#they are the BEST okay their energy is unparalleled

[essektheylyss]

the mighty nein truly just like "the most important part of killing evil psychic hiveminds and stopping the end of the world is to have fun and be yourself <3"

[goldfades]

★ ALWAYS AN ANGEL, NEVER A GOD ─── CC²² (part 1/2)

❪ requested -> "Can you write something about cc and reader being enemies and hating eachother. but they are on two different teams so they play against eachother and something happens during one of their games and they take their hate out on eachother with smut?" ❫

─ warnings | lots of sexual tension (no smut, yet) slightly angst, reader is on LSU, singular kiss, trash talking, drinking, nothing else

─ ev's notes | okay so i'm not a super LSU fan, i just rly love hailey and angel so those are the only girls included in the fic LMAOOO, anyway. enjoy this heavy ass fic!

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You couldn't stand Caitlin Clark.

Now, you couldn't really remember when this dislike had began. Ever since you laid on eyes on taller brunette, you hated how cocky she was. It wasn't just her cockiness that rubbed you the wrong way; it was the way she seemed to effortlessly outshine everyone around her, both on and off the court.

You watched as she dominated every game, her skills unparalleled, her talent undeniable. It felt like she was born to be a star, while you struggled to keep up. And while her talent was undeniable, it was her attitude that really got under your skin. She seemed to revel in her superiority, never missing an opportunity to remind everyone just how good she was.

But perhaps what bothered you most was the fact that despite your best efforts, you couldn't seem to escape her shadow. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you improved, you were always just one step behind her. It was frustrating, infuriating even, to constantly be compared to someone who seemed so effortlessly perfect.

Well ─ at least, in your eyes. You were still one of the best players in the entire nation, however you were always second best to Princess Caitlin Clark. You'd been the second best prospect in your year, trailing behind her like a persistent shadow. And it wasn't just the comparisons that irked you; it was the constant reminder of your perceived inadequacy, the feeling of always being in her shadow.

You couldn't shake the resentment that bubbled within you every time Caitlin strutted onto the court, her aura of invincibility following her like a shadow. She thrived on the attention, basking in the adoration of fans and teammates alike. Meanwhile, you fought tooth and nail for every scrap of recognition, every ounce of respect that always seemed just out of reach.

That was, until the 2023 NCAA championship.

LSU versus Iowa ─ the most anticipated game of the season, who will take the W? It was the showdown everyone had been waiting for, the clash of titans to determine who would claim the coveted crown of college basketball supremacy.

And at the center of it all were you and Caitlin, two fierce competitors locked in a battle for glory.

You had chugged your redbull and strutted out on the court like you owned it, your eyes landing on the taller brunette who's eyes were already on you. In that moment, you knew that this game would be about more than just basketball; it would be a battle of wills, a clash of titans vying for supremacy. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could almost reach out and touch it.

The media frenzy surrounding the game only added to the pressure, with reporters clamoring for every tidbit of insight from both you and Caitlin. It was the clash of the season, the matchup everyone had been waiting for, and neither of you were about to disappoint.

Everyone felt the tension, the energy crackling in the air like electricity. The media never missed a chance to ask you or Caitlin about it, hyping up the matchup as the game. And as you stood there, facing off against Caitlin across the court, you knew that this was your chance to finally prove yourself, to silence the doubters and cement your legacy once and for all.

"Don't worry, Y/N," Hailey's voice echoed from behind you, you felt her hand your shoulder. "You'll end up winning this. You've trained too hard for anything else."

You nodded, taking in a deep breath to steady your nerves. Even your teammates knew the deep-rooted history with the brunette. It wasn't just about LSU versus Iowa; it was about L/N versus Clark, a battle for supremacy that had captured the attention of fans and media alike.

As the referee signaled the start of the game, you focused all your attention on the task at hand. Caitlin stood across from you, a worthy adversary with a reputation to match. But you were ready, mentally and physically prepared to give it everything you had.

You were tasked to guard her and you weren't planning on letting her get an inch of space. Every move she made, every dribble, every feint, you were right there, anticipating her next move with razor-sharp focus. You could feel the intensity of her gaze, the determination in her eyes as she tried to outmaneuver you.

With each passing minute, you could see the frustration building in Caitlin's dark eyes, the realization dawning that you had expanded your skill set since the last time you'd met. And as the game wore on, you refused to let up, hounding her relentlessly from one end of the court to the other.

Then suddenly with 4 seconds on the clock before halftime, you saw your chance to prove your superiority. With speed, you intercepted one of Caitlin's passes, turning defense into offense in the blink of an eye. With a burst of speed, you drove towards the basket, leaving Caitlin in your wake as you soared through the air for an emphatic dunk.

In that moment, you knew that you had won more than just a single play ─ you had won a psychological battle, proving to Caitlin and everyone watching that you were more than just her equal.

Your teammates surrounded you but the cheers into background as Caitlin gazed at you, her usual determination into pure rage. But instead of feeling intimidated, a sense of satisfaction washed over you, a knowing smile playing at your lips.

You had waited for this moment, trained for it, dreamed about it. And now, as you looked into Caitlin's eyes, you could see the realization dawning on her ─ that you were not just her rival, but her equal, maybe even her superior. She wasn't unguardable, you'd just proven everyone wrong and Caitlin herself was forced to acknowledge it.

"The fuck are you smiling for?" Her words came out harsh as she walked toward you, letting her frustration get the best of her. You met her gaze head-on, unflinching despite the intensity of her glare ─ you felt your smile grow as laughter built up in your stomach, looking up at the brunette.

You couldn't resist a smirk at Caitlin's question, relishing the opportunity to get under her skin just a little more. "Because I just showed the world what real talent looks like," you shot back, your tone dripping with amusement. "Looks like being second best suits you, Caitlin."

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, it seemed like she might lash out until her teammate put her hand on her shoulder. "Yeah, well, don't get too cocky," she muttered, her voice tinged with anger. "This isn't over, Y/N. I'll be back, and next time, I won't go easy on you."

You shrugged, undeterred by her threat. "Bring it on, Princess," you challenged, your smirk widening into a full-blown grin. "I'll be waiting ─ and smiling ─ for round two."

"Princess? You've gotta be kidding, who do the fuck do you think─" Caitlin cut herself off with a bitter laugh, shaking her head. She ignored your quip as she walked away, making sure to hit your shoulder as she walked away.

Before you could relish in the moment any longer, you felt Angel's hands on your shoulders as you met her gaze. You squealed in excitement as you both walked off the court toward your team.

The game continued after halftime, each possession a testament to your skill and determination. But no matter how hard Caitlin fought, she couldn't shake the knowledge that you had bested her, not just physically, but mentally as well.

And when the final buzzer sounded, signaling your LSU's victory, you knew that you had achieved more than just a win. You had proven yourself on the biggest stage, against the toughest competition, and emerged victorious.

As you celebrated with your teammates, the realization sunk in that this victory wasn't just about winning a game; it was about overcoming years of doubt and frustration, about proving to yourself and the world that you were capable of achieving greatness.

──

"Caitlin, tough loss out there tonight. How are you feeling after such a close game?" A reporter asked, their voice sympathetic.

Caitlin took a moment to collect her thoughts, her mind still buzzing with the intensity of the game. "Yeah, it's definitely disappointing to come up short like that," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "We gave it our all out there, but sometimes things just don't go your way."

But it was the next question that made Caitlin's stomach twist with unease. "Your matchup with Y/N was one of the most anticipated of the season. What was it like going head-to-head with her?"

She hesitated, knowing that whatever she said next would be scrutinized. "Y/N is a talented player, no doubt about it. I've known her for a while, we've played on the same team at some point," Caitlin answered carefully, her words measured. "She brought her A-game tonight, and it made for a tough battle on the court."

The tension in the room seemed to ratchet up a notch as another reporter pressed on. "There seemed to be some tension between you two out there. Can you speak to that?"

Caitlin's jaw tensed momentarily before she forced herself to relax. "Y/N and I have a history, for sure," she replied, her tone diplomatic. "But at the end of the day, it's just competition. We both want to win, and sometimes that can lead to some heated moments on the court. I don't hate her," she paused as she sighed. "She's a good player, props to her. She proved I'm not unguardable,"

Caitlin forced a smile as the reporters laughed, nodding. But it was the final question that caught Caitlin off guard, prompting a genuine, knowing smile to tug at the corners of her lips. "Do you think this game marks the end of your rivalry with Y/N?"

She paused, considering her response carefully. "No, ma'am. It's far from over, I haven't been beat yet,"

The reporters laughed again but she was dead serious. She couldn't wait until next year, she knew LSU would make it to the finals ─ and she'd finally prove to you once and for all, she is number one.

──

"It felt more like sexual tension to me, that's just me though," Hailey spoke up as she swirled her straw in her drink.

Hailey's remark caught you off guard, and you shot her a sharp glare, a mixture of surprise and annoyance flickering in your eyes. But before you could respond, she quickly held her hands up in defense, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," she quipped, her tone light despite the tension in the air. "I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking. You should look at twitter. Actually, not right now ─ you're not gonna like it,"

"What do you mean?" You sent the blonde another look as she gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging.

Hailey gave you a thin-lipped smile, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just saying, you might want to avoid social media for a little while,"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why? What's going on?" you pressed, your patience wearing thin.

But before Hailey could respond, Angel interrupted, clapping you on the back and dragging you into a group huddle to celebrate the victory. As the cheers and laughter filled the air, you couldn't shake the feeling of annoyance that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

"Wait, wait, I have my film camera upstairs!" You shouted as the team let out a chorus of groans.

"Go get it!"

You grabbed your purse and ran up to the elevator. As you rode the elevator up to your room, your mind raced with thoughts of the game, the victory, and the impending celebration. You were texting your parents, not looking where you were going until you someone stopped you in your tracks, putting their hands on your shoulders.

You looked up to meet Caitlin's dark eyes, your excitement turning into annoyance. Her gaze was intense, and you could feel the weight of her stare boring into you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension thick between you like a tangible force.

"Watch where you're going, you almost bumped into me," her voice was hoarse as your lips turned to a frown.

"Well I didn't," your eyes flickered to her hands, who were still lingering on your shoulders. You caught her gaze as she cleared her throat before slowly withdrawing them.

Neither of you moved, daring the other to break the tense silence that hung heavy in the air. The weight of Caitlin's stare bore into you, her dark eyes searching for something you couldn't quite name. Your own gaze remained locked with hers, a silent challenge passing between you.

"I don't get why you're being a bitch," her words came out soft but there was an edge to them. She didn't look like her usual self, she didn't give off the same energy she did on the court.

"What do you mean?" You scoffed, shaking your head. "It isn't about you, Caitlin. It's about winning and being a bitch is kinda part of the package,"

"No, I don't mean tonight. You always act like I'm the worst person alive, even when we played together. On the court, we were fine and then you didn't wanna talk to me after," Caitlin said, her voice tinged with frustration.

"Yeah, cause not everyone wants to be friends with you, Caitlin," you shot back as her hurt turned into annoyance.

"Yeah but we played well together, and if you'd committed to Iowa, like you said you would we would have been unstoppable," Caitlin's voice grew louder as she furrowed her eyebrows.

You scoffed. "Then I would've committed to a four years of being second to you, like I did All Iowa Attack. Plus I would have if you'd gone to UConn, like you said you would,"

"God, what is your obsession and being second to me!" Her frustration finally boiled over, her voice rising in anger as she locked eyes with you. "You're not even second to me. We're just good at different things and I get a little more recognition than you. Jesus Christ, you're so self-obsessed, not everything is about you."

"No, Caitlin, it's not about being self-obsessed," you shot back, your voice rising to match her intensity. "It's about feeling like I'm always playing second to you, no matter how hard I try."

Caitlin's eyes flashed with frustration, her jaw set in a stubborn line. "And what, you think I enjoy always being the one in the spotlight?" she retorted, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It's not as fun as you think, Y/N. All that recognition comes with its own set of pressures and expectations."

