#still gonna tag it in the hopes that someone will commiserate with me :)))) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

astonmartinii · 10 months ago

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reluctant cupid | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem bff!reader

you could set your bestie up with a driver or you could confess your feelings? lando norris is dumb.

based on this request: Could you write something about being best friends with lando and he tries to help set you up with another driver you have a crush on, but then he realises he actually likes you so he has to sabotage all the wingmanning he’s done and you end up together Idk if that makes sense 😭🫶🏼🫶🏼 -@mbappesleftthigh

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 49,340 others

yourusername: someone please save me from the grips of hinge and this oh so lonesome life

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user1: girl knows the whole f1 paddock and looks like that and is still alone there is NO HOPE for me

user2: this post might have thrown me over the edge

landonorris: "i'm so lonely" "why don't you approach that guy" "no too scary"

user3: that's so real though

yourusername: thank you!

landonorris: how do you expect to find a boyfriend when you don't like to talk to anyone and treat hinge like a gameshow

yourusername: i didn't come here for actual advice let me commiserate in peace. god, can women have anything these days?

landonorris: ???

yourusername: oh! idea! pretty please set me up with one of your friends? they have to be great otherwise you wouldn't be friends with them, right? RIGHT?

landonorris: i guess...

yourusername: please lando, i've never asked for anything before

landonorris: i can feel you pouting through the phone

yourusername: so you'll consider ?

landonorris: fine...

user4: bro either gotta admit his feelings now or be condemned to be in the plot of a weird romantic comedy

user5: i personally don't think i can wait until the third act break up with this side character LANDO ACT NOW

oscarpiastri: you'd really trust lando's judgement?

yourusername: he's friends with me, he's got good taste?

oscarpiastri: touche

maxverstappen1: whatever you really wanna say oscar, you gotta keep it in, these idiots will figure it out eventually

yourusername: ???

landonorris: ???

user6: the grid are so done with their asses i can't 😭

user7: but what if the universe doesn't intervene and lando really has just lost the girl forever?

user8: bestie we can't be thinking like this

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and 812,047 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: being back home means being bothered by her (and whatever is her newest hyperfixation - it's sylvanian families this month if you couldn't tell)

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user9: i am so sorry but they are so in love

user10: it's cute in the movies, but these blind bitches are starting to piss me off

yourusername: THEY CAN HEAR YOU, BE A BETTER DAD

landonorris: they're not my children

yourusername: you take that back right now, you LOVE them

landonorris: you spent my money on them yes

yourusername: that's fatherhood, buddy. buckle up

user11: whoever he sets her up (if he's still dumb enough to do that) is gonna be the biggest third wheel in history

user12: who would willingly sign up for that

user13: me. i would. i have two working eyes and have seen y/n

maxverstappen1: who are these funky little critters and how can i procure some for p?

yourusername: finally a man with sense, literally any grocery store or toy store

maxverstappen1: perf

yourusername: if lando stops being mr. grumpy i'll ask him if i can come to a race and p and i can play animal families

landonorris: i am NOT mr. grumpy

maxverstappen1: you kinda are dude. is it the set-up is it stressing you out?

landonorris: nO

yourusername: then why are you putting it off !!! lando i might die from terminal yearning !!!

landonorris: i have an interested candidate

yourusername: really? do you think they'll actually like me? like this isn't a pity date right?

landonorris: nope!

user14: lando is typing through tears as we speak

user15: if y/n does go on a date with someone from the paddock i actually hope it goes well, as one lonely girl to another, it's tough out here we need one win

f1wagupdates

liked by user18, user19 and 11,043 others

tagged: yourusername & carlossainz55

f1wagupdates: turns out lando is a bit of a cupid as his childhood friend y/n y/ln was spotted out and about with carlos sainz.

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user20: HE ACTUALLY DID IT

user21: that moment when you're so down bad for a girl that you set her up with your best friend

user22: that moment when you're such a wimp you can't admit your feelings and set up the girl you like with a literal GREEK GOD

user23: i am so bamboozled by this move he literally looked like a kicked puppy on his stream bro this is your doing 😭

user24: she's a lover girl she's going to get her heart broken :(

user25: this has mess written all over it

user26: she's literally described herself as a terminal yearner i feel like she'll throw herself in and will get hurt

user27: UNLESS! this is all part of the plan? what if lando set her up with a messy guy like carlos so he can be the shoulder to cry on and that's how he slides in?

user28: that's very convoluted, very rom-com but i'll take it if it means we get lando and y/n together in the end

user29: i know this probably won't last long but can we all appreciate how hot this couple is?

user30: lando and y/n runs rings round y/n and carlos

user31: lol lando is a bad friend for setting her up with CARLOS him and charles are THEE red flags

user32: i hope y/n is prepared

user33: also lando hasn't thought it fully out if his plan is to be the shoulder to cry on because he's just opening her up to be called a homie hopper or a paddock bunny

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 702,554 others

carlossainz55: productive weekend with my girl

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user34: well that's not y/n

user35: that finished faster than i expected

user36: lando DO NOT quit your day job

landonorris: call me bro

carlossainz55: si, cabron

user37: i don't think they'll be cabrons after this call

user38: maybe this is all just going to plan?

user39: yall gotta give up this conspiracy theory maybe these people are just as dumb and mean as they seem to be

user40: soooooo... what did we all do this weeekend?

user41: i broke a girl's heart @carlossainz55 twins 👯‍♂️

user42: AHHHH???

maxverstappen1: oh that's not-

yourusername: you're so chronically online :(

maxverstappen1: you're alive?

yourusername: yes. coming at you live from the bed i'm currently rotting in

maxverstappen1: not going to say i didn't warn you?

carlossainz55: really? in my own comment section?

yourusername: one second, we're having a conversation here

maxverstappen1: yeah carlos, gosh.

carlossainz55: i'm so confused

user43: okay power move to just start a conversation in his comments?

user44: the power of confusion is simply unmatched

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 56,309 others

yourusername: certified boy hater

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user45: a ferrari boy will do that to you

landonorris: feeling hashtag victimised rn

yourusername: obviously doesn't include you girlypop. but you seriously need to reevaluate your judgement

landonorris: carlos is attractive?

yourusername: he ghosted me?

carlossainz55: i am right here

yourusername: blocked.

landonorris: did you actually just block him?

yourusername: yes 😀 !

landonorris: god this is a nightmare

yourusername: not if you'd take a GOD DAMN HINT

landonorris: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

user46: yall this is a public instagram comment section

user47: don't say that, this is their argument in the rain moment

user48: lemme grab the popcorn 🍿

maxverstappen1: this better not include the real number one girlypop here

yourusername: of course not pookie

oscarpiastri: you gonna continue the lil spat above this?

yourusername: no?

oscarpiastri: well some people (max and i) would like to listen so please continue

yourusername: no, i don't think i will

oscarpiastri: GOD YOU PEOPLE ARE INSUFFERABLE

maxverstappen1: what oscar said

user49: oscar and max are so real

user50: they can't leave us on this cliff hanger

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,043,788 others

landonorris: some snaps from '23

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user51: have we just been thirst trapped?

user52: i don't think it was intended for us

user53: this has "i am hotter than carlos sainz" written all over it

yourusername: posting tits on main, brave.

landonorris: i came second in singapore.

yourusername: sureeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. modesty, ever heard of it lan?

landonorris: slutshaming isn't cute y/n

yourusername: you kinda have to pull to be a slut lan. you are under qualified for the position

landonorris: if you keep being mean to me i will call your mum or my mum.

yourusername: try it. i see cisca more than you, i have faith in her

landonorris: the line is busy. are you on the phone to MY mum right now?

yourusername: maybe.

user54: we're so close to them getting their heads out of their asses

user55: don't get my hopes up

danielricciardo: i hope this works lol

landonorris: you don't think i'm sexy?

danielricciardo: it doesn't matter what i think

landonorris: i'm not sexy :(

danielricciardo: you're baiting me but yes, you are sexy.

user56: i'll fight anyone who made this man believe he's not beautiful

liked by yourusername

user57: I SAW THAT 📸

user58: someone just lock them in a cupboard at this point

oscarpiastri: noted.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 89,034 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: yeah, yeah. you can stop yelling at us now.

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user61: LET'S FUCKING GO

user62: it was worth all that yelling. i expect an invite to the wedding now.

user63: wedding? girly they only just realised their feelings after a DECADE

maxverstappen1: it was about fucking time

yourusername: okay miss ma'am. some people are EMOTIONALLY VULNERABLE AND NOT VERY GOOD AT PROCESSING THEM

maxverstappen1: you must've been emotionally constipated because this was painful

yourusername: it was painful for me too

maxverstappen1: so painful that you dated CARLOS

yourusername: one date! ONE!

maxverstappen1: carlos said can you unblock him so he can be mean to me?

yourusername: fine.

carlossainz55: STOP MAKING ME LOOK LIKE A BAD PERSON. YES I AM NOT THE BEST AT RELATIONSHIPS BUT LEAVE ME BE

maxverstappen1: lol

yourusername: lol

user64: unblocking carlos to hit him with the lol max and y/n might be more iconic than lando and y/n

landonorris: not on our relationship announcement post 🤨

user65: OOP.

landonorris: i love you doofus

yourusername: i love you too muppet

landonorris: how much was the betting pool for your family?

yourusername: it got to over £300

landonorris: ours was £750

yourusername: are we dumb?

landonorris: no!

oscarpiastri: two dumbass girls saying 'yass' to each other

yourusername: LEAVE US BE

landonorris: oscar :(

user66: not their own families betting on when they'd get together 😭

landonorris

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,430,778 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: first win, hopefully not my only one.

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user67: MY BABIES

user68: i feel like i've been on this journey with them

oscarpiastri: thank god you guys got your shit together, i was THIS close to jumping out the nearest window if i had to watch lando mope around like a kicked puppy when y/n had the lil thing with carlos

user69: so it wasn't some grand plan?

oscarpiastri: no he's just dumb enough to actually set up his first love with his best friend

landonorris: OSCAR!

oscarpiastri: am i wrong?

landonorris: no... but! i got there in the end

oscarpiastri: good thing you're faster on track

user70: the grid being just as done with them as us is killing me

maxfewtrell: finally this unnecessarily long and overly convoluted saga has come to and end, lets never do this again!

landonorris: i'm locked in for life bro no worries

yourusername: awwwwwwwwwwwwww i love you too bubs

maxfewtrell: stop being sappy under my comment

yourusername: you just complained we didn't sort out our shit fast enough and now we're too sappy?

landonorris: STICK TO A STORY BOZO

maxfewtrell: now you're even more ride or die... can we go back?

yourusername: nope!

landonorris: nope!

maxverstappen1: i for one am very happy for you both

yourusername: thank you max !!

landonorris: not so fast, he had the biggest bet on us in the paddock

yourusername: get that bag sis

landonorris: ???

yourusername: we can't fight it anymore, let them have their jokes, we actually have each other now :)

landonorris: yes we do :) xx

user71: golly gosh this is so fucking cute

fin.

note: i hope this is what you were looking for and that you all enjoyed!! i'm just waiting on my tester sticker sheets for my small business @badlydrawnf1cats on here and on instagram, if you wanna give it a follow x tHANK YOU FOR READING MY LOVES X

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 #f1 social media au #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris insta au #lando norris x you #lando norris instagram edit

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ravens-words · 1 year ago

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Commiseration Tuesday

With AO3 temporarily down, lots of us are sad at not being able to read when we wanted to! With that in mind, I’m taking the opportunity to invite you guys to share a little something from a WIP to keep us going through the downtime! Preferably something we haven’t shared before, but whatever works for you!

Such a wonderful idea, thanks for tagging me @bonheur-cafe @noxsoulmate, love you both 🤍

This is from the Tarlos Zombie AU, which is coming along slowly. I hope you like it!

There's a distant static wave of sound that pulls him back into consciousness. He's still not fully capable of controlling his limbs, or his eyes, so he stays still in hopes of figuring out what's happening. Seconds later, there a rough tap on his cheek, a loud voice calling his name. "-arlos?" His heart pounds in his ears, and he clumsily lifts his hands up to them, pressing tiggtly as if that will muffle the sounds. "Hey-" there's that sound again, a little familiar, and a little too loud. "- Carlos?!" There are hands on him, now. TK? No, he thinks immediately; the hands aren't rough, but they're not gentle, either. TK's hands are always gentle. TK. Five men. Guns. A knife in his gut. TK, screaming at them, screaming for him. TK being dragged away from Carlos' outstreched hands. He opens his eyes immediatel, and the first thing he sees when his vision clears is a clear blue sky, then- "There you go," Judd says, smiling broadly, "had me worried there for a second." TK. Carlos bolts upright, the man's name on his lips. He chokes on it though, as white hot, piercing pain steals his breath. He looks down, sees the white bandage Judd's pressing to his abdomen. "-easy. Easy, brother, you're hurt." Yeah, no shit. Judd snorts as he helps him lay back down, and Carlos realizes he said it out loud. Carlos looks up at the sky, tries to ignore the pain as Judd does as best as he can stitchig the stab wound in his side. He closes his eyes and TK's face, tight with pain and fear- brows furrowed, eyes wide, mouth open in a silent scream. He opens his eyes, stares at the sky. He keeps his eyes open, doesn't so much as blink this time. . Judd says he should rest. Carlos scoffs and struggles up to his feet. Judd's there, hands hovering at his side to support him if he needs it. "I'm going after him, Judd. With or without you." Judd stares at him. "You're hurt, man. Can barely stand on your own. How do you plan on gettin' him out of wherever they took him?" He shakes his head. "I'll figure it out. I just have to find him first." "Carlos-" "Judd, stop," he snaps. What if it was Grace? he wants to ask but bites his tongue to keep the words in. It's not- he shouldn't compare a ten year relationship to whatever he had with TK for- what? Two days? Maybe even less than that. He shouldn't. It doesn't to have feelings for someone he met less than two days ago. And yet- Carlos exhales, his chest heaves and he sways, dangerously close to collapsing. He would have fallen in a heap on the concrete if Judd didn't catch him, one hand at his elbow and the other on his waist, steadying him. And yet, he thinks, ever since he woke up, it's felt like a part of him is missing, like whoever has taken TK has taken a part of Carlos' heart with them. Judd stares at him, as if he's a puzzle he thinks he can solve and Carlos looks away, jaw clenched. "Okay," Judd says eventually, "let's go find your man." "He's not my-" he attempts to protest weakly, but Judd's not really listening anymore, collecting their supplies off the street and throwing them in the trunk. Judd helps him into the passanger seat, then moves around to the driver's seat. They share a look, full of understanding, and Carlos breathes out. "We're gonna find him." Carlos nods. . They're on the road for about half an hour when it occurs to him to ask Judd how he knows where to go. Judd's hands tighten around the steering wheel. It takes him a minute to answer. "Judd?" "We have a tracker on him." His heart sinks. "And on me. That's how you knew where to find me."

Tagging: @chaotictarlos @tkstrrand @alrightbuckaroo @lambourngb @honestlydarkprincess @sapphire11 @rangergurlgleek1211 @itshoneywhatever

#ejtaggames #tarlos fic #tarlos #ejwritestarlos #ejswip

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kirby-the-gorb · 2 years ago

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reply roundup!

we’re gonna try a new less structured/more casual format. (and then immediately forget about it for a month cuz a hundred other things needed my extremely limited energy...........)

I did read a lot of the tags and stuff and I still love getting to see them all! but I can only write and format so much these days :’(

on [the last roundup] @northeasternwind said: SJHDFKSDHFKJSDH THERE IT IS!!! YOU DID IT!!! YOU'RE FIVE STEPS AHEAD

lol I gotchu

on [wallpaper] @ceylonsilvergirl said: this is how I need to be living my life instead of whatever insanity is happening in reality. can things just be chill for 30 seconds!? I’m tryna sit down on this beanbag chair!!

right??? honestly it’s been A Fuckin Year dude, at least we can commiserate together lol

@softnoobgirl asked: April is atusim awareness/acceptance month and it can be really hard for atustic people because of all the atusim speaks and light it up blue stuff that basically tells us "ya we want you dead." As an atustic kirby fan it would make me super happy if you would draw kirby holding up a sigh with a blue puzzle peice crossed out and text that says "don't light it up blue, go red instead.

