#this isnt a joke this is a real thing that's been tossed around in the aa fandom

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

why does barok stand like that

it has been theorized that he did ballet as a kid so. thats a possibility

[watatsumiis]

hey! ty for liking my tsaritsa so much!!! i'd love to hear more of your thoughts on her, if there are any!

omg of course, she's absolutely stunning, your art style does her so much justice (and honestly is just an awesome gorgeous style in general!!) and tbh your design is how I picture her in my head now !!

I have a lot of thoughts and ideas about the Tsaritsa, a lot of them are just kind of ~vibe~ based and hard to convey, but i'll toss them beneath the cut!

I really like the theory that her 'ideal' is love, like it's such a fun and interesting concept

like, to begin with i imagine she was a very kind deity, not in a familiar way, but in a general sort of .. benevolent to her subjects and open to those that sought an audience with her. Not exactly 'warm', but not entirely shutting them out either

though i imagine that sort of hollowed out as time wore on and she realised that even being an actual deity didn't give her the power she needed to be able to make any real tangible changes to things or help those who were doomed from the start (which is probably a big part of why shes so anti-celestia or whatever)

despite her despair and attitude towards romantic love sort of withering, she places a heavy emphasis on familial love (including found family) and on forming bonds that will stand the test of toil and time

she comes off very aloof, especially to those beneath her, and will actively try to avoid being around others if she can help it. She dislikes forming close attachments

this isnt to mean that she doesn't care. she just cares so much that the only way she can deal with it is by distancing herself, or else she's just setting herself up for repeated heartbreak when her loved ones inevitably die.

the exception to this ? pierro.

pierro is cursed with undeath, and even before that he was someone with a fiercely loyal (and stubborn) streak.

they both told themselves theyd never allow themselves to become attached to someone else after all the losses theyd been through, but in making this pact alongside one another they basically sealed their own fate

there are no simple words for the kind of intertwined, codependent, epic-spanning love-hate they have for one another.

their bond was one forged in the fires of loss and hardened by the ice of grief. despite what they both may say, they're in it for the long haul. Tsaritsa has slowly become accustomed to this idea. Pierro has not and will still vehemently deny it.

i guess to really shave it down id call it a queerplatonic relationship. something unholy and gorgeous. two flowers holding onto a cliffside by the tips of their roots and growing around one another.

the second 'exception' is columbina. i imagine she's like a weird nibling to the tsaritsa. she was picked to be amongst the harbingers because of her ability to light up any room she's in (i imagine tsaritsa secretly has a nickname for her that's somewhere along the lines of 'songbird' because of her voice ngl)

outside of this, the tsaritsa is cool and aloof and works very hard to maintain her composure, especially when under scrutiny. she is brilliant at keeping this facade in place.

until she's no longer in the public gaze, that is.

i like to think she's a tiny bit of a goofball, she has a soft spot for 'dad jokes' that make pierro roll his eyes and rub his temples, and she quite enjoys wine (im sorry but if she were a facebook mom her page would be minion memes and posts talking about how its wine o-clock)

she also rather enjoys slapstick humour - there are a few dottore clones running around who have perfected it enough so that she has to cover her mouth with a hand to stop her subjects from seeing the way her lips twitch upwards as she holds back her laughter

she's also really, really petty. not that she'd ever do anything about it, but more than once pierro has found himself in her chambers late at night, watching as she paces back and forth, her sixth glass of wine in hand, and complains about how that 'brick-brained geo archon just won't sign the damn contract! isn't that his entire shtick?!'

she also has a soft spot for kids, or people who have a youthful energy about them. it reminds her that maybe not all is bad in the world, and that she's going to change it for the better for their sake.

I like to think she's extremely good at various sports - i love the idea featured on the asker's blog about her having an elk instead of a horse. that's so cool and lives in my brain rent free and forever tbh. her and pierro on their steeds racing through a snowy forest on a rare free afternoon

i think she would've once been the type to enjoy prosey, flowery words, long poems, romantic tales of star-crossed lovers, that kind of thing. she read a lot and even wrote some. not any more though.

she has a very stern and strict air about her and won't hesitate to play into that if she feels like she needs to, but honestly she's got a good sense of humour on her. things that pierro scolds the other harbingers and such for are often things that she secretly finds really funny

though ALSO she's a stickler for good manners. i like to think that has extended to the snezhnayans , who are, when dealing with those outside of their immediate familial circles, are super duper polite (even if their tones may come off as abrupt). there's also a very heavily laid-on vibe of 'respect your elders' in snezhnaya.

she has such motherly vibes, but in a really standoffish way. she wont tell someone directly that she cares about them or what happens to them, but it'll be rerouted through like three other people like a game of telephone. like, yeah, that one person she caught shivering while on guard is gonna get a nice new pair of gloves but it will be from an anonymous donor (or just shoved into their hands by pierro with an annoyed grunt)

honestly now ive started im kind of finding it hard to stop but i just adore the tsaritsa so much and i love love love how you draw her so much, she's just so amazing and feels so like.. real, y'know? thank you so much for this ask, i really enjoyed rambling and thinking about the tsaritsa some more. i think your design and ideas should be canon actually

[acaciapines]

so....abt that adventure time daemon au....sits down with folded hands. im SO SO curious as to what your thoughts are and lowkey wondering if theyre anything like what ive been cooking up in my twisted mind...slash joke...YOU GO FIRST I WANNA KNOW!!

jkdfgdjfkg yeah im gonna focus on the fionna + cake aspects since thats what i posted but if you wanna know about someone else send a followup!! i have the strongest ideas for marceline and more scattered thoughts on everyone else but!! i turn this around in my head a lot lol.

under the cut bc i am incapable of being short

so. the reason fionna world is Like It Is despite nominally being a human au is bc i decided that in ooo, humans are the only people with daemons! everyone else has Something Else, but that something else isnt actually a daemon (this bit is still fuzzy lol since it would just be more bg in anything i write).

so that means the only characters in adventure time who have/had a daemon are finn (tossing around the name honey for her?? shes unsettled but mostly dogs bc they grew up with dogs lol), marceline (she lost her daemon upon becoming a vampire, gets her back at the end of stakes. do not ask me what she is settled as idk as of now lol), and simon (lost her upon becoming ice king, he does Not get her back. i think its fun if she is a penguin bc that makes ice king surrounding himself w penguins super tragic. he knows something is gone but cannot articulate what.)

also i guess people like susan strong and the humans on the human island but shhhh i dont have super strong ideas for them lol.

ALL THAT TO SAY. since fionnaworld was created by prismo (gonna be real idk what his deal is but he is obviously His Own Thing and as a deity type deal he probably is granted w 'can see dust' powers and thus has no idea what daemons are all about) and lives in ice kings/later simons head (one who doesnt know about daemons and one who is mourning the permanent loss of his own) when fionna and cake were "created" finn jake and finn's daemon were mashed into two characters, who are! human and daemon.

everyone else either never had a daemon in normal ooo (ex. pb) or didnt have them at the time fionnaworld was created and thus they werent carried over (ex. marceline.) of everyone tho probably marshall WOULD know the most, this is why he has a line in my fic where he's like, do you know what i'd do for a weird cat? as a sort of hint that he SHOULD have a daemon, but. alas.

uhhh. where am i going with this.

OH RIGHT so yeah basically when fionnaworld became de-magicked it took with it a lot of people's points of connection--everyone ends up way more isolated than they were. since simon is mourning his own daemon that translates to daemons just Not Existing, and so fionna and cake are very much isolated from each other. they dont have the words for their relationship. all fionna knows is she needs cake with her, and vice versa.

cake IS still a daemon, but without that framework shes stuck in the 'normal cat' role even though she does a lot of noncatlike things, n her and fionna are very very good still at sorta knowing what the other is thinking and reacting accordingly. the people closest to fionna (so, really just marshall and gary lol) have SOME idea of what is up but if asked its more leftover instinct than like, the ability to actually explain any of this. fionna and cake try to interact w the world as a human-daemon pair but that doesnt work when the world has no fucking idea what that is.

uh. that. probably answers some question!! i think the plot of fionna and cake itself is MOSTLY the same...really fionna and cake just find out there is a word for who they are to each other n get that relationship reestablished which isnt a far cry from canon. i really like the stuff they do with betty/simon so i wouldnt want to change that, though i imagine there is a bit of simon mourning his lost daemon too--idk i feel like you could tie those feelings in if you were to write a full adaptation but i!! dont think enough changes to do that so i wont be lol.

i mostly just wanted to do episode one bc again. daemon in a world that doesnt know wtf a daemon is. truly the funniest and most tragic thing in the world.

[the-official-account]

I HAVE BEEN INFORMED THERE'S A NEW EPISODE HERE'S 26 LIVEBLOG BABEEEEYYYY

my podcatcher is cool and great and open source and ad free and all that shit but I haven't set up my notifications good and because this is my first episode as they come out (my inner fanatic is all grown up) im not used to the schedule but HHHASD;LPIG AHIP'LSF AG THE WAY I SCREEEEEAMED AND ACTUALLY DANCED FOR JOY HERE WE GO!!!!!

oh opening music my beloved. Oh shit I got so obsessed with Blorbos I briefly forgot exactly where we are in the story. Coping mechanism (slash joking slash lighthearted) im 👀👀👀👀 very hyped bery concerned

"you need to be making eye contact to be frozen" means it's vry easy to free spar!!! ahhh so they somehow duplicated the pendants....or found more??

BACKUP THINGS 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 IM ON DESKTOP AND I CAN ONLY HAVE ONE EMOJI COPIED TO MY CLIPBOARD AT AT TIME ASJKDLHFASDFH

also the title of this episode is making me excited

Ila's stress about spar's condition is such a mood

THIS TELEKENISIS NECKLACE THING IS SO BANGER.

ooh. oof. this drive. CRIT?????? NICE FUCK. WHEW.

SUUCESSED THE FUCK OUTA THAT.

Voracity fucking sucks sorry about your lineage bestie i do hope you die though

SPAR BALANCED HALWAYD ON A CATWALK, FROZEN, SNUGGLED UP TO AN AWFUL AWFUL VAMPIRIC ASSHOLE UHHHH

......that joker.

OH I FORGOT VELLUM CAN TELEPORT FOR A SEC with the power of looking INCREDIBLY sexy. I like this plan I'm feeling good about this plan

Jordan's clearly plotting some shit and i am HERE for it

"normally you are not conscious during it" NORMALLY???

Spar depersonalization crash course. OH WAIT NO SPAR STEVEN UNIVERSE MOMENTS. IM OBSESSED????

viscious spar.....hmmm......im making a face it's not a great face LASDFALHFAHS

I love that spar's first thing is to just get the gist of what he's got going on <3 LJSADFLKJAHSDJFKHASD HE GOES TO VELLUM A;LKSDFLJSHDFLJSADGFLJSHADFKAHSDFKLASDF SCOOBY DOO ASS LOVE BIRDS

Oh shit is Vellum gonna think spar is fucking dead???? VORACITY GOES TOPPLING WHICH IS HILARIOUS BUT SPAR TOO??????? HOLY SHIT????? LMAO????

we are thirteen minutes in.

IF YOU DIE IN YOUR BODY YOU DIE IN REAL LIFE ALKSDJF;LAKSDJFASKLD;FJALSDFJ

Essay protesting Voracity's stats is such a mood. What if...what if ya jus didn???

As spooky as this whole situation is, the mental image of spar having royallllly biffed it is sending me

Okay when I was very young, I used to play chess with a younger sibling of mine. And I did this thing where I would just take one rook and systematically go around capturing all their pawns because they didn't know how to protect them, while just kinda giggling. And that's the energy ipswitch is bringing right now, tkaing out all their backup.

EIGHT FUCKING CARDS

AD;ISFLG;ALKDSGASLDFK RING TOSS SITIONATION wasn't jakub with ipswitch? or going to him? and yeahhhh lunevella is an important ally.

Diamond? friend? mmmmmmmmmmmmnahhhh

YEAH LUNAVELLA!!!! MASSIVE WITCH LADY COME IN CLUTCH!

nooo fuck PLEASE dont make it diamond please please please LUNEVELLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA lesbiamb...YEAS

I forget what beloved does but mechanical nonsense is my favorite

NO SUCESSES ONE JOKER there are not emojis on this computer that describe...you know that one image of the hot cook guy from Queer eye looking traumatized? that.

"I'm having fun being a useless ghost boy" VALID i am also having fun. sometimes in a ttrpg you just wanna be/add to the problem for a bit!!! And that's ok

Voracity being pissed about being launched off the catwalk is SO Funny.

"so I could accomplish my goal without violence" BITCH YOU THREATENED TO MURDER SEVREAL-----FJHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO NO NO VORACITY ISNT ALLOWED TO CRIT LEAVE VELLUM ALOOOOOOOONE!!!!!!!!!

oh shit but vellum's turn now.......kick them back off!!!!!! asjdhfakjsdhfasdkflakdhf

TAEKWONDO!! switching instantly for a drive does seem like a good balance I like that mechanic

god I love my gay rule-abiding detectives who for some reason keep trying to fight the ONE being that EVERY rule is like don't fucking fight for the love of god do not fight them for the LOVE OF

"I imagine that vellum gets a cat stance, which is like an L stance" i know there is more informaiton here but my brain has already shifted into the "someone i know is talking about something they love and i understand very little of what's happening here but I'm just excited to listen" mode. But no i do need to know what cat stance is because this is so art in my brain. ill look it up later.

im so *chinhands*

OOOOOH BUT THIS DESCRIPTION IS SO GOOD i CAN SEE IT IN MY BRAIN SO WELL OOOOHAS;DFHKLASEHFASKDFHA VELLUM IS SO COOL

there are no ascii emojis for doing a silly stupid little happy stim but that's what's happening

oh shit luna can fly!

Lune deserves to be condescending to her enemies, she's dealt with so much bullshit.

Ooof we have the AA and now the bramble guard with MOTORCYCLES????? ugh!!! organizations!!!!! Lore!!!!!!!! im swooning. there is nothing sexier in my mind that good worldbuilding

tatiana related plans but not htis episode 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀????

yeah lmao fuck diamond.

okay but in my brain Desdemona was suuuuuuper pretty. Oh no!!! Don't make her endearing!!!!!!!

(sweetly) "So uhhh, people of cindershore as you can see....we have the people of theee passion fruit festival held hostage <3"

THEY WANTED TO DO THIS NON VIOLENTLY god fuck i hate fucking misinformation goddamn.

"side with crystallis of againse you own wellbeing" bestie how is that fucking nonviolent?????

"get your gummy jello fingies in here" hello i am uncomfortablleeee AHSDL;FHASDFHADJSFLHAKDSFJH

TERRORIST TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

I like to imagine that Kit's comments was ipswitch being genuinely helpful

oh god. there was a SPLIT second moment when my entirely world lit up with the GLEE that was Voracity biffing it off the catwalk again.

vellum pulls them...up? NOOO I MEAN THATS SMART BUT AHHHHH IM STAKING THE PROTAGONISTS LIKE A MIRACA (how the FUCK do you spell this im pretty sure i knew that) STOP PUTTING YOURSELF IN HARMS WAY AHHHHHHHHHH

i swear to GOD the host have an uncanny ability to say the joke i was thinking and I think we've just all got the same internet brain rot. my FIRST thought here was "None successes? left beef." and there we go. no funny left for the rest of us.

oooh what's jakub up to

WITCH TIME WITCH TIME WITCH TIME

"leave diamond where they are" you know, cause fuck em.

LUNA VELLA COMING IN FRIGGGGGING CLUTCH.

"Lunavella casts a spell that was taught to her by tara. Lunavella later taught it to jasper, who used it to talk to a god at a very crucial time"

the VOLUME at which i just sais "HUH?????" is IMMENSE.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? HELLP???? NO DONT MOVE ON HELLO??? HI! hIS I HAVE QUESTIONS?

Did jasper do the untethering???? Did jasper PERSONALLY speak to mommy magic???? Is that was Tara did to sacrifice her connection to magic for Merim & Josepha's freedom????? what...what does this mean....

SHE'S TALKING TO KRONOSAVA SHE CALLED THIS RELIC'S FUCKING PARENT. SHE SAID SHE'S GOING TO THE MANAGER. AJSHDFAJSHDFLKAJSHDF

An animatronic giant....HMMMMMM

okay but what is the triple threat if not just a small, minimalist mech suit?

"oh i do like information" "I know!!! Me to!!!" Oh my god they're suchhhh fucking nerds i fucking love them HASKLDJHFASDHFAKDJLFH GET ME TO A CLOSET.

AND JAKUB BLUSHES. AND OF COURSE IPSWITCH DOESN'T NOTICE CAUSE ITS IPSWITCH. THIS IS CUTE AS FUCK

I WANNA TRY TO POSSESS VORACITY Spar has been a ghost for like 2 minutes, and he was already like "When in rome!!!"

Kronosava manifests as a NINE FOOT TALL CLOCKWORK PERSON WITH MANY CLOCK FACES OF IMPOSSIBLE GEOMETRY????? COOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLL FUCKING RAD RAD RAD

Spar's ALONE with the TIME GOD al;jsdflkasdjfasdjlf

he did NOT just introduce himself....holllly shit lmaooo. "those who may be frozen by my eye are unworthy by my sight" oh so Spar is like. Time daddy's favorite blorbo. This makes sense to me. or maybe somewhat.

KRONOS SAY YALL KINDA SUCK SO I MADE YA DIE, CAUSE FUCK EM

Spar is NOT fucking out logicing this GOD im So here for this. fuck em up bestie FUCK EM UP!!!!!!

imagine your last name being considered by the GOD OF TIME now that's what I call clout.

"relative innocence" yeahhhhh. peace and lvoe on the planet earth, but emphasis on "on the planet earth"

Mayor lipton is the mayor of cindershore.

Okay I understanbd this scene im loving the vibes but MERIM FELSPAR THE SECOND IS NOOOOOTTTTT THE JUSTICE SYSTEM MR. TIME DADDY!!! He can't awnser for the crime and bigroties of Extra #8 and 13

YOU MAKE A GODDEX CHUCKLE that line will be living in my brain as something that can be so symbolism

I....I...I don't like this. wow i HATE how fast spar just traded off year of his fucking life span noooooo. fuck. fuck. fuckity fuck fuck fuck im in distress. ughhhhhh spar being spar.......I will have thoughts but first I need to sigh a lot ......Ugh.

but also fuck the gods im not vibing with this barter situation. is it good for the plot YES is deicide always an aspiration of mine also yes

"it feels like licking a battery with your hand' oooh mental sensory imaginings not good but very very cool

Like sourpatch kids watermelon flavor colorscheme.

*sadly, with hesitation* midtro dance midtro dance....

guhhhh spar....Spar why. Like I understand the choice but that was SO fast. HE DIDNT THINK ABOUT IT AND THAT'S WHAT I --UGHHHHHH

happy late birthday to essay!

ESSAY PLEASE STOP ASTRALLY PROJECTING PLACES ALSDFL;ASHFDLASHDFLKASF

Spar is a snacker and habituatally hands people snacks to keep them sustained.

God yall are just begging for me to write a communion (slash literary term related to chrstian, not christian practice itself. for as much as i say the words lord and god i like barely know who jesus is) fic....soon my toils will be over and my backlog will sing so my like the sirens lulling me away from an approaching storm, so instead my hyperfixation can crash violently upon the rocks and. it. will. be. GLORIOUS.

