscarpiastri: no? also just know we split the money so thank you for all of my morning coffees for the last two years logan x

logansargeant: i regret ever introducing you two

user6: obsessed with this nightmare trio

alexalbon: can confirm they are a nightmare

oscarpiastri: don't call us a nightmare on my gf appreciation post

lilymunhe: yeah alex, where's mine?

alexalbon: any trio that breaks my motorhome from getting to competitive during just dance can be categorised as a nightmare - hope this helps x

yourusername: is it because we didn't invite you?

alexalbon: it was literally MY motorhome?

oscarpiastri: we beat our best score on rasputin so sorry not sorry

user7: idk how people can say oscar has no personality when he literally would throw hands for y/n?

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 24,871 others

yourusername: practising my smize for the COTA paddock can't allow oscar to be the only one to slay in austin

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user10: any spare paddock passes miss?

logansargeant: so i'm not allowed to slay?

yourusername: i think you need to save up all of your slaying for the track to get that point on the board

logansargeant: Y/N ????? i'm trying :(

yourusername: sorry logie bear that was a low blow from me, i'm proud of you

oscarpiastri: talented. brilliant. incredible. amazing. showstopping. spectacular. never the same. totally unique. completely not ever been done before.

yourusername: did you just quote lady gaga?

oscarpiastri: yeah, got a problem with that?

yourusername: nope. you're my favourite little monster

landonorris: i thought this was a healthy relationship - don't call my teammate a monster 😤

yourusername: that's what lady gaga fans are called lando, i've called him much worse, bring ear plugs to cota ;)

oscarpiastri: WAIT NO MY PR TEAM SAID NO MORE SEXY TIMES ON PUBLIC PLATFORMS

yourusername: boring ...

user11: so excited for the best f1 wag to be back in the paddock

yourusername: appreciate it but i can't take the crown from real icon lily

lilymunhe: omg thanks y/n i can't wait to meet you !!

alexalbon: are you always as insane as logan says

yourusername: he's probably not wrong but i prefer the term charming

oscarpiastri: we're just very passionate about things

alexalbon: like just dance?

yourusername: no comment.

mclaren

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 1,092,347 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

mclaren: get someone who looks at you the way oscar and y/n look at each other

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user14: i came here to watch formula 1 not to feel LONELY

user15: okay who was going to tell me oscar had such a hot girlfriend?

logansargeant: trust me literally spend more than 30 seconds with him and you'll know

oscarpiastri: okay but y/n is the prettiest person in the world AND the smartest, funniest and kindest person ever so you WILL listen and appreciate her

yourusername: god i love you so much

user16: is she an aussie too?

yourusername: nope i pulled oscar with pure american southern charm

oscarpiastri: it's true she lassoed me like a cowboy and it was love at first sight

yourusername: let me clarify we were at a wild wild west party but it was defo love at first lasso

landonorris: get someone who looks at you the way i look at the MCL60 😍

user17: lando is one of us

landonorris: i feel lonelier now, around oscar and y/n, than i did right when i was broken up with

yourusername: easy to look like that when your boyfriend is a dashing, charming and humble gentleman + generational talent

oscarpiastri: hehehehe stop you're making me blush

logansargeant: you guys are so gross

yourusername: says the man that's literally an accredited wing man because YOU got us together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 37,988 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: that moment when you see the love of your life achieve his dreams !!!!!!!!!! NO FR oscar i am so so unbelievably proud of you, you deserve this so much. i love you, thank you for letting me be a part of your life x

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user21: they're my parents now they have no say in it

user22: consider me charmed

oscarpiastri: thank you so much my love, your support is everything to me and i can't wait to grow old with you

yourusername: my heart is yours now and forever ❤️

oscarpiastri: also i'm finding some way to frame you celebrating in my garage

yourusername: i couldn't contain my excitement, sorry to the mechanic who literally got tinnitus from me screaming lol

user23: her in the garage is real f1 fan representation

logansargeant: as much shit as i give you guys, you're so cute and i'm so glad you guys have each other

yourusername: thank you logan!! i forever owe you one for introducing us

oscarpiastri: i promise when you get into a relationship i won't once complain about it

landonorris: i was a cynic, but yeah you guys are very cute - i am endeared

yourusername: oscar tends to have that effect

oscarpiastri: ummmmm i think it's more you

landonorris: okay i said you guys are cute you don't need to prove it again

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 1,239,084 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: the best weekend ever and wishing i could just take you everywhere with me, until las vegas my love x

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yourusername: take me with you

yourusername: who cares about life responsibilities when i'm with you

yourusername: i'd say i'm a good luck charm but you're too talented to need one

oscarpiastri: i love you so much i miss you already

landonorris: you said goodbye five minutes ago... we've not even got to departures yet

oscarpiastri: is it illegal to miss the love of your life?

landonorris: when i'm not in a relationship? YES.

user24: the way oscar was horrified at arthur's 18 hour screentime, i bet his is just as bad now

oscarpiastri: no comment

yourusername: it's 16 hours lol

arthurleclerc: where is my justice? my apology?

oscarpiastri: we fall asleep on face time. i'm not chronically online i'm just terminally in love with my girlfriend

arthurleclerc: trust me we know

logansargeant: the way i know he's about to fly because @yourusername texts me - always the second choice :(

yourusername: oof i guess i'll nap instead

logansargeant: no i can still beat ur ass on 8 ball pool

oscarpiastri: you can't out do the doer soz bud

yourusername: i miss you come back, bullying logan was so much better together in person

note: i hope this was what you were hoping for! i love oscar so i'm always happy to write for him and i love a good comment squabble! thanks for requesting x

[hughiecampbelle]

Being Becca and Butchers Child Would Include: Pt. 1

Requested: Heyyyy can I request some headcanons about being Billy Butcher child (like his and Beccas' only child they had together before Homelander r@ped her) and how some other people would react to it?? (*≧ω≦) - anon

A/N: My love!!! I did want to re-watch the show before I started writing so I'm very sorry about the wait! This was so fun to write! I really hope you like it!!! I ran out of room, so there will definitely be a part two!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Preference Reaction / Headcanon Pt. 2

Ok idk really know the timeline of how long they were together before the Homelander incident, but I'm making reader 10+ years old at the time of Becca going missing so that they're old enough to take part in Butcher's life afterwards

You were 10+ when your mother went missing

Before that, your life was average. Your parents couldn't get enough of one another, even if your father had some self-destructive tendencies, your mother could always reel him back in

Your father was heartbroken when you started talking and was more American than he'd hoped, but you still picked up on his slang

Your mother was attentive and loving, the both of them were, though your father always struggled with expressing it

Instead he would physically show it by hanging out with you, bringing you to the park and museums and just being there unlike his own father

You're closer with your mothers side of the family, especially your Aunt Rachel, but you have special connection with your fathers aunt, Great Aunt Judy

For the most part, it's the three of you and it's perfect

When you're old enough, you beg your parents for a dog

Becca isn't too sure, but after months of asking and getting your father on board, she agrees

That's when your family of three turns into four - your father names him Terror and you love him more than anything

Your parents are adamant your education is beyond important

Your mother primarily helps with homework since your father got too confused with the way you were taught math and had to throw everything in his wallet into the swear jar

They tuck you in every night and, when you were younger, would read you bedtime stories

Becca's new job at Vought was a great thing for your family

You were all so excited and proud of her - especially your father

You tagged along that night to the party, showing you were old enough to behave, proving you weren't a kid anymore

You even got your picture taken with Homelander

Not long after, your mother went missing

Your father changed

Things that were important weren't anymore

He let his hair grow, staying out at all hours, ordering Terror to look after you

In a way, you'd lost both parents that day

After Butcher talks to Mallory, he loses every part of his old self

Your grades tank and the school threatens to hold you back

You're angry and hurt and your life changed overnight. You don't care about homework, you don't care about grades, or friends, or petty school drama - you want your mother back

You start acting out, too. Getting into fights, skipping school, etc.

You and your dad start to fight, too. You fend for yourself most nights, tucking yourself in, calling and texting him without an answer. When he's not working for Mallory or doing his own investigating, he's drinking and getting into bar fights

Realizing he can't do this alone, that he can't raise you like this, that he's hurting you as much as he's hurting himself, he sends you off to your Aunt Rachel

She provides what she can, but you're still angry, cagey, spiky

After your father sends you a way, you kind of give up on whatever future you had planned. Nothing mattered anymore. Your mother was gone and now your father was slipping, too

You and Rachel fight and bicker and though she tries to call your father for help, he rarely picks up

Every few weeks he'll show up and order you around, reminding you you were such a good kid and that your mother wouldn't want you acting like this, but you call him a hypocrite

When things are rocky between you and your Aunt, you live with your great Aunt Judy

At least Terror is there, too

She's kind of a no-nonsense-woman. She doesn't put up with any of your attitude

It sets you straight for a while, she offers the mothering you were lacking, but you're still hurting. Your grades and attendance are just okay, but it's better than before

The less you see your father, the more obvious it becomes that he's not coming back

As you get older, you begin sneaking out, partying, drinking and doing drugs

There are days you spend at friends houses and entire weekends she doesn't see or hear from you

You leave messages on your fathers phone, yelling and screaming and begging and crying, wondering why the hell he abandoned you

He can tell by the slur of your words you're drunk or high or both

You try to get in relationships, but, like your family, you're afraid they'll decide to leave you too, and so you push them away before then

Rachel probably thought to get you into therapy, but Judy didn't believe in that kind of thing, so you never went, not that you wouldn't have refused to go at any age

You graduate high school, but just barely, and though Rachel and Judy are there to watch you walk across the stage, you can't help but feel what's missing

In the years between, you accept your mothers death. The case has grown cold and despite what your father says, you have little faith she's ever coming back

You still celebrate her birthday with her favorite flavor cake and you talk about her often. You brought all the pictures of her you could find, even the one of the three of you together with Homelander

Older now, and directionless, you leave Judy and seek out your father

You track him down to a hideout under a shop in the middle of the city. It wasn't really that hard to ask around. Everyone remembered the rugged jackass who called them a c-nt

You packed a bag with you, hoping you could stay with him and get some answers

You barge through the shop, yelling for him to come out, calling a fucking coward (and worse)

People you don't know or recognize let you down into the basement, asking who you are, why you're looking for Butcher

When you tell him you're Y/n Butcher they all look at one another - they had no idea you even existed. In all the stories Butcher shared about his life before, never did he bring up a kid

Hughie, Frenchie, M.M., and Kimiko tell you as much as they can without feeling like they're overstepping, introducing themselves as friends of your dad

They have no idea where he is, but if you'd like to wait

The Boys definitely argue in the corner about what to do with you

Hughie, empathetic, says to let you stay until Butcher shows up. You clearly had nowhere else to go and you deserved to know everything

M.M. argued it was better to keep you safe, let you go back to your Aunt, anywhere that wasn't here

Kimiko and Frenchie were conflicted

All of them were wondering why he'd have kept you a secret

You like talking to Hughie the best, he's the first one of them you trust. There's something familiar about him

You grow impatient waiting for him. He still won't pick up and you've asked all around- no one's seen him

You fall back into old habits pretty quickly

You're exactly like your father - stumbling back to the hideout drunk and swearing and falling asleep on the couch reeking of booze

You listen to angry music way too loud

Kimiko likes it, she likes you, too

When your father magically appears in a ridiculous outfit, he tells everyone Becca is alive before realizing you're there, too

Instantly, you start cursing him out

M.M. has to hold you back from getting in his face

Butcher asks what the fuck you're doing here while everyone else, as discreetly as possible, asks when he was gonna tell them about you

You and your father reconnect after years, arguing and lashing out at one another. He orders you back to Judy, but you're a legal adult now

You want to know where he's been, why he's just showing up now, why Vought is looking for him and why he's so adamant your mother is alive

[star-girl69]

Take Me To Paris

Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: your girlfriend finally takes you on a vacation! …to australia.

a/n: maybe i’ll do a part 2 in which y/n almost dies of spiders and snakes and georgia almost dies of americanness… we’ll see but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!!

Take Me To Paris - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: me desecrating australia, sorry y’all, um swearing, some kissing, mostly fluff, idk if this is normal but i sleep outside sometimes on the trampoline in my backyard so like… this is normal to me lol but idk, lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

You weren’t exactly scared of flying, more so just constantly aware of every little thing that can go wrong.

You can’t stop bouncing your leg, checking your phone every five seconds to make sure that it is in fact charging, you’ve rechecked your bag for your passport about 20 times, and you’re clutching your boarding pass so hard you’ve kinda crumpled it.

“Let me see your boarding pass.”

You hold out your hand to Georgia, who has been looking at you slightly concerned for the past hour, and she hands over the piece of paper wordlessly.