The world blue being in blue and the world red being in red. It would mean the world to me to see you support atustic people and not the organizations against us.

I think that would be a neat idea! (I’m actually autistic myself as well, so I’m like. totally with you on this. that does not guarantee I will remember come april, but I can at least tell you with confidence that it’s a good idea! it is totally okay to remind me of your idea with another ask in late march or april if you would like to.)

@autistic-sack-of-friends asked: the Kirby. it's gorby :> good job on the gorb!!!

thank you!!

@a-pansexual-she-them asked: Eats your art/pos

:0 omg thanks!

on [surprise nap] @ceylonsilvergirl said: If your body made you nap that means you needed a nap. Sorry to hear about the wonky sleep schedule tonight tho

lol I promise you falling asleep for an hour does not at all affect how likely I am to fall asleep again later. unfortunately.

@pourpresky asked: i’ve told you this before but i don’t know if you got my previous asks. i love this acc so much i love your drawings a lot. it brings me happiness it gives me serotonin i hope that you’re doing well everyday

aww thank you! I do remember you sending me a nice ask like this at least once before, although maybe my reply got lost in the clutter of the roundups >n< (not that this is any less cluttered...)

on [lights] @ceylonsilvergirl said: this is Christmas, but it’s also disco. and Kirby realizing he entered a skating rink. or a karaoke bar. yesterday someone asked me if Kirby was a girl or a boy, and I just had to be like “does it matter? will it change anything?’’ asker was a teenage boy so I don’t think he quite got it, but hopefully he’ll think about it

sometimes the most significant thing we can do is just plant an idea and give it time to grow. and kirby would be delighted to go to a rollerskating rink. do you think he’s really graceful or taking full advantage of his squishy marshmallow frame to pad his falls lol (also re: [wrapping paper opinions], I don’t really do a lot of birthday gifts or anything anyway but someday when we have space I want a few different rolls of solid color kraft paper so I can hand-design new paper every year because I am Craft Feral)

on [wrists] @northeasternwind said: I feel like you don't need this advice but please do the stretchies. be like Kirby's very stretchy body

my connective tissue is all fucked so my joints don’t really work the way they’re supposed to lol but as soon as I stopped working every waking hour my wrist stopped hurting overnight like, instantly, so *thumbs up* (thank you for your concern tho <3 )

on [struggle] @macro-microcosm said: good job making it through the year! happy you're still here. I hope things get better.

I was like, kinda surprised by how touched I was when I first saw this one. thanks for that.

I also think it’s so cute how every time I post a sleeping kirby so many people reblog it with some variation of either “me” or “god I wish that was me”

on [triumph] @chaosinanutshell said: YA KIRBO!!! Im almost done with all my assessments this week. then this thursday Im finally gonna have a break. IM ALMOST THERE!! Good job with all u did :DD

I took so long to write this that you already made it by now! I hope you get to do so many fun restorative things with your break! (I am reading lots of manga, which is restorative for me -u- )

on [love] @ceylonsilvergirl said: there are those times when you feel love so profoundly that it completely knocks you over. it’s really what’s keeping me going lately. I’m not getting paid, I’m working my ass off, but then someone says “I see you. I appreciate you. you’re doing a good job’’

honestly support is in all the little things. big gestures are great and all but they aren’t what keeps things going, it’s stuff like acknowledging the hard work you’ve done or making sure the hand soap is always full. Love Is Stored In The Small Everyday Kindness.

#reply roundup #text #title text #swearing #caps #northeasternwind #ceylonsilvergirl #asks answered #softnoobgirl #autistic-sack-of-friends #a-pansexual-she-them #pourpresky #macro-microcosm #chaosinanutshell #long post #readmore #ableism

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atsixesandcevans · 5 years ago

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my only wish (this year)

Summary: The world is different after the events of the snap, and that causes both you and Steve to make major changes in your respective lives, unknowingly pushing yourselves towards each other.

Both unlucky in love, and both longing for something fundamentally missing in your lives, what happens when you – quite literally – crash land into each others’ lives?

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: this was written for @capcountdownchristmas‘s challenge with the prompt of the song My Only Wish (This Year) by Britney Spears, though it ended up being only loosely based on that hahaha!

set post-endgame, except everyone’s alive and nobody’s sad :)

this will be a small series, I’m not sure how many parts there’ll be or when they’ll be posted but they are in the works, so please feel free to send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in this or any other of my works :)

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

November 2023

The disappearances – people had started calling it the snap, though you weren’t entirely sure why – had changed you. Changed everyone, really, in one way or the other. Every single person in the world either lost someone to the whims of the mad titan, or had been lost themselves.

You had been walking through Central Park when the screaming started. Panicked shouts of names, people disintegrating before your eyes. Your confusion morphed into dizziness, stumbling on your feet a little as you slowed to a stop. A gasp was caught in your throat as you looked down at your body that was half-gone already, fear swelling in your chest before everything went black.

When you woke up what felt like five minutes later, you were still in the park, but it felt… different, somehow. The sky seemed darker, the trees less vibrant. All around you, people were on the ground, matching confused expressions as they sat up, passers by rushing to help people up. Someone came and held your hand, pulling you to your feet, and you stuttered out a strained “what happened?”

The stranger’s confused but hopeful eyes scanned you for injuries, while they replied, “you’re not gonna believe me.”

Five years. They told you it had been five years since Thanos – whatever the hell that was – wiped out half the planet. You found it near impossible to fathom that half a decade had passed without you – without 50 percent of the world’s population.

Just like the rest of the world, you went on with your life as usual. At least, you tried to. You really did try, but each time you got up and went to the boring office job you hated, making the same small talk with co-workers you didn’t care to be friends with, every time you came home to your drab, empty apartment, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was fundamentally missing.

It seemed that the snap had put things in perspective for a lot of people; walking home at the end of the day, surrounded by couples holding hands, going on dates. Even your friends were in love; two of them had had a romantic epiphany in the midst of the grief surrounding the snap, and had been in a happy relationship ever since. You were happy for them, of course, but you couldn’t help the surge of jealousy that you felt whenever you saw them kiss or be romantic around you. You longed for what they had; someone for you to love, who loved you in return. Another person to share your little corner of the world with, someone to celebrate the highs and commiserate the lows of life with. You yearned for it, and held out hope that you’d have that someday, and yet every year that went by, every birthday, every Christmas spent alone made that hope dwindle further and further.

You were stood in front of the coffee machine in the break room at work a month or so after the snap was fixed when you had what you could only describe as a moment of clarity. It dawned on you that the only way your life was going to change was if you changed it yourself. It was then that you decided that you would live your life the way you wanted to, no exceptions.

So, the next morning, you handed your two-weeks’ notice to your boss, and started looking for a house in Brooklyn, where you grew up.

Luck was on your side, it seemed, because you quickly found a small, reasonably priced (for Brooklyn) brownstone house in the Clinton Hill neighbourhood. After a viewing, you used your savings to buy the place, and within a month you were all moved in, with a part-time job lined up at a nearby art gallery to keep on top of your finances while you pursue your passion for art.

You still felt the absence of deep human connection, but you could only hope that the changes you had made would only bring more good things your way.

Steve had been staying upstate in Tony’s house since the defeat of Thanos and he had returned the stones to their rightful places in their respective timelines. Upon his return, Steve passed his shield on to Sam, who he knew would do a great job in the role of Captain America, officially hanging up his suit and finally allowing himself to just exist, without the responsibility that being in the Avengers had brought.

For two months, Steve had been helping Tony with the rebuild of the compound, as well as figuring out what role everyone would play in the new Avengers. It was quickly decided that Tony, like Steve, would be retiring, to spend time with his family and watch Morgan grow up. Bucky and Sam would lead the team, with Wanda and Peter working alongside them to tackle the evils of the world. Natasha decided to finally put aside the Black Widow title, though she would remain at the compound as an agent, leading the training of the new recruits for both S.H.I.E.L.D and the Avengers, as well as acting as a kind of logistics support for missions. And Bruce would continue as he always did; conducting experiments and continuing to use science and technology to make the world a better place.

With everyone settling into their roles, Steve found himself feeling almost restless. He had agreed to remain a semi-active member of the team, offering advice and support to the active members, but ultimately decided that he would move back into his house in Brooklyn and rediscover who Steve Rogers was outside of the Captain America image.

And so, he made the move back to Brooklyn, with the minimal belongings he had with him upstate stashed in a duffel bag, and the motorcycle that was almost an exact replica of his old one that Tony somehow had hidden away at the back of his garage. He had handed him the keys with a shrug and a non-committal “let’s just call it a little retirement present, from me to you.” Steve still often found himself baffled by his friend, but he couldn’t deny the genuine affection that had developed between them over the years.

As Steve re-entered the city, he was reminded of just how much he loved living here; sure, it could be loud and dirty and crowded at times, and there were definitely too many hipster coffee shops around… but it was home. Despite the changes that had inevitably happened in the 80 years or so since he grew up there, there was still the same feel to the place, the old brownstone buildings lining the streets reminding him of the apartment where he lived with his mother, the kids that often played in the streets reminding him of all the times he was ill and wishing that he could be out there with them. His memories of this place were good and bad, sure, but for the first time in a while he found himself thankful for the body given to him by the serum; he finally had the physical wellness and the free time to able to go out and enjoy his city in a way he never had been before.

Steve walked with his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he made the walk from where he parked his bike to his front door. There were more cars about now than there were last time he was here, so he ended up having to park almost half a block away. As he passed the house next to his, he noticed that the small garden that was overgrown and messy was now neat and tidy, and there were potted plants on the stoop, as well as heavy curtains that replaced the tattered blinds that once covered the windows.

He was so preoccupied looking at the clearly now inhabited house and wondering who it was who had finally bought the place, that he didn’t notice you coming from the other direction, eyes glued to your phone screen as you read through an email from your boss.

The two of you collided, and Steve tripped on uneven ground, sending him falling backwards, landing on his back. In your attempt to remain on your feet, you ended up tripping over the same bit of ground, and landed on what you could feel was an incredibly defined chest, both of you releasing a soft grunt at the impact. Glancing up towards his face, ready to apologise, you were taken aback and your words caught in your throat at the sight of easily the most beautiful man you had ever seen; strong features, soft beard spread across what you could tell was an angular jaw, and long lashes framing eyes the prettiest shade of periwinkle blue.

You suddenly became very aware of how close your face was to his, and immediately felt a blush creep onto your face as you hastily moved to push yourself up and off him, rattling off a litany of oh god I’m so sorry and I wasn’t looking where I was going. The stranger smiled almost shyly at you, cheeks tinted pink, probably from the cold evening air, as he shook his head and got back on his feet, insisting “please, it’s my fault entirely, I should have been paying more attention. Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You couldn’t help the way your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness; he was the one who had landed flat on his back with a whole other person on top of him, and he was asking you if you were okay?

Realising that he was still waiting for an answer, you cleared your throat before replying with a chuckle, “apart from a couple bruises to my dignity, I think I’m okay.”

His laugh shook his whole body, his face scrunching up in the most adorable way, and an inexplicable warmth spread through your chest at the sound, finding yourself desperate to hear it again.

You bit your lip to suppress a grin as he held out his hand in greeting. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

Taking hold of his hand, you noticed just how warm it was, despite being bare in the cold winter air, and introduced yourself, adding “I promise I don’t make a habit out of literally running into strangers outside my house.”

Steve cocked his head to one side, confusion across his face. “Your house?”

“Yeah, I live just there,” you said, pointing to the house he had just passed – the one that he was busy thinking about when he bumped into you.

A wave of understanding crossed his face before he let out a surprised laugh, nodding to the house next door, the one you had been passing not five minutes earlier. “I live next door.”

It was your turn to be confused. “You do? I’ve never seen anyone go in or out of that house in the two weeks I’ve been living here.”

Steve chuckled wryly. “Yeah, I’ve had some… business to deal with upstate, so I was gone for a few months.” He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t completely open about being an Avenger – or, ex-Avenger, now – but subconsciously, a part of him wanted to live as Steve Rogers from Brooklyn, instead of the persona he had been presented as for many years… and that same part of him wanted you to know him only as that version of him.

You nodded, though the expression on your face told him you were unconvinced by his bending of the truth. The two of you stood in silence for several moments, looking at each other with soft smiles on your faces, until you finally broke the silence. “Well, I um… I should probably head inside, it’s getting late.”

Steve nodded, though he couldn’t help the inkling of disappointment he felt. You both shared a soft goodnight with a smile before you moved past him and through the wrought-iron gate leading up to your door. It was as you were unlocking the door that you heard him call your name and you turned towards where he stood at the bottom of his own stoop steps. “Yeah, Steve?”

He looked oddly nervous, a shy smile on his lips as he fiddled with his keys, an almost imperceptible pink tinge to his cheeks. “I don’t suppose you’d want to grab a coffee with me sometime, would you? I’d love to make it up to you for knocking you over, and it’d be nice to get to know my new neighbour a little.”

His voice was hopeful, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “Sure, I’d love to. But there’s really nothing to make up for, I was the one who knocked into you.”

Steve smiled wide, though he shook his head a little, getting the feeling that he wouldn’t win the fight with you about who bumped into who. “How does 11 o’clock Friday sound?”

You mentally checked your availability before grinning brightly at him. “Sounds perfect.”

#captain America countdown to christmas #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers/reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfic #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers/you #christmas #fluff #beth writes

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maedarakat · 5 years ago

Photo

Storms

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“What is that?”

Normally Dagur never interrupted Boynut when he told one of his humorous anecdotes. Hiccup’s friend could be rambling and nonsensical at times, but he liked the rider’s voice.

He’d made an exception this time however, pointing at the strip of skin across his stomach that Tuff’s shirt was showing. He’d stretched his arms out wide, trying to convey just how big around the boar in his story had been.

Tuff stopped mid-sentence, realizing, and hurriedly dropped his arms, adjusting the shirt so it covered him. He wasn’t wearing his usual tunic and belt today, just a loose blue shirt and his leggings.

The Twins and Fishlegs had been assembling their winter gear from Berk and had returned to the Edge just an hour ago, far later than they were due to arrive.

Their arrival had been oddly tense and weird - Fishlegs had immediately apologized for their lateness before Astrid could demand what happened, saying that he’d been stuck choosing which books and how much ink and parchment to take. Ruff had been the very image of calm before a storm, hand on her brother’s arm, and Tuff had simply looked exhausted.

He was more animated now, with some food and warm mead inside him, and to all appearances it had just been the long ride that explained his earlier solemn mood. However, the glimpse of skin Dagur had just seen was dark and mottled. Something was wrong.

“What? Is it the color?” Tuff asked, redirecting. “I know, it doesn’t look as good on me as green. My tunic got covered with dragon slobber.”

It was a lie. The others did not appear to pick up on it, giving sympathetic groans. Snotlout commiserated by bringing up how badly Monstrous Nightmare drool stained in comparison to the drool of other dragons.

“Guys, come on, it’s not a competition,” Hiccup sighed.

“Shut up, Hiccup,” the others retorted amiably in unison. Hiccup grumbled but leaned back in his chair, scratching Toothless under the chin.

Fishlegs countered by reminding everyone that Gronckle saliva actually burned holes in things, and as things started to heat up in the dragon slobber fandom, Dagur caught sight of Tuff slinking back toward the kitchen area of the Clubhouse.

He excused himself after a moment and went into the kitchen, casually getting himself a mug to pour mead out of a barrel. Tuff wasn’t making himself any food or drink, just lurking in a dark corner. He startled when he saw Dagur but held still and said nothing, clearly hoping he went unnoticed.

It was a far cry from how friendly the boy usually acted, enough that Dagur set down his mead without drinking any and turned to face him. “You okay, Tuff?”

Tuff looked like he was ready to jump out of his skin. “I’m fine,” he almost snapped, arms crossed over his chest. “Everything is fine.”

It was clearly not.