VELLUM WON A LEETLE KEETY <3<3<3

KIT CAME OUT SWINGING WITH THIS????? ....HUH????? BESTLJHAS;DIFHASDHFASJDFALKDSFKJASF. KIT SAID "IPSWITCH LOOKS AT SOME GAY SHIT END OF SENTENCE" IM DEAD. Im just imaginging Jakub looking at the performers, and at ipswitch, and at the performers, and in his head he's like "why does he look contemplative?"

Xbala, hilde, grey, anya play shoots and ladders at the safe house while knowing Spar, Vellum, ip, Jakub, and Luna are risking their lives fighitng voracity....that was me typing for speed but "Ip" as a nickname is really cute imo.

*much more enthusiatic end of midtro dance*

ILA I DON'T THINK THAT'S GOOD NEWS. DODGE IS ONE. AH. OH NO. HHHHH.

i made i sound like ID been bitten. Voracity. Rancid bestie, what if we like....didnt...

LIASDFASDJFASDF VELLUM'S BLOOD TASTES WIERD?????

*A deep sigh as I realize by having Beloved as a ultimate Vellum is, in fact, another self-sacrificial blorbo for the lot.*

Oh fuck he's so determined and valliant but i want him to STOP.

People should be reinvigorating and spar should be around soon??? im....spoooked. I know being unconcious isn't the end of the world though....

I think some of the gumw as given to Anya and may not have ever been returned? Which i only mention as a brief note for efforts and because these eps are recorded long ahead of time: i aint a snitch

spar to the recsue <3 <3 <3 king I'm imagining spar like Baseball-sliding in, swinging the sword like he's going to a home run, in slow motion. It's VERY cool.

SPAR IS AJUDSHLKJSAHGFKLJSADFGHAS THIS IS FO FUNNY I FUCKING LOVE THIS.

OHHHHH JUST ONE SHORT.

OH. OH SHIT. OH. PLEASE FLIP GOOD OH MY GOD. ID WOULD BE SCREAMING BUT IF I START SCREAMING i CAN'T HEAR.

AHHHHH;LFRGHA jumped so hard I pulled my chair up off the floor and keysmashed irrespocibly enough to put my compter to sleep. I'm SO normal.

The Animaation of this that exists in my brain through. Vellum gets bitten and Voracity reals back enough for you to see, between their faces, spar sprinting towards them reaching for his sword. The Camera whips to a side angle for spar's baseball swing. Slice! Spray of blood as vellum gets up a bit. Shot from below spar's chin to show his determined face and the long line of his arm and Bang! Bang! They all drop until his gun clicks empty. As there's a zoom in on the bat going for the window. One last bang and as Spar looks down the Camera does too, to show Vellym propped up on one arm holding His derringer high for a beat before his arms fall when he slumps in relief and he just smiles as ash rains down around them. Spar falls to his knees, and vellum slides over to kiss him...augh. AUGH!

Spar with a subtle scar over his hear that after 26 is raised and more obvious. For you know. Eventual shiftless art that WILL happen

Oh shit Jakub's getting a fucking promotion, huh?

LKJUAHSFGKJAHSKDFAHSDFKLASD IPSWITCH FINDS TERRORISM TAX FRAUD EVIDENCE I LOOOVE THAT FOR HIM OH MY GODDD <3.

Okay but Jakub being attracted to that is SO dorky and i love them and they're such sillyy guyssss. IPSWITH STARTLES.

"i have one more thing to end on!" [the episode has twnety minutes left]

Governor thorn middle ages. violet haired. carries a spear. CLEARLY need to pack her ass up and fuck off before she messes with Hilde, Anya, Grey and Xbala. I was only gonna mention my favoirites out of that grpup but not yeah they're all good. So throne need to like. go. I don't trust this.

"What's this about? how do you know where this is?" GOOD QUESTIONS.

FUCK. OFF. UNDER ARREST FOR WHAT. BITCH?

NO. NO. YOU DONT GET TO FUCKING END CREDITS MUSIC AFTER THAT FUCK YOU. FUCK OFF. WHAT. WHAT?

What.

i HEARD KEVIN AND I ACTUALLY GASPED. ITS MY FAVORITE CRINGEFAIL KING!!!!

CATBOY ASCE!!!!!!

OH WAIT im realizing....If SUITS has been abolished that Spar did retire after all, huh? Huh. Good for not having to report info about clovenheart. BAD news for whatever the fuck is happening to jack. Interesting news for Vellum's blood theirvery theories. And damn, I just sort of assumed Mayor Thorne was just like...Good Guy(TM) until....well until chapter 3 of tempest and teapots yesterday. God i love stories where things only get bigger. crunchy as hell.

THEY HAVE TO BOTH WEAR HIS CLOTHES STACKED ASJLDFALSDJFADF

I'm in love with Asce's himbo ass, he should NOT be enabling this and YET.

Iris has jury duty and then she's getting a massage and then she's going to therapy and then doing her therapy homework: considering new employment.

DOES CASEDYWM FUCKING STICK THEM IN HIS ACTUAL POCKET??????? OH NO.

ARE THEY JUST GONNA KEEP THE PIXIES IN HIS POCKET THE WHOLE TIME?

"I just need to know whose on top and whose...whose...whose the legs" Ah, when nature denies us our low hanging fruit

oh god I hope asce is left handed because otherwise Caedyn';s hand is occupied and Asce only has access to his non dominant hand

SDLFASDFAJSDFLASDF "I DONT KNOW HOW IT HELPS BIT I WANT IT"

"IS CADEWYN'S noSE PIECED" "IT IS NOW"

ASDKJFA;LSDJFASDF FUCK

added together they look like a great mintaur, yeah!! If someone shakes their head back and forth very fast

peer pressure confusion...sweet jesus.

JSADLFJALKDSFJAS just look abnormnal and blend in!!! This stratedgy would work in many of my social circles to be fair.

Not CALHOUN (just finished reading the 1619 project, that's the last name of the probably most cartoonishly evil & racist person in that entire book. Which, if anything, makes this mor funny for me

HE GIVES CADEWYN MORE ALCOHOL. NOOOO LMAOOOOOO

A BRILLIANT TACTICAL PLAY YOU'RE NOT HIGH LEVEL ENOUGH TO GET FULL DETAILS ON.

I was gonna make a joke about xbala getting arrested in the background but then it hit me: anya is a defense lawyer. A defense lawywer who already fucking hates Thorn. A defense lawyer who already hates thorn who has made up with spar and befriended Xbala and in all likelyhood has the support of the Harrington's behind her. She might. She might fuck it up. Take no prisoners, but like, the opposite way that's usually meant. still just as fuckign rad tho. my brain is turning. rotating like a microwave plate. mmmmmmmmm.

That scene was so funny though. cherry on top of a wonderful episode. i have...i have things to consider.

@threeheartscast @citrusandsalt @ilaalexei

[obeymeluv]

Isnt devildom liquor weaker than human world liquor? Mc had beat Asmo in a drinking contest. How do you think it they'd act, completely hammered in the human world. I think harder liquor means stupider drunks.

Spoiler alert to the in-game MC’s “heritage” reveal. You know, the descendent/reincarnation thing. If you know, you know.

Below: Thoughts on Devildom liquor + the specific incident Nonnie is talking about with Asmo in game + THE ACTUAL ANSWER TO THE ASK. My bad, haha.

My thoughts on Devildom liquor at that point in the game:

The MC is not as affected because they are human/angel. Maybe the angel part fortifies MC and makes it harder for them to get drunk?

Maybe the HUMAN side of MC is what makes it harder for them to get drunk on Devildom liquor? Like...everything in the Devildom is made primarily for demons so maybe there are ingredients in there that specifically affect those with demon blood. Maybe humans don’t have the biology to be inebriated by those ingredients?

I am a little fuzzy on that point in the game but did Asmo pre-game? Like, a lot? Did we ever find out? I could see him being so emotionally distraught that his lovely MC is leaving that he just wants to be sloshed. Maybe he assumed MC beat him in a drinking contest because he forgot how much he already drank?

Maybe Solomon gave MC a heads up that Asmo was down for drinking and gave them a pre-game potion of their own to ward off the affects.

End hypothesis: Maybe Devildom liquor IS strong (for demons) but that potency just can’t translate in human bodies so the bros (Lucifer especially) don’t want MC drinking it because they’re not sure what it will do. They just ASSUME it will do to MC what it does to them.

Other thoughts: Because demons sprinkled little secrets to the humans over the course of history, gave them trinkets and magic and things, I’d like to think they gave humans the idea or process of alcohol-making but are TOTALLY not prepared for the end result. All the flavors, types, etc. 

As far as I understand it (at the point I’m at in the game), travel between the Devildom and human world was widely discouraged until Diavolo could make a program that united the three realms and improved the overall image. So basically everyone has been separated for thousands of years.

What if demons are equally bad at holding human world liquor? I could just see a drunk Asmo being like, “What is this? Sangria? This isn’t what I told them to call it.” as he’s trying to drink and (speed) walk away from Beel, who wants the fruit out of the pitcher.

I could just see them all getting TOTALLY wasted on human world stuff just because they thought “Ahh, we taught them this 5,000 years ago! Of COURSE we can handle it! We invented it!” (spoiler alert: they cannot). Like, I’d like to think their biology works against them here. They heal quicker and probably get over stomach aches and things quicker, so they probably metabolize alcohol quicker to restore bodily equilibrium so they probably get flash-drunk off of just about anything with a decent alcohol content. 

HOW THEY WOULD ACT (AKA: the real question)

The facts: 

They’re all going to be like drunk kittens, big bassy purrs and wanting to cuddle you or scent you. 

They’ll basically curl up in a pile together; you occasionally have to move body parts (so no one suffocates). 

Do a head count every now and then, give them some crackers/carbs when needed, and put water all around them like a summoning circle because when one of them wakes up, all of them will and they’ll act like big babies

Put a bucket near Lucifer and Asmo, they’re sympathy pukers.

Levi and Belphie need total sensory deprivation when they wake up. You may only breach the darkness to bring them things to settle their stomach and anything to kill the headache

Just give Beel bread and anything like Gatorade/Pedialite. He’ll help you with the others after three loaves or so.

Asmo will be especially pitiful and demand you take care of the others first. Once they’re decently able to take care of themselves he’s near teary-eyed, demanding tummy rubs and tell him he’s still pretty even though he feels awful. Please get him a sheet mask.

Mammon’s not functional enough to help with anything major but he’s standing the next day so he rubs that in everyone’s face. He’s the one shuffling around with a half-eaten sandwich, looking for any comfort item (heating pack, cold wrap for his head). He will demon screech at you if you touch any of the lights in the house.

As Mammon comes to, he demands dim lights and acts like a grumpy mom. He’s making porridge and they better shut up and eat it. Says it’s for him but there’s a suspicious amount of bowls nearby.

Satan just swears he’ll never drink again (like always). Dutifully waits for porridge. Spends most of his time letting cold water run over his head. Can’t spend too much time hunched over because he gets nauseous. Baby him a little. Find a way to let his head float in a bit of water where he can lay down and he’s as quiet as a mouse. 

Who can drink the most? (Best to worst - my opinions only)

1) Beel (body mass helps), 2) Mammon (party king), 3) Asmodeus (huuuge history with mixed drinks. Boy is READY), 4) Lucifer, 5) Satan (neck and neck with Lucifer - casual drinker only. Even wine is rare for him), 6) Leviathan, 7) Belphie (usually sleeping instead of drinking). 

Lucifer:

We’ve seen little gags about how ‘Lucifer got drunk and unplugged the router’ so this guy’s either going to be super cuddly, a hot mess, or both

You know the people who fluff their hair, comb it back, undo a tie or some buttons and just get comfy as they drink? That’s Lucifer.

He’ll smile a bit more, laugh a bit more, and there will be some color to his cheeks

He’s not sloppy, just cozy. 

Drunk Lucifer is not overly loud but he is honest. He won’t throw himself into groups or pester all the brothers, but he’s up for some accidentally-heartwarming one-on-one

When he’s drunk he’ll lay his head on your shoulder and let you play with his hair

Will not win any drinking games. Is actually a lightweight compared to his brothers (see best > worst drinker, above).

Mammon:

GO BIG OR GO HOME! MAMMON’S HERE TO PLAY FOR BIG MONEY! (AKA: bragging rights that he can handle more than his brothers)

He and Asmo are quick to get the drinks flowing because they want to try shots of everything. 

He and Asmo are pretty good at matching brothers to drinks and tasting subtle notes, things like that

Show Mammon beer pong once and it’s done. He’s betting the brothers he can whoop them and is somehow able to pull off ping pong ball math to get Lucifer shit-faced real quick (might do it even faster if Belphie or Satan slip him some money)

The type to be like “Bet you I can hit that cup right there--third row, second from the left.” and can do it flawlessly. You have to give him head pats or $5, that’s the rules.

He’ll be one of the bros you have to chase around and make put his clothes back on. Boy will try to strip and strut

Will definitely hoard his favorite bottle (picked it on smell) and spend a majority of the time trying to drink it and avoid the bros. (”YOU CAN’T MAKE ME SHARE IF YOU CAN’T CATCH ME!”)

Leviathan

Not the best drinker. Not a frequent drinker at all.

His envy makes him drink because as he starts to go on a tangent about how ‘it’s not fair! Everyone’s having a good time!’ when he realizes it’s as easy as picking up a drink. Like...he can join in too.

Levi won’t grab himself an alcoholic drink because he’s a nervous over-thinker. Asmo or Mammon will just hand him a cup like the resident Liquor Fairy and he trusts their judgement

The first one to let his demon form out just because the liquor is a little warm in his belly and he feels like he’s flying? Also comfortable?

The excited drunk who goes on animated, slurred rants

The loud laugher

He’s honestly so adorably animated that anyone who knew him would be surprised? He seems far from a shut in

Trade off: he can’t hold his liquor well

Boy probably trips on his own tail or thinks something snagged his ankle to bring him down when, in fact, he just fell down

Sways when he sits

When he’s done, he just wants a nice comfy lap to lay in and maybe play with his hair. 

Like Lucifer, liquor will make him confess all his feelings. 

Watch out for the tail. It will be all over you when he starts to lose the ability to wrap it around himself.

Satan:

It’s a toss-up as to whether he gets drunk before Lucifer or vice versa. I’d like to think his tolerance is slightly higher since he might run in the same circles as Asmo, but he is a part of Lucifer so I’m sure it balances out

He’s a drink snob and this is what hurts him the most. He goes to fancy tastings and random things he’s invited to, but this is a drop in the bucket

He’s never gone hardcore before because he’s afraid he’ll be prone to anger

He’s not. He’s actually a lot like Levi. He just wants to smile and laugh and have fun.

The one who knows a lot of random/interesting stuff and has unexpectedly awesome party tricks

He and Asmo act as instigators and somehow con everyone else into getting drunk. It’s mostly because he wants blackmail material, but he enjoys the mind games

He’s the one you’re going to have to carry BUT he’s super chill when he’s having a good time. You want him to wear a lampshade? Okay, but only if you call him Enlightened One (get it?)

Makes bad jokes. Lucifer definitely laughs

The one that randomly dances with someone at the party. But it’s a fancy dance or slow dance, not something crazy

Will try to prove he’s not as drunk as he is by reading or reciting something and just breaks down into snorts and giggles

Cat Mode: Activated. He wants to be all over you. Hug him and play with his hair, please.

Asmo:

Asmo isn’t really different from his usual self.

He’s a little social butterfly, making his rounds and checking on people

He’s the silent, sneaky drunk. No one notices he’s drunk until his face starts getting red and his eyes get glassy

The quiet cuddler. Just progressively gets closer to you until he’s resting his head on your shoulder, hugging you from the side and asking you to give him his drink.

Would be the happiest person on the planet if you literally just held his drink up to his lips and let him drink it when he wanted to. You just love him so much?! You’re so thoughtful?! He wants to cry

Guilty party #2 for ‘chase him around and make him put his clothes back on’

Next in line for ‘Liquor makes me tell the truth and my darkest secrets’.

Will try any activity at the party and will dance at least once with everybody

If he gets in a fight, that’s because someone doesn’t respect what he put on the party playlist. He knows good music, okay?!

Has a personal goal to steal one drink from everyone, drink it before they realize, and hand them back the empty cup as he slips away. Something about it just amuses him.

Wants to leave lipstick/lip gloss kisses on people. Thinks they’re the cutest accessory!

The one who loses something at the party and makes everyone look for it the next day

The one who’s passed out in a random spot and no one has the heart to move them but everyone checks on them to make sure they’re safe. When everyone’s turned in for the night, he is safely moved like the precious baby he is.

Beel:

The one who takes the longest to get drunk. You don’t know if it’s because of his build or how much he ate to offset the alcohol

Unofficial baby sitter of the group. Pays special attention to everyone but Belphie, Asmo, and Levi in particular.

Not super loud. Just vibes and enjoys time with his family.

He’ll participate in the party activities because he does have that competitive streak but he’s not as invested in it as Mammon. If he wins at least once he’s proved his point and is on to something else

Surprsingly, #3 to ‘you might have to chase him and make him put his clothes on’. Drunk Beel is convinced he’ll get over the alcohol faster with less clothes because of temperature regulation and something that doesn’t really make sense because he’s slurring

Will drink more if Belphie is nearby or if he can hold onto Belphie. Taking care of Belphie and knowing he’s okay (in a tactile way) makes him a little more carefree. 

Doesn’t really confess like the other bros but he’s the one no one can really hear talking because his purr takes over everything. His purrs are so loud and deep! Big boy is truly happy

Drunk Beel is affectionate as ever and this is where you learn that demons can express affection by licking people. Most of the bros end up with a Simba-style mohawk. It’s just one lick but Beel’s got a long tongue and it fucks with hair real good.

Will jump in for a song or two if karaoke is a thing at the party. A really good singer but wouldn’t do it unless he had a decent amount of alcohol in him.

He’s the type to trip over stuff trying to help clean up. If he falls down he says he’s just ‘taking a break’ and will ‘help in a minute’. Might not get up again.

Once Beel lays down, Belphie, Satan, and Levi drunk crawl/stumble/slither over to him for warmth. This is how the cuddle pile starts.

When he lays down, if you get anywhere near him, he’s begging you to lay down with him. Wants to whisper little compliments and lovely things. A big sap. Handsy but will definitely know when to lay off and will listen if you get uncomfortable. 

Belphie:

Honestly, doesn’t really drink. He’s more interested in the nap.

His biggest motivation is to get the others drunk so everyone’s quiet and he can sleep. Definitely wants Lucifer blackmail.

He’ll have a few things but he prefers a lot of something mild versus a mix or a few shots of something super potent

Will try the funnel drink challenge.

The third enticer. He wants to work everyone up (Lucifer especially) and get the booze going.

Borrows off of Beel’s body mass and ability to handle alcohol here and there, but it all catches up with him eventually

The type to have really diluted drinks because he’s already sleepy by nature and doesn’t want to faceplant with a shot glass.

Will slow dance with Asmo. When Asmo starts to struggle with his weight as Belphie gets cozy and sleepy, Beel steps in and you just see the twins purring and warbling to each other as Beel just scoops him up and lets him sit on his hip like a toddler.

Another one who wants to slither into your lap and take all your attention.

The type to do random shit like boop your nose and giggle about it.