You scan the piece of paper, ensuring that, again, her name is on it, this is the right flight, and her seat is right next to yours.

You let out a deep breath before passing it back to her.

Everything will be fine. I’m calm. I’m so calm. It’s just a 16 hour flight.

Nevermind. You’re not calm.

“How do you do this?” You finally mutter, your bouncing leg coming to a standstill.

Your girlfriend, who is very annoyingly calm, looks up from her phone.

“Do what?”

“Like, planes. Travel. I just- are you sure it’s 16 hours?”

She smiles. “Yes, babe, I’m sure the flight I’ve taken a million times is 16 hours long.”

You let out a huff, putting your head into your hands. You’re sitting at one of those charging tables near your gate, waiting anxiously for them to finally start boarding, while Georgia stands next to you, completely unbothered.

She tuts and rubs your back. “I promise you’re going to be completely fine, yeah? You’re just psyching yourself out.”

“Okay,” you mumble, taking your head out of your hands to instead stare intently at the gate. You start cracking your knuckles absentmindedly, not even noticing you’re doing so until your girlfriend sets down her phone and grabs your hands.

“Okay, I love you very much so please don’t take this the wrong way.”

You shoot her a warning look.

“You need to calm the fuck down.”

You let go of her hands and scoff, trying to be mad at her, but she’s smiling at you- and her smile really is contagious. You never really believed it before, people having contagious smiles, and maybe you’re just in love with her, but whenever she smiles you follow soon after.

She tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting her fingers linger as you pointedly look away from her.

She rolls her eyes at your antics, but simply grabs your jaw and forces you to look at her other hand, now sticking her pinky out.

“I pinky promise that everything will be fine.”

“You’re a child.”

“Oh, babe,” she whispers, looking side to side. “Maybe don’t say that so loud.”

“Shut up.”

You try to hide your smile, mouth thinning into a line, but ends of your mouth curl up into a smile as she squeezes your cheeks together.

“Okay, pinky promise. I’ll even take your carry-on for you so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, you were gonna do that anyways,” you tease.

“Probably,” she shrugs. “Stop. Pinky promise. Now.”

You sigh dramatically but interlock her finger with yours.

“Okay, now, pinky promise you’ll calm the fuck down, yeah?”

“I pinky promise, or whatever.”

She tugs you towards her with the hand still on your jaw, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek- she lingers, for just a second.

“Love you.”

—-

You recheck your ticket for the same time, confirming this is the right seat.

“You want middle or aisle, babe?”

You had decided to check your bags for this flight, so Georgia is carrying both her backpack and yours, while also holding your hand through the aisles- it’s honestly pretty impressive.

“Would it be weird if I said middle?”

“Nah,” she shrugs, gesturing for you to climb into the middle seat.

You sit down, smiling politely at the man in the window seat, immediately putting up the hand rest in between you and Georgia- ignoring her smile as she sits down next to you. She starts to put your bags under the seats, but you grab yours.

You rifle through it one more time, laying eyes on your passport, your wallet, your phone charger, your book, and every other little thing before feeling calm enough to zip it up and stuff it under the seat in front of you.

“Okay,” you mumble. “I’m ready.”

Georgia gives you that same concerned look she’s been giving you ever since you got to the airport.

“Are you, like, scared of flying or something?”

“No,” you roll your eyes. “Traveling just makes me nervous. And it’s sixteen hours.”

“You’re gonna sleep for most of it,” she dismisses, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “There’s no way I can fall asleep.”

She smiles at you, and you stare right back, completely serious.

“Nah, you’ll fall asleep.”

“Nah,” you echo, “I won’t.”

“C’mere,” she says, wrapping her arm around you so you can rest your head on her shoulder, kind of awkwardly- but her touch and her smell is comforting. You force your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “There we go, darling,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to your head, leaving her lips there to breathe you in fire a second. “Much better.”

She settles back into her own seat, putting her Airpods in and taking out her phone.

You open your eyes and stare straight ahead at the blue seat in front of you.

—-

“I seriously cannot believe you didn’t sleep that entire flight.”

You’re oddly wide awake right now. Maybe it’s just the excitement of finally being off of the airplane, or being in a brand new place- it feels different here. The air feels thicker- more humid?

“Wait, what time is it here?” You ask, seeing nothing but gaping blackness outside the huge windows of the gate.

Georgia looks at her phone, her arm looped tightly with yours as if you’re going to collapse from exhaustion at any moment.

“12:31.”

You frown, feeling slightly disoriented- maybe you should have slept. It’s not like you didn’t try, though. You squeezed your eyes shut for what felt like entire hours, you forced Georgia to run her hands through your hair, you listened to the most calming songs you could think of, and you simply stayed awake.

Georgia fell asleep an hour into the flight, though, and you tried to be angry at her… but eventually gave up and just let her lay practically on top of you. Which was quite a feat in economy class on an airplane, really.

“Where are we going, then?”

Georgia looked at you oddly, again very concerned- you felt kinda guilty for how worried she seems to be over you.

“We got a hotel in Melbourne for tonight, remember? ‘Cause our plane landed at midnight, and it’s an hour and a half drive to Balarat, yeah?”

The memories finally click in your brain.

“Ohhhh, yeah,” you nod. “I remember now.”

Georgia tugs you along, walking faster through the terminal. “Let’s get our bags and let’s get you into a bed. You’re kinda scaring me.”

She looks at you out of the corner of her eye.

“You didn’t sleep at all? Like, not even for a few minutes?”

“No,” you shrug.

She shakes her head. “There’s something wrong with you.”

“Oh, okay,” you hum, tugging your arm away from hers. “You can sleep on the floor tonight.”

She grabs your hand and tugs you right back over to her.

“Yeah, that’ll happen.”

—-

“Oh, my God, look up, babe.”

“Huh?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from the sidewalk. You had successfully gotten your bags and a taxi to the hotel, and you were now walking along the sidewalk to the huge doors.

“Why are you staring at the ground?”

Your suitcase gets stuck on a crack, and you tug it forward. Maybe it’s because a bed is so close now, but exhaustion is really staring to set in. All you can think about is literally throwing yourself into the bed, dragging Georgia down with you, and collapsing.

“Watching for snakes and spiders.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Um, yes, I am. Australia is dangerous as fuck. Snakes, spiders, dingos, kangaroos, sharks, crocodiles, giant fucking bats? I’m not taking risks.”

“This is fucking Melbourne, not the bush.”

“What’s the bush?”

She stops and looks up at you.

“I need you to tone down the American-ness by, like, 10 please.”

“Okay, sorry,” you huff, smile crawling onto your face, the automatic doors of the hotel sliding open. “Not my fault the only thing I know about Australia is ‘G’day, mate. I’m from down under, yeah? Kangaroos and dingo babies-’”

“I will give you money to shut up.”

“Ooh, how much?”

“Whatever you want, just please, please, for the love of God stop doing that horrible accent,”

“It’s a wonderful accent,” you fake pout.

“It’s like nails on a chalkboard. I’m being so for real.”

“Whatever,” you shrug. “Can we go see kangaroos, by the way? Like I just want to go stare at kangaroos. I want to know that they’re really real, y’know?”

“Jesus Christ- you know what? Sure. We’ll go see kangaroos.”

—-

“Oh, this place is nice,” you smile, dragging your suitcase into the room and shoving it in the empty space next to the bed.

“Oh no,” Georgia frowns, staring at the bed. “I must have booked it wrong, there’s only one bed.”

“Aw, that sucks.” You sit down, kicking off your shoes and throwing yourself back onto the bed. “Have fun on the floor.”

“Can we just put a pillow between us?” She asks, trying to play along with the joke but already smiling as she lays next to you on her stomach, her own shoes falling to the floor.

“No, sorry. I just feel really uncomfortable sleeping with you, seeing as you… like girls and all, and I just… I don’t support that, sorry. I don’t want to catch it from you.”

“Really?” She smiles, crawling towards you. “You’re sure you don’t like girls? Not even a little bit?”

She hovers over you, hands planted next to your head, and you wrap your arms around her neck.

“I’m so straight I actually don’t even look at girls.”

She presses a quick kiss to your lips.

You gasp but make no move to push her away. “You just assaulted me.”

“You can assault me right back, baby.”

“Disgusting,” you groan, before sliding one of your hands down to her face to push her towards you, kissing her long and slow.

She adjusts herself so her legs are now in between yours, her hand drifting down to grab at your thigh and wrap it around her waist, pulling you even closer to her, until suddenly you’re barely even kissing her, just kind of languidly going through the motions as you eyes drift shut, her comforting weight above you.

“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs, finally pulling away for air but immediately trailing kiss down your cheek and jawline to your neck.

You turn your head to the side, yawning as you do so, letting her hand squeeze your thigh and her kisses turn into the faintest marks-

“Look! There’s a balcony!”

You try to push her away from you and sit up, but she gives you a bored look.

“I’m on top of you right now and you want to go see the balcony?”

“Yeah..? You’ll be fine,” you shrug, managing to maneuver yourself out from under her, running over to the sliding glass door and pressing your face against it.

Melbourne is spread out before you. Well, more so in the distance, you’re kinda just outside of Melbourne. There’s a few bright lights even at this hour, and you can see the faintest glimpse of the balcony-

“Aww, there’s a little couch out there!”

Calling it a couch was probably making someone roll over in their grave. It was just a two person chair made out of wicker, with a thin red cushion on it. It looked uncomfortable.

Your eyes drifted up to the stars.

“C’mon,” you urge Georgia, turning around to find her waiting for you on the bed, laying on her side with her head propped up. You start tugging the blanket off of the bed, ignoring the way she exclaims in mock outrage.

“The fuck are you doin’?”

“I want to sit outside,” you explain, switching tactics and instead grabbing her hand, trying to tug her up- but she packs a lot of muscle in that body, and you can only get her to move a few inches before she braces herself and you’re stuck.

“It’s 1 in the morning?” She says, eyebrows furrowed as she looks out at the balcony.

“Yeah,” you deadpan. “The stars are out.”

She sighs.

“You really want to go out there?”

You tug on her again.

“Yes, Georgia, please come with me. I need someone to protect me from giant bats. Also, what if I see a giant spider, have a heart attack, and die right in front of you?”

She looks into your eyes.

“Please, Georgia.”

“I do like it when you say please like that,” she sighs, corners of her mouth ticking up into a smile. You grin and place a kiss onto the back of her hand.

“Please, please, please, please Georgia, my talented sexy girlfriend, will you please sit outside with me?”

“Fine,” she groans with a smile, letting you tug her up and gather the blanket in your arms. She opens the sliding glass door and gestures you through it, of course not letting you pass by her without smacking your ass.

She goes to the edge of the balcony, leaning against it and looking out down below to the street.

“It’s cold,” she groans.

You’ve already situated yourself in the somewhat uncomfortable chair, blanket spread out over you, a perfect view of the stars in front of you- the only thing missing is your girlfriend.

“That’s why I brought the blanket, duh.”

“Smart-ass,” she teases, and you smile and open up the blanket for her. “Sure you’re comfortable being so close to me? Sharing a blanket?”

“Shut up, Georgia.”

“Yes, ma’am,” she mumbles, mocking you under her breath, but when she finally puts her arms around you any bratty comeback in your head disappears.

Her arm is around your shoulders, your head is leaning against hers, your legs intertwined under the blanket.

“I love you,” you mumble, also letting out a yawn.

She turns her head towards you, that signature big smile taking up her entire face. She presses a kiss so softly to your hairline you think there’s no possible way she could show you she loves you more.

She lets her lips linger. That’s how you know she loves you. She’s always lingering around you- chasing after your hand when you let go, kissing you too hard and immediately going back in for more, hugging you for what could arguably be called too long- she never wants to let go of you.

“Love you too,” she finally replies. One of your arms finds it’s way around her neck, hand playing with the back of her hair, her humming softly in approval. “I wanna spend everyday like this.”

You laugh a little. “Me asleep on my feet, stressed the fuck out, annoying you about Australia in a random hotel in Melbourne?”

“I mean I wanna spend everyday with you. Doing something new everyday. Even if you annoy me about Australia.”

“Aw, mate, you’re so sweet,” you reply with a small smile. She seems to choose to ignore you, and you decide to be nice and drop the accent. “I want to do everything with you. Except, maybe somewhere with less giant flying bats. How about Paris?”

“Giant fucking bats,” she mumbles to herself, blowing out air. “Where the fuck are you getting that- y’know, nevermind. Yeah, let’s go to Paris.”

“Yay,” you mumble, yawning again as you close your eyes, the pretty stars shining behind your eyes.

