#tomorrows gonna be interesting no matter what thats for damn sure

[alwayssunnyinhawkins]

I WAS

FUCKING!

RIGHT!!!

[itgomyway]

the “physical” world vs “imagination” = consciousness ☘️

i get a LOT of questions regarding people grasping the no separation, consciousness is the only thing that exist, but then they relate the “real world” to what they see physically. human senses are misleading and you should never lead your understanding with them.

for example, the kitchen stove now exist to you because you’re aware of it. do you see it right now though? do you hear it? can you taste it? no! but that doesnt mean it does not exist.

your physical world and how you perceive it is just as fake as your “imagination” and how you perceive it. the only real reality that exist right now is consciousness. consciousness is nothing because consciousness is everything. nothing goes on until you the observer observes moments happening. that is what the present is. that is the only perception of time you actually have. everything else like the past, future, tomorrow, yesterday, in a few hours doesn’t exist.

HOWEVER whatever you observe is not real because it CAME to your awareness. you had to become aware of it for it to exist, while consciousness will always exist. whether or not you understand non dualism, thats why it doesn’t matter if “you” don’t understand because the “you” that has to understand non dualism doesnt exist.

consciousness is the only thing that actually exist and you are this consciousness. a favorable story “you” like to tell yourself is that you are a human being experiencing this earth as a human. and i mean go for it but i wouldnt let it control you. because you are MUCH more.

i cannot describe exactly how powerful you are. its not possible because any words of power automatically limits us. “god” “master manifester” “shifter” “witch” “astrologer” are forms of consciousness youve created to understand human conditions. you are much more than that because you are all of that. so seeing you limit yourself to the human condition is very interesting to say the least. sure human emotions can be fun to experience but so can rollercoasters. are you gonna let that control you?

all im saying is, understand what you are and then you can truly experience “life” however you please. there’s nothing wrong with “desiring” youre just wasting energy by desiring the process to achieve things and not the thing itself. you are EVERYTHING so why limit yourself? you have everything instantaneous so why focus on getting anything?

would a god limit themselves? would a god look at the human condition and be like “damn youre so right this is hopeless..” no? then WHY are you? circumstances don’t arise with adjectives like “hard” or “easy” theyre just circumstances youre aware of and as the observer you give the circumstances their identity. whether or not its real, it is negative, positive, WHATEVER! all of these are connotations you as consciousness are giving these experiences. and it is your fault. by accepting responsibility of circumstances that arise and by working WITH them you can condition yourself into understanding theyre not real anyway. they only have the power the observer gives them. dont be a victim in your own reality. LIVE YOUR LIFE <3

© itgomyway

[yamagucji]

Embarrassing moments

warnings. just for shits n giggles, 14+ readers preferably, mentions of vomit, poop, choking, etc.

HINATA was extremely constipated and needed to use the bathroom quick. but there’s a long line to the mens bathroom (what’s the occasion anyway??) and he’s standing all the way at the back. poor hinata felt a fart coming so he just couldn’t... hold it in. mans SHARTED. shitted and farted at the same time. it stunk so bad that the guys in front of him said, “damn, you need the toilet more than me,” and let him cut in line.

USHIJIMA and tendou stopped to pet this dog during their walk. tendou’s conversing with the owner while toshi’s petting the dog. dog likes it, it’s all good. until... it got bored and decided that toshi’s butt smelled good. dog just wouldn’t stop sniffing his ass. “please, stop smelling me,” toshi says with desperation, which now catches the others’ attention. the owner has to pry their dog away from toshi’s ass cheeks, please. the awkward tension kinda dies down until tendou utters, “so, what’s your secret? what product are you using?”

YAMAGUCHI drank water in the middle of silent class reading. this boy started choking— and i mean choking on his water. you can hear his muffled coughs in the distance and when you turn around to look at him, his face is all red and his cheeks are puffy. none of his classmates say anything but you can practically feel second-hand embarrassment oozing around. the assistant teacher even has the audacity to say, “drink some water.”