The one who doesn’t want anyone else to touch you. If he’s laying on you then the others need to leave you alone. It’s not hard to understand!

[strawhatsweets]

golden

Kenma x GN!reader

Im trying to stray away from my comfort zone of just writing readers that use she/her so bear with me

sorry if this lowkey sucks but it was inspired by harry styles song golden

cw: big cursing, huge fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, aged up!

come to my asks to be a part of my taglist! just let me know what kinds of fics/ what fandom/ what characters/ etc you want to be tagged in!

Requests are open!!

-------------------------------------

Being a streamer comes with perks. Being comfy at home, not having to face people in real life every day, playing games, typical shit. Another perk is making good friends.

Meeting people on a voice chat is common for Kenma -guys and gals alike. What he wasnt expecting one night was the sweetest voice on the other end of his headphones.

"You're all fucks- I'm better at this game than all of you combined. Try me."

To think that was the sentence that made Kenma's ears perk up and burn.

"What the hell ever- we have the great Kodzuken on our side." One of the guys said, half joking half dead serious.

"Oh yeah, he isn't even speaking up to defend your pussy asses- probably knows I could beat him too." You could hear the smirk in that last part.

"U-uh, no. You can't beat me. Nobody can actually. Not at this game." Kenma rebutted , confident in his gaming skills but not so much his speaking skills to this stranger.

"Oh man, you certainly sound confident. Come on, Kodzuken- 1v1 me then. Show me who the best really is."

Kenma suddenly felt nervous. Should he really demolish this stranger? Isn't it polite to let the person you like win? He didn't like this person yet but god their voice was attractive.

"Fine. Send the request." He decided.

"Sent, fucker."

The game resulted in a tie because this stranger actually knew what they were doing. They both threw friendly insults at each other the whole time of course, making each of them laugh a little.

"Okay fine. The great Kodzuken himself almost beat me. Im almost honored to have a great streamer almost beat me."

"Well you almost beat me too- uh-" Kenma stuttered over the fact that he didn't know how to address this stranger.

"Oh! Call me Y/n." The person giggled.

"You can uh, call me Kenma."

"Oh you don't want me to repeat your title over and over like everyone else?" They laughed.

"No, friends don't call me that. They use my name name." His ears were burning.

"Friends, huh? Guess that means you owe me your number so we can schedule a rematch where I can properly beat your ass."

"Huh, guess so."

A few months had gone by and Y/n and Kenma were as close as they could be. They found out they live close by each other and began hanging out a lot.

Y/n would be in the back of his streams on occasion and wouldn't hesitate to speak up during them. Thats the thing about Y/n. They've always been so outspoken. Since the start. Everything they talk about comes so easy to Y/n. Nothing is held back. Kenma knows everything about them. He on the other hand is still a bit closed off. Quiet. The two are so opposite yet so alike. Kenma doesn't speak much about himself, opting to listen.

Especially when talking about past relationships.

One night, they were sat in Kenmas room in separate chairs, letting conversations flow.

"So, you've dated but why have the relationships ended?" Y/n asked.

"Ah, I dont know- its not important. Why did yours end?" Kenma flipped the question as he always does.

"One guy cheated," Y/n tossed a piece of popcorn in the air, missing their mouth and brushing it off. "One girl left because she was leaving for school, and one guy just didn't mesh with me. Your turn." Y/n pushed the question back.

"Uh- well. I don't click with people easily. I'm pretty closed off so when I date it usually ends in hurt feelings by accident or they get sick of me." Kenma finally admitted.

"Huh." Y/n flopped onto their stomach on the bed after setting down the popcorn. "Don't you like anyone though? Like- if you liked someone enough, do you think you would give opening up a shot?"

"I mean I guess. Nobody ever takes the time to...pry me open." That got a laugh out of Y/n. Good. "But yeah I do like someone."

Sitting up suddenly, Y/n became visibly excited.

"TELL ME WHO."

"No god no- it isnt important." Kenmas ears burned again.

"Come onnnnn. Its gotta be someone big time cool to earn your heart. I have to approve."

Y/n pulled Kenma from his chair to the bed, not letting go of his hand as he sat down.

"Theyre very cool- and very sweet. Understanding. Someone who stands up for me and makes me comfortable-" Kenma began gushing.

"Do I know them?" Y/n interrupted.

"Y-yeah. You sure do." Kenma scratched the back of his neck.

"Oooh ok, a guessing game. Describe them more- their looks!" Y/n held his hand tighter, bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Well- ok." Kenma took a deep breath and decided he could be vague enough. "Theyre short. As short if not shorter than me. Competitive. Very cute smile-"

"TOO VAGUE give me the JUICY DETAILS" Y/n pushed.

"They uh- they have..pretty eyes." He was staring at this point, eyes wandering around Y/ns face to find more things to describe. "cute nose too I guess. Squishy cheeks. Glasse-"

"WHO THE HELL IS IT KENMA- its starting to sound like youre describing me." Y/n laughed.

"No- I'm totally not!" Kenma rushed.

"Tell this person you like them. You look so happy when you talk about them. Its kind of sickening."

"I can't just do that." Kenma stated flatly.

"Yeah you can."

"No-"

"DO ITTTT. Nothing to be scared of- it's CUTE. They would be dumb to not like you."

Kenma sighed, knowing he couldn't tell Y/n the truth about who he liked. What does he usually do when he's put in a corner like this? Oh thats right-

"Who do you like then Y/n?" He asked, proud of himself for deflecting again.

"Oh thats easy. You." Y/n said, letting go of his hand and laying back on the bed, leaving Kenma sitting up and stunned.

"What? No I mean a crush idiot. Who do you liiikkkeee?" Kenma pushed, hoping he didn't hear Y/n wrong.

"You, Kenma. I've had a crush since our first tie in a game. Thought that was obvious-"

Kenma flopped back on the bed as well. The both of them looking at each other.

"Oh. My person is uh... really... open and honest." Kenma said quietly.

"Is that why you wont tell them?" Y/n asked just as hushed.

"Yeah... what if right now they say yes but then their feelings change one day? That would hurt so bad. Worse than not telling them ever." He whispered.

There was silence. They knew what they both just admitted. Kenmas heart started racing. This might've fucked everything up. He might lose them. But they like him too so why is he so scared?

Y/n held his hand again.

"I know that youre scared because I'm so open...but hey... If you wanna give it a try..." Y/n whispered, scared about whether or not their honesty fucked them over.

"You might be right this time Y/n." Kenma whispered.

The space between them was closed due to both of them being drawn together like magnets in that moment. A sweet kiss.

"Let's try it then. I'll work on... being more open if you'd like." Kenma said.

"Kenma. I dont want you to change one bit. I like you the way you are."

Acceptance. It was the best thing Kenma has ever felt.

[nagdabbit]

MY GIRLFRIEND'S COMMENTARY WHILE WATCHING HER FIRST AEW PPV

"my entire fitness goal is hook's shoulder-waist ratio, but with taz's extremely dense neck."

"the funniest thing about wrestling is that this fucking company is trying to make something called a stadium stampede sound both cool, AND serious."

gf: "if you cry listening to a crowd sing judas again, im divorcing you." me: "so that means youre gonna marry me." gf: "i've been bamboozled."

about brian cage: "this man is a huge dork. like, literally, i could fit me in him."

"i dunno what it is, but i would die to protect mr. hangman. he hunk, but he also baby."

thoughtfully, "i bet i could just catch you out of the air like that. i mean, i can squat you, i could probably even curl you like that, too."

because she is deeply in wrestling twitter now: "HOOK! babe, look, its hook! hook hive, rise up!"

"what i love about this feud is that all these men are fuckin' idiots. no brain cells, just shoes and fwiendship."

"what do you mean their tag team isn't just the wild boys, wtf? missed opportunity."

"those kicks are ugly, but i would steal them, too, honestly." *thirty seconds of silence layer* "for you, babe. i'd steal them for you, i mean."

"jon, no, the germs, jon, jesus christ, please dont drink that jon you dumbass."

"i love eddie, but i'm pretty sure we should never hang out. too much extremely new york energy, we would get arrested in like ten minutes. possibly less."

"diorsday device is the funniest shit ive ever fucking heard, how goddamn sad is that."

"max caster is gonna get murdered, but i love him."

"i wish bowens and his extremely attractive boyfriend the best in life."

"colt cabana and tay conti are tied for best smile in wrestling, but tay wins because i dont want colt to kick me in the face."

"penta is the only joker i formally recognize."

"today i found out that some people don't like stu and uno, and to them i say get entirely fucked."

after rush came out and i lost my entire shit: "i don't fully understand yet, but i support you." *one minute later* "oooooooooooohh. okay, yeah."

gf: "i enjoy that cody is pushing ogogo by being a dumb bitch with this america schtick." me: "you gonna say that when cody wins?" gf: "...fuck."

"ogogo got that guy ritchie movie ass music you love to see it."

"you were right about cody and i fuckin' hate it."

"aw yeah, its big boi season."

about miro: "i'm very gay, but the thing is, men with extremely jacked traps just do something to me."

"lance changed changed the color of his extensions and i appreciate that." *thirty seconds later* "are those... three crosses? tattooed on his back? jesus doesnt like murder, i don't think he likes murderhawks, either."

"britt baker is the only dentist i want in my mouth. no, wait, don't type that one!"

"oh, fuck, shidas getting teary i'm gonna fuckin cry, oh fuck, i get it now, i'm so sorry i made fun of you, i love her."

"oh fuck, shida knee me directly in the face."

"britt scares me. like the blood drip details on her gear are really cool, but i would legit believe its real blood from her."

"are you really crying about britt and the nice announcer man hugging?"

"hey, quick question, just real quick while ive got you here... why is the emo twink... like this?"

"darby's dad looks like my dad, and i'll never be okay with that."

"i like that darby just yeets himself around like that. he came in like a wrecking ball. a tiny, tiny wrecking ball."

"sting just tossing his son around the ring like that is very good, but, sir, that's bad parenting."

"the thing about sky and page is that these are the suburb guys i beat up at the beach on summer vacation. they have big "i robbed these guys at the pier" energy."

"damn, darby just feels his emotion with his entire face, doesnt he."

"okay explain the gambling thing and WHY it's a thing."

"orange rolling into the ring is so fucking good, that man is national treasure."

after me showing her the video of younger orange cassidy shitfaced and holding a fish for no reason: "i am shocked and appalled that you're only showing me this now."

after explaining the history of the jansport: "the range of this dumbass."

"i get that kenny is good and all, but his hair really fucks me up. it's upsettingly bad and i hope he knows that."

"pac is just. so much muscle. flippy beef man. a meateor." she did specify how to spell it for the joke because it was important.

"that man is a weeb, isnt he."

"something about a man breaking a hold by putting his hands in his pockets really gets me hype."

"fuck just murder omega and be done i hate this, put it on the beef man or the juicey boy already."

"babe, ill be right back i gotta murder this callis bitch."

screaming, "THAT'S MY FAVORITE REF, YOU UGLY FUCK!"

after kenny won: "i fucking hate wrestling, this is bullshit."

"holy fuck, babe, i forgot mark henry was a wrestle boy! i know him from the olympics!"

"hey, is mark henry bigger than large paul?"

"mjf is a dumb bitch and i love him."

"hey, quick question, who thought repelling down the stadium would look cool, they're so far away."

"there's wardlow, my sweet boy. this is cool now."

she laughed for a solid two minutes at tony schiavone saying, "here comes the little guy."

"i fuckin hate hager. kill him wardlow, kill that crispy maga ass bitch."

"okay what's with the chairs." *after a brief explanation of the chairshot heard round the world* "and, like, he can't just pick a new gimmick? it's been two years, bro. move on, shes not coming back."

"okay, i admit that this is great and i love it, kill that old man on the dancefloor."

upon learning this is technically the main event: "you mean it's over after this? theyre ending the show on THIS? not the triple threat match, this?"

"i just noticed mjf's bedazzled jeans, i'm not angry anymore, this is perfect."

"no, more wardlow. gimme the beef."

"christ, sammy guevara is kinda incredible and i'm fuckin angry about it. why cant inner circle be just sammy and santana and ortiz, fuck the other two."

"no, shut up! i refuse to sing along to this! whats wrong with you?! this is a bad song!"

[lunarrwolf]

masterlist

coffee over boys: a college au

chapter(s)

08: do it, i’m begging you

previous

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taglist

@minninugget @chai-tea-isnt-real @speedmetalqueen @the-fandoms-georgie @cheesecakes-randomshitz @theunicornnamedearl

summary

the anticipation of a midterm and some news on amajiki

start

when it came to training, aizawa was by far the worst man you had ever encountered in your life.

what was more deadly than going up against top tier villains and nearly being smashed into pieces in order to win? going up against top heroes posing as villains except they make sure to be ten times stronger because the students fighting them for an exam are now young adults instead of teens training to be pros. it was bad enough when all might was still the number one hero, able to smoke up into his physical hero persona and crack down a shop with a flick of the wrist. now you all had to go against todoroki’s father, a man covered in flames and internal regrets that seeped out during fights. what the hell would your own quirk even do against fire? make it burn brighter? make it so he couldn’t see you even with his self produced—?

wait. “that’s exactly what i can do!”

the yellow haired boy beside you shot up from his book, taken back by the outburst. denki could only look on as you didn’t even bother to explain before scribbling things down in your notebook. he watched the speed of pencil against paper with concern at this sudden motivation to study anything besides astronomy. for as long as they all knew you, not once had you carried such interest in passing a physical exam with flying colors. “uh, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“you’re starting to scare me.”

pausing midway between a sentence, you met the bright eyes of your electric friend. a giggle bubbled its way out of your throat at the wide eyed stare, and you set the pencil down. “is it that impossible to believe that i want to study?”

his face scrunched together as he tried to string together the words: “study? not at all. acting like deku and writing in the quirkbook you made in high school that you haven’t touched since? absolutely.”

“i’m not that bad, denki.” you snorted out, waving away the comment he made on the sound you just made. “anyway, lightning rod,” you began, ignoring the offended cry, “everyone knows the lack of enthusiasm i have for my abilities. bakugo helped me see how dumb i was being the other day and i want to work for it this time. besides, i don’t want to end up in the infirmary again.”

denki hummed, drumming his fingertips against the table of the library table. “it is kind of your fault. you can’t do such draining moves without consequence.”

“says the guy who loses his whole brain for ten minutes every time he goes over 900,000 volts!” you exclaimed, tossing the unused pen at his face. grumbled complaints were heard as he did the same, adding a small shock to your cheek as payback. ‘that doesn’t happen anymore and you know it,” he retorted, which only brought on jokes between the pair of you. messing around with the human pokemon was one of your favorite things to do, even when he was on the verge of being right and you just didn’t want to admit it.

contrary to the beauty of laziness, you had more important things to do. like aim to get the highest personal score in the midterm and see if you could get in contact with amajiki; you hadn’t gotten a reply in a couple of days.

it shouldn’t have been any cause for concern, if you were being honest with yourself. though the feeling couldn’t be shaken. the fatgum agency hero was too invested in staying in with select people or inventing new flavors with you at the cafe. there was no way he’d go over a day without updating you on the mission if it meant the villain catching was delaying his time with friends and a bed. “why don’t you just ask kirishima if he’s heard from him if you’re so worried? they worked together because of the internship.”

you gasped, hitting the young man on the shoulder. “denki, you’re a genius!”

“yeah, that’s what i’ve been saying for the past six years.” he countered, rubbing the sore spot from where you punched him.

[zettaiunmeis]

HI THANKS TO @raventrigonsdaughter LETTING ME KNOW THAT OG GAME CARMEN AND JULIA USED TO BE PARTNERS BEFORE CARMEN WENT ROGUE, LET ME PROPOSE: VILE!JULIA.

details under the cut because this got Long

jules is part of the either the same class the ~infamous~ black sheep

and they don’t? really like each other? like julia is still kinda Serious and she doesnt really appreciate the vile squad goofing around and tossing water balloons or whatever and black sheep finds julia a little too uptight even if she’s interested in a lot of the same things (history, etc.)

black sheep’s speciality is Being SLick, as we know, but julia’s is patterns (and also historical artifacts)

ok but the important part of this is that bc julia’s is patterns, she ends up being like a scout or smth along those lines bc she can analyse patterns and report back to help plan the caper

and that basically means that when she graduates, she ends up in far more long cons than any of the others

anyway, after black sheep gets in trouble for the water balloon thing, the faculty decide she’s far too mischievous, and so, they assign her a partner — julia

(side note: its kind of the same thing that ends up happening to jean-luc and antonio a bit later on, but thats more because they work well together, and less bc either one of them needed a grounding influence)

anyway black sheep and jules again. do not like each other. but that doesnt mean they dont work well together — julia’s got an eye for patterns, and black sheep has every thieving trick in the book ready and waiting up her sleeves (alongside an instinct for thievery)

slowly, as they are forced to work together more and more, they kind of reach a less tense partnership and then one day black sheep makes a history joke and thats how they become friends

like julia is still very pointedly Not friends with the rest of the vile squad bc they’re still very reckless and immature, etc

but shes sort of seen black sheep when she’s been more grounded and less hyper/feral and she?? kind of doesnt mind??

bc grounded black sheep isnt constantly trying to prove that she’s The Best and grounded black sheep isnt trying to prove that she’s more than just the teacher’s pet — she’s kind of just having fun with julia and julia’s been so serious about her training that she hasnt really made any other friends and…. its nice

its nice to have black sheep loudly slip into the seat next to her and and tease julia about whatever recent historical discovery she’s researching and pull her out of her own head once in a while

and its nice to have black sheep glance over in the middle of class when sheena — sorry tigress — whines about something or the other and roll her eyes in the same way julia feels like doing, even if something strange sticks in her throat when carmen does the same with gray

she can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but at some point, she starts thinking of black sheep as her friend and it’s an exciting enough thought that she’s got a little smile on her face next time black sheep slips into the seat next to her in professor maelstrom’s class

and at some point julia stops being just julia to black sheep, and starts being jules because we’re in a school for thieves, but we’ve already got plenty of ~jules~ right here and thats sincerely the worst joke i’ve ever heard and oh really ~jules~? bet i could find an even worse one

and like all the usual stuff is still happening in the background — shadowsan-black sheep rivalry, gray and the Squad being black sheep’s friends, the phone and player, etc.

its just that now, black sheep has a bit of a calming influence and that does help!

and they work well enough that most people assume that julia and black sheep will be partners after graduation 

even crackle acknowledges it — despite the jealousy he feels at the knowledge

so things continue and all this happens, but then comes finals.

