#this isn't even my final form for crack ship

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: things aren't looking too good, so the crew decides to open the cargo hold and find out just what you were delivering.

tw: nothing that isn't in the game.

a/n: Updates might be a bit more spaced apart, but I'm gonna see this to the end. I refuse to give up on it.

wc: 2k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

“I didn’t even wanna do this stupid internship.”

An admission into the night you're sure you weren’t meant to hear. Your insomnia grew worse, unable to get Curly’s painful screams out of your head or the plight you all found yourself. Only two months have passed, and you weren’t sure if anyone was even looking for you. Did Pony Express even have any tracking system to see if ships were down? Would they search when it was already too late? 

Your pessimism was shining through, but you tried to keep it to yourself, not wanting to smother Daisuke’s hope. It seems even he was prone to dark thoughts, but you’d be more concerned if he wasn’t worried at all. 

“If I just told my mom no I could be home right now,” Daisuke continued to mutter to himself. “Who am I kidding, I could never tell my mom no.”

“I wish you did,” you replied, eyes still closed and curled up in a ball.

“Y-you’re awake?” Daisuke gasped, but you made no sign of movement.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your face farther into your pillow. “I wish you weren’t here.” Your words were harsh, causing the brunette to hesitate. You had gotten harsher after the crash, becoming more blunt.

But you had also gotten softer somehow. Sending him mixed signals, your harsh words softened when you gently stroked his cheek, eyes finally opening to meet his own. Anger, fear, sympathy, regret, so many emotions spun in your jewel colored eyes he almost felt dizzy. 

“I wish we met before this,” Daisuke said, voice cracking as he felt pressure form behind his eyes. Shit, he didn’t wanna cry, he had to be strong, for you and the rest of the crew. 

Your fingers brushed under his eye, catching a tear that was threatening to fall. Your silence felt warm, inviting, your gaze broke him, the dam breaking as his wishes spilled past his lips.

“I wish we were back on Earth. Hanging out in my room and this all just ended up being a bad dream. My mom calling us for dinner and everything is okay.” 

He was crying now, fat tears falling down his cheeks as you continued to stroke them. Daisuke wrapped his arms around your form, burying his face in your neck as he let out strangled sobs, not wanting to wake the others.

“I’m sorry,” You murmured into his hair, gently running your nails up and down his back in a soothing manner. “You don’t deserve this, none of us do.” 

…

“We ain’t touching the damn cargo,” Swansea argued. “The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dyin’ slowly is not gettin’ paid.”

The whole argument seemed redundant. It seemed that Swansea was the only one against opening the cargo hold. He was a stubborn old fool in your opinion. If your speculation is right, and you won’t be looked for until your ship doesn’t come on time, then you’ll all have died from either starvation or lack of oxygen. Both those options seemed terrible to choose from, but a long, drawn out death was worse than a short painful one. For all you knew, you all were shipping food, or water, or something that could keep you all going just a bit longer. Especially since the cryo chambers were out of commission (not like there were enough for the six of you anyway. Besides, Curly had no chance to survive the freeze due to his wounds). 

“But it could be something useful,” Anya argued back. “I think-”

“Could be what?” Swansea cut her off. “Hopes, dreams and marzipan? Hah!”

“Could be food,” You interjected, glaring at the oldest of the crew. “Protein bars, chips, hell maybe we’re lucky enough to be carrying canned goods.”

“If it helps us survive it’s worth it,” Jimmy added with a nod. 

“Man,” Daisuke spoke up. “Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh? C’mon, a quick look won’t hurt.” 

You nodded in agreement before Swansea brought up a good point, “How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on gettin’ in there?”

“Oh, right here boss,” Daisuke pointed to himself with a smug grin. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team! Nearly straight up corked a kid once! I can take the utility ax-” You couldn’t stop the snort that came out of you, hiding your face behind your hands as everyone looked at you with various emotions. 

“You were goddamn born fully corked,” Swansea glowered, face twisted in a harsh sneer. 

“That’s enough, Swansea,” Jimmy intervened. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.”

“If I remember correctly from reading the safety protocols…” Anya trailed off. “The doors should have an alternate access code, but it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.”

“And only the captain has access to the scanner,” Jimmy continued. 

“Of course! Go ahead, just ask him all about it then,” Swansea mocked. “Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.”

“We can just look for the scanner,” You brought up. “It’s probably either in the captain's quarters or the cockpit.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Jimmy waved you off. “For better or worse, I’m captain now.” You tried your best to hide the offended look that fell on your face, but it was hard to do so when Jimmy rubbed you the wrong way. Sure, it made the most sense for him to be acting captain since he was Curly’s co-pilot, but you didn’t like the way he acted like he had to do everything himself. It was giving you ‘I need to do everything my way and feel better about myself’. 

“Right on!” Daisuke cheered, before you all split your ways. Anya ran off to medical, Swansea stopped Daisuke from following him while Jimmy probably went towards the cockpit. That left you and Daisuke to sit in the rest area, the led screen shone an image of a warm sunset, permanently stuck after the crash. 

“You really think there might be food in the cargo?” Daisuke asked, resting his head against the top of the chair.

“It’s probably wishful thinking,” You grumbled, taking the seat across from him.

“Damn,” He sighed. “I was kinda hopin’ for something other than soup.” 

“You dissing soup?” You asked, raising your eyebrows. “I’ll take your portion too if you don’t want it.” Wait! No!” Daisuke exclaimed with a chuckle. “I take it back, I mean I love love love soup and want to eat it every day!”

“You’re such a dork,” You laughed, gently kicking his foot. 

The door slid open, halting your conversation as Jimmy walked up to you both. He stared at you both intently, and you felt a bit uncomfortable at the irritable stare in his eyes. You slowly realized he always looked that way.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner,” Daisuke spoke up first. “You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?”

“That’s my favorite,” You pouted. Daisuke tended to make you feel more relaxed, no matter the situation.  “Ah, nevermind then,” He sighed. “It’s theirs.” Gosh, he never failed to make you feel warm either, even in your dire circumstances. 

“How much food do we have left?” Jimmy cut in, ignoring your banter altogether. 

“I’d say four months-ish,” Daisuke replied. 

“Hmm, less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last,” Jimmy muttered to himself holding a hand up to his chin. “In theory. We’ll be poking new holes in our belts to pull that off.” The thought of starving unsettled you, but it was an unfortunate possibility. But then the question is how much air supply is left? That was something you couldn’t conserve…well, unless someone died…but even then it wouldn’t be much.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back,” Daisuke laughed, trying to keep the atmosphere light. “I’ll look like Swansea!” You chuckled bittersweetly, shaking your head amusedly. “We’ll have a rad story to tell,” Daisuke continued, looking between you and Jimmy with a strained smile. “They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” Once again there was a pit in your stomach. No matter the outcome, you were sure to appear on TV…

Jimmy also seemed uncomfortable, eyes shifting, and posture ridgid, “Uh, it’ll impress the ladies too.” You nearly broke out laughing at how awkward Jimmy was, coughing into your fist to hide it. Even funnier was it seemed he didn’t realize you and Daisuke were already in a relationship.

Daisuke looked confused, glancing at you briefly before uttering a confused, “Uh…yeah…the real problem is running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” This time you couldn’t smother your laughter, hiding your face from the two men before you. 

“Seriously!” Daisuke emphasized, grin turning brighter at your laughter. “We should leave that part out for the press.”

“Totally,” You agreed. “Wouldn’t want the ladies to know.” This time Daisuke snorted, Jimmy nodding uncomfortably before leaving. The two of you cackled for a few more seconds before calming down.

“I thought everyone already knew we were dating,” Daisuke said, confused. “Not like we’ve been hiding it.”

“Just goes to show how much he cares,” You shrugged with a sigh. 

“You think he got the code scanner?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I’d think so,” You nodded. “Wanna head to the cargo hold?”

“Yeah.”

…

Mouthwash. 

You were hauling fucking mouthwash. 

It felt like a tiny bit of your sanity slipped away. You weren’t the only one though, everyone looking at the contents of the box in disbelief. 

“Mouthwash?” Anya asked in a shaky voice.

“Un-fucking-believable,” Swansea cursed. 

“There’s gotta be an ocean of the stuff in here!” Daisuke exclaimed. “The room looks freakin’ endless!” You felt dizzy staring at the rows upon rows of shelves, boxes stacked to the brim on each one. 

“This is what they’d have six people hauling for over a year?” Jimmy scoffed in disbelief. “All of this…for mouthwash?!” You tensed slightly at his shout, but quickly focused on Anya as she spoke up.

“The sugar content probably offsets any potential as a disinfectant…” Anya informed, reading the ingredient content. Great, this was completely and totally useless-

“Disinfectant? What’re you-” Swansea grumbles. “Let me see that!” Snatching the bottle Swansea reads the contents as well. “Fourteen percent ethanol.” Suddenly he bursts out laughing, seeming a bit manic. 

“Haha?” Daisuke gave a confused laugh, clearly not understanding the implications. “I s’pose we’ll smell good at least…?”  “That’s right kiddo! You can bet your ass on that!” Swansea continued to laugh. 

“W-what are you doing?” Anya stuttered, eyes wide in concern. “Stop that!” Instead, Swansea starts to chug the blue liquid, causing your stomach to churn. 

“Whew-whee,” Swansea, sighs. “Ohhh, shut up. I’m just an ol’ codger taking care of his dental hygiene.”

