#then i worked there out of college for about a year and quit

[rmhashauthor]

"Fuck it, we ball" has done SO MUCH for me throughout my life.

"What if I don't get into college?" Fuck it, we ball.

"What if I don't get an A on this paper?" Fuck it, we ball.

"What if I don't get an interview?" Fuck it, we ball.

"What if I can't do this on my own?" Fuck it, we ball.

"What if he doesn't like me? I'll be alone forever!"

Fuck it. We ball.

"What if I ask for this raise and they say no?"

Fuck it, we ball.

"What if no one likes my books?"

Fuck. It. We. BALL.

Idk about y'all, but I'm too goddamn stubborn and annoying to quit. Fortunately, I also take immense glee from existing out of spite. It's been working for 35+ years, I'm gonna ride it into the ground until I hit bedrock.

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 9

Pairing: Bucky x Reader AU

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Attempted SA, Angst, language

A/N: So i have like 4 other parts done but i wanted to do more of an insight on Bucky and her relationship, so this is strictly just a chapter filled with Flashbacks!

P.S i do plan on updating my links to my masterlist & masterposts but links arent fricking working for me rn

1 Year ago

It was a Saturday night, and you, Bucky, Sam, and a few others had headed out to one of your favorite bars. The place was packed, neon lights casting a warm, vibrant glow over the tables and booths, music pulsing just loud enough to fill the space without drowning out conversation. After a few drinks, the energy in the room had settled into that perfect, cozy buzz.

You and Bucky were at the bar, leaning against the counter, laughing as you recounted a ridiculous story from your college days. He was right next to you, his arm resting on the bar behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. His gaze hadn’t left you, his blue eyes alight with that look he sometimes had—a mix of mischief and something softer, something that made your heart race.

“You’re the worst,” you say, shaking your head with a grin. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

He laughs, his hand brushing against your arm as he shifts closer, his voice low. “Oh, come on. You’re not that surprised. You know I’d do anything for a laugh, especially yours"

You roll your eyes warmth creeping up your neck to your cheeks, trying to ignore the thrill that sparks at the brush of his fingers. “You just like the attention, Barnes.”

He raises an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “And you don’t?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Please, I’m a saint compared to you.”

“Oh, really?” His grin widens, and he leans in, his face so close you can feel his breath against your cheek. “Guess we’ll have to see who’s the real troublemaker tonight, won’t we?”

For a moment, your breath catches, your heart pounding as you meet his gaze, feeling the air between you grow thick with anticipation. His hand lingers on the bar behind you, fingers inching just a little closer to your arm. You’re not sure if it’s the drinks, the atmosphere, or just the way he’s looking at you, but there’s a flicker of hope in your chest—a spark that maybe, just maybe, tonight could be different. Maybe this time, he might see you the way you see him.

Just as you’re about to say something, to lean into the moment a little more, Sam walks up, nudging Bucky with an all-too-knowing grin before tossing his arm over your shoulder.

“Hey, Buck,” Sam says, nodding toward the other end of the bar. “Girl over there by the corner table? She asked for your number.” Sam winks, then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “I just kept her friend busy for you, told her our little Stevie was single.”

You glance over to the area Sam pointed to, and sure enough, Steve gives you a polite smile while he’s in the middle of what seems to be a very animated conversation with a brunette.

Bucky pulls back slightly, and you feel the shift immediately, that warm intensity slipping away. He turns to glance over his shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips. “Did she now?” he asks, smirking at Sam.

Sam shrugs. “You know how it is. She’s cute too. Don’t keep her waiting.”

Bucky chuckles, then turns back to you, his gaze meeting yours, and there’s a glint in his eye—a playful lightness that makes your heart drop. “Well,” he says, his voice low, his eyes lingering on yours for just a beat too long, something swimming in those blue depths that you can’t quite decipher. “Duty calls.”

Your stomach twists, and you force yourself to smile, giving a small shrug as you try to brush it off. “Yeah, go work your charm,” you say, injecting as much playfulness into your voice as you can manage. “Wouldn’t want to keep the girl waiting.”

He stares at you for a second, almost like he wants to say something else, like he’s about to—but then he gives you a small, regretful smile, and the moment slips away. “Catch you in a bit,” he says, squeezing your shoulder before he turns and heads toward the girl waiting across the bar.

You watch him go, the hope you’d felt moments ago dissolving into something familiar—a quiet, persistent ache that you know all too well. As he laughs with the girl, you turn back to your drink, forcing a smile as you remind yourself that this is just the way it is. He’s Bucky, your best friend, and that’s all you’ll ever be.

Sam steps in front of you, raising an eyebrow. “If you want, I can be your wingman too. Can’t be that hard to find someone for you.”

You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head. “I’m good, Sammy. Thanks, though. I think I’m just gonna go over and gossip with the girls,” you say, nodding toward Natasha and Wanda, who seem deep in a debate about something.

He shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

You grab your beer and, with one last glance over your shoulder, your eyes meet Bucky’s. He’s looking at you again, even as the girl next to him leans in closer, talking animatedly. For a second, it’s just the two of you, caught in the kind of look that makes your heart ache with everything unsaid.

But then he blinks, turning back to the girl with a charming smile, and the spell is broken. You swallow hard, blinking back the sting of tears as you head toward Natasha and Wanda, already preparing to laugh and distract yourself from the quiet ache in your chest.

6 months ago

You and Bucky had the apartment to yourselves, waiting for the others to arrive for a long-promised game night. The coffee table was scattered with board games and cards, and you were already a couple of drinks in, feeling that familiar warmth that made everything just a little funnier, a little sweeter, a little more electric.

“Alright, your move,” you say with a grin, watching him frown as he studies the board like it’s the most serious puzzle in the world.

Bucky groans, running a hand through his hair. “You think you’re gonna beat me at this, but you’re dead wrong.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward. “Pretty sure I’m about to wipe the floor with you, Barnes.”

His eyes light up, and he leans forward to match your energy, his face only inches from yours. “Big talk for someone who’s two turns away from total disaster,” he teases, his voice low and playful. There’s a sparkle in his eye, something mischievous and warm, and for a split second, you wonder if you’re imagining it.

You laugh, taking another sip of your drink as you try to focus on the game instead of the way his gaze lingers on you. “I don’t know, you look pretty nervous to me,” you say, flicking a card onto the table. “Face it, Buck. I’m the game night champion.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I’d like to see you prove it.”

The banter flows easily, a familiar back-and-forth that makes your heart race in a way you can’t fully control. You’ve been friends for so long, but there are nights like this, nights where you’re alone, laughing, sharing drinks, and leaning just a bit closer than usual. Nights where you feel that little flicker of something more, and you wonder if maybe—just maybe—he feels it too.

As the game goes on, Bucky’s hand finds its way to the back of the couch, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. You’re hyper-aware of every small shift, every slight brush of his hand against your shoulder when he leans in to check the board, and your heart races each time, a small thrill sparking at the possibility that this could be… more.

Suddenly, he looks over at you, his face serious, his voice softer. “You know… we make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

Your breath catches, and for a second, you think you see something in his gaze—something that feels as real as the pounding in your chest, as tangible as the way his arm brushes against yours. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips, feeling bold and just tipsy enough to flirt back.

“Maybe,” you murmur, meeting his gaze. “But I think I’m the one carrying this team.”

Bucky laughs, a soft, warm sound, and he leans a little closer, his eyes locked on yours. “Is that so?”