things go the same. black sheep gets perfect scores in all of her exams, except stealth 101

julia — now the historian — can’t help but check for whether black sheep graduated too and just as she does, she hears crackle say it: she didn’t pass

and she wants to go to black sheep and ask if she’s okay because everyone knows how much black sheep’s wanted this, how much she’s been working for it, but by the time gray’s been dragged off by tigress, black sheep has disappeared and julia has no idea where she’s gone

so she waits for a bit in the cafeteria and in the dorms and anywhere else she thinks that black sheep would be and she sees… nothing

and about twelve hours after the results, the faculty pulls her for her first mission (for context, this is before the whole,,, hear the true name of vile thing) which is basically being a plant for the morocco mission, by pretending to be an archaeology phd student from oxford who’s come to study the findings in the excavation

and she’s busy enough with that that she barely gets to think about black sheep or graduation or anything other than the near-overwhelming anxiety that comes with the horrifying ordeal of potentially being Known but she just manages to figure out like,,, guard rotations, as well as the exact objects that are at the site for the vile squad to steal

and then she’s out before they even get there — julia’s pattern recognition and historical knowledge made her pretty useful when it comes to planning capers so it meant that she’s always travelling around the world ahead of each caper, but would also make her a pretty invaluable asset to vile, so they can’t afford to get her caught

julia doesnt hear about black sheep nearly messing up morocco until much later, and even then, she doesn’t have all the info

all she can do is wonder why the hell the faculty would fail someone who somehow managed to sneak out of vile island without anyone realising until much later

and yes, maybe a part of her misses her old partner, but she knows that it wouldn’t matter anyway — she was the mole, and she’d barely get to work directly with carmen so.

but then cut to a year later, when a vile counterfeit operation in boston is suddenly sabotaged

cut to the moment when, julia, despite not having seen her in a year, is still able to somehow recognise black sheep’s work

its Slick. its the Slickness that tips her off, and part of her is reluctant to tell the faculty who it is, but her allegiance demands it and she tells the faculty and she hates herself for it when she sees the murderous rage on each of their faces

and somehow, that — her ability to recognise this carmen sandiego — gets her in a new position, as a mole in interpol, passing on the information they get as they try to track the scarlet super thief as well

and then one day, in poitiers, julia sees her

its black sheep. it’s undeniably black sheep under that red trench coat and julia wants to go and talk to her capture her and bring her in to vile but her new partner ~chase devineaux~ is everything that once made her turn away from her interest in law enforcement and he orders her to call for backup while he tries to stroke his own ego

she does, of course, but maybe she delays it a bit, if only because she’d rather let carmen sandiego get away than have devineaux’s ego get any bigger

and the rest of the season goes much the same except after julia ends up in acme, she reports to vile about everything that’s going on, and they no longer suspect devineaux of helping carmen etc etc

and she can’t help but somewhat sympathise with what carmen’s doing — she’s returning invaluable historical artefacts and julia’s always loved history and- it’s just… altruistic. and that’s admirable. and that’s the only reason i feel so torn about helping vile. that’s it, that’s the only reason.

and then comes the chasing paper caper

what was originally the first real conversation between julia and carmen goes completely differently

(note that most vile operative outside of jules’ graduating class do not know of her existence bc she barely interacts with most of them since she’s more a spy/mole who’s out of the picture by the time anyone else gets on the scene)

carmen still needs to be able to spy on paper star without anyone noticing, so she still goes for the seat right in front of the cute short-haired girl sitting alo- and oh my god jules?

and its the first time julia has heard that nickname in over a year and oh God they were just friends this should Not hit this hard what the Heck

and carmen still sits down and just quietly grills her as to what the hell is going on bc she Knows that jules is a always a mole and never an active part of a caper and she doesn’t?? understand??

and jules is kind of in a daze, but she’s been Trained so she feeds carmen her cover story:

she defected from vile when she saw how they were treating historical artefacts — melting down gold, selling priceless works of art to the highest bidder, etc. etc. — and that since then she’s been silently helping interpol with taking down vile ops, etc.

and it takes a bit but carmen kind of starts to believe it — she knows julia loves history with all her heart, and she’s… well, she’s never been the kind of recruit that carmen’s expected to see in vile anyway, so. it’s not out of the realm of possibility, is it, for julia to be a defector working against vile? after all, isn’t she the same?

so she starts looking around, while waiting for paper star to make a move, and she ends up noticing the briefcase in the seat next to her, and for some reason, those initials — clearly chase devineaux — make her want to scowl

“new partner?” “oh… its… well, work. work... partner” “oh.”

uhhh anyway i might actually. write this? idk don’t count on anything lmaooo.

[punkassrichie]

Just Tonight pt 1

A/N: i’ve only written like,, one fic on this blog lol but i really love It so i decided to start up again. also just wanted to say i’m aware that beverie isnt an ideal ship, but i just love it sm 😪😪 it’s got all the angst i need and want >.< but anyway feel free to send me requests? i will do any and every ship bc that’s just how much i love everyone and everything. feedback would be much appreciated! <3 also this is a college au but i wanted the first part to be kind of like a back story, like what went on during their high school years. this fic was inspired by the song Just Tonight by The Pretty Reckless. feel free to give it a listen as well to get a feel of the theme for the fic lol

Warnings: angst, mentions of underage drinking and substance abuse, mentions of underage sex, mentions of SA and abuse, abusive and toxic relationships, cheating, mentions of suicide me projecting just a lil and Bev x Richie. college au. if i missed any lmk. oh aaaaand all of the character are bi LMAO k byeeee

Summary: Beverly and Richie were the cliche best friends. Going to the same high school, joining the same clubs, hanging out at the Aladdin and arcades, applying to the same colleges, telling each other their deepest darkest secrets. Being each other’s firsts. Falling in love. And neither of them knowing about it.

It was the last day of summer, barely going into high school the first time it happened. They were getting drunk and high together, just the two of them. At the time, Bev was with Bill, and Richie was pining after Eddie. Both of them sad because Bev loved Bill with all of her being, but she never felt right with him and Richie loved Eddie, who never made it clear whether he loved him back or not. Eddie was messing with his head a little bit. Not intentionally, he just didn’t have the confidence Richie did. And he wasn’t sure what he wanted.

Richie understood. He wasn’t going to force Eddie to do anything he didn’t wanna do. And if that included Eddie not wanting to be with him then so be it.

But man, did it fucking hurt.

So they both drank themselves sick, neither of them understanding why they were the way they were. They’d talked all hours of the night, drunk laughing and crying, and making dumb jokes until they started talking about things they’d never really touched on before. He’d ask her about her abusive father and she’d ask about his neglectful parents, both of them answering any questions they had.

They started talking about how Richie was still a virgin, and how he really wanted to have sex but not with just anyone. He drunkenly confessed to saving himself for Eddie, but knowing that wouldn’t happen because he knew Eddie wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship with him. It’s like Eddie wanted nothing to do with him.

Bev saw a tear stream down his eye, and she shouldn’t have, she knew she shouldn’t have but she leaned in to kiss him, she told herself it was just to comfort him but one thing led to another and before they knew it, their clothes were off and Richie was tossing her on his bed. With Richie, it felt so wrong but more right than Bill. In Bev’s head, it made sense.

The morning after, Bev had woke up crying. She wasn’t weeping.. it was more like soft sobs. Richie woke up and asked her what was wrong. She didn’t know.

“Is it because of Bill?��� Richie asked, his face full of concern.

“No, and that’s the worst part.” She managed to squeak out between sobs. Richie just held her.

Bill was the last thing on her mind, and while she felt bad, she didn’t linger on the thought too much. She knew they wouldn’t last.

No, she just felt wrong. She always felt wrong. She liked it so much that she wanted to do it again and again and it filled her with shame. Guilt. She told herself she’d never be into it, not after her father ruined it for her. But still, she was. And she was disgusted with herself.

She finally told Richie after she couldn’t take her thoughts anymore. Richie assured her that she wasn’t wrong for feeling the way she did. That it was okay, and he had a great time. He was glad she did too.

She looked up at him, not understanding why he was so sweet to her. She didn’t deserve it, she thought.

This time it was Richie that leaned in to kiss her. She was shocked because he wasn’t drunk, and neither was she. She almost forgot that people don’t need to be drunk to have sex. She also forgot that it’s not really recommended. Eventually she melted into it. He was getting handsy and pulled back to let Bev know she can say stop at any moment and he would.

But she didn’t.

And that morning, Richie had went down on someone for the first time in his teen years, and Bev had her first real orgasm.

That’s when she became addicted to it.

-

Few years into high school, and Bev and Richie were still the best of friends. Not making things weird or “official.” Just two best friends that kiss sometimes (and sometimes that do more than kiss) and then act like it didn’t happen the next day. Almost all the time.

Before school started, Bev broke up with Bill. She knew what she wanted now and she wasn’t going to use Bill to get it. She always knew he was a sweetheart, and that he deserved better. She didn’t tell him what happened with Richie, and she made Richie promise he wouldn’t say anything either. Of course he did, but only if she did the same. She also didn’t tell Bill that she was gonna go around, chasing the high that she’d get from Richie, but with other people. He was heartbroken enough, she wanted to spare him at least some of the heartache.

Most of the time she’d just sleep with Richie. At first it was just convenient, and she trusted him, and him only. But then she realized it was because she didn’t feel comfortable with anyone else. She hadn’t realized it but she was falling for the boy. The thought would creep up in her head but she’d make it go away as fast as it appeared.

But all of that changed when Richie and Eddie started officially dating.

She wasn’t jealous, she couldn’t be. She loved him so much and was happy when he finally got to have the boy he pinned over all throughout his childhood. She knew he’d be happy.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling a little lonely though, seeing as Eddie would take up all of Richies time. Of course she had the other losers, but it wasn’t the same. They didn’t understand her like he did.

And of course she lied, she was a little jealous that someone took her best friend away. But she had to suppress it because she knew her and Richie would never work.

Richie loved Bev too, but not like he loved Eddie. She knew that. She understood. She also knew she was incapable of loving someone. Or having anyone love her for that matter. She knew he loved Eddie and Eddie only.

She only started to question it when she started to sneak into his house through his bedroom window, sophomore year of course, after yet another rough night with her father. He knew. He understood. He was there. In more ways than one. Some nights he’d just hold her. When she was shaking, when she couldn’t stop crying, and especially when she couldn’t muster the words to tell him what had happened. Other nights she would be beneath him, asking begging him to make her forget. And he would. Because he loved her and wanted to show her. But the thought of love was questionable now because if he could do that to Eddie, what would he do to her? He and Eddie had only been together a few months then.

Eventually she realized what he would do to her.

One night she had biked over to his house, covered in bruises and blood. That night it had been really bad. She went over and climbed up his window, knowing the path up the tree all too well. His window was unlocked, his bed was made and the light was on. Except Richie wasn’t there. She looked over to the bed where there were fresh, clean clothes and a towel underneath them. She knew what it meant.

It was a silent “I can’t do this anymore, but i’m still here for you.” She knew that’s what it meant because for them, words never had to be exchanged. They could speak through gestures and they would just know.

She ended up leaving and finding a quick fuck on tinder. He ended up bruising her up even more. At least he got her a room and stayed with her until they both had to go their separate ways.

-

Sophomore year had ended and summer began. Bev and Richie were more distant than ever. She knew it was bound to happen but she never prepared herself for it. But that didn’t mean she was going to steal him away from the person he loved most.

So she took matters into her own hands. Once she realized she could be in control of her body, she started to get a little out of hand. She started talking to more people at school, trying to figure out if they were into her or not. She debated going on tinder again but there were so many missing person flyers all over town and she didn’t wanna end up on one of them. Not like that anyway.

She felt more comfortable with people she kinda knew. That was until she got involved with one too many football players. When school started up again, they began their “locker room talk” and once a lot of the boys figured out they had sex with the same girl, they’d tell everyone and label her a slut. Bev ended up being one of those girls. It got around school and even back to the cheerleaders which some of them had experimented with Bev that same summer too. Of course, they’d never say anything about it, mostly because they weren’t sure about their sexualities, but that didn’t stop them from bullying her either. Including Greta.

Greta Keene was the main one that ended up torturing Bev. Which was sad really, considering all the nights they had together. It was almost like Bev had found her replacement. She just forgot how cruel people can be.

She was forgetting a lot of things. Once the rumors were spread, some true, most of them not true- she forgot that she had friends she could trust and talk to and tell them what had happened. But she was scared mostly. She knew the losers didn’t believe the rumors anyway but she also knew that a part of them wondered.

So she distanced herself. First time with Richie, second time with the whole club. It wasn’t intentional, but she knew that if she kept up her actions, they’d be concerned. Or they would leave. And you can’t be left unless you leave first, right?

Bev felt like her life was in the gutter. That nothing mattered and nothing was real. She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care about anything. Not about the rumors at school, not about the people taunting her and calling her a slut every 5 minutes, and not Richie. Definitely not Richie.

She still did what she thought was best for her, and if that meant drugs too, then drugs it was.

She wasn’t into anything hardcore, but she loved downers. She loved the fact that she could take a pill and it would make her numb and forget the events of that day, or the one before, or even after.

She changed. And everyone noticed.

The losers grew concerned. They’d see her walking down the halls, hair looking shaggy with baggy clothes (because anything she wore that was her size would get her called a ‘slut’ much more than it does when she wears clothes that isn’t), big shoes and sometimes when she would things her size, they could see the bruises on her arms, the cuts and scrapes on her knees and elbows, the hand shaped marks on her throat. She’d stretch and while her shirt rode up a little on her waist, you could marks on her hips too.

They were scared for her, and they knew something was up. They loved and care for Beverly so they weren’t going to let her go that easy.

One day, Bev skips out on school and all the losers noticed. It was weird, no matter how much she got bullied or beat (by Greta and her bitch clique and sometimes the Bowers gang), she’d never miss a day.

That’s when they all decided at lunch to skip their last three periods to spend it looking for her. They checked her house first, her dad telling them to fuck off and leave her alone, and if she went out and got herself killed then that was her own damn business. It made their blood boil, it made Richie wanna sock him right there and then. But Bill being Bill, just said thank you and walked off. Made Richie wanna sock him too.

They went to the barrens, quarry, clubhouse, everywhere and she was nowhere to be found. They headed back to school, heads hanging low in defeat, worried about her. They didn’t know what else to do but wait until her dad decided to file a missing person report.

The last bell rang and they all headed home, Bill told the rest of the losers that he would try to come up a plan to see what more they could do to try and find her. He didn’t wanna give up, although the rest of the losers already had.

Richie was walking Eddie home when he cried to him and told him that he shouldn’t have pushed her away the way he did, and that it was all his fault. Eddie just held him, not understanding the relationship the two had. He told him that everything would be okay anyway and that they would find her. Richie just nodded and continued to walk him home.

Eddie offered him to spend the night with him, like he had been doing all year but this time Richie politely declined. He doesn’t know why but something was telling him to go home. Go home and check.

He doesn’t tell Eddie, just tells him he might be coming down with something and that’s enough to make the hypochondriac stay away. For that night at least.

Richie kisses him goodbye and heads on home. And sure enough, there she was. Sitting in his steps, fumbling with something in her hands and mumbling to herself.

He throws his bike to the side and rushes over to her, asking her if she was okay or hurt. She just laughed.

She reeked of alcohol and had a small brown pill bottle in her hands. It was empty.

He kept asking her questions and grew more concerned when he see that her eye had been swollen shut. She was crying, but laughing at any question Richie had.

She was fucked up, it wasn’t hard to tell. Richie didn’t ask anymore questions and just helped her up. She refused but he still managed to get her up. While he helped her up the stairs and into his room, he asked her what she was on. She didn’t respond. He was growing frustrated but settled for asking her when she was sober. He helped her get cleaned up, and saw to her eye when she got out of the shower. He didn’t know much about first aid, but he knew what Eddie taught him.

She stopped crying and she was just silent, her eyes fluttering like she couldn’t keep them open anymore. When he was done, Richie set her down on his bed and held her while she slept. “Love you, Richie.” was the last thing she murmured before falling into a deep sleep.

Of course it hurt him, and of course he blamed himself. She needed him and he dropped her like she meant nothing to him. But it wasn’t like that. Now he wishes they could’ve just talked. If he hasn’t been so caught up with Eddie, maybe they could have.

It was 7pm the next day when she woke up. She seemed very confused, and was surprised when Richie was beside her, talking to Eddie on the phone. He wrapped up the call once he saw that she was awake, he had questions and he was going to get them. He was determined. He hung up and just sighed when he saw the state she was in.

“Bev, you’ve gotta tell me what’s been going on with you.” He says with a soft tone as he sits on his bed, facing her. She can barely look at him, feeling anxious and embarrassed. But she knows she can trust him.

“I-I havent been doing very well lately.” Is all she can manage to say. Then she starts to cry again. And just like he would before, he held her. He calmed her down and waited until she was ready to talk.

And when she was, she confided in him. She told him everything, how she’s been sleeping around to get by, how she found a specific drug that helped her sleep through the nights her dad wouldn’t let her, how some of the rumors at school were true, and how much she missed him and the rest of the losers. She told him that she didn’t wanna leave them the way she did, but she didn’t want them to leave first when they found out about her.

When she was done pouring her heart out, he just looked at her and hugged her. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He whispered as he wrapped his arms around her. She was still for a second, but then wrapped her own arms around him.

And they remained in their position for a while. They didn’t talk about their little ‘situation’ they had gotten themselves into, nor did they want to. They hardly ever did. They just sat in silence for comfort.

After that months flew by once again, and things felt normal again. Bev got used to the bullying and harassment from her classmates but she didn’t have to deal with it alone anymore. The losers club made them back off actually, defending Bev until it got them suspended.

They didn’t care though, they wanted to show Bev they actually care about her and that she’s not alone. She learned to appreciate them more than she already did.

They started having more sleepovers than usual so that Bev wouldn’t have to stay at her dad’s so much, and they started calling her and checking up on her.

Richie was always making sure she was okay and telling her to text him whenever she got home or if she was going anywhere and back. Just to keep tabs, making sure she’s alright.

They didn’t sleep together anymore, and neither of them minded. At least that’s what they told themselves. Bev had a few fuck buddies since Richie, one of them being Greta.

“Why the fuck would you still be fucking her?” Richie exclaimed after Bev confessed that she was still fooling around with her despite being harassed by her and her clique.

She just shrugged. She couldn’t tell him it was because she couldn’t fuck him anymore, she didn’t want to pin anything on him. And she couldn’t tell him that she kind of liked the abuse.

Bev had all sorts of kinks that she wasn’t ready to talk about with just anyone, and she knows she could trust Richie, but she still feels a bit embarrassed and ashamed.

Before they knew it was summer again, and that was the first time they were all together again in a long time. Her friends changed and she didn’t even realize it. But so did she. She found comfort in knowing that they would accept her no matter what. And that she would too.

-

Senior year was the best year for the losers, but as well as the worst. They called it their Slack Off year. They had done so much work the years before just to be able to call it that. They’d have 3 classes the whole day and the rest were free periods. Their work really paid off. And it was so much better knowing they were all going to be at the same college. It would be an understatement to say they were excited for next fall. It was until someone new had come into the picture and changed everything.

Her name was Criss. She was new to Derry High. To the town in general.

Beverly swore she loved her. And she swore Criss loved her back. And how they came to be were the losers’ guess but they were happy for her nonetheless. Things with them were great at first. Bev finally seemed happy to have someone by her side at all times, happy to be lovey dovey with, and just happy in general. Beverly was in love to say the least.

The rest of the losers were obviously happy for her, but if anyone had asked Richie what he thought about Criss, he wouldn’t say what he was really thinking. He avoided the question if he could.

But then they started to notice the red flags in Criss, and they weren’t so sure about her. They’d notice when she’d lie about little things, the way she’d grip Bev’s arm when she was mad, the insults she’d scream at Bev whenever they were in a fight, the scenes she’d make when things just wouldn’t go her way. One time Bev showed up at the quarry with a freshly split lip, and they knew it wasn’t her father because she wouldn’t stay at her house anymore. They hated it, and they knew Bev hated it too.