KENMA’s calling this one his last try. he sticks his remaining coins into the slot and tries to get the brand new nintendo box thats in the machine. mf has been going at this for over twenty minutes now. his pouch is empty and there’s a crowd of kids waiting for him. no miracle happens in his last try (shit got stuck!!) so he has to move away only to watch in horror— as the kid after him manages to get it. you’re gonna have to hold kenma down before he hunts that kid with every bit of his soul.

DAICHI had a fat one coming in, that’s for sure. thought it was a free real estate just because everyone else in the camp seemed asleep. so he let that monster fart come out (even partly stuck out his thigh for better airway). whole team was awake in a matter of seconds. nishinoya’s jumped off his sleeping bag and asking everyone if they heard that “loud bang.” tanaka’s over here sniffing around because he knows that no one has got some kind of bomb that stinks.

SAKUSA’s not gonna admit to this one. but one time he opened a bathroom stall (it was unlocked) only to find that it was occupied. there are no words to accurately describe just how horried the sight was. sitting on the toilet was a man taking a shit, with his dick on full boner mode, staring back at sakusa. they only made eye contact for just 2 seconds but sakusa’s seen enough. he’s heard enough too, when said stranger asked him, “you wanna join me?”

ASAHI projectile vomited at the theaters. you should’ve known it was a bad idea to take him out to dinner before going to watch a scary movie. man had no courage to tell you he had an upset stomach nor tell you he’s not a fan of horror. it’s twenty minutes into the movie and he’s poking your arm— but you don’t notice because you’re too engrossed. another twenty minutes, and a jumpscare comes on. man beside you vomits like there’s no tomorrow. ya’ll spend the rest of the movie secretly trying to clean his throw-up.

TENDOU was watching anime in his dorm peacefully. until... the whole shiratorizawa team opened the door just in time for the show to switch up to an inappropriate scene. out of all the times they could’ve walked in, they really had to come when 2d clown man was moaning and fighting a kid? tendou scrambled to close his laptop but now he’s just staring back at his teammates; silent, except for the fact that his show is still playing and you can still hearing moaning in the background.

TSUKISHIMA turned his house upside down and still couldn’t find his glasses, nor his extra pair. he was about to leave bare eyed until his mom caught him and forced him to wear his sports glasses. yeah, the one with the whole strap and everything. mans looked like a fool coming to school with it on. people who didn’t know it was his sports glasses mistook it for swimming goggles. he’s so utterly humiliated now, he can’t even bite back when hinata or kageyama says something.

GOSHIKI... i don’t even know what to tell you. who let this kid go further into the lake by himself? it’s all fun and games for everyone until you hear an ear-defeaning shriek by your one and only goshiki. he’s yelling out, “help me! please! help!!” the lifeguards start kicking in and everyone’s trying to make way. is he drowning? is there something there? no for god’s sake. you find out he just made it 5 ft deep and happened to swim over a bunch of seaweed. never take him swimming again.

ATSUMU decided to check himself out using someone’s car window. he’s fixing his hair, picking at his teeth, and even checking to see if he has any boogers. all of a sudden the window rolls down and there’s a senior citizen staring back at him. “boy do you think my car is your mirror?” the man says in a gruffy voice. atsumu’s knees nearly buckle from how scary this man is and how embarrassed he is of all the four minutes he probably spent with this stranger.

SACHIRO’s job as a vet sometimes makes him do really questionable shit (from an outsider perspective). once he had to ejaculate someone’s dog in front of their owner. uh huh... jack them off, for the sole purpose of examining the dog’s semen. he’s never felt such a wave of regret wash through his body during that whole procedure. it didn’t help when the owner was looking at him mortified, nor the fact that it took such a long time.

OIKAWA does this thing were he shows up unexpectedly behind iwaizumi and slaps his ass. everytime he does it iwa always hits him back (but not the ass). today he learnt his lesson when he mistook a stranger for iwa and slapped the guys ass from the moon and back. when i tell you just how quick all the blood drained from oikawa’s body when the man turned around— you can hear a bag of chips fall at the other end of the aisle and it’s the iwa, who had to witness that whole ass-slap event.