When Dagur reached out to put a calming hand on his shoulder he flinched.

Tuff didn’t ever flinch from contact - not even from him.

Shocked, Dagur didn’t take back his hand, instead pulling him close into a worried bear hug, though gentler than the breath stealing squeezes he often inflicted on his ‘little brother’. Tuff froze tensely but didn’t jerk away or protest.

“What’s wrong?” Dagur asked firmly.

“Nothing,” came the muffled reply, though Tuff was starting to tremble. Eventually he leaned in, hiding his face against Dagur’s shoulder and returning the embrace.

“There he is,” Dagur teased gently, feeling some relief. “Where’d you go, Boynut?”

“Sorry,” Tuff sniffled. “Not trying to be a jerk, I just - I got in a bad fight. At home.”

He hadn’t been a jerk, but Dagur’s main concern was what he’d said after that. He let Tuff go, allowing him to pull back if he wanted. Tuff did, though he stayed close. “At home? Someone from home hurt you?”

Tuffnut faltered, then walked it back, sounding frantic. “I didn’t say I was hurt. It was just a bad fight. Dad said some words and Ruff stood up for me, then he said something about her and I threw a mug at him. Hard.”

Dagur remembered the red and darkening purples he’d seen across the boy’s stomach. “So you hit him with a mug and he whaled on you?”

“No. I missed him completely and it shattered. But it was his favorite mug that grandma got him.” Tuff sounded both proud and horrified at his transgression. Dagur put his hands on Tuff’s shoulders gently. He winced but this time leaned toward Dagur instead of flinching.

“What happened after the mug broke?”

Tuff bit his lip, going pale. “He got up.”

It was all Tuff could seem to say and perhaps all he needed to.

Dagur put an arm around his shoulders. “Okay. So when you guys visit Berk again for a holiday, could I come with you? I’ve been thinking, I’ve never met everyone’s parents. Next time I think I’ll tag along to your home and meet the Thorstons.”

Tuff looked up at him, considering that. “Well, our mom would like you. She said we actually have some Berserker blood in our family. She didn’t tell me who though.”

“Really? I’m not surprised, you two definitely have some Berserker traits. Your insane bravery for one. And your amazing traps, remember when you booby trapped the whole island after we kidnapped Ruff?”

A fond grin appeared on Tuff’s face. “I do. You talk about it a lot, especially when you’ve been drinking. I think one time you may have cried.”

Dagur burst into embarrassed laughter. “Right. That was a lot of mead.” He pulled Tuff a bit closer. “Not gonna lie, I’m glad I’m on your side now, so I don’t have your destructive genius aimed at me.”

“What makes you think you’re safe from that?” Tuff snickered but he was grinning as he said it and finally relaxed. He leaned into Dagur, shoulder and side pressing against his. “So I’m taking you home to meet my parents next month when the storms let up? Is that what we’re doing?” Tuff’s tone was playfully sultry.

“Yep,” Dagur said, face turning a bit red but going with it. “Gotta let them know my intentions toward their son.”

That sent Tuff into a blushing fit but he soldiered on. “You’re going to ask Papa for my hand?”

“And he’s going to say yes and offer to pay for the wedding, right before he passes out in my Berserker chokehold,” Dagur said matter-of-factly, and Tuff wheezed, covering his face and almost beet red.

“Okay,” he managed to squeak through his fingers. “Awesome.”

He was comfortably leaning against Dagur, who took the opportunity to wrap an arm around him again. Tuff relaxed, taking his hands away from his face and allowing the touch without further comment.

For a few moments neither of them spoke, realizing their exchange might have a little more weight to it than either of them had given thought to.

“They say arnica’s good for bruises,” Dagur suggested finally. “I’ve got some salve in my bags - I use it on Shattermaster’s wing every morning. He’s been recovering quickly. You want some?”

Tuff nodded, uncharacteristically quiet and still blushing.

Dagur released him from the embrace and led him to Fishy’s hut where he was staying for the storm period. Tuffnut remained at his side the whole way there, close enough to almost trip him, like a puppy underfoot. It was adorable.

Once inside, he picked up his bag, rummaging around for the tin of salve and hoping he didn’t leave it all the way back at the stable. He heard Tuff sit down on the pallet of blankets and furs that Fishlegs had laid out for his Berserker guest.

“Is he taking good care of you? Fishlegs?”

“Yeah, he’s a good host. We’re morning meditation buddies, and he makes some really good herbal tea. Very cleansing.” His hand found the right shape and he pulled the salve out triumphantly, tossing the rucksack back into the corner.

Tuff had laid down across the pallet, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling, his legs crossed. “Okay. Well, if he wasn’t a good host, I was going to tell you he keeps all the snacks his mom sends him in the upper left cabinet behind some books.”

Dagur snorted, amused he’d just told him anyway. He sat down on the bed, opening the tin. “I can help you put some on if you’d like me to.”

The blond rider looked at him a moment and then nodded, sitting up to take off his shirt. Dagur at once realized the reason why he had worn the shirt loose without a belt - this wasn’t just a few bruises. Wide swaths of dark red and purple wrapped around his ribs and shoulders. His back was the biggest mess of stripes, and Dagur could see older scars - from past ‘fights’ - faded beneath. Dagur swallowed.

“What did he use on you?” he asked neutrally, scooping some salve out and sitting behind Tuff to spread it across the inflamed skin. Inside him something was boiling over with dark rage but he kept his voice and his movements calm for Tuff’s sake.

“The strap for his shaving razor,” Tuff muttered. “He got the drop on me so it was easier to just hold still. If I lay still it’s over faster.” He furrowed his brow, looking angry at himself for saying that aloud. “Sorry -“

“It’s okay.”

“I sound pathetic,” Tuff argued.

“You do not. Getting hurt by family is way worse than getting hurt by strangers, because it’s not supposed to happen.” Dagur moved his hair aside, draping it forward over his shoulders so he could get the hand-sized bruise on the back of his neck. He rubbed the salve gently across it, listening carefully to make sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“Everyone gets punished by their dad once in a while,” Tuff dismissed. “I’m a trouble-maker, I get extra.”

That sentiment bothered him. Tuff shouldn’t be accepting this sort of treatment, no matter what he’d done. “I made a lot of trouble. Would it have been okay if my dad had beaten the crap out of me?” Dagur asked pointedly.

Tuff’s shoulders stiffened under his hand. “No! It wouldn’t ...” Stricken, he looked anxiously back at him over his shoulder. “Oswald didn’t ever, did he?”

“No. He didn’t,” Dagur answered quietly. “He would talk to me and make me understand what I did wrong, and I would either feel ashamed or I wouldn’t. But he never beat me.”

The worst thing Oswald had ever done was disappear, but that was a different kind hurt. He hadn’t meant to never come back, hadn’t meant for Dagur to feel like an unlovable monster whose own father didn’t want to be near him anymore.

Tuff’s dad though? That man had definitely meant to hurt him.

And judging by the blond’s sagging shoulders and look of quiet devastation, he was starting to accept that it wasn’t normal.

Dagur spread the salve everywhere he saw discoloration, then coaxed Tuff to turn around so he could get his chest and arms. He said nothing about the tear tracks on the rider’s cheeks, but they made him want to pay Berk a little visit before the storms landed and unleash some thunder and lightning of his own.

Tuff leaned into his touch as Dagur‘s fingers traced over his skin. One hand went up to move his hair again, intending to drape his braids across his back so he could get to his collarbone but it got lost and cupped his face instead.

Hitching, Tuff nuzzled his palm and kissed it and that was honestly all he needed.

Dagur capped the salve and tossed it aside on the bed, gathering Tuff against him and kissing him firmly.

The trickster kissed back enthusiastically, his long limbs wrapping around him tightly. When they came up for air, Tuff clung to him still, nuzzling his throat. He was shaking. Murmuring in concern, Dagur hugged him closer.

“You aren’t going to have to face him alone again,” he promised, kissing Tuff’s forehead. “Neither you or Ruff.” He kissed along the bridge of Tuff’s nose, caressing his face. “I’ll put the terror of Dagur into him.”

Tuff melted against him, grey eyes soft. “You don’t have to, you know. He’s got lots of mugs. Maybe one of these days, I’ll actually nail him with one.”

“Tuff,” Dagur sighed with exasperated affection. He cupped the rider’s face and kissed him. Later would be a talk about thinking better of himself.

For now, they were in his bed and together, while outside the storm-winds began to howl.

#httydrarepairbingo #tuffnut #dagur #tuffgur #rated pg #tw mentions of abuse

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

Text

FIC: Bedside Stories ch.5 (baon)

Summary: The exciting conclusion! After that last cliffhanger, I am sure this will make everything all better.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Domestic, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, hints of Kustard

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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Stretch was not a fighter and never pretended to be. Didn’t mean that he didn’t know how and yeah, he was years out of practice, but he knew how to form an attack the same way he knew how to heal. He could send a wave of sharpened bones out dripping with intent and he could press his magic inward to dull pain or to urge bones to knit, skin to scab over. He knew it all and once upon a time, he’d done what was necessary, carried that ugliness in his soul. He’d do it again to protect the people he cared about and maybe he’d failed at that before, too many times to count.

He wasn’t about to fail again. He was braced for anything when he shortcutted into the kitchen to chase after Edge’s cry, one socket burning hot with focus, hands spread, magic arcing from his fingertips.

He was not braced for this.

In the brief time since he’d gotten plates for the dinner, their kitchen had gone from a tidy showroom to a war zone. The loud crash he’d heard must’ve come from their kitchen table. Solid oak, handcrafted, and currently broken into two pieces, with Edge kneeling between the splintered segments, cradling his brother in his arms. Red, yeah, red was a good word for it, his name and his description, all the fucking little nightmares, so much red, everywhere. Splotches and puddles of deep crimson on the floor, smears of it on Red and Edge’s clothes, blotched on their faces. Edge’s gloves left behind bright fingerprints as he gripped his brother, his hands searching over him frantically.

Red was hanging limp in his arms, his skull lolling back, his sockets empty and Edge was losing it, shit, shaking so hard his bones were rattling like castanets, his eye lights shrunken to pinpricks as his skull jerked in Stretch’s direction.

“Help him, please,” Edge said, feverishly, “I can’t...please, you have to--” He wasn’t trying to heal Red, his hands moving purposelessly. Stretch didn’t know what Edge was doing other than straight-up panicking and that itself was enough to freeze his soul, Edge never panicked, he never.

In his arms, Red looked too small and frail in a way he never should. Stretch was used to Red being larger than life, his height was no measure of his actual size; he could fill a room by only standing around chomping on one of those foul cigars of his. Red was always grinning, always like he was two steps in any direction from fucking some shit up. He wasn’t supposed to be so terribly hurt, drained of magic to the point that his bones were dull and pale. He wasn’t.

Stretch let his hands fall, his magic stalling. This was all so wrong, too wrong, Edge’s control as broken as their table and Red limp and fragile; it was like his shortcut had bypassed their kitchen and hurled Stretch directly into opposite world.

(he’d already done that once, didn’t need to give it a take two.)

Okay, fuck, obviously one of them had to be the calm one and it looked like it was his turn. He took a deep, shuddering breath and started picking his way through the splintered wood and overturned chairs. Stretch managed to get closer, shoving aside the sodden napkins and the remnants of their saltshaker, struggling to ignore the cold, wet redness seeping through his socks and pants as he knelt down next to them.

Except…what the fuck was this. Stretch touched it, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. It was weirdly oily, so it wasn’t marrow or blood, and it smelled horribly pungent, strong enough to make his sockets water. A Check showed Red scraped off a couple HP points but that could’ve been from his head dive through the table, he wasn’t bleeding out, what--

Then it clicked. Paint, he realized, all this wet redness was paint. Red was obviously hurt and unconscious, he wasn’t in a good way, but he wasn’t bleeding out on their kitchen floor, either, and whatever reasons he’d had shortcut into their kitchen with the elephant-sized equivalent of a paintball didn’t matter. Relief was dizzying, leaving him lightheaded, but Edge still hadn’t gotten the memo, gripping Red so tightly that the sharpened tips of his fingers were starting to push through his gloves.

“edge, hey, EDGE!” Edge’s head jerked up, his unsteady gaze meeting Stretch’s, “it’s not from him, it’s paint. check him, come on. he’s hurt but he’ll be okay.” Might be a lie, but Stretch didn’t think so, Red was banged up but not anywhere close to dusting.

But he was pretty sure that literally none of that got through the wall of panic Edge had up. His husband only looked at him wildly, his eye lights on the verge of guttering as he rasped out, “Please help him. Please.”

Okay, fuck this shit, he wasn’t going to sit here trying to get in touch with Edge’s reasonable side while he was kneeling in the remains of their kitchen begged Stretch to save his brother’s life, even if Red wasn’t in actual danger. He reached out, urging Edge to set Red down so he could shove a little healing into him.

That took a minute right there. Edge was bye bye, his control over the past couple days already on thin ice. He didn’t want to let go and it took some coaxing for him to lay Red down, shoving aside soggy napkins and wood splinters to make room.

Red was like a string-cut puppet, his boot heels squeaking against the linoleum as Stretch dragged him in closer.

“keep back,” Stretch warned, and once he was sure Edge wasn’t going to latch on again, he settled his hands on Red’s crimson-soaked jacket. Wouldn’t do anyone much good if the healing magic arced to Edge instead. Stretch closed his sockets, reaching inward to draw on his magic.

He didn’t really remember learning how to heal. It was so long ago, back when Blue was a baby, maybe before he even existed. Getting ready for a war that... someone...thought might be coming. He’d never been great at it; he had the raw power but couldn’t always direct it as finely as Blue could.

Luckily, Red could use a little raw power. It probably wouldn’t be comfortable, but eh, knowing Red, he probably deserved a good jolt up the ass. Probably deserved that much just for what he’d done to their kitchen and, yeah, tone down the dark humor and get to work.

Green magic surged within him, channeled from his soul and down his arms to his hands, sinking into Red. Beneath his palms he felt Red jerk, garbling out a hoarse cry. Having healing thrust directly into your soul hurt. Not a normal pain, more like the jolt of an electric shock, filling you up to the brim with lightning and it hurt as it helped. It wasn’t exactly comfortable for Stretch, either, his body playing conduit between their two souls.

Stretch channeled it for as long as he could, feeling as it branched off, spidering over Red’s body to seek out injury. Cracked bone, check, overextended magic, yep, the burnt dregs of shielding left over from taking an attack, what the fuck had Red been doing, but the injuries couldn’t tell Stretch that. He kept it going until his own soul ached from the strain and finally, he had to let go, falling back on his heels and panting.

He swiped a hand over his skull and came away with a handful of warm sweat, stared wearily at the muddy mingling of orange and red in his palm. Ugh, he was gonna be paying for that tomorrow.

Edge wasn’t looking at him; he was watching his brother closely, holding a Check, probably. The faint hope on his face cracked as Red didn’t stir, slowly fading.

“edge,” Stretch croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Yeah, might’ve overdone it a little, “listen to me. he’s okay. give him a minute.”

“listen to the honey bun.” If Stretch sounded awful, Red sounded half-dead, his voice as hoarse as if he’d used broken glass as a replacement for Listerine that morning. From the very first word, Edge scooped Red back into his arms, and he didn’t open his sockets, only groaned out, “i’m fine, you rotten little shit, now leggo.”

That didn’t penetrate any better than before, Edge ignoring all Red’s snarling and squirms as he held him. Eventually, Red gave up, going sullenly limp in his brother’s arms, not even fighting as Edge buried his face into the front of his stained t-shirt.

Edge was muttering, whispering, strained words that Stretch could barely hear and when he did, his soul throbbed, a deep, commiserating ache, “Sorry, I’m so sorry, brother, I failed you.”

“the fuck you goin’ on about,” Red grumbled, and Stretch would’ve cheerfully beat the shit out of him if he wouldn’t have had to heal any damage he did.

“I failed you,” Edge said again, muffled into Red’s ruined jacket. A protest rose in Stretch’s throat as Red slapped Edge weakly on the back of the skull, sharp fingertips leaving a trail of faint scratches that bled pink. That made Edge wince and he lifted his head. There were no tears, but his sockets were limned with luminescence.