Except Bev didn’t hate it- that much, because Criss wasn’t that bad. She’d ignore the losers when they expressed their concerns for her because she knew who she was deep down. Most importantly she was loved. That feeling alone was enough to make her fly high into the sky. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. She only hated the fact that she fell for a person who ended up not being what they said they were. But she convinced herself it was okay, and that she would be able to handle her. She loved her, and if that meant putting up with mild bruises and screaming matches, then so be it. She was just happy that someone loved her.

It wasn’t until Beverly caught her with Greta in her bed, that she knew it was too good to be true. That was the first time she felt her heart shatter. She didn’t go to the losers when she first saw them together, she went on a walk all by herself and not because she felt stupid, (oh but she definitely did) but because if she didn’t, she was convinced she might’ve offed herself. Sometimes she wishes she did. And all the shame, guilt, and embarrassment had returned. She didn’t believe in anything at all anymore.

-

dont be a stranger and lmk what u think <333 part two will be out soon!

[barnesandrogersfanfics]

That Damn Sex Pollen - Part 2

Pairing : Steve x Reader / Bucky x Reader

Words: 1800+

Warnings: Mild smut / swearing... nothing too bad!

A/N: Found part 2 in my drafts so here it is! There will be a final part to follow.

It had been just over 2 weeks since the Sex Pollen incident with Bucky, the incident that led to us having mind blowing sex and confessing to feelings we'd been hiding for a while. This wouldn't have been a problem if i wasn't already engaged to his best friend Steve Rogers!! Aka Captain America!!

Now don't get me wrong i love Steve, i love Steve more than I've ever loved anyone.... but i cant deny that i don't love Bucky as well! Since the moment Steve introduced me to his long lost best friend there was something between us, we had never admitted to our feelings or acted on them in anyway we kept it to ourselves. I had decided to push my feelings for Bucky aside and give Steve my everything.....That was until that damn sex pollen!!

Bucky volunteered to go on a mission with Sam and Nat the day after we got back to the compound and had been avoiding me ever since they got back a week ago, he would even leave the room as soon as i walked in!

Steve was currently in a meeting with Tony so i headed down to the gym hoping id see Bucky and we could talk about what happened and try and clear the air, if he kept avoiding me the way he was then Steve would get suspicious!

I walked into the gym and saw Bucky lifting weights  in the corner, i also saw the second he noticed me enter the room!! The weights were dropped and he started grabbing his things to leave.

"Bucky will you stop!" I said rushing over to him "you cant keep running away from me!"

"I just think its best to put some distance between us Y/N" he mumbled still avoiding eye contact.

"So you don't think we should talk about what happened in that warehouse?"

"No. No i don't! I think we need to forget all about that!"

"Fine! It never happened! But you need to get your shit together Buck! If you keep leaving every room i walk into Steve will know somethings wrong! You and me always got along before.... you were always hanging out with us and now? This is the first time I've spoken to you in 2 weeks!"

"I cant sit around and watch you and Steve together okay! It hurts too much.... I'm trying doll, i really am. I just need some time and space"

"Buck...."

"Don't" he said simply shaking his head keeping his distance from me.

"Okay..... i miss you" i told him truthfully as i backed away towards the door, Bucky gave me the smallest smile and nodded in agreement.

I was sitting on the sofa watching a movie when Steve walked in a couple hours later.

"Hey sweetheart" he smiled leaning over the arm of the sofa and pressing his lips to mine.

"Hey babe, how'd your meeting go?" I asked grabbing his hand and pulling him down on the sofa with me. He chuckled but quickly settled down and pulled me into his arms.

"It was okay, just going over some details of tomorrows mission"

"Who's going?"

"Me, Buck, Wanda and Vision"

"I get the day off! Woo hoo" i joked as my hand moved under the hem of Steve's tshirt, my fingers stroking over the smooth patch of skin under his belly button.

"You fancy going for a run with me?" He asked as i felt his fingers stroke the back of my neck.

"Not at all" i laughed "i just wanna stay here with you and watch a movie"

"You keep that up we're gonna be doing more than watching a movie" he mumbled looking down at where my hand was still stroking.

"Oh really?.... you like this huh?"

"Y/N...." Steve said before shaking his head chuckling.

"What?..... i like your happy trail"

"You do?"

"Mmhmmm...." my hand slowly stroked over the area again before slipping into the band of his sweat pants and finding his already hard cock "you do like that!" I teased as my hand wrapped around him and slowly started stroking.

"Jesus..... baby that feels amazing" he said as his head fell back against the sofa.

"See, isnt this better than going for a run?"

"Im not gonna argue with that!" He laughed before pulling me closer and kissing me hard. I quickly found myself straddling Steve, dry humping the huge bulge in his trousers as we made out like teenagers. I pulled his t-shirt off and trailed kisses up his chest to his neck... biting at that area where his neck and shoulder joined. Steve had one hand under my shirt fondling a breast whilst the other gripped my hip and rocked me against his hard cock.

"I need to be inside you" he mumbled in my ear before nipping at my earlobe.

"Please Steve...." i begged reaching into his sweat pants to free his cock.

There was a quick knock at the front door to our apartment before it opened

"Hey Steve, you ready...." Bucky was saying as he walked through the door.

"Oh shit!.... im sorry!" He said quickly turning to leave.

"Fuck!....Sorry pal i completely forgot, i got a little distracted" Steve chuckled "can we finish this later?" He said quietly to me and i nodded before climbing off his lap and heading to the bedroom.

"Its fine, we can go tomorrow" Bucky shrugged looking very uncomfortable.

"No lets go" Steve said standing up and grabbing his shirt from the floor.

"You might want to change your pants...." i heard Bucky say and turned to see him scratching his head awkwardly. Steve looked down to see the wet patch from where we had been grinding against each other moments before and blushed "oh shit, guess you're right. Give me 5".

After finishing a training session with Nat i headed back to mine and Steve's room for a shower. When i walked in i was surprised to see Steve's go bag next to the door, the shower running.... they got back early from that mission.

"Steve?" I called out as i made my way to the bathroom.

"Hey sweetheart" i heard him call over the running water.

"You're back early, did something go wrong or...."

"It went fine, easy mission"

"Thats good. You mind if i join you? I just got done training with Nat I'm a mess" i said stripping out of my sweaty work out clothes and tossing them in the dirty wash basket.

"Its all yours" he said stepping out and grabbing his towel "I've got to go to a debrief with Tony real quick but I'm all yours after. We have some catching up to do"

"Mmm i look forward to it" i smiled reaching up to give him a much needed kiss, i had missed him so much while he was gone. Before getting into the shower  I placed a pair of sleep shorts and a cami on the closed lid of the toilet ready to put on once i was done.

Steve went to get dressed while i showered, i was rinsing out my shampoo when he stuck his head in letting me know he was leaving for his debrief.

"Be back soon, love you" he said before rushing off.

When i was finished i stepped out the shower reaching for my towel to find it was gone!

"Are you fucking kidding me!" I moaned under my breath, the clothes i had set out were also missing! WTF!!

Oh well it wasnt like i couldnt walk around naked, id just have to make a dash for another towel!

I threw open the bathroom door and was just walking to the bedroom when the front door opened.

"Steve you ass! You took my towel and my clothes??"

"Ermmm...i..."

My head whipped round at the sound of Bucky's voice!!

"Bucky!? Shit! God I'm so sorry i thought you were Steve!" I quickly tried to cover myself as i rushed into my room and grabbed my robe, once it was secured i went back to see why Bucky was here.

"What are you doing here?"

"Steve asked me to cone grab a file he forgot..."

"He did? When?"

"Called me just now as i was heading down to the debrief"

"Why would he tell you to come in here.... he knew i was showering and he'd taken my clothes...."

"I have no idea, can i just grab that file and i'll be on my way..."

"Sure".

I sat down on the sofa rubbing my wet hair with a towel while Bucky disappeared into Steve's office for what he needed.

"Hey doll?...." he called from the office.

I smiled at the familiar nickname i hadn't heard in weeks.

"Yeah Buck?"

"There's no files in here"

"You're sure?..."

"Yeah, where else would he keep them?"

"Thats where it would be"

"There's no file in there" i heard Steve's voice and turned to see him leaning against the front door smirking.

"Steve.... what the fuck?"

"Im sick of this tension between the two of you, i miss us all hanging out together"

"So you take my clothes and send your pal here for a non existent file in hope's he catches me naked??! Are you mad?" I shouted shaking my head at him.

"You set us up?" Bucky asked appearing in the hallway.

"Guilty" Steve shrugged "enjoy the show Buck?"

"I don't get it.... why....?"

"Because I'm sick of you both pretending theres no feelings between you"

"He's lost his damn mind" i got up to walk away but Steve grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me close.

"I know what happened in that warehouse between the two of you"

My eyes went wide as i looked over at Bucky, he looked just as shocked so i knew he hadn't told him.

"Bucky didn't say a word sweetheart i saw the CCTV..... audio included" he smirked.

"Steve.... it wasn't like we had much choice that plant...."

"Oh i know baby, i know exactly what that plant was"

"You've known all this time and said nothing?"

"It was you, you put it there didn't you?" Bucky accused Steve "why the fuck would you do that Steve!?"

"I had to do something! The two of you are so loyal you never would've hurt me and acted on your feelings.... not without a little push".

Before i knew what i was doing my hand connected with Steve's cheek.

"You had no right!"

"Tell me you don't want him" Steve pointed at his best friend.

"No"

"See...." Steve smirked looking smug.

"Right now you're the one i don't want!" I said through gritted teeth and stormed into the bedroom slamming the door behind me and flipping the lock for effect, i knew it wouldn't keep Steve out but it made me feel better.

Everything taglist: @jesseswartzwelder @dumblani @barnesandrogersworld @patzammit @rynabarnesrogers-reading @rainbowkisses31 @rororo06 @supernaturalwintersoldier @fairlightswiftly @hiddelstannerbarnes @bellamy-barnes @buchanansebba @rosalynshields @turtoix @dottirose

[double-daredevil]

folklore ; chapter one

din djarin x reader (no y/n)

words: 6.2k

rating: T for swearing i guess. its a slow burn there isnt anything sexii yet lol

themes: slow burn (like y’all its so SLOW lol), eventual angst, no Y/N, eventual smut, eventual EVERYTHING this is like the establishing shot of a movie its gonna be a FIC lmfao. dont get attached the end is already planned.

notes: set before the tv series. canon doesn’t exist anymore. i make the rules here pals. yes it is named after the tswift album so that gives you some fuckin HINTS 

--

Accident.

Pretty much everything that happened to you happened by accident, but you weren't one to complain. Without much control over your life for your adolescent years, seeing as you were raised as an Imperial trooper and just followed orders, you happily let yourself float along in life whichever way the forces led you. 

That doesn't mean you don't have, say, a moral guideline.

It's difficult to explain to people once they get to know you better and eventually squeeze out of you that yes, you were trained Imperial. Details are not awarded to most people, in fact— you’re not sure anyone except one of your commanding officers in the rebellion knew that you were a clone. 

You have spent countless hours trying to transition from regret to simply shame. After all, how is it your fault you did what you were told? If you didn’t, you would have been executed. Tossed to the trash like a faulty toy. The greatest decision in your life was the first decision you, personally, got to make— to run. It took you a few years to plan the scheme, but you defected successfully. Your moral issues were simply too strong to subvert, and you had to leave. So you did. That's all. You don't like to talk about it much.

After you mustered up some vengeance by joining the rebellion, you had to find a living once the major fighting died down for a while. With your particular skills— too deadly to be a simple security guard, or any occupation that doesn't involve tactical warfare, you settled on hoarding money through bounties. Not quite professed in the field of bounty hunting, you would latch on to more experienced hunters and offer to split rewards 20-80 for your help. The meager money filled your pocket enough for food and lodging while you learned the ways of the trade and, subsequently, your new way of life.

That's how you met your first Mandalorian. 

A mutual acquaintance from the Guild had a heavy quarry, a difficult one that he had trouble passing off. Too complex and detailed for just you, your acquaintance told you that when he found a suitable hunter to take the lead, he'd hail you to tag along. A week after the quarry was first put on the table, a renowned bounty hunter— this Mandalorian, rolled into town to collect the tracking fob. Part of the agreement was to take you along. The Mandalorian agreed. A brief encounter mediated by your mutual acquaintance and you were following the beskar-clad hunter to his ship, which you’ve come to know as the Razor Crest. A dingy, huge hunk of metal that could use a good list of upgrades, but you quickly grew accustomed to the flying garbage can. 

And somehow, after that singular bounty hunt, where you actually got to assist in the capture and the shoving of the unruly quarry into the carbonite, Mando offered you constant refuge aboard his ship in return for some pay and help on his harder bounties. That conversation, so far, has been the longest exchange of words between you and him, and it only lasted maybe five minutes. That’s all. You’re not one that aches for human interaction, having been commanded all your life by others, so you almost welcome the silence.

Almost.

—

Officially, you have been a part of Mando’s crew for nearing six months.

You hear metal clanging against metal, and you glance over your shoulder to see him climbing down from the cockpit. “Are we headed to the next quarry?” You ask.

“Yes,” comes through the vocoder. “Carajam.”

“Oh lovely,” you say, voice dripping with sarcasm as you focus on polishing the trigger of the blaster in your hands. “Another desert planet in the Outer Rim.”

“Our favorite,” Mando deadpans as he walks over, sitting across from you at the janky table. 

Once you were an official employee of his, you spent your first few payday collections on your own blasters. In all honesty, weapons never made you nervous, as you grew up in a space station that was literally just a giant weapon, but owning your own seemed… different. Blasters are weapons made just to kill, and you are allowed to have that power again. But, anyway, most of your money goes to savings so you can buy a house to retire to one day. One day. 

The Mandalorian rolls his shoulders back to adjust his cape out of the way of his hands as he starts to dismantle the blaster that’s usually holstered at his hip. Piece by piece, he sets his blaster on the table like a new jigsaw puzzle, and you’ve just finished polishing the little blaster you’ve decided to keep stashed in your boot.

“How long until we arrive?” You ask.

His visor is focused downwards, at the metal pieces on the table, his right gloved hand hovering over the pieces like an excited child in a candy shop trying to pick his favorite one. “Not long,” he replies, picking up the barrel and beginning to wipe it clean with a cloth. “We will arrive once it becomes night on the planet. Cooler temps.”

You nod, letting out an appreciative sigh. That meant you had a night’s rest before the hunt began. As he finished up with the barrel of his blaster, you removed your longer, daily use blaster and began dismantling. You two stay like that, at a dimly lit table cleaning the blasters, until the ship notified that it was about to drop out of hyperdrive. 

Mando quickly reassembled his blaster, slipping the completed gun back into its holster as he stood and hustles over to the cockpit. Following suit, you dusted off any last specs of dirt on yours and planted your feet firmly against the floor, as the ship dropped out of its easy glide through the stars and into the gravity pull of Carajam. The Razor Crest isn’t the smoothest rig, but you’re still very appreciative. And, you like to think you have good balance, so it’s not a hard task to stay stable.

You want to say that Mando is a good pilot, and you really think he is, but you can’t help but miss the sheer amount of credits that the Empire was able to spend on simple luxuries to make their lives easier, like enhanced stabilization in and out of hyperdrive, cleaner hyperdrives, even, and— 

The Razor Crest lands and you shake those dark thoughts out of your head, reassembling your blaster but with clearly less finesse than Mando. Stars, are weapons actually part of his religion, or was that a joke as well? It’s quite the challenge to pick up on the subtleties of somebody who wears intense armor literally every waking moment, but you’ve grown accustomed (more or less) to the separate circles of things that Mando talks about. Those circles are: one, things he says and means, two, things he says as a joke, and three, the gray, shadowy area where those two circles meet and you’re still deciphering what brief conversations and quick remarks belong there. 

As the ship starts to rest, expelling various airs and sighs itself as the sheer weight settles on the landing gear, you clear off the table and slip your smaller blaster back into your boot, and your other into your holster that’s banded to your right thigh. The Mandalorian comes down the cockpit ladder soon enough and goes to stand at the main ship door. You hop up from your seat and stand next to him, as he punches something into the control pad on the archway and the large door hisses and starts to lower. The first glimpse of the planet you get is the peak of the spectacular night sky, and eventually the ramp meets the sand on the ground and you see it all. Mando struts down the ramp to go and meet the landing dock manager and pay for the spot here in this spaceport Danan Karr, but you wait aboard still, leaning against the open doorway and gazing out into the night. Planets are always easier for you at night, as they were calmer— at least, those that don’t have an avid nightlife. A few that you and Mando have stopped at have been busier in the dark hours than the light, but it was always fitting. 

The breeze of the desert planet comes sifting around you, caressing your cheeks with warm air and particles of sand, but you don’t mind. Raised in space, you have an affinity for the ground and real, non-recycled air. Although it’s never any trouble for you to stay inside a ship for however long, there is always something alluring about fresh air. Plus, this planet in the Outer Rim isn’t exactly prime vacationing, so there is nearly no light pollution. It was almost hard to wrench your eyes away from the bright stars speckling the dark blanket of the sky. 

You almost don’t notice when Mando comes walking back up the ramp, too busy basking in the breeze to notice the beskar-clad hunter. He stands at the top of the ramp, slightly in front of you, for a good few seconds as you look straight over his head.

“Hey,” he calls for your attention, and you look down at his face. Or, well, the specific area in the T of his visor where you’re pretty sure his eyes are. He tilts his helmet to the side and you know he’s begun to worry about you.

So you flash him a smile. “I just love the air here,” you say, and turn around to step back inside the ship. Mando walks the rest of the way up the ramp and inside, pressing a button to raise the ramp.

“Rest tonight,” he starts. “Tomorrow we go on the hunt.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, going back to sit at the janky table to clean one more blaster before retreating to your bunk.

The Mandalorian sits at the table as well, after having taken his ambam rifle out of storage for a quick clean. In silence you two work on your respective blasters, caring for them as they are just as important to the job as the tracking fob. Perhaps an hour or so went by, and as you were putting your blaster back together piece by piece, the comfortable silence was broken. But this time— not by you.

“What did you say about the air?”

You look up from your blaster and see that Mando isn’t looking at you, but still at his rifle. The fact that he’s trying to start casual conversation accidentally makes a smile appear on your face. You quickly look back down at your blaster, but your smile still remains.

“I said that I loved it,” you reply. “Because the air here is very fresh. Even though there’s like, no trees, there’s almost no people. No pollution.”

He hums in understanding and continues cleaning. 

Back to the comfortable silence. 

—

The Razor Crest looks large from the outside, but it’s pretty cramped inside. The majority of its bulk is for it’s engines and practical components— hyperdrive, fuel tanks, cooling systems and whatnot. It was once a gunship, and that fact does put you on edge. Ships like this used to transport troops and drop them in combat. So, there is a large portion of the ship’s cargo bay that remains unused, as Mando doesn’t usually transport large quarries. The living space, or at least that’s what you’ve called it in your head, consists of an open area with a small but sturdy table, a few stools to sit on, and various crates that contain meal rations and tools and various trinkets. You’re almost one hundred percent sure that this ship was never meant to be lived in. You estimate that maybe four or five people could stay on the ship before everyone felt claustrophobic. 