You scoffed, the anger bubbling up inside you. "Oh, cry me a river, Caitlin," you spat, the resentment clear in your tone. "At least you get the recognition. At least people know who you are."

"People know who you are too!" Caitlin's nostrils flared as she took a step closer, her gaze piercing into yours. You didn't even know how close she was until you could feel her body warmth radiating off of her as she looked down at you.

"Yeah, as the sidekick," you shot back, refusing to back down despite the proximity. "Always in your shadow, always second best."

Caitlin's jaw clenched, her frustration palpable as she fought to maintain her composure. "You think I don't know what it's like to feel overshadowed?" she snapped, her voice strained with emotion. "You think I don't feel the pressure to live up to everyone's expectations?"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Please, Caitlin," you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "You love the attention. You thrive on it."

Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, her eyes dark with intensity as she took a step closer, the space between you narrowing until there was barely a breath of air separating you. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, her proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

"Is that what you think?" she murmured, her voice low and husky, a hint of something unfamiliar dancing in her eyes. "That I love the attention?"

You swallowed hard, the heat of her gaze searing into your skin, igniting something unfamiliar within you. "Isn't it?" you shot back, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't like this new attitude, Y/N. I liked it better when used to you shut up and and take the heat," Caitlin interjected, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

Your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of Caitlin's words sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. There was something different about her now, something raw that left you both exhilarated and irritated.

"I'm not the one who can't handle a little competition," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you met Caitlin's gaze head-on.

Caitlin's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger as she took another step closer, the heat of her body enveloping you in a cloud of desire. "And I'm not the one who needs to prove myself at every turn," she shot back, her voice low and dangerous.

"You're a bitch," you felt breathless as her gaze bore into yours.

"Yeah? Am I?" Her lips quirked into a smirk as she took in your appearance. You were always pretty, everyone knew it ─ people underestimated you, she sure had until tonight.

She wasn't dumb ─ she saw the way you looked at her and underneath all that hatred, she knew that you just wanted a little attention from her. Even after she'd committed to Iowa and you'd committed to LSU, Caitlin could see the way your gaze lingered on her more than it should have.

You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks at the intensity of her gaze, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. Despite the anger and frustration bubbling beneath the surface, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the way Caitlin looked at you, as if she could see right through to your soul.

"Damn right you are," you shot back, your voice tinged with defiance as you met her gaze head-on.

Caitlin's smirk widened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in her eyes as she closed the distance between you, her body inches away from yours.

"And you love it," she murmured, her voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

Before you could respond, Caitlin's lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless, the heat of her touch igniting a fire deep within you.

She pressed her lips against yours harshly and the two of you momentarily decided to forget how you two were in the hotel hallway, where anyone could step out and see this scene unfolding.

"Oh fuck," you moaned into the kiss as she pressed closer, your words muffled against her lips.

But Caitlin didn't seem to care about the risk of being caught, her hands roaming freely over your body as she deepened the kiss, her touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both.

You melted into her embrace, your mind clouded with desire as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment. For a fleeting instant, nothing else mattered ─ not the rivalry, not the consequences, nothing but the intoxicating passion that pulsed between you and Caitlin.

Caitlin pulled away harshly, a desperate whimper coming out of your lips as she glared down at you. She licked her lips as she let go of you, your face contorting into annoyance. Was she teasing you?

"What the hell, Cait?" you demanded, your voice laced with a mixture of irritation and longing. "Why'd you stop?"

Caitlin's gaze bore into yours, intense and unreadable, as she licked her lips with a slow, deliberate motion that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a hunger in her eyes, a primal desire that mirrored your own, yet something held her back, a barrier between you that neither of you seemed willing to breach.

"I'm not fucking you until we win," she replied, her voice low and husky, the words a mere whisper against the charged silence that enveloped you both. "Until I get the trophy, until your team loses."

"So you're gonna wait a whole year?" You scoffed, incredulity lacing your tone as you struggled to comprehend Caitlin's reasoning. The idea of waiting seemed absurd, especially in the midst of the intense desire that pulsed between you. "Well good luck, cause we're not going to."

"Yeah, and until you cut the fucking attitude. It doesn't suit you, Y/N." Caitlin's words were sharp, a harsh reminder of the tension that simmered beneath the surface of your interactions.

"Fuck you," you scoffed as she smirked. She just shook her head as she walked away, leaving you alone and so desperately needy.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[trips2saturn]

TOWL SPOILERS BELOW!!!!!!

enough time has passed and i’m impatient so here it is. episode two debriefing! ❤️‍🔥

danai and andy’s chemistry is unparalleled and has never been executed so well before by any other actors. their words, emotions, and energy into bringing these characters to life in such a tender way is something absolutely so enigmatic and goshshfgshdhsn i just love them. i love their dynamic and their power to create such an immaculate foundation that will always be such a memorable piece for all of us as fans of this franchise. 🫶🏼

michonne and nat deserved more time. point blank period. i sobbed violently and had to pause the episode for ten minutes. i loved his dynamic with michonne and how much impact his character had in under 40 minutes of screen time. missing him forever and ever. and not to be an asshole but their relationship is what the dude-bros wanted rick and okafor’s association to be ! tell me i’m wrong.

dana from a group of 40 people with her sister el. yaaaas go girl! she’s a b your honor please believe her!!! she’s totally not a badass powerhouse wife and mother of two who’s experienced more in her life than the crm ever have!!!

it’s FUCK the crm forever actually. CHLORINE GAS? killing the pregnant lady and her boyfriend???? im distraught. the most disgusting group of people to ever exist apart from the saviors. hoping to see their entire base burn to the ground by the end of this series !!!! <3

RICHONNE REUNITING AFTER CHOOSING TO GIVE UP HOPE TO FIND EACH OTHER 😭😭😭 the universe loves them soooo much they’re like this 🤞 when it comes to fate. i am still actively emotional over all of their scenes. they’re sooo in love with each other it hurts. i’m still on cloud nine just from seeing them kiss (and moan omg!) so excuse me. ❤️‍🩹

michonne cradling rick’s face and rick nuzzling into her hands? THAT IS HER BABY POOKIE SUGAR PLUM CRISP. keep them together! they cannot be separated!

jadis can die with all due disrespect. she ruined everything. it’s been her fault since the start. she separated them. she’s the reason that rj doesn’t know his father and only knows of his legendary stories. fuck her. d*e!

rick asking about jude multiple times :((( his baby. bring him home to his kids PLEASE. must’ve been such a shocker to hear him ask about his daughter and not daryl or negan oh no! abused, kidnapped father finds the love of his life and wants to make sure that their daughter is still okay after being away from her for a decade! SHOCKER! WOW. this is shocking news! 🙀

the scenes of michonne and nat having to rebuild their health after the chlorine gas bomb was so heartbreaking but powerful. michonne working out and continuing to push herself by being reminded of her strength, grief, and love. she is so strong and i’m so proud of her. i hate the crm.

“shoto? shoto?” PUNCHING ME IN THE GUT WOULD HURT LESS. meanwhile judith is also trying to reach out but their signal is too far gone for them to do so. 😭 pleaseeee i just need one future scene of them reuniting. michonne loves them so much she is the best mother ever. ❤️‍🩹

okay!!!!! that’s all that i have for now. still collecting my thoughts after this episode but i love my tv parents more than life. so happy to have them back and i can’t wait for the next four episodes!!!!!!!

[stilliwait]

So I'm writing a Varric x Fem!Hawke fanfic...

I'm REALLY struggling to figure out a title for it though. It's going to be long, spanning from Hawke's childhood all the way to post-Trespasser. I have a rough outline of how I want it to go, but a title is tricky. SO I'm posting the beginning of the story here to see if I can get some inspo from ya'll. It's like the first 1/3rd of chapter one, though I'm open to cutting it here if anyone thinks this would be a good stopping point. I haven't published anything I've written in the better part of a decade, and I'm rusty.

Things to note pre-reading:

I've rewritten the canon slightly. Marian Hawke is a twin to Garrett Hawke, and they shoulder the burden of Champion together. The children all grew up in Kirkwall before Bethany's magic manifested and they had to run for Ferelden. Bethany and Carver both survive the trip back to Kirkwall.

Marian and Varric will, obviously, end up together, but it's a slow-ish burn. Still deciding how I want the story to flesh out in terms of timing on some of the scenes I've written, but they'll probably get together in secret pre-Deep Roads.

Varric's nickname for Marian is Rosie because she's thorny on the outside (with sarcasm) but soft on the inside. Rosie is when she's being a jackass, Rosebud for when she's showing her sweet and vulnerable side, which is rare.

Okay, thank you and happy reading! I will be posting this to AO3 eventually, but not without a title.

The Hawke children were always told magic ran in their family. With a mage for a father and a mother who’s ancestry held many mages as well, it wasn’t a surprise when one of their children was born with magic, though their father always joked that it ‘had to be the youngest’.

Maybe magic ran in their family, but Marian thought twins must too.  How else could someone explain two sets to the same parents?  First came herself and Garrett, older than her by two minutes.  They split the burden of being the eldest child, with Garrett shouldering the brunt of the family burden, and Marian housing all the guilt.  As they got older, she joked he had sucked all the energy from their mother, and that was why he sprang up over six feet tall, and she barely made it past five.  They both had a penchant for recklessness, though Marian was the first to point out flaws in a plan - ever cautious - while Garrett liked to run head-first and ask questions later.

Then came their younger siblings; Carver and Bethany.  Carver seemed to house all the middle child issues - brash, quick to anger, always trying to one-up Garrett with his competitiveness.  He was also the best at calming their mother when any fights happened, and his devotion to his own twin was unparalleled.  Bethany was born sunshine incarnate, and Carver did his best to protect his little sister from the horrors of the world. They all did. Bethany was the perfect youngest child, all smiles and joy and fun.  She could charm a Qunari if she tried hard enough, and she gave her kindness like a gift to everyone around her.  Marian wished she was more like her.

That’s how they survived fleeing Kirkwall as children; Bethany’s kindness.  Marian had grown up in the Amell estate with her siblings, and parents.  The story she was told by Leandra was thus:

Her grandparents were angry - Code for utterly pissed according to Garrett - that their mother had thrown away her engagement to Guillaume de Launcet, a Comte’s son no less, to be with a Circle Mage.  They were furious when they found out Gamlen had helped the couple be together out of love for his sister and her happiness.  Eventually, when Leandra wrote to them letting them know she was with child, they welcomed her home, their father Malcolm in tow.

Marian’s earliest childhood memories were of the estate.  Her grandparents doted on herself and Garrett with unabashed affection, and she remembered them even acting warm to her father.  Her grandmother Bethann would make cookies with her in the kitchen, smearing flour on the both of them as they laughed, and the cook would shake her head at them and pretend the cookies were delicious before secretly swapping them for an edible batch.  Her grandfather Ariside spent hours with her and Garrett in the library, teaching the twins to read and telling them stories of dragons and heroes and true love’s kiss. Her mother was happy to live in society, and her father did well for himself, working for her grandfather and hiding from the Templars.

When Bethany and Carver came along, it seemed that joy would continue.  “Two sets of twins!” her grandmother would exclaim to anyone they met.  “How did we get so lucky?!”  Despite the five-year age gap between them, Marian and Garrett adored their younger siblings, teaching them to walk and talk, and sneak treats whenever they were left to their own devices.  When the younger twins were toddlers, and she and Garrett were nearly ten, their grandfather started teaching them about martial weapons, just to pass the time and give their unending energy a healthy outlet.  He was pleased when they both threw themselves into it, spending hours sparring with wooden daggers, and even more thrilled when Marian showed promise in archery, his favorite pastime.