Bucky’s voice is low, teasing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now. The playful edge in his grin softens, his gaze dipping briefly to your lips before flicking back up to your eyes. The space between you feels smaller, more intimate, and the usual banter takes on a weight that makes your pulse quicken.

You tilt your head slightly, your smile turning sly. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ve been carrying this whole operation.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling low in his chest, and then, almost without thinking, his hand shifts. His fingers brush against your knee, just a light, casual touch, but it sends a spark through you. You glance down briefly, then back up at him, your heart pounding.

“Well, maybe I just like letting you think you’re in charge,” Bucky says, his voice softer now, almost a murmur.

You can’t help but smile at that, leaning in just a fraction, testing the waters. “Oh, is that it? You’re just letting me win?”

“Maybe,” he replies, his hand sliding just a bit further along your knee, his thumb brushing gently against the fabric of your jeans. It’s subtle, but the warmth of his touch is undeniable.

Your breath catches, and you lean closer, your faces now only inches apart. His eyes flicker between yours, searching, and for a moment, it feels like the entire world has narrowed down to just the two of you. His hand moves from your knee, trailing up to lightly rest on your arm, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Bucky…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, but he cuts you off with a soft smile, his tone earnest.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be doing this with,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. “You know that, right?”

Your heart swells, the words hitting you in a way that feels both comforting and exhilarating. “Yeah,” you murmur, your voice shaky but steady. “I know.”

His hand drifts up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as his fingers graze your cheek. His gaze dips to your lips again, and you swear he’s leaning in. The air between you is electric, charged with everything you’ve never said but have always felt.

Just as his nose brushes against yours, the front door bursts open with a loud bang.

“We’re here!” Sam’s voice echoes through the apartment, followed by the sound of boots thudding on the floor.

You and Bucky pull apart instantly, the moment shattering as Steve, Natasha, and Wanda pile in behind Sam, all carrying snacks and drinks, their laughter filling the room.

Bucky lets out a quiet, frustrated sigh, his hand falling away as he leans back, plastering on a grin. “About time,” he calls out, his voice slightly strained. “Thought you guys got lost.”

Natasha raises an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you as she sets a bag of chips on the counter. “Interrupt something?” she asks, her tone playful but curious.

You quickly shake your head, forcing a laugh as you grab your drink. “Just Bucky losing at game night already.”

“Losing?” Bucky scoffs, giving you a pointed look that’s equal parts teasing and frustrated. “We both know who’s winning here.”

Natasha smirks but doesn’t push further, and soon everyone is settling in, chattering and laughing as the game night kicks off. But as you glance at Bucky across the room, catching the way his gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long, you can’t help but wonder what might have happened if you’d had just a few more minutes alone.

For the rest of the night, you can’t shake the lingering feeling, the memory of his voice, of that look in his eyes. It was just a moment—one small moment—but it was enough to spark the hope that maybe, just maybe, he feels it too.

2 Years ago

The apartment was still in chaos, boxes piled high and scattered across the floor, but it didn’t matter. You and Bucky sat in the middle of it all, the weight of the day settling into a calm, contented silence. The others had just left—Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Wanda had helped you haul everything up, cracking jokes and making the place feel alive. But now it was just you two, sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by your new life together.

Bucky let out a long breath, leaning back on his hands as he looked around. “We did it,” he said, a soft grin spreading across his face. “We finally did it, doll.”

You smiled, watching the way his eyes lit up despite the exhaustion written across his features. “Yeah, we did,” you said, your voice filled with quiet pride. “Out of that shithole town, finally graduated university… and now we’ve got our own place.”

“Our own place,” Bucky repeated, like he was tasting the words. He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Feels like we’ve been talking about this forever. And now we’re here.”

You nodded, leaning back against one of the boxes. “Feels kinda surreal.”

Bucky shifted closer, his knee brushing against yours, and you felt your heart skip a beat. His eyes softened as he looked at you, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “There’s no one else I’d rather do life with than you, you know that, right?”

His words sent a warm flutter through your chest, and you could barely breathe as his hand reached up, grazing your cheek lightly. His touch was soft, almost reverent, and for a moment, the air between you felt charged with something unspoken, something deeper.

You swallowed, leaning into his touch, your voice barely above a whisper. “Best friends for life,” you said, trying to keep your tone light even as your heart raced.

Bucky smiled, his thumb brushing against your skin for a second longer before he pulled his hand back. “Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on yours. “Or… something like that.”

For a moment, it felt like time slowed, the weight of his words hanging between you. You wondered if he felt it too, this quiet pull that seemed to draw you closer every time you were alone together.

But before you could say anything more, the buzzer rang loudly, breaking the spell. Bucky blinked, then let out a laugh, standing up quickly. “Must be the pizza,” he said, shooting you a grin as he walked over to the intercom.

You stayed where you were, heart still beating fast as you watched him, the warmth of his earlier words still lingering in the room. But of course, that's all it would ever do…linger.

High School Junior Year

The school hallways buzzed with the usual Friday afternoon energy. Lockers slammed, laughter echoed, and plans for the weekend floated through the air. You were at your locker, pretending to search for a book, but really you were just trying to hold it together. The tears that threatened to fall were barely contained, your heart still raw from the breakup that had blindsided you during lunch.

You’d thought he was different. Ryan, the quiet, sweet boy from your English class, had seemed so perfect. But today, he’d told you it wasn’t working, that he wanted to see other people, well that he already had been seeing other people, well that you caught him with said other person…..Trina.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. The lump in your throat only grew as you heard his laugh down the hall, carefree as if nothing had happened.

“Hey, you okay?” Natasha’s voice pulled you from your spiralling thoughts. She leaned casually against the locker next to yours, her sharp green eyes studying you.

You quickly wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. “Yeah, fine. Just tired.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Tired or heartbroken?”

You let out a shaky laugh, but before you could answer, Steve appeared, his face immediately softening when he saw you.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, glancing between you and Natasha.

“Ryan,” Natasha said bluntly, crossing her arms.

Steve’s face darkened, his usual calm demeanor shifting into protective mode. “That idiot. You want me to talk to him?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, Steve, please don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Before he could argue, Natasha’s gaze flicked down the hall. “Uh-oh. Here comes Bucky.”

Your stomach twisted as you turned to see Bucky walking toward you, hand in hand with Stacy, his girlfriend. Stacy was all smiles, tossing her long hair over her shoulder as she talked animatedly. Bucky’s expression softened the second he saw you, his sharp blue eyes narrowing with concern.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” Bucky said the moment he reached you, his voice low and familiar in a way that made your defenses crumble.

“I’m fine,” you lied, trying to brush past him. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Hey, wait—” Bucky grabbed your arm gently, his eyes searching yours. “What happened?”

“Bucky,” Stacy said, clearly annoyed, tugging on his hand. “We’re gonna miss the movie.”

Bucky ignored her, his full attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “It’s nothing. Just… Ryan cheated on me, okay? It doesn’t matter.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his gaze flicking over to where Ryan was laughing with his friends. His protective instincts kicked in immediately, but before he could say anything, you pulled your arm free.

“I just need to be alone,” you said, your voice cracking as you turned and rushed down the hall, ignoring the concerned calls from Steve and Natasha.

You made it outside, the cool autumn air biting against your skin as you walked aimlessly down the street, the tears falling freely now. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until a familiar voice called out.

“Hey, stop.”

You turned to see Bucky jogging toward you, his face filled with worry. Stacy was nowhere in sight.