There used to be only one cot hidden in the walls, you’d knocked against one of the panels and the door would swoosh away, revealing a simple bed and just enough room to roll around to attempt to be comfortable. The night after the first bounty you helped Mando with, he let you sleep some in the hidden nook as he piloted you two back to Nevarro. While you were standing outside the ramp and helping unload bounties, the Mandalorian inquired whether or not you would want to join him on future bounties. With an assurance that you would get your own cot, you obliged. 

—

The bounty that you two are hunting on Carajam, the lovely desert planet, is hiding somewhere in the caves and cliffs a few klicks east of the space port that you are staying in. From the info you’ve picked up talking with a few locals, the quarry likes to hide in the sand caves because he has no friends. Well, actually it’s because he’s murdered about a person per household out of everyone who still lives on the desert planet. You thank the locals for their information with a few credits and a jug of desirable water.

You make your way to the only cantina on the planet, and by cantina you mean what is quite literally a bar top and six stools outside the shop of a local mechanic. The Mandalorian is sitting, waiting, on the last stool, facing the expanse of the desert that is a mere fifty feet from the edge of the little star port. You swiftly occupy the stool next to him.

“So,” you start, and he swivels in his stool to face you. You brace your elbows on the table. “About seven klicks east towards the main expanse of cliffs, and then about two more klicks north to the caves. One of the caves will look obviously occupied, trash and debris and whatnot. That’s what I’ve gathered.”

“Good work,” comes through the vocoder. “Are you ready to head out?”

“Yes, sir,” you smile, adjusting the straps of the small backpack you have. “After your lead.”

He swivels again and hops off his stool, and waits a moment until he hears you following him before beelining to the edge of town. You follow, obedient, as he weaves through the sparse crowd to another shop, lined with speederbikes and a few larger landcrafts. The Mandalorian walks up to the shop owner and exchanges a few words, and a few credits, and then moves to two of the speederbikes. 

“You know how to ride?” He asks you, as you stand beside one and he the other. 

“Yes, actually,” you say, always having a soft spot for fast land vehicles. You briefly wonder that, if you had said no, would he have made you sit behind him on one bike? The thought makes you smile, bashful, and you wait until he mounts his bike before climbing onto yours.

“Seven klicks east,” Mando says, repeating your earlier words and firing up his bike.

You turn yours on as well, and grab a pair of goggles from your backpack. You pull up the bandana you keep around your neck to cover your mouth, and then put on the goggles. You give a thumbs up to Mando, who was glancing over his shoulder to wait for your cue.

And then he zooms off. And you diligently follow.

— 

You two reach the caves in a quick hour, specifically saving some hours of daylight just in case this job takes a turn. The two of you park your speederbikes about half a klick downwind of the cave, just in case. You keep your goggles on and bandana over your mouth, as the wind out here doesn’t seem to want to settle. Dust and sand weave around your feet like a clingy pet as you scale the short cliffside after your Mandalorian, following him quickly toward the cave. 

You hover around the mouth of the cave as Mando stalks in, somehow still quiet despite his sturdy boots against the rock. To see down inside was near impossible, even as you took off your goggles. You hear some sort of scuffle, a few clatters, and then Mando is shoving a handcuffed quarry your direction. You reach up and steady the quarry, your hands on the man’s shoulders. Stars, he was a large man, so you assume that Mando only managed to shackle him due to surprise. 

“Let go of me, you kriffing bitch,” the quarry seethes at you and aggressively shrugs his shoulders to loosen your grip. Mando takes a step towards him, you imagine he’s reacting to the derogatory term thrown your way, but you beat him to it— 

You release your grip on the quarry, and while he’s stunned for a moment from it, you kick his foot out from underneath him. He falls hard on his ass and plops to the side, unable to stifle his fall due to being cuffed. With a slight smile, you watch him struggle on the ground.

“F-fuckin’ bitch,” he groans out, trying to roll over to a kneeling position. Once he manages that, Mando comes and grips the man’s shirt— lifting him inches off of the ground towards his helmet. 

“Watch your mouth.”

And then Mando drops him. 

The quarry gasps at the contact back on the ground and groans, almost falling over again. You go up behind him and grab the cuffs, wrenching him upwards and forcing him to stand. You grip the cuffs tightly in your left hand, and hold your blaster to the quarry’s back with your right.

“Let’s go, then,” you say. 

The Mandalorian leads the way back towards the speeders.

—

After tying up the quarry to transport him on the back of Mando’s speederbike, you settle nicely back inside the Razor Crest. Mando already froze the quarry after he wouldn’t stop blubbering about how sorry he was for mindlessly murdering the people in port— he couldn’t help himself, apparently. 

“Nobody is born a killer,” the Mandalorian tells the quarry before freezing him.

You avert your gaze away from him once the carbonite process is finished, allowing him to believe he had privacy with the quarry during their discussion. You had tucked yourself around a corner to avoid letting him know you like listening to the Mandalorian’s stern and assertive remarks to unruly quarries. You take mental notes on the way he talks, mostly to figure out what he believes in. A Mandalorian follows a creed, and your Mandalorian hasn’t mentioned a single thing about it since you’ve met him. By now, after half a cycle, you’ve figured out the basics. And the bottom line is that Mando is generally a good guy— a moral guy, you guess. Kind of like a vigilante who upholds his own justice, but a good guy nonetheless. If Mandalorians picked sides besides their own people, you think he would’ve joined the rebellion. 

“I’ve set us on course back to Nevarro,” you offer as Mando walks back through to the main area of the ship and raises the ramp. You lean against the metal wall in one corner, watching him fulfil his routine.

“Good,” he says, appreciative in his own way that you know that he likes to be constantly on the move. “What’s the ETA?”

“Only a few hours,” you say, pushing yourself off of the wall and going to the ladder to the cockpit. The ramp closes as you grab the rungs, looking back to Mando as he shadows you at the ladder. “You should get some rest before we arrive,” you offer.

He’s silent a moment while you face back to the ladder and start ascending. You hear him mutter a ‘okay, thank you,’ through his helmet before you climb your way fully into the cockpit. Once you’ve ascended, you don’t hesitate to go and sit in the pilot’s chair. Although you’re not the best pilot, favoring studying combat and languages instead of flight and mechanics, you manage. 

You settle in the seat and grab the flight controls, and hear Mando stepping onto the floor of the cockpit. You flick up a few switches and start the ship, letting her rumble to life while you look back over your shoulder at your Mandalorian.

“Sleep well,” you say with a hint of a smile.

He gives you a nod, hesitates, and then opens the door on the wall behind the cockpit, leading to the captain’s quarters. Once you hear his door swoosh close after his retreating footsteps, you let out a breath and encourage yourself, grabbing tightly onto the handles. 

Just get it into the sky, and the autopilot gets you there, you tell yourself, forcing the Razor Crest into the air. She succeeds in ascending, and you raise the landing gear and disarm any land security protocols. Following a mental list, you do exactly as you’ve seen Mando, and get the ship into space in no time. A little shaky, sure, but you don’t think it was enough to stir the captain out of bed.

—

One cycle.

You two take a brief break. There aren’t any bounties worthy of your time, anyway.

The smoke crawls up your wrist, wrapping around your forearm before dissipating into the air. You hold the ornate stem of the smoking pipe to your lips, inhaling shallowly, and let your arm drop as you try to breathe the smoke in deeper. A heavy sigh and the smoke passes back out of your lungs, past your lips, forming a cloud in front of your face. You wait, still holding the pipe, and look expectantly at your hosts.

Upon landing on this planet, at what seems to be the only one semi-decent town, the Razor Crest was surrounded by the inhabitants. Seemingly human-esque, you and the Mandalorian walked out of the ship with no weapons in your hands, ready to barter for some fuel and lodging for the night. The people of the planet, through an interpreter, were more than happy to allow you to stay.

Under one condition; uphold their welcoming traditions and take a huge hit off of the pipe the dude who seemed to be the chief was eagerly thrusting towards you two. 

Startled at the proposition, and more so by the growing ruckus of the onlooking crowd the longer Mando tried to deny the offer, you grabbed the pipe. The chief smiled widely and the crowd calmed, but Mando whipped his head towards you.

“Don’t smoke that,” he said. “You have no idea what it is.”

The interpreter tried to reassure you that it was safe, it was fine, a common plant that everyone on the planet enjoys. The longer you held the pipe without smoking it, the smaller the smile of the chief was and the more and more the rest of the people stirred. Eventually, it did devolve into a shouting match between Mando, the interpreter, the chief, and a few people in the crowd who were brandishing weapons. 

So you smoked it.

You’ve smoked a few things before in your experience, not a lot. Drinking was always more your thing, knowing that once the liquid passes through you it will be gone from your system. Inhalants? You could never be sure. But you would be a bad sidekick to the Mandalorian if you didn’t sacrifice your lungs for ease of service.

After the first inhale, the chief smiled again, and gestured for you to smoke some more. Ignoring the verbal protest of Mando, you brought the pipe back up to your mouth and puffed again. A bit bigger of a hit this time.

Well, much bigger, judging by the size of the cloud you just breathed out. Surprised, you let out a chuckle, but the irritation in your throat causes your laugh to turn into a hearty cough.

And the crowd cheered.

The chief took the pipe from you and draped his arm over your shoulders, guiding you and Mando behind you into the town. It’s a little town tucked into a small clearing beside a freshwater river and a thick grove of forest, tall and green trees that seem to tower over everything— perhaps the tallest trees you think you have ever seen. On this planet, there are three suns, and they are constantly setting in succession. So, it’s never really nighttime. 

And it seems like these people take advantage of that.

As the chief leads you and your Mandalorian through the stone streets lined with dark, muddy brick houses, your head starts to get light. Like, the tension in your neck loosens and your shoulders go slack. It’s nice— well, it would be, if you didn’t quickly associate it with whatever the chief insisted you smoke. The chief’s arm was still draped over your shoulders and he excitedly explained, in his native tongue, what you assume to be a detailed history of the town. All you could do was feign a smile, probably looking a bit dumb considered you don’t know if your cheeks are numb or just used to your wide grin by now, and nod in fake understanding. The Mandalorian is exactly three and a half paces behind you.

The interpreter is walking beside Mando, re-explaining everything the chief is saying. You aren’t able to listen to both the chief and the interpreter, somehow lacking the mental capacity to focus back and forth between the two, now. The crowd of people disappeared once you smoked from the fancy pipe, save for a handful that you assume are the chief’s servants, so the little troop led by you and the chief eventually hits the end of the main street. 

The chief removes his arm from your shoulders and gives you a nice, hard slap on the back. He says something, while gesturing to a small cottage that bookends the houses lining the road. You’re too busy staring off in the distance, past the green grass that traces the treeline and river. One of the suns is setting, casting a mesmerizing red haze over the tips of the trees, painting the freshwater of the river golden. 

You hear the Mandalorian call your name, and turn to face him.

And he’s standing there, at the door of the cottage the chief is letting you two use for the night, practically glowing with how the setting sun is glinting off of his beskar. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, a second time, but you didn’t hear the first.

You cannot help the unabashed grin that swallows your face, and stumble over to the door. “Never better. Everything is great. You should’ve smoked that shit, too.”

You hear him sigh and he opens the door for you, stepping back so you can walk in first. So you meander in, hand lightly following the wall because you’re suddenly doubting your balance. You find a seat at the small table that’s placed in the middle of the room, and you still can’t stop yourself from smiling. 

The Mandalorian drops a bag at the foot of one of the cots that he must’ve gone back to the Crest to get, but you don’t remember him doing that. And then he drops your night bag at the foot of the other cot, and you wonder when he went and got your bag.

“Thanks,” you croak out, still smiley, and brace your elbows on the table. “D’you have any idea what I smoked?”

“No,” he admits, voice monotone as usual through the vocoder. He pulls out the second chair and sits across from you. The cottage, small but spacious enough for two people to not knock elbows, was alight with soft sunshine filtering in through the numerous windows. Who needs light on a planet that is constantly day?

“How do you feel?” He asks, visor intent on staring you down. 

“Spectacular,” you reply, staring back at the visor. You used to wear a gaudy helmet when you were a trooper, so you’re pretty damn sure you know exactly where his eyes are behind that mask. 

“You look drunk.”

Your smile, instead of faltering, is drawn a little wider and your elbows slip forward on the table until your chest is pressed up against the wood, your chin almost touching the tabletop but your cheeks are squished by your hands, keeping your head up. “I feel like it, too. But, different at the same time, y’know?” 

“No, I don’t know,” the Mandalorian says as he leans back in his chair. His hands are flat against his thighs, and you’re 99% sure he is simply watching you. Out of worry or annoyance, of course you can’t tell, but you’re leaning towards annoyance.

So you tilt your head to the side, staring back, trying your fucking hardest to stifle the stupid smile on your face but you just can’t. “Want me to tell you what you’re missin’?”

Surprisingly, the Mandalorian tilts his head as well, mimicking you. “Enlighten me.”

“Have y’ever got so drunk that you just had to sit there and wait ‘til the booze gets filtered out of your system?” You start, letting your head— so heavy— fall further to the side and land on the table, a nice foundation to ground you. You’re so slumped in your chair your legs are straight, sticking out of the sides underneath the table as you stretch your arms to dangle off of the table. “And yet it’s like, the best part of bein’ sloshed is comin’ up so you don’t want to sober up and y’just— just— sit there, stewing.” 

He lets out a hum, letting you know he’s still politely listening to your ramblings.

Any thoughts in your head blur, images and words swishing around behind your eyes as you try to focus on what you were saying. “And nothin’ hurts or aches and you get to forget ‘bout everything bad you did that day and just look at the stars. Y’get to look at them, and for the first time you see them, see the life they hold and foster and you feel special knowin’ you’re a part of it all.”

There is a moment of silence, or— you think so, but your breathing is a little heavier than usual. The moment draws out, longer, and you’re beginning to wonder if you actually said that stuff out loud or if you simply thought it.

You bolt upright in your chair, cheeks red with embarrassment— but the fucking smile is still on your stupid face. 

“I don’t know what’s up with me right now,” you admit, eyes focused on one of the windowsills off near the door, so you don’t have to look at that helmet and feel the stare behind it. “The chief said that they smoke this stuff all the time and don’t sleep a wink, but I feel super tired.”

In your peripheral vision you see the dreaded helmet glint in the sunlight. He’s looking at you, quizzically. “What do you mean?” He asks. “The interpreter didn’t say that.”

“No,” you agree, looking back at him. You try to focus where you know a face is behind the helmet, but you can’t get the image to clear in your head. It’s all a little blurry at the edges, and your Mandalorian is all edges. “I said the chief said that.” 

“He didn’t speak any Galactic Basic. When did you hear him say that?”

The edges blur some more. “He said it when we were all walking, I dunno. He just said it.”

The Mandalorian looks toward the door, thinking. 

“It must be the ganja,” you offer.

He looks back. “The what?”

“The offering. That’s what the chief called it. But, well, I dunno if that’s what it’s actually named or what they call it,” you say, unable to look at the sharpness and crisp lines that make up the beskar armor. What’s going on with you? You weren’t concerned until now, reaching a hand up to trace your bottom lip and finding that you have control over your face again. No more creepy smiling. “I feel fine, though. From smoking.”

You steal a glance at him and find that he is still, predictably, staring at you. Your cheeks grow hot again, suddenly feeling like a burden to your employer. He is not a babysitter, and you don’t want him to feel like he has to watch over you as you ride this high.

“Really,” you add. “I feel fine. Things look weird, right now, and my head is fuzzy, but it feels good.”

He stares, and you bitterly wonder if that’s all he’s good for.

So you stand up, eyes scanning the room and you notice the heavy curtains tied neatly above each window. “Guess we should sleep,” you say, stepping towards one of the windows to let the curtains down to block out the never-ending sunlight.

But, your ankles feel a little weak, and your balance falters. 

Before your hazy head even registers that you’ve lost your footing, the Mandalorian is at your side, his right arm tucked behind your back, his right hand firmly on your right hip. His left hand is grasping your left upper arm tight enough to bruise, but without his strong grip, you would have crumbled to the floor like a tossed blanket. 

“Are you okay?” He asks immediately, and holds you tighter and hauls you up back onto your unsteady feet. Once the words finally registered in your brain, you briefly thought that he really did sound concerned— masked voice a little higher in pitch than usual.

Your fuzzy head decides the best thing to do in response is laugh as you stood up back on your own. “I’m okay,” you assure, a hint of laughter still in your voice, and you raise your hand to lightly shove him away, not needing his support anymore.

But, since he’s solid as a fucking rock, your hand just brushes against the beskar chestplate uselessly. That causes you to laugh a little more, and he lets go of you once he’s sure you can stand solidly on your own.

“Are you sure?” He asks, still with that higher pitch that the vocoder almost hides. He’s hovering close to your side, ready to catch you again if he has to. 

Curious, you raise your hand and tap your knuckles against his chestplate, and the resounding thud thud makes you smile. “Fuckin’ hardcore, Mando. I’m so jealous of your armor.”

“Yeah, you’re not okay,” he says, but you swear you hear a lilt in his voice, as though he finds you amusing. “You should try to sleep it off.”

He gestures towards one of the beds but you don’t look over to it. Instead, you tap your knuckles against one of his pauldrons. Tink tink. 

“Really,” he insists, and you for sure hear the smile on his face in that one word. “You need some sleep.” He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, slowly, so that you’re facing the bed. 

“Would you close the blinds?” You ask, stumbling forward to the bed. You flounce on top of the blanket, as this planet is quite comfortably warm— or are you just warm? — and let out a heavy sigh. A real bed.

“Of course,” Mando replies, strutting to each of the five windows in this small, quaint cottage and letting down each of the curtains. In the back of your hazy mind, you know he can see in the dark with the HUD in his helmet. The thought makes you slightly jealous, and you wonder if, as you turn to lay on your back in the blackness, if he may be looking at you. You blame the ganja for the fuzziness that overtakes you at the thought.

“Thank you,” you call into the darkness.

You hear his friendly hum somewhere in the room, and hear him sit down at the table again. Truly, the inhabitants of this planet know how to utilize the sun, and how to hide from it, as you open your eyes to stare at the ceiling and see nothing. It is completely pitch black, and you’re impressed.

The feeling of the mattress underneath you is almost too soft. You can’t remember the last time you were able to sleep on a real bed— if you ever had the pleasure. It reminds you of floating in deep salt water, the effort of staying afloat taken away from you as you just let it happen. Currently, you’re not sure if your eyes are open or closed, as it makes no difference. Your breathing is stable, and the haze in your head is tolerable. You must be coming down from the peak, and it’s making you tired.

Quietly, you hear the Mandalorian’s gloved hands grasp metal, but you’re not sure what. You hear something slightly heavy placed on the table.

He calls your name, softly, and unfiltered. 

“Yes?” You reply, breathless. Did he take his helmet off?

“Go to sleep,” he says. His usually gruff voice sounds gentle without the vocoder.

“Okay,” you say, and you do indeed need to close your eyes. The blackness behind your eyelids seems almost darker than the darkness of the room. Unbeknownst to you, you must’ve been extremely tired, because you pass out almost immediately.

[cassnottiel]

(i hope im not sending too many prompts, i have so many deke feels after tonight so im throwing them at you, if its too much ignore me!!) maybe something where deke accidently talks about his childhood a bit to fitzsimmons? like, an expansion of what we know in canon and how horrible it was. like (forgive me if im wrong my s5 memory isnt perfect lol) but im pretty sure he was a slave for a huge part of his life and that isnt spoken about much

Jemma Simmons was having as good of a day she could, having just time traveled and being a fugitive of the law, hiding in a huge underground bunker nobody knew about.