“You hear that?” Swansea continues, glancing at you all. “That’s the sound of fifteen years of sobriety popping like a cyst. A glorious, magnificent, red hot cyst. Good riddance and cheers! To Captain Curly! Hear, hear!”

“Guess anyone could get seriously blasted off of this stuff,” Daisuke mutters loud enough for us all to hear. 

“Yeah, and give you a seriously bad stomach ache,” You grumbled. 

“And kill you in the process,” Jimmy huffed. 

“This can’t be real,” Anya bemoans. “I-There’s no way…”

“Now we can go out in style,” Swansea grins nihilistically. “Daisuke! Come here! Anyone ever teach you how to drink like a man?” 

You felt your stomach drop, one alcoholic was bad enough, you would be damned to let Swansea drag Daisuke down with him. 

“C’mon,” You muttered, grabbing Daisuke’s hand and dragging him past the rest of the crew, head down. 

“Somthin’ wrong?” Daisuke asks once you're both back in the main hull. 

You blinked at him like he was dumb, “Seriously? This whole situation is wrong! And now Swansea’s out of commission if he’s gonna nurse that goddamned mouthwash!” You let out a frustrated sigh, running your hand through your hair. 

“And he’s trying to take you down with him.”

“I won’t drink it if that’s what you’re worried about,” Daisuke mumbles softly, eyes filled with concern. 

You side-eyed him, feeling anxiety claw at your chest, “And how do I know you’ll keep that promise?”

Daisuke opened his mouth, but nothing came out, confirming your fears.

[lopposting]

guys.

I think I did it.

I think I cracked Lies of P.

(me rn)

i keep going back and forth on carlo's death.

i know i was adamant before, on him dying from the petrification disease. i think logically he would have to have had it because of ergo.

but here's another weird point about his death,

i just realized why we intrinsically think he was killed.

Carlo is wearing his school uniform when his stalker finds him, and on the floor at that. That's quite odd. Maybe not being on the floor, but the uniform. Why the uniform?

"He didn't even come to your graduation?"

For the son of an aristocratic family, would this be the image of a deathly ill son in care? Did Geppetto know? Wouldn't he be in palliative care, as Lady Antonia could afford?

Why wear the uniform after graduating?

"Oh, she's here! Grab her!"

"...Gemini, get rid of them! I'm off!"

Was his death literally right after his graduation, on the same day?

And also, Gemini is a little lamp guy. (She doesn't look to be carrying the lamp.) Why does she tell him to take care of the boys? What can he even do? Tell them off?

Here's another funny thing... We NEVER see Carlo outside of his school uniform. (at least, in the "past", "real" Carlo time line).

And as we know, the school uniform has a prominent Sailor collar, the type that is associated with nautical outfits [down to the three stripes, supposedly called a "naval collar"]. The Graduation pendant that he gives to Romeo is of an anchor. [I know that these are all artifacts of the charity house. but they are nonetheless associated in tangent with Carlo]

When we find Carlo's painting, it's right next to this one of a ship. [also, two bottles on the counter, perhaps representing the "two lives" of Carlo and Pino]

also... when Carlo's memories materialize... it's in the sand. Only on the seaside.

Remember, Romeo seems to be associated with a fire element, and Pino with water, the same seems to go with Carlo. The original novel of Pinocchio itself seems to have a strange fixation on the ocean.

And now, might I present to you:

The DLC images are also of a ship and some kind of water turbine.

Director Choi (in pre-release interview): "I'll put it this way: there are more stories I want to tell in Lies of P, so I hope [it] does well."

Also: "There sure are stories we could not introduce in the game" (talking about the story being adapted into another form)

[basically, that there was more to the story than what was really present in the final game.] I'll leave all this to your consideration without adding my own just yet. (I'll add it in a reblog on my own blog without tagging it) Just kidding I want to keep wasting everyone's time

Perhaps after the events of the game,

This is some sort of effort by Pino to either learn more about the deceased Carlo or try to remember his "previous life" as Carlo, by taking to the sea.

Maybe even after the game, Pino will STILL attempt to "awaken" as him so to speak [:(].

[Maybe he actually will.]

Again, Carlo is strongly associated with nautical elements. Again, he is never seen outside of a sailor suit, basically. Also, when we gain the memories of Carlo, they materialize on the sand, at the seaside. Remember, he DIED in the sailor outfit

Maybe we are to take the "sand memories" more "literally" as they are in the sand?

Did Carlo drown and his body wash ashore, which is why these memories materialize in the sand? Why is he so associated with ships?

Pino is also depicted in the water, remember, including what looks to be concept art that was used for the OST? Maybe it isn't "just" a motif? [even simple things like his "official" coat and his eyes being blue, blue blood's tailcoat, and him being associated with the colour blue in general]

Which is why Pino is pictured in the water, since he was "born" from Carlo's death... He was birthed in the water the same way Carlo died in it?

[more notes in reblog]

[kiyomitakada]

This is for research, Light reasons. Curiosity. He’s been on plenty of Kira fanwebsites; it makes sense to conduct an impromptu survey on how he’s seen in a rather different audience.

Research.

He holds his breath and clicks.

Title: got so close (but then you lost it) Rating: E Category: F/F Fandom: Kira Investigation RPF, how the fuck is that a canon tag Ship: L/Kira Tags: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Object and Concept Anthropomorphism, i think kira should take the L for once, if you know what i mean - Freeform

Notes: hahahahahaa hiiiii yall bet you thought you’d seen the last of me. its been a couple of rough months but im back! if my therapist sees this uh. sorry? this counts as processing my feelings right

Maybe Light should stop. Surely a work written by someone who doesn't even use apostrophes or punctuation consistently can't be good quality. Besides, what is a work about a serial killer doing in the E rating? Doesn't that mean E for Everyone?

…Then again, it's not like he's reading this for its literary value, he reasons. It's just. Research. Curiosity. If it's really bad, maybe he can make fun of it with Ryuk.

Kira throws the doors of the final room open. Her voice rings out loud and clear: "Where are you, L? Hiding like a coward?" She receives no answer. Kira exhales, brushing her free hand against her T-shirt. There's no need to hurry. She has all the time in the world; the alarms are disabled and she's killed all the guards, after all. Tracking down L's hidden compound had been the difficult part. It was easier than pie to break in. At last, she thinks, this will be her perfect victory.

Oh god. Oh god, someone put effort into this. Light doesn't know whether to be flattered or horrified.

(Why can he hear this in his voice?)

The control room is silent but for the humming of thousands of monitors mounted on the walls, all displaying static now thanks to Kira's interference. "I know you're there, L," Kira says, taking one step forward. Then another. "You can't hide from me forever." "You're right," says a new voice. "I wasn't hiding in the first place." Kira turns towards it, gripping her scythe in one hand—

"My what," Light says aloud.

—and nearly gasps when she identifies the source: the large L painted on the back wall. Her mind whirls. Another recording, just like the one a million people had heard from the TV that day. L's hiding behind an image again. "Very funny," Kira says. She's blocked all the escape routes; the real L must be in this room somewhere. "Show yourself." "As you wish." And then the painted L peels off the wall. Kira jumps back despite herself. The scythe clatters to the ground. The L is just a few centimeters taller than her, a fact that Kira instinctively resents, and it's the same font as what Kira had seen on television: the smooth vertical curve, the jagged angle, the protrusions from the spine. Her heartbeat quickens. Kira, despite being a magical girl—

"I'm a what?!"

—is ultimately still human. This… thing is decidedly not.

"Why am I the human one," Light mutters. She — he hasn't quite gotten the hang of this 'archive' yet, but he's searching for ones where he has wings later.

"What are you?" Kira asks, trying to flatten the tremble in her voice. "I am L," says L. "And I'm a girl, just like you." "You're a letter," Kira says. "An alive letter." "I wasn't always this way," L says. Its — her? — voice is matter-of-fact. "But it was… easier." "Easier to what?" "Tell me, Kira," L says. "Do you ever feel… uncomfortable in your own skin? Do you ever feel like you were born to be something else, something greater, something beyond your original form? Do you ever feel like you died a very long time ago?" Kira swallows, and stays silent. "Well, it doesn't matter," L dismisses. "It's far too late for you to change." "It's too late for anyone to change," Kira corrects. "You've seen recidivism rates. Criminals are rotten all the way to the core."

"That's not right," Light mumbles. Kira isn't just trying to get rid of all evil people in society; Kira is trying to scare everyone into being better. Of course behavior can be changed, corrected. What's the point of a new world if people can't improve on themselves?

…Then again. Light can't help but agree, just a little. Some people are beyond help.

(They have to be. Otherwise, why would the Death Note have dropped into her life?)

(She's doing the world a favor, honestly.)

"And what about me?" "Huh?" "Am I," and L leans in further, the serif tail at the top of the letter almost brushing Kira's cheek, "rotten to the core?" "I…" In an attempt to tear her gaze away from L, Kira finds herself tracing the lines of the letter with her eyes: the mathematically perfect arcs of her back interrupted by those sharp spikes of decoration. She feels herself oddly compelled to touch them.

Light pointedly does not think about the real L's hair.

What is she doing? Kira shakes her head, snapping out of her reverie, and dives for the scythe. Her fingers wrap around it just as she crashes into L's two-dimensional feet and L folds like a blanket, covering her in unexpected warmth before Kira scrambles back to her feet. "Monster," she shouts, pointing the scythe decisively, "I see you thus and I name you L!"