“Bucky, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be with Stacy, its movie night"

“Forget Stacy, forget the stupid movie” he said, his voice firm as he closed the distance between you. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you broke down completely.

You clung to him, the weight of your heartbreak finally crashing over you. “Why does it hurt so much?” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

Bucky stroked your hair gently, his voice soft. “Because you cared. But you’re gonna be okay, doll. I promise.”

For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world disappeared. Bucky’s presence was steady and grounding, and for the first time that day, you felt like you could breathe again.

“Bucky!” Stacy’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. You looked up to see her standing a few feet away, her arms crossed, her face a mixture of anger and hurt. “What the hell is this?”

Bucky sighed, but he didn’t let go of you. “Stacy, not now.”

“Not now?” she repeated, her voice rising. “I’m your girlfriend, Bucky! And I’m so sick of being second to her.” She jabbed a finger in your direction, her voice trembling with frustration. “It’s always about her. You’re always running after her, putting her first.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened, and he finally released you, stepping forward. His voice was calm but firm. “Stacy, you knew how important she was to me when we started this. She’s my best friend.”

“She’s not just your best friend! Not the way i see it!” Stacy snapped, her eyes filling with tears. “If you’re not willing to put me first, then maybe we shouldn’t be together.”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, his face unreadable. Then he spoke, his voice steady and certain. “If it’s between you and her, Stacy, I’ll always choose her.”

Stacy’s face crumpled, and she let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head before turning and walking away, her footsteps echoing down the street.

Bucky stood there for a moment, watching her go, then turned back to you. His expression softened as he reached out, gently wiping a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You didn’t need to see that.”

You shook your head, your heart aching in a different way now. “Bucky, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “You’ve always been the most important person in my life. I’m not gonna let anyone change that.”

You stared at him, your heart full of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Finally, you managed a small, shaky smile. “Best friends for life, right?”

Bucky’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he nodded. “Yeah, doll. Best friends for life.”

And for that moment, it was enough.

University Year 2

The air was thick with the mingling scents of bonfire smoke, cheap beer, and the faint tang of weed. Laughter and music drifted through the clearing, blending into a chaotic symphony that pulsed through the crowd. The college bush party was in full swing, and you'd thought being here with your friends-and Nick-would be a good way to unwind.

But now, you were far from the warm glow of the fire, your back pressed against the rough bark of a tree as Nick leaned in, his hands sliding lower and lower. At first, you didn't think much of it. A kiss here, a touch there. But then his hands started to roam places you weren't ready for.

"Nick, no... I'm not ready," you murmured, pulling back slightly.

"Come on," he whispered, his lips brushing against your neck, ignoring your words. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer. "We've been together for a month. You trust me, right?"

You stiffened, your heart starting to race-not with excitement, but with unease. "Nick, I'm serious. Stop," you said, your voice firmer now.

But he didn't stop. His hands moved to your chest, squeezing, and you froze for a moment, shock and panic locking you in place.

"I said no!" you shouted, your voice shaking as you shoved at his chest.

He barely budged, his grip tightening.

"Relax," he muttered, his tone annoyed now. "Stop being so uptight."

Fear and anger surged through you, and you pushed harder, your voice cracking. "Get off me!"

Before he could respond, Nick was suddenly yanked backward, ripped away from you with such force that he stumbled and fell to the ground. "What the hell?" Nick gasped, but his words were cut off as

Bucky loomed over him, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with fury. "She said no," Bucky growled, his voice low and deadly as he grabbed Nick by the collar. "You don't fucking touch her when she says no."

Without waiting for a response, Bucky's fist connected with Nick's face, the crack of bone meeting bone cutting through the night. Nick's head snapped back, and he let out a strangled curse, but Bucky didn't stop. He landed another punch, his face twisted with rage.

"Bucky, stop!" you cried, your voice trembling as you stumbled forward, tears streaming down your face. "Please, stop!"

Nick raised his arms in a feeble attempt to shield himself. "What the fuck, man? Get off me!" he shouted, his voice muffled by Bucky's relentless assault.

The commotion quickly drew attention. Steve appeared out of nowhere, his face a mix of confusion and alarm as he grabbed Bucky's shoulders, yanking him off of Nick. "Buck, what the hell are you doing?" Steve demanded, holding him back.

Bucky's chest heaved, his fists still clenched, his knuckles already bruised. "He wouldn't stop, Steve," Bucky spat, his voice raw with fury. "She told him to stop, and he wouldn't fucking stop."

Steve froze, his eyes darting to you. The second he saw your tear-streaked face, his expression shifted, the anger fading into something colder, sharper. "Is that true?" he asked softly, his voice low.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as a fresh wave of tears spilled over. Steve's jaw tightened, his fists clenching as he turned back to Nick, who was still lying on the ground, blood trickling from his nose. "You piece of shit," Steve muttered, starting to step forward.

Bucky caught Steve's arm, holding him back this time. "Don't," Bucky said, his voice steadier now but no less dangerous. "He's not worth it."

Nick groaned, sitting up and wiping at his nose. "You're both fucking crazy," he muttered, staggering to his feet. "All this for some prude?"

Bucky's grip on Steve tightened, but he stayed rooted in place as Nick continued. "She's not worth it," Nick sneered, his voice laced with bitterness. "A month of dating, and she won't even put out? She's not even that hot. Stupid bitch."

You flinched at his words, but before you could react, Bucky's jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. He turned on his heel, closing the distance between you in two quick strides. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. "It's okay," Bucky murmured, his voice soft now, his hand cradling the back of your head. "You're safe. I've got you."

You broke down completely, your hands clutching at his shirt as sobs wracked your body. His hold was steady, grounding, and you felt the tension in your chest start to ease, even as the pain of Nick's words lingered.

Steve, meanwhile, kept his eyes locked on Nick, his expression cold. "You need to leave. Now," Steve said, his voice like steel.

Nick scoffed, spitting blood onto the ground. "Whatever," he muttered, turning and staggering away into the darkness.

Steve let out a breath, his fists slowly unclenching as he turned back to you and Bucky. "You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded weakly, your voice barely audible. "I will be."

Bucky tightened his hold on you, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. "You'll never have to go through that again," he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. "I promise."

Bucky continued to hold you, his hand gently stroking your hair as your breathing began to even out. His heart was still racing beneath your cheek, but his touch was steady, grounding you as the fear and panic slowly ebbed away. For a long moment, the two of you stood there, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet comfort, the distant sounds of the party fading into the background.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him. His face was softer now, the sharp edges of his anger replaced with a quiet concern that made your chest ache. “Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of sincerity. “For everything.”

Bucky’s eyes searched yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he gave you a small, gentle smile. He reached up, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

Your heart swelled at his words, the weight of them settling over you in a way that felt both comforting and overwhelming. You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah… I know.”

Bucky held your gaze for a moment longer, his hand lingering on your cheek before he finally let it fall. He glanced over at Steve, who stood a few feet away, still watching you both with quiet concern.

“You good?” Steve asked, his tone softer now.

You nodded again, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah… I think so.”

Steve gave a small nod, his jaw still tight, but he didn’t push further. “Let’s get you home,” he said. “This party’s over.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close as the three of you made your way back toward the clearing. The warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in his presence, reminded you once again that with him by your side, you were never truly alone.

And as you walked away from the chaos of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a little more whole, knowing that no matter what, Bucky would always have your back

[intothedysphoria]

Billy crawls out of the Upside Down in the end. In theory it isn’t hell but that doesn’t explain why some prick kept playing Agadoo.