“don’t you dare,” Red growled. He reached up, fingers closing around Edge’s throat to tug him in closer. “don’t you dare look me in the face after bringing our people home safe and try’n tell me you failed. don’t you fuckin’ dare!”

Edge swallowed, hard, shifting Red’s grip on his cervical vertebrae. “But—"

“no!” Red snarled. “i don’t even want to hear that bullshit. you did good, kid.” Red sighed, his sockets sinking closed again as he sagging down. “i’m the one who fucked up, little brother. tried, but--”

His voice dropped, too low for Stretch to hear and that was fine by him. Stretch was about half step from a quick trip into the void; he shouldn’t be here for this, bearing witness to a private moment between brothers, but it wasn’t like he could take off and have a smoke. The foul taste of his own burnt out magic was thick in the back of his throat; he’d be fine with some food and rest, but he wasn’t gonna be taking any more shortcuts today.

He looked away, instead, trying not to see the way Edge nodded at whatever Red was telling him, stared at the drying paint smears on his own hands when Edge pulled his brother in closely again, sharpened fingertips digging into Red’s jacket as he held on tight.

He would’ve liked to give them all the time in the world, let Edge hug his brother long enough to make up for every time he wasn’t allowed, but Red needed more healing and that was a fact. The longer the injury was there, the harder it was to heal it, and Red didn’t need any new scars cluttering up his collection.

“edge,” Stretch said, tentatively. He jerked and looked at him, and it ached to watch the mental shutters fall over that vulnerability, the way he carefully laid Red back down on the ground. “i’m out of juice, i can’t heal the rest. he needs to go to the hospital.”

“no,” Red shook his head violently, shedding crimson in wet splatters, “no hospital.”

“yes, hospital,” Stretch countered, “look, i’m only a stopgap measure, you need a professional, not a talented amateur.”

“He’s right, brother,” Whatever openness had been on display was locked down now, hidden behind Edge’s normal stoic calm, “We’ll need a cover story.”

Okay, that one went on the list of things he wasn’t expecting to hear. “a…what? for angel’s sake, why?”

“Because even Monsters aren’t immune to gossip,” Edge said, short and sharp, “and Humans work with them at the hospital. If it gets out that Red turned up like this—” He trailed off, but Stretch got the message loud and clear. If Red was out there doing fucked up shit that he wasn’t supposed to be, it wouldn’t take any Instagram sleuths to link him to it if half the hospital saw him right up close. “I can say I was sparring with him and it got out of hand.”

Stretch’s mouth dropped open. Okay, ignoring the new information that Edge’s job sometimes involved cover stories, this one was getting tagged with no fucking way. “what? are you nuts? first of all, i am not letting you get people thinking you could do something like this to your own brother! second, exactly what kind of sparring are they going to buy you were doing, hopalong cassidy?"

Red chuckled weakly, “he’s got you there.”

Edge glanced at his cast almost in surprise, like he’d forgotten it was attached to him. He’d damn well be remembering it tonight after spending so much time kneeling on the kitchen floor. The collection of artwork he’d gotten during his hospital stay was wrecked, spattered in crimson paint. “You have a better plan?”

Damn right Stretch did. “we can say i did it.”

It was a little insulting the way Edge blinked at him and Red laughed even louder, one hand slapping the floor wetly, spattering that paint, what was up with that, anyway, there was so much of it. Edge was clawing back his control for sure because he managed to say with a decent amount of diplomacy, “Love, no one is going to believe that you could do this.”

Stretch narrowed his sockets, letting his eye lights brighten, glowing orange. “wanna bet?”

“wouldn’t work. you both are shitty liars, you know that?”

All three of them jerked, jagged bones instinctively manifesting and pointing the direction of that voice.

Sans didn’t so much as flinch, only stayed where he was leaning against the door jamb leading in from the living room, amicable as ever. “you can save your stories for your next screenplay, i’ll get him taken care of, yeah?”

“You,” Edge said, even as he waved a hand to disperse that attack. It wasn’t anywhere close to a question.

Sans shrugged a little, tucking his hands in his pockets as he stepped into the kitchen proper, nudging table shrapnel aside with the toes of his sneakers. Now that he was closer, Stretch could see that Sans wasn’t all that amicable after all. He looked exhausted, lines of strain tight around his sockets, radiating from the clench of his jaw. “yep. you trust me with him?”

“I do,” Edge said, immediately, and Stretch had a feeling there was a story there that no one had invited him into. That was okay, he didn’t need every scrap of info, except how he damn well did and that was going on his mental list to demand from Edge once things stopped hopping like oil on a hot griddle.

Heh, the way things were going, he’d get to ask about it next year sometime.

Sans only nodded, “okay, then.” He crouched and gathered Red into his arms, grunting at his weight but his grip was gentle. “i’ll take good care of him, edgelord.”

“don’t drop me, you lazy prick,” Red rasped out.

“oh, don’t worry, sweetheart, i won’t be letting you go.” There were layers to that, bitter cake all topped up with a nice serving of testiness. A quick, nearly silent shortcut and they were both gone.

That left him and Edge alone in the kitchen. What was left of it.

Edge was still kneeling on the ground, jaw working as he stared down at his own hands.

“babe?” Stretch began, cautiously. He flinched back as Edge suddenly moved, staggering to his feet, well, foot, finding handholds on the chairs that were still standing and the kitchen island to keep his weight off the casted one. He dragged himself, almost falling at one point, hopping over to the sink.

“baby, please—” Stretch tried again, scrambling up to follow after him, wincing as he stepped on something hard enough to threaten a matching broken foot. He trailed away as Edge tore his gloves off and started scrubbed at his hands. The water was steaming hot, pouring over his bones and Edge scoured the speckles of paint from his hands furiously, viciously, until the water ran clear, and Stretch didn’t have a clue what to say, managed a helpless, “baby, love, he’ll be okay."

“I know that.” Harshly.

Yeah, well, there was knowing and there was knowing, and Edge didn’t seem settled on which one he was going with.

He turned off the water, hands braced on the side of the sink, and he sounded so tired, weary to the depths of his soul as he said, “Love, I know how you feel about…” Edge hesitated, searching for words, “I know how you feel about violence.”

Wait, what?

Was this Edge trying to comfort him somehow after they’d just seen his brother hurt and bleeding? Was he serious with this shit? Okay, time for some damage control.

“red doesn’t have any lv,” Stretch said pointed out. He never had, still didn’t, his Check came up all ones. But then, Stretch knew better than anybody that it didn’t mean someone wasn’t dead.

“He doesn’t,” Edge agreed, low. His spine stiffened, going ramrod straight, and Stretch wondered what Edge was thinking just then. “He’s never needed it. He’s my brother, love, I don’t—"

Stretch interrupted him, softly, “do you think he did what needed to be done?”

“Yes. I do.” No hesitation whatsoever.

Stretch nodded slowly, took a shaky breath, and let it out, “okay, then. it’s all good. we’ll be good.”

Edge looked at him in something like surprise, like he was expecting Stretch to try laying down some law, some kind of ‘not in my house’ bullshit. Yeah, whatever, he’d always known Red got up to some shadiness, and he wasn’t a Judge anymore. Sans was the local guy, let him deal with it. “look, i know a little something about doing the wrong thing for the right reason, okay? and he’s gonna be all right, babe. might have some new decorations, but he’ll be okay, and when he is, we can have him over for chili dogs again, yeah?”

He waited until Edge nodded, slowly, then sighed and gave their kitchen a hard look. Welp, the table was a total loss. One of the chairs was more splinters than seat, and that damn greasy paint was everywhere, starting to dry in tacky maroon streaks. Edge’s carefully maintained kitchen was a complete wreck and it was probably just about killing him.

“don’t worry, babe,” Stretch soothed, even as he wondered how the hell they’d get this in order with Edge out of commission and him about to deal with what was promising to be a killer magic-drain hangover, “we’ll get this all cleaned up and--eep!”

He yelped as Edge caught hold of the front of his sweatshirt and yanked him in. They wobbled together in uncertain balance and rather than falling in a painful heap, Stretch managed to guide them both back down to the floor. The two of them settled together to sit with limbs tangled on the rug in front of the sink. Edge wasn’t exactly helpful, all grabby hands and he was shaking, but not crying, holding on so tightly he was probably gonna leave behind a nice collection of bruises.

Stretch didn’t care, only held on just as tight. He sat there, crooning wordless comfort, letting Edge have whatever he needed. How many times had Edge done this for him? Countless, innumerable, always there when he needed him, all that care waiting for him whenever he needed it, solid as a rock, and maybe Stretch wasn’t granite, but he could give this much.

On a hunch, he let his soul manifest, the diffused light seeping through his sweatshirt. He felt Edge go very still, one hand slowly creeping up to hover over Stretch’s rib cage and that soft light.

“Can I--” Edge began, uncertainly.

“yes.” Whatever he wanted, needed, Edge could have it. It was still difficult to hold still as Edge’s bare hand slipped inside his shirt and up into his rib cage, cupping his soul in a warm palm with excruciating care. Stretch let all his emotions pulse through it, held nothing back, not from Edge; all his fears, his worries, all wound together with soothing care and the great ocean of his love, strong, lapping waves that carried through and came back to him, matched and redoubled through the gentle fingers caging his soul.

Edge shuddered in his arms, his breath warm and damp where his face was buried into Stretch’s shoulder, or maybe that dampness was something else. He was so wounded right now, in so many ways, and Stretch only kissed his skull and held him even closer, letting the sweet purity of his love pulse into Edge through his soul.

They’d get through this, they would. And yeah, maybe Stretch wasn’t the best at healing, especially not the deeper wounds, but he was damn well gonna try.

This was his husband, his love, and he wasn’t letting go.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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arcanesupern0va · 5 years ago

Text

Down With The Rickness; Ch4: Every You, Every Me

Summary: Nova is stressed so Rick tries to make things a little more interesting by taking her to Aeon, a casino outside of time and space.

A/N: Thar be smuts here. And no Halloween chapter because... well this happened instead. I have to thank my beta, my-sun-my-baelish, for all of the help she's given me. It was her idea to bring Flesh Curtains Rick into the story and he will definitely be back. I cannot wait. :D Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think. :D

CW: Smut, drinking, gambling Pairing: Rick Sanchez/Reader Word Count: 8508

My ao3

Masterlist

~Rick In The Water~

|Ch3: Scene Of the Crime|

Things fell back into a comfortable pace when we finally made it home with Rick even sleeping in my room more often than not. The coffee I shared with Beth every morning before she left for work was already awkward enough without Rick stumbling loudly out of my room, much to her chagrin. She insisted she didn’t mind, that she was happy for us, but I could still see the twinges of jealousy in her eyes as she watched her father stumble out of my room in my robe in search of his own cup of coffee.

In an attempt to reconcile with her, I spent most of my days scrolling through job listings. On one particular afternoon, I had taken up my search across from Rick when he was at his workbench. I let out a guttural groan after scrolling through the same thirty listings I’d seen for the past two weeks, earning me a raised eyebrow from the irritable scientist sitting on the other side of the workbench.

“Y-You mind keeping your existential despair down over there?” Rick asked, looking up from whatever he was working on with an unconvincing scowl on his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was my overwhelming stress bothering you?” I asked, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes as I tried to mask the grin forming on my face.

“W-Well, yeah. Yo*uuurp*u mind taking it elsewhere if you’re going to be a nuisance?” he growled, returning to his gadget with a dramatic huff.

“Oh, I’m so terribly sorry,” I smirked, rolling my eyes as I gathered my laptop to stalk off.

“I was gonna go out in a little bit, i-i-if you wanted to come with me,” he offered, spinning around in his chair and looking genuinely surprised I had taken his complaints seriously.

“Wouldn’t want my- what did you call it? Oh- extentistial despair to distract you in anyway,” I sighed, resisting the urge to grin at him again.

“W-Well, I was hoping it would get your mind off of it.”

“Aren’t you just so thoughtful?”

“I-It’s been said... from time to time-”

“Never. I think you mean never.”

“I-I’m sure someone’s had the wrong idea before.”

I sighed, turning away from Rick and walking to the edge of the garage in contemplation. I could choose to stay here and commiserate over why failure seemed inevitable on the job front or I could go out with Rick and just lose myself in an adventure with him. As I weighed between responsibility and fun, my eyes fell onto my old house next door. It filled my heart with a petty glee to see the house falling into minor disrepair as weeds invaded the formly meticulously kept garden and small groups of crab grasses sprouted up across the lawn. Once the police had finally given me access again, Rick, Beth, and I started destroying the cameras that had kept me locked in the house. It was cathartic to say the least but I still hadn’t stepped foot back in since. There were too many memories haunting those walls and I’d sooner tear the place down than go back into it.

“Alright, let’s go,” I sighed, tearing my eyes away before the nightmares could find their way back in. I sat my laptop down for a moment, a low moan leaking out as my legs stretched as a chill ran down my spine at the sheer relief in it. With a yawn, I headed for the door to go change out of my pajamas and into something more suited for adventure.

“D-D-Don’t worry about getting dressed,” Rick stopped me, making one last adjustment to his device before pulling himself out of his chair with a groan and directing me to his ship.

“Rick, seriously?” I asked, gesturing down to my cartoon covered sweatpants, tattered tank top and flip flops. “I’ll be like, two seconds. You telling me you can’t wait?”

“N-No,” he growled, “You don’t have anything to wear that would fit in where we’re going. We’re going to have to stop along the way.”

“Oh,” I gasped softly, following him to the ship. “So, where are you taking me then?”

“Look, will you just take ‘it’s a surprise’ as a sufficient answer so I can have a bit of fun with this?” Rick scowled as I climbed into the ship, eyeing him hesitantly.

“I mean, I suppose I really don’t have much choice otherwise, do I?” I asked him, eyes narrowed at him as a smirk played on my cheeks.

“That’s what I love about you, you always catch on quickly.”

Our first stop was at an off-world intergalactic mall. Rick sent me into a large dress shop, shoving a large wad space cash into my hands and instructing me to “go nuts”. He departed with a kiss on the cheek as he headed into a Blips and Chitz further into the mall, muttering something about unfinished business.

The humanoid eel creature at the counter turned her nose up to me at first, eyeing my shabby attire until she caught sight of the fistful of cash I was carrying. Her demeanor shifted in an instant, ushering me past the clearance rack I had been eyeing to instead show me the latest gowns they’d just received. She ensured me I would be on the cutting edge of whatever charity gala or ball I would be donning the gown to as I flipped nervously past gowns with price tags I couldn’t read.

“I-I don’t know how much this is-” I held out the wad of cash in my hand to her nervously “-I was just kind of sent here and told to ‘go nuts’’.”

She eyed me suspiciously but remained silent as she quickly counted the money, handing it back with a satisfied smile. She started pulling gowns down, holding them in front of me to get an idea of what would look best before leading me to the lavish dressing rooms in the back of the store. Sizing proved to be no issue as the fabric adjusted itself around me, being snug in all the right places and scooping around my breasts in a scandalous way. After a montage worthy amount of changing, we decided on a long, black sleeveless number. It boasted a light train following behind me and a neckline I knew Rick wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off of. She grabbed a pair of heels and a set of jewels for me to wear before pushing a large device over my head, letting it rest on my shoulders. Panic set in as my hair began pulling away from my scalp gently before it was doused and dried my hair quickly and a light spray methodically worked its way over my face. A soft chime rang out and the clerk lifted device with ease, handing me a mirror to take in my appearance. I barely recognized the face staring back at me. My hair fell gently over my shoulders in delicate waves and my makeup was done with skill I’d never possess. The sales clerk led me over to a full length mirror and I was taken aback by my reflection.

I looked so… elegant.

The clerk pointed to the rest of my outfit, sliding my heels and jewelry over to me. The heels were matte black with five inch heels and I stood up nervously in them, I was relieved to discover they were fitted with a balance technology that made walking as easy as if I was barefoot. The jewels hanging from my neck and ears sparkled with purple and blue hues, adding the perfect pop of color to offset the dark gown with the added benefit of accenting my eyes.