Well. That explains the magical girl thing. In retrospect, it does make more aesthetic sense than the notebook.

The scythe sparks; a beam of light bursts from its tip and — Stops. Kira watches in horror as it fizzes into nothing. A low chuckle fills the room. Something hot surges in Kira's chest: fury. "A bit difficult to conduct your magic when I have no face, isn't it," L says. She's shifted to lounge languidly on the floor, rather than sprawled awkwardly across it. "That's not — fair! Just looking at you should be enough!" "The world isn't fair, my dear Kira," L says. "As I'm sure you know best." Kira's free hand clenches into a fist. There's nothing for it. She's going to have to strangle this letter-girl. She's going to have to stop her breath at its root. "Well, Kira? What are you going to—" Kira drops the scythe and pounces. L twists away too late; Kira is already on her, one foot hooked over the bottom stroke of the letter to prevent her from running, her hands straining towards the juncture between L’s serif and vertical curve. L is so very warm, almost searing under Kira’s fingers as they close around her throat. L groans. The heat in Kira’s chest abruptly changes directions to pool in her stomach. It occurs to her distantly that if L can’t be counted as having a face, it’s entirely possible that she doesn’t need to breathe, either. Kira can’t bring herself to care. Here L is, her worst enemy, completely under Kira’s thumb — the exhilaration leaves Kira’s throat dry. "What do you think of that, L?" She tightens her grip. L makes a choked sound; the two lines of the letter’s throat shudder beneath Kira’s fingers. "You like that?" "Please," L gasps, "I need—" "Use your words," Kira hisses. Curiosity drives her to slide a finger into the crack between the two lines that make up L’s vertical stroke, and to her vicious delight L whimpers. "Come on, L, what do you want?" "Keep doing that," L says. The cool voice from the public broadcast, rendered into shreds. Kira desperately wants her to shut up forever. She unconsciously shifts her weight against L’s bottom stroke, hungry for friction. "Oh god, Kira, I…" "Yeah?" Kira wedges a second finger in, and has to bite her lip to stifle a moan when L bucks against her. "I dreamed about this," L manages, low like a confession. "Dreamed about y

"Light, Sayu! Time for dinner!"

Light slams her laptop shut so quickly she thinks she sprains a finger.

"Coming!" She yells downstairs, wincing at how out of breath she sounds.

Jesus fucking Christ. What was that? Why did she keep reading?

And. And wait. She? No, he. Light’s a he, no matter what weird people on the internet think, the same way L isn’t actually a letter. Right. She must have just gotten confused.

…He must have just gotten confused. Obviously.

(Something in Light’s ribcage pangs.)

He wills the blood away from his cheeks. He shouldn’t be surprised, frankly. Light is perfectly aware there’s porn of everything on the internet, even if it is marked E for Everyone.

…Wait.

Light opens his laptop again, scrolls as fast as he can to the top, then hovers over the E.

Oh. Ohhhh. Well. How was he supposed to know, he sulks. There should be a huge banner proclaiming THERE’S SEX IN THIS FAN FICTION for ease of access to first-time users. The world is truly rotting.

"Light?"

"On my way!"

Light shuts his laptop again, more gently this time, and opens the door.

Do you ever feel like you died a long time ago?

It is far too easy to imagine L’s mouth moving around the words.

Light closes her eyes against it. What a ridiculous question.

She can hear Ryuk’s laughter the whole way down.

[ @deathnotetober day 9: crack ship ]

[crescent-blades]

✦•┈ᯓ Rules For making Requests.ᐟ

ʚɞ┆ First off, I would like to clarify that I won't be writing any explicit content; hence, I would appreciate it if such requests are not made. Other than that, you are free to request anything.

ʚɞ┆I also want to mention that I don’t have any triggers, and it’s pretty hard to offend me. So don’t hesitate to share anything—any content that might be sensitive will be labeled accordingly. [Please feel free to reach out if I may have missed anything!]

ʚɞ┆While it may seem obvious, I’ll say it again—please, DO NOT repost, copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work. If you’d like to reference it anywhere (especially regarding theories), please ask for my permission first.

ʚɞ┆Please note that it might take me a while to respond to inboxes. Don’t be discouraged if I haven’t replied to your requests yet; I may have seen them and could be working on a response. My busy schedule makes it challenging to reply quickly. Your patience is deeply appreciated!

ʚɞ┆Finally, this blog is all about keeping things positive and drama-free. Anyone that aims to stir up unnecessary negativity or controversy will be promptly blocked. I genuinely welcome any constructive feedback you may have about me. However, any form of hate will not be accepted.

✦•┈ᯓ Rules For Roleplaying.ᐟ

Firstly, I want to clarify that this isn't solely a roleplay blog. I often receive various requests because I enjoy writing beyond just roleplaying [drabbles, imagines, theories etc etc]. If you have any issues with some ooc content here and there, then you are free to unfollow. Moving on:

ʚɞ┆OCs, crossovers, ships, crack fics, etc.,are all welcome. Feel free to introduce any character you wish to see the samurai interact with, including the possibility of Kokushibō and/or Michikatsu being your chosen muse!

ʚɞ┆The portrayal of my muses will be as canon to the manga as possible. I will make every effort to keep my personal headcanons to a minimum, and I would really appreciate it if my writing partner could do the same.

ʚɞ┆Regarding NSFW; you won’t find any on my blog, nor am I comfortable writing anything explicit. Light shipping, flirting, romance, fluff, or similar interactions are totally fine, but let’s keep it on the softer side.

ʚɞ┆Regarding shipping and relationships; I believe it’s important for the characters to build chemistry and have meaningful interactions first, rather than jumping straight into shipping. I would prefer if we had already written together beforehand and perhaps discussed it in advance.

ʚɞ┆When it comes to violence, blood etc, I'm fine with anything. As I mentioned, I’m open to various themes, but only if the plot calls for it. I won’t tolerate any unnecessary graphic content or spiteful comments directed at my muses.

ʚɞ┆Regarding the length of my writing; I am flexible with pretty much everything, however, I generally enjoy multi-paragraph roleplays. I can adapt to different lengths if needed.

ʚɞ┆Regarding plotting I’m comfortable with either approach. Whether you want to plan out the next steps or prefer the thrill of surprises, I’m totally on board with whatever you choose.

ʚɞ┆You will get what you give. If I find that the you aren't putting in any effort with the replies, I will not be putting any effort either. I find it hard to stay motivated, especially knowing that the other person likely isn't even interested.

ʚɞ┆So, if you ever feel like your interest is waning or you need a break, then please feel free to tell me. The main goal of roleplaying is to have fun. If you decide you want to stop engaging altogether, you’re welcome to soft-block or hard-block.

ʚɞ┆Most importantly, have fun! <3

๋࣭⭑⚝Thank you!๋࣭⭑⚝

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Paint Me In Trust

GIF by captspaceface

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 4

Angst, Mentions of death.

Word count: 1.7k

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

Carol enters her ship after another successful mission wanting for nothing more than to relax and rest until she senses someone else’s presence in her space home.

She walks slowly, pointing one of her lit up fists in a general forward direction. When she reaches the living room, her glowing lights up your face.

She stops in her tracks a few feet away from you in shock, but quickly regains her composure, her mind still in mission mode. She stands tall like you're a threat, anger written all over her features.

This isn't the reaction you were expecting, quite the opposite, actually, the light smile that formed on your face at her sight is now replaced with a stoic expression.

"You think you’re funny?" Carol points her fist directly at your face as her jaw stiffens.

Her words take you by surprise making you go into a defensive state yourself, "Do I look amused?"

"You have five seconds to get out of my ship."

Your Carol would never dare hurt you, you think, so you take slow steps toward her with the confidence of an Avenger. She doesn’t move an inch watching you carefully as you get close enough to make her uncomfortable, her fist still pointing directly at you.

You lift your arm with two familiar fingers up and gently push hers out of the way, she doesn’t pose a lot of resistance. Your skin burns slightly, a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to, and her heart beat increases by a thousand percent.

"Or what?" you whisper. Her fist remains lit up, but much dimmer now as it rests on her side.

"Did the Kree put you up to this?" She squints her eyes.

It dawns upon you, she thinks you’re a Skrull in disguise, "Angel, it’s me," your voice is soft like satin.

"Don’t call me that," she quavers.

She really thinks you’re a Skrull in disguise.

You plead with your eyes, "Carol—"

She begins to breathe faster as she examines you closely, every little mark and scar is right where she remembers them, "Stop this!"

She attempts to lift her fist once again, but you stop her firmly by the wrist, the cool of your touch is like an oasis to her fiery skin. She seems to be at a crossroads with her own mind, she knows she's strong enough to fight you, to beat you yet she can't even bring herself to threaten you.

"Baby, you have to believe me, it's really me." You stare into her eyes like you're searching for her soul in them.

She tries to keep her tears at bay, to not show weakness, "Prove it."

How do you prove that you're you?

"You're Carol Danvers, born in 1965, in Boston, Massachusetts, you were in the air-force until an accident with the Light-Speed Engine gave you powers, and the Kree took you—"

"Anyone could know that information," she interrupts you.

You sigh and try a different approach, "You take your coffee black and only made by Goose." She remains silent, observing you, you crack your knuckles, a subtle sign of your nervousness, one that Carol knows very well.