He feels stronger now. It’s not like he’s been able to work out in a nightmare dimension but killing monsters must have made a fine substitute. His hearing, eyesight, smell. Everything is elevated.

The thirst for human blood is new.

Neil is the first to die. Bummer. He was hiding out in Texas somewhere, but Billy knew it was him.

Billy doesn’t fully remember but he’s pretty sure he kills Karen too. Maybe a cop.

It makes him feel shockingly revitalised. Like the Sunday roasts that would wait for him after Church on a Sunday, before the move to America.

That whole damned thing is bullshit though. Billy can wear his pendant just fine.

Seeing the state of his Camaro is the first time in over a year where he actually cries. The state it’s in. Undrivable.

The twenty pack he hid in the glovebox is still intact. Smoking doesn’t give him the same buzz anymore annoyingly. He just does it out of habit.

A hum of conversation makes Billy’s ears perk up. He chases the route of the conversation to it’s source and sees him. Steve.

He’s dragging a carcass of one of those hell monsters over his back, talking to Buckley and Munson. They all have their heads buried together and snippets of conversation drift over to Billy’s hiding spot.

“Neil Hargrove…………throat torn out……..”

“No it definitely wasn’t a demodog”

“Who in the fuck could have done this?”

Steve’s still beautiful. He always will be. Being covered in blood isn’t a dealbreaker for Billy, far from it. His big, brown eyes are darting around, staring down corners and alleyways. He’s got hair on his chest now which is intriguing. And he’s wearing a jacket with patches on, which is more so.

Billy remembers the last time they talked. The night before the thing got him. Steve had been on his lap, playing with his jacket lapels and they’d been talking about college.

Steve had kissed Billy and told him they would never be brought apart. Ironic.

He waves away Buckley and Munson and walks back down the street, whistling a grim little tune to himself. Billy’s a madman so he follows.

The logistics of climbing up into Steve’s bedroom are shockingly easy. It’s a matter of seconds before Billy’s climbing through the window and Steve’s staring at him with a baseball bat clutched in his hands.

“HOLY SHIT!”

Yeah, holy shit works.

Steve creeps closer to him, cautious but curious. Billy permits himself to be inspected, Steve looking this way and that until he’s convinced he’s not hallucinating.

“Is it…………..I mean, is it really you Billy?”

Billy makes an attempt at smiling, which is really quite hard with a set of fangs that don’t want to retract yet.

They also make it pretty hard to talk, so Billy just gestures to his pendant.

Steve’s still suspicious. Billy doesn’t blame him. He smells scared and two years ago Billy didn’t even know that fear had a smell.

When he does answer, it feels clumsy. Billy’s voice is raw and hoarse and unused to communicating with humans, rather than bats.

“Harrington”

That seems to seal the deal for Steve.

He practically leaps into Billy’s arms, kissing all over his face and Billy can hear his elevated heart rate. Blood rushing.

If it had been anyone else, bar Max and the weird kid that had saved him, Steve probably would have been dinner. As it was, Billy just pulled Steve down onto the bed, soothed by the familiarity.

Steve lies there, in his arms and finally stills, asleep. Billy doesn’t know how this is going to work, this relationship, finding Max, how he was going to feed.

Those were tomorrow’s problem. For now, Billy had the love of his life back and he was happy once again.

@shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @oopsiedaisiesbaby @harringroveobsessed @thatgirlwithasquid

(The person playing Agadoo on repeat was totally Steve in s4)

[pomefioredove]

um um. the nbc boys with a reader thats smart and learns easily but has trouble keeping up with the school system(? for lack of better words). they get distracted and bored easily, forget about homework, doodle on their papers and stare out the window, etc. they get great test scores and do exceptionally well when they are interested in what they’re learning, but otherwise get burned out really quick. i don’t know much about your nbc but it seems like the system is pretty fast paced and doesn’t really leave room for mistakes! 🫶🫶 i love your designs for nbc so far. can already tell the readers gonna have a blast (and a migraine)

my first ever noble bell oc request... rubs my hands together evilly

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ no room for mistakes (noble bell college)

inspired by my AU

type of post: headcanons characters: rollo, original characters; pierrot, bou, phoenix, clodio additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Rollo Flamme will arrange a precise time to study with you every day, whether you ask him or not. it's within his best interest that you succeed at Noble Bell (heavens forbid you're shipped off to a lesser, simpler arcane academy like that terrible Night Raven College), and so there will be no room for mistakes. this isn't something you should take for granted, either; Rollo is a very busy man, and to have an hour of his time for him to tutor you is a privilege. at least, that's what everyone else will tell you

to Rollo, this is nothing. he would make his whole weekend for you, if you asked. perhaps his whole life

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pierrot Gregoire is probably the last person you should be going to for help. yes, he's exceptionally intelligent in the ways of history and literature, and yes, he could lecture you for hours longer than your actual professor does, but I doubt you would actually get anything but a headache out of it. he's a poet, not a tutor, and he has a tendency to talk himself in circles, go on tangents, anecdote about his personal life... yeah. it would take a special sort of mind to keep up with him, otherwise, you're probably better off trying to make sense of his unorganized class notes... which are just as full of doodles and daydreams as yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Bou de Neige is known for making harsh judgments about his peers... which are often accurate. and so he can tell, by the way you talk and articulate and express, that you're not a blithering idiot. you only lack the discipline that the typical Noble Bell College student has. and if it weren't for Rollo's faith in you, and his own damned pity, Bou would have been happy to let you fail...

...but he doesn't. he sits next to you in classes and pinches your arm when you're dozing off, or not paying attention to something important. he leers over you and corrects the mistakes on your homework before you turn it in. he begins carrying clean paper for you to doodle on, and insists it's nothing (it's so over for him)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Phoenix Bussiere is not what I would call a trustworthy tutor. he's not even a trustworthy student. oh, but don't think he wouldn't love to waste a few hours every week "helping you study" while he vandalizes 500 year old wood desks and falls asleep in the library. he's way too eager to volunteer. and how can you say no? his attention is highly valuable; the jealous glares of other students make that obvious. and perhaps you wouldn't have minded working alone, without anyone breathing down your neck... except he doesn't let you. he couldn't care less about the homework, but he'll ask you a thousand questions about yourself

...you can never quite tell if he actually cares, or if he's just passing the time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

if you think Clodio LeFou would be the worst of the group, you'd be very wrong. is it chaotic? yes. but he'll teach you Latin while hanging upside down (and he's really quite good at it). he's managed to get by at Noble Bell without raising any eyebrows, after all, and his grades certainly reflect that. he'll act out your history lessons and critique your writing assignments like a professional. he'll make a puppet just to teach you math. it's unconventional, especially for Noble Bell, but it's much better than the dry lectures from your professors. you'll take what you can get

[molotoph]

I feel sick. This is fucking horrible and incredibly tone deaf… I really have sam the benefit of the doubt despite knowing he’s a nepo baby whose father worked for Bill Clinton. Afaik the two times dropout spoke out as a company were in regards to George Floyd’s murder and the rampant escalation of AAPI hate crimes following&during Covid. It’s “unsustainable” now?! He wants to “play a civilian” but he’s not just a civilian like us. He’s a CEO. D20 especially is explicitly anti fascist and dropout built a lot of its platform off providing a space where a diverse community of all those who would fight for a better world feel like we can have silly guy watch tv time and relax while still being seen in our media. People like stories and we’re people and we need stories.