But with all joy comes strife, and the Hawke family was no different.  Bethany was six when her magic manifested, to the horror and shock of her grandparents.  Malcolm was heartbroken for his daughter.  There were only two choices for the family of a mage too young to control their power: Turn her in to The Circle, or go into hiding.  The Hawkes chose the latter, unable to part from their daughter.

Marian remembered leaving her grandparents home in the night, with tears down her face and her twin’s hand in hers, a promise from their grandparents that this was not forever, and they could come home soon.  That was the first time Garrett came up with a secret code, just for the two of them.  In the hold of the ship they boarded to Ferelden, he silently squeezed her hand three times, a stoic look on his young face, a silent I love you to his sister.  It was a promise between the siblings that they would survive this and come out okay on the other side.

They ran for months before finally settling on the outskirts of Lothering, a small but solid home waiting for them. Marian never thought to ask how they were able to secure such a place so close to a village, but as she got older she assumed her grandparents may have had something to do with it. It just made her miss them more.

Their father started tutoring Bethany, and Carver became jealous at how much time Malcolm devoted to the young mage.  Marian and Garrett did their best to distract him, dragging him to the local Chantry and asking the Templars and soldiers to teach them how to fight.  Carver was nine when he first held a shield, and the elder twins couldn’t have been prouder. He was a fighter like them, and the three of them sparred regularly, practicing the knowledge the villagers gave them.  As the years wore on, the militia became more and more impressed with them, and started to give the three ideas of joining the army.

When the children grew into teenagers, the Templars started to take notice of their little family, particularly their youngest daughter.  Marian did her best to distract the young men with her wit, charm, and no small amount of flirting. While Bethany never knew exactly why the Templars never took her in, Garrett quickly figured out what his sister was doing and was horrified.  He threatened several of the men within an inch of their lives, and they left the family alone.  Bethany started spending more time in the Chantry, much to their mother’s chagrin and anxiety, and she befriended the Sisters and Brothers of the church.  Her sweet voice singing the chant and her sparkling eyes when they read religious stories made her endearing, and if anyone noticed there was something special about her, they said nothing.

For a time, the family knew peace in their little village. But peace did not last for Hawkes for long.

When the family’s fourteenth summer in Lothering ended, so too did Malcolm Hawke’s life.

No one was quite sure what the illness was that took him, but it was quick, and it was devastating.  Leandra was broken at the loss of her beloved husband, and could hardly get out of bed.  Bethany cried for days after his pyre was burned, scared of being the lone mage of the family.  Carver retreated into himself, anger and guilt plaguing his features.  He barked at anyone who tried to talk to him besides his twin for weeks before settling into a resigned state.  Marian and Garrett both mourned quietly, taking care of their family in lieu of talking about (or even acknowledging) their feelings on the matter.  They kept the family fed, kept their mother from caving in on herself, kept Carver from starting too many fights in town.  Slowly, they pieced together their small lives, and Leandra began talking about returning to Kirkwall when they were able.  Surely if Malcolm could hide from Templars in plain sight, Bethany could too? None of her children agreed though, for their grandparents had long passed away, and the idea of returning to their ancestral home without the people that made it so was too painful so close to their father’s passing.

Life went on. A new sister joined the local Chantry, her lilting Orleasian accent so different and beautiful, and it was a big deal in such a small village.  Marian gravitated towards the girl, both for her sweet personality and her red hair, so similar to her own they could be siblings. Leliana was a breath of fresh air in the family’s life, and they often went to town to spend time with her, though she and Marian quickly became fast friends.  They would talk about the world around them, the Maker (Marian was skeptical and they had many kind-hearted debates), and even mage rights, though the latter was tip-toed around.  Marian knew her friend was observant, and it didn’t surprise her when Leliana made the occasional comment about Bethany.  But the secret was kept, and a strong friendship forged.

The girls would practice archery together, a surprising delight for Marian.  She hadn’t had anyone to shoot with since her grandfather in Kirkwall, and getting to learn how someone else pulled a bowstring and aimed the barrel was a welcome distraction from the stress of her day-to-day life.  Garrett would occasionally join in, Bethany even less so, and both were far inferior in skill to the red-headed girls.  They would laugh good naturedly, and Marian tried to help her brother improve where she could, but he was hopeless with anything that wasn’t a blade.  Carver continued to practice swords and shields with the local militia, and she caught him staring longingly at her friend more than once. If Leli noticed, she did not let on, but Marian kept an eye on his crush. She would kill her brother if he ruined the one friendship she had outside her family.

Three years passed, and the two sets of twins fell into their proverbial roles in the family.  Marian was the caretaker, making sure they had enough to eat and their home was relatively clean. Bethany was the peace keeper, smoothing over any fights and tiffs they had and charming the village into forgetting her potentially magical aura.  And the boys continued to hone their martial skills, until one day news of a potential Blight reached their ears.  Garrett and Carver were conscripted in the army, with Marian staying behind to protect their mother and sister.  She would never admit it, but the idea of war made her stomach churn.  Killing animals for food or bandits to protect her family was one thing, but monsters?  She wasn’t so sure she could keep her sanity in the face of darkspawn.

The day before her brothers left, Marian pulled her twin aside.  She and Garrett rarely tried to push their family into doing what they wanted, but in the face of a Blight desperate times called for desperate measures.  The evening found the siblings on the roof, laying back to look at the stars as they spoke.

“How hard do you think it’ll be to keep Carver alive on a battlefield?” Garrett asked, trying to spot the constellations their father had taught them.

“The most hard-headed man alive? I give you ten minutes before he tries to run at an ogre,” Marian drawled, lifting his hand to point to Tenebrium, their favourite set of stars.  It laid out above them in the shape of a great owl, though Marian always argued it more closely resembled a hawk.  “Do try to keep him from running head-first into danger, won’t you?”

Garrett shook his head at his sister, a smirk perched on his lips. “That’s like asking me to keep him from nailing Bethany’s braid to the bed posts.” They both snickered at countless memories of Carver doing just that, and Bethany shooting ice at his feet in retaliation.  When the laughter died down, a serious silence stretched between them, and Marian felt her brother lace his fingers through hers.

“What do we do if the Blight comes here?” she asked quietly.  She’d tried to bring it up before, but Garrett couldn’t be swayed.

“It’s not going to come here,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not even sure this is a real Blight, no one’s even seen a dragon yet!” He had a pout on his face, like not seeing a dragon was somehow a personal offense to him, and Marian’s hand twitched to smack him, resisting only because he was leaving early the next morning.

“Garrett, I’m serious! We need a plan! Where do we meet up if something happens? I know you’re stupidly confident, but we’re Hawkes.” Her voice was quieter now, a little sadness peeking through.  “Shit seems to find us wherever we go.  I don’t want to be separated from you just because we didn’t discuss something.”  She felt Garrett shift beside her, and turned her head to face his, taking in his somber expression.

“I don’t know Mare, honestly.  Where could we go if a Blight was truly upon us? Denerim, I suppose, though I hear it smells like shit.” He still had a teasing lilt in his voice, and she tried not to huff that he wasn’t taking her seriously.

“Fine, don’t help me plan. All it’ll mean is you’ll be scrambling to find us when the world falls apart,” she sniped, annoyed.  Garrett reached over and ruffled her hair with his free hand, getting a squawk in return as she slapped his hands away.

“You worry too much, little sister.  Nothing bad is going to happen to us or our precious little village. Just breathe, spend time with your Chantry friend, and try not to get into any trouble while we’re gone. We’ll be back before you know it.” He was grinning at her, his tongue slightly sticking out between his teeth.  Marian pinched his side in retaliation, earning a yelp from him.  She tried to stay annoyed, but it was hard to be mad at her other half.  Mostly she was nervous. They’d never been apart for more than a few days, and the idea of him being gone for weeks with only Carver for company terrified her, both for his safety and sanity.

She deflected from her worries, ever the Hawke. “Stop calling me little sister Garrett, you’re two minutes older. It barely counts.”  She poked at him again, but he caught her hand in his and held it tightly. Three squeezes.

“I love you too, you prat,” she teased, and the two fell into companionable silence, watching the stars above them.

[lesbiandanhowell]

Special episode of Sam reacts!

Sam reacts to: We're All Doomed Movie

Since this is long, little summary of thoughts at the beginning. I didn't love the editing at the beginning, because it felt too fast paced/ too jumpy? But it changed in the second half and seeing the contrast in the editing of it being much slower during the emotional bit, it does make sense. I think the movie for sure did the performance justice and showing the audience interactions added a lot for me.

Also this show is so important on every level and I adore Dan so much for making it and being so proud of it.

- Immediately started looking for myself but I don't think you can see us, cause we sat on the balcony. I have however already spotted @energeticwarrior and @danrifics like less than a minute in lmao

- I love seeing how many of the camera positions I identified correctly.

- I wish they would let shots linger more, the cuts are quite jumpy.

- Oh this brings me back so much. Hearing the audience laugh at certain moments I remember laughing in that moment. I get the same excitement and urge to clap and cheer.

- I love seeing his expressions, cause I didn't get to see those up from the balcony!

- The person with the boob hair sweater in the first row, I love you!

- "Believably sad, lonely and horny. Dan Howell!"

- Okay they somehow really managed to capture the energy of the room which I was worried about. The sound leveling between audience and Dan is really well matched imo.

- He is SO SWEATY what the fuck how stressed was he because the venue really wasn't too hot honestly.

- My attention span is so much worse than when I was there in person holy shit.

- "After the show talking about what a good time you've had" and none of us have been able to shut up about just how much we loved it since 🥹

- The overalls are so bad for Dan, he has like no ass in them.

- Okay admission that @personthattoleratesme made fun of me for: during the YouTube swipe Montage I didn't realize all the other like Crafting, Baking, Shipping Container YouTubers was Dan the first time I saw the show...

- I am SO GLAD Froot Loops Tucan made it and the persons reaction and confidence is incredible.

- Dan's ability to go between talking about wanting to fuxk the Duolingo owl to the very real danger of social media influencing political elections is unparalleled.

- "Human communication. We want to come together with real people. Share stories, move each other emotionally with our words about depression and pensis."

- Imagine Dan Howell calling you hoe...

- Something about Dan calling himself a ditzy bitch gets me so bad every time.

- "Miscellaneous mentally ill nerds of London" best title I have ever been given.

- I liked Sundays madlips better :(( But wasn't faggots Sunday I am so confused now

- The screams for every Phil mention, we love him so much.

- I love Blame Game so much, some of my favourite parts from the whole show because the energy is unmatched. The fact that JKR gets a more severe reaction than Musk is actually so funny.

- Sunday crowd was the best, you can so clearly hear that the majority of people is calling freedom for Dan at the end aww.

- I need more bravery to fuck shit up, to not be so agreeable and complacent and be more disruptive honestly.

- After the calender bit his voice is so shakey and broken, I didn't hear that at all in person but fuck that just broke me.

- Yeah the last few minutes always get me so not much of a reaction to those other than I cried, again.

- What I found interesting was the parts that were left out? Cause I definitely noticed a few moments that didn't make the cut which I find surprising! Moments I noticed were the first mention of him only using two emojis, that's referenced again with the cowboy hat emoji and also he didn't include the iconic "Because time changes everything".

- I am so glad they managed to get All Star because it is simply part of the experience honestly. Nothing hit's quite like sobbing and then being hit with that song.

EDIT:

- I remembered something else I really loved: the music, I really think they choose such a good score, made such good little sound effects and the reaction I had to hearing it all live was amazing.

[kirkycurls]

You Jump, I Jump, Jack

When a gorgeous metalhead and his band move into town, your dreary summer pouring coffees is turned on its head—for the better.

Chapter Two

CW for this chapter: Mentions of alcoholism/mean drunk father, bullying, anxiety attack.

Flinging your house keys and some other bits into your handbag, you practically ripped your hair out of its ponytail as you held the wardrobe door open with your foot, eyes erratically scanning your array of neutrals and old tees for something a bit more glam.