"How did we meet?" she demands, still extremely skeptical of you.

"We were assigned a mission together, you were a real bitch about it," you tease.

"That was you." Your joke goes over her head and makes her tense up even more.

"Oh, right." You realize joking with Carol in this state wasn't your brightest idea.

"How did you die?" You are baffled by the question, it seems somewhere in her mind's timeline you died, but you have no recollection of that event. In fact, you have no recollection of a lot of the past few months.

You must respond to her question and she's not gonna like your answer, "I don't know, I’m not dead," you hesitate. Her hands finally stop glowing, and she extends one of them towards you making you look at her, puzzled, "What?"

"Give me your hand."

"No, why?" You are used to her powers burning you, but it's not exactly a pleasant sensation.

Carol rolls her eyes, "Come with me," she instructs as she grabs you by the arm, and pulls you into the spare room with a little more force than you would have liked, "You are to remain in here until I figure out what to do with you." Her tone is stern, but not as angry as it was before.

"You know I have keys, right?" you retort, she extends her hand again, "What!"

"If you really are who you say you are, you will give them to me." You look at her incredulously before handing the keys to her with a huff, Carol steps out of the room and locks the door behind her.

"Imprisoned in my own home," you grumble and slump on the bed.

A few hours go by and you begin to feel dizzy, "Carol!" you call out through the door.

It takes you a few tries, but eventually she yells back, "What is it?"

"I’m starving, is that your torture tactic?" She had forgotten that you're human, allegedly, and you need to eat a lot more often than she does. She isn't one to treat her guests poorly, even if they might be imposters, still, your question goes unanswered.

After about 20 minutes she knocks on the door, startling you, "Stand back."

"Are you serious?" you mumble as you comply. Carol comes into the room with a plate and a glass of water.

You grab the glass to take a sip, and before you know it, you're chugging the whole thing. You give her a shy look when you're done, "I'll get you some more," she says softly.

You eat your meal with satisfaction. Once you're finished, Carol takes the dishes and leaves. You hoped she might have eased a little bit until you hear the door lock again.

You have some trouble getting your body to rest, but you manage to get some sleep once you relax into the familiar atmosphere.

The next morning you pick the lock to the door, and just sit at the table waiting for Carol. She comes out of her room and stares at you briefly, "How did you get out?" she deadpans.

"I told you those locks are cheap," you remark, recalling a conversation you had when she was first installing them inside the ship years ago.

She seems to disregard your comment and turns to the coffee maker once Goose has done her job to pour two cups, she hands you one and then sits across from you with her own, "And I told you my ship isn't meant for prisoners."

You're confused until it clicks, "You did that on purpose." It's not a question.

She shrugs, "What took you so long?"

"I…wanted to be a good hostage."

"Why?" She maintains an uncomfortable amount of eye contact.

"So you'll believe I’m telling the truth." You take a sip of your coffee to help your dry throat and enjoy feeling it warm up your chest.

Carol's features turn to curiosity, "You're taking it black?"

"I'll take whatever you give me, after you tried to starve me yesterday," you snark.

"I’m sorry, I didn't realize—I forgot we have such different nutritional needs." She seems genuinely ashamed.

You scrunch up your nose at her choice of words, "It's okay."

"Cream then?" She quickly recovers her poise.

Your lips curl into a gentle smile, "Please." She gets up and grabs the cream from the fridge.

She sits back down beside you, and points at a small scar on your wrist, "How did you get that?"

"Training with Val," you reply with conviction.

She looks at you with teasing suspicion, "That's what you tell other people."

"Handcuff accident," you relent, avoiding eye contact, Carol seems pleased with your response. "Never again," you murmur under your breath.

Goose wonders into the room, and immediately goes to rub her body against your leg, purring contently, Carol loudly whispers to her, "She's not real." Goose only gives her an annoyed meow before walking away. You find the scene endearing even if Carol is talking ill about you to your face.

"If it turns out I am actually a Skrull, what are you planning on doing with me?" you decide to challenge her.

"I don't know yet."

"You know the Skrull are peaceful people, right?"

"It's not the Skrull that worry me, they are being governed by the Kree, who are not all that peaceful."

"If you know it wouldn't even be my fault, then why the hostility?"

She crosses her arms, "This is me being nice, if you were Kree I would have already dispatched you."

"Oh, you kill now? On purpose?"

"Only when necessary."

"Do it."

She gives you a perplexed look, "Do what?"

"Dispatch me," you dare confidently.

"No, that's not—" she fumbles, you hum in response, you knew she couldn't do it.

"Why won't you believe me?" she remains silent, "How did I die?" you hesitate after a moment.

"You were on a mission by yourself, I wanted to come with you, but Fury said it had to be done as quickly as possible, so you went. You borrowed a ship and it crashed somewhere in Hala. We never found the wreck, or your body." Her eyes fixate on her lap.

"That explains why I woke up in a dumpster surrounded by Kree soldiers."

"When?" Her gaze shoots up to meet you.

"About three months ago or so," you sigh.

She contemplates your words for a minute, "We had a funeral, Kamala thought it might help me process my grief. We had no body to bury, so I used one of your hoodies," she chokes.

"Not my favorite one!" you whine.

"Yes," she sniffles, a light smile forms on her lips.

You let out a groan, "God damn it, I swear that's the last time I die." Carol chuckles gently, "I suppose it would suck to have grieved and suffered for nothing, huh?" She nods, making you understand the reason for her distrust.

You grab her hand and kiss her knuckles, you love how her hands are always the perfect warm temperature, you place her palm on your chest, "I’m right here, angel."

Tears start flowing down her cheeks, and you can't help yourself from kissing them away. You lean in gently and leave a small peck on her lips, too quick for her to respond, but long enough for her to feel like home again.

After you pull away it's like a switch goes off in her head, her features change completely to become impossibly soft, "Baby?" she gasps.

Would love to hear all your thoughts!

@cordeliasdarling

[papaya-047]

OH NO PART 4 I BEG! ITS SO GOOD FOR NO REASON!!!!!!!!!

Genuinely do not understand demand for this, but to apologize to for my disappearance here's part 4...

Oh no... Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You had the upper hand, finally.

Sure he was also embarrassed whenever you got caught. Still, he would tease you relentlessly afterwards, never letting you forget until the next embarrassing thing rolled around. But this time, this time was different.

For one, you could actually face his family afterwards, you and ginny had a good laugh, and on top of that, you embarrassed not only your boyfriend but his bigheaded best friend. You liked harry, but at some point, you could only use "but I'm the chosen one" as an excuse so many times.

At the dinner table, you and the Weasleys celebrated Ron's eldest brother's visit. Bill recounted stories about his travels and cracked jokes. Yet Ron was still unable to make eye contact with his best friend.

Looking at his sister was no better. Every glance was followed by a look of disgust that he failed to hide. Oh, Ronald, sweet boy. You giggled to yourself; this was gonna be fun.

-

Your trip was short-lived, having to go back to Hogwarts. However, the embarrassment wasn't. It followed Ron. Usually, you could set it aside till the next time you would have to face his family for a weekend, but this time, the people he had to face came with you.

Harry acted differently around you as well. It was so unnecessarily funny that any form of eye contact with him caused you to giggle. How could it not? He had such shame all over his face. And for what? Catching him with a girl?

If anything, he should do what the other lads in Gryffindor do and flaunt it. But, unfortunately, it seems he hasn't reached that level of confidence. Under normal circumstances, Ron flaunts you constantly. But after catching his sister and his sister catching him, it seems flaunting isn't in the cards.

You understand why he teases you so much. It's so much fun. Whispering "I win" in his ear gets a reaction every time. Of course, you would be the same as he had it been anyone else, but Ginny adds on. And in the end, you end up with two boys that look more like tomatoes than wizards.

-

Ron seemed to have perked up somehow; any reference to the car left him unfazed. Guess that ship has sailed. You mourned the loss of your little game but appreciated the return of your overconfident boyfriend. As much as you hate to admit it, you missed Cocky Ron.

"You have a spare 3rd period, right?" he asked with a smile that could only mean mischief. He clearly inherited it from the twins.

"Ya, why?"

"How about I sneak out of muggle studies, and we spend some time together?"

"How about you actually go to your classes, Ron?"

"How can I do that when my gorgeous girl is sitting in her dorm alone?" he gave a little pout.

'My gorgeous girl' that convinced you. And the only risk was that he would get yelled at by Mcgonagall and she loved you so there really wasn't any harm. You agreed, and by third period Ron had whisked you away to an empty classroom.

The moment you stepped in, his hands were on you, lips on your neck, tugging at your shirt. The door was closed only when he pushed you against it. As much as you missed his lack of hesitation, you wondered why he kept smirking between kisses. Ron picked you up and rushed you to one of the desks. "Eager are we?" you laughed at your reference, but Ron seemed like he hadn't even heard you.

Loosening the tie off your uniform and unbuttoning the top of your shirt as he kissed down your neck. He was speeding up, frantically trying to do as much as possible.

You pulled away and placed a hand on his chest to tell him to stop. "Why are you rushing?"

He quickly shook his head, "I'm not."

"But you are; I swear you had your hands in my hair for like 5 seconds before you moved onto my tie."

"I'm not doing anything." and there it is. Before you could react, the doors burst open, and a group of kids in your year walked in with chess boards. Your hair was a mess, your tie loose, and your shirt unbuttoned. This was his plan.