“Baby,” Georgia starts after a second, very softly, caressing your face to keep you awake. “I’m not sleeping out here.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine,” you mumble, kicking your leg out. “We’d be fine though. But, if the big bad Aussie girl is scared of sleeping outside, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” she says, seemingly offended even as she helps you up, grabs the blanket and keeps you close to her. “I’m not scared, babe. I just want to sleep in an actual bed.”

“Sure,” you hum, throwing yourself onto the bed and feeling Georgia lovingly place the blanket over you before climbing in beside you.

She rests her head on your chest, and everything feels so good and so right you yawn one final time, eyes shutting in a way that you know they’re not opening again.

“Goodnight,” you whisper.

She kisses the bare skin of your chest, letting her lips linger.

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

—-

[elsa-fogen]

Ok, Rosie headcanon for you!! Might be a slight AU but whatever lol

I like to imagine that Rosie is actually REALLY old. Died in the 1400s or something (maybe for being a suspected witch 👀) , and she just sort of kept up with the times until she found a period that suited her (getting there on that). This also ties into Cannibal Town/Colony name thing!!

Idk how much you know about American history (I know if I didn't live in this crazy country I'd know nothing by choice lol), but in the late 1500s Roanoke Colony was established where North Carolina is now. They struggled with supplies and relations with native people so the founder left to get supplies/help etc; when he came back 5 years later everyone had disappeared without a trace, no graves, bodies, only the word "CROATOAN" carved into a rock. It's a mystery nobody has solved since.

BUT.

WHAT IF.

They ran out of resources, right? What if food ran so low that people began to resort to cannibalism? And things were going so badly that some desperate person tried to summon a demon, anything to help them?

And Rosie, twisted and dark as she may be, took her own sort of sympathy on the poor, struggling colony of Roanoke, and took them all down to Hell as her own colony of souls: Cannibal Colony, leaving Roanoke empty without a trace of its inhabitants. From then on, she just sort of adopted any cannibals who fell into hell as part of her little town, so long as they assimilated and didn't cause trouble. She owns all their souls, yes, but they have some level of peace and security knowing she'll take care of them.

With the "updating culture" thing, I also headcanon that she liked to keep up with the times and stay current until sometime after slavery ended, a little before Alastor arrived (depression era) she didn't like where modern times were headed and just sort of...stopped progress, like a time capsule. Modern times started progressing too fast, and she didn't want everything to be forgotten in the rush to the future, especially the way the human world was looking with the depression. She did rename them to Cannibal Town eventually, since it was more than just her original Colony that gave her Overlord status.

I love Rosie 👁👄👁 sorry for the giant text block lol

P.S. Your art inspires me so much!! And your characterizations are *chef's kiss* I feel like your blog is consistently one I can come to to get canon-accurate character content without facing an onslaught of r********e (finally someone who can't stand it as much as me! Sending all the love 💓

oH WOW! This is really damn good and interesting headcanon! You almost convinced me to change mine to this (well, i like the idea of Rosie being SUSPECTED witch gshssh angssssst yessss). I realized that actually I don't have much that keeps me from just accepting this. Only 2 things

one is that she in her life was fighting for women's rights, and keeps doing it in hell, but i guess she still can even being older.

second one is more important. Rosie and Alastor are roughly same age (30-40 age gap is nothing in hell, were age gaps can be thousands of years) and this is one of the reasons they get along, i think.

Plus in my plot Rosie being a relatively young overlord plays significant role...

But as i said, you headcanon really cool! Maybe i'd use it for some new AU haha

P.S. Your art inspires me so much!! And your characterizations are *chef's kiss* I feel like your blog is consistently one I can come to to get canon-accurate character content without facing an onslaught of r********e (finally someone who can't stand it as much as me! Sending all the love 💓

GAHYHHHAFGS THANK YOU! I'm really happy to know that i'm not alone on this hate board hsbfsdhfj

Here you can be safe, never ever you'll see anything positive about this ship on my blog 😂 (no offence to those who likes it) Love you too 💖💖💖

[deliciouskeys]

Beware the Patient Woman (my foray into Sagelander)

This is set right after season 4. I don’t address anything beyond Sagelander. Ashley disappeared. Ryan is presumed returned to Vought Tower, maybe staying in a different room while they have to renovate Homelander’s apartment top to bottom. This is either a standalone or a chapter 1, idk. Had to get it out of my system. Rated PG cause I'm lazy/ a coward? (for now). AO3 link.

Sage may not have x-ray vision but she can tell who’s behind the door by the sound of the knock before she opens it. She didn’t have time to change out of her pajamas, but at least she was awake.

"May I come in?" he asks, peering down at her before his eyes start roving around the room.

"Of course," she says, even though she was looking forward to lying around in bed before having to put her suit on and trot out to the board meetings.

"Sorry, I know it’s early. I couldn’t really sleep last night." He walks in, almost brushing past her, arms clasped behind his back and hidden by the American flag cape billowing slightly behind him, so close that she has to lean back slightly to avoid getting an eagle beak to the face. But he didn’t mean disrespect by it, just distracted by looking all around the room.

"This was so much emptier when Maeve lived here," he remarks, stepping around various small pieces of furniture, nearly all stacked with books.

"I’m sure she needed the space to practice her combat techniques."

"Yeah or her drinking or her threesomes. I’m not sure she had the attention span to read a book in her life," he mumbles angrily, and Sage doesn’t like where this conversation is going at all. She knew there might be a downside to being given the room where Homelander’s old flame used to live.

"Did you want to discuss something?" she says, trying to keep any impatience out of her voice.

He turns around sharply to face her. "I really wanted to thank you for… everything that happened yesterday. I couldn’t even articulate how grateful I was for what you did for me."

For him, he thinks, despite her telling him point-blank that she did it to see if she could. But she was banking on his gratitude and on the high value he places on loyalty.

"You’re so very welcome. But I only did what you hired me to do," she says, cautiously, hoping this will emphasize that she may not necessarily have any interest in going beyond what she was hired to do. Maintaining boundaries with a man like this was always important.

"No, no." One of his hands emerges from behind his back to wag a finger at her. "Don’t play dumb with me. You know what I’m talking about. You did what I hired you to do, sure, but you did it even after I dismissed you. I’m not stupid, Sage. I know you could have used that brain of yours to fuck me thrice over and get revenge for how badly I treated you. I admit, I underestimated you. I did a dangerous thing, letting you go, when you were my best ally all along. So I… I know you could have made things worse for me, but you chose to side with me anyway. I was absolutely wrong about you, and it won’t happen again. I will listen to you, like I promised."

Sage hesitates. He’s saying all the right things, but these hollow promises aren’t worth much when they’ll fall to the wayside the next time he gets fed up with her. No, he’s leading up to something, and she’s wary of what might come next, so she’s not sure how she should reply to steer the conversation away.

"That’s good to hear. And no hard feelings, trust me."

Homelander nods. "Yeah, trust. I do want to ask you one thing. It’s just… I do trust you, but could I just ask you to keep me in the loop? No more lies?"

"I don’t think I ever outright lied to you," Sage answers, taking a deep breath, trying to keep her breath steady. Was this human powderkeg about to explode again? She thought she had him placated for at least a few weeks, but maybe she’s miscalculating just how paranoid he is. It's hard to feel completely calm when he's standing over her, forcing her to tilt her face upwards to meet his gaze.

"Well I’m including lying by omission," he says, but then his expression changes, softens strangely, and he steps back as if realizing that he's been looming over her. "I’m sorry, you’re misunderstanding, I didn’t come here to threaten you in any way. I just wanted to… maybe just establish best practices, going forward."

Shit, her heart rate must have spiked, finally given away that she was getting nervous. "Oh yeah, I understand. I appreciate that. Let’s discuss that."

Homelander shakes his head, wincing. "Look, I really don’t mean to dictate how you should work. I realize I’m doing it automatically. I’m catching myself telling you what to do again. I respect that you might not want to tell me everything– I do. I’ll be honest, it is a blow to the ego, and I’m not used to it, because… well you’ve seen the caliber of idiots that I've had to deal with. I’m not used to trusting someone else." 

He looks … unsure of himself? Is he genuinely apologetic? Sage is so reluctant to interpret anything he says as benign and without ulterior motives, but it’s tempting to believe him right now. She’s really at a loss for words, content to let him just keep talking and explain himself.

"So… I take back everything I said," Homelander mutters, his mouth folding even thinner as soon as he says it. "I trust you so much that I allow you to lie by omission. But if I ask you something, I’d really like a straight answer. Call it my weakness. I’m not a details guy. I’m not aspiring to look over your shoulder and micromanage your plans. But I just- I just need a little something in return for the trust. I need to be able to check in once in a while and know you won’t lie to my face."

Sage can’t believe she’s getting to watch this man wrestle with himself, threatening to spiral out while trying to define what’s important to him and what’s reasonable to ask of her. He’s debating with himself with only the barest input from her. She needs to nip this in the bud. She’s never felt that comfortable seeing him cry, and she doesn’t want things to get to that point, where she’ll have to comfort him instead of just reassuring him. "Hey listen. I love working with you. You’re giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. I’ll gladly discuss plans with you if you’re really interested in the boring details." Maybe she’s overselling it a bit, but he looks like he recovers his poise at least. 

"Anyway, that’s not even what I came here to ask you." he says, his tone sounding more like his usual self. "I wanted to invite you out for dinner. Just as a small token of appreciation- ah-ah! Nope!" he says, raising his hand as she tries to interrupt him. "Don’t say no before you hear the proposition. I found out you like sushi."

Sage’s blood runs a little cold at hearing him know something about her that she doesn’t think she ever revealed to anybody on staff at Vought.

"I located your mother and asked her a little about you over the phone last night," he says, as if guessing the question in her mind. Of course he did. He probably thinks that gives him leverage over her. Well, joke’s on him, because she hasn’t been in much contact with her mom, they haven’t gotten along since she was a teenager, and she’s not going to be manipulated by him threatening her mom. But her mom is right that she likes sushi.

"Oh yeah?" Sage asks, summoning a genuine looking smile to her face because she’s not sure how well he can tell when her mind starts running at triple speed when she’s feeling pressure. "I do love me some sushi. And I haven’t tried that many places since moving here, because it’s been so busy."

"Great!" he says, and now his smile looks genuine too, the fleeting reference to her family thankfully fading out of their conversation. "I’ve rented out this place called Masa night. You’re gonna love it. Three Michelin stars and all that. Best sushi in New York."

"Yeah, tonight works," Sage says, hoping it’s not too rude to imply that his setting her daily schedule for her is overstepping, his certainty that she’s going to love hanging out with him is overstepping. 

"Usually I wouldn’t put you through the hassle of going out, just have the chefs come to work at the Vought kitchen and host it at my place, but you know… my place is a bit of a disaster zone right now and yours… well I don’t wanna disturb your little setup you’ve got going on here."

Yes, there’s a problem she needs to solve as soon as possible brewing here. She’s very fucking glad she’s not being invited to dinner at his place. "So is there a dress code? Do I have to wear my superhero suit?"

Homelander scoffs. "I’ve rented it out. No paps, no photos. You can come in whatever you damn well please. Wear sweatpants if you want. This is all for you!" He smiles again, and it’s really genuine, and now she’s concerned that her fears are true. In his mind, this is a date.

"Just you and me?" she verifies, and when he nods she takes a deep breath and says something risky, but better now than later. "Just so you know– I don’t really do romantic relationships. I’ve slept with a couple of members of the Seven, but you don’t strike me as the kind of person who would want to get in on that action."

Homelander blinks, clearly taken aback. "It’s just dinner with a colleague," he says, but his tone is halting. "I don’t- that’s none of my business what you do in your free time with-" he licks his lips and Sage tries to guess what bothers him most about this. "Were you sleeping with A-Train? Is that how you knew?"

"No, I don’t mix work and pleasure like that." Sage can’t help but laugh a little. "I can tell you with whom. ‘No more secrets’, right? Noir and the Deep."

Sage can practically hear the wheels in Homelander’s head turning as he tries to picture it. "Huh," he says. "Well that’s uh… your prerogative certainly." Is that hurt in his voice? Maybe disbelief that she’d fuck people he considers far beneath him?

"Exactly. I assumed that someone like you would have no problem with workplace hookups," she says, shrugging. "Being part of the Seven isn’t really a normal gig. It’s so full-time, it’s your entire life. Might as well get some fun out of it."

"Yeah, makes sense," he mutters, trailing off, still thinking.

"So tonight then? What time?" she asks.

He snaps out of his thoughts. "I rented it out for the entire evening. So anytime from five onward. Up to you."