“T-Thank you,” I stammered, staring into the mirror to take in the finished product. I handed her back the wad of cash, waving my hand away as she offered me my change as I continued to thank her profusely. I wandered out of the shop in a haze, barely noticing when Rick approached me looking over his shoulder nervously until his eyes fell on me.

“H-Holy shit, Nova,” he gaped, looking me over completely. “You look fucking amazing.”

“I know, right?” I grinned proudly, looking down in amazement at my own cleavage.

“Are you ready then?” he asked with a grin, his eyes struggling to meet mine.

“I guess we’re not going on the usual kind of adventure then?” I trembled, my confidence gone at the reminder of the uncertainty ahead of us.

“You could say that.”

We landed in a large valet, the dinginess of Rick’s ship incredibly apparent next to all of the flashy ships parked around us. A Morty came out to greet us, taking the keys out of Rick’s hand before climbing into the ship and flying off to a garage. My eyes bulged at the sight, turning quickly to Rick with my eyes narrowed.

“Are we back on the fucking Citadel?” I hissed, looking around for the sea of Ricks and Mortys going about their daily lives.

“N-N-No,” Rick assured me quickly. “W-Well, kinda. N-N-Not really. This is a getaway for Ricks. It was built as somewhere to put all the Rickless Mortys and also give Ricks a place to relax when shit gets too serious.”

“So, there’s still going to be a shit ton of Ricks here,” I groaned, walking toward the entrance. The large doors slid open smoothly, allowing me to storm right into a large casino filled with Ricks and Mortys just as I had feared, but also a large variety of other otherworldly creatures. I stopped in my tracks as I looked over the sea of people gambling obscene amounts only to shrug off their losses and slide another tower back out into the circle.

“Welcome to Aeon,” another Morty greeted us. “Do you have a reservation in our hotel for the evening?”

“Y-Yeah,” Rick confirmed, pushing past me gently to handle the Morty in front of us leaving me to continue staring out over the casino floor. A large cluster of Ricks surrounded a craps table, cheering loudly after the shooter let the dice fly out of his hand. Another Rick was ordering a drink from the Morty cocktail server before turning back to a poker table. He looked at his hand, a look of irritation growing on his face as slammed the cards down, tossing a couple chips on top. I didn’t get to see if he’d won as Rick grabbed my hand gently as the Greeter Morty led us to the elevator to show us to the room Rick had reserved for the night.

The room was extravagant, with a full bar directly in front of us as we entered. A Bartender Morty portalled in and Rick ordered himself a drink immediately, allowing me to venture further into the luxurious room. A large four poster bed with delicate fabric draped down sat in the middle of the next room with a large television and sofa at the foot of it. The bed’s linens were quite possibly the softest thing I’d ever touched and I found myself running my hand over the fabric again and again. Rick entered the room behind me, quietly watching as I was mesmerized by a blanket.

“It’s alright, I guess,” he shrugged, setting his empty glass down and pointing to another door in the corner of the room, “You should check out the bathroom. True whirlpool jets, Nova. I’ve gotten lost in those damn things more times than I can count.”

“You’ve been here a lot, I take it?” I asked, breaking my attention from the linens to follow Rick’s suggestion.

“Yeah, this place isn’t called the Aeon for nothing,” Rick explained, “Time literally doesn’t exist here. You could spend ages here and no time passes. It’s outside of the ebb and flow of time.”

“So- Wait, what?” I asked, mouth agape as I turned to face him.

“Don’t think too hard about it, okay?” Rick smirked, “Let’s just put it this way, you could stay fifty years in this place and Madi wouldn’t think you’d been gone longer than an afternoon.”

“B-But, wouldn’t I be ancient by the time I got back?”

“Nope, I’m telling you, no time passes. You won’t age, you won’t gain any weight from any of the food you technically don’t need to eat… The only consequences you face here are with your wallet.”

“That’s… that’s crazy. So you could live here, forever?”

“I-I mean, if you had an infinite amount of money, sure. The fifty years thing was just an exaggeration, this place is not cheap.”

“I can tell,” I grinned, gesturing around to the expensive decor around the room.

“The Flesh Curtains have a show tonight,” Rick remarked, picking up the daily itinerary from the dresser.

“F-Flesh Curtains?” I sighed, biting my lip to resist a laugh.

“So, back in the day, my friends Birdperson and Squanchy formed a band called Flesh Curtains with me. Most Ricks do it but don’t stick with it. These guys are from a timeline that stuck with it and became a success.”

“I hardly consider playing in a casino success,” I said with a snort, glancing over at Rick in disbelief to find him staring at the pamphlet with a glassy look in his eyes.

“Psh,” he said finally, shaking the look away and clearing his throat. “It wouldn’t be so bad, I guess.”

“You wanna go back downstairs? Maybe we’ll go see the show tonight?” I offered softly, moving closer and lacing my hand into his. A devilish grin spread over his face as he pulled the door open.

“You know how to play blackjack, right?”

When we made it back to the floor, Rick made a beeline to the first empty blackjack table he could find. The Ricks around us watched us pass, not taking their eyes off of me until Rick shot them a dangerous look. The Morty at the table greeted us, scooping the cards back up and deftly shuffling them again before loading them back into the shoe and waiting for our buy-ins.

“Player’s cards?” he asked, bored. Rick tossed me a handful of colorful bills before pushing his over to the dealer along with a black card. Morty quickly cut out his chips, calling out the total and waiting for his supervisors approval before sliding two stacks of black and green chips across the table to Rick. He turned to me expectantly, raising an eyebrow when I hesitated.

“How much do I give him?” I whispered to Rick, unable to read the symbols on the money.

“Just give him all of it. Trust me, it’s enough.”

I pushed the money across with a trembling hand, earning a sigh from Morty as he counted it up and slid me my own stack of black and green chips.

“Place your bets.”

“Alright, so all you have to do is play one at a time,” Rick said, pushing the chips closer to me. “You’ll be playing the minimum so if you start doing well, feel free to up your bet.”

“I see we have a special guest tonight,” the floor supervisor Rick remarked as Morty started dealing the cards out. “Not often we see a Nova in-”

“-In here. Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot,” I waved him off, not meeting his gaze. I tried to remember the basic strategy rules for blackjack as Morty checked his own hand for blackjack.

“I-I bet,” Floor Rick stuttered, looking between my Rick and I. Rick ignored him, tapping the table to get another card. Nineteen. He waved it off with a satisfied sigh, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his lab coat. The Floor Rick grabbed an ashtray, sliding in front of Rick before turning his attention back to me.

“Eleven,” Morty said, moving his hand from Rick’s hand to mine.

“Double it,” Floor Rick said with a shrug, “It’s a good hand for doubling. All you need is a ten.” I sighed, sliding another chip up next to my initial bet, wincing as Morty slapped the card down on top of it and quickly went to his own hand. Twenty One.

“Twelve. Sixteen. Bust,” he called out flatly as he played his own hand out, quickly paying us our chips and scooping the cards up before chucking them into the discard rack.

“Nice one, Nova. You two let me know if you need anything,” Floor Rick said with a sly grin, pushing himself away from the table and going to check on another table.

“I seriously hope every fucking Rick in this place isn’t going to be on you like that all night,” Rick groaned as Morty dealt out another hand.

“Well, even if they are, I can handle it,” I assured him.

“I-I-It’s just fucking annoying,” Rick grumbled, watching Morty bust his hand again.

We play for another hour before the Supervisor Rick made his way back over to us, making more uncharacteristically friendly conversation with me before being relieved to go on break. The Relief Floor Rick was also enamoured by my presence but kept it to himself, watching me silently from the adjacent table’s computer system.

“Twenty one,” Morty declared, scooping our bets up and placing them in the rack. Rick groaned in frustration, counting his chips angrily.

“That’s five fucking hands in a row, Nova. This is mathmatically fucking impossible,” he lamented, eyeing the stacks of green in front of me suspiciously. “How in the hell have you been doing so well?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” I shrugged, sliding a stack of five into the circle and looking at his expectantly.

“There’s no such thing as fucking luck,” Rick grumbled under his breath, slamming a chunk of black chips into the circle and looking up at Morty.

“W-Wait, before you deal-” I interrupted, holding my hand up to him and smiling softly. A cocktail Morty had come by, calling Rick’s attention away in search of something strong enough to drown his sorrows in. “Do you guys get tips? Like, as a paycheck or something.”

“Y-Yea. Usually doesn’t amount to much though,” he remarked spitefully, his eyes resting on Rick’s back as he spoke.

“So if I put money up for you, you get it if we win?” I grinned devilishly. He nodded quickly, his eyes lighting up as I slid a chip in front of my bet with a wink. “Let’s make you some money kiddo.”

Morty started dealing the hand out as Rick turned back around, handing me a small glass as he watched the hand come out. Another fifteen for Rick and two sevens for me, with Morty showing a six.

“Split them, Nova,” Rick suggested, waving his hand off before pulling out another cigarette.

“Since when do you smoke?” I asked, wrinkling my nose as I slid more chips out and signaled for the split.

“It’s a casino thing. Something about this place just makes me want a cigarette,” he shrugged. “You’re betting for Morty? Y-Y-Your streaks coming to an end now.”

“Eleven, Au- er -Nova,” Morty stammered, focusing his attention on the cards. I slid another six chips out, doubling the hand for a solid nineteen. The other hand turned into seventeen, leaving me to wave it off and hope for the best.

“Looks like I’m doing just fine,” I smirked, looking over to Rick. He didn’t respond, gesturing to Morty’s hand across the table.

“Twenty,” he called out mournfully, scooping up the bets and thanking me.

“Here, just take it,” I said stubbornly, not taking my eyes off of Rick as I tossed him a couple chips for him to drop in his toke box.

“T-T-Thank you, Aunt Nova,” he said, his cheeks flushing at my name again.

“Tonight in our Event Center, come see Flesh Curtains, only at Aeon!” a voice called over the intercom. Rick checked his watch, sighing inwardly as his slid his remaining chips across to Morty.

“Color me up,” he ordered, sliding our money to Morty before turning to me, “You ready to go see the greatest band in existence?”

“Greatest band, huh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he grabbed his money and finished his drink. He didn’t respond, taking my hand and pulling me through the sea of aliens and Ricks headed to the Event Center. The Mortys scanning tickets looked frustrated as devices were thrust into their faces by desperate fans. Rick pushed our way to a lone Rick standing guard, flashing his black card again and speaking in low tones. Whatever he said must have had an effect as the Rick dropped the rope, allowing Rick and I through to the back door and into the cavernous theater.

Seats were squashed together as aliens milled into the theater, finding their seats. Rick moved around them deftly, pulling me behind him to a small door by the stage where we were met with a bored looking Morty who let us pass after Rick flashed his card at him again.

“So is that just a ‘get whatever the fuck you want’ card?” I asked as the door to backstage closed behind me with a soft click.

“I guess you could call it that. I used to be in here all the time. I’m an Ultra member here.”

“Where in the hell is all this money coming from?” I demanded, quietly jealous of Rick’s seemingly endless supply of income.

“W-Well, you see- I’ve made some things that- W-Well- You remember Scar, right?” he stammered, running his hand through his hair.

“Yes…” I drew out, ignoring the ache that echoed through my chest at the memory of the Rick that saved my life.

“Well, I d-did that- I DO that a lot,” he said, shifting awkwardly before returning his hand to his hair.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so while I may not have a lot of Earth’s currency, I do pretty damn well otherwise,” he explained hesitantly as we approached a large door with a star bedazzled to it. Rick knocked that same knock he used on Scar’s door, tapping his foot impatiently before the door swung open to reveal another Rick that made my jaw drop.

“Rick N-682, as I fucking live and breathe,” he smirked, shaking Rick’s hand before his gaze rested on me. This Rick was a sight to behold. His loose blue tank top dipped lazily down to his jeans, giving me a tantalizing view of his navel. I pulled my eyes away from his skull belt buckle long enough to notice how much younger than my Rick, confirming his claims about time’s effect, or lack thereof, here. He nodded in acknowledgement at me before leading us into his dressing room, a small grin playing on his cheek. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, drinking in his every movement as he talked caught up with Rick.

“I see you haven’t changed,” Rick remarked, his eyes tracing to a closed door before meeting the other Rick’s gaze. “This is my Nova, by the way. Nova, this is Rick F-287.”

“Just call me Ricky, it’s a lot easier,” the much more laid back version of my Rick assured me.

“Oh! Another Nova!” a voice called out from another room. My reverie was broken when another… me appeared out of a makeshift bedroom wearing an excited look and more fishnets and dark makeup than I’ve ever owned. I felt out of place in comparison to her relaxed wear but I had to admit, I looked fucking hot.

“Baby, why don’t you don’t you introduce her to the others,” her Rick suggested, gesturing behind her.

“Oh! Sure, come with me,” Punk Nova grinned, grabbing my hand and pulling me behind her. I spared one last fleeting glance back at my Rick before she closed the door behind us..

The ‘Others’ it turned out was more… Novas. This Rick had a veritable harem of Novas just hanging out in his dressing room. My vision spun at the sight of them, my knees going weak before Punk Nova grabbed me by my shoulder and led me over to the couch.

“You okay?” a Nova with bright pink hair asked urgently, coming to rest at my side. She was a stark contrast to the punk Nova who led me in here, wearing a tight lilac t-shirt with the Flesh Curtains plastered on the front with a short blue skirt and neon makeup. My tunnel vision was becoming worse as I stared into her face blankly. It felt like I was looking through one of those filters Madi had on her phone but I could feel her hand on my back rubbing soothingly.

“Seriously, P-465?” another Nova with long dark hair chimed in, pulling her away to give me space to breathe.

“Goddammit, Kat. It’s Pinkie. You know that,” she reared back at annoyed looking version of me.

“K-Kat? P-Pinkie?” I stammered, trying to make sense of everything. “Y-Y-You’re not Novas?”

“It’s only fucking Pinkie when you’re not on my last goddamn nerve,” Kat retorted before looking back at me with a sigh. “No, we’re Novas. We’ve adopted nicknames so we can keep each other straight. It gets old when some says Nova and five people respond.”

“Y-Y-Yea, makes total sense,” I nodded numbly. “W-What are you all doing here?”

“Why don’t you just get your head on straight, first,” Punk Nova said comfortingly. “I’m Riff, by the way. That’s Harley-” she pointed to a fourth Nova with red and black hair “-and fuck knows where Norma went. She’s new around these parts.”

“S-So, you guys are h-here because you want to be r-r-right?”

“Of course we are! We lost our Ricks, so Ricky takes care of us,” Pinkie gushed, staring at the door. My stomach churned at her infatuation with the rockstar, knowing exactly which dark part of me that stemmed from.

“Ugh, she makes it sound so weird,” Kat groaned, glaring at the pink haired version of her. “My Rick blew himself up, so I tried to go to the Citadel for help because I was heartbroken. They couldn’t help but they sent me to… him. He took me in and he does take care of me but it’s not how Pinkie makes it sound. I’m not helpless without him. I just didn’t want to… be without him.”

“I’m sorry I love him, Kat,” Pinkie shot coldly, “I don’t want him to think I’m taking him for granted.”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Riff swore, “just shut the fuck up Pinkie.”

“Rick knows how I feel about him,” Kat hissed, advancing toward Pinkie.

“Kat, don’t.” Riff tried to mediate between the two but the fury in Kat’s eyes was unlike anything I’d ever seen in the mirror. “She’s not worth it.”

“You know he hates it when you two fight,” Harley groaned, finally pulling her nose out of the book she’d been reading. “He’s about to go on stage, he doesn’t need you at each other's throats.”

The bickering between the four continued as I watched, unable to believe any of it. How were these girls… me? Sure we were physically identical for the most part but the difference in our personalities was glaring.

“Ladies, ladies,” Ricky mitigated, clapping his hands as he entered the room. My Rick followed closely behind him, the smirk lurking beneath the surface coming to fruition as he met my eye.

“She started it!” Pinkie cried, running into Ricky’s arms. He groaned, pulling her away to look her in the eyes.