"Hi, guys!" Ron perked up as he turned around to face the door.

"Sorry, we have this room reserved." One of the boys said.

"Of course you do," you sighed, "but you knew that, Ron, didn't you?"

He let out the most feigned shock reaction he could've given, voice dripping with mischief. "I knew nothing of the sort!" he exclaimed.

The boys giggled, and the two girls whispered to each other. This was a new low. An intentional low. "What are you lot whispering about?" you hopped off the desk, "at least I'm on the pull. You guys spend your spares playing board games." as you walked passed the girls that were eyeing you, you high fived a boy you recognized from your potions class. At least it's not Ron's parents, you thought.

Ron scurried after you apologized to the group as he tried not to laugh. Once he caught up, he ruffled your hair a little more. Finally, you fixed your shirt and tie.

He seemed disappointed by your reaction, "How are you not embarrassed?"

"Oh please, like Romilda Vane and Katie Bell can talk. Who spiked Harry's chocolate again? And who had to beg, and I mean BEG, Evan Rosier to take her out on a date? All they saw was a guy so into me that he just had to sneak into the nearest classroom to show me a good time. Isn't that right, Weasley?"

"Oh, Merlin. I look so whipped in that scenario."

You giggle. "Oh Ron, my gorgeous boy, I hate to break it to you, but you are completely whipped, mate." you stood on your tiptoe and reached up to kiss him on the cheek before walking away.

Before he could follow, someone shouted his name. "Ron Weasley! What are you doing out of class?" Counting on Professor Burbage to not take attendance had clearly backfired.

"Shit."

[pulim-v]

3, 9, 14, C, P, W for the cast of FGCC please?

3. First opinion of school as a kid

Tbh most FGCC characters had a lot of difficulties at school whether it was about learning or socializing, but I feel like at first Mist, Spark and Rowan thought it was fun to learn, Fern liked playing with his classmates, Via was mostly pretty shy and not THAT good at school so she didn't like it that much and Dew really disliked it when he was younger since they weren't able to focus well and found it kinda boring

9. First time living far away from home

I think Mist, Spark, Rowan and Dew still live close to their homes during the story, so if they actually move ti another city or smth it'd be after the story is done (and tbh I can't see Mist and Spark doing that), meanwhile both Fern and Via moved out before the story's events, Octavia one year before the story (when she got into the KIT) and Fern a few months before it (to look for a programming job)

14. First time facing their fears

Mist and Spark: on High School, they both had it ROUGH with trying to keep up with schoolwork.

Rowan: I feel like Rowan was really afraid of people abandoning him, which to be honest he only really addresses during the story lol.

Fern: Middle School, Fern probably had to have a bug moment where she stopped hiding his weird interests when he was younger.

Dew: I feel like Dew either wasn't fearful when they were younger or already faced most of their fears as a kid; either way, he faced his fear of disappointing their friends before the story during their first run through the KIT.

Octavia: in High School, I feel like her fears are a mix of Fern and Rowan and she started to address them at about the same time she started to transition in my mind

C. First physical contact.

For the ships that have appeared so far, Argentunimbus' first contact was either them bumping into each other and not realizing it or some form of physical violence. For Dewtavia, it was probably Via handing Dew something they dropped and the two accidentally touching (which was after Via fell for Dew but before Dew fell for Via).

For the ships that haven't shown up, for ☀️🌑 it was definitely a punch and for 🪴🎍 it might've been a handshake?

P. First time seeing the other all dressed-up

I have ot written that yet but there will be a school ball arc I repeat there will be a school ball arc

(The only one that differs is that Via and Dew saw each other dress up before that since they've known each other for a bit longer lol)

W. First time they realized their relationship was endgame... or isn't.

Fern didn't realize Fern x Spark wasn't happening until it was way too late. RIP Fern x Spark you never stood a chance

I think Argentunimbus cemented itself as endgame when Mist and Spark decided to take it easy for a semester and to not overwork themselves, while mutually agreeing that not putting immense amounts of effort into everything they did was the healthy thing to do

Dewtavia cemented itself as endgame during an upcoming arc, where Via finally started to talk about what she felt more and Dew started to put more effort into understanding her feelings and picking up on what she needed them to do

☀️🌑 only really became endgame when they had a big fight and 🌑 finally cracked down on ☀️'s savior complex lol

🪴🎍 might not be endgame I haven't built it up enough to be sure (and it isn't even a conventional ship so eh lol)

[shitzone]

Okay, for father's day(lol this has been in my drafts for so long) I rambled A LOT about the relationship between Erato and Nahida on the self ship discord server I'm on and now I actually want to also talk about it here. When I was talking about it there I was mostly talking about the kaverato au, but to be honest most of this also carries into the hairato au so do with that what you will.

The closest I could get to describing their relationship with the fewest words possible is adoptive daughter dynamic, though it goes much further than that. Even if Erato obviously can't be her biological father, I consider Nahida to still be inexperienced when it comes to the human world and needs much guidance so Erato is somewhat of a caretaker to her.

Now while I still don't have anything coherent written for Erato's role in the Sumeru archon quest, I do actually have a vague idea for how it would go down together with some key motives, one of the most important ones being the motive of freedom. You see, Erato was too someone who was practically trapped, grew up as an orphan before being taken into the Akademiya and basically indoctrinated before he could even read or write. Not gonna go into it too much because like many of things flowing in my brain it still hasn't been fully formed, but I think that you can see where it's going form here. While I still am not sure what exactly Erato is I know that he would have a pretty high position in the Akademiya and that it would be something to do with the akasha system. Blah blah blah, he feels trapped, he is basically held at the that place by the throat as the sages keep putting more pressure onto him(he was supposed to be the next to take the position of the Grand Sage) until he finally begins to see the cracks forming. That's when he speaks to Nahida, grudgeful at first until he realizes that the two of them are not that different at all. That's basically the event that puts the archon quest in motion, Nahida and Erato working together to take down the rule of the sages. That's where the narrative parallels are.

Post archon quest the dynamic starts getting a bit awkward. Nahida is still new to guiding the nation of Sumeru so Erato as someone with much experience in the Akademiya is there to help her handle things, basically a sort of an adviser. The awkward past is that Erato actually feels very subservient to her because she is essentially his goddess, but Nahida actually admires him a lot and thinks that he is actually the more knowledgeable one in the relationship. He is there with her at every important event being super serious all the time while Nahida tires to cheer him up and calm him down a little, basically trying to undo all of the sage's conditioning.

Now the funny part to me is that Kaveh isn't in Sumeru at all during the archon quest because he is on a business trip or something so when he comes back Erato is essentially just "we have a daughter now." Also while Erato has taught Nahida many things directly, she feels like she learns the most watching him interact with Kaveh(/Alhaitham depending on the au)(they're in denial). She sometimes plays a game of cupid and puts them in high tension scenarios hehe.

Anyways have I mentioned that Kaveh braids her hair...

[yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation]

Third prompt from @little-box-of-autism I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 😈

Prompt at the bottom of the story. I didn't want to ruin the surprise. Just be warned my angst demons were on one tonight.

Taking a deep breath Lo’ak dove down to the Spirit Tree. It had been two weeks since the battle at Three Brothers Rock. Two weeks since his brother had returned to Eywa.

Lo’ak hadn’t felt ready to visit Neteyam before now. Not ready to say goodbye to one of the few people that saw him for who he was.

Hand shaking, Lo'ak reached for his kuru behind his back. Sliding his hand down to grasp the end with a lite, gentle touch. Closing his eyes Lo'ak connected with the Spirit Tree.

He was ready.

“Lo'ak? What are you doing here?” Lo'ak smiled, opening his eyes to see Neteyam standing in front of him. His arms were crossed over his chest and there was a look in his eye that the younger Na'vi boy, couldn’t quite place.

Smile getting wider Lo'ak stepped forward. “Neteyam, brother, I came to see you. I miss you so much.”

“Brother?” Neteyam's voice was cold and angry, eyes flaring with that hard-to-place emotion. “What gives you the right to call me brother?”

Brows furrowed in confusion Lo'ak opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to form a response to his brother's harsh words. Why would he say that? What was going on?

“Neteyam what are you talking about? You’re my brother. We're family, what do you mean what gives me the right?”

“We haven’t been brothers in a long time, you made sure of that.” Neteyam sneered. The younger boy finally recognized the look in his brother’s eyes. It was disgust, contempt, hatred. Neteyam had never looked at anyone like that, as far as Lo'ak could recall. But here he was directing all of it at him, his younger brother.

“What?” He asked in a small, pain filled voice.

“I got so tired of cleaning up your messes. So tired of taking the blame for your stupid shit. But of course, you never learned to follow even the simplest orders. You never grew up and look where it got me.” Neteyam gestured to himself and to Lo'ak's horror a small hole appeared on his big brother’s chest, blood flowing from the gunshot wound that took his life. “I’m dead because of you.”

Tears flowed down Lo’ak’s face as harsh sobs shook his whole frame. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen. I’m sorry.”

Neteyam threw his head back in a mocking laugh. “You're sorry? I’m dead and you're sorry? What a joke. You’re a pathetic excuse for a son. It should have been YOU that died, and not me.” The older boy stepped forward shoving Lo'ak hard in the chest. Making him stumble, trip and fall to the ground. “I should have made it off that ship not you, I had my whole life ahead of me and look at you. The screw up.”

“Please Neteyam, I’m sorry! Please!”