Her day got immensely worse when she entered the Lighthouse lab and saw the teams newest member, and her grandson from the future, digging a knife into his own arm.

"Deke!"  Jemma rushed forward, grabbing a towel and going to take the knife away from him.

Deke Shaw looked up, breaking his concentrated grimace with a slightly curious look.  "What?"

"What are you doing?"  Jemma wrapped his bloody wrist with the towel.

"I'm taking my metric out."  Deke set his knife down.  "Is that supposed to be a big deal?"

Jemma furrowed her brow, carefully pulled the bloody towel away and inspected the cut.  Sure enough, the circular metric was gone.  The work was careful and delicate, and there wasn't as much blood as there should have been for an inexperienced cut.

"I thought you were hurting yourself."  She said quietly.  "I'm sorry."

Deke awkwardly wiped his bloody left hand on his pants.  "It's fine, don't worry."

"Where did you learn to do this with such precision?" Jemma leaned down to look at the cut more carefully.  It looked like it was made by an experienced surgeon.

Deke shrugged and grabbed a roll of bandages from the table next to him.  "I picked it up as a kid.  My mom was kind of like the doctor of the Lighthouse."

"This is amazing work."  Jemma complimented.  "But, doesn't it hurt?"

"Not really, no."  Deke shook his head and started unrolling the bandages.  "I have a high pain tolerance."

Jemma quickly grabbed the bandages and started wrapping his wrist for him.  "Really?"  She looked at him with concern.  "Since when?"

Deke carelessly wiped the blood off the blade of his version of Fitzs multi tool with a small smile.  "Oh, you know.  The Kree weren't exactly benevolent leaders."  He retracted the blade and put the knife in his pocket, smiling like he just made a hilarious joke.

Jemmas hands froze as she thought about the implications behind that statement.  Deke took the opportunity to finish wrapping his wrist and start walking out.  

"Bye, Nana!"  He called cheerfully over his shoulder as he crossed the threshold of the door.

- - -

Fitz sighed and slammed his fist on the door.  Locked.  All the system updates that locked down the Lighthouse were getting very annoying.

"What's wrong?"  Deke Shaw, Fitzs overeager grandson from the future, was leaning against the concrete wall.

"Bloody door's locked again."  Fitzs frustration was abundant in his voice.  "I need to get to the other end of the level."  He held up a satchel full of papers he needed to get to the lab.

Deke smiled.  "I can help."  He walked over to the vent on the floor, slid his fingers between the grates and pulled.  He set it against the wall and gestured to the new hole in the wall.  "Do you have a problem with small spaces?"

Fitz stared.  "You want me to crawl through the vent?"

"I know my way through the whole vent system, I can get you anywhere you need to go."  Deke crouched down and looked through the dark tunnel, then up at his grandfather.  "Unless you want to wait?"

Fitz sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, then gestured to the vent.  "Lead the way."

The vent shafts were larger than Fitz thought they would be, not quite wide enough for the two men to sit side by side, but tall enough for them to sit comfortably.  But, they did not sit.  Fitz could barely keep up with Deke, despite only being a few years older.

"Deke, slow down."  Fitz called ahead, leaning back on his heals.  

Deke stopped and turned around.  "Sorry."  He said sheepishly and crawled back to Fitz.  

"Why are you in such a rush?"  Fitz cracked his stiff neck.

"Force of habit, sorry."  Deke apologized again.  "I'm usually running when I'm in here."

That set off an alarm bell in Fitzs mind.  "Running?"

"Yeah," Deke said like he wasn't talking about something important, "the Blues had some sort of vendetta against me or something.  I think people made bets on how far I could go without getting caught."  Fitz stared in shock.  "My record is four levels."

"Were you okay when that happened?"  Fitz asked carefully.

"No, of course not."  Deke turned his head away.  "Let's get going, you said you have something important, right?"

He did not wait for an answer, just started off in the direction that would lead to the lab.  Fitz sighed, filed away that information to talk to his wife about later, and followed his grandson

- - -

"Ta-da!"  Deke kicked the grate of the vent out and climbed out.  He stood up and spread his arms out to show off his feat of navigation.

"Thank you, Deke."  Fitz tossed his satchel to his grandson before climbing out and fixing the vent cover over the gaping hole.  "I think I'll just wait next time."

Deke shrugged and handed the satchel over.  "I get that.  I usually only used the vents if I was in real danger."

"But you . . ." Fitz frowned, "you memorized the whole layout?"

"You've seen this place in eighty years."  Deke started casually walking to the lab.  "You know how often 'real danger' is."

Fitz stood frozen for a few seconds, staring at the back of his grandsons head.  Then, he practically ran to the lab.

"Jemma," Fitz ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the open door, "has Deke said anything that's made you concerned in the time you've known him?"

Jemma looked up from what she was doing, worry flitting across her face.  "What did he tell you?"

"Did you know that our grandson has the ventilation schematics memorized?"  Fitz walked forward and lowered his voice.  "Just in case he needed to run from the Kree."  

Jemmas eyes widened.  "Oh, my God."

"What did he tell you?"  Fitz sat on one of the cots, the papers of research all but forgotten at his side.

"I found him digging his own metric out of his arm with a knife."  Jemma leaned in, like this conversation was a secret to keep from the rest of the base.  "But it didn't seem to hurt him, he told me he has a high pain tolerance."  She sighed.  "He implied the Kree would hurt him regularly, and he said it like it was no big deal."

Fitz sighed and scratched his neck. "What should we do?"  He looked up his wife.  "He shouldn't live in this world and expect it to be just like his."

Jemma nodded.  "None of us are really qualified to act as therapists, but we should talk to him."

"I know this isn't the place I grew up in."  

Both Fitz and Simmons spun around to look at the source of the voice.  Deke was standing in the door.

"Deke!"  Jemma stepped forward, as if to act like she wasn't just talking about him.

"I'm not naive."  Deke continued.  "I know this isn't the Lighthouse I'm used to."

Fitz put his hands up in a placating manor.  "We never m--"

"I don't make a big deal out of my past because I don't want you guys to make a big deal out of it."  Deke cut Fitz off.  "I know my childhood was messed up.  Believe me, I know."

"Why don't you want us to make a big deal about it?"  Jemma asked.  "You went through Hell."

"Yeah."  Deke nodded.  "I did.  But this isn't the same place, and I want to move on with my life."

"Deke," Fitz started calmly, "it's not that easy."

"You can't just bottle everything away and expect to be fine."  Jemma added.  

"I'm very good at compartmentalizing."  Deke crossed his arms.

"Compartmentalization isn't good for you."  Fitz said.  "Trust me, it's not."

Deke sighed.  "If you knew what it was like to grow up in this place, you wouldn't want to think about it either."

Jemma walked over and placed her hand on her grandsons shoulder.  "There are some things in life you have to face to move past."

"I am moving past things."  Deke said stubbornly.  "I'm making new, better memories where all the bad things in my life happened."

"Trauma doesn't work like that, Deke."  Fitz said as gently as he could.

Deke ran both his hands through his hair with a deep sigh.  "I shouldn't have said anything."  He stood up and turned to the door.

"Deke, wait."  Jemma grabbed his left arm.  "You don't have to forget everything about your past or reinvent yourself."

"But I want to."  Deke said very clearly.  "Kasius owned me, and I don't want to feel like his property anymore."

Jemma made sure keep her voice calm, she didn't want to escalate this.  "We've seen what he did, we know--"

"No, you don't know."  Deke snapped.  "He literally owned me.  After my dad was sent to the surface, Kasius and Sinara wanted to groom me into one of their deaf servants."

Jemma and Fitz looked at each other, then back at their grandson.

"You know what it's like."  He looked to Jemma.  "Having that-- that-- that thing in my ear is one of the worst things that's ever happened to me."

"You've had it?"  Jemmas voice went quiet.  "How old were you?"

"I was fourteen."  The fire in Dekes eyes never dampened.  "So, forgive me if I want to forget that part of my life."

"Deke," Fitz said slowly, reaching out, "you don't need to keep going, we understand."

Deke sighed again, more aggressively, showing the frustration he was feeling.  "Do you?"  He asked.  "You all were there for a few weeks, maybe.  I was born there, raised there.  I spent the first twenty-eight years of my life in that apocalyptic hellscape!"  He gestured wildly around the room.  "And I'm still here!  Even when there's a rest of the world out there, I'm here, in the place I watched my whole family die."

"Deke . . ." neither grandparent knew how to handle this.  It seemed that this was the first time he got to really talk about his past traumas in a serious way.

Deke sat down on one of the cots tiredly.  "I watched you both die."  He whispered, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"What?!"  Jemma was at his side in seconds, Fitz not far behind.

"When I was nine, Kasius got rid of everyone who believed in the prophecy.  All the smart people."  Deke forced himself to steady his breath and closed his eyes.  "They killed everyone in the middle of the Exchange, to make an example."  He looked up at Jemma, then Fitz, then at the concrete floor.  "They took my mom, and my moms parents."

"I--" Fitz clenched his fists at his side.  "I'm sorry, Deke."  He said quietly.  He lifted his hand and carefully, comfortingly, rubbed Dekes back between the shoulder blades.

"We're going to make sure that world will never exist."  Jemma promised.  "So the next version of you to exist will never go through that."

Suddenly, Deke threw his arms around Jemma and Fitz.  He pulled them into a tight hug and finally let the tears he had been holding in for God knows how long fall.  Deke buried his face in the soft fabric of Fitz shirt as his shuddering breaths shook his whole frame.  Both grandparents immediately returned the hug.  It was a hug from a child who had lost his family too young, had been alone for too long.

As unconventional as this new family was, they loved each other.  And this family kept their promises, no matter how far they need to go.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Life After Snowpiercer: Still Alive

Summery- Curtis (hints of You) makes his way through the cars, and reaches the end to find a surprise waiting for him. Violence. 

If you want to read the story Curtis told Nam, read it here- Past Horrors

Word Count- 2967

Chapter 3 / Masterlist

“OPEN IT, OPEN THE FUCKING GATE!”

Curtis stood at the final gate, the final mother fucking gate, his palms slapping at it, his boots ramming into it, and his rage, all that rage from the past 17 years, and more recently the two days it took him to fight his way here, so many lives, gone. His revolution had become a blood bath, Gilliam executed, Grey stabbed, Tonya shot, You… well he couldnt even let himself go there, not yet. Edgar, well fuck Edgar he betrayed, having left him laying among the rest, setting out right after the battle of the tunnel, leaving the majority of people behind to care for the dead and wounded. There was no time to stall.  

Hours before in horror he watched the front enders slaughter his people in the television screen,among a car full of children singing praises to the almighty Wilford, the saviour. The armed men entered the gate and were lost from sight. Curtis just felt that all of you were gunned down without a care. No…. He almost broke right then and there, he could see them entering the last car, the one where he supposedly had you kept safe. His breathing picked up, his chest tightened and black stars swarmed in his vision. Then the tv crackled the noises of gunshots and flares of white could be seen coming out of the darkest gateway, all of it so grainy on the screen, but it was picture clear for him. No bodies could be seen, but the way his whole being just shattered into a million biting glass edges, slicing unseen wounds through his mind, he lost you, he couldnt keep you safe after all. Tonya smacked his face. “Curtis snap out of it, you have to lead us”

How can I? Shes gone, they shot her. His mind pieced together an image of your body crumbled in the middle of the aisle, bright red blossoming around you like a opening flower across your back, your hand outreaching for the darkness that might have hid you. Your eyes, the ones hes seen laughing, crying and loving, glassed over sightless, that part that was a persons soul, the spark that brought them life in there eyes, gone. Gone, could it really be? Curtis, she was doomed the day she chose you, and you kept her anyways. Monster. You killed her.

Suddenly Tonya came into his vision again, and beyond her, Minister Mason crumbled on her knees, her rat like face, with those beady eyes and oversized false teeth saying his name “Curtis, I can help you!” The heavy weight of the gun in his palm had a purpose, and it felt FUCKING GOOD just then. Without even a moment in between her words and him registering what the fuck she was pleading for, he marched over and right to her forehead the muzzle settled, her eyes rolling up to look at it in fear, the yellowish whites of her eyes brimming with tears, pupils focused on the muzzle indenting against her forehead. “Curtis pleeease, I beg you!”

His expression, was that of a man who no longer gave a shit what happened to him, his finger squeezed and that bullet, with a little satisfaction for him, drilled through her brain, a splatter of red grazing the entire area. A wipe of his hand across his face, he turned back towards the gate, Nam already working on it. Switching to a new cartridge, he told those still remaining. “We go forward” And just as he came to the gate, Nam got it to swing open, and now this man became the darkest part of himself he could possibly be, the compassion he would show his fellow kind was simply gone. There was no hestitation in his actions. If anyone crossed his path, they were met with cold killing rage.

Now at the final gate, that god damn signature W holding him back from Wilford. Nam tried to stall Curtis, refusing to open that final one for reasons Curtis couldnt understand. His daughter Yona, moaned on a pile of coats, drugged and drunk beyond rational thought, the child was a pitiful sight indeed. “Open the gate Nam, now. Is this what you want?” Curtis emptied his pockets of the kronoles, flinging them at the ex security intel “Take it! Open the fucking gate now!” 

In a moment of weariness, Curtis stumbled to the floor, leaning back against the frame work staring at the door. Nam took some pity on the man and tossed him a smoke “Fucker better enjoy it, its the last one.” What the hell, Curtis thought, and he lit it, taking a stale drag of nicotine he hadnt experienced since he was 16 at a party. Finally he started talking, telling Nam all about how the beginning of his life on the train went. Inside his mind though, was a totally different conversation, his way of saying goodbye he supposed although numb at this point to everything, he could still sense the pain it was causing, vibrating in waves from him. 

“Hey handsome” Your hands would slide up his chest and circle around his neck. “Almost at the end of the line”

“Appears so Baby” Another drag of smoke escaping from him. 

“I guess were lucky we got this far right? I knew you would Curtis” Plucking his smoke from his lips and taking an inhale, washing the two of you in a billowing nicotine haze. 

“Leave it to you babygirl to find the bright side here.” He chuckled, seeing you now rise to the balls of your feet to kiss him, hell even imaginary your kisses could score a fire to settle in him. How he wished it was real. That you were here, fuck he missed you it was an ache in his chest.”I dont think Im going to be returning… “ His voice drifted off softly. 

“Oh handsome, you know I will find you again, another lifetime. You dont think this is truly the end of us?” 

“No? it seems like it” 

“Handsome, this is just one of many. I love you and we will see each other again. Now go do what you came to do.” you winked and returned the camel between his lips. Stepping away and leaving him alone once more.

Curtis lifted his gaze, asking one last final time. “Open the gate, please” Nam again shook his head, going off in how they MIGHT survive outside of the train, that the snow was melting, there was no need to stay. 

“What are you fucking nuts? go out there and freeze. Leave all these people here, no. Open the GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING DOOR” 

Then like the gate just knew, it clicked open and a flash of yellow stepped out, Nam shot backwards and in Claudes hand was a pistol. Composed as ever, she looked at Curtis. “Wilford will see you now.” 

He simply spared a glance at Nam, whom Yona was wailing and shaking to bring back to her, and he pushed up, and into the room, all cold steel metal and blue glows, along one wall was a kitchen gallery, all dark masculine looking wood work and at the table in the car, sat an older man with intense blue eyes, staring at Curtis while frying his steak, smirking. “Curtis! Lets take a look at you.” Wilford almost sounded joyful, impressed? “You did a mans work coming all the way up here, did you know its been years since anyones walked the entire length of this train. How about you sit down, lets chat.” Claude nudged him towards the seat. With contempt he obliged, sitting down. “Would you believe Ive never been to the tail section?”

Curtis spat out “why the hell not, we to dirty for you in the tail section?”

“You think the engine isnt without its own complications Curtis?” Wilford turned from frying his steak for half a second, fixing Curtis with a look of disappointment. “It gets awful noisy up here, and not many to talk to.” 

Who the fuck does he think he is? Noisy? Trying living with a thousand people in a iron box. “Right, you got steaks, room, and that whore will bring you whatever you want.”

“Curtis, everyone has there preordained position. And everyone is in there place…” Pointing at him with the greasy spatula, the steak starting to smoke and sizzle on the stove top. “Except you.” Turning back he flipped the steaks on a plate. 

“Yea, thats what people with the best place say to those in the worst place. There is not one soul who wouldnt willingly trade places with you.” Damn straight Baby, your voice encouraged him. 

“Would you?” Wilford questioned, seasoning his steak, how in the hell do seasons still exist? Perhaps you werent always the best voice of reasoning. 

“Fuck you” Curtis spat at him with hatred and disgust. 

Wilford sighed, as if exasperated with him. “Curtis, were all stuck on this train, and its a enclosed ecosystem with a fragile balance. Med rare?” Breaking his line of thought, Curtis ignored the question entirely, which Wilford paid no heed to. “population must be kept in balance, everything rigidly maintained. Now there are times… we have to take more drastic measures.” Wilford brought the steaks over, setting one perfectly cooked one in front of Curtis. “we simply dont have time to let natural selection take over, we all would be overcrowded on this train, starving. Remember starving Curtis? It took us a while to get the protein blocks going. I am truly sorry about that.” Wilford cut a bite of his steak and chewed between the rest of his words. “So we occasionally stir the pot to speak. Get things moving… The cast out of the seven, The McGregor Riots, and this one… My new favorite. The Great Curtis Revolution. Nice ring to it, right? The kids will love it” He winked one icy blue eye at Curtis as if it was a big joke between them. “I mean who was to expect you to come through with torches through the  Yekaterina tunnel? Pure genius, nothing like Gilliam or I expected” 

Curtis snapped his head a bit and confusion clouded his face He didnt just say that. “What?”

“Now come on, dont tell me you didnt know, Gilliam and I?” Giving an amused chuckle at Curtis confusion. “Front end and Tail end, we work together Curtis, he was more then a partner, he was my friend.”

“Bullshit, I dont believe you” Curtis stated, there was no way Gilliam was friends with Wilford, the hours the two of them had spent together discussing how to get here. 

A grin crossed Wilfords face “well our plan was that the rebellion was to end at the tunnel. Kill off most of you, send the rest back. Curtis, why do you think Gilliam conditioned you to be the leader after McGregor? Sadly, it was supposed to be your hurrah. Your going out like in that old movie…. Braveheart? Going out in a fight. Your name was to give the remaining tail enders hope. So Gilliam gave you everything you could want back there. No one messed with you, got to keep the pretty girl, no one shamed you for keeping both your hands. Wasnt it nice, be able to hold her with both.” Dont you dare listen to him baby, we chose each other, Your voice echoed and stressed.  A sickness washed over Curtis as these words, Wilford seemed none the wiser over what his words were doing, or he simply didnt care. “Gilliam said you were smart, but he could control you. Sadly he didnt.” Wilford wiped his mouth and tossed the napkin down, not even eating half the steak. “And why he had to pay the price. Im going to miss my friend, our long nightly chats.”

Still in disbelief over the news, Gilliam had been a mentor to him, a father when he needed advice. All those years, and he just fueled Curtis rage for this moment. No one knew that the traitorous snake was the man they all pledged there allegiance to. 