ARAN is gonna knock the shit of the miya twins one day, he swears to god. they sent him a mysterious video during his morning walk, where he stopped at a busy street. it starts off quiet, so he goes to turn the volume up full blast. damn video suddenly started blaring ‘lick my pussy and my-’ please... he’s shaking. passerby’s are looking at him with distaste. aran’s now flushed from embarrassment and running towards the miya house. you can guess what happens next.

BOKUTO walked into the wrong house. spent a whole ten minutes rummaging around the kitchen because his friend said to “make yourself comfortable, i’ll be on my way.” little did this man know that there’s a whole family upstairs waiting for the cops to arrive because they think it’s a robbery. poor bokuto, dragged out of the house by some cops but had no idea what was going on. man was literally just vibing— thinking he was in his friends house.

OSAMU swore this size pants still fit him (hint: it doesn’t). he’s walking through the snack section of the store, lightly limping because damn his dick can’t breath. his truth is tested when he goes to pick something off the lowest shelf and his pants literally go, ‘let er rip.’ fabric tore, and what’s worse is that he was wearing onigiri undies. osamu goes to check if there’s anyone else in the aisle and there is— a group of underclassmen girls from his high school.

KUROO tried to make his chemistry presentation more interesting by putting in jokes. he thought they were funny; kenma even huffed a breath. kuroo’s at his third joke by now and literally no one has laughed. not a single one. except for kuroo himself, who’s awkwardly laughing in a dead-silent room. man was embarrassed. other people are getting second-hand embarrassment by the way they avoided eye contact with him. he vented to kenma later only for kenma to say, “it wasn’t funny. it was just stupid.” poor kuroo.

SUNA accidentally connected his bluetooth to the bus. you know, the one that drives all of inarizaki to their games. wanna guess what the fuck he might’ve been listening to? it’s porn. he’s watching porn in broad daylight. suna doesn’t realize what the issue is until he goes to turn up the volume and notices that the sound is off. he take his airpods off and that’s when he hears pure moaning sounds blaring inside the bus. everyone’s laughing— except for kita and their coach who’s still outside. mf calls himself lucky for that.

[dazaiaiko]

helloo! i hope you are well, eating well and staying hydrated . i have a request for dazai if you dont mind

soo basically dazai asks y/n out on a date and genuinely wants y/n to be his but y/n doesnt think that. they think dazai is just gonna play with them and leave them (y/n is a little insecure). because they think that, they seem a little off and a little angry and dazai confronts them about it and reassures y/n that he genuinely likes them.

sorry if thats long, feel free to change it or add anything you want to this!! have a great day take care ❤️❤️💕

hey anon!! Thanks for ordering! here you go!~ and thank you (/ω＼*) i will stay hydrated for sure. The request was a really interesting one so I tried to do as best as possible.

(I did for fem reader since i do those usually but if it is something else you wanted don't hesitate to tell me if you order a fic again!)

Characters : Dazai x fem!reader Warnings : Not really

~A REAL DATE~

✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧

✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧

Sunlight was dripping into the break room of the ADA like warm honey and illuminated your skin with a radiant glow.

"How could you manage to look so perfect even when you were just relaxing with a book in hand?" the man asked himself. The man in question is none other than the frivolous Dazai Osamu, the charmer and breaker of hearts and your "supposedly" best friend.

Of course though, by the thoughts of this man he always wanted to be something a bit more than that by trying to give you subtle hints, which entailed hugging and holding hands spontaneously, praying inwardly for you to get the hint? But honestly you never did. You always brushed them of as the antics of a flirt. Seeing him fool around so much had made you immune to the thoughts that he might even be a little bit interested in you.

But today? Today he was going to ask you out on a date. Today he was going to break that wall.

Among the colleagues almost everyone knew of his crush and love-sick gaze on you and Yosano never left any moment not to tease him about it. She even tried to make you blush by throwing flirtatious and dirty comments here and there to make him angry. But that would be no more after today.