“SORRY ISN'T GOING TO BRING ME BACK!” Neteyam screamed. Lunging forward his hands wrapped around Lo'ak's throat, cutting off his air supply. Blood dripped from Neteyam's wound, falling onto Lo'ak's chest, arms, hands, and face as the younger boy scrabbled at his brother’s hands. Desperately trying to push Neteyam off.

“I'm sorry, Neteyam. Please I’m so sorry.” He mouthed over and over again.

Jake jolted awake, not sure what pulled him from his sleep. Lying there he listened but nothing stood out. All he could hear were the regular nighttime sounds of the village. The gentle lap of waves, the rustle of the breeze through the distant forest, the quiet sounds of animals. Nothing that should have woken him up.

After listening for a couple of minutes Jake felt his eyes start to grow heavy and fall closed when he heard it, a whimper. It was coming from the other side of the Mauri where his kids slept.

“Please” The voice, Lo'ak's voice begged.

Jake was on his feet and moving over to his son within a heartbeat. Through the minimal amount of light coming in through the crack of the door Jake could see his son, covered in a sheen of sweat. He wasn’t tossing and turning but throwing his head from side to side as his limbs twitched sporadically.

“Lo'ak?” he called his son in a quiet voice, not wanting to wake his other kids. “Lo'ak, wake up son.”

“I'm sorry, Neteyam.” The boy whimpered and Jake's heart broke. He had worried that Lo’ak would blame himself for what happened to Neteyam. He had made sure to tell him it wasn’t his fault and knew Neytiri had told the boy the same thing. It wasn’t enough, Jake knew that now.

Reaching out Jake placed his hand on his son's shoulder, intending to shake him from his dream. He hadn’t been prepared for Lo'ak to start thrashing violently. Nor was he expecting his son to start screaming.

“Please, I’m so sorry.” The boy wailed.

Gripping his son by his shoulders Jake shook him yelling at him to wake up. Ignoring his mate and other children as they gathered around in fright.

“LO'AK!” Jake yelled, slapping the kid. It was hard enough to sting and hopefully wake the boy from his nightmare.

Lo'ak's eyes flew open and he jolted up into a sitting position, much to Jake's relief. Pulling him closer, Jake rocked Lo'ak back and forth, rubbing his arms and back in a soothing manner. Shushing him as he apologized over and over again.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lo'ak, I promise it wasn’t your fault.” Jake repeated multiple times to the sobbing boy in his arms.

“What happened to Neteyam wasn’t your fault.”

 

Prompt: "You're my brother." "We haven't been brothers in a long time, you made sure of that."

[trainsinanime]

The love triangle in Wednesday (2022 Netflix TV show) is yet another example of the age-old Hollywood tradition of separating the romantic relationships from the important relationships. And it's a tradition that is just baffling to me.

In Wednesday, Tyler and Xavier are her officially designated love interests that she has to choose between. They don't really matter, though; they're only used to drive the plot along and provide a kiss scene. Jenny Ortega's acting does its best to ensure that there's no actual tension here, no matter how much the script tries to pretend otherwise (and yes, that was a conscious choice on her part, and I love her for it).

On the other hand, the relationships with Enid and, to a lesser but still important extent, Eugene, really matter. All of Wednesday's development as a person is about how she deals with these two, especially Enid.

Her friendship with Eugene makes all the monster attacks deeply personal and becomes the main driving force behind Wednesday trying to solve the show's plot in the second half of the season.

And the relationship between Wednesday and Enid is just the whole emotional core of the show. The lowest moment of the show is when Wednesday and Enid break up, so to speak, and Enid moves out. Later, we get the emotional reunion scene. Finally, the closest thing to a celebration at the end is the moment when Wednesday and Enid have their hug.

And then there are all the small moments where Wednesday learns to be more sociable and to like it, thanks to her interactions with Enid. She learns to be considerate of Enid's feelings and wishes (e.g. removing the murder board). She promises to murder people on Enid's behalf.

Enid and Wednesday is so much the big emotional core of the show that it has even become the show's key visual, in the form of the circular window, half colourful, half colourless, but clearly forming one whole together. This is really not subtle.

Tyler and Xavier are who Wednesday is supposed to kiss; Enid is who matters.

Of course, this isn't a new pattern. You'll find this over all sorts of Hollywood movies (e.g. Captain America 2), TV shows, book series, whatever. Wednesday is not an exception, and in fact Wednesday isn't that original a series overall, except for putting Wednesday Addams herself into this store-brand US Hogwarts. They just did it really well and cast very good actors, in particular Jenny Ortega and Gwendolyn Christie (I love her so much in this, but that's not really relevant to the point).

Personally, I still believe that this pattern is what spawned 90% of gay ships on Ao3. It's fairly evident when one relationship is official and another is meaningful, and ever since the days of Kirk and Spock, fanfic writers have honed in on the meaningful. Wednesday is no exception. As it stands, 959 of the 1,497 works on Ao3 for Wednesday (TV 2022) are Wednesday/Enid, and given the pace at which the fandom is growing, I wouldn't be surprised if they have cracked the 1k by this evening. And they're really good fics that I can recommend.

My big question is: Why do Hollywood writers keep doing this? It's not like it's required, there are plenty of shows where the main romantic relationship is also the most important one, e.g. the whole love situation in Miraculous Ladybug, the first season of Galavant, a lot of "they fight crime" shows like Bones and Castle and so on.

If the writers of Wednesday want to keep Wednesday and Enid platonic, and also have Wednesday have meaningful romantic relationships with boys who I can only tell apart by their hair length, well, I suppose they can do that if they really have to, for some reason. But then why not write these romantic relationships as meaningful as well? As it is, they are all about the boys being like, "I'm into you", and Wednesday being like, "that is very useful. Do my bidding, boy". That's genuinely fun, but it doesn't get me invested.

Anyway, Wednesday is a really well executed show, and I either don't ship Wednesday at all, or with Enid. Because the relationship with Enid is the one that ultimately matters (whether you make it romantic or not), and that's just canon.

[gilded-sunrays]

✦•┈ᯓ. Rules for making requests.ᐟ

ʚɞ┆First off, I would like to clarify that I won't be writing any explicit content; hence, I would appreciate it if such requests are not made. Other than that, you are free to request anything.

ʚɞ┆I also want to mention that I don’t have any triggers, and it’s pretty hard to offend me. So don’t hesitate to share anything—any content that might be sensitive will be labeled accordingly. [Please feel free to reach out if I may have missed anything!]

ʚɞ┆While it may seem obvious, I’ll say it again—please, DO NOT repost, copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work. If you’d like to reference it anywhere (especially regarding theories), please ask for my permission first. 

ʚɞ┆Please note that it might take me a while to respond to inboxes. Don’t be discouraged if I haven’t replied to your requests yet; I may have seen them and could be working on a response. My busy schedule makes it challenging to reply quickly. Your patience is deeply appreciated!

ʚɞ┆Finally, this blog is all about keeping things positive and drama-free. Anyone that aims to stir up unnecessary negativity or controversy will be promptly blocked. I genuinely welcome any constructive feedback you may have about me. However, any form of hate will not be accepted.

✦•┈ᯓ. Rules for Roleplaying.ᐟ

Firstly, I want to clarify that this isn't solely a roleplay blog. I often receive various requests because I enjoy writing beyond just roleplaying [drabbles, imagines, theories etc etc]. If you have any issues with some ooc content here and there, then you are free to unfollow. Moving on:

ʚɞ┆OCs, crossovers, ships, crack fics, etc., are all welcome. Feel free to introduce any character you wish to see Yoriichi interact with, including the possibility of Yoriichi being your chosen muse!

ʚɞ┆The portrayal of my muses will be as canon to the manga as possible. I will make every effort to keep my personal headcanons to a minimum, and I would really appreciate it if my writing partner could do the same.

ʚɞ┆Regarding NSFW content; you won’t find any on my blog, nor am I comfortable writing anything explicit. Light shipping, flirting, romance, fluff, or similar interactions are totally fine, but let’s keep it on the softer side.

ʚɞ┆ Regarding shipping and relationships; I believe it’s important for the characters to build chemistry and have meaningful interactions first, rather than jumping straight into shipping. I would prefer if we had already written together beforehand and perhaps discussed it in advance. Besides, being fiercely loyal towards Uta, Yoriichi is very unlikely to engage in a relationship that easily. 

ʚɞ┆When it comes to violence, blood etc, I'm fine with anything. As I mentioned, I’m open to various themes, but only if the plot calls for it. I won’t tolerate any unnecessary graphic content or spiteful comments directed at my muses.

ʚɞ┆Regarding the length of my writing; I am flexible with pretty much everything, however, I generally enjoy multi-paragraph roleplays. I can adapt to different lengths if needed.

ʚɞ┆Regarding plotting; I’m comfortable with either approach. Whether you want to plan out the next steps or prefer the thrill of surprises, I’m totally on board with whatever you choose.

ʚɞ┆You will get what you give. If I find that you aren't putting in any effort with the replies, I will not be putting any effort either. I find it hard to stay motivated, especially knowing that the other person likely isn't even interested.

ʚɞ┆So, if you ever feel like your interest is waning or you need a break, then please feel free to tell me. The main goal of roleplaying is to have fun. If you decide you want to stop engaging altogether, you’re welcome to soft-block or hard-block.