You were getting worked up. Accosted by your elderly next door neighbour on your way home from work, you’d ended up with your head under her sink for the best part of an hour in an attempt to “knock some sense into that damn leaky pipe”. She knew you were good at fixing things and had used and abused that knowledge at least three times since the start of the year.

Eventually you’d escaped, explaining with a wave that you had to get an early night because you had jury duty the next day—a bold-faced lie you usually saved for only the most dire circumstances, which this was turning out to be. Margaret could, respectfully, screw herself. There was a cute guy waiting for you downtown and you were not going to be late.

You shot a glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table: 7.48 pm.

Okay, you breathed. You still had twenty minutes or so to get dressed and head out. It was only a fifteen minute walk from your house to work—ten if you power walked. But you didn’t want to get to Metallica HQ too early.

Pizza and beer. It would be nice. A chance to meet Kirk’s friends and see him again in a casual setting, sans coffee-stained apron and awkward customer service persona. And you really wanted to see him again.

You’d parted ways that afternoon with easy smiles on your faces and his hand falling a little too close to your waist as he’d thanked you for “showing me a hoppin’ time at Yvette’s coffee shop”. You’d snorted at that and blushed hard, your thoughts immediately jumping back to the cringeworthy drinks spillage. Something was definitely in the air between the pair of you and it was more than the electricity of the stormy weather.

As the thought of your last interaction with Kirk faded from your mind, your faint smile slowly succumbed to the weight of a familiar dread that had quietly invited itself into your bedroom and settled, heavy and grey, above your head. You’d known it would be paying a visit at some time this evening, but you’d so far held off its approach.

Pizza…and beer. If there were two things you didn’t like mixed, it was men and alcohol. In fact, you barely touched the stuff yourself, only giving in for special occasions.

It was your father’s fault. Night after night you’d lay in bed as a kid, eyes aching to close but knowing that at 2am on the dot he would explode through the front door after hours necking spirits at various bars with his friends.

You never knew what mood he’d be in. If his favourite team had lost a game, he’d return fuming, an active volcano slamming doors and swearing so loud it made you cringe with embarrassment that the neighbours would hear. On his happier nights he would be eerily quiet, but you could feel his fee fi fo fum energy coming up the stairs…alcohol running like a current through his veins, just one irritated moment away from getting nasty. 

That’s how your mother described those nighttime hours fraught with paranoia and anxiety… “Keep your door closed sweetie or your dad might get nasty”. And yet she’d stayed with him all these years, too in love; too far into a deep hole of denial.  

The relief you’d felt when you moved to college was unparalleled. You felt like a wave far out at sea, lapping and crashing undisturbed in a space that was entirely yours. A letter from your mother had arrived one day not long before graduation, letting you know she’d got the promotion she’d been chasing and would be working at a fancy bank closer to the city.

Your heart had leapt. You knew exactly what that meant—you’d been dreaming about it for months. Your now unemployed drunken Da would be upping sticks with her to a new house far away from you. You’d miss your mother of course, but if weeks at a time away from her meant exorcising your childhood home of him, you’d suffer the pain. She’d promised it would be your place anyway and you'd intended to make it perfect.

And perfect you’d made it. You'd spent the last few years ripping out the old kitchen, bathroom, master bedroom—anything permanent that served as a reminder of your father's leering presence. Long weekends spent in Yvette's rooms above the cafe embroidering cushions, painting landscapes and abstract nonsense to line the staircase, even testing out recipes from far-flung corners of the globe so that home cooking made your space smell like yours and yours alone. So much hard work, but it was empowering and proved you could take care of yourself; proved you could hold your own hand as a grown up, just like you'd had to all those years with the beast prowling around.

Yet all that focus on you and your haven had taken its toll on every serious attempt at a relationship since leaving college. Accusations of not wanting to commit, seeing someone else, even being too far up your own ass had followed you to mens' bedrooms (never yours) time and again. The last one had made you laugh. By that point you'd accepted you simply weren't ready for a boyfriend. You just couldn't let yourself trust that the next long-term male presence in your life would be safe. That was what it all boiled down to. You were still that frightened child, trembling under pretty pink covers, soothing whisky-stench nightmares by tending to her doll's house. Forever playing pretend. And none of the boys could see.

Except, maybe...

You sighed, refocusing on the task at hand. Drifting into a fantasy world was the last thing you needed right now.

7.54 pm.

The closet rail screeched as you gave in trying to be original and selected your outfit for the night.

It won’t be that bad, you thought. It’s going to be fine.

A little black dress sliding off its hanger.

So long as you keep it together.

And the sweet kitten heels.

It’s going to be fine…

✵

The temperature was comfortable as you made your way towards town, heels tapping rhythmically on the concrete and a gentle breeze whispering through your loose hair.

It was still light out, although the birds were calming and there were less people around than when you'd walked home after your shift. Nonetheless, you spotted a few stragglers here and there doing their best to clean up as much of the fallout from the last deluge before the next working day. It hadn't rained since lunch time, which at this point was nothing short of a miracle.

You'd caught the weather report before leaving for the night: clear this evening; clear tomorrow.

Wow, you'd thought. Could this actually be the start of summer?

Turning onto the street housing your journey's end, you peered up at Yvette's window. Her curtains were closed. You smiled to yourself. She was always back the night before. Never late. She loved her customers and her cafe too much to stay away for long, and lateness was practically immoral. No, she would be tucked up in bed watching Poirot until around 9, complete with a hot chocolate and a slice of leftover carrot cake Steven had saved for her. After that it was lights out. Many accidental sleepovers with paint up to your elbows and the soporific aroma of her vanilla-spiced perfume had taught you that.

You were in a better mood than before. In fact, you'd almost forgotten what you were worrying about as the thumping of a stereo to your left brought you to your senses.

But don't push me to the maximum

Shut your mouth and take it home

Cause I decide the way things gonna be

Okay, now you were excited.

Taking the steps to the main doors of the old Sunday school two at a time, you were met with the back of a delivery guy's head. Judging by the tower of boxes in his arms and, ugh, heavenly smell, the pizzas had arrived. You clutched your gurgling stomach, realising you hadn't eaten since the peanut butter sandwich you'd swallowed in a girlish daze after Kirk had left.

Hands fussing nervously up your torso to fiddle with the straps of your dress, you took comfort in the spare seconds you had unseen to make sure everything was in place. It wasn’t often you got dressed up, never mind agreed to hang out with a guy you actually liked, and there was no turning back now. 

“Whewwww, that’s what I like to see.”

You looked up to see the delivery guy staring anywhere but your face. His arms were now empty and reaching out as if to pull you into a bear hug.

“You don’t wanna hang out with these losers do you, hon?”

Behind him, the guy who’d accepted the pizzas cleared his throat territorially. 

“These losers are paying your wage tonight, buddy. Why don’t you get back on your bike and do your job.”

He placed the pizzas down on the ground beside him and straightened, arms crossed. 

The delivery guy stiffened, your radar for conflict responding in kind. Your muscles locked in anticipation of an argument.

“Or shall I tell Ricky you’re shorting people their change again?”

The delivery guy ignored him. He shot a smug smile in your direction and swaggered around you, painfully slow, taking his time down the steps and back to his bike. He said nothing.

You watched him sidelong before returning your attention to the disgruntled customer, satisfied there would be no fight. 

“You okay?”, he smiled, pure warmth bottled in his eyes. 

Something told you this was Jason. 

“Yeah”, you replied, tension melting from your limbs. “Um, Kirk said to meet him here ton—.”

“Oh it’s you!”, he interrupted. “Sorry, I didn’t know you’d be here so early. Didn’t Kirk tell you he usually turns up late to these things?”

Early?? So much for your plan to be fashionably late. You felt like an eager schoolgirl now. And dressed like a hooker... And why did you wear your hair down? They were all going to think you were—

“Oh no it’s fine, you’re welcome to come in”, he laughed, no doubt noticing the checked out look on your face that usually indicated panic beneath the surface. “I’m Jason”.

Bingo. Kirk was good at describing people’s energy, that’s for sure. Another point in your book. Perceptive. Attentive. You’d be in love with him by the end of the night at this rate.

You shook off your prior anxiety and returned a laugh.

“Hey Jason. I’m sure I’ll survive a while without him. You want some help with these?”

Nodding to the stack of pizzas at Jason’s feet, an image of lunch time lit up your mind momentarily, fizzling out again like a sparkler. You smiled.

Assuming this was due to any receding awkwardness, Jason smiled even bigger, which made you smile even more, until you were both grinning as he thanked you and agreed to split the boxes, although he took more than half. 

✵

Jason offered multiple apologies for various damp spots, cans of paint and trip hazards as you made your way in. The air was getting closer and almost sticky the further you went into the foyer, the music now thumping in your chest. Girlish giggles pierced the heavy bass at regular intervals and the smell of alcohol stung the inside of your nose. You shuddered, an all too familiar response. Then, as if passing the infernal gates and arriving straight into heavy metal heaven, the entrance area opened out into the main room you remembered from childhood. 

Your jaw dropped. Strung from every available fixture were wrinkled clothes and sagging travel bags; six mid-sized tables had been pushed to the left wall and were currently littered with old takeout packaging and empty beer cans; instruments were somewhat more carefully propped up beyond them in the far corner against a small army of equipment trolleys, a shelving unit above stocked with possibly the most extensive record collection you’d ever seen. The carpet had been ripped up and a few windows sat propped open using piles of newspapers. (You silently thanked the guys’ common sense, as the breeze that entered provided a pleasant respite from the fuggy air just outside the doors. You didn’t think you’d have survived the evening without fainting had you been forced to suffer it all night.) 

Kirk was right about removing the old furniture; the hundred or so chairs that used to fill the space like an assembly hall had dwindled to a dozen dotted here and there, mainly replaced by three leather sofas on your immediate left that were pulled in tight around a chipped coffee table you were pretty sure had been stolen from the staff kitchen. The right of the space was fairly empty, drawing attention to the expanse of flaking paint practically hanging off the wall. Tomorrow's job. You guessed this area would eventually become the studio setup. 

Finally, straight ahead at the back of the room were the stage and heavy blue velvet curtains you’d hidden behind with friends as a kid, giggling and making undeserved jokes about the nuns while you waited your call to stride out stony faced and depict various scenes from the Bible. It was smaller than you remembered and untouched by the band. Above it, a pint-sized figurine of the Virgin Mary hung demure and unspoiled. It was the only unmoving, peaceful spot left in this now chaotic place. 

Your reverie was interrupted as the evening’s cargo was lifted from your grip and set down on the coffee table. A grabbing frenzy started up as what seemed like a hundred pairs of hands tore the lids from the boxes and swooped in to claim a slice.   

“Dive in”, Jason said to the group sarcastically, turning to you and rolling his eyes with a look that said what can you do. 

“Five minutes and it’ll be gone, promise. You want a slice, you got to fight for it ‘round here.” 

He smirked and jumped over the back of one of the sofas, landing next to a waifish girl who promptly snuggled into his chest, content with her slice. Your eyes roamed the mess of tangled limbs flung in various positions across the sofas. Another two girls, who looked like twins but realistically had just gone for the exact same look, had a band member each to themselves. Lars (head thrown back in laughter, just like the first time you saw him), held two slices one on top of the other while a red-taloned hand gently stroked and tugged the lengths of his hair. Across the table, James sat the other girl in his lap, laughing through a mouthful of pizza and holding her tight by the waist. 

This girl you locked eyes with, and boy did she look like every Little Miss Popular you’d ever had the misfortune of crossing a school corridor with. Your throat tightened. She had a fiendish glint in her eye. She was about to make a comment—you could feel it. 

Mary, help me…

“How you doin’ pretty girl?", she shouted over the music. "Someone made an effort tonight. You hopin’ to get lucky?”

The noise died down the slightest amount as heads slowly turned to face you. A tiny flicker of anger nudged you in the gut—how could she possibly know whether or not this was you making an effort—but you ignored it and returned a warm smile. 