“Come on Pinkie,” he growled, “This is just fucking juvenile, you know that right?”

“She kept egging me on,” Kat snarled, standing up defiantly.

“Just- Don’t,” Ricky chastised her, holding up a finger in her direction to silence her. “Pinkie, you need to knock this shit off.”

“I don’t get why she’s here,” Pinkie whined, shooting daggers at Kat.

“N-682, why don’t you and your Nova head out to the balcony seats. I need to take care of this,” Ricky sighed, giving my Rick an apologetic look.

“So that was… weird,” I murmured as we walked back out into the amphitheater to our seats.

“What? Seeing yourself in a thousand different variations?” Rick asked with a grin. “You get used to it.”

“I can’t believe you just let me nose dive into that situation,” I grumbled, shaking my head.

He checked a small sheet of paper that Ricky had given him before pushing through a thick curtain to a small balcony befitted with cozy couches with an excellent view down to the stage. A small group of tittering well-to-do’s were huddled together speaking in low tones, only stopping to lift their piercing gaze to us. Rick shot them a dirty look, pushing past them and flopping down on the couch in front row.

“You would have seen them either way,” he shrugged, kicking his feet up onto the railing, much to the disapproval of the others. “You gonna sit down or what?”

“Oh shit,” I swore, earning me a dirty look of my own. I sat down on the edge of the couch, back rigid as I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “You know, I think I took our adventures for granted.”

“Oh, did you now?” Rick grinned, raising an eyebrow over at me. “You don’t like your taste of opulence and decadence?”

“Let’s just say, I felt a lot more comfortable in dirty pawn shops and cheap arcades,” I muttered, earning a grin as loudspeaker sounded.

“Hello and welcome guests of Aeon Casino!” an announcer declared as the lights went down and focused on the stage. “Tonight we have a special treat for you, brand new material from the Flesh Curtain’s new album ‘Pushing Buttons’!”

Three figures emerged onto the stage, the crowd roaring with excitement at the sight of them. I recognized Rick immediately but he was joined by what looked like a large bird and a cat. I turned to Rick, my brow furrowed.

“Birdperson and Squanchy,” he shouted over the crowd. “Come on Nova, can’t you just relax and have a little fun?” he asked, pulling me back onto the couch and putting his arm around me. I let out a sigh, trying to emulate the same devil-may-care attitude Rick always had but the eruption of the crowd as the Rick on stage grabbed the mic set me right back on edge. Rick noticed my stiffened demeanor, pulling me in closer and kissing the top of my head.

“What’s up, you pieces of shit!?” Ricky screamed into the mic, surveying the crowd with a smug grin as they roared in delight before passing the mic back to Birdperson.

“Thank you for joining us tonight,” Birdperson said, his voice monotone. I raised an eyebrow at Rick but only received a gentle headshake in response, his eyes trained on the group down below.

The music was loud and abrasive but I had to admit, I loved it. The group of snobs behind us finally started letting loose as the show went on and they downed drink after drink. They even started sending drinks our way, much to Rick’s delight. When our drinks emptied, another appeared in its place, courtesy of our new friends behind us. Soon enough, one of the women with them grabbed my hand and pulled me in close, dancing sloppily as Rick watched with a bemused grin. My ears were ringing and my cheeks hurt from grinning but I was finally feeling relaxed. No one to judge as I danced and drank, Rick even joining in.

“Squanch you and good night!” the cat on drums shouted before letting out one final drum solo. The show lasted three hours but it truly felt like no time had passed. A large alien bodyguard appeared in our archway, informing Rick and I that Ricky wanted us to come back by his dressing room for an after party. I thanked the group behind before Rick and I followed the creature back down the hallways, pushing through a sea of screaming fans that were just desperate for a glimpse of the band they seemed to live their lives by.

“N-682! You made it!” Ricky shouted, tripping over a large bag of empty beer bottles as Rick pushed his way into the dressing room. While it hadn’t been necessarily clean before, it was truly trashed now. The door to the bedroom had been ripped off its hinges, leaving a perfect view of the Novas doing a line with Squanchy. A group of aliens were spread out on the floor, countless bottles surrounding them as they told stories of antics past while Birdperson sat rigidly in a corner chair, his foot calmly tapping to the beat of the music blasting out of the stereo next to him.

“Rick,” he said evenly, “it is good to see you.”

“‘Pers, my man. Always a pleasure,” Rick said, playfully smacking Birdperson’s shoulder before pulling up a chair next to him. This left me standing awkwardly in the doorway holding my arm and wishing I could just go home or at least back to the room. I opened my mouth to tell Rick but Ricky grabbed my elbow gently.

“Hey, yo*uuurp*u okay?” he asked softly, wearing a look of concern I’d only really seen on my Rick.

“Y-Y-Yeah,” I stammered, shifting nervously and giving my lie away. “I’m just not really good in… social settings, I guess. Plus I’m a little drunk and I’m not even sure why I’m admitting it but here we are.” Ricky chuckled at my rambling but said nothing, nodding over at my Rick and leading me away from the din of the party guests. He opened a door, finding the room occupied by creatures in what looked like a compromising position, slamming it shut quickly as he continued his hunt for somewhere quiet. He finally circled back, going to the only door he had skipped, opening it with an apologetic look.

“Sorry this might not be ideal.”

“This is a bathroom with fresh vomit,” I grinned, holding my fingers under my nose to block most of the smell. The toilet was overflowing with vomit and the sink had its fair share as well. Now this is what I was accustomed to when it came to adventuring with Rick. Dirty surroundings and smells I’d rather not be smelling. I could feel the tension melting away from my shoulders already.

“S-Somehow it doesn’t seem to be bothering you all the much,” he remarked, flushing the toilet fruitlessly.

“This is what my life usually consists of,” I shrugged, “Hell, you get me out of this dress and into some running shoes and I’ll be top of my game.”

He raised an eyebrow, disappearing for a moment and returning with a change of clothes. He held them through the doorway, giving me the privacy to change. I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped out of the heels and into a black pair of running shoes. I was grateful to get out of the dress, no matter how beautiful it was and into a pair of leggings and Flesh Curtains tank top. I peeked around the door to find Ricky coming back down the hall with a large bottle and two red cups.

“Oh no, no, no,” I grinned, stepping away from him. “I’ve seen how this timeline goes, a bottle and two cups never ends well for me.”

“Oh come on, Nova,” Ricky grinned, pouring a shot into the cup and handing it over to me. “You said you were already drunk. I think that ships sailed.” I considered a moment, biting my lip to fight back the grin playing on my cheek as I stared at the cup.

“How does alcohol even get you drunk here anyway?” I asked, eyeing the bottle. “Rick said there were no consequences here.”

“Nova, this is a fucking casino. Without booze, this place would be entirely pointless.”

“Alright then, fine,” I relented, taking the cup and trying to fight the grin spreading over my face. I don’t know what it was about him. Maybe it was the booze, maybe it was because he was Rick, even if it was just a different version of him. Maybe it was just the fact he was so kind.

“I knew you’d see reason,” he grinned again, drinking straight from the bottle.

“So why in the hell are you being so nice to me?” I asked, sputtering from the liquor. He raised an eyebrow at me in confusion so I continued, “Like, I’ve been on the Citadel enough for twelve lifetimes. The Ricks there don’t seem to care much about Nova’s there. There was one ready to kill me just to kill my Rick.”

“Oh, damn. I dunno. I like Novas,” he shrugged, pouring us each another shot. “I’m sure your Rick would say I’ve become soft with fame, but I just don’t like seeing Nova’s upset.”

“My Rick would say he’s become soft,” I snorted, taking another drink. “So why do you have a veritable harem here?”

“H-Harem?” he coughed, choking on his drink. “Do you think I keep them around to just fuck them constantly?”

“Well, I mean… what else you be doing with them?”

“Treating them like human fucking beings? If a Nova I meet doesn’t want to sleep with me but needs somewhere to go, I help them. It’s pretty fucking cut and dry,” he explained, “Some stick around, like Pinkie, but some will inevitably move on, like Riff or Kat. I’m a fucking millionaire. I can swing it.”

“But, you’re a Rick, right?” I asked, holding my cup out for more. “From what I’ve come to understand, Ricks don’t do anything without there being a benefit to them.”

“Look, I mean, whatever benefits I get from being around a sea of Novas is inconsequential,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck before downing the rest of his drink.

“Aha! I knew it!”

“Who told you that, anyway? That’s a pretty depressing way to view a guy who’s supposed to lo-care about you.”

“My Morty,” I shrugged, sliding down against the wall. “He’s been, uh, pretty insistent on it lately. He wants me to just leave Rick and just go after someone better.”

“Ugh, Morties,” he grimaced, “Look, don’t listen to that twat. He really doesn’t know shit about shit.”

“Agree to disagree on that one, compadre,” I dismissed lazily, my limbs becoming far heavier than I remembered. “W-Where is Rick, anyway?”

“He was out there talking to Birdperson last I saw,” he reassured me, sliding down against the wall next to me.

“H-He isn’t worried about where I disappeared to?” I slurred sadly, offering my cup back over to Ricky.

“Come on, sweetheart, he knows I’m with you,” he chastised me.

“H-H-How does he know you’re not in here making moves on me or whatever?”

“Because he knows I’m not one of those Ricks,” he growled. “You really don’t trust how he feels about you do you?”

“Wh-Why should I? He never says anything either way,” I mourned, downing the shot and quickly asking for another.

“Look, I can’t speak for your relationship, but I know that Rick. He was one of the first ones I met when the Citadel formed. There are Ricks out there that don’t care about their Novas. Hell, I heard about one a couple months back who let his Nova overdose because if she couldn’t keep up, then she wasn’t all she was chalked up to be. Do you really think that sounds like the guy you’re with?”

“No,” I admitted shamefully, my head drooping slightly as the alcohol weighed it down. “I’ve just been through a lot-”

“Y-Y-You don’t have to launch into the story, I know it all too well,” Ricky stopped me quickly, holding up a hand. “We Ricks aren’t good with the whole… emotional openness garbage. There are a couple oddballs out there but if you think you’re going to get some soft ‘I’ll love you until the end of time’ crap, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

I didn’t respond, staring into the murky liquid. Ricky didn’t push me, allowing me to lose myself in my thoughts for what seemed like hours until my eyelids started drooping. I felt Ricky push past me gently, pulling the door out and disappearing through it before I lost the fight and let my eyelids slam shut.

“N-Nova. H-Hey Nova, come on. Let me help you up, sweetheart. Let’s go home,” a gruff voice murmured. I could feel my limbs being tugged softly as they were pulled over a set of shoulders as I was brought back up to my feet. “Come on, baby, I’ve got you.”

“Wh-Wh-What happened?” I asked, trying to open my eyes. “Where am I? Wh-Who are you?”

“Oh jesus, you really got fucked up,” he chuckled, adjusting fruitlessly over his shoulders before letting out a frustrated sigh. “This is not fucking working. Nova, baby, I need you to hold onto me as tight as you can, okay?”

“O-Okay, mystery man,” I giggled. My arm was brought back around his neck, only for him to lift me up, bridal style. I tried to open my eyes again and caught a glimpse of blue hair before they slid shut again. “Which one are you?”

“I could be any Rick in conceivable existence,” he laughed darkly, “and there would be nothing you could do about it.” I recoiled away from him, trying to fight my way out his embrace to no avail. “Jesus Nova, I was joking. It’s me- I’m your Rick,” he groaned, pulling me in tighter.

“Oh, good,” I nodded, tucking my head back into his chest. The rhythmic bounce of each step lulled me into a complacent state and by the time he sat me back down, we were in his ship, rocketing through space.

It was dark when finally landed back in the driveway. Most of the alcohol had left my system, leaving me with a throbbing headache and parched throat. Rick pushed his door over, making his way over to my side to pull me out himself.

“Oh shit, you’re awake.” His voice was husky as he surveyed my lazy form, chuckling to himself before walking over to his workbench. He started mixing chemicals, testing his concoction by taste until it seemed to be satisfying enough. He brought his finished product back over to me, offering it to me.

“No offense, but what the fuck is that?” I asked bluntly.

“L-Look- Just drink it okay? Your fuckin’ head hurts right? This will make it stop.”

I grabbed the cup out of his hand, smelling it once for good measure before downing it. The taste was vile but the pain in my head and stomach stopped up instantly as my vision cleared up. I pulled myself out of the ship, surprised to find my legs steady as I stood up.

“Wh-What was in that?”

“It’s just my hangover cure,” he shrugged. “It’s been saving my ass over the last twenty years.”

“Thanks, Rick,” I murmured, moving closer to him. “For everything. I had a lot of fun.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” he stammered, his voice gravelly as he rested his hand on the small of my back.

My head may have been cleared up by his “cure” but being this close to him was intoxicating all on its own. I bit my lip as I looked up at him, earning me a low growl as he pressed his lips to mind, kissing me desperately. I returned his kiss eagerly, pulling him closer to me. He picked me up with ease, carrying me over his workbench.

“Are you sure you wanna do this out here?” I breathed, breaking the kiss to both of our frustration. “Beth-”

“Beth’s asleep,” he growled, reclaiming my lips. I wanted to continue arguing but his wandering hands pushed the thought right out of my mind. He worked his hand up under my shirt, pleased to find no bra underneath. My breast was cupped in one hand while the other worked its way into my hair, curling around my hair to pull my head away from him. My neck exposed, he watched me squirm underneath of him. I was completely under his control and he was enjoying every moment of it.

“R-Rick- Rick please,” I begged softly, desperate for stimulation of any kind.

“All in good time, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear, lingering just inches away. “What do you want me to do to you, Nova? Tell me what you want.”

“R-Rick, I-”

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.”

“I want- I want you, please,” I cried desperately, “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I know that,” he chuckled darkly. “I want to know what you want me to do to you right now. Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to make you scream my name until you forget your own?”

“Jesus, fuck yes, Rick,” I gasped, biting my lip again. He growled softly at the sight, panting softly as he dropped his hand from my breast, searching instead for the warmth below. He traced his fingers around my thighs, making sure to avoid the most sensitive area.

“So you want me to slide my cock in right here?” he asked, tracing a large circle around the throbbing mound between my legs.

“I need it,” I pleaded, clawing at his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer.

“Who am I to deny you?” he cooed in my ear, releasing my hair and gripping the sides of my yoga pants. He tossed them to the side as the cool air swirled around my exposed lower half. I shivered as I watched him unbuckle his pants, letting them fall lazily to ground as he pushed his way between my thighs. He dragged the tip of his cock up and down my moist slit.

“Oh Rick, oh fuck,” I murmured, my hands firmly rooted on his shoulders.

“Say my fucking name, Nova. Let the neighbors know who’s fucking you,” he growled, continuing his assault on my clit to torturous effect.

“Rick!” I moaned. At my compliance he slid the tip in, sliding it in and out slowly.

“Louder, Nova. I don’t think they heard you,” he ordered, his voice being over by a slight pant.

“Fuck, Rick! It’s you! Rick fucking Sanchez!” I shouted, letting my head fall back. He slammed into me finally as I continued screaming his name as loud as I possibly could. I released his shoulders, laying back on the table and pulling my knees into my chest. He quickened his pace, using his thumb to massage my clit gently.

“Fuck, Nova,” he panted as he buried himself in me, “You feel fucking amazing.”

I could feel my orgasm building, only moments from my release as he fell into a steady rhythm. I would have made there had it not been for the garage door swinging open, slamming into the dryer behind it.

“God fucking dammit, Dad!” Beth bellowed, shielding her eyes from the sight of her father burying his cock into her best friend. “I cannot fucking do this anymore, you guys need to stop!”

“H-Hold on, honey,” Rick grunted, quickening his pace.

“R-Rick, no- Stop,” I insisted, pushing him away from me. He conceded, pulling out of me and bending down to pull his pants up.

“What the fuck do you want, Beth?” he snarled, turning to face his daughter, taking care to shield my exposed form. I looked around desperately for my pants only to find them dangling haphazardly on the Meeseeks box.