He went up to you with his usual bright smile and took your hand gently in his hands. Already used to his daily dramas you just rolled your eyes at him and continued on with your reading. Not paying him any attention you stayed immersed in your book. But inwardly? You were still not used to it. Who could get used to that face and expression but you never wanted to hurt yourself by thinking that an enigma such as himself would like you in the least.

You never knew if his intentions to flirt with you were only up to that point or something more. It was so damn frustrating sometimes. Trying to cover your expression you just asked in a nonchalant, "Hmm....what? i swear if it is another one of your suicidal idea i am out. Just ask the waitress downstairs."

No matter how much it hurt to push your crush towards another woman you just said it out of spite.

"Belladonna! How harsh! So early in the morning! And...how about we talk about those suicide techniques over lunch tomorrow?" He then got closer to your ear and whispered, "Won't you like to sit down with me for some lunch and talk about things....?"

Dazai could literally feel his own heart beating steadfastly in his chest. Were you going to be dense this time too? No matter how much this guy liked to be in control he could never deduce your answer just from your facial expressions. Those few seconds before you answered felt like eternity to him. Painful Eternity.

"Uh....sure? Its a date then........." You were red in the cheeks from the seductiveness from his voice just moments ago and wondered if he noticed. But what could this poor man notice when he himself was beet-red and in shambles from your answer.

"huh? ah yes! its a date!!! See you then Bella."

His hesitance in answering made you wonder if it was really a date or just a normal meet-up. Well you had to go since it was him who had asked you to.

✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧

"Hey y/n!! Up here!!"

You looked up to find yourself eyeing the most dazzling man you had seen, dressed in white shirt and denim jacket with casual black pants Dazai looked so handsome you could feel others in the street eyeing him and you. You were dressed in a white sundress to fight the summer heat with a simple design, hair kept half braided and open while carrying a small basket with both hands.

You both had decided last night that going to the cherry blossoms would be the best so here you were outside the biggest cherry blossom garden in Yokohama. You went up to him and handed him the basket,

"Here hold this, Let me tie up my hair. its too damn hot."

"I am afraid to say I may be the reason for such hotness you are feeling. I am afraid I will have to live with this disease for as long as I am alive."

You both laughed at his obnoxious comment and moved on to find a perfect spot.

All the time you were talking he seemed to be in a daze looking at your form. He seemed so immersed in you that even when you were not talking he just looked at you with such gentleness that it had you imagining things.

You waved your hand in front of him to break him out of it, "YO!! what happened?"

"oh...uh nothing.. you look beautiful belladonna.", you stopped for a moment. Whenever it was remarks like these he was always so hyper and over dramatic but today he held sincerity in those hazel orbs.

You averted your gaze and blushed profusely at the thought of him thinking of you as such.

"Ahem! Anyway lets go..."

"yup!"

✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧

"The spot is perfect for the scenery gazing!"

"I agree. After all anything I choose is perfect at its worst! Now here you go you must have been hungry with all the walking"

'Thank you!"

"Oh my look at that woman over there! She looks so hot in that dress. Would she-"

"Commit suicide with you? Why don't you go and ask her instead of commenting about her beauty." Here he goes again. He could never stop saying those even when he was on a date with you, could he?

It was supposed to be about you and him not some random woman.

"I should, shouldn't I?" He winked at you.

The audacity.

"Yeah sure... Um I just remembered I have to cut short this meeting actually....I had promised a friend for a meet up. He is supposed to meet me at the station for some work. I am really sorry Osamu I have to go now."

"You never told me a friend is coming and 'he' has some work with you?" He knew you were lying but why? Did you not enjoy time spent with him? and you suddenly started calling it a meeting rather than a date? It baffled him to no end about your behaviour.

You got up to turn around and leave but he stopped you by your wrists, "Hey! What happened all of a sudden?"

"I said I have some work to attend to, Can't you tell?" You scoffed at him.