ʚɞ┆Most importantly, have fun! <3

๋࣭⭑⚝Thank you!๋࣭~⚝๋࣭⭑

[dondake]

[tasutsumu] green thumb

rating: k summary: Tasuku gets turned into a literal tree. 

[=]

“Oh, so you’re a talking tree,” Tsumugi said. 

[railroad-migraine]

You live!! Yay!!

"Promise?"

"Promise."

With changeling! Reader x ashton bc with fae, promises are very serious. Only you write him the way I love to read him~🌷

Anonymous asked: Can you please write a 'I'm yours. No returns.' For the ship prompt with ashton? I feel like this suits them a lot

Also inspired by this ask from @trippygalaxy

Notes: 1.1k words. Established but new relationship. Fluff. Reader is a non-specific fae race. A combination of prompts helped me out of my writer's block and lack of motivation. Enjoy my darlings x

Song Rec: Take On Me - 2017 acoustic by a-ha

~ Poet

We're Allowed To Be Foolish

-> Ashton Greymoore x GN!Reader

"Right," Ashton says when he claps his hands together, the soft sound melding with with the crackle of the fire behind them. "The children are finally asleep, so that means us adults can finally relax."

Imogen has finally settled, no evidence of any nightmares with her back supported by a tree stump, Laudna's head leaning on the sorcerer's shoulder. A spare cloak is tucked under her chin and covers both their laps and legs. Meanwhile, Orym's form is engulfed entirely by Fearne, having no need for a blanket when he has a faun and her fur to keep warm. Soft snores come from that cuddle pile softly, one of her hands on Orym's back, the other on Mister's. Old man Chetney, ever so stealthy, lies a few feet from Fearne, back to the fire and a small shiv gripped in his fist. His ears twitch when the odd twig snaps and causes a loud spark. The flames seem to lick higher and brighter closest to where FCG is stationed for the night. Their metal glows and reflects like a warped mirror found in shadow.

It's calm - a rare thing when on the road and picking up errands and quests here and there. A travelling band of adventures, ready and eager to taste what's on offer.

You crack a smile from where you sit in the grass, knees pulled up to your chest and a threadbare scarf draped over your shoulders. "We're just on watch, Ash. It's no different from any other night."

"That's where you are wrong, my fair-looking fae," they smirk as they crumble to the ground at your side and pass you your waterskin. You take a grateful sip, but nearly choke when the scarf is suddenly and harshly tugged off from your shoulders. The thin fabric hangs loose when Ashton slings it around himself. The smug bastard. You scowl and pull it back enough so that there's enough material to share, ignoring his cheeky face in the corner of your eye. It isn't even a cold night, but Ashton's body heat is bleeding through the scarf so effortlessly that without it you might just shiver. "Tonight just so happens to mark two months since our first shared watch together."

You are about to protest, but words fail you as soon as your memory does. Lips parted and eyebrow quirked, you simply offer: "I... that doesn't seem right. Surely I would've remembered such a thing."

"Ouch. That hurts. Stings even. And I thought you would be the sentimental one." They lightly punch your shoulder, a disgustingly sweet platonic gesture, deepening your frown because you want nothing more than a kiss instead. But that can be asked for later. "It's no biggie. Really. It's not like anything of significance occurred that night." He pauses. "Certainly not anything to do with us, up to our knees in ice cold water, fishing for a special rock after someone so elegantly threw in the river-"

"Chet trying to use the Sending Stone as a skipping stone! How could I forget?" you chuckle, face warm at the memory.

It had been an accident - you'll agree with Chetney that the magical item does look deceptively mundane. You had been on watch with the gnome, camped near a stream that seemed to grow more powerful as the night went on. Bored out if his mind, he turned to tossing stones into the water until watch was over. The ripples made in the beginning were nothing special, until the water seemed to glow and sparkle, as if having swallowed something magic. Long story short, Chetney was far too short to go wading in the deeper waters with you to look for the Sending Stone.

Luckily for you, Ashton had been only resting their eyes and was more than willing to help you while Chetney fretted from the shore.

If the barbarian hadn't been there to ground you, the waters might have swept you away into the darkness when you swiped the stone from the rushing current.

Your heart aches a little. The only tie to Dorian the party had left was nearly lost that night. You can only hope that the bard has since found his way safely with his daft brother since he left. Ashton brings you back to the present, nodding enthusiastically and laughing at the memory. You hush them, giggling under your breath so not to disturb fast asleep Bell's Hells scattered around the camp. "You do remember, I knew it!"

Things work differently in the Feywild. So much simpler from your perspective, but awe-inspiring to the friends you've made on your travels - Fearne being a comforting and familiar exception. Time is a weird soup, a mantra, a phrase she brings up whenever you think of what might have been. If you had stepped outside of that portal ten seconds sooner, you might have crossed paths with Ashton even earlier.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, reaching out to touch their face. He stills upon contact, leaning into your hand while your thumb traces a line of gold filigree running from his temple to his cheekbone.

A blurred reminder of a time before you came to Emon. A time before you could save their ass when they got in trouble.

How can someone be so strong, resilient, and yet so fragile and tender? You manage to find your voice, distant and faraway, mumbling more so to yourself rather than to Ashton. "You're not what I thought you'd be like."

He bares his teeth in a crooked grin. There's a hint of approval in his eyes when they flick between your own, trailing briefly down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. "Mean and scary?" His voice lowers to a purr - for the sake of the party or your own, you don't know. He makes a sharp movement, a motion as if going to bite your thumb on his cheek. Instead he kisses the corner of your mouth.

That's an understatement.

"Yeah."

"Yeah well..." Ashton muses, leaning back on their hands and glancing up at the clear sky overhead. "I thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too. I mean, a fae? Clearly not from this part of the world, a complete enigma with wicked magic..."

"Me?" you grin, tilting your head in mild disbelief. The idea seemed bizarre at first. Ashton - the barbarian whose head has slag glass holding back a galaxy, who is decked out in leather and wields a hammer engraved with "FUCK OFF" - was intimidated by you. "You thought I was the scary one?"

It's laughable, enough that you begin to ignore your stiff back and sore limbs from travel. Ashton huffs out an amused breath of air. He looks at you, a playful glare darkening his face. "Terrifying." He must not like the thoughtful expression on your face, so he leans forward a little, craning his neck to look at you properly. "Hey."

"Hey."

"... I'm yours. No returns. No take backs."

Emotion wells up in your throat. You try to swallow it down, thick with hesitation. "Promise?"

"Promise. Cross my heart." He drags a finger over his chest, a simple gesture of innocent trust in you that ignites you to your very core. "Hope to die."

"Hm..." you croon, pinching their chin and nudging their face closer. "That's quite a bold oath you just made there, Ash. You're lucky I'm not a fae that would take advantage of your foolishness."

You feel him smile against your lips. "As the designated adults on watch tonight, I think we're allowed to be a bit foolish."

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Okay. So.

Zara.

Going off the idea that she survived the pteranadon attack and escaped the colossasaurus tank, only to be trapped on the island until Jurassic World 2, let's see what role she might have played in Dominion, shall we?

Zara has massive PTSD, right? Right. She's pissed at Claire, she's pissed at the dinos, she's pissed at everyone and everything. Except for a woman she happens to fall in with. A pilot just coming out of the Air Force named Kayla Watts.

They meet a seedy bar, and Kayla drunkenly brags that she's just started a new gig flying cargo for dino collectors. Zara just snorts. More likely she's shipping iguanas with prosthetics on it.

Oh, well, if Zara knows so much, why doesn't she come verify the goods for her? Kayla doesn't want to find herself in a bad spot delivering fake cargo to dangerous people.

And you know what? Zara's just like-- fuck it. Why not.

So she goes, and it is indeed a fake batch of compies, and in the end points Kayla towards the real stuff (she watched the black ops teams stealing dinos, and if she traced their connections across the globe after she got back to the mainland, who cares? Not her) and they strike up an arrangement.

Zara negotiates prices and verifies cargo-- Kayla flies the plane, while Zara rides jump seat. They fall into bed together multiple times, and slowly a bond begins to form. Eventually, as the years tick by, they become something like a couple.

To the point that when Kayla drives back to the airstrip with Claire fucking Dearing and a plan to fly to Biosyn, Zara is just like.

Fuck that shit.

No.

She just escaped a valley full of dinosaurs, why the hell would she want to go back to one? Fuck you, Kayla, no fucking way! All the while Zara is getting the plane into gear because Claire said something about Indoraptors and she does NOT fuck with those things.

But when Kayla snaps back with "they took a kid!", Zara caves. As ruined as she is, she still has a heart.

When the plane starts to crash, Kayla reveals there are TWO ejection seats, and Claire and Zara are sitting in them. She ejects Zara even as Zara is warning her not to do it-- "goddammit Kayla, don't you dare--!" And she and Claire have to go romping through the jungle. Amongst the dinosaurs. Together.

Zara retreats into survival mode, quickly picking her way across the valley towards the population center. Claire, on the other hand, is desperate to make amends. When she doesn't relent, Zara finally rounds on her, hissing "why on earth should I forgive you, claire? You treated me like a errand dog, and gave me your damn family to keep track of. And then you just... left me there. Did you even look for me?"

She glares at Claire, who doesn't respond.

"I didn't think so," Zara drawls. "Now shut up and follow me."

By the time they all group up together, Zara barely spares Owen a glance-- she's never liked him, and never pretended to (and she sure as hell isn't going to start now)-- but falls in with Kayla and the original trio.