I’m so… does he like not understand how much worse he made it sound. How much he didn’t bail the mods out of this by defending these actions? Your father was in the White House during the Clinton administration but the concept of the Balfour Accord and the history of a tightening noose that came after it is “too complicated” for you?! I’m an actual college dropout. I’ve been unemployed for years with philosophy skills nobody wants without running me through the higher education pay to play endurance gauntlet of college and grad school. It sure as shit ain’t too complicated for me to understand what fascism is, what it does, how to recognize it, and how to fight what mandatory participation in it our government rips from us. How we can’t just not pay taxes or stop working because we are not CEOs, we are civilians. How the term “civilian” is a fragile and flimsy agreement between the working class and the ruling class that could turn to devour us gleefully and brutally any moment it pleases, rendering us martyrs (dead) and terrorists (alive.)

Concern for Israelis? Concern for people in a colonial fascist empire waking up and realizing they have to fight knowing what ghouls do to their enemies and knowing it will NEVER be as barbaric for them as it is for Palestinians. I feel concern for my American comrades in a country that for the record to his father’s statements on voting, was already fascist, Robert, there is no freedom on the line to choose, there was just the caste stratified levels of protection from the full reality of being considered outside of whiteness completely, and even white people who choose to leave and who ally nearly without flaw KNOW they will never truly see the same hell. I do not feel more concerned for labeling someone pro-genocide and it making them think or confront themselves. I am not here to dispense moral purity certificates for other white and/or Jewish people in other imperial cores like me. I do not care. There is no time and that is not how we cultivate moving into direct action and in loving each other and caring about each other as human beings waking up.

Bugles is owned by General Mills, which as a corporation that handles the production of among other things chocolate, has been under investigation for child labor and slavery abuses against mankind, and has recently been sued by workers for its practices: “Cereal giant General Mills is facing a federal lawsuit filed by several of its Black employees who claim that one of the company’s plants in Georgia has “embraced a racially hostile work environment” controlled by “white supremacists.”

Race IS Bugles’ fucking business because they made it their business to be racist. Liberal corporate rainbow washing or black washing or green washing like Bo talks about is what consumers generally understand about these things, so it can look irrelevant and pandering when corporations try to virtue signal about issues they have no intention of addressing and the harm of which they directly contribute to, but from the business side it looks quite different. Sam’s on the business side.

Politics is everything when fascists make our lives and our existences and freedom explicitly forbidden by their praxes. When their praxes kill us on purpose and en masse. And nobody targeted by these forms of dehumanization wanted their life as a finite reality to be made someone else’s politics. They didn’t DO anything to cause fascists’ ire— other than establish their own humanity and the boundaries and rights of being human. There is no acceptable amount of humanity to destroy in order to make members of a death cult feel comfortable because they’re uncomfortable being human and nothing we do can ever make them feel comfortable while death spiral ideologies rule them.

Does Sam KNOW there are nazizio who watch dropout that would pull their funding? Why would he want their money? Does he think we or his staff or actors wouldn’t understand scaling back and grassroots fundraising for taking one of THE MOST BASIC STANDS POSSIBLE IN HUMAN HISTORY, AGAINST THE MOST DOCUMENTED GENOCIDE IN HUMAN HISTORY?

This is who my stupid tucchus gave the benefit of the doubt to?

Sam you work with people who are a lot smarter and a lot less liberalpilled than you are. Take the fucking hint that you don’t need to walk on eggshells about not wanting to be associated with genociders, and that delicate footing is more ominous of who you have let be in the crowd with us than anything else. We gathered here because of trust for our safety, because anarchist etc. storytelling spaces are sorely needed and hard to find and difficult to protect.

This isn’t like. A game. We aren’t kidding.

Free Palestine, Free Lebanon, Free Yemen, Free Congo, Free Sudan.

What the fuck.

@dropoutdottv ‘s newest episode of Dirty Laundry platforms Noah Grossman, a liberal Zionist who has shown public love of and endorsement of the isrotten terrorist and American imperial projects.

Proof and sources https://x.com/HorrorHijabi/status/1790749434822672600

[gotskamstuff]

Can I also shed light on something that is so problematic in the OBX production?

How did they manage to get THE BIGGEST plot point ever of the entire show in 5 years of work… leaked like that on the same day they filmed it? (‘cause boy there rumors we didn’t want to believe have been here since the cast was still in Morocco)

The unprofessionalism clearly is rampant in the entire production ‘cause that is insane, we’re not taking about a small independent production, this a massive Netflix production that should have a certain level of secrecy, this is honestly one of the reasons why at first I found it hard to believe those rumors, how could they possibly know? IT’S NETFLIX!

When I started to believe the rumors and A LOT of people were coming forward saying they knew it from reliable sources, I legit thought that it was because the scene was shot in front of quite a few background actors, around people in Morocco who could’ve seen it with their own eyes.

When I tell you my astonishment as I realized in the past few days that the scene was actually shot in what seems like a secluded location with only the main actors and main crew on set. It’s crazy to think that for this to have been leaked so quickly and rampantly it means that it got out from someone working very closely in the production of the show or someone very close to the ones who do, who else could’ve known?

Some people are going around saying “Rudy told everyone in Morocco he was leaving”…but quite frankly if you believe that you are Boo Boo the fool, I know we’re mad at him at the moment but this is an insane speculation and incredibly hard to believe, who in the right mind says something like that to strangers? He would’ve been fined by the network for probably 10 times his paycheck.

The fact that someone working on the show or someone close to them was able to leak something like this so quickly and freely is so problematic. What other big Netflix production has ever had any massive plot like that leaked like this? None.

This show has been fumbling BIG TIME for so many reasons also revolving the production and this post is already long enough as it is, but maybe I will explain another time how much I believe that even a lot of the bullshit and drama happening behind the scene with the cast was to some degree the producers fault for how they handled things from day one.

They always treated this massive Netflix production as if they were working on their independent college project with their friends.

[liquidorcard]

HEY Y'ALL IT'S MIKAILER WITH AN "ER" WHY IS THAT SO HARD TO GRASP!?

---

Did I get your attention, Mikaila? I hope so, let's see.

Mikaila, I don't like you. You've done shit that's soured my opinion of you. I'm acknowledging that now to get that out of the way. I'm not here to be two-faced about this or blow smoke up your ass.

But as one idiot who stayed in a toxic relationship to another-- I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better. I know. Being in a relationship like that brings out some ugly shit. You resent and fear people will never forgive you. You don't know if you will forgive yourself. I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better than you.

And it feels kinda good, being treated badly? In a weird way? When you're used to it? When you feel you kind of deserve it? It did for me too. My abuser did some fucked up shit to me. I don't know how to describe to you the strange feelings I'm left with now. Sometimes I think I finally hate her, sometimes, as pathetic as it makes me feel, I still miss her. It's a rot in you that never really goes away, but you learn to live with it. I understand that agony. I understand that anger of how fucking unfair it is.

You know my opinion of Lily. You're not going to trust me that I'm not saying all this just to get you two to break up to hurt her. Fair. Very fair, not going to pretend like it's not. But if Lily loves you, nothing I'm about to say should be an issue. She should want what's best for you, right?

Here's the rub Mikaila, it's been a few years now. I know you want out of your situation at home, but it doesn't seem like Lily's going to be able to help you with that at this point. I'm sure Lily's given you plenty of reasons as to why, and it's time to listen to her.