"Is it something I did? Please let me know....."

So now he realised?

Something snapped in you this time. You had been bottling every feeling you had about him in you but were afraid you would get hurt in the process so you continued to cover it all up. But your patience had thinned out. You had to get it out of yourself now. Even if it meant endangering your friendship with him. You had to move on.

"You wanna know what's wrong Osamu?! Lets assume you like me but then I go around declaring how every other man would be such a "good" fit for me. If I would go around flirting with them and asking them for dates! Would you feel secure about your feelings for me?! You asked me out for a date yesterday right? Hell! I don't even know if it was meant to be a date or not! But i still came for that tiny slimmer of hope you would confess....perhaps? But you know what? Here you went on admiring all the other women! Your hints, do you think I don't notice? But as soon as i start thinking there might be something between us you go on asking that waitress downstairs for double-"

"Belladonna....I never meant too.....And its not an assumption to say I like you...I do like you. A lot"

"huh?"

"I- I really do....It's just that I flirt with people as a fun past time. I never mean any of it and if you want I will try my best to stop. I really want you to be mine, to be my girlfriend, best friend and lover. I can drop everything when I am with you so please can you give me one chance to fix whats wrong with me? I promise the waitress downstairs and any other women won't receive over compliments and it will only be you who gets those."

"And if its true that you really like me Can we go for a real date next time?"

You stayed quiet for a while before answering,

"Only if you promise to never do that again..."

"I won't. I will only make sure to compliment you before its you who turns red all the time instead of anyone else."

You both broke out in a laugh at the same time. You both needed this outburst for the wall to finally break between you both.

Suddenly you both heard claps from all around. It seemed you both had forgotten you were in a public park. The people all around had listened in to the fight and were all whooping around cheering for you both.

You blushed at the thought of shouting in front of so many people. Taking the advantage of the situation Dazai pulled you in his jacket and kissed you gently on the lips shielding you from others. And then continuing to hide your face in his chest he kept on giggling like a lovesick teenager.

✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧

"You remember that day Belladonna? I just have a doubt, were you trying to make me jealous by implying you were going with some other man to help him with something instead of being on a date with me?"

"Dazai!! Shh! Akari and Oda are sleeping! They might wake up. Speak softly." "Well Oda won't wake up he sleep like a hog. And Akari? Well She takes after me."

"Well we only have them today because I tried to make you jealous okay? So shut up and sleep."

"Well I only have that fictional man to thank."

You only softly glared at his comment and laid your head on his chest before drifting off to sleep yourself.

✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧✿✧

Hey annon! I hope it fulfils your order. You owe this chef some sleep tho (￣o￣) . z Z (JK)

Requests: [OPEN]

[RAMBLE CORNER]

Tagging; @nullified-kiss + here is the taglist to join

just comment on the taglist and you will be added to the future updates

[suganovakawa]

hi! i found ur blog through saudade and was like!! this the good kush! and earlier i was scrolling through ur blog and saw the jealous hcs and suga's was so accurate 😭 i can totally see him being all smiley and passive aggressive like 'do you want something haha? >:)' anyways! can i request reader being sad and doubting their relationship with noya and tanaka (separate) bc they always talk abt kiyoko and how beautiful she is and how they feel abt her? thank u so much, pls take care of urself!!!

the potential this one has OMG yes i am on it 🥺 u better be taking care of yourself too , anonnie !!!

𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 .

karasuno boys remind you that you’re always going to be number one in their eyes, no matter what !