“I want this to fucking stop,” she demanded, avoiding my gaze. “You’re waking up the entire fucking house. I sure as fuck don’t want to hear it.”

“B-Beth, I-I’m sorry,” I blushed, pulling my shirt down as much as possible.

“You know what, I don’t want to fucking hear it, Nova. Your daughter is asleep in this house,” she hissed, finally meeting my gaze. A look of fury I had never seen before distorted her features as she glared at me, turning to disgust as her eyes drifted downward. “Dad, you need to stop this, now. Nova, it might be time for you to start looking for somewhere else to live.”

“B-Beth, wait- please, no,” I begged, tears streaking down my cheeks.

“You know, I’m starting to think Jerry was right about you two,” Beth said coldly, “I thought I was okay with it when it meant Dad would stay but I was wrong. What you’re doing with him is wrong. He’s my fucking father, you sick fucking bitch,”

“Jesus fucking christ Beth, stop,” Rick cut in, advancing toward her. “Don’t fucking talk to her like that.”

“Why not?” she asked hysterically. “You two didn’t consider my feelings in the situation. I’m just supposed to be okay with it? Even when the thought makes me feel sick to my stomach?”

“Your fucking hangups are not our problems,” Rick snarled. He grabbed my pants off of the shelf, tossing them back to me. I slipped them on quickly and pushed past Rick.

“Beth, I’m sorry. We were really inconsiderate, I’m so fucking sorry.” I pleaded with my friend to see reason but the cold, clinical disgust in her eyes assured me it was a lost cause.

“You need to leave,” she repeated coldly. “Madison can stay here until you have somewhere to go but I suggest you go back to your house tonight. I don’t want to see you here in the morning.”

“Beth, she’s not going anywhere-”

“No, Rick. It’s fine,” I conceded, wiping the tears away as I pushed the garage door opener.

“No, Nova. You’re not going anywhere,” he roared, pushing the button again. “I-I can fix this.” He started digging through the drawers at his workbench, finally extracting a large gun with two discs. He pushed a couple buttons before aiming it at Beth, pulling the trigger. She crumpled to the floor, eyes glazed over.

“Rick! What did you do to her?” I asked, horrified. “Did you kill Beth?!”

“Wh-What? No?” he retorted, insulted by the accusation. “I just erase the last half an hour from her memory. I’m going to put her back in her bed, when she wakes up she won’t remember any of this.” He pulled a vial from the device, loading it with another before sitting it down on his workbench.

“S-So, everything’s okay now?” I asked numbly. He nodded quickly, pulling Beth over his shoulder. “I’m just- I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Y-You okay?” he asked, stopping at the door to face me.

“I-I’m fine,” I murmured, pushing past him. I couldn’t get Beth’s words out of my head as I went into my room, locking the door behind me before collapsing in my bed.

“He’s my fucking father, you sick bitch.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time for me to leave.

#rick and morty #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez x reader #Rick Sanchez/reader

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booasaur · 6 years ago

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holy shit did you used to analyze faberry too

Lol, I don’t consider what I do now as analyzing anything, I just gif and answer questions--oh, wait, I already said I was an analyzer, not a creator, right. I’m not an analyzer, I’m a regurgitator. That’s better. :P But whatever it is I do, I did a lot less then. Tbh, I did a lot less of everything before. I used to get like 2 asks a month before this, did you know. Heh. But yeah, Faberry was my first tumblr fandom so it was just a bunch of terrible gifs. Another Tumblr Glee cliche. :)

And another anon:

you're right, I'll blacklist. it's just, seeing people go through great lengths to tear someone down gets to you. especially since they claim to love barb. I miss soft juliantina and people freaking out in the tags about AAM. it's starting to take a weird turn, a lesson I should've learned from glee and the 100. I guess seeing it unfold in real time like this when the tag used to be all kinds of fun is the worst part. i'm sorry for venting in your messages.

Yeah, it’s sad to see it happening but it’s not just f/f fandom or even just fandom. It’s...boredom, tbh. People want to hang onto an experience, some channeling that into deeper destructive places and creating causes and issues to be united behind. That could happen in anything, fandom, sports, politics. And then focus back onto fandom, there are those who create their own versions of actors--well, that’s probably true of everything else as well, huh. But yeah, people then have a hard time reconciling what they’ve been thinking with what they’re seeing.

We were fed unbelievably well for a while there but now that that new content is gone and as you said, it is a bit inevitable. The tag slows down, the posts you don’t like start to become harder to avoid because there’s less to drown them out. Hopefully with some time and maybe some fandom events, the tags can be replenished with the good stuff.

Lol, I was going to ignore your sorry at the end or say obviously you didn’t need to add it but since you reignited this little convo in my inbox and invited the next response, I am going to hold you a bit responsible. :P

And another anon:

I hope everyone who hates Gonzalo also hates Cami//a Cabe//o for using the N word, but in reality 95% of the lgbtq community still stans her racist ass. If you're gonna use something someone said in the past against them then at least be consistent about it. But literally the rest of the world knows the real reason they're hating on Gonzalo, you can see it just by reading the hate they send him and things they say to Barbi about him, they're just jealous and need to stop being hypocrites.

I was unsure about whether or not to respond to and thus publish this, anon. As much as I want to maintain a positive tone here, I do see the merit in what you’re saying. Did it need to be said? Maybe. Did it need to be said here? I don’t really know.

I am not nor do I want to be any kind of fandom voice or arbiter. There’s a difference between people saying something to me and saying something to what they imagine are my legions of followers through me. And in cases like this, I don’t particularly want to take the time and energy to navigate between all the issues here: yes, fandom can be hypocritical, yes, let people grow from mistakes, but also, no, you don’t have to forgive or like people who said bigoted things. There are people who dislike both of them, and have valid reason in doing so? Although obviously how they handle it is important and as you said, it’s not the reason for some people.

I don’t know, anon, maybe you were frustrated and wanted some commiseration. Maybe you saw me posting about it earlier and fired off a quick ask to impart some knowledge. But honestly, as much as I somehow feel like I have to respond to these (and pass over far nicer asks while doing so) because I feel shallow and irresponsible if I don’t, I don’t really care much about this topic or have much to say. If you have strong opinions you want to share, feel free to make your own post. You’ll reach as large an audience by posting in the tag as by sending this to me.

#I feel like i put way more time into that last ask than the person who sent it #definitely rethinking my answer everything policy #replies #femslash related stuff #5 #amar a muerte #Anonymous

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vehlika-pelican · 7 years ago

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warning for long post! i always get my best ideas at night when im on mobile and cant do a read-more. sorry. blacklist "vehl's headcannons" to stop seeing my stuff. no rvb season 15 spoilers i dont think. me3 is like 5 years old now so im not tagging it as spoilers for any of the games. OKAY, RVB X MASS EFFECT TRILOGY CROSSOVER ( mostly ME 1 because its been two hours since i started writing this post now and oh shit) #TuckerFightsARobotArmy is gonna be the tag for this and the inevitable sequel posts at first i thought, with default Femshep being a badass red-head that would make our local badass red-head Carolina the obvious choice for the role but it occurred to me that she would make a better Miranda Lawson than Commander Shepard. The Director is The Illussive Man (Tim). Aside from the daddy issues, Miranda is a big supporter of Tim's until she finally sees his dark side and resigns during the end of ME 2 just like Carolina was a staunch believer in the Director until she had to face the music. The Freelancers are involved in Project Phoenix and ultimately its every man for himself when the Director starts indoctrinating/reaperfying troops. She gets assigned to the Normandy SR-2 just before the agents make their escape and she's left out of the loop and feeling betrayed. She carries that well into hunting the Collectors and her loyalty mission involves maybe saving York and getting answers. Carolina goes into hiding just like Miranda during ME3, trying to take down her former employer and his organization on her own until she needs help. Thats where our best dudes come in. but then if she's taking the place of Miranda, who could be Shepard? let's start with the Reds. Sarge is too...Sarge. Maybe he could take Admiral Hackett's place as Admiral Colonel Sarge because obviously (everyone knows he's crazy but going from enlisted man to fleet admiral makes him a legend, and he really earned a name for himself during the First Contact War. that name was legally changed to Colonel.) Grif would be Joker, so our esteemed pilot/vehicle operator who's all back-talk and bitching. Simmons is where it gets tricky. Simmons could be an engineer, possibly a quarian, who got prosthetic limbs from when he temporarily served with Sarge on a joint human-quarian deployment and became enamored with the freedom to experiment in the Alliance opposed to the strict policies in the Migrant Fleet and sought to return to his service by trying to kiss ass. but i also like him as EDI because of the proximity to Grif and how they would develop that friendship leading up to Joker's Mission when Grif unshackles Simmons to save the Normandy in ME 2. i also kind of like krogan!Grif, and you know the two of them would have the greatest time messing with the Alliance's engineers during the retrofits. then when Simmons gets a body in ME3 he tries to get a faux-skin to look human but there's a problem and its missing in places on the left side and Grif decides to tell people he's just got some prosthetics from an accident. all shiny and chrome on the fury road. Donut is Kelly Chambers. trained in psychology but rarely clinical, loving all the species, somehow spreading a space-dog STD around the ship, a bit too naive if pretty gung-ho about the mission but give him a belt of lift grenades and hot damn we're in business. Lopez is the AI who robbed the bank? embezelled money? (ME 1) and threatened to detonate a nuclear bomb inside a shopping center but actually managed to buy and download himself into a ship and set sail for sweet robot freedom in the Persius Veil. he was caught by Sarge and officially "destroyed" when he's really locked in a Rampart mech with AI shackles that force him to aid Sarge in his crazy science endeavors. he refuses to speak anything other than spanish out of spite even when he genuinely needs assistance. now the Blues. Washington will have been with Cerberus until about the beginning of ME3 which is when Tim starts indoctrinating troops and members of Project Phoenix take their chances so thats too late to start trying to save the galaxy from the Reaper threat. Caboose takes the place of David (i might be getting the name wrong), an autistic savant who can communicate with a race of alien AI (the quarian-made geth) and is unwillingly mentally linked to the geth for an unknown period of time by his own brother (one of his sisters then? my poor boy imsorry). This would cause the neural trauma/scarring resulting in Caboose being... more Caboose. but he isn't found until sometime in ME2 by Shepard and co. Freckles is the mad AI who goes rogue on Luna (not EDI or part of Simmons in this au) but ends up being befriended by Caboose. he inhabits an Atlas/Titan mech and together they're unstoppable. Tex is an attempt to recreate Allison as an AI inside a cloned body made by the Director during the early stages of his madness. now she's taking Ashley's place as a trigger happy space racist, a double agent inside the Alliance and on Tucker's squad. Church almost dates her but something...feels off...and instead spends his time fighting with her because it feels...familiar? like when he used to argue with his mom when she was alive. huh. Kaikaina and Grif petitioned to serve together so she's on the squad as an infilitrator of all things. she and Wrex commiserate over the story of how she stole a krogan warlord's biotic hammer and she tramatizes Grif by flirting with his 800-pound ass. (not that it goes anywhere. Wrex thinks humans are too squishy.) which leaves...Tucker. because who else. Commander Shepard took the responsibility of proving the existence and defeating the Reapers only because they happened to be at Eden Prime when the prothean beacon was to be recovered. it could have been anyone caught in the beacon- Ashley or Kaidan or any other marine- and that person would have tried to do the same. Tucker in RVB isnt so much chosen to be the savior of an alien race (Doc said he was but that was more Junior) as he gets caught in a bunch of shit that went down in ways he was not expecting when he interacted with an ancient alien artifact thank you very much. so he's on the Normandy SR-1 because he's an N7-in-training or outright failed to get past N1 (which is still impressive because he was considered and thats not easy criteria to meet. let my man be a badass space marine. just a little bit. badass-in-training. HE'LL GET THERE.) but is noticed for his potential and is to be evaluated by turian!/salarian!Felix for Spectre candidacy. the first human Spectre. he's a biotic, i can't decide between adept and vanguard. Tucker and Grif are Totally On To the mission's importance because "spectre's(Felix) dont come along for shake-down runs" in their new experiental human-turian ship and they arrive at Eden Prime mid-attack. Tucker and his squad try to clear a path to the beacon while Felix scouts ahead. but then they find his body and eyewitnesses say it was someone he knew by name that shot him once he let his guard down and his back was turned. "Locus" they say. supposedly leading the assault with an army of heretic-geth and a massive ship emitting a terrible sound. they fight to the beacon, disable bombs along the way, and find it just as Locus's ship departs. as the squad's engineer is scanning it, Tucker notices they're starting to levitate and rushes in to grab them and throw them aside only to get caught himself. he gets the prothean vision-warning about the Reapers and maybe a special prothean omni-blade and its on. he has to prove to the Citadel Council that their Spectre Locus is a traitor and that the Reapers are real but visions? galactic extinction cycles? oh you humans are so full of it. you've been part of the galactic community for 30 years and now you're here with a conspiracy theory at best? i cant believe we thought you could work for us. blah. Tucker marches off but meets Church who's been trying to take Locus down from within the system to no avail. Alpha!Church is the Director's son but Allison got custody after the divorce and now he's a grouchy C-Sec cop getting nowhere real quick. Tucker invites him along and he's a shitty sniper but actually pretty decent with the Mako's cannon considering it handles like a drunk krogan who can do a flip it you drive off the cliff edge fast enough (what are mass effect booster jets for?). they track down a krogan mercenary (Wrex is probably still Wrex. because who could hope to live up to him?) and fight through a strip club and kill Fist and rescue a quarian (Palomo? make that Jensen) with evidence proving Locus is guilty. then they save Dr. Emily Grey and help her keep her small clinic in the wards from being shut down and she gives them sweet discounts and all the free medigel they can shove into their pockets. they rescue asari!Doc from inside a prothean ruin (got lost on a yoga retreat and panicked when geth started attacking...i guess he could be an archeologist but maybe they drag Grey along for the ride instead...) but he's developed a split personality due to how long he's been alone in there and its kinda murderous but coupled with biotics its pretty useful. (and yes, asari are mono-gendered and are all "female" but ME: Andromeda confirmed that some asari use masculine pronouns/identify as "male" and there's no way that wasn't a thing in ME 1 canon so Doc is he/him). on Virmire, he almost shoots Tex AND Wrex on the beach- put down your shotguns you fucking lunatics i will biotically throw you into the ocean! he helped Wrex get his family armor so Tucker manages to talk him down but man Tex could you chill its been months already. he has to leave Tex behind though to protect the bomb while he and Wrex save Kaikaina and Kirahee and fight Locus. they evacuate and the bomb detonates and atleast it was instantaneous. she wouldn't have felt herself be vaporized, it was quick and we stopped Locus from getting an army of krogan. Church is devastated and knowing that Tucker leaving Tex behind was a conscious choice splinters their friendship. but. Tucker has to finish this. its bullshit and why us. why'd it have to be us on this ship in this life shewasmyfriendtoo- but its a race against the clock to the lost relay and Ilos and theres no time to have a real talk. its complete bullshit. they get to Ilos but Locus is ahead of them and they have to fight so many geth and find a 50,000 year old message which only Tucker can understand but fuck this we're being left in Locus' dust openthisstupid templedoor*swish* oh shit this things a fucking key "guess we didnt have to fight all them robots" he said stepping over the mountain of slain robots because fuck my life. Wrex how'd you live so long life fucking sucks. "i've been drunk for a lot of it" great. yup. can the Mako go any faster. and then they meet Vigil but dont record it because they're still idiots who forget/dont mind the details until Simmons shows up in the sequel you morons but hey remember THAT CHASE WE WERE IN LETSGO and they drive the Mako into a relay and if Tucker made sure to crash into a geth colossus no one says anything- and they fly out into the Presidium Commons like if the Mako had wings but itfuckingdoesnt and why are there even jets on this tank. Locus and Sovereign beat them to the Citadel and the arms are closed but Hal-9000 over there is just chillin' on the Citadel Tower like he's shishing the kebab himself. then gravity goes off and they fight sideways all the way up the tower and those turrets sure are being turrets you know and not differentiating between us and the assholes ahead of us. but they finally make it and stop Locus short of the apocalypse. Tucker goes all renegade Locus was just afraid, the Reapers put his life in persepective and we are all so small and insignificant, "is servitude not preferable to extinction?" you're just a puppet, they're using you because you're weak, because you let them, do yourself a favor-! but Locus claims its too late and they fight and kill him. but he rises anyway. the fight the first and only Possessed Marauder- Sovereign controlig Locus' corpse through implants. he was mostly implants. and once its ash ashashashes Tex didnt even get to be ashes its unfa- and Sarge is over the comm, open the Citadel's arms son so the Alliance can save the day and Tucker has a choice. save the Council and sacrifice thousands of soldiers. or kill the Reaper and worry about new leadership later. its Tex again. worse. i need to think, theres no time, you know what this thing can do you saw in the vision i believe you so what do we do. make the call. and Tucker needs the Council's support...but the Reaper needs to be killed...but saving the Council will cost too much...but the Reaper could still call the others from dark space...they'll trust me... will the new ones? will the Alliance? Anyone? no. but someone will definitely be alive. kill Sovereign. the Council dies. the Destiny Ascention is destroyed. the Alliance suffers minimal loses. humanity fills the vacuum of power. humanity is no longer trusted. they blame him. he does too. have any of his choices been good enough? right? much of the crew goes their own way. Church goes back to C-Sec. maybe he'll call. Wrex returns to Tuchanka, faith in his people restored. Doc joins Grey at her small clinic. Jensen returns to the Migrant Fleet with geth data. and Tucker and the rest are... disgraced. no one says but they dont have to. every breath is a reminder of his failures and what he did. so much potential in him once, they say. he could have been great. instead he did this. and they fight geth. chase geth. fight more. they head to Alchera. more geth, they said. it isnt. the ship is blown apart. Kaikaina shoves anyone who cant walk into the escape pods. The XO is killed almost immediately. Grif won't leave. Tucker, please, Dex! Get Dex! she yells as she's dragged into an escape pod by a Yeoman and he storms over because he wont lose anyone else but the hull is gone and you can't run in mag boots. Grif is fighting for Normandy. Tucker can hear him asking for just a little more just enough to- to- but Tucker's having none of it and pulls and heaves and forces his idiot pilot into the pod. of all the times Grif chose to be the opposite of lazy. a streak of yellow catches his eye and its coming this way and he pushes off and hits the launch button but the engines blow and he hits something as he is set adrift. he's losing air. fuck, its- its behind him. he panics and scrambles for the puncture but his arms are geting heavier and he's already wheezing short little breaths shortlittlefailures youfailedyoukilledthem youkilledher. the sun in the distance is bright. he can feel his body tilt toward the planet, sees the sunlight cresting over the horizon. his vision goes dark around the edges. but the sun is bright and he doesnt notice he isnt afraid and he falls *maniacal laughter* someone should have stopped me. i think its super out of character but this is a rambling monster and not meant to go super in-depth or anything. god help me.