"Seven then?" she says. He nods and walks out stiffly. Sage shuts the door and leans back against it. She has to navigate this right. This overpowered manchild doesn’t have a good track record of keeping work and pleasure separate, but she can’t rebuff him in a way that insults him. She thought she was in the clear– that someone like her would never attract that kind of attention from him. She needed to be smart about this.

[quixoticall]

To Hell I Go

MASTERLIST // PROLOGUE

Suggested Listening: Anything Zach Bryan but particularly, “Open the Gate”, "Nine Ball" and “Oak Island”

WC: 6.9k Chapter Warnings: Gun violence, injury, a bit of Billy redemption I'm sorry idk how that happened, major character death (not really tho) p in v smut, oral (f and m receiving), barn sex, Steve and Sunshine being sassy with each other, parental death

Author’s Note: Hi!!! First, I want to say how grateful I am for the positive feedback. I love writing this story and I am so glad you enjoy reading it so far!! I wanna give a quick disclaimer, I did minimal historical research and am mostly going off vibes and the fact that I’ve spent most of my life in the American Southwest/South and come from a long line of cowboys and ranchers.

Reblogs and comments are always cherished and they are incredibly motivating!

“Excuse me, Miss, I’m hoping you could help me.”

The seat next to you shifts, bringing your attention away from the blurs of jagged mountain edges and gnarled Joshua trees you were watching from the train’s window.

You turn towards an unfamiliar face: angular and delicate, framed by tawny hair that’s cut much too short to be decent on a young woman.

You know better than to call attention to yourself so you just nod politely and hope this interaction is brief.

If your demeanor comes off cold, the girl does not seem to register because she launches into a flurry of words.

“I’m with the Sheriff’s office and few towns over, see, and there’s been a slew of train robberies recently. Have you heard about them?”

You shake your head minutely, your eyes stay trained on the cabin door, hoping Max comes back to pull you away from this interaction.

“Really? You haven’t? It’s all anyone can talk about! There’s been a series of train robberies around Fairbanks and Wilcox. Passengers have been robbed of their valuables and once they even robbed the safe onboard. We reckon it could be the Creel gang but we don’t have too much evidence—“

“Pardon me, but what Sheriff are you working for exactly, Miss…?” You cut her off.

“Buckley. Name’s Robin Buckley and I work for Sheriff Hopper, of course, have you heard of him at least?”

“Can’t say I have. What exactly do you do for Sheriff Hopper, Miss Buckley? It’s unusual for a young lady to be working for a sheriff is if not?” You query. But then again, the girl, herself was unusual, dressed in a man’s shirt tucked into a patchwork skirt with a pair of trousers peaking out underneath and talking fair more than appropriate.

“Well… I’m his secretary of sorts and his deputy’s too.”

This catches your attention and once again your eyes glaze over the peculiar girl. If she was here it was likely Steve or Hopper would be too and if that was the case, you had to lay the lowest of lows. Your eyes scan the cabin of the train, looking for any sign of the sheriff or his deputy.

“What is it that you do, Miss?” She stutters out, blushing under your gaze.

“I’m a governess,” you explain, smoothly, rehearsed. “My ward and I are traveling to California currently.”

It’s the role Creel had assigned as part of his plan. You the governess and Max your ward.

It was a deceptively simple plan: you and Max would board the train, disguised as harmless members of society. Then, once on board, Max would sneak off and make sure the luggage carriage was unlocked from the inside giving Tommy and Carol the opportunity to sneak on during the train’s first stop.

The two would have the opportunity to loot through passengers’ luggage and then Billy would be waiting for them a few stops later, to help them escape.

Against your own doubts, the plan had worked three times thus far but with you’re not sure how much luck you have left with what the Buckley girl has just divulged.

Almost as if by summons, Max appears at the carriage door, face calm but eyes panicked. Behind her you spot the source of her distress: Deputy Harrington.

He’s taller than you remember, you can see that now that he’s standing. Broader too, but undeniably, impossibly him.

“I’m sorry Miss Buckley, it was real nice talking to you, but I’ve got to be going now,” you say hastily picking up your skirts to step around the girl.

Stumbling into the aisle, you hurry to the opposite vestibule door, hiding your face as best as you can.

You’re almost out the other end of the carriages when something posses you to look back, perhaps habit or something worse.

Eyes lock, recognition flashes and yells erupt.

“Stop!”

You are out of the train car in a flash and onto the open vestibule. Knowing you have no place to run but the engine room at the front of the train, you decide to climb upwards onto the flat top of the traincar. You’re not too far from where Billy is meant to be, if you could stay hidden until then you had a chance.

You launch yourself at the thin, metal ladder, weighed down by your pretty, impractical traveling clothes.

You struggle onto the roof and crouch low to brace yourself against the destabilizing wind and rattling movements. Heavy bootfalls trail behind and you rush towards the next car, bracing yourself to either fall or jump.

“Sunshine? Is that really you?” You turn around once more—Orpheus cursed yet again—and for a moment time has gone backwards.

Steve looks equal measure heartbroken and confused.

“What are you doing here?” He bellows over the clash of scrapping metals and whipping winds.

“What are you doing here?” You shrill back.

“I’m… I’m the deputy,” he says as if that’s explanation enough.

“Well la-di-dah.”

He is unaffected by your sarcasm and inches closer, a little awed, a little stunned.

“What are you doing here?” He repeats.

What are you doing here? In this unrecognizable life with the weight of the world on your shoulders?

You could tell him. It’s Steve after all: your life-long confidante, the keeper of your sins. (What’s a few more sins and secrets between the two of you?)

There is no “two of you” anymore though and this is not your Steve either, standing in front of you, brandishing a badge. This is a stranger, an enemy even. This is the bastard who killed your horse and who is working with your most loathsome foe.

You edge away from him, towards the end of the roof.

“I’m robbing a goddamn train,” you finally respond before gathering your skirts and leaping.

You land, just barely, in a piled heap of frills, then right yourself in a rush before taking off running.

He doesn’t follow.

_______________

You trailed behind Steve into the stable.

“Steve I’m not going to hold you to a promise that we made when we were sixteen, if you don’t want to marry me, just tell me, I won’t be mad,” you yelled after him. And you loved him enough to make that true.

Your words stopped him dead in his tracks in the middle of the straw-strewn floor.

“Of course I want to marry you,” he said, eyes sparkling but mouth downturned in a frown. “I’ve wanted to marry you since I was thirteen.”

Your heart softened at this.

“Then what was all that about?”

You had agreed that you would finally reveal your courtship to your family when you got back from finishing school. The two of you had been loving each other in secret for three years now— seeing each other in the cracks of time between your schooling when others wouldn’t suspect. It hadn’t been something you had outwardly discussed, the secret. It was just something both of you were too shy to bring up. It had seemed so good, so pure. Something you didn’t want to be questioned over or given grief about or held against you. But once you were done with school, it felt like adulthood began and you could start loving each other in plain view. Get married even. It was time to tell your family, the two of you had decided together.

Except before you could’ve broached the subject at dinner that night, Steve excused himself from the table, suddenly. There was a mare with a broken leg he desperately needed to check on. Bullshit.

“Your father started talking about setting you up with that Carter fella and I lost my nerve,” Steve sighed. He looked at you with an apology etched in his warm eyes.

“He was only saying that because he didn’t know about us,” you soothed. You drew closer, reaching a hand up to smooth out the crease between his eyebrows.

“No, he was saying that because he wants you to marry you off to someone with money, someone in ‘society’. They didn’t send you to that fancy school just to end up with some ranch hand orphan,” Steve argued back but there was no heat left to him. He just sounded despondent and defeated.

You knew there was some truth to what he was saying. The expectation for you to marry well had always existed, unspoken but present still. And while you would hate to disappoint your parents, it wouldn’t be for nothing and there wouldn’t be anything lost. Your family had money of its own, your sisters’ future did not rely on you securing a rich husband and you let Steve know as much.

“Plus, Daddy’s a good man, he’ll want me to be happy and you make me happy, Steve.“

He smiled at you for the first time that night and it felt something like sunshine.

“You’re right,” he admitted, finally and he took your gentle hand in his work-worn one. One, two, three kisses dotted your cheeks before he pulled you close lips slotting hotly together. His hand gripped the stiff fabric of your bodice hungrily, the pressure drawing soft moans from your mouth.

Your back was against the wall the next instant and Steve’s lips were burning a trail of kisses down your neck. One of his hand traveled from your waist to your thigh, hitching it high around his hips and his lips found yours again. You tightened your leg around him to pull him closer, chasing the sweet friction of his body against yours. He whined into your mouth lowly in response. The next moment, he had pulled away from you and you whimpered at the loss. He was in his knees, his hands wading against your voluminous skirt.

He found your stocking-clad thighs underneath the fabrics and wasted no time in finding the edges of your undergarments.

“Can I?” He asked, earnest and hungry.

You nod feverishly.

“Words, darlin’. Give me your words.”

“Yes, please, Steve, yes.”

Steve disappeared underneath your skirt and you gasped when you feel his hot lips against the soft skin of your stomach. Your underthings were gone in an instant and his mouth traveled lower. Your legs parted and one thigh ended up on his shoulder.

This was new. Something you and Steve had never done, not for lack of wanting and now that you were here, it was sloppy and fervent and perfect.

His mouth locked onto where you need him the most. His lips, soft and malleable, latched onto your hot cunt and his tongue moved to circle your clit.

Your head rolled back against the weathered wooden wall.

“So sweet, so pretty,” you felt him mutter against your skin.

“More,” you pleaded and suddenly you felt his hand circling your slit, so close to where you needed the pressure.

“Inside, Stevie, please.”

“You want me to fill you up, darlin’? You want me to fuck you with my fingers.”

“Yes, please,” you moaned.

“Tell me who you belong to first,” he ordered. “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours, I’m yours, Steve,” tears welled in your eyes from the desperation.

“Damn right, you’re mine, sweet thing. No one else’s.” As he said that, a finger breached into your tight heat and began to slowly pump in and out.

The stretch became even more delicious when Steve added a second finger. You vaguely thought to yourself that you wanted to feel like this forever and you felt a sense of release approaching.

You cupped a hand against your mouth, stifling the moan that rips through when the rush finally hit you. Your legs wobbled, nearly giving out. Steve peppered a final set of kisses around your body before reappearing from underneath your skirt, eyes heady with lust. You trailed down the wall to sit across from him, eyes fixed on the bulge in his pants. You crawled closer, while Steve watched you with eyes transfixed. You placed a hand on either thigh parting them slightly so you could sit between them.

“I want to make you feel good, too,” you told him, thumbing his waistline.

“Yeah?” He said wantonly while his head lolled against his shoulder.

“Will show me how you like it?”

He nodded eagerly as you unclasped his belt buckle. He helped you undo his pants and free his cock from the confines of his pants.

You had heard things about sex, at school, from your more adventurous classmates and knew the basics well enough to put some into practice.

You reached out to palm the length of his cock, a gentle, experimental tug caused Steve to hiss in response.

“Put your mouth on it, for me darlin’,” his drawled.

You obeyed readily and took his tip into your mouth.

Groaning, he leaned back on one palm while the other threaded itself through your hair. You bobbed your head a bit and with his encouragement your movements grew and became more fluid. You tried your best to navigate the sheer length of him. He was larger than you had ever imagined and you could feel his tip pushing at the back of your throat while you used your hand to stroke what couldn’t fit in your mouth.

He watched you with lust-filled eyes, “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth. Wanna keep you there forever,” he muttered as he pushed your head lightly, making you gag which elicited another moan from him.

“That’s it, honey, gag on it.”

You could feel him throbbing inside your mouth as you sped up.

“C’mere, I need your sweet little pussy around my cock, right now,” he urged suddenly, pulling your mouth away. You obeyed, eagerly, and he guided you onto his lap legs straddled on either side and skirt bunched up around your middle.

He rubbed circles on your thighs as he eased you down onto his cock. The stretch was foreign but not painful, however, with every inch burned a little more. It was delicious. With some coaxing on Steve’s end you had managed to take him fully and your thighs were flush against his. You felt so full, tears were beginning to dot the corners of your eyes.

“Doin’ so good for me, honey,” he praised, cupping your face to wipe the tears away. “Now, I just need you to ride me.”

His hand moved lower, digging into hips as you began to rock against him. The burn had given away to a delicious friction and you wanted more. Your hips moved quicker against his drawing out a deep groan from Steve. He then pulled you close, capturing your mouth in a searing, wet kiss.

You rocked against him, finding a steady rhythm, whining keenly as a heat grew in your lower stomach.

“Hush baby, someone’s gonna hear,” Steve muttered, strained, before placing his hand over your mouth while only made you burn even hotter.