— check out my masterlist !!

we all know kiyoko is a goddess , but it’d be nice if your boyfriend could give you some of that love too , y’know ? let’s see how these two make up for giving kiyoko too much attention .

a / n : YALL . THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS THATS SO HARD FOR MY BRAIN TO REGISTERSJFJJDJFJD AHHHHH ILY GUYS SO MUCH 🥺💞💘💓💓💘💞💘💞

also yuu’s came out really really long so do be prepared for that — ryu’s isn’t as long because he praises kiyoko the same way yuu does , so there’s no need to repeat everything fjjdndjsjd

— ask to be part of my gen taglist !

taglist : @yams046 @janellion @avylee

yuu nishinoya

yuu has bunches of love to go around , believe me

but sometimes , it really doesn’t seem that way , y’know ?

you knew even before your relationship with the guardian deity that he was a simp for kiyoko ; how he also fell for you was even a surprise for you

but noya definitely does try and show you that you that you have a special place in his heart , even if he gawks over the team manager at times

but when his appreciation for kiyoko gets out of hand , oh it really gets out of hand

the first time it happened , you were completely shattered — however , you weren’t sure how to even handle a situation like that

everyday of just — “ kiyoko ” this , “ shimizu ” that . . . it was a never ending cycle of yuu going on and on about how the karasuno team manager was just so perfect at everything she does , that she was the paragon of beauty and so forth

and while you held no grudge against kiyoko — hell , she made it very clear that she had absolutely no interest in yuu . like , multiple times — seeing him gush over her so much made you feel self conscious in yourself

you were his significant other , weren’t you ?

so why wasn’t he treating you that way ?

it came to a point where you just didn't say anything the moment yuu brought up kiyoko . there was no point in trying to stop him or changing the subject , because once he was on a roll ; he was on a mf roll

god , even the first years could see that noya was giving kiyoko more attention than you

the only one besides noya who didn't notice this was tanaka , who was just as smitten over kiyoko as the libero was

and everyday , it was the same old topic ; didn't they have anything else to talk about ?

" DUUUUUDE . YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENED . "

" WHAT , BRO ? "

" KIYOKO PICKED UP MY PENCIL FOR ME WHEN I DROPPED IT IN FRONT OF HER TODAY . I AM NEVER USING ANOTHER PENCIL AGAIN . "

" DAMN , YOU'RE SO LUCKY ! I NEED TO GET HER TO DO THAT FOR ME TOO "

and your snapping point : yuu choosing to help kiyoko clean stuff up instead of walking you home after practice

was this his way of breaking up with you ? whatever it was , you couldn't handle it anymore . just seeing yuu give so much of his time to kiyoko was heartbreaking for you ; you even began to question if you really were a significant other figure to nishinoya

you stopped showing up to practice

and shortly after , you avoided and ignored the second year as a whole

it took about less than two days for noya to realize that you weren’t around for him

and even worse — you seemed to have no interest in talking to him when he did try and approach you

uh oh , he really messed up now

he approached the third years with his head hung low , wanted advice on how to talk to you again

and they were willing to help , of course ; but not before giving him absolute hell for not noticing his own actions sooner

it took three tries to get you to talk to noya again

daichi approached you first after class , wanting you to come back to practice again ; you politely told him no , and before he could press on further , you hastily turned heel and walked away

second attempt was suga and asahi , suga was more straightforward with his attempt at bringing you back , while the other was just there mainly for support ; he explained that noya felt apologetic and wanted to make it up to you , but you countered with “ if he really was sorry , he’d come himself . not make you do it for him . ” and you left

third time’s a charm — kiyoko was the final person to confront you

you were still upset , and she understood that completely — she explained that even with noya’s , ehem , worship over her , he still cares about you deeply ; he just gets overly excited and doesn’t know how to control it

and she added that there was no practice due to ukai being out that day , but yuu was still waiting for you in the gym

you finally gave in , walking slowly to see kiyoko’s words speak for themselves — there he was , sitting against the wall with his eyes staring intently at the ground

“ yuu . . . ”

his head popped upwards the moment he heard your voice , scrambling to his feet to sprint to you as fast as his two legs could take him

before you could say anything else , he jumped forward and pulled you into the biggest hug he could offer ; shakily , you hugged back with the same intensity , burying your face in him as he just continued to squeeze you as if you’d disappear if he dared let go

he began to blubber all sorts of apologies — about how stupid of a boyfriend he was , that he should’ve noticed he was hurting your feelings sooner , that he shouldn’t have been fawning over kiyoko

he would’ve continued , but you shut his mouth with a finger , smiling softly as you shook your head