“Just dressed for a party, that’s all. Nothing special.”

“I’ll bet”, she replied, well-hidden poison nevertheless leaking from every fine line in her makeup; every crease she’d gained from snide smiles and viperous remarks over the years.

"Can it, Marth'", James squeezed the girl's waist, squeezing a horribly over the top giggle out of her at the same time. He met your eyes briefly with a faint look of camaraderie, jerking his head in greeting before turning back to his conversation with Lars. Marth shot you another snotty look and buried her face into the crook of James's neck. You had a feeling she wasn't done with you.

Luckily, the girl who sat with Jason was a friendlier sort. She called you over, grabbing your hand as you passed behind her and pulling you down onto the couch.

"Ignore her", she whispered in your ear. "She's only jealous 'cos she knows you're here with Kirk."

"But I—." She shushed you, eyeing Marth sideways with a look of tense worry, as if expecting her to produce snakes from her hair at any moment.

"She wanted him first. Got rejected. Very politely but rejected nonetheless."

Interesting. You'd never gotten a chance to get your own back on the cruel girls in high school, and despite your generally even-tempered, kind nature, you had to admit this was a confidence boost. Kirk had standards. And taste.

The girl cut in again before you could share your confession.

"I'm Claire by the way. You wanna beer?"

Crap, you thought. Here we go. You usually had a response planned based on the situation: I'm PMSing; I can't handle my drink in the heat—but tonight you came up short.

Claire was smiling at you expectantly. Little did she know there was a knot in your stomach growing tighter by the second. You wiped your sweaty palms on your legs and donned your best, most capable, carefree smile.

"Oh uh, no thanks. I don't really drink."

Motörhead, remember me now

Motörhead, it's only you now

Motörhead, only you, babe

Motörhead, yeah, yeah, yeah...

Silence.

You couldn't believe it. The song that had been bouncing full volume off the walls mere seconds ago had closed out right as you opened your mouth.

The air felt like it had been sucked out of the room.

Of course Marth heard immediately and let out the most condescendingly pitiful laugh.

"Oh sweetheart, how'd you expect to be a groupie if you won't drink a little?"

"Or a lot...", her ghoulish friend chimed in, both of them descending into a fit of laughter.

Lars was reclining with an amused smile. James was rubbing his temples like he'd heard all this before.

"I'm not a groupie and I have no intentions of becoming one tonight or ever, thanks." you shot back, glaring like something feral.

"Sure babe", Marth rolled her eyes. "Dressed like that and hanging out with a band on a work night? All for Kirk no doubt." Laughter again.

"Martha, enough!", James boomed.

You jumped, a lightning bolt of panic overriding your senses. Even Claire flinched. Men and alcohol. It was men and alcohol. Him. Again. Always and again.

Despite your best efforts to stay in control, you could feel yourself spiralling. A door banged somewhere. Someone entered or left. Had the windows been closed? It was so hot. Raised voices...

The ensuing argument was probably nothing more than a tiff, but your hearing was tinny and the edges of your vision were quickly turning black.

Everything muffled. Gasping for breath.

Thirty seconds felt like thirty minutes as you sat caged inside sensory overwhelm punctured with jolts of anxiety. To anyone else you likely appeared a little stunned and upset, oblivious to the chaos within.

More seconds passed. Sounds that might have been voices but could easily have been your own brain hummed and buzzed somewhere beyond your helpless body, which felt like it was shrinking to the head of a pin.

As you tried to steady your breathing, you calmed a fraction, staying earth-side long enough to notice a dark shadow crouched before you. It was barely recognisable through your swimming eyes as it placed a hand on your leg; then, a hand in yours. Warm, strong, grounding. You blinked the wetness away, now doing your very best to breathe normally and come back into the room.

“…over there?”

Definitely a voice. 

“…to sit over there?”, it said again.

Breathe.

Your vision was clearing. You glanced at the hands gently squeezing your forearms and up past a Night of the Living Dead tee tickled at the shoulders by a familiar mass of dark, curly hair. Then, ahh. Those comforting brown eyes. Now your cage was for two, but the bars were melting and a cool mist settled in tiny stars on your face. You turned to see Claire, perfume bottle in hand, spraying what could only be tap water on every bare patch of visible skin she could find and watching you like Bambi.

You swallowed. A sorry laugh cracked your dry throat.

"I'm fine, Claire."

Suddenly, smothered. Man was this girl a tight hugger.

"Are you sure?", she asked, pulling away only to play with the ends of your hair. "God you looked so pale. You wouldn't reply or anything it was like you were d—."

"Claire", Jason stopped her. "C'mon, let's go for a smoke. Kirk's got her." He mouthed a sorry as he prised the bottle from his girlfriend's hand and set it on the table, steering her towards the door by the shoulders.

Kirk.

You turned to him, feeling vulnerable and worn out. His gaze was sincere, roaming, protective. You couldn't hold it. Right now you were eleven and wounded. And he could see it. You knew he could. Something connected you both and it was sending coded messages back and forth in the jumping air between you. A different song was playing.

You opened your mouth to speak and he shook his head. It's okay.

All the energy drained out of you then and he hoisted you up, kicking beer cans out of your path and smacking the head of a joking Lars with a curse and an admonishing glare as he moved you away from the scene. Lars swore back then quickly returned to the group banter. Nobody seemed to have noticed your mini meltdown; they were too tipsy to clock such fine details.

✵

Sat on the stage on some cushions Kirk had propped up for you, you watched him empty the contents of a duffel onto the ground near Lars's drum kit and rummage around. He retrieved a heavy jacket from the pile and jogged over to the others to grab a miraculously still full box of pizza. Both arms full, he returned, disappearing from view momentarily as he took the creaking wooden stairs back up onto the stage, handing you the pizza and muttering under his breath as he emptied a random assortment of stuff from the pockets of his jacket. Once satisfied, he slung it round your shoulders and pulled it tight at the front, practically tucking you in like a baby bird.

It was far from cold enough to warrant such a thick layer, even with the open windows and sitting up here on the draughty stage. But Kirk had mistook your post-anxiety shakes for shivering and leapt into action. Besides, the look on his face as he'd noticed had warmed you more than any jacket could.

"Kirk", you said softly. No response.

You grabbed his hands, forcing him to stop.

"It's okay," you smiled. "I'm comfy."

He examined you for a moment, then released his hands and threw himself down to your right, punching the cushions into a comfortable position and crossing his legs to face you.

"You sure you're okay?" His eyes again roamed yours intently, scanning for any signs of distress.

"Yeah I am now", you replied, tucking your hair behind one ear. "Thanks for this." It was a small lie but you'd survived worse panic sessions than that and wanted to forget about it.

Kirk nodded with a smile, somewhat reassured.

"So, what was going on over there?", he asked tentatively. "You looked pretty wiped out."

"Oh", you managed, clambering for an explanation that wouldn't lead to that topic. You didn't realise he hadn't heard your tee-total confession. The door you heard must have been him arriving.

"It was nothing, um. I dunno I just felt a bit faint. Hungry I guess. Need to get some of this in me." You laughed, flinging open the pizza box.

Kirk eyed you suspiciously, your attempts to cover up your discomfort too stilted to come off natural. The corner of his mouth quirked into a sympathetic smile but he said nothing. He didn't know you well enough to poke about for more info.

You silently thanked his perceptiveness.

He was quiet for a short time, tearing a slice for himself and rotating the pizza to leave the cheesiest side with you. A butterfly stretched its wings in your chest.

"Aw, the heart attack side for me?" You batted your lashes cartoonishly, confidence returning as your meal became the focal point instead of you.

Kirk's hand clutched his chest in mock offence.

"Excuse me Miss Picky, I went to culinary school I know what I'm doing."

Show off. "Oh really?"

"Yep, can make you anything your heart desires, just say the word."

"Hmm, ham and pineapple? Can you make that work?"

"Sure can."

You scrunched your nose.

"Umm potato salad? That's so bad, bleurgh."

"I could make you a potato salad so freakin' mind blowing you'd eat it for a year and thank me." He threw his head back, arms wide open and shaking like a man possessed.

"Oh Kirk, god of potato salad, more, more!"

You didn't care if you scared the roosting birds into tomorrow with the banshee laugh that pulled out of you, he was just so... You couldn't explain it. He was just so him. And the ache you usually carried with you, of an empty space beside you, was almost undetectable as you sat up here with him now on this dusty stage and laughed and joked.

Talk carried on in that fashion for a while, debating about what made a stellar grilled cheese and Michelin-standard spaghetti, you boasting with none too feminine glee how your breakfast muffins were the talk of the town and even your black coffees had men lovestruck at your feet.

Kirk's gaze stilled on your lips at that, rich pools shaded by those lovely curls.

"They sure do."

Your fingers grazed the dusty stage floor absentmindedly, pricks of static adding a pleasant thrill to the memory of this morning. You knew Kirk was thinking of it too. You'd been stealing glances at each other since he'd arranged the cushions for you; drawing freckles and dimples, jawlines and lashes in your minds' eyes to pull out later and colour in with imagined touches when you were both alone.

An hour or more passed much the same as you dove into each other's hobbies and interests, Kirk lighting up as he spoke at length about his guitar and the band's upcoming gigs, offering recommendation after recommendation of horror films, comics, and kickass albums; meanwhile you shared stories of your amateur art, not-so-amateur house renovations, and hilarious mishaps at Yvette's.

Listener gazed intently at speaker, hooked on the most mundane anecdotes like a sugar rush. The pizza was quickly demolished, Kirk kicking the box off the stage with the force of an Olympic curler once you'd plucked out the last crust, sending you both into fits of laughter. The cushions were rearranged, then your bodies, as you moved from crossed legs to laying on your elbows facing each other, closer in the absence of the pizza.

One song faded out and another started, both of you taking a minute to sit and enjoy the silence and nurse your ringing ears. You were lost in a joyful daydream about a disastrous performance of Jonah and the Whale about fifteen years ago, the nuns frozen in abject horror as they watched a group of nine year olds pull water pistols out of their tunics mid-song and announce war on the "watery beast", nevermind that it was a life-saving gift from God.

You smiled, intending to share the tale with Kirk. He was chewing his lip and watching Martha follow James to the window, now as many drinks deep as there were cans of Aqua Net in her crispy hair. He looked troubled. You waited, still buoyed up by your daydream and the night's conversation, and were about to touch his arm when he spoke.

"Hey look, I know Martha probably started all that before."

His focus was still on the others, where an intense make-out session was currently underway between Lars and Martha's friend on the sofa where you'd previously sat. James and Martha were engaged in a tense bickering session, Martha's beer spraying the window as her arms flailed. James looked wild eyed and under the influence. You looked away. That image was too close for comfort.

Jason and Claire stood in a drunken embrace in the middle of the floor, laughing with their heads thrown back as they pointed at the dusty chandelier bolted high above. They were slow dancing to the current track—a crooning metal song that sounded weirdly romantic, even if the opening line was there's fifty-two ways to murder anyone.

A slight smile touched your lips.

"Don't let her get under your skin, okay? Cos' I'm glad you're here. I mean, not as a groupie or anything..." A tinge of pink coloured his cheekbones. You caught a view of his long, dark lashes as his interest was briefly held by a speck of lint on his shirt.

You mirrored this action, suddenly shy yourself.

"Thanks", you mumbled. "I'm glad you invited me. And I...I don't want to be a groupie anyway."

Now he was interested. "No? Why not?"

A breathy laugh escaped your lips as you considered.

Yeah, why not? You'd be good at it after all. Can't keep a guy. Always hopping from one to the next. You may as well just own—

You pushed the intrusive voice into the recesses of your brain and let your eyes wander Kirk's patient face. You knew he wasn't going to judge you. Even so, it was an intimate topic...