She proceeds to serve as dino survival expert throughout the rest of the film. Zara even goes as far as saving Claire from being eaten by the allosaur. The kid Maisie really likes her, and sticks close to Zara, recognizing the safest place to be.

At the end of the movie, on the tarmac, Zara sits off by herself with an emergency blanket and a cup of bad coffee. Kayla is the only one to risk approaching her.

"You okay?" Kayla asks, sitting down beside her.

Zara sighs. "No," she says quietly. "I'm... tired." Her voice cracks. "I'm just so fucking tired."

Of danger.

Of dinosaurs.

Of being absolutely fucking miserable.

Kayla gazes at her for a long moment. "Do you.... want to come home with me?"

Zara stares at her. "What?"

"Yeah, my mom has a ranch in Montana. Keeps telling me I should come visit. You could... come with me, if you want. Good a place as any to get some R&R, right?"

When Zara continues to stare, Kayla grins. "Look, I like you, okay? In that wasn't obvious as hell. That means I care about you. And I care about what you need. All right?"

Finally, Zara's features soften, and she leans gently against Kayla's shoulder.

"So.... is that a yes?"

Zara grins. "Yes."

She chuckles.

"Idiot."

[hypahfixations]

So something I haven't heard other people talk about for Our Flag Means Death, and it's entirely possible I totally just missed it in the vast expanse that is fandom on tumblr, but I find it interesting who of the Revenge Ed specifically chooses in the end.

((So here's your spoiler warning if you haven't watched the show yet))

Anywhoozle it's been lingering in the back of my brain why, when Ed transforms himself into The Kraken and is literally throwing away everything tied to Stede including the crew, he had specific interactions with Lucius, Jim and Frenchie.

Lucius is the easiest one, right? Sure, he was snarky and defiant, not the best prospect for an underling, but he was also a fair bit cowardly when facing infliction of pain or death.

The problem was that Lucius knew too much. He could read and write and sketch - gotta keep in mind that literacy and documentation is a huge pull of power in this vaguely historical adjacent world to be sure. But more than anything Lucius was Stede's confidant, Ed's confidant; he can usually see right through anyone he has laid eyes on. Not only that but he is beloved by both crews (aside from Izzy) for both being charming and his skills.

And if the Kraken is Blackbeard's fiercest form, that simply would not do. No, having someone who would boldly remind him, and everyone else, of his soft heart would be bad for his renewed image. So overboard the boy must go.

Next we see Jim being summoned to the stripped and darkened captains quarters. Jim is world's away the strongest combatant of the Revenge, and frankly the most competent person on the ship. They have a history of and impulse for violence, disguise, and theft. All trappings of an extraordinary pirate that, as Blackbeard mentions, would be worth watching and recruiting.

But I don't think he's fully aware of the layers that Jim has. He knows that Olu adores Jim, of course, why else would be be sure to separate the pair before seeking them out, but I doubt he knows it runs both ways. And even if he did know they finally got together, misery breeds misery; Why should Ed be the only one to have found love and then have it ripped away from him with no reasons to be found?

So the Kraken decides to take the next most powerful player off the board. If Lucius is the suite of Hearts and Jim the Ace, that makes Frenchie the Wild Card.

Frenchie can't read or write or fight. He's superstitious and gullible but specifically not stupid. He can blend into the background or hold the spotlight to execute the roles required of him. He's likeable and reliable in a way that is similar to Oluwande but where they diverge is self preservation and I feel like that makes a huge difference.

But Blackbeard isn't thinking about all that. All he asks is if Frenchie can sew.

Like I said, Frenchie isn't stupid. The guy knows how to be subservient in a way that is as beneficial as possible for him. But he's loyal to himself and part of that is being loyal to who he chooses to care about. He got out from under the thumb of the rich elite yet chose to join and remain in Stede's crew. To serve under a fancypants rich boy that turned out to be kinder than Frenchie thought possible for those types.

His loyalties lie with the rag tag group of the Revenge and that includes when Blackbeard was Ed.

I think that's going to be the one to crack through the Kraken's exterior in Season 2. Frenchie will play the role that Blackbeard wants him to play, treating him almost like a stand-in Lucius at times. Meanwhile, he's working with Jim on the sly, reforging an alliance with Fang and Ivan for when Blackbeard and the rest of them were actually happy, and perhaps even sowing the seeds of those memories in Ed in subtle ways.

[pepsi-maxwell]

more wrestle derby au, featuring matt jackson inviting wardlow to go park skating (euphemistically ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) with him because like i said, indulgent aus are for crack ships, i rest my case.

rating: g

wordcount: ~1000

---

"Oh god my body's broken-"

"-think my bruises have bruises-"

"-how long until the next jam? Please say we're up against the Best Friends, some easy team, for the love of-"

Matt's mostly tuned out everyone's complaints as they skate off the track. He's pretty sore himself; fell right on top of Kyle's wheels at one point so he's limping a little, gonna have one hell of a purple shin, but he managed to do some good offense against Cash, created a path for Adam to get through, so he's happy with that.

And sure, they still lost abysmally, but now that they've gone up against the Pinnacle and the House of Black, they've pretty much covered all of the really heavy hitters, which means the next few rounds should be less intense.

"Uh. Hey. You got a minute?"

He pivots smoothly on his back wheels, all those freestyle skate sessions coming in handy. Comes face to face with the big guy himself. Wardog. Alone. The rest of his team are over by their bench on the other side of the hall, including their pissy looking captain, finally out of the sin-bin. Which makes this capital-i Interesting, and very much worthy of his attention.

"Just wanted to say, good game, and... hope I didn't bump you too hard out there?" he says, holding out his palm tentatively.

He wants to hate him for how impeccable he looks, like he's barely broke a sweat, whereas Matt feels (and probably smells) like he's been dumped in the Everglades, but. Honestly, he looks like a big puppy dog, just... so earnest, and he can't be mean to a face like that.

So he bumps the plastic of their wristguards together in a facsimile of a high five. "Nothing bruised but my pride," he says cheerfully, if only because he can see Kyle glaring at him, probably for fraternising with the 'enemy', like that even matters outside a jam. "There was no stopping you out there! Even if I'd got lower to block, you could have just stepped right over me."

And, hmm.

Isn't that an interesting thought.

Wardog rubs his helmet, looking somewhat embarrassed. "I mean, you got some good offense in, and your form was really good-"

"-oh yeah, I do so many squats off-skates, you wouldn't believe," he agrees, preening slightly because it's true! His form is perfect, and it's good that someone notices! "But still, you're, like, unstoppable as a jammer! You know, you should really do it more often."

He really shouldn't be putting ideas in the guy's head; trying to block him in a single jam had been bad enough. At least the Pinnacle's usual jammer is a similar size to the rest of Matt's team and easier to hold in place. Even if he is a filthy, filthy cheater who plays dirtier than the Elite at their absolute worst.

But still. There's something about this guy that has him wanting to return the compliment. He just seems so... nice. And big. And a little hot, maybe? Hard to tell with the mouth guard and the helmet, but he's gotten good at judging attractiveness under people's gear, so.

"Honestly?" he says, like he's imparting some deep, well-hidden secret. "I hate jamming. Too much endurance. I'm much better at doing offense, or stopping someone else." Matt wonders how much of that's actually truth, and how much is Mr Penalty Box not wanting to share the limelight.

And he could make a dirty remark about endurance, but Wardog's just lapped the Elite about six times with ease, so it'd be more an insult to himself. "Huh. Can't relate!" Is what he says instead, because he genuinely can't; doesn't understand how someone wouldn't enjoy sailing past the opposing team like the biggest, most smug asshole on on the planet. So much fun. If Matt was Wardog's size, with that much agility, he'd jam full time. Maybe even the national team, dude's wasted at a regional Sur5al tournament.

They're interrupted by the Chairman calling out Wardog's name, his real one, probably to talk strategy for whoever they're up against next, and Matt decides to make his most impulsive decision of the day (so far).

"Hey, do you park skate?" he asks, already having an idea of the answer because he's pretty sure he's seen this guy before at his local bowl. One of the benefits of regional tournaments, at least, everyone's pretty local. Follows up Wardog's nod of confirmation with, "Cool! I'm on the social media page for the tournament; look for Matt Jackson, you'll know it's me. Hit me up and we should totally go skate sometime!"

"Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I'll. Definitely do that. Listen, I should head back to my team, but I'll... send you a message?" he says, with the tiniest pink tinge to his cheeks that says he actually will, and honestly, he's way cuter than he has any right to be, which means there's a decent chance that Matt's going to message him first.

To skate.

Definitely.

Just skating. Nothing else.

He watches him cross the empty track, eyes on one very specific spot as Nick ploughs to a stop beside him.

"Matt, I swear to god, you better not be hitting on the guy whose team just tore us a new one-"

He shouldn't go for it. It's the most obvious thing he could say but it's also going to annoy the hell out of Nick, so he can't not. Smirks and says, "Oh, he can tear me a new one any time."

"One of these days, I am going to kill you so hard-"

Matt rolls his eyes and pushes off with a toe stop. "Yeah, yeah, just save it for when Kenny's back. You still need me for the tournament."

Grabs the helmet cover with the star for their next match up, making the unanimous decision to play jammer because he's got someone to show off to now, and by god he is going to shine.

---

fun fact helmet covers used to be called panties because of course they were 🙃