You felt your release coming up on you again. “Steve,” you panted against his palm, “I’m gonna… “I’m gonna.” You were so wrecked you couldn’t even complete a sentence.

“I know sweet thing, I know, you’re doing so good for me,” Steve soothed in response, “me too.” And with that he began moving his hips up to meet your thrusts with his own.

It had turned into something rough and fast, each thrust reaching deeper than the one before.

You finished, grasping for purchase at his shirt as you rode out the feeling. A few moments later you felt a spasming inside of you as his body went suddenly rigid and then relaxed.

The two of you untangle yourselves, panting as you came down from the bliss.

“Steve?” You probed, a little later when the two of you were propped in an exhausted heap against the wall.

Steve hummed in response.

“Is yours bigger than normal or are all of them like this?”

He was speechless for a moment before breaking out into full guffaws. Your own giggles erupted into full peals of laughter that could not be contained.

Eventually after the laughter had subsided and silence had overtaken the two of you while you became lost in thought, Steve murmured your name.

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna talk to your father tomorrow, man to man and ask for your hand, I promise.”

That was the last time you saw Steve Harrington.

_______________

“Max is missing,” you announce, to no reaction.

You continue, “we need to go find her.”

Deputy Harrington and his lackey had foiled the train robbery.

You had managed to get away along with Tommy and half the loot, thanks to Billy’s good timing. Carol and Max had not been so lucky.

In the days after the scuffle, the crew had hung low and part of you hoped that Max had managed to get away somehow. She was willful and resourceful. But, it had been nearly five days and there had been no sight of the young teen.

“We don’t go back for anyone,” Billy drawls through the cigarette in his mouth, “thems the rules”

“She’s your sister, Billy,” you insist.

“Her mama married my pops and then

they both died, that don’t make us blood,” he grunts.

“Fine,” you huff, disgusted, “I will go back for her then.”

“No you will not,” Creel murmurs from behind you as he enters the small rundown kitchen and both you and Billy shrink back a bit involuntarily.

Creel—Henry Creel, although you don’t dare call him by his first name—is the head of your entire operation. He is a terrifying type of man in that there was something otherworldly about him, as if one day he’d peel his vest away to expose winding gears in his ribcage or angel wings along his back.

Lifetimes ago, Creel had been a society man, his family’s name well respected in West Texas, but there had been some unknown incident that had resulted in the deaths of his parents and sister leaving him as the sole keeper of the Creel name and fortune.

Soon he had started setting up betting houses, prying on gamblers, cheating them out of money and then running them into the ground when they inevitably couldn’t settle their debts.

He was a grifter among men and a king among grifters. Add to that some bootlegging, a bit of robbery, and a touch of murder and Henry Creel ruled over an empire of crime. Of course, he needed folks to do his bidding which is why he came to collect the members that made up his gang.

Creel collected members for his gang carefully, only picking the most talented and they had to be ruthless but not as ruthless as him because he needed his crew to fear him, to obey him.

He turns to you and speaks, slow and measured, “You are my best shot by far and I cannot risk losing you, especially for such an insignificant cause. So, I don’t want to hear another word about this, understand?”

“Yes,” you agree tightly, fists balled tightly at your side.

“Wonderful,” he smiles, long, unfurling and mirthless.

_______________

Creel seemed to want to make sure you didn’t go after Max because the next day he sent you to pick up some packages for him at the boarder. He had emphasized the value of the items and the expectation for everything to be returned to him speedily and in tact. You didn’t bother asking what the parcels possibly contained, it was better that you didn’t know anyway.

The trip had been uneventful enough, the handoff occurring under the cover of pitch black night somewhere in the Rio Grande Valley. There were three packages, long and cylindrical, wrapped in soft leather that clanged when they moved. You strapped them to the sides of your saddle and set off, whispering a quiet thank you to the young woman that had dispatched the goods and riding through the night.

There’s only 50 miles left between yourself and the Creel House when you hear it. A steady gallop coming from behind you, accompanied by the jingle of spurs. You know who it is without having to turn around.

“Excuse me, Miss, but you look familiar,” Steve calls out as he appears at your side.

You ignore him but he continues, “You look like a girl I knew back when I was a youngin’ back home—look just like her, actually. A rancher’s daughter—pretty thing. Last I heard she married some rich fella, left her town and never came back.”

Your jaw clenches.

“You’ve got the wrong girl. I ain’t married,” you hold up a ringless hand for emphasis.

“I can see that,” the deputy next to you muses.

“And I ain’t no rancher’s daughter either,” you add.

Steve chuckles dryly at this, “My mistake then, Miss, must be my mind playing tricks. But y’know who else you look like? One of the Creel gang members that robbed a train out in Wilcox last month.”

“Yeah? Well, you look like the bastard who killed my horse,” you snap back and he falters.

“Apologies for that,” he responds sounding truly ashamed.

You scoff at what little good his apology does you and pull at your reins. He is matching your stride for stride with all the ease in the world, which is making it near impossible to lose him.

You are familiar with this path though, having ridden it dozens of times while working for Creel. You know that while the path may be clear now, there is a patch of brambles coming up that is a difficult maneuver for anyone unfamiliar with it. Anyone who has traversed it before however, would know that there a steep and unseen descent that, if going too quickly, would result in a very painful tumble into a patch of cacti. That was your only chance of escape, you just needed to make sure Steve kept his pace and was distracted enough to not see the trap you were setting.

“I’m gonna have to ask you to surrender, Miss,” he declares, claiming your attention again.

“And I’m gonna have to say no, Deputy Harrington.”

“You can’t do that!” He huffs.

“Says who?”

“Me! The deputy!”

“I’ll make you a deal then,” you call out spotting the briar patch in the short distance, “if you can catch me I’ll go with you willingly. Promise.”

You yank hard at the reigns and dig your heels speeding up before suddenly veering off to the right sharply. Steve had picked up considerable speed and by the time he sees the bramble and cacti it’s far too late. His horse is left struggling for footing and he tumbles downwards into a nest of needles and spines.

“Apologies for that!” You yell over your shoulder before riding off in the opposite direction. You spend the rest of the way back convincing yourself you’re not even a little bit sorry.

_______________

“Steve didn’t show up for his morning chores,” Lottie informed you over breakfast. “You wouldn’t happen to know where’s he’s at, would ya?”

“No! Me? Why would I know?” Your answer spilled out a bit too quickly, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind and conscious.

Hattie wrinkled her nose, “Because y’all are attached at the hip.”

“Right. Well, I haven’t seen him. Maybe check with Eddie?” You suggested to the excitement and delight of your sisters who were enamored with the slightly older ranch hand who had come to employment a few months back.

The two were practically tripping over themselves to go find him. They returned with Eddie in tow and still no inkling of where the other ranch hand might’ve been.

“Sorry, Miss,” Eddie drawled, “haven’t seen ‘im since last night. Seemed like he had a good night though,” he smirked, “was sighing up a storm. But his boots are gone and a few of his other things too.”

You thanked the three and sent them off to continue the search.

Steve had never missed a day of chores in his life, that itself was vexingly peculiar but, your father was also gone all morning and based off the previous night’s promise, you were inclined to believe they’re together, so you didn’t panic, but you were still worried.

When your father returned later that afternoon alone, you rushed to meet him at the door.

“Daddy, Steve didn’t talk to you about anything today did he?” You asked casually as he laid his boots by the door.

“Naw, haven’t seen him all day,” he looked perplexed, “although the girls tell me he’s missing.”

This was when your worry transformed into panic.

Supper time came and went and Steve was still unaccounted for. The same was true the following morning.

By midday, you had plead with Eddie to let you into their shared room to search for any sign for where he might be. Your mind was overflowing with worry and confusion.

Eddie escorted you and you watched, with pity in his eyes as you riffle through Steve’s things desperation mounting with each overturned blanket or skimmed-through book that led nowhere.

“Wait, what is that?” Eddie pointed at the headboard where it seemed like a thick glossy piece of paper was tucked between the bedpost and the wall.

You wiggled it out and extend the edges open for the two of you to see. It was a poster, the type that hung in saloons and public squares.

Cheyenne Rodeo, was printed along the top in thick lettering along with, Winner Rewarded in Cash Prize.

Underneath that, in smaller print and circled in pencil were a series of dates a week away.

“Shit,” Eddie muttered over you shoulder.

_______________

“Shit,” Billy mutters behind you. “It’s that mutton-punching deputy again.”

You groan and turn to look. Sure enough, coming up around the bend was Deputy Harrington and his trusted Secretary Miss Robin Buckley.

You and Billy are tucked behind a barn and while you’re clearly visible he is unseen.

“I’ll handle this,” you say firmly and Billy is quick to protest but you cut him off, “Billy, I swear to God, if you don’t let me handle this I will shoot your weasel off while you sleep.”

He recoils immediately, “I’ll wait here then.”

“Be ready to make a run for it,” you advise nodding to his horse, Pistol.

You take a moment to breathe deeply and straighten your posture in your saddle before ambling into the dirt road.

“Howdy,” you call out to the pair who are fifty paces away, their figures outlined bright with sunshine.

“Hello!” Robin Buckley greets near cheerful with a boisterous wave, “It’s good to see you again!”

“Don’t you have anything else to do besides following me around?” You question, squinting at Steve.

“Got wind of some stage coat robberies along this road and as the deputy, it is my duty to come and investigate,” he responds haughtily.

You scoff, “Duty?” You gesture at the angry red scratches that litter his body, clear remainders from your previous run in. “Was it your duty to get into a fist fight with a barn cat, Deputy Harrington.”

He reddens, tugging at his collar higher pulling your attention to his appearance. It’s the first time you’ve gotten the chance to take him in fully, head on, without having to flee in the opposite direction.

He’s dressed neatly in a blue buttoned shirt with maroon trousers and a fine set of suede chaps. A tan vest showcases his glinting silver, official badge. His hat and boots look worn but clean. He looks good, neat, well-kept.

A clear contrast to your mismatch, threadbare clothes and your wind beaten face and unkempt hair. No wonder he barely recognized the first time you crossed paths.

His eyes rake over your body, as if he’s read your mind and suddenly you drowning in self-consciousness and struggling to keep yourself from running a hand through your hair.

Twinkling laughter cuts through your tense regard for one another. Miss Buckley seems amused by the exchange.

Steve glares at his partner, “Robin, c’mon.”

She puts her hands up in guiltless surrender. “Sorry but you never mentioned she was funny.”

They divulged into a low argument that you only catch pieces of.

“—said charming not funny, she’s definitely both—“

“—find my suffering amusing—“

“—never tell you anything—“

“—thats fine, Red will tell me—“

Your ears perk at the last statement from Robin.

“Max? You have Max?”

The two exchange an uneasy gaze.

“Miss Mayfield is currently being detained at the county jail for suspected involvement in the Wilcox Train robbery.” Steve declares, inciting your outrage.

“She’s a child, Harrington!”

“She’s a suspect and besides, you can see her soon enough because you are under arrest.”

This elicits an eye roll from you.

“Not this game again,” you grumble.

“This isn’t a game,” he argues and to prove his point, unsheathes his pistol.

You stiffen at the sight but keep firm.

“Deputy Harrington,” you start, tone measured, “you and I both know that Henry Creel will not take kindly to his best markswoman being detained and he is not someone you want to make an enemy of, trust me, you won’t survive it,” you emphasize for his benefit, not your own, “so why don’t we part ways here and maybe you two find something more your speed. Maybe there’s a child nearby cheating at a game of jacks you can arrest and—“

A shot rings out, loud and disorienting, making your ears ring. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Billy, who had since appeared from behind the barn, that unloaded his gun, not Steve. He hadn’t hit either the deputy or his secretary, however he had managed to spook their horses enough to cause enough commotion and confusion for the two of you to slip away.

“C’mon!” You hear Billy shout, snapping you out of your stupor and with only final glance back, you urge your horse forward leaving Steve in the dust, once again

_______________

The news came, as all terrible news does, on a raining Sunday afternoon.

Up until that day, you had maintained your hope that Steve would come back, protecting it like a tepid flame in a storm.

But all hope was extinguished when your father handed you a torn news article. It only had four words printed on it: Cheyenne Rodeo Claims Casualty. Above was a photograph of a young man rough riding a bull. It was grainy and small but the photo was undeniably him. Steve. That four word title and photograph were all that you were afforded, the only thing that had been ripped out of the Wisconsin Tribune.

“No, no,” you shook your heard frantically, “it can’t have been him. Where’s the rest of the article? I need to see the rest of the article,” you demanded.

Your daddy sighed, grievously, “that’s the only thing Uncle Tony sent me.”

“Steve’s not dead, Daddy! He can’t be!” You shrill, “He’s the best bill rider to ever be.” Steve wasn’t supposed to meet the same end as his father, he was better than that.