"Well, I uh", an awkward laugh. "I don't think I'd be first pick looking like this". You hadn't seen yourself in a mirror since your anxiety attack and assumed there were muddy rivulets of mascara crusting your cheeks. Not to mention your hair felt distinctly frizzier on one side due to Claire's perfume baptism and you probably had tomato sauce around your mouth. The chances you looked like a swamp monster were high.

Kirk appeared not to concur with this negative self-assessment.

"C'mon", he challenged, his expression screaming seriously?

You blinked. Seeing your blank face, he propped himself higher on his elbow with a disbelieving laugh and crinkled brow. You looked away, spotlight burning your face.

"Sorry", he laughed again, gently. "But you're crazy." You scoffed. You were self-conscious and yet desperate to hear his opinion.

Kirk continued, "If that lot cleared out", he said, pointing lazily to indicate the other girls—though you were sure he wasn't including Claire—"the guys'd be all over you. I'd have to fight them off." He hooked the fingers of his free hand into a claw and pulled a face like one of the creatures on his shirt, eliciting another, albeit more restrained, giggle from you.

Calming, you locked eyes with him again. Your cheeks warmed. He was nodding, brows arched and lips pursed, enjoying the effect this revelation was having on you.

"Yep. It's not every day a girl with class turns up at these things you know. Even got here almost on time just for you." He winked.

"Class, huh?" You pumped your eyebrows suggestively, biting your lip and hamming up the Martha act.

He rolled his eyes and waved a hand dismissively, shy once more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry", you laughed, tugging on his sleeve.

"I just... I don't think any of the guys I've dated would describe me that way."

A pensive gaze. Gears ticking in his brain.

"Yeah well, they clearly weren't seeing straight. Probably be bled dry on groupies if they were 'round here." A look of discontent hovered in his features for a second. Seconds ticked by as you considered him.

"You're really not into the groupies are you?"

He shrugged as best he could on one arm.

"I was, it's just...I mean some of them are great girls, like—not just sex, it's...". You let him think.

"It just wears out after a while, I dunno. It's not sustainable."

You nodded, sending him a comforting smile.

"Is that what you want then? Something, you know, long term?" A flash of possibility zipped through your brain; a picture of years from now. Who you might be. Who he might be. Who you might be together. You shook it from your mind. Not even twenty-four hours.

He closed up then, suddenly distant. You didn't think you'd said anything out of line.

"It's hard...trying to hold down something normal when you're in a band." He sounded so small. So young. You longed to reach out and comfort him with more than words.

"You gotta balance things. Make time for other stuff. I can't be here twenty-four seven."

Your stomach tilted, a wave of empathy for the sweet creature lay next to you. You didn't know what hidden things he was thinking about but you were grateful he was sharing all this. It was clearly personal.

You decided to push a little further, curiosity winning out.

"Is that why you were kinda late tonight?"

He looked at you, conflicted, as though urging you to keep pressing but simultaneously let him keep his privacy. You certainly knew that look. It eclipsed your features every time a guy asked why he couldn't stay over. Why it was always his place. You never told them. You let them try, then tire, then get frustrated and finally, leave.

"Just that Jason said you usually turn up late to these things. I thought—"

SMASH!

Sh-t.

The pair of you shot up. The ancient clock that had hung over the door to the foyer since the fifties was on the ground in pieces, chunks of yellowed glass standing to attention like stalagmites, others fallen chess pieces scattered in a radius of at least six feet.

Jason and Claire were nowhere to be seen and the girls were flat out on one couch, too much drink and too little pizza.

"You were meant to get a new nail for that, Laaaars", James staggered up from the adjacent sofa to inspect the mess.

"Was busy nailin' chicks, HA", Lars fired back, both of them absolutely wasted.

You erased the sight immediately. You didn't want nightmares after the best night you'd had in ages.

You hoped the death of the clock was your fairy godmother across the street defending the importance of an early night from her current jaunt in dreamland, rather than a bad omen, but luck hadn't been your destined bedfellow so far in life.

You brushed the crumbs from your dress with a sigh and stretched, standing up to collect your heels from where you'd tossed them a while ago and handing Kirk back his jacket. He followed your lead, shucking himself into the leather and rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as he waited for you to be done so he could focus on your face instead of your cleavage.

You straightened, the conversation of a few moments ago quickly receding into unreachable waters and remnants of the night's jovial tone returning to view.

"Guess that's a sign to head home", you shrugged, a nervous laugh overwhelming any other words. You didn't want to leave. You could sit on this stage all night with the boy stood before you until the stars twinkled and faded and a new day blossomed on the horizon.

But you also felt like a teen on her first date, overtly aware of your arms and legs, feelings and desires. How you were standing; what form the goodbyes would take. The things you'd said and everything you hadn't.

What were you now? Still acquaintances; friends; flirting partners? Would you still be welcome tomorrow? How were you gonna navigate the topic of your sobriety and the distress that came with it, should it re-emerge? You pushed it out of your mind. A task for another day.

Kirk kicked his cushions out of the way and offered a hand to walk you down the stairs.

"Yeah I might go soon too. Should probably clean that up so those assholes don't accidentally impale themselves." He rolled his eyes jokingly.

"Sorry that was your first impression of them. They're not all bad. Hope I left a better mark at least."

"You did", you replied, too eager.

He nodded, sucking his lip, a glint in his eye.

Outside on the steps he discretely pushed the offer to walk you home, eyes raking up and down the street for any signs of drunken idiots like the two inside. You declined with gratitude, taking a deep breath of the night air. It was fully dark now and the heat had broken. You felt refreshed, despite the nag of the goosebumps littering your arms and legs. Kirk noticed.

"Oh hey, keep this", he insisted, removing his jacket and draping it once more around your shivering frame.

"Thanks", you smiled, lashes downcast in anticipation of something more.

Would it happen?

Seconds passed on the concrete as two pairs of eyes glossed over the other's hair and cheeks, landing on yearning lips and drifting up again. Kirk took a half-step forward, the magnet in your sternum pulling you an inch closer, followed slowly by—

"Kirk!"

A sharp breath.

You both turned in the direction of the voice.

"Kirk! You gonna help or what cuz I c-can't hardly walk haha."

James was hanging off the doorframe and swaying like a tree in a tornado. You sighed, running a hand through your hair and taking a step backwards to leave. You finally felt tired.

You heard Kirk swear under his breath.

"Yeah James, f-ck. Just don't touch it. I'll be there in a minute."

He turned, the sight of you leaving knocking him into action. You felt an arm shoot around your elbow, balance nearly lost as you pressed your heels firmly into the ground.

You turned, smiling.

"Nine o'clock tomorrow. Don't worry, I know."

You pulled away from Kirk's tender grip and descended the rest of the steps, the smile never leaving your lips. The feel of his protective gaze resting softly on your back as you walked away never left until you were down the street and around the corner, out of sight.

[dellalyra]

Pixie’s JJK Theories

!! SPOILERS !! (225 included) if u don’t wanna know anything then don’t read <3

Okay so, I’ll try to make these make sense and put them in some sort of order bc I have so many ideas and thoughts they r swimming in my head :):)

Gna preface the whole thing by saying I don’t think Gojo is dead/will die, just from an editing/business perspective (I did 2 years study of being an editor and 5 years of creative writing studies, not an expert or anything so just MY OPINION)

So first theory set:

Who’s gonna kill Sukuna and Kenjaku?

Maki Kills Sukuna

I think that 225 has been a signal that Sukuna CANNOT be defeated/killed by cursed energy or techniques. I don’t know how to describe it best but think of Achilles, an unbeatable hero but he had that one weakness. Now Sukuna’s whole CT/DE is based around weaponry right? There’s literally nobody more talented with weaponry than Maki - it’s been hinted that she’s even surpassed Toji in terms of physical prowess since Mai’s death and the whole heavenly restriction thing. What if, he basically can only be beaten by someone playing his game: a proper fight? Think of it, maki has no CE, no CT, no DE. But she is completely unparalleled with weapons and cursed tools. What if - she’s the antithesis and also the mirror image of him and that’s what could take him down? Also: it would be a mirror of Toji V Gojo.

Gojo & Sukuna = Gods amongst Mortals

Maki & Toji = The Mortals

Toji’s lack of cursed energy and physical abilities also with the inverted spear allowed him to kill Satoru.

What if this will be repeated history with Maki - with something from the Zen’in vault?

If Maki could then save Megumi, then they could work to rebuild the Zen’in clan in their image: modern, fair and open.

That’s one theory anyway since we’ve seen that Sukuna cherishes and admires strength and power.

Theory Two

Choso Kills Kenjaku

OKAY SO Choso’s whole character is family. His whole aim since day one has been his brothers. What if choso kills kenjaku, as his revenge? Noritoshi Kamo is the one who both created AND destroyed Choso’s family - it would be poetic justice for Choso to be the one to kill him, since he has known nothing but manipulation and violence since his ‘birth’.

Theory Three

Yuuji kills Sukuna

Sukuna took so much from yuuji it would just be JUSTICE but also remember during the exchange event arc megumi really emphasised how even without cursed energy yuuji would still destroy them all in hand to hand combat? I think that’s rly important here. This kinda follows the same logic as my maki theory but I just have this feeling that Sukuna can’t be taken down with cursed techniques or DE, it has to be raw unbridled power. Like I said Sukuna respects and covets power and maybe it’s because he knows that’s the one thing that could kill a god like him.

Plus - this ties in with ‘start by saving me, Itadori’ and megumi and Yuuji’s promises and threats to not die. Regardless of whether or not u ship them romantically, their relationship (platonic or not) has been at the forefront of the entire series - it would make sense for Itadori starting his full Sukuna free life by the first person he really saves being Megumi.

Also I like this because remember the ‘Nah, I’d win’ conversion with Gojo? Wouldn’t it be cool if it was actually Yuuji who won - saving Gojo, Megumi and everyone else?

Theory Four

Inumaki is gonna have a big part to play. Idk what, but the timing of his return lends itself to this.

Also, Nobara isn’t dead. The other person that gojo Shoko and Ijichi were talking about was Nobara and she ain’t dead but severely injured and I think she’s gonna come in with a dramatic ‘here to save ur sorry asses’ moment bc it just is very on brand for her.

Theory Five

Why Gojover isn’t happening now/ever.

But especially now.

OKAY business perspective ik it takes away from the ‘story’ part but don’t forget that Gege has editors and he needs to sell more copies of future editions and chapters so a certain amount of fan service is required, Gojo stole the show literally - they know that killing him off is a bad business choice at any point, but especially in such an anti-climactic way.

Another rly important point is every character who’s had a huge impact on the story and then subsequently fuckin died, think Geto, Nanami, Toji - they’ve all had a poignant death and Gojo has had even more of an impact on the story.

Geto: you could at least curse me a little in the end and his moment w gojo in the alley

Nanami: you’ve got it from here looking at yuuji his protege who he was so tough on and then telling him essentially he trusted and believed in him

Toji: my kid will be sold to the Zen’in’s, do what you will after pushing gojo to unlock his full potential thru fuckin stabbing him and then gojo stopping the sale of megumi

After all of these deaths they’re not gonna do:

Gojo: 3 chapters, gets slashed in the neck and fucking croaks.

That’s just bad storytelling and no matter how cruel he is Gege is a phenomenal storyteller

NEXT point is I think this is where we’re finally gonna see some real RCT. It’s interesting how Gojo said he doesn’t mind going HAM on Megumi’s body bc he looks like his dad - I don’t think that’s a coincidence that he’s fighting someone who looks so like Toji and then gets slashed in his neck? Seems a bit like repeating history, but I think even Gojo’s RCT won’t cut it - I think it’ll be Shoko who saves him.

The giveaway for this for me was ‘You were never alone’ and her reminiscing. She’s always been there for the two boys and she always will be - she’s the most powerful RCT user and she’s never left Gojo’s side, and she won’t fail him now. She will heal his neck, because he’s not alone at the top of the food chain. Pair with this if Utahime is still using her amplification technique, Shoko is almost unstoppable in terms of RCT.