“ it’s okay , i forgive you . it just . . . hurt my feelings , is all . i know you like kiyoko a lot , so i didn’t want to — ”

“ no , y/n . you’re my s.o. , i shouldn’t have been like that . you’re my priority , not kiyoko . she used to be , but not anymore . i know that now , and that will never happen again , i promise . ”

and believe me , his redemption went all out

he'd walk you to and from school , catch up with you after every class , walk you to lunch , compliment your clothes and remind you of how much he appreciates you having in his life - kiyoko basically became nonexistent to him after that

tanaka didn't seem to mind - now he had the manager all to himself KDKSKKD

once in a while he gets caught up again , but this time he's more wary of your feelings ; if he sees that your mood has changed even a little bit , he'll ask you if he's too much , and then he'll forget about kiyoko again

yuu definitely has a long way to go until he's a perfect boyfriend , but he'll dedicate himself to make sure you know that you're irreplaceable in his eyes

ryuunosuke tanaka

something tells me ryu would definitely be more attentive than yuu , but he's still a total simp for shimizu

the moment you stop coming to practice , oh he notices right away

i imagine it going the same way as noya — him just talking everyone’s ears off about kiyoko’s a goddess , that she deserves all the best things in the world . . . all while you’re right there next to him

it’s a stab in the heart , to put it lightly ; you can only take so much before it just downright hurts

you’ve tried to talk to tanaka about it — he’ll brush you off with a “ hey babe ! ” with a quick kiss to the forehead / cheek before running off to practice again

so naturally , you felt defeated , and could only defend yourself — your heart — by not going to practice anymore , as well as just avoiding him as a whole

oh boy , did tanaka feel like an absolute failure of a boyfriend

“ y/n was here at school today . . . why didn’t they show up for practice ? they’re usually here , helping set up the net before standing next to kiyoko ”

tsukishima will probably be the one to retort back to him — you are his senpai , and he noticed how dejected you were , the more ryuunosuke ignored you for the team manager

“ oh , y/n decided not to show up today . someone decided they were gonna be a better boyfriend , and not fawn and drool over someone else like a dweeb . ” tsukishima was a jerk , yes , but he hated that tanaka was just so blatantly ignorant to you ; you didn’t deserve that at all and he knew that

“ WHAT ? Y/N WOULD NEVER — ” his voice dropped as his eyes widened in realization , “ oh my god , i’ve been neglecting my own s.o. for kiyoko . . . ”

it was an awkward silence , the third years didn’t know if they should berate him or comfort him of his realization , the second years were feeling awkward AF ( especially yuu ) for not telling him sooner , and the rest of the first years weren’t exactly very well-versed in the romance department so they had absolutely no advice for the wing spiker

even ukai was confused that you weren’t there as he walked in “ where’s y/n ? they said they’d help me with — ”

a bunch of people giving him the “ NO NO NO NO NO ” signal as he finally lays eyes on ryu , keishin understanding that something must’ve happened

tanaka was not doing well that practice , too side tracked and too upset with himself to focus properly

it came to the point where daichi had to pull him aside , and give him a stern talking to

“ listen here , tanaka . i know you now understand how stupid you were in being so overly obsessive over kiyoko with y/n always standing right there , and simply , you are the one who needs to make things right with them . you should wait until tomorrow though , so you have time with them . they’re not the type of person to hate so easily , especially if it’s you . have this be a valuable lesson , and i hope you remember how important of a person y/n is , to us , and to you . ”

tanaka had a whole epiphany with daichi’s speech — damn right , you were his . so why did he need to simp over kiyoko , when he had an amazing s.o. already by his side ?

with the team’s permission , tanaka requested to miss practice the next day — he promised he’d make up for it the following day , he just wanted to spend more time with you and make up for what he did

it wasn’t easy for him , coming to grips with his own foolishness as he approached you after class