“I’ll go to Wisconsin,” your father soothed, “I will find out myself.”

“Can I come with you?” You asked.

“I’m afraid you’ll slow me down, darling and besides it’s far too dangerous. But don’t worry, I’ll do what needs to get done.”

“Will you bring him back?” You pleaded, sounding like a petulant child.

“As long as he wants to come back,” your father warned back, watering the seed of doubt that had been growing in your chest since the morning Steve had disappeared.

Your daddy was back two weeks later. Alone. One look at his apologetic and grievous face and you collapsed onto the soft mud.

Steve was dead. Your father had confirmed it. He hadn’t been able to track down the newspaper but he had seen the certificate and he provided a singular printed death announcement to show you.

Steve was dead.

He had left and died with no explanation or reason. You would never know why he had done what he had, perhaps it was pride or recklessness, no one could say.

He had the privilege of living and dying by his own whims and follies and you were left behind with the messy work of grieving him and putting all the pieces back together.

_______________

“I appreciate what you did back there.” The words come out stilted and uncertain when you say them aloud. You can’t even look at Billy when you speak, instead your eyes face forward, focused on the terrain in front of you instead of the man riding at your side.

You’re not used to thanking Billy and it doesn’t seem like he’s used to being thanked based either.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered, as he shielded his eyes away. He looks like he wanted to say something else but the words were stuck.

“Out with it,” you urge, “whatever it is you wanna say.”

That was all the permission he needed to ask his totally unabashed question.

“Did you and the deputy fuck?”

“Billy!” You chastise, heat rushing your cheeks.

He shrugged, “You said ‘out with it’. And it just seems like you two know each other… well, is all.”

“We don’t know each other,” you answer hoping he drops this as quickly has Max had months before.

“C’mon darlin’, don’t bullshit me.”

You sigh.

“We may have crossed paths once or twice before.”

“Is that it? If you ask me, there’s some history there. Does he owe you money or something?” He presses, laughing.

“You sure are goddamn stubborn, y’know that?”

He smirks at you, a perfect picture of roguish handsomeness, “I’ve been told, yeah.”

Shaking your head disparagingly, you choose your next words with care,

“We knew each other when we were kids. And kids say things they don’t mean, they make promises they can’t keep and eventually those promises get broken but that doesn’t mean the world ends.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a bit dramatic?”

You laugh, “Max used to say that all the time.”

He joined into your laughter, “Yeah, kid was a pain in the ass but she had a way of keeping you humble.”

It was true. In your deepest moments of self-pity and despair, Max always managed to bring you back to reality in her unique, biting way.

You sober at the thought of her, imprisoned, “You really don’t care that she’s locked up?”

Billy exhales heavily, “it’s all the same to me. I told you we ain’t kin.”

“Bullshit,” it’s your turn to call. “If y’all ain’t kin, why didn’t you just leave her behind when your parents died?”

Billy stiffened. “I was fourteen scared shitless and she wouldn’t leave me alone. If I woulda known how things shook out, I woulda dropped her at some orphanage to keep us from this mess. Maybe she’s better off where she’s at.”

“You don’t truly believe that, do you?”

“I dunno,” his tone darkens, a previously unseen vulnerability on display, “is this the life you would want for your kin? Or yourself for the matter?”

The conversation dies after that.

_______________

You had spent three years trying to mend your grief following Steve’s death.

Nothing quelled your spirit and everywhere you looked, you couldn’t help but be reminded of him.

You stopped riding and shooting. You gave up reading. You would ruin your chances with every suitor that your daddy sent your way by refusing to talk altogether, no matter how much your parents tried to convince you that it was time to declare yourself engaged. You weren’t ready, you kept insisting to your parents despite their attempts to find you a match, perhaps you would never be ready.

It had taken three years for the Steve-shaped wound to finally beginning to scar over, you couldn’t stand another heartbreak. Regardless, one came anyway.

Your father was dying. An illness had set in that was eating him away. In the span of a few months he had become bed-bound and weak. It was just a matter of time, was what the town doctor had told you.

You did your best to be a solid pillar for the rest of your family, braving your father’s bedside care when the others couldn’t stomach it, taking over the ranch’s books and ledgers when your father fell to delirium. Grief was familiar enough that you knew how to manage around it.

The day your father died, it was sunny and bright which seemed like a cruel joke. Your sisters cried while you organized the funeral. Your mother refused to leave her room for three days, finally coming out in time for the service, hair impecable and wearing her best dress.

The funeral was well attended, of course it was. Your father was well known and respected in your community and you recognized everyone that came through the church doors that day in one form or another. Except for one man.

He was tall, imposing. Well dressed, but not showy. He stood in the back, the entire service, and then after that too. He waited until it was just your family left before he approached.

“Hello,” he purred, reaching out to kiss your mother’s hand, “my name is Henry Creel, and I’m here to talk about a debt that needs settling.”

Men were rotten. It was a fact truer than the blue sky. Most rotten men had the shame to be upfront about it, but not your daddy, it turned out.

No, he turned out to be the worst kind of rotten—the kind who hid all his ugly behind a gleaming veneer of false honor and integrity until all the rotten caught up to him. And then, he had the audacity to die and leave the consequences to you to deal with.

Turned out, your seemingly pious father had a penchants for gambling and, according to Creel, he was quite bad at it because he had left an outstanding debt the size of the moon. What made it worse was that he kept pushing payment off in a strange dance the two had: Creel would demand payment, your father would barter for a bit more time, claiming he was waiting for some money he had in the works, the money would inevitably never appear and then they would go back to the start. Henry Creel was angry, he had made clear. And he would be receiving his rightful payment, regardless of your father being six feet under.

“Hand the ranch over to me,” he offered your mama, “and all the debts will be settled.”

“Not a chance,” you challenged, “the ranch is worth more than what my father owes you.”

Creel regarded you for the first time, and you could see the machinations of his brain whirring.

“There has to be another way,” you proposed, trying to sound sure and steady when you felt neither of those things.

“Perhaps,” Creel began, “Perhaps, we could come to a different arrangement. Tell me girl, do you have any skills of note?”

You swallow thickly at the question, unsure what answer to give.

“She can shoot,” Lottie volunteered, “real good, too.”

“And she a fast rider,” Hattie added.

“She went to this fancy finishing school in El Paso, too. They taught her how to be a proper lady and a wife,” Lottie supplied.

“And she’s pretty—“

“Hattie,” you interrupt, “that ain’t a skill.”

“ I know but I couldn’t let Lottie say more than me!”

Creel chuckled, unamused, “ The little one is right, if yielded correctly, beauty could be a skill.”

You blanched. The way he said that paired with his lecherous smile didn’t sit right with you.

In the end, you were given a choice: you could sell the ranch and let your family fall into a sure poverty, or you could work for Creel, doing the rotten work that men like him needed done.

The choice was made and you were once left paying for the sins of another man.

You rode off behind Henry Creel into the unknown night a few hours after your father’s funeral, reminding yourself the entire way that you had made the right choice and hoping you’d be better than your father at being rotten.

[wrongcaitlyn]

Just read chapter 17! It was sooo worth the wait!

It totally flew over my head that nico and will got a apartment (had to go back and reread, lol) but I feel like someone needs make a pintrest board on what there house looks like, what do you imagine?

As soon as I read that will was going to a party I KNEW he was going to trigger nico with alcohol. It was really sweet though how he just kept confessing his love to nico, I couldn't keep giggling at that part

Oh poor will, the dating accusations with ncio are only going to get worse lol. In all honesty I guess he's not going to care that much about people knowing he's bi, but I don't think nico will like the speculation

Nico making the luckey one the seventh track omg we love the cabin 7 refrence!

I am so ready for this new album (my spotify playlists consist of nicos music from this au, not even egsagurating) I'm so happy with the addition of all falls down (I hc that the saxophone was Austin's playing!)

Also will Hazel and or Frank ever make a appearance in this au? If not why? (Genuinely curious)

This was a great chapter! I hope you have so much fun at the eras tour, and I hope you get a good suprose song!

so sorry it took so long for me to respond to this!!! at first i wanted to wait till i was able to make a pinterest board, but then i couldn't really find exactly what i wanted (but still made a board - here's the link!) so i decided i'd just describe it:

it’s a penthouse, and right now it’s veryyyy empty. they moved into it just before will’s next semester started so not much time to decorate!! they kept all like the basic furniture, so i do think they have a sort of living room connected to the kitchen - hold up, now i’m realizing i sorta based that layout off my uncles house. don’t know why i did that but!! we’re going with it. so they have two couches in the “living room” and a tv, leading to a kitchen with the generic appliances + a kitchen island - then i think that there’s a hallway with doors to one of the bathrooms, the guest room, and the studio, and then the master bedroom is also like. right across from the kitchen. if im even making any sense. i actually don’t know what a penthouse looks like so im just going off of pinterest vibes💯💯 anyway i think that eventually, they’ll also def have a lot of (fake) plants (bc lord knows they don’t actually have time to water and take care of plants), and LOTSS OF BLANKETS. i think that like almost every time they go to a target or smth to get smth they actually need, they walk out of the store with at least one blanket. they’re all over the couches, the beds, the chairs, idk why but i just want their apartment to be very very cozy :) aside from that, will 100% has his record collection moved to their room, with a few hanging from the living room- there’s definitely shelves of a bunch of awards or posters and things like that - A PHOTO WALL TOO!! definitely a photo wall. i also think that both nico and will are very messy, at least when they’re busy with something (and they always are) so every countertop and table and desk is filledddd with clutter. like so much. papers and textbooks and headphones and laptops they’re everywhere.

i realize it’s actually really hard to explain my vision for their apartment, which is funny bc i have a very specific layout in my head - and also one for nico’s apartment in so american btw!! so maybe sometime ill figure out how to draw a floor plan just so i can show yall what im thinking, but in the end, that’s the general vibe of it!!

now on to the rest of the ask‼️

will is ADORABLE he’s just such a simp and i love him for that. drunk words r truly sober thoughts in his case

youre 100% right with will not really caring abt people knowing!! i know some people assumed that will was the one being outed, and this was going to lead to some sort of angsty plot line, but seriously- will doesn’t care for that stuff. in his eyes, he’s already out, because he’s come out to all of his friends and the people he knows. the people on twitter are trying to search for something that just isn’t really that important

YES YES YES FOR THE ALL FALLS DOWN HC!!! i forgot to mention the songs and the artists in the end notes but seriously, all falls down by lizzy mcalpine is SOOOO fucking nico. i almost considered it being apollo (which i think it could also be) except the production style just wasn’t rlly very him if u get what i mean?? he’s much more like mainstream pop, and nico is too but he’s less worried abt sticking to a genre and i think it matches him perfectly

hazel and frank WILL be making their appearances soon!! i’ve had their backstories planned for sooo long and i can’t WAIT to finally include them. it’s been a long time coming but i swear it’ll be worth the wait!!

thank you SOO MUCH and i’m sorry again for taking so long to respond to this!! i had an incredible time at the eras tour and got some AMAZING surprise songs so thank you for that!!

[fiercynn]

bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme!

since there are both recent newcomers to bbs fandom and people like me who are new to bbs tumblr, i thought i'd create a getting-to-know-you meme for people to introduce themselves if they want! all questions are optional

note: i consider "fanworks" to pretty much everything people create related to a fandom, including but not limited to meta/analysis/discussion, gifs, fanvids/edits/fancams, filk, fanart, fanfic, fan food, fan crafts, etc. please include this note with the meme unless you have a different definition!

name and whatever you want to share about yourself

hi i'm deepa! i'm indian-american, in my 30s, queer, and agender – please use my name (either deepa or fiercynn is fine) instead of pronouns when referring to me!

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom?

i watched the whole show in the course of about 36 hours just about two weeks after the finale had aired, in february 2022! i joined bbs fandom on twitter soon after and have been there ever since, but i’ve only really been interacting on tumblr in the last few months

favorite ship(s)

patpran and inkpa…i'm a traditionalist ig lol

favorite character(s)

it’s so hard to choose but i think it has to be pran! i love his pining and his cockiness and his anxiety and his kindness and his grumpy faces. really channeling pat right now aren’t i

favorite episode(s)

episode 5 for obvious reasons; my second-favorite is a tie between episode 3 and episode 8 i think

favorite scene(s)

rooftop kiss, episode 3 bus stop scene, episode 8 backstage apology scene, and episode 9 picnic bench hand-holding scene

one thing you would change about the show if you could

LET INKPA KISS GDI

what are your some of your favorite fanworks made by other people?

ughhhhhh SO HARD TO CHOOSE and i think i'll do a longer rec list sometime but here are some of the earliest fanworks i engaged with that really set the stage for how i think about bbs

dynamic (fic, patpran) by riddles2 on ao3: one of the first fics i read in the fandom, it’s pat’s pov through episode 5 and it’s absolutely seminal imo

international love song (fanart/animation, patpran) by @architectxengineer: science is one of those incredibly multitalented people who writes, makes fanart, and animates?? among other things??? and this animation is sooooooo gorgeous and makes my heart absolutely melt

same page (vid, patpran) by dkyth73 on youtube: such a good fanvid of the show that p’aof himself tweeted about it!!!!