“But your little stunt, well it took out more of the front end then I had hoped, but what fun, right? Its okay, you tail enders throw off brats pretty quickly, we will recover. Theres really just one last thing to do.” Picking up a phone, he pressed a button and waited for an answer. “How many you got left back there?” He listened and looked at Claude “We still at 75 percent?” she gave a nod and he returned to whomever was on the phone “Kill off 75 percent…. actually you know what? In celebration of our 18th year, keep 18 extra alive. Thank you” 

Before he hung up, the barely there sound of gunfire blasted from the phone, and Curtis sprang to his feet. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Claude gave off one warning shot, which ricochet the bullet around the room, causing them all to duck momentarily. “God damn it Claude! Mind the engine.” Turning to Curtis who was straightening himself out and at this point ready to get this fucken over with. “God damn high strung woman, cant do nothing with them when they get to that point.” Wilford muttered to himself, going up the steps to check on the cylinders circling. Curtis followed him up, preparing to end this now. Wilford pulling out his own pistol from his robes, he cocked it at Curtis.”Mind your next move son. I got a proposition for ya, you might want to consider.” 

Curtis merely paused cause of the gun pointing at his chest, basic human instinct still riding out his anger. Clenching his jaw, the twitch ticking in tandem, Wilford motioned him forward. “Listen, I like you, you got spunk, You get the job done. I already have a predecessor, but I need someone who can take over Minister Masons place since you disposed of her. About time someone did, I couldnt stand that woman. At the time, she was my finest choice though. You carry out what I need done, I know you have it in you.” Sliding the gun back into his robe when it seemed Curtis was no longer about to attack him. “Once in a while you dispose of some unnecessary lives we no longer have use for, do some intimidation to out of control groups. I will let you stay up front, even bring your girl up here.”

“Shes still alive?” Curtis croaked, the haze of your name clouding his senses, could it be true, was there actually hope?

“What? Of course shes still alive Curtis. First shes a woman, I wouldnt have my men kill off any women her age unless she was unfit to bear children. Even if you werent in the picture I would have her brought up here, resupply the front end. Shes a pretty thing, make someone a good wife. We need to continue the supply after all. Second, shes yours and Gilliam made it clear she was necessary to keep you compliant. Why do you think we allowed you two to play house with those orphans? Her little pet project. Why we never collected those kids, yes I knew all about them all along.” Wilford spoke as if he was doing You and Curtis a major favor. The fucken ass. Curtis could just see you now, the roll of your eyes and arms folding over your chest, Child Bearing Wife? Go Fuck Yourself Wilford.

All this information sunk in, Still alive, You were still alive. He could have you back, it was as simple as saying yes at this point. Sinking to his knees, his hands came to his face, relief watering his eyes and a soft sob broke. Wilford circled the man, whispering to him “Imagine it Curtis, life of luxury up here, have your girl back. You wouldnt ever have to live in a cage per say again. Just follow my orders like a good little soldier. Its really that easy. Minister Everett, sounds fitting right? The tail ender who actually made something of himself. Gilliam would want that for you.” Then he walked away, leaving Curtis all alone, choking on another sob, his hand came to his head and brushed his signature beanie off, rubbing his head.  No Curtis, you are here for a reason, echoes of your voice shouted at him.  “And if I say no?” Wilford snorted with disdain at Curtis, rolling his eyes with exasperation. 

“Im giving you the deal of a life time and you dont want to take it? Fine, I guess I will have her killed Curtis, marched right up here and you can watch her die, or bring her up here and give her away to someone else? You can watch another man have her. Is that a better option. Its either you do this or you die and shes mine.” He gave a shrug. “The choice of your fates is in your hands.” Wilford was no fool, he knew how to work Curtis, already he could see the mans shoulders sink in a sign of defeat. Claude was perched near the gate entrance when it opened, a glance over her shoulder widened her smile, and she stepped aside. “Ahhh, I was wondering where my predecessor had gone off to, its about time you arrived. I was just telling Curtis all about what we set up for him.”

Curtis looked over his shoulder and the familiarity of the man struck him hard, it was like looking at you, your features in this young man was so prominent, he croaked out in disbelief. 

“Matt?!” 

Yes, your brother was still alive, healthy and alive. Dressed in a fine suit, well groomed, the young man smirked at Curtis. “Long time Curtis, good to see you again.”

@what-is-your-plan-today​ @jtargaryen18​ @curtisbbq​ @p8tn0lish​

[darlinvandijk]

Obvious

Concept: a request where being the opener for ruel leads to some pretty obvious crushes for two oblivious singers, who need a little help from the fans to make the ship happen, since they seem to be the only ones to notice how obvious the feelings are between the two (p.s. it’s long like all my other ones, sorry about that). Dm me and whatnot for any requests and I’ll be happy to comply! Hope you enjoy :)

I walk around my hotel room frantically looking for my shoes that I planned on wearing tonight, but obviously with my luck they were nowhere to be found. I’m laying on my stomach, halfway under the bed, when I hear my hotel room door open, and feet making there way over to me.

“So I have two questions, why’re you under the bed and are you ready to go do soundcheck?” Is all I hear from Ruel before I smack my head trying to get out from under the bed.

“Ow fuck, uhm I am ready for soundcheck but I lost my shoes and was looking for them, have you seen them?” I ask him with pleading eyes, knowing that he hasn’t seen them, but hoping it’ll lead him to offer up some help to search for them, also trying to hide the fact that I was embarrassed from doing that in front of him.

“Guess it’s time to start looking” he grumbles with a dramatic eye roll as he rubs the spot where I smacked my head before giving it a small kiss and walking away to start to make his way around my room, looking through bags and drawers for my shoes.

Within minutes he’s tossing my shoes at me and ushering me out the door, with one hand planted firmly on my lower back, so we can make it to soundcheck only a few minutes late. We get in and do a few warmups, before doing our usual soundcheck and messing around a bit before we start heading back to the hotel to hangout before the show starts.

“Wanna do a live with me? The fans have been relentlessly telling me to do one and said that if I don’t have you make an appearance they’ll deem Coco the better Van Dijk” he mumbles while awkwardly standing in front of his hotel room, which just so happens to be right across from mine. I laugh as I look at the defeated look on his face, he should already know that Coco is indeed better than him.

“Yeah, let me change first though” I tell him while opening my door with my key card. He nods his head and goes into his room to set everything up.

I take off my pants and replace them with a pair of shorts, while also grabbing the hoodie I borrowed from Ruel the other day and putting it on. I proceed to make my way across the hall and into his room, since he left the door partially open so I could enter. I walk in just as he starts the live and starts saying hi to the fans.

“Okay so I have a surprise for you guys, since all of you won’t stop harassing me, welcome our special guest” Ruel exclaims while grabbing me and pulling me against him so that I fit into the frame. He pulls a bit harder than expected, so my body falls on top of him, making us land on the bed face to face, with him gripping my waist, pressing me against him even more if possible.

“Rueloff you big oaf, look what you’ve done” I shriek while laughing, trying to hide the fact that this postition was making me very flustered, he comes out of his daze as slightly blushes before he helps me move into a position where we are sitting side by side in front of the camera and can both see the comments from the fans.

“Hi my loves, how are you all?” I ask leaning forward a bit so that I can read all the comments pouring in, ignoring the hand that Ruel put on my leg out of the cameras frame, since I know he means nothing by it. I laugh when I see how crazy the fans are about us finally doing a live together.

cocoisbetterthanu: is my ship fucking SAILING rueloff_2: he is literally so flustered how can this bitch not tell he wants her??? 2tall4u: did y’all SEE that mf position they were in roolthefool: oh god mom and dad are my goals and that’s on that bitch rueloff_2: HOLD UP ISNT THAT RUELS HOODIE OR AM I DUMB loco4coco: nO way that’s his fucking hoodie omg y’all we called it

“Slow down with the comments guys, I can’t read that fast” Ruel whines trying to read them, I throw my head back laughing while slightly leaning on him to not lose balance and fall off the bed. He looks over at me and gives me a soft smile, just for a second forgetting about the thousands of viewers watching them, and focusing on the one girl he loves, but is too afraid to tell.

“Okay so let’s answer some of these. First of all sailing? Do I look like a boat to you? I also am not only not a boat, but I am not a mother and pleaseee this is my hoodie” I sassily say while dramatically flipping my hair over my shoulder. Ruel laughs and gives me a light shove before glancing at the hoodie and rolling his eyes.

“I know I said you could borrow it, but I didn’t think you’d actually keep it and just never give it back to me” he says playfully glaring at me causing me to snort and turn back to the phone to look at more comments. This time just seeing comments about how I’m so blind for not noticing the obvious, like what’s obvious?

“That’s a you problem bubs, buuut rueloff_2 you’re correct, this is actually his hoodie, that I now proclaim as mine” I say laughing, only to turn and see Ruel blushing as he reads the comments. Before I can even question him on what everyone means when they say ‘it’s obvious’ he starts talking.

“Guys she’s always called me bubs, it’s not anything new, stoppp embarrassing me” He whines as he sees all of them calling him bubs. I lean my head on his arm and smile up at him, as he looks down at me and smiles before turning back to the live and answering more questions.

“Ooh Ruel there’s a question for you, got a crush on anyone?” I ask him with a small smirk, trying to hide the fact that I’m beyond nervous to hear his reply. He tenses up and turns red, causing my heart to shatter, but I cover it up with a laugh and a slight nudge to his arm.

“Uhm like celebrity crush?” He asks while trying to avoid answering the question. I roll my eyes before giving him a deadpan look.

“Obviously not, they mean a real girl that you actually have a chance with, not like Beyoncé or something” I say with a grin, even though I’m literally sweating buckets because of the question and not wanting to know what beautiful girl he’s gonna say.

“I mean uhm yeah, I guess so. I don’t have a chance with her, she just sees me as a best friend, but you can’t help who you have feelings for” He says with a small smile as I nod and face the live to focus on more comments, trying to ignore the feeling of heartbreak, whilst being completely oblivious to the tall boy watching me with a soft smile and affection clouding his eyes.

As I’m looking at the comments, I see a particular one that catches my eye, but I knew it was too fast for Ruel to see.

loco4coco: y’all are killing me with this whole oblivious not seeing what’s in front of u thing 2tall4u: sing a song to describe your crush, both of you roolthefool: do IT cocoisbetterthanu: u must do it or I’ll die

“Oh I’ve been dazed and confused, from the day I met you” I sing with a small smirk, wondering if the fans will catch on to me answering their question. Giving them a sad smile when I see the comments start flying in ranging from “oh my god” to “that couldn’t have been more obvious”, knowing that he’d never feel the same.

“Woah she sings one line from my song and you guys go crazy, but I sing all the time on here and you guys ignore me and just ask to see Coco” he mumbles with a glare towards the camera before shaking his head with a small smile, coming out of the trance he was in while she sang. Which didn’t go unnoticed by fans, as they watched him stare at her with a complete look of awe on his face. We talk to the fans for a little bit longer before my phone starts getting messages from Nate about getting off live.

“Aww sorry guys we have to go now, Nate just texted that it’s time to head over for the show, love you all” I say blowing a kiss to the camera, with Ruel smiling and wrapping his arm around me and giving a wave before ending the live. We both decide to get ready in his room, listening to music and joking around with each other the whole time, before finally leaving to go start the concert.

We get to the venue and I go out and do my set, seeing Ruel singing to all my songs on the side of the stage, before thanking the fans and telling them to get ready for Ruel. I jog off stage with a wave, grabbing the water bottle Ruel was holding and taking a drink from it.

“You killed it bubs” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I smile against his chest before giving him a small hug and telling him to go kill it on stage. While he’s up there, I get a phone call, telling Nate to record however much I miss, before jogging to a quiet part of the back area. While I’m taking a call, I miss a fan yelling out to Ruel to “man up and make my ship happen already”, causing him to roll his eyes at them before replying with a comment that makes the fans go crazy.

“I will, you guys know I did read a lot of those comments today, but if you’re wrong and make me embarrass myself, I’m quitting this tour” he laughs causing the fans to scream and laugh. He then glances over to Nate, who gives him a thumbs up to signal that I’m still gone, before Ruel keeps talking and comes up with a quick plan with the crowd, before resuming to his set list.

I come back and listen to the rest of his set and as he is about to play one very last song, since the crowd begged him, when they start chanting for me to go on stage with him. He motions for me to come join him out there, leading to me shyly joining him on stage, knowing that most of these fans probably watched the live. Once I’m within reach, he pulls me over and wraps his arm around my waist, causing the fans to erupt in screams, and my face to grow hot.

“Do you guys mind if I do a special song as my encore?” Ruel asks the crowd, causing them to all scream out in excitement. He lets out a laugh and nods his head, turning to the band and giving them a thumbs up to start the track. I give Ruel a confused look, considering the song was starting and I didn’t have a microphone or even know what the plan was. He gives me a soft smile before grabbing my hand and turning me to completely face him.

“Oh I’ve been dazed and confused, from the day I met you” Ruel belts out with a smirk on his face as he watches my expression turn from confused to absolutely mortified.

Before I can even do anything, he grabs my waist and pulls me in close, pressing his forehead into mine, both of us ignoring the screaming and everything happening behind us. He moves one hand slowly up from my waist to the side of my neck, slowly tilting my head up. I breathe in deeply staring into his green eyes, watching as he cracks a small smile at me.

“You’ve been a little oblivious to my feelings for you, but we’re gonna change that” He mutters leaving no room for argument, his breath fanning across my lips, right as he smirks and leans down, completely pressing his lips to mine, causing the crowd to lose their minds.

“Fucking finally!! We’ve known about his crush for like 8 months now!” A fan screams causing Ruel to pull back with a laugh and me to look at him in awe. He turns back to me and gives me another small peck, causing the fans to go wild.

Later that night, I’m in my hotel room with Ruel as he lays with his head in the crook of my neck letting out soft even breaths while I lightly play with his hair, thinking about the fact that if it wasn’t for the fans we wouldn’t even be together right now. While I softly smile at the fact that we were so dumb to never notice one another’s feelings, I don’t even notice the shift of his head, as his green eyes stare up at me and watch me with nothing but pure love in them, a true love that’ll never go away.

Who knew that we could both be so obvious about our feelings, yet oblivious to each other’s feelings. Guess we’ve quite literally been Dazed and Confused with each other, or as our fans said “plain fucking stupid”.

[thehighestmountains]

evermore review and ranking:

overall, i found this album to have more skippable songs than folklore and the middle of my ranking definitely feels like the middle whereas in my folklore ranking, #14 was still a fav. folklore was a true anomaly where i was just adding the whole album to my playlist. evermore really feels like folklore’s little sister getting the hand-me-downs, who just doesnt know who she is or what shes doing with her life, what is the theme exactly. 

tis the damn season. i fell in love in the first five seconds. i love the moody mature guitar strums and drum beats amping up the entire song. the story of coming back to an old love in your hometown reminds me of the show ‘the normal people’. im a real sucker for sagas, timeless loves that pull you in time and time again, familiar feelings that just feel right because you experienced them at such a young age.  this song gets me.

There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me But if it's all the same to you It's the same to me

So we could call it even You could call me "babe" for the weekend ​'Tis the damn season, write this down

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends

long story short. this is such a banger r u joking. i feel every single one of my blood cells pumping as soon as this song starts. i even love the post-chorus, a great break from the chorus and the verses. i could post the whole song as my favorite lines.

And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels breakAnd I fell from the pedestal Right down the rabbit hole Long story short, it was a bad time When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready

ivy. hard not to compare this to illicit affairs, but this is like an upbeat version. if i didnt even pay attention to the lyrics, i would think this is so fun and catchy, it sounds good. there is no anger, there is a joy. and i just like it.

Oh, goddamn My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you So yeah, it's a fire It's a goddamn blaze in the dark And you started it

willow. im really glad this was the leading single because this is a beautiful stringy piece with a great melody. when i was reading the lyrics before listening to the song, it sounded extremely cheesy with “thats my man”, “i come back stronger than a 90s trend”, but in the song, i love it. theres a lot of heart and oompf to this.

And if it was an open-shut case I never would've known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine

The more that you say, the less I know Wherever you stray, I follow

coney island. i wonder why she picked coney island, a very summery location with the bright lines and merry go, when the whole album is supposed to be a winterscape. i barely understand what this song is about but i enjoy the sounds.

Did I close my fist around something delicate? Did I shatter you?

evermore. i love when justin vernon starts singing with that beautiful falsetto “cant not think of all the cost and the things that will be lost”.

Or the violence of the dog days I'm on waves, out being tossed

champagne problems. before i get into this, i like this song, im impressed with the bridge and the chorus, i enjoy the story. just a small thing: title phrase. i just dont vibe with it, the rest of the lyrics couldve been more connected with champagne, i dont believe champagne to be any alcoholic’s choice of drink. and one more nitpick, who likes that random piano mash at the end, anyone?

Your mom's ring in your pocket My picture in your wallet Your heart was glass, I dropped it

One for the money, two for the show I never was ready so I watch you go Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

tolerate it - this is a good mellow song, i can relate to the deep sadness of feeling ignored, every thing you do is just dropped. i feel this could grow on me, especially because at the end we really get that jolt of energy, i can leave, i can do it.

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait

gold rush. this song is a little too sweet for me, specifically “i dont need a gold rush gold rush”. its just an upbeat and repetitive pop song. i also find this specific high school energy of really wanting someone but also despising their appeal to just not relate to the headspace im currently in.

no body no crime. whoooa that blast of country. it kind of feels weird in this album. i think the chorus is incredibly boring, “i think he did it but i just cant prove it” over and over.

No, no body, no crime But I ain't lettin' up until the day I die

closure. i cant get over the constant banging of industrial pots and pans throughout this whole song lol. i really went back and forth between do i like this, no i hate it, ok i could get used to it, no no it doesnt fit with the lyrics and how shes singing. i also dont care for “yes i got your letter, yes im doing better”.

we have a large pile of songs at the bottom, they all mush together in a sad corner. these could maybe grow on me but i also would be fine never listening to them again. with folklore’s sad songs, like epiphany or my tears ricochet, there was still something that appealed to me. most of these, there just isnt anything.

happiness - similar to tolerate it, i think the lyrics carry and convey a specific feeling very well, i have definitely felt this way, but i dont feel like the instrumentals match her emotional singing. i think she really carries this song and the instruments just let me down.

No one teaches you what to do  When a good man hurts you And you know you hurt him too

marjorie - i feel like a song about her grandmother could have been so great instead we get “what died didnt stay dead” over and over and a bridge that is mostly about herself. “shouldve kept every grocery store receipt cause every scrap of you would be taken from me” is the worst of the lines, thats what you want to keep? grocery receipts? the song should be about her grandmother leaving all her “backlogged dreams” to her, and im not getting much of that.

cowboy like me - takes one... to... know... one...... this song does not embody  the type of cowboy shes talking about, perhaps a 80 year old woman singing about her tendencies to run away. im not convinced taylor is singing from a place she understands enough about. my least favorite line in the album goes to “the tennis court was covered up with some tent-like thing”. tent like thing? lol ok. although i will say one of my favorite lines is “forever is the sweetest con”, but that gem cannot save this song.

dorothea - this is the worst version of seven from folklore. its about ten times less interesting, very bare bones, hardly any story or background information. i dont particularly like the name dorothea. giving me major grandma vibes, these last three songs are major grandma vibes.