We’ve seen this situation with Yuuta and Yuuji too, so there’s canon evidence of its existence and potential.

Also - I don’t think the Tojification of Gojo is accidental or just gege having a hard on for Toji. This is again a Man Vs God situation, take this and use it on Toji (man) v Gojo (god), but now it’s Gojo (man) vs Sukuna (god). Ultimately, Toji killed Gojo. He killed a God by force. Maybe that’s some foreshadowing idk idk.

Theory six

Yuuta kills Kenjaku.

Don’t fight me on this one. It’s feminine intuition. Idk why or how or where but it’s gna happen.

Theory seven

Noritoshi Kamo kills Noritoshi Kamo.

The battle of the Noritoshi’s.

Won’t happen but would be funny and I would enjoy the confusion at the both screaming each others names and it being their own names like the confusion from Shibuya.

Theory Eight

I kill Sukuna and Kenjaku.

They’re testing my patience rn, and they’re hurting my babies. Mama Pixie is unhappy. I’ll chase after them both and beat them with a frying pan until they both apologise and get me a bouquet each for being such unruly boys and then they will make ‘I’m sorry for killing your brother/I’m sorry for taking your eye out/sorry for living in ur body and taking ur heart out/sorry for killing ur sister and then taking ur body/sorry for using ur ex-bfs body as a marionette’ cards for everyone and I put them in time out (hell).

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

Hi, hello, hola, it's me! This is not a WIP Wednesday post (well, the WIP is always me), but it's something.

First off, thank you thank you thank you to all the beautiful people who messaged me, or commented, or tagged me in things, or even just thought kind warm thoughts at me while I've been away and not writing. Brain not working good enough to sort through the things and tag properly but you know the drill - I love you all.

Here are things I did while I wasn't writing AKA while I have Big Sad Brain:

I visited London, and had a great time - eating delicious food, flat-sitting, visiting old haunts, picking up new ones, spending time with friends, and watching too much Shakespeare. The salted beef bagels in Brick Lane are still unparalleled, there were daffodils everywhere, and I brought home too much tea but not enough biscuits.

I buzzed my hair short again, and as EarlobeGreyTea said, "it really moved your energy from bisexual to lesbian," and then followed up with, "I'm glad that I, a man, could explain your sexuality to you"

I read a lot. I read The Locked Tomb series (I'm obsessed) and fell down a danmei pit (I have consumed SVSSS and MDZS but not yet TGCF) and I have spicy hot takes on why I did not enjoy The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo or The Starless Sea. I re-read all of Ann Leckie's books. I read The Future is Disabled in a Socialist bookshop in London, and I cried so fucking hard that the gentleman in the shop asked me if I was okay. I read The Song of Achilles and Circe and wandered down the labyrinth of getting really, really into Greek myth.

Speaking of: I bought an ROG Ally (horrible name, hate it, but the console itself is fine, it's like a more versatile Steam Deck) and I played Hades. So much Hades. So. Much. Hades. And every time I met Patroclus in Elysium, I bawled, "He's so SAD! He's such a SAD MAN! I need to make him UN-SAD!"

I finally finished the godforsaken Totoro cross-stitch pictured above. As soon as I framed it, I held it up to my spouse and said, "Could a depressed person make THIS?" and he said, "Yes" and then "Good job," because he's a lamb.

When I had energy, I cooked. I learned how to make carrot ginger dressing and shogayaki, and how to velvet pork. I made some of my standbys, like applesauce pancakes and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, and felt very Smug and Very Adult for putting frozen cookie dough into my freezer so Future Me could have cookies. I introduced my family to Uncle Roger and I've never heard my mother (1) get so angry and (2) laugh so hard. When I couldn't cook, I ate food that someone else made, and it was enough to celebrate: I ate a meal! I ate food! I fed a me! Hooray!

I spent time with my beautiful friends. I spent time with my beautiful family. They are so good and they have been with me through so many tough things and depressive episodes, through bullshit and drama and tears, like that time I screaming-yelled at someone over the phone (they deserved it) during an engagement party at the cabin and then I had to walk out and pretend to be Normal and got drunk on a lot of Old Fashioneds.

I grew things. Flowers and vegetables and herbs and I accidentally made a great home for some very invasive weeds. The squirrels left only one sunflower alone (they ate the rest), but even now in mid-October, there are still bright coral-red flares of peppery nasturtium, and feathery pale pink zinnias from my caretaker at work (who is an angel), and gigantic, blue-tipped borage. My best friend moved in down the street from me, so she's only a five-minute walk away, and now I can pick flowers and stick them in a vase and walk them over to her, and I love it. I grew too many tomatoes (they got..... scary. My favourite were the heirloom tomatoes, as big as my fist, that remind me of my Lolo) and forgot about the cucumbers (they got lewd) and let myself get coaxed into growing three different kinds of mint: chocolate, grapefruit, and berries & cream (because I'm a little lad who loves berries and cream).

I bullied my spouse into watching Practical Magic with me the other evening and every time That Fucking Cop came on screen, he said, "That Fucking Cop! This movie would be good but there's too much of That Fucking Cop in it" and I felt so v i n d i c a t e d

I tried to write. I tried to write. I tried to write. I tried to write, and then let go of trying to write and just let myself do all the other things that make up living, try to amend the soil so that something good can grow there again. I tried to talk myself out of unhappiness but it's funny how that doesn't work, how only hard-fought kindness has helped me trudge out of the swamp, again and again and again.

I had one of those moments recently that felt like it could have been in one of my stories. At Thanksgiving dinner, I was sitting next to my little half-sister-in-law (a mouthful, I know). She is seven and she lost her dad two years ago and she said, "I wish my dad was here." And I said, "I know, honey. I think we all do." And she said, "I miss his piano playing," because her dad used to play piano the other way someone else might doodle on a napkin - absentmindedly, brilliantly, while wearing a faded green apron and with a dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, in between checking if the roast was up to temp and pouring someone a glass of wine. Always red wine, from the Piedmont region, which is where my spouse's Nonna is from. I asked my little half-sister-in-law, "Do you think you'll learn how to play piano?" and she said, "I don't know," and I said, "It's okay not to know." And then she asked, "Do you have a Gothita?" and we went back to talking about Pokemon, which we had been talking about for a conservative 90% of the dinner.

I wrote this. I wrote this and it felt good to feel my fingers moving, it felt good to have words spilling from me, it felt good to have faith in words again, that the words could be something good, could do something good, that the worlds could just be and it could be good, and that I could just be, and that could be good. Just being could be good. Even if I never wrote another word ever again, just being would be good. As I said to one of my friends many years ago during some deep dark down shitty times, "It's hard work, being human. Thank you for doing the work."

Take care. I love you all. ❤️❤️❤️

[dropout-if]

hi izzy!! i’m not sure if you’re still doing the emoji asks hehe but can i ask for 🖍️🌈🌪️🌠☄️ for all the ros please?? thank you <3

Hi Nikka~ I'm still doing them yep🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️ I was looking forward to someone asking a few of those ty💕

🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them?

Generally, I'd tell everyone to see a therapist (I'm very tough-love-approach when it comes to giving advice so picture me saying all this menacingly).

Jade/Jean- it's okay to not be perfect, it's okay to not be needed.

Uma- your pain is valid but so is everyone else's. You should communicate more openly.

Statler- take a break. You deserve it.

Wanda- you think everything is dandy, but ignoring your problems doesn't make them disappear.

Kai- eat your veggies. Please. Take better care of yourself.

Travis- sometimes it's better to talk things out instead of bottling it all up.

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

Jade/Jean- “Don't be afraid to take risks and follow your dreams. Trust yourself more and remember that setbacks are just opportunities to grow stronger. And don't forget to cherish the moments with loved ones along the way.”

Uma- “Explore your creativity fearlessly. Don't worry too much about what others think. Embrace your uniqueness and let your heart guide you. Your journey is your own, and it's worth every twist and turn.”

Statler- (they're the kind of person who gives advice but doesn't really apply it to themself) “Don't be afraid to express your feelings and show vulnerability. People value your compassion and support.”

Wanda- “Don't be so trusting of people who promise you the world. Be safe. Love yourself. Take chances, have fun, and don't be afraid to express yourself. Follow your passions and let your infectious energy inspire those around you.”

Kai- “Be more confident. Care less about what people think. It's okay to be different and march to your own beat. Embrace your curiosity and dive deep into your interests.”

Travis- “Trust in your intelligence and your ability to achieve your goals. Focus on your long-term vision and don't get too caught up in petty conflicts. Your determination will lead you to success.”

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

Jade/Jean- I think J has always been J in a way. They were the first character I created for dropout and I've always had their character very clear. There's one thing that's spoilery to say but I did change their main conflict.

Uma- wasn't a tattoo artist originally, just a struggling artist trying to get through life. Uma wouldn't really want a life in which they didn't work through art, so tattooing was a very fitting solution (I was also cleaning one of my tattoos when I thought of it lol).

Statler- has probably changed the most? They used to be very stuck up and unkind they were honestly a little annoying to write? Their high school version retains some of those qualities but I like this self-sacrificing version of Statler much more.

Wanda- Gabi's dad was an important character in Wanda's plot but to my own daddy issues I completely erased him from existence lol.

Kai- wasn't originally into the whole sleeping around thing lol. They completely rejected people, even the idea of friendship. Kai atm is much more approachable, they want to be around people (but not too much).

Travis- there used to be no grievances between Travis and MC. He was the third best friend but as I developed his backstory... things changed. It's made his entire disposition towards MC generally more angry.

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

Jade/Jean- unparalleled success and recognition. Also enough motivation to finish their book.

Uma- inspiration to finally create a painting worthy of being in an art gallery.

Statler- world peace + the ability to heal and bring happiness to those they care about.

Wanda- to change the past.

Kai- to travel the entire world for the rest of their life.

Travis- complete control over his own destiny and the ability to shape the future.

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

Jade/Jean- J is always confident and has their life together. It is accurate to an extent. While J exudes confidence, they also struggle with their own insecurities, moods, and past regrets.

Uma- people often see Uma as carefree/careless and aloof. Uma is indeed a little serious toward strangers, but this is not the case with their friends. They also have a deep emotional complexity beneath their carefree exterior.

Statler- their life is perfect, as Statler themself is perfect. People also assume Statler is always the dependable and caring friend. They are most definitely not perfect, nor they have had the perfect life. Statler's caring nature is genuine, but they also grapple with their own challenges, including Noir.

Wanda- people tend to think Wanda is careless and naive due to her bubbly/vibrant personality. Wanda generally portrays a positive disposition, but she faces her own struggles as a single mother and has her own set of concerns.

Kai- a carefree fuckgirl/boy who doesn't seem to care about anything or anyone but themself. In reality, Kai's adventurous spirit hides deeper emotions, and their relationships have more depth than meets the eye.

Travis- people assume Travis is cold and unforgiving. Though they are partly right (he is somewhat spiteful) Travis' thought process is a little more complicated than that.

[noodle-anime]

OKAY EP 12 THOUGHTS

vash's hair journey was just me going "oh no" in two opposite directions. probably mostly shock but. hm.

"vash what product do you use your hair spikes are indestructible" "oh, it's the trauma"

zazie freaking out over the takeover but spending time in the middle of running away to rag on wolfwood for only having one body like a loser. also coming back to be like "why do u all hate vash so much it makes no sense" and troll meryl.

vash's life plan is about seven layers of "oh baby no" and "what else are you going to do when you're a pacifist nuclear warhead" and then some more shades of "oh baby no"

the big fight. like yes visually very cool and epic and i need to go back and watch it seven times but also unparalleled brother wrestling energy. vash bites. nai hears vash's huge ideology in the middle of their final crash and the only reaction he can muster is "150 years and this is the BEST you can come up with?????" almost verbatim. calls vash stupid.