If you're heart's set on coming to Canada, your best bet is getting a job here. Or even, going to school. Art degrees (Here in Canada) aren't as expensive, provided you go to the right school. Even taking out a student loan for just one year to figure your shit out. I know you're in quite a bit of debt right now and don't want to get into more, but. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Here's the college I went to. Yes, your work is sufficient to potentially get admitted. Believe it or not, art school's get that illustration is a learned skill. Artists start from all different levels:

Look through the admissions requirements to see if you have the academic records to be admitted. If not, you could also consider upgrading through online classes aswell.

Again though, your best bet is to try to find employment. The cost of living isn't great here right now, but it isn't great anywhere. I doubt you'll be able to find cheaper rent in America.

Once you're here or wherever you end up, away from the chaos of your home, you might find it a lot easier to get your head around, establishing some better independence and becoming a citizen by yourself. It's a shitty process, but not as bad as the one you guys have in the States. We stan an immigrant here.

You need to look out for you, Mikaila. It's not selfish. It's not a matter of whether you "really deserve it or not." Nobody's going to save you. You're emotionally spent because of your parents, You're emotionally spent because of Lily. And it feels kind of nice how much Lily needs you. But you can't help her until you help yourself - and again, if we're all wrong and Lily really loves you, she shouldn't have a problem with you finding your way.

My own mother once told me I was "born sad." I've never not hated myself. I ate up any little bit of love and validation no matter how many bitter, razor pills that came with it too. That's just how it is for some of us.

But you know what Mikaila? Fuck em. Fuck all of them. Fuck everything. Fuck me, Mikaila. You've got one life. One body. One you. Whatever you think of her, someone's gotta fight for that poor bitch. Why not you fight for you?

Everyone's a stinky meat bag stripped down, Mikaila. Everyone's made a fool in the wake of the shit people like you and I have been through. Not everyone's going to be able to forgive everything, but everyone's not wholly past forgiveness.

I'm no better than you Mikaila. Nobody is. Some of us just get to know the worst sides of ourselves better than others.

I don't like some of the things you've done, girl. But I see you. I get it. Tell us all to eat shit. Fix your life. Don't rely on Lily to make you feel whole or to save you. To make you feel worthy. No person can do that. She could be the reincarnation of Mary Mother of God herself, and you couldn't expect that from her. Be your own advocate. If your relationship isn't toxic, it can survive you becoming a more whole you.

This asshole is rooting for you. Give me an excuse to undoomer "Mikailer." My girl needs a win.

[cheynovak]

The Beach City Reunion

Summary: Follows up fanfiction 'Spikes' Y/N returns to the beach city grill after 5 years. Meeting Priestly who has been going through a break up with Tish.

Warning: none

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Likes/Share/Comments are appreciated.

Y/N hadn’t set foot in Beach City Grill in five years. The place looked mostly the same—faded posters of bands on the walls, the familiar hum of music in the background, and the faint smell of fries and grilled burgers wafting through the air. But as she walked in, scanning for any trace of the old Priestly, her eyes caught on someone who almost looked like him… but not quite.

He was wearing a plain blue button-down shirt, his once vibrant, spiked hair now a subdued shade of brown with a matching beard, smoothed down to an almost painfully ordinary style. She blinked, wondering if she was imagining things.

“Priestly?!” she called out, half-questioning, half in disbelief.

He turned, and when he saw her, his face lit up like a firework. Before she could react, he was around the counter, pulling her into a warm hug.

“Y/N!” he said, grinning. “Wow, look at you! You’ve… changed!” She laughed, pulling back to look at him. “Me? Look at you! W-what happened?”

They slipped into one of the booths, and for a moment, Y/N couldn’t stop staring. She missed the wild, bold Priestly she’d once adored, and this version of him looked like he’d been smothered in beige.

He gave her a sheepish look, glancing down at his shirt. “Tish happened. She, uh, liked me better like this. Thought I should look ‘respectable’—whatever that means. I guess she thought I was only worth dating if I, well, dressed ‘normal.’ So I tried it for her, figured it was worth it if it made her happy.”

Y/N listened quietly, seeing a flicker of embarrassment and something else—something lost—in his eyes.

“Anyway,” he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “we broke things off a couple of months ago. She said I’d come back ‘begging for another chance,’ but… I don’t think that’s gonna happen. I realized I just don’t know who I am anymore. Lost myself somewhere along the way.”

She nodded, giving him a small, understanding smile. “Sometimes, you think someone’s worth changing for. But if it means you stop being you…” She trailed off, knowing he’d get it.

Priestly chuckled, a hint of his old spark showing through. “Yeah, funny to hear that coming from you."

She grinned, and he noticed a faint edge of her old punk style still shining through—rings on her fingers, a subtle black eyeliner that gave her an edge, But the spiked choker was gone and changed for a leather jacket.

“So,” he said, leaning in with a warm smile, “what about you? How’s life been since you flew the coop?”

She shrugged, feeling a mix of nostalgia and excitement bubble up. “A lot’s changed. I went to college, didn't finish, moved around a bit. I’ve grown up, well a little. Showed up at your doorstep.”

Priestly gave her a look—one of admiration, maybe even a touch of envy. “I’m glad you came back. You look good, Y/N. Like… like you didn’t lose yourself along the way, you grew, literally and figuratively, I like it.”

She felt her cheeks heat, but she kept her gaze steady. “Priestly, the guy who always makes a girl feel special." She smiles softly before adding, "I aways thought you were amazing just the way you were.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in a long time, he looked like he believed her.

“Maybe it’s time to bring a little of that guy back,” he said, giving her a lopsided grin. “The boring brown hair and button-downs were never really me anyway.”

They both laughed, the sound filling the grill as if nothing had changed at all. And as they sat there, catching up and reconnecting, Priestly felt like he was finally waking up from a long, colorless dream.

Y/N could feel Tish’s glare burning into them as she leaned across the counter to pay, with a mischievous smile. “Why don’t I take you shopping after your shift?” she suggested, tapping her fingers playfully on the countertop. “It’d be nice to catch up… and maybe ditch the corporate look. Show a little more of those tattoos again?”

Priestly glanced at Tish, who was shooting them daggers from across the room, and then shrugged with a little smile. “Yeah, yeah, why not?” he replied, his eyes lighting up. “I’ll see you at five.”

By the time they hit the first store, Y/N was buzzing with excitement. She dragged Priestly to every section, picking out things that she knew he would’ve rocked a few years back. A leather jacket here, a pair of torn jeans there. She even managed to dig up a kilt, holding it out with a grin that made him snort.

“Y/N,” he said, chuckling as he held the kilt up in disbelief, “I can’t wear this. Not anymore. I feel like a kid playing dress-up.”

Y/N’s grin softened. “You’re in your thirties, Priestly. Maybe a kilt isn’t the answer anymore,” she admitted, leaning against the wall of the dressing room. She looked at him thoughtfully, eyes gleaming with an idea. “But… do you trust me?”

He raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Alright. Go ahead, show me what you’ve got.”

Y/N set the kilt aside and walked over to a different rack, pulling out a pair of dark, well-fitted jeans and handing him a plain grey t-shirt. She added a pair of heavy black combat boots and a leather jacket to the ensemble. “Just try these,” she said, “I think you’ll be surprised.”

Priestly emerged from the dressing room a few minutes later, his expression shifting from skepticism to something closer to acceptance. He turned to her, hands stuffed in his pockets, giving her a shy, crooked grin. “Not bad, right?”