(if you create fanworks) what are your favorite fanworks that you’ve made?

traffic was slow for the crash years (fic, patpran): gotta plug my baby, right? this is my patpran fake dating au which is 80k words and was so fun to create!

we both know you’re my only dream (fic, patpran): on the other end of the length spectrum, this 1k fic is one of my favorite things i've written ever

just being friendly (vid, patpran) co-vidded with @scribescribe: yes i know this is an msp song but we made the vid before msp aired!! i think it’s very cute hehe

a song that makes you think of bbs (the ones in the show don’t count lol)

since “just being friendly” is already obvious from me and scribe making a vid to it lol, i'm going to say “keeping tabs” by niki, which is extremely pran-coded. like. look at the lyrics. doesn't it seem like it was written to be about pran’s feelings at boarding school, where he misses pat desperately and hopes pat’s thinking of him but is also trying to convince himself that pat’s forgotten him and that everything pran wanted from him was just a delusion on his part. PRAN 😭 😭 😭

idk anything else you want us to know?

i have opinions about pran’s sweaters

okay i'm literally going to tag all of my tumblr mutuals that i think are still in the fandom (if i missed anyone sorry!!), but also if you want to do the meme consider yourself tagged! please don’t let this flop lol 🤞🏽

@citystoryscapes @nicolasechs @architectxengineer @mahuhumaling @manogirl @galauvant @miscellar @monamay @dancing-out-in-space @melto @incandescentflower @loveongsa @dimplesandfierceeyes @geonbaeeee @faillen @cinnamonseadragon @inkpaa @yourunwiththewolves @prany @pranpats @teesemomma @iathefurrr @inventedfangirling @sharingfandoms @lamonnaie @maychild @thegayneurodivergentagenda @mistergreaves @dudeyuri @nyttvera @thecriers @threezoz @wontbotherrn @not0nmain

[inchidentally]

I'm sorry to bombard you like this, but you're like a therapist. So I want this winter break to end as soon as possible. Because seeing how many fans of different drivers enjoy fresh content, Oscar fans suffer a little. I mean, I should be used to it because I've been a Sebastian fan for the last 16 years and it's not news to me that someone disappears during the winter break. But it's different with Oscar and I feel a little sad about it. Well. I'm almost 27 years old and I miss a guy who doesn't know me. Can you write me something comforting? Thank you in advance! <3

don't apologize anon!! but let me just say I'm not remotely qualified as a therapist and could probably do with a second one for myself but I will absolutely try to offer comfort <3<3

ohhhh dude as someone who is only just now learning abt Seb in a fandom way I know you've already had it tough bc not only is that man charismatic and hilarious and beautiful he's also SO private. Oscar at least is so lowkey even in media engagement that it's not a huge surprise when he doesn't show up otherwise. but there's a reason I tag Seb "sun king". dude shines brighter than the screens behind a podium when he shows up. I don't know if I believe the rumors of him returning to F1 at all but I do think he's going to get back into a more public facing position at some point (and likely get back into racing in some capacity).

I think w Oscar what's been getting me is how excavation is the best way to get to know him and acquire content rather than relying on regular updates. I wish we had those too or at least the content from fans recognizing him - and maybe that will happen more w time. but I'm much more a feelings person than a fan person and Oscar's just really worked his pale little hands into my heart ??

I always felt like the intensity in his eyes when he looks at certain friends just had to have something behind it than that being his resting face. bc his resting face is basically 'please let me sleep sitting up' asgfaslglfsa. but the way he looks at Logan and Lando is so similar and the more I learn about loscar lore the more I realize I'm not just seeing things with him and Lando. it's not at all the same relationship but it's coming from the same place for Oscar in terms of his qualities as a person.

bc pre-F1 Oscar was wayyyy more open and expressive about his competitiveness and his celebrations etc - just overall way more open in general. so the amount that he kept checking in on Logan and making sure he was included over all the years they've been boys and young men from karting to F1… idk man that's extremely special and unusual coming from a privileged kid in a male dominated environment where the one goal is for the individual to win. sure, plenty of guys form strong friendships in those years and a lot of them had to leave home young to pursue racing beyond the karting level.

but for Oscar to not only have lived alone in the UK from age 14 and be in that environment and to be as motivated and hungry as he was it just says so much that he's still close with all the guys from his boarding school (where he had an attendance of under 40% !!) and that he's kept Logan close this whole time. esp after reading the Player's Tribune article about him we know that Logan's got a soft heart and that he's a "worrier" and just how hard it hit when his own family left him to return to the US. he often felt like an outsider and like, Oscar being the same age and being even further from his own family but some part of him still said to latch onto this American kid in particular. they were literally directly competing but Logan's even confirmed how it never affected their friendship. including Oscar interrupting a major victory for himself bc it was marked by Logan crashing out early and rushing to console Logan in person !! that's so unbelievably tender ?? winning these series' is the one thing in the world these boys want when they compete - but Oscar's thinking about his friend right when he wins ;__; kinda makes you think about how Oscar didn't spend one second celebrating as much as he rightly could have over that sprint win and consciously avoided bringing it up so often that Lando does it for him ;__;

and when the rest of the F1 grid is name dropping the right guys for fans to go crazy when it comes to quiz questions etc, Oscar goes right to Logan and Zhou bc he's actually known them the longest. and whenever there's the drivers parade or anything that brings the teams together, he's seeking those two out. when you consider the huge divide that formed when Oscar got the McLaren updates and especially after the sprint win he technically was in the company of all those guys at the front of the grid socially. he started getting those coveted fist bumps! but if he could spot Logan or Zhou he'd move or change his seat just to be with them.

and lol we know now that Oscar's been a major Lando fanboy since he moved to the UK so he'll also have seen how small and young Lando was for what he was achieving. he'll also have seen when Lando started opening up about his mental health struggles. and considering how much we've seen that Oscar leans liberal and socially sympathetic is in his likes and reposted content etc (esp him showing such a major social conscience during covid about people needing to protect the vulnerable) we know it isn't a leap to assume he understands/appreciates Lando standing for social progress within F1.

add to that Oscar having liked content that was to do with team atmospheres and cultures and Oscar himself being approached by McLaren when Lando started running circles around Daniel and all that drama was going on, of which Oscar was made painfully aware. oh and add that Oscar also liked carlando stuff back when Carlos was with McLaren… Oscar had so much knowledge about what to expect as Lando's teammate… and yet!

Oscar very specifically has never tried to create a 'bromance' with Lando when it would've been so easy! the Lando effect was right there! and we know from the Prema content that Oscar could've been how he was with Robert and Arthur and a landoscar bromance at least close to carlando and dando could've been born! it would've made Oscar's life so much easier in terms of being accepted by McLaren fans to yuk it up and be the cheesy jokes/exasperated guy from twitter (that everyone already knew him to be) to Lando's well-known hyperactive youtuber personality!

and we know he wasn't suddenly quiet and reserved out of nerves because Prema's social media popularity had fully prepared him for going viral and he'd done a ton of F1 track media stuff during his reserve driver year!

and the staring at Lando thing officially stopped being a fluke or something he did out of nerves as well because welp, it just get happening! Oscar shadows Lando and Oscar stands back slightly to let Lando have more of the spotlight and Oscar has endless patience with Lando and says "no I'll keep you happy!" when Lando tells him what to do!

Oscar is smart! Oscar is very aware of what the people he cares about are feeling! Oscar takes note of their personalities and accepts them for who they are! Oscar pays attention to what is going on around him in an intelligent and sympathetic way! Oscar doesn't default to posting the people he's closest to! Oscar views certain things as - if not 'sacred' - at least deeply important and not something to joke or be flippant about! his friendships supercede even his passion for winning!

Logan feels deeply and doesn't mind people knowing it! Lando feels deeply and doesn't mind people knowing it!

Oscar watches Logan and Lando closely with those focused brown eyes and Oscar is drawn to the people in his life who feel most vulnerable and Oscar interrupts his own victories to consider Logan and Lando !!!!!!!!

anon I assumed you wouldn't mind but all of this is to say that while we may never get Oscar appearing as frequently on social media as the other drivers - especially in winter - Oscar is someone we should use our down time looking more deeply into as a person because still waters running deep etc. what content we do have about him is so worth savoring I think.

because I for one definitely have taken too much about him for granted thinking he was Just a Guy and I was very very wrong about that.

I hope that helped a little??

[nerves-nebula]

Going from living in the southern US to moving to the northern US for work is insane bc like. White people seem to think the racism is all down in alabama and kentucky and shit and like. Yeah its there. Theres sundown towns and klan shit and my daddy got his ass beat for looking at a white woman too long.

But up north, man....People are just MEANER about it, idk what it is. Its like theyre more snide. They talk behind their hands and shit. They do the more like...quiet, insideous. They still have klan meetings, theyre just quiet about it. They quietly poison you. They ask me if I like henny or if I'm more of a lean girl and act shocked when I say I dont drink. They stare at a homeless white man and say "oh man he was a veteran, thats awful" but flip and say "ahhh that black dude over theres just a druggie its fine, pass him by."

White folks walk up to me and start like, bitching about the arabs and the indians thinking that because im not one of Them that I'll be on their side and say its okay.

Idk. Its very bittering. I wanted to move up here because I hoped i would escape it. But. Well.

But well indeed!!! I admit I’m not the best at being able to tell when racism is happening to me due to neither of my parents really being able to help me in that regard

(white mom who insists racism doesn’t happen anymore + African dad who is always away and is hyper vigilant about racism but doesn’t exactly understand the intricacies of antiblackness in America. They are both racist against black Americans and I never left the house growing up. also i might be autistic so picking up on when i'm being discriminated against is a bit of a battle too.)

But I do know that when I moved out to the east coast (california to be specific) for art boarding school I wasn’t invited back the next year because there were "concerns about my ability to keep up with the hygienic requirements" AKA: I was too dirty.

The dean of students (who later resigned because we all hated him) said I was dirty to my FACE and blamed me for bedbugs when there was literally no logical way they could have been my fault, and we had a ton of foreign students who could've gotten them while traveling, and they were also in dorms I’d never so much as stepped foot in. I was one of very few black students on that campus and I'd never been called fucking DIRTY to my FACE by a group of white people who acted as if that was a totally reasonable thing to say- and been blamed for something i could not possibly have done- by a member of my schools faculty before.

edit: got this on april 10th and saved it as a draft, then forgot to publish it.. sorry king !!

[thearcher1003]

2 3 8 24 25 26 for the weirdly specific and unrelated asks, sorry if this is a lot for you to answer

No it's never a lot, I actually like getting these asks😅 Also, not sure if you are the same anon but thank you for sending in the asks, you are amazing, never stop <3 2. Thoughts on veganism? I don't really care for what people eat as long as they are happy. Those who adopt veganism are not harming anyone and if that's the way they choose for themselves then let it be. Fun Fact: I am a vegetarian, not that anyone asked. 3. A specific color that gives you the ick? Idk if it counts as an ick but I it kind of hurts my eyes to look at certain neon colours, the really bright ones. Like I am okay with neon highlighters but looking at sign boards that use a very bright neon colour does not suit me well. Maybe it is more about the flashiness of the colour and not just the shade, does that make sense? I am bad at explaining stuff. 8. Do you change into specific clothes for the house when you get home? It depends. I have started to wear my sweatpants and loose clothes while going out more often lately, so if I am wearing that I'll probably not change but if I am wearing denim or something form fitting then I'll definitely switch over to my comfy sweatpants. 24. Which do you find yourself using, American or British English? English is not my native language so I don't exactly use it for verbal communications but when I do it's a horrible mix of both (if we are talking about accent). In written form it's also both I guess, my spellings are definitely British cause that's what we were taught in school but I think I use more American terms and phrases because of all the American media I consume. 25. Would you say you have good taste in music? I believe so, yes, I would say I have good taste in music. 26. How’s your spice tolerance? Everyone in my family likes spicy food. My grandma's spice tolerance was REALLY good, that lady used to chug down chilies for fun. So taking her as the standard I think I would stand at a medium, I can handle good spice in my food but eating them raw, that's far beyond me.