MILLY! MILLY BABY! SHE'S COMING!!!!!

meryl depression glowup a+

MILLY IS COMING

the way they threaten meryl with sending her to the insurance agency is SENDING me. not "stop it or you're going to get fired." apparently this happens enough that their go-to solution is sending bad and naughty journalists. to insurance. why. who came up with that. what does it mean. fucking hilarious. was roberto drinking to cope with how he has to ride the line between his ethics and the rules of the gossip mag to avoid being sent to insurance.

baby cowboy nai. nai trying to occupy rem's role in vash's mind. not personally into this little fucker but i cannot deny that he is a delicious squeaky toy of irony and utter fucked-up-ness

wolfwood carrying meryl under his arm like a suitcase

MILLY IS COMING and she requested meryl by name? curious. i cannot wait.

the fights in this show have been driving me insane and vash vs knife tentacles was NO different. incredible. for some reason vash's reloading always catches my eye - the moment where he takes knives out for a moment, stands stock-still reloading and then immediately jumps into running frantically away was a really fun sequence. also first appearance of his fancy little reloading gadget!

the focus on the "one winged angel" made me chuckle but it's very cool and i like it a lot

okay this was a lighthearted post mostly but vash playing the piano. amnesiac and near comatose, playing two notes over and over again. i may not recover.

MORE STAMPEDE CONFIRMED. EXTREMELY EXCITED TO SEE WHERE THEY TAKE IT.

[safetycar-restart]

🎶guess who’s back. back again. 🍁’s back. tell a friend🎶

right okay. my boy is at church so attention turns to our bunny.

he’s so pretty. like the skiing photos oh my god. but just imagine you cannot ski or snowboard. but charles still wants to experience the snow with you? like he suggests lessons but can tell you aren’t very keen. so instead he books a day that you and him go sledging. and he’s so excited. and it’s so soft. both of you wrapped up insanely in matching colours. sledging down the hill and rolling around in the snow. and making a snow bunny and a snow angel. and eventually you get tired so just lie down on the hill? charles notices and plops himself down ontop of you. just to keep you warm and be close to you.

the day ends by the fire in the cabin. keeping warm by snuggling and giving him a slow handjob. except your hands are cold and it’s adding extra stimulation and charles just loses it. your cold, soft hands wrapped around him whilst you kiss him and are impossibly close to him? dead. died. happy but dead.

once he’s done and clean, you just sleep like that. warm, soft and happy.

-🍁

The utter power of the sentence “my boy is at church so here are horny Charles thoughts”. Absolutely incredible. Your energy is unparalleled.

Firstly, Charles would be so excited to teach you how to ski if you wanted to learn!! He gets so excited to go on a skiing holiday with you, and you expect him to be disappointed when you admit that you can’t ski at all.

But no. No he’s so excited!! Because now he can teach you, you can have your own personal ski instructor!! He’s perfectly fine with you not being able to ski. That doesn’t put a damper on the holiday at all.

What Charles wanted was to share his love for skiing with you, and so he’s perfectly happy to show you how to do everything. That sounds like so much fun.

But even if you didn’t want that, he still wants to share his love of the snow with you. So he looks at all the things on offer at the place you’re going to and he finds sledding!! That sounds so good.

It’s just the two of you, even if some of his friends also want to do sledding, he makes them book a different day. Because he wants a sledding date with you. No one else.

And it’s so much fun!!!

Charles hasn’t really tried sledding before and so to experience it with you? Amazing. He’s so happy.

You’re both all wrapped up in matching outfits and you share one sled despite there being sleds for both of you. Honestly it’s just an excuse to get close together while also having fun and it’s truly the best.

Charles decides he wants to build a snowman at one point, so you help him make one and then lay down in the snow while he searches for a stick so that the snowman can have a nose (he says it’s not complete without a nose).

Once the snowman is done, he comes to lay in the snow with you and snuggles up with you. He looks so cute, his little nose bright red from the cold and you just have to kiss it.

And then once you’ve kissed him once, you just have to kiss all over his face and end it with a slow makeout session. So you’re just cuddled in the snow, kissing softly.

You end up doing a little bit more sledding and then heading straight to the chalet. Originally you were going to go to the restaurant with his friends, but after his day out with you it was clear that he was feeling very small and subby.

So you just went straight to the chalet and decided to order room service later. You suggested the plan to Charles and you could see how relieved he was. Going straight to the chalet means that he can be a subby little thing for the rest of the day. That’s exactly what he wants.

Cuddling by the fire is so good!! He gets the fire ready and you gather the softest blankets you can, laying down some pillows on the floor and then cuddling with all the blankets.

At first it’s just a PG cuddle session, but Charles is feeling subby and he’s all safely snuggled against you and well, how is he supposed to do anything but get hard?? He can’t help it!! He’s your horny little thing.

So of course you take the blankets off and give Charles a slow handjob, he absolutely deserves it. He lets out the cutest little whimpers and whines against your neck, his whole body shaking.

Your hands are so cold and it adds a whole other level to it and you’re kissing him and letting him cuddle against you while you stroke his cock and it’s just… so good.

He has the best Dom ever.

[stormyoceans]

best kisses you've seen in bl in terms of physicality and physical chemistry?

okay, so, just as a quick premise, let me start by saying that physical chemistry and physicality in kissing are two very different things to me: physical (and emotional) chemistry is that spark, that connection between people that yes, actors can definitely work on to improve, but it’s hard to build it from zero if there isn't something there in the first place, while physicality (or ‘surrender’) is an element of kissing that depends on the actors’ performance and that can be directed in specific ways to match the tone of the scene. physicality can also vary between different kisses, while chemistry is more or less pretty constant, and you can definitely have one without the other

that being said, you will have to forgive me because my memory is really bad so im definitely gonna forget some obvious one, but here are some kisses where i think the actors show incredible physicality while also having great physical chemistry:

tan and bunn's hair grab kiss in episode 7 of manner of death. honestly i could have put ANY maxtul kiss here because they’re still unparalleled in terms of physicality in thai BLs imho, but i think this one perfectly shows why that is. it's just the way they're always grabbing and holding and touching each other, matching each other's energy and intensity every step of the way.

shi de and shu yi's confession kiss in we best love: no. 1 for you. once again i could have put any of their kisses here because sam lin and yu are INSANE when it comes to physicality. this one is great because you get a first kiss where shu yi grabs shi de and kisses him to try to convince him about his feelings, and you can see how their bodies are far apart and shi de's arms just hang there, then there's a second kiss, after shi de finally believes that shu yi likes him back, where their physicality has completely changed: their arms are around each other now and there's no space left between their bodies.

pat and pran's rooftop kiss in bad buddy also follows this pattern, but sadly we don't get a wider shot of the second kiss. the way they both hold each other's face during it is still a sign of very good physicality tho.

also, as upsetting as that scene can be, i think the entire shi de and shu yi's drunk kiss in we best love: fighting mr. 2nd is a master class in physicality, in how it doesn't always have to be a positive one for it to work and in how it can change throughout the same scene.

bai lang and jin xun an’s dentist chair kiss in my tooth your love. it’s the same director as we best love and i think it shows. when you have great actors who are comfortable with each other and a good director, then the quality of the work is obvious in the kisses as well. for this one in particular, i LOOOOOVE how tangled together they are on that stupid ass chair.

nuea and syn’s lap sitting kiss in cutie pie 2 you. possibly unpopular opinion.. i think tutoryim have much better physicality than zeenunew and maxnat ;;;;;;; and i like this kiss because it starts with syn’s hands on nuea’s shoulders, and then the more passionate the kiss becomes his physicality matches the intensity of it and he ends up with his arm AROUND nuea’s shoulders.

ji woo and seo joon's first kiss after being reunited in to my star 2. im not gonna lie, i actually have some issues with this second series, but this kiss is definitely NOT one of them. the leaning, the hesitation, the way they hold each other.... incredible amazing showstopping spectacular.

kinn and porsche’s goodbye kiss in kinnporsche. i really wanted to include this one because i feel like very often physicality is equaled to high heat, which i mean.. of course if things gets heated i expect a certain level of physical touch, but even the most chaste kiss has its own physicality: it’s the way the bodies respond to each other and match the tone of the scene. in this case the kiss is full of desperation and that’s perfectly delivered by the way porsche wraps his arms around kinn’s neck and kinn grabs his back.

so, yeah, these are the ones that come to mind just off the top of my head, im sure there are many more i just can't remember or think of rn ;;;;;

bonus because im insufferable: puen and talay's bathtub kiss in vice versa is ALMOST PERFECT but jimmy moving his hand away from sea's face, while allowing full view of sea's neck which makes you understand just how trusting and vulnerable talay is in that position, sadly kinda takes something away from the physicality of it all.

last but not least, i wanted to add that good technique in a kiss doesn't always equal good physicality: two actors can be sucking each other's tongue but if their bodies are miles apart while they do that then it can't really be a good kiss in my book (no shot fired btw, im just.. talking in general ;;;;)

[citynewsglobe]

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[ezeecarrental]

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[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

OH MY GOD YES! Okay, so the entire first season is online for free. It's also for free on Spotify as a podcast. It's genuinely... so good. Like... Genuinely.

Dimension 20 is the name of the show and each season is a different Dungeons and Dragons-esque campaign, some seasons are better than others but genuinely all of 'em are amazing.

My personal favorite is Fantasy High, which is like Breakfast Club meets Lord of the Rings meets DnD? It's fantastic and also the first season of D20 (so on YouTube for free). The production quality is.. not bad? But definitely nowhere near the later seasons because they've improved with each season but the star of the show is the amazing comedians behind the characters and the energy and the story. It's truly something else.

The other seasons are all on Dropout, which is a streaming service. I think you get the first month free if you sign up? I've been signed up for a while and the content on there has never let me down.

There are 21 seasons of D20 and my top recommendations would be this:

1. Fantasy High Season 1, Season 2 (keep in mind, during pandemic) and Season 3 (currently airing new episodes every week)

2. A Starstruck Odyssey (Unparalleled. Transcendent. Just the MOST fucked up guys and a very competent office worker in space. The funniest shit you will EVER watch. Would've been #1 if not for the nostalgia factor)

3. A Crown of Candy and then the prequel, The Ravening War (Game of Thrones meets Candyland. Warning: You WILL cry)

4. A Court of Fey and Flowers (Shakespeare and political intrigue but in the funniest fucking way possible)

5. Mentopolis (Osmosis Jones meets the Noir genre feat. Hank Green)

6. Misfits and Magic (FUCK WHAT EVERYONE ELSE SAYS THIS SEASON WAS HILARIOUS! Genuinely, D20 spent an entire season just relentlessly mocking Harry Potter lore and I AM HERE FOR IT. EVAN KELMP HAS THE BEST MOMENTS OKAY?!)

7. Burrow's End (.... do you know what Watership Down is? What about Chernobyl? ... Keep those in mind...)

There's also a ton of others that people really like (Unsleeping City S1&S2, wasn't my thing personally but other people really vibed with it) and seasons that I haven't watched yet but that are on my list (Dungeons and Drag Queens looks amazing, as does Tiny Heist featuring the McElroy family from My Brother, My Brother and Me)

Anyway, if you like great stories, great characters, comedy, improv and DnD I HIGHLY recommend this series!!!

does anyone know where to watch dimension 20? or play/read it, if it's a game/book/comic. i've been finding sm stuff about it and it looks interesting BUT IDK WHERE TO WATCH IT AAA

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided)  ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too. 

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby. 

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air. 

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully. 

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr. 

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby? 

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too. 

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen. 

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration. 

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic 

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised. 

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively  good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls.  The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly,  “get my pretty name out of your mouth.” 

There’s a pause full of tense silence. 

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.” 

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis. 

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

  ✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing. 

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan. 

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour 

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. 

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno. 

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi. 

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao 

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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

 Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

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The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