“Oh wow, not bad at all,” Y/N said, giving him a once-over feeling her cheeks burn. The jeans hugged his frame well, and the boots added a sturdy, rugged vibe. The t-shirt was simple, but it all brought back a hint of the old Priestly’s edge without trying too hard.

But she wasn’t done yet. “Alright,” she said with a wink, “one last stop.”

She drove him to a nearby barber she’d found online, and before he could protest, she leaned close, whispering her instructions into the barber’s ear.

"Oh and keep the beard." she said walking back outside. Priestly gave her a mock look of fear, but he settled into the chair, trusting her, despite his nerves.

A half hour later, Priestly emerged from the barber’s chair with his hair freshly styled. The sides were clipped short, but the top was left a little longer and tousled. No more mohawk, but it was still a look with personality—classic yet cool, modern but still a bit rebellious.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, running a hand through his hair, and let out a slow breath.

--

Y/N's heart hammered as she watched Priestly walk toward her, his new look transforming him into a vision of the guy she’d fallen for as a teenager—familiar but grown up, rugged and effortlessly cool. She felt her old crush flare to life, burning through her like it had all those years ago. But now, she was older, and so was he, and the spark between them didn’t feel so impossible anymore.

While he’d been getting his hair cut, she’d slipped out to pick up a few finishing touches—things that would bring back a hint of the punk style they’d once shared. As he approached, she held out a heavy, silver chain and a studded leather belt. With a grin, she hooked the chain to his jeans, her fingers brushing against him as she added the belt.

But then, she pulled out something else—a small, worn leather bracelet with faded band logos, the same one he’d given her years ago in the Beach City Grill. She held it up, a little shy but determined, and carefully slipped it back onto his wrist, fingers lingering on the familiar worn leather.

Priestly looked down, his eyes widening. “You… you kept it?” His voice was soft, filled with something she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N nodded, feeling her cheeks heat as she looked up, meeting his gaze. “Of course I did. You were... well, it was special to me.” she said almost looking nervous.

Priestly looked at her, "How old are you now?" She still looked at him, his green eyes piercing her waiting for an answer. "I- Eh... 21." Priestly looked over her in the distance, clearly counting in his head.

They stood there in silence, the air thick while she waited for his reaction, still holding his wrist in her hands, feeling something electric. Her heart pounded so loudly she thought he must be able to hear it.

But before her nerves could make her say something stupid, Priestly reached out, cupping the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair pulling her closer.

He leaned down, his gaze searching hers for a split second, and then his lips brushed against hers, soft and warm, then deeper, like he’d been waiting for this moment as long as she had. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them—two people who’d found their way back to each other after years apart.

Y/N knew that what she had been waiting for ever since she was 16 was finally here. Priestly saw her, not as a teenage girl with a crush. But as a woman.

When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, still holding her close. "I did say 'maybe in a few years' didn't I?"

She laughed softly, feeling her heart swell.

“Welcome back, Priestly.”

--

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[66sharkteeth]

I feel like in the college au Jericho would meet Claude’s parents pretty early bc they’d keep insisting that Claude brings him to family dinner, and it takes like a year tops for them to start treating him like he’s also their son and Claude gets embarrassed but Jericho just short circuits because why have his boyfriend’s parents said they love him more than his own mother has

ohohohoh, i've actually talked about this a bit before (in the CoB discord server) and actually it's quite the opposite!

Keep in mind, Claude and Jericho are on-again-off-again a lot before they finally start dating steadily enough for Claude to ever bring him around to his family. Jericho puts him through a lot of heartbreak before they finally work things out for good.

Claude's family has always been supportive of his relationships and any guy he brings around, but when it came to Jericho, they're very cold and unwelcoming to him. Jericho is convinced it's a class thing so frankly isn't on his best behavior around them either, thinking they just don't like their son dating someone who came from poverty.

however, when he finally confronts them about it, they tell him they just don't like him because he was a dick to Claude. They've known about all the break ups and drama he's put Claude through and refuse to welcome him because of that.

I do think after many years he finally wins them over, but it absolutely takes some time to prove himself first.

[evenmorecrows]

hi excuse me i got carried away. these were originally tags but uhhhh it got. long. so into the reblog proper it goes. i ended up just fully describing my modern au.

for the record this is all off the top of my head so its not all entirely fleshed out

origins protags:

hiram amell would be in college to be like. a neurosurgeon and play warhammer with whatever time he can scrounge up. meets loghain there and they beef especially because hiram keeps finding stupid ridiculous ways to beat him when loghain is like. the most decorated player in their community. that guy is a warhammer 40k legend.

i feel like he doesnt have the time or energy to really get fast food enough to have a favorite, ironically. he lives off of tv dinners and the cheapest + strongest coffee he can find.

ive also been turning around the idea of modern hiram having been a foster child to duncan (this doesnt really come up here but i do imagine duncan being a military veteran) in his later teens which is what gives him the financial ability to actually pursue college. meets alistair that way who was also taken in as a foster and then officially adopted a year before hiram entered the picture. i dont know if i want duncan to die early on i want these boys to have a dad.....

anyway alistair and hiram are probably roommates while hirams in college? idk if alistair would be in college too. maybe try it bc of the expectation but end up having to drop out? hm.

gunnr brosca is younger daughter to her norwegian immigrant mother who came to america for a man only to be left when she became pregnant with rica. this began their mothers downward spiral into both poverty and alcohol and soon enough there was no chance of her getting home. so both rica and gunnr were born in america.

gunnr works under the table to not bring attention to their family. not always taking legal jobs. really just whatever she could get to keep them afloat despite the hole in their saving from their mothers drinking habits. gunnr feels a lot of disdain towards their mother for the situations she's put them in (put rica in especially) and the life they live

rica does sex work and hopes to marry rich so she can lift them out of poverty. gunnr hates that she has to. hates the men that leer at her sister. pretty 1-to-1 translation of ingame brosca origin.

a job gunnr takes goes wrong and lands her in hot water and her best bet is to take the money she has to her own name and get the hell out of dodge. she doesnt want to leave rica alone but rica encourages her to go.

and so she goes on over to britain. she takes less risky but still under the table jobs from there out because im deciding she somehow got in through criminal means and definitely does not have the papers or documentation to be there. god knows what their mother did with their birth certificates or social security numbers but i think neither gunnr or rica has ever seen hide nor hair of either document so like yknow. gunnr barely exists.

also im calling it that duncan is just not important to gunnr's whole story or existence. if hes there its only by proxy of alistair.

hey speaking of alistair. idk how they meet. something casual like outside a bar or through a friend of a friend of a friend when something like. breaks in the apartment he has w hiram and the landlord wont fix this and one of alistairs friends is like. i know a guy who knows a guy who knows this woman. ill put you in contact. and alistairs like. Ohhhkay. kinda shady but. alright.

she comes over to fix it. he gets himself a little crush almost immediately. shes neutral about him at first but when he kinda stumbles over himself to exchange numbers she teases him like. oh in case this breaks again huh? but is kinda begrudgingly endeared and goes along w it.

strangely enough in this modern au i think hiram and gunnr's influences on alistairs college career (equivalent to the king choice) are swapped from what theyd normally be. hiram would be resistant to alistair quitting college and kinda hammer in duncan's expectations (which i mean i keep mentioning but hes Not gonna like. disown them or something. like hed be disappointed, to varying degrees, but this is something that hangs over hiram like a specter. like it would impact things but hiram kind of makes mountains out of molehills over it. probably because he's felt severely unwanted his entire life and feels that any mistake is The End.) and put the weight on his own shoulders onto alistair in that moment.