[the1975attheirverybest]

I'm the anon that asked you about the hypothetical 75 song about Palestine and all that.

First of all, thanks for answering me, I like to read your takes on this stuff, that is why I asked. I think it's generous of you to answer these asks, cause you have no obrigation of educating anyone here but still, you do, and I am grateful cause I learn a lot from you.

I only said my reasons to disagreing with you are not important because I know and respect yours, so I didn't think my reasoning would contribute to this debate. Also, I didn't want to sound confrontative, so It was the contrary of acting in bad faith.

Since you asked my vision on this matter, I think it's an oportunity to mention that I know it's diferent from yours because I'm not American. Even though you are palestinian-american, you live in the US and you guys tend to have a very self centered point of view on things.

Last year, I asked you something about this same issue, I think It was about the boycott on Starbucks and Gabriette, and you answered something like "must be good to be white", 'cause I didn't know about that.

I didn't answer at the time, it made sad, but I understood where you came from, It is your reality. But I must remember you that not everyone here is from US and people in other places have their specific issues to deal with.

Where I live, for example, more than 50 black people were murdered by the police for no reason last month, during the pandemic our negationist president promoved a genocide against indigenous people and right now we are dealing with major floodings, there are cities underwater and you don't see It on the internacional news. You don't hear about any of this and I don't call you anything derrogatory just because you don't know about this things, I get that, I think it's normal not knowing about every nuance in a conflict that I don't deal with directly.

This is not me trying to compete over the worst catastrofies, or who suffers more, It's just a comentary on the fact that SOMETIMES (and I underline the SOMETIMES) you presume the worst on what people ask you here.

I know that this may come in such a bad timing because of what is going on with another stupid anons but not everyone in here is out to get you! I like you, your takes and your writting and I wrote this with the best of intentions, ok?

Don't let the bad people get so much under your skin, that you miss or mistreat the good ones.

I hope you stay! ❤️

Ohhhh that was YOU? Okay bro I owe you an apology because at the time there was another non-white person tryna ruin my life behind the scenes and when you said you’re not white, I assumed that you were that person. Lmao. Like for all the hate that I do get on here, there’s even more stuff I don’t talk about that happens on my personal accounts etc. but yeah that was my bad sorry oops.

Also, I think you’re right, like, I spoke to someone young, (like 21 or 22) who’s in Europe and their coverage and news is different and gives them a different pov. I think I assumed since, in this instance, both conversations and libs are super Zionist and Islamophobic, that it would be the same across the board. So that’s why I said that at the time.

Ironically, that’s also kind of why I think people with power, or platforms, should say something. Like you’d think 7 months in, we would all agree on the bottom line facts but every time I have a conversation with someone on here it turns out that not even the timeline of events or the facts are established. Which indicates that folks are either not caring enough to look stuff up or are just getting a 1-sided narrative.

I don’t know how to feel about that. Cuz I get that I don’t have nearly as much power or influence. And I know that sometimes people come on here to exclusively get a rise out of me or fuck with me or whatever. But also on the other hand if the conversation helps to move the needle a little bit, then maybe it’s worth it? Idk man. Like I guess I’d thought it would be easy to measure a “general consensus” at this stage, but I think I’m wrong on that.

[justlarkin]

Hey idk if you will accept this or not but I'm getting engaged tomorrow. I'd really appreciate some wedding headcanons with Fuxi and Mc2. You can ignore if this is uncomfortable

Nah, it's no issue. Congratulations and good luck with the engagement, Anon. ✨🎉 I'm mostly familiar with American weddings, so my apologies if this isn't what you're looking for. Plus, I'm just bad at this type of thing and I can't do those intimate little details writers on here do 💔😭.

(When people specify MC2 they usually mean she/her but idk, so I'm flip flopping between she and they throughout, sorry about that.)

-Fuxi wouldn't be able to keep the engagement to himself. He's going to tell EVERYONE he can about it and it'll be the only thing he'll talk about until the wedding happens. Pay respects for all the victims who'll have to endure this.

-He's paying attention to every single detail during the planning. Everything has to be perfect whether it be the venue, decor, seating, invitation, etc. It all matters to him.

-This dweeb would probably even whip out a pinterest board with all of his wedding ideas and aesthetics to show her.

-Of course Fuxi will be putting his fortune telling ability to use to make sure the event goes perfectly as possible too. This includes the customary fortune telling to select the perfect wedding date.

-The wedding's theme will of course consist of lots of reds, golds, and many other lucky symbols because Fuxi needs all the luck he can get. MC is so unpredictable he can't even guarantee she wouldn't choke on a graham cracker before the ceremony is able to begin.

-Considering he's enthusiastic about the idea of wearing matching outfits with MC during Christmas, he'd LOVE to coordinate matching wedding attire with them.

-Money is obviously no concern for him, so he's going to splurge on it. MC only deserves the best and he's making this wedding spectacular af for them. Big venue, fireworks, dancers, extravagant catering, beautiful decorations, etc.

-I'd say it's safe to assume that most, but not all, of the guests that attend will be MC's since Fuxi seems more reserved and he's mostly attached to MC.

-I must mention the mandatory Summoner groomsmen to come hype up MC and dramatically ugly cry.

-Fuxi would totally show small gestures of affection towards MC throughout the day like little hand squeezes, hugs, smiles, and kisses.

-There will be A LOT of photos taken to document the special occasion. Those poor, poor wedding photographers will be busy all night.

-I'd say that Fuxi would opt for a more private and intimate ceremony, so he'd want to do that somewhere away from the guests.

-Fuxi will be dramatic af as soon as he sees MC in their wedding attire. I'm talking about some chest-clenching, nose bleeding, falling to knees and thanking the heavens type of dramatic.

-The vows? MC is going to be there for a while. Fuxi WILL get distracted multiple times and go on long tangents about how perfect and incredible MC is, despite her obvious embarrassment.

-The favorite part of the cake cutting for Fuxi will 100% be being able to hold MC's hand while they cut it together.

-Also, he will 100% insist on feeding MC afterwards.

-The ceremony might be a bit private, but the reception will be a full-on party. It should only be expected from someone as social as MC. Their guests need to have a blast. All that money Fuxi splurged isn't going to waste here.

-Fuxi will spend the entire night being incredibly clingy. It's just an onslaught of hugs, kisses, and words of affection. Him and MC aren't going to be seen apart for more than a second. It's the equivalent of a dog following around it's master. 

[meduseld]

And then I ended up with headcanons for other crew daemons so if you just care about that here goes as it's also v long:

As above, Billy Orren has a Northern Bat bc they look sweet but it also marks him as a bit of an outsider bc in my head he's Hickey but not evil more or less. Henry Collins has a St. Bernard, another lovable lug who is under a lot of strain to Keep Everyone Safe.

James Fitzjames has a Serval because fancy African cat, but also the vibe that some people keep them as pets while denying what they really are and need underneath. Very Jaems Fitzjimbles. She might even secretly be a he......

Francis Crozier has a Sea Otter because they seem cute and harmless but they are Way Bigger IRL than people think (they can be 5 feet long. That's a person. A Small One but still) and they are vicious af predators in their element. Plus aquatic and furred and suited to Frankie's life. She looks like a lil teddy bear but she will eat your face off okay?

Sir John is mixed for me bc I want an animal that says pride and arrogance which generally means peacock but the females don't look like that and I don't want him to have a bird bc you know he looks down on the many seabird daemons on board. So gauche to have a bird don't you know? I also don't want to give him something with too much bite, like a dog or cat. He's not. A fighter. So idk.

STEPHEN STANLEY HAS A SALAMANDER. My God I was so happy to hit on this. Associated to both medicine and fire! Not a cuddly fuzzy one. Small enough to always be under his clothes and like. Moving. So people are like uh dude wtf do you have but Stanley doesn't like people looking at her even. The daughter pic scene would be replaced by someone seeing his daemon scene. Just. Stanley with slimy healing firey creature stereotyped as gross and difficult to love but they are One Soul. She also helps out in surgery with her ability to get into crannies and hands (as a parallel to Collins' and his daemon's function) but people are icked out by her while people Love Brigid. (Macca thinks she's LOVELY and wishes to hold her, obvs).

Goodsir has, and this is another one I'm proud of, a Grasshopper mouse. She looks all teeny and soft and sweet and vulnerable. She's also North American which draws on his connection to this new land. But uh, Grasshopper Mice? Their nickname is Werewolf Mice. They howl, they are vicious and successful hunters of highly venomous arthropods which means they have crazy high pain and toxin tolerances. Ain't no kill like overkill from a fuzzy cutie, as we know from them both.

John Irving has a Dall sheep! Which is also way deeper than it looks. It's a wild cold weather North American breed, as in the region they're in, and Jirv was historically a shepherd, and the whole lamb of God, sheep in the Bible etc etc thing but crucially? Female Dall sheep have horns. Most sheep species, only the male has horns. Which is an externalization of John's entire tortured sexuality thing and also she can show that mean streak sometimes (Blanky would keep his leg bc John's girl would below at them all to move and ram it open). But John def feels they can see he's Not A Real Man when they see her as it's like an exteriorization of the shame he feels over his homosexuality and desire. Guess how many times Hickey obliquely comments on her. Guess.

Hickey's is a rat man c'mon you know this it's so perfect. He wishes he could get her in that sheep wool but.

Jopson has a lovely sweet fancy little cat because he is Daddy's Number One Boy but also God's Perfect Killing Machine. They have the same eyes, too <3

And finally, bc I don't have the others clear sorry to say, of course Saddest Man Alive Edward Little has a donkey. Because Eeyore. But also the biblical bit, but also because they are very hard working animals, often not given their credit, and gdi Little was Acting Captain for a good bit and treated real bad and he did his work. A sad, but quite strong, yet more easily led than leading animal is perfect for him. Also John is Delighted at the biblical aspect and the sad donkey gets lots of warm laying together cuddles from the sheep so there's that.

[I'm sure that in no small part contributes to Hogdson feeling left out from the Terror in group and his falling to the Hickey darkside and all.... I said Billy would live longer I didn't say the show would stop being a tragedy.]

I've been toying with a daemon AU for The Terror (more like sobbing bc writing has been like pulling teeth lately but) it occurs to me that in a world with daemons the Tuunbaq is uh. Way more fucking terrifying?

Because in Pullman's canon, you cannot, like literally are unable to, mistake a daemon for a regular animal. It's not. It's a soul. It can be hidden in a flying flock of birds and you can instantly spot the daemon for what it is. Now imagine the Tuunbaq, the thing made of muscles and spells. It's not​ an animal... but it's not​ a daemon* either. You can see it and know it's something else, entirely. Not a soul, not an animal, but something alive and alert and actively against you.

How fucking terrifying would that be. How could Goodsir and the others even communicate that? And now the denial and the inability to properly express what the Tuunbaq fucking is makes so much more, and deeply awful, sense. Their doom is incomprehensible and undeniable.

*There is a version of this where the shamans, besides giving up their tongues, give up their daemon to the Tuunbaq as well and are soul bound to it instead explaining why both parties need to be physically near each other. Which again would add to the cosmic horror of it all, this thing that is not man or daemon but you can sense it eats souls and those traces of daemons are upon it. And this old man that they shot... where is his daemon?

Is it a case of "he's already dead dude, attempting medical care would be torture and irresponsible" which would change Stanley's reaction as a veteran war doctor who has seen these cases considerably​ or does it just fuel the racism horror in them being like wtf he has no daemon, is he even human?!  

[maleaser]

Monopoly Headcanons:

Misaki gets Park Lane and Mayfair while Isaka cries in the corner.

Shinobu flips the entire board directly at Miyagi (even if Miyagi had nothing to do with him loosing)

Akihiko spends all his money on properties and insists on giving them all to Misaki

Takafumi and Hiyori team up and beat Kirishima's ass

If Kirishima does end up winning, he rubs their face in it for the next week

Takano and Takafumi once played a 6 hour game of Monopoly together and both forfeited by eventually passing out from tiredness at 4am

Mino plays monopoly by himself regularly and looses

Yukina refuses to play with Kisa because he always wins

Hatori once had to break up a fight between Yuu and Chiaki because Chiaki won three games straight

That three games straight was the only time Chiaki has ever won

Isaka has Asahina on standby anytime he plays so he can get pro tips

Hiroki challenged Tsumori to play and ended up loosing and has been holding that grude ever since

Nowaki plays with the children at the hospital and always let's them win

Miyagi is too scared to play monopoly with Shinobu anymore

Fuyuhiko played with Haruhiko when he was younger so he could teach him about economics

Misaki uses Suzuki and the rest of the bears as support companions when he's loosing

Aikawa always wins. ALWAYS. No matter who she plays against, she always wins.