#vehl's headcannons #TuckerFightsARobotArmy #lavernius tucker #rvb #mass effect

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hellacluttered · 8 years ago

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about to watch Sinister cuz Ethan Hawke. Probably gonna regret this later when I have to drive home alone in the dark and chill there by myself for a few hours >.<

(i’ll be keeping a running commentary going on this post because I’m watching by myself and someone has to commiserate with me XD)

Okay BH productions? like Byung-hun? so Billy is producing Goody’s other films?

already a sucker for Ethan’s stylish dad look

*desperately hoping he has Goody’s whitworth sniper rifle cause this house is creepy af and he’s gonna need it later on*

@rocanono (idk why it won’t let me tag you) ooh okay awesome!! i will keep an eye out! and cool, it looks really good already :D

“You can never explain something like this” well Officer, pls go ahead and witness Ethan Hawke do it

that said ethan’s probably gonna regret not listening later

ohhh no don’t open the box, don’t you know you’re in a horror movie dude? oh right... not yet

Random shots of the house from the outside in the dark are never a good sign

“It’s not gonna go sour” I hate to break this to you buddy, but...

Christopher Young is a genius; this music is making me feel weird. A+ job.

Yeah, good luck going to sleep with the wifey after watching that, Ethan

I’m so on edge right now I’ll probably have chewed off my lower lip before this ends lol.

TURN ON THE DANG LIGHTS

*casually switches between being sweet to daughter and watching people being killed*

I wanna look this good when I’m 42

THE CREAKING

this poor kid :’(

“Have a nice morning with your murder victims!” “Yes dear.” - relationship goals

THE FACE OH MY GOSH

So one kid always goes missing?

“Hey, who turned out the lights?” (doctor who anyone?)

If there’s a jump scare right now I’m probably gonna throw my computer out the window by accident

DON’T GO IN THE ATTIC

If his wife finds him wandering around the house with a knife and a flashlight i think she’s gonna leave with the kids right then

Plot concept: the story from his family’s perspective where they think Ellison is going cray

shouldn’t you do something about that snake?

LOL THIS GUY WANTS AN S/O IN HIS BOOK

(i mean same tbh)

Ellison rolling his eyes at himself in an old interview: my new aesthetic

Homeboy needs a new computer wallpaper; isn’t that supernova thing the default one?

Again, props to Chris Young for this extremely unnerving music

IT MOVED HOLY FDKLAJSIODJWIO

THE HANDS! SLAM THAT COMPUTER BOI!!

HIDE YO KIDS HIDE YO WIFE ITS OUTSIDE YOUR HOUSE DUDE

Ellison. You need to take a very careful look at your priorities.

Well if it isn’t Jack Horne!! 👏👏👏👏👏

his voice is normal tho? XD

This is the most realistic skype session i have seen in a movie- talking over each other and interruptions and all that

I like how prof. Jonas seems to just be having this nice convo with his family around

like “did you just say ‘eater of children?’” “yeah, i’ll tell you about it after dinner honey”

If Ellison was a heavy sleeper this plot would be very different

imagining bagul (or however you spell it) knocking on the windows and getting frustrated like “ugh, come on dude wake up, i’m trying to terrorize your family! this isn’t fun!” and then pouting in the woods

danggg all these ghost children... they’re creepy but i feel so bad for them

Wait so dude, if you saw this thing outside your house and you know it kills families and captures their kids, why are y’all still here???

Okay this police dude is great

“You have done some crazy shit in the past but this definitely takes the cake” - sounds about right to me

OH NO THE MURDER VIDEO LIGHT THING IS SHINING ON HIM

ohh no

ohhhhhhhhh no

NOOOOOO

YES FINALLY PLS LEAVE

the box. are you kidding me???

dude. don’t watch the videos. idk what to do just not that

Actually I do know what to do- get Jonas to get his Jack Horne on and find Billy and y’all can go western on this sucker

oh wait you can’t destroy it tho

BILLY ROCKS YOU GET IN THAT HOUSE RIGHT NOW

.....

I wonder if the kids who were in this movie were allowed to watch it or if their parents said no

HOLY SMOKES the ending tho!!! and the rapid onset feeling of inevitability.

Wow. That was really well done.

#sinister #ethan hawke

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multsicorn · 8 years ago

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KENT PARSON

LOLZ it’s like you know me

this is so long it’s under a cut

character: hate them | don’t really care | like them | LOVE them | THEY ARE MY PRECIOUS

ship with: EVERYONE. literally everyone. … okay to break this down:

* Jack/Parse is the main thing I write about and think about and have feelings about. however they are generally pretty sad-trending feelings. so what does ‘ship’ mean.

* Parse/OC(s) is the thing I actually WANT TO HAPPEN for him, it’s the happy place future I go to when I go that far in my mind; not to get back with Jack, with or without Bitty, but to get the FUCK OVER those wounds, that hook, finally.

* (I have a tendency to go for Parse/Swoops, specifically, cause I’d like the ‘falling for a teammate’ story to work out *well,* and, um, cause there’s a specific set of tags that I started keying that off of that I should go find again - it was on a post about ace Kent Parson, something like #he wants to be someone’s everything #in a very specific way, and. idk. it makes a compelling story-seed, for me.)

* Parse/THERAPY is also an extremely necessary thing that I’m not likely to write but I dearly hope happens someday

* PB&J/Pimbits/whatever it’s called is my favorite sort of shippy story, I think; there’s lots of Parse/OC fics that are JUST AS GOOD, but… the overlaying of multiple love triangles, and then synthesizing them into a working system, that happens in the Jack/Bitty/Parse fics that work with the setup there (rather than skipping forwards into ‘when they’re all happy together’)… gets my #feelings well enough that it dragged me into this fandom!…. specifically, I started reading first check, please! fic and then eventually the comic because touchy subject and ain’t licked yet are not only so fucking good but hit my id SO PERFECTLY. Everyone having feelings about everyone else’s relationships. Such wonderful emotional ~density!

* Patater is the only popular Parse ship I’m like… why. (I do buy des-zimbits’ ship manifesto about how they could be good together; but, c’mon, that’s not why, the reason why is cause Tater is the next-most-fleshed-out NHL character who isn’t Jack, and isn’t already fairly strongly paired with someone else, and can therefore be paired with Kent without disrupting any existing popular ships.) Basically I’ve read some good ones, but most of it seems to be the exact sort of fluff that is why I mostly don’t read Zimbits fic and mostly do read Parse fic! (And that’s before even getting into #little Russian things that throw me out of the story.)

* But really, just, anyone; I read the Parse character tag on AO3 so I won’t miss the gen fics or the random crack ships, cause sometimes they’re good! (I think this is what it’s like to be way more OTC than OTP.)

friendship them with: JACK jack jack jack jack.

Also Bitty that could be so interesting, I want to see them navigating a friendship around their separate feelings/history/etc. wrt Jack, I want to see that #blessyourheart and Parse’s probable answering antagonism (or simply antagonism born out of jealousy) morph slowly into something that’s somehow an actual friendship, that can be really interesting! And fun! And I love to see them being petty together, lol; I also love to see them commiserating over why is Jack Zimmermann such a dick, depending on circumstances. (… I suppose those two can be one at the same.)

So yeah, that’s fun, but Jack and Kent getting back to a place where they can be friends with each other? Where Jack’s not like ‘um Parson *abort* *ignore ignore*’ and Kent’s not tearing Jack into shreds at being rejected and they can have conversations and maybe some of those mutual apologies alluded to in Shinny and maybe ~closure,~ even? For the way ‘it just ended’? The idea of after years of wounds getting to put to rest the bad parts (cause I suspect their relationship was A Mess) and get back the good parts of one of your old best friendships again? It makes me more #emotional dammit than anything else about this comic.

(the lines I’ve been thinking about here, lately:i said i’d never miss you but i guess you never knowmay the bridges i have burned light my way back homeon the fourth of july~)

there’s something i can’t seem to reduce or explain any further about ‘may the bridges i have burned light my way back home’ that just GETS TO ME.

general opinions: SO MANY.

I love him. I mean, obviously. If one takes a look at my blog.

But, interestingly, I’m not quite sure why I don’t read him as abusive. (If anyone from Glee fandom remembers the way I was about Sebastian…!) Some of the things he says to Jack in Parse III - ‘you think you’re too fucked up to care about? That you’re not good enough? Everyone already knows what you are, but it’s people like me who still care’ - and ‘you’re scared everyone else is going to find out you’re worthless, right? Oh, don’t worry, just give it a few seasons, Jack, trust me’ - are ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY red flags, and I’ll throw down with anyone who says they aren’t. (I mean. I hate confrontation, so I probably won’t? but in theory.) Likewise, coming to Samwell/the Haus in the first place when he seems to know that Jack wouldn’t want to see him if he had a choice about it… is also an awful thing to do, if possibly understandable depending how you write the backstory and decision-making or lack thereof, but also a red flag!!!

I mean, basically, you can read ‘Parse III’ as literally one of the worst nights of his life, and when he’s behaving the worst, as something that’s not much of a pattern and so you shouldn’t judge him on it too harshly; or you can read it as HE IS SOMEONE WHO BEHAVES LIKE THIS, abort abort get away. I find trying to take what we see and still make someone sympathetic to be a much more interesting story, basically, and the bones of a very compelling one; but in my experience with other characters in other media who have triggered my own pattern matching to be ‘abort abort get away,’ I have utter sympathy and understanding for everyone who has him blacklisted to hell and back, and I’m actually still not sure why I don’t myself! (of course if I had reacted that way I wouldn’t be in this fandom at all, so I wouldn’t have much need to blacklist him… but ykwim.)

SO OKAY HM WHAT ELSE, cause if I’m listing all of my opinions on Kent Parson I could literally be here all night.

* ‘He never got over it’ may sound cruel but it just so happens to be the truest thing. Kent’s not really still in love with Jack (though I’m sure he was when they were both 18); he doesn’t really know him, hasn’t really seen or talked to him in seven-ish years, now. In which they’ve both changed. But Kent’s in all that time never managed a relationship with anyone else (… probably); never managed to reorient himself sufficiently away from the horrific failure that losing Jack in the particular way he did was. He never got over it isn’t just your stupid ass, Zimmermann, you’re not that great!, it’s the wound of finding your best friend and lover dying on the bathroom floor (or hearing about it later secondhand, that’s great too), it’s the wound of him not wanting to talk to you or hear what you have to say afterwards. How the fuck would you get over something like that.

* (so, I mean, that’s why I love Kent. His STORY is so much more INTERESTING than zimbits’ romcom or the smh team shenanigans; or, well, okay, it’s objectively a different flavor of emotions at least. And the higher drama and angst quotients there are infinitely more interesting to me.)

* I think he’s a good captain for the Aces, actually. I think he enjoys parties, getting to interact with lots of people, loves attention and flirting, etc. - and dancing/dance music too! - but I don’t think he’s ~partied~ in a problematic way since maybe his first year on the team. (Or if he has, it’s in a few isolated incidents.) He’s generally responsible trying to look out for his rookies and his teammates in trouble.

* AND OF COURSE HIS CAT, who is the love and light of his life, and also more popular on the internet than he is. There are tons of people who recognize Kit Purrson from her photos but have no idea who Kent is. He loves it, I’m sure. =^.^=.

* He is, however, really bad at controlling his own emotions. (Or should I say, himself.) It’s fine when this results in impulsive spending, cause he’s a multi-millionaire, it’s fine when this results in being ridiculous or gushing at people, and he IS actually able to keep secrets, though this would probably surprise most of the people who know him but not that well. (he’s not out yet, so.) But he says REALLY MEAN AND UNFAIR things to people he cares about when he feels rejected/abandoned (… I’m sure that time in Parse III is not the only time), so, that’s a problem, he knows it gets him into trouble, and I don’t think he’ll learn how to not until, um, THERAPY ~*~.

* HE IS SUCH AN ATTENTION WHORE THO. Also great at being ~charming. (see, e.g., the accountant sketch, as well as the epikegster) - and pretty genuine with it! He LIKES people!

* He is also a FUCKING MESS - possibly not in the #adulting sense, maybe he can feed himself, who knows, but, emotionally - I think he both longs for connection with people, and fears it going south, cause, well. The last guy he was in love with almost died (almost killed himself? I bet you couldn’t tell from the outside!) and then stopped talking to him. And very possibly also for reasons predating that incident, too. Cause if Kent had the sort of relationships he wants to have with people IN LAS VEGAS, then he wouldn’t have crashed the epikegster in the first place. So: lonely, and dealing with it poorly, no matter how well he’s doing otherwise. But not sad all the time. I think that’s all of the important things?

* (I’m not sure where the line between ‘opinions’ and ‘headcanons’ lies, so, yeah, I’m gonna cut myself off here. Maybe I’ll write ‘my list of random Parse headcanons’ next! Or maybe not, who knows. But I would LIKE to. Everyone wants to know how I imagine his sexuality, his family, etc., I’m sure; well okay, I want to write about it, anyway! Not only waiting till the times I’ve finished a fic!)

#camilliar #meme #omgcheckplease stuff #kent parson #hockey draco #anyone send me more characters if you'd like i love to go on and on #pimms #pimbits #tagging for bls etc

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