(to expand more on that ^ i think hiram holds alistair to the same standards that he feels he himself has to conform to. and it scares him to see alistair consider Not going through the hell of college because it solidifies that as an Option. it give hiram an out, one with consequences, And it leaves him alone in his burden. they patch it up later down the road but needless to say things get Very Turbulent.)

meanwhile gunnr would be like hey listen. you dont need college to make something of yourself. if it sucks hit da bricks. and i think that ultimately wins out and him and hiram have a big falling out because of it and alistair goes to stay with gunnr in her shitty little apartment (? if it could be called that. debatable.)

im not rushing their romance here at this point bc the end of the world isnt upon them so. they have time to just be friends for a while while alistair's squishy feelings grow and gunnr finds herself more and more endeared to him. its absurd to her and she doesnt know What to do with that so she just. acts normal

messes with him a bit more maybe. yknow to do Something. maybe he starts working with her on some jobs. hes not thrilled about that part but work is work. and its not Bad stuff so. i just think hes a bit of a goody-two-shoes and doing things in a Not Super Allowed way makes him squirmy.

also i need zevran to be in here SOMEWHERE for hiram but i honest to god dont know. how. i have to think on it auuugh. they probably meet sometime during him and alistair's falling out. hiram needs someone there for him besides that old man he antagonizes at warhammer and duncan

ok so hiram and morrigan. i have actually thought about this previously and i have notes but i dont want to look at them right now. we're freeballing.

morrigan is a friend he made at a small school he went to with one of his previous foster families (he was shuffled through a lot of homes). she has an abusive mother and hiram becomes really her only friend. everyone else avoids her and if you listened to her shed say 'good' and that she liked it that way but ultimately she is Not immune to being lonely. and she finds genuine companionship in hiram.

soon enough hiram is shuffled out again but he goes through hell and highwater to make sure the two of them stay in touch.

well eventually around the time hiram is preparing to start college morrigan calls him and talks about her mother's pressure for her to have a child and that she thinks she'd actually like to but far Far away from flemeth. she doesnt want her mother having any part in the life of this child. she also asks if hiram would be the one to father it and hes a ride or die kind of friend so he agrees.

they meet up. the event is kinda awkward considering he is gay and neither are attracted in any way sexually to each other but they put in effort and thats sweet in its own right. afterward she tells him that she has to cut contact and that she plans to skip country. she cant tell him where and he knows this. he doesnt ask. he tells her to be safe and good luck. they hug and then she leaves.

a lot of impulsivity on display here but theyre both like 18 so. yknow. also shes lucky this actually Does take. neither of them had enough sex ed to have had it occur to them that one night Might not be enough to conceive a child.

also hiram does not mention this night to anyone for a very long time. no one knows he has a son and most of the time he forgets until he wakes up in a cold sweat with misplaces guilt over being an absent father. anyway

my baby my beloved. renard hawke. he's a farmer who's family had to move to the city after too many years of negative profit and debt.

the farm had been on a decline for a long time, but a few years after the death of malcom hawke, it finally caught up to them.

hawke family tragedy speedrun: bethany dies a bit after they settle into the city in a car crash. im not really sure what happens to carver. he doesnt die. joining the military seems likely. im also not sure what happens to leandra. her being the victim of a serial killer seems a Little bit unlikely but it could still happen. she could also grieve herself to death, the stress finally getting her.

renard is actually the person ive thought about the modern version of the least! so im not settled on a lot for him or his friends.

he ends up with fenris of course. he forms a lot of connections really quickly in the city. hawke in every universe is just a guy ppl gravitate towards. i think him and gunnr would get to be really good friends actually, and through her he'd eventually meet the rest of the origins gang. well besides morrigan, as previously stated shes off and away, and people connected only to hiram would be slower to meet renard until things were better between hiram and alistair. no da2 companion is left out here i just dont have concrete ideas as of right now.

what i DO know. is that he eventually goes missing (here lies the abyss). he doesnt tell anyone that he's going, where he's going. he leaves a six word note for fenris, gets in his car in the dead of night, and drives. the last person on record to have ever seen him is Islanil Lavellan, at a diner in the early hours of the morning. renard and islanil did not know each other prior to that meeting, but varric knows islanil as he works with varric's publishing company.

fenris will not stop until he finds hawke. it doesnt matter how cold the case becomes or how many try to dissuade him, he Will find hawke.

ok thats where im stopping right now because i need to brainstorm the da2 stuff more and i havent actually played inquisition with islanil yet. and i have some ideas for faustus mercar (rook) but i havent finished veilguard yet.

ATTENTION ALL DRAGON AGE PPL!!!

Describe any of your DA OC's as if they were regular modern people.

Favorite songs, fast food they would like, favorite movies etc.

[phenakistoskope]

while reading about the relation between eating disorders and food insecurity, i realized that my own eating disorder started in college when i only had forty rupees a day to spend. going to college cost me eleven rupees, and it was the same on the way back, so that was twenty two rupees gone, and we had classes from ten a.m. to five p.m. with a lunch break in between. and the cheapest thing in the canteen was an egg chop with half an egg in it which cost twenty rupees. so you know, i usually just smoked a few cigarettes for lunch, and squirreled away the rest for a plate of pan fried momos at a minuscule restaurant down the street at the end of the week. they were REALLY good momos.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

_____ used Destiny Bond! _____ is hoping to take his attacker down with him!

-

(Belatedly) celebrating the one-year anniversary of the 'Destiny Bond' comic with a rare, fully-illustrated piece. A bit of extra context and rambly thoughts under the cut 🫶💖💕

A little over a year ago, I posted the first part of the Destiny Bond comic, originally intended to be a one-off doodle exploring the consequences of Morty's prophetic abilities on his relationship with Eusine.

That sketchy doodle of mine ended up being a whole narrative project spanning across a few months, before I eventually took a pause on it to focus on my mental health (having reached a low earlier in the year).

It was a daring enough project in and of itself, especially with how I had spontaneously taken it on when I was still recovering from a years-long burnout with 2D art. Though (temporarily) stopping sooner than I had hoped, I can confidently say that this little comic project of mine had helped to rekindle my love for drawing as a whole, and had further lead me to meeting some of the most wonderful people and friends in this small corner of the Pokémon fandom (whom also happen to be obsessed with these two silly guys from the GSC/HGSS games). It's a project I hold dearly to my heart, and one that I hope to revisit and continue once I feel ready to do so; as the story has yet to truly kick off (I'm not even joking we're still in the prologue technically I'm yelling /lh).

I hope to be able to share the rest of this story with you all one day, in whatever new form it'll take as. For now, I want to say thank you, from the deepest parts of my heart, for supporting this passion project of mine - and to assure you to tune in for the future of this title. 👀✨

[lornasaurusrex]

I miss you Lorna… this is such a mess

This is an old message and I had several other similar messages, but I miss you guys and hope you’re all doing well!! I’m sorry to see nothing has improved.

I saw I was kindly mentioned by @awesomefringey and some other commenters the other day, so just wanted to log in and say hello and log back out for a few more months. 💕

Sending so so much love to all of you. Take care of yourselves and each other, please.

The video is still on YT.

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[carcarrot]

having another one of my job-related crises

[scoliosisgoblin]

doodles and some lore. I'm tired.