“ y/n . . . i want to take you somewhere after school , if that’s fine ? ”

though you were hesitant in responding , you didn’t have the nerve to look away , nor run . “ but ryu , don’t you have practice today ? ”

he smiled sheepishly and shrugged , “ i got permission from the others to skip it today , i just have to work even harder to make up for it . ” taking you by the hand , he pulled you closer to him “ besides , nothing is more important to me than treating my beloved s.o. to something special , especially after how poorly i treated you for the past few days ”

TANAKA IS GENTLEMAN MATERIAL OKAY , I STAND BY THIS ; A WHOLE CLOSETED GENTLEMAN BUT NO ONE WILL EVER GIVE THIS MAN A CHANCE none of y’all are ready for that conversation yet

but like woah , what happened to ryu ? going from kiyoko simp to this . . . it flustered you to the MAX

“ but in all seriousness y/n , i’m really sorry for how i acted . i shouldn’t have been paying so much attention to kiyoko like how i used to , now that i’m lucky enough to have you in my life . i want to try and make it up to you , starting with this badass cute date i’ve got planned for the two of us ! ”

you can’t help but smile as tanaka drags you out of the school , you’ve already forgiven him for just this precious moment alone

“ badass and cute aren’t words you’d use at the same time to describe something , ryu — ”

“ well , they are now ! ”

even kiyoko will be surprised at how he’s hardly even fazed by her at after today’s events ; ryuunosuke is a changed man , for you

you’ve got one of the biggest simps in haikyuu as your boyfriend , be prepared for how this mf is going to SPOIL . YOU .

[flatstarcarcosa]

a night out

(i’m not bothering to invent new wrestling stuff just as a background lore thing for this so yes i’m being lazy and using current day rosters shut up)

******

“vega, you know anything about wrestling?” zaeed asks, coming to lean against james’ weapons bench. james frowns.

“not really,” he says. “never was my thing. i’m more of a ufc guy, myself.” zaeed clicks his tongue.

“well,” he sighs. “goddamn it.”

“esteban does, though,” adds james, gesturing across the shuttle bay. “didn’t know you did.”

“i don’t,” zaeed says flatly. “reese does, and there’s something going on on the citadel that we might able to swing by. figure they should get a night out, with everything going on.” james laughs.

“and you’re, what, not sure if it’s the right one or something?” he asks. “here i thought you were like the expert on all of reese’s interests.”

“do you know how many things cycle through that brain of theirs on a damn near daily basis?” asks zaeed, a bit sharply. “just because i know to engage with them when they’re focused on something doesn’t mean i filed away every little detail right now, given the whole goddamn war we’re in the middle of.”

“hey,” james holds up his hands defensively. “easy, man, i was just fucking with you.”

silence.

zaeed sighs, runs a hand down his face.

“i guess i’m just-”

“don’t worry about it, man,” says james. he gives zaeed a pat on the shoulder. he’s been able to figure there’s pieces to the puzzle of his relationship with reese that he’s missed out on, and tucks ‘don’t make jokes about it’ away in the back of his mind for the future.

“thanks.” zaeed pushes away from the bench, and stops at the back of the shuttle. steve is bent over, half inside an engine compartment with a welding torch in his hand. zaeed wraps his knuckles against the metal to get his attention.

“oh,” says steve. he extinguishes the torch. “haven’t seen you down here much. what can i do for you?”

“you like wrestling?”

steve blinks.

“uh. well, yeah,” he says slowly, casting a glance across at james. james gives him a grin and a thumbs up, and plops down on his weight bench with a pair of headphones in his ears. “can i ask why?”

“i’m just trying to make sure this thing coming to the citadel is the same shit reese likes before i end up sitting through five and a half hours of it,” he says. “i never remember the names of any of these jackasses when they’re rambling about it.”

“oh,” says steve. he relaxes a little. “yeah, sure. what company is it?”

“jesus, this is damn near ring side,” says reese as they wade through the crowd.

“actual ring side was sold out,” says zaeed. he gestures at their seats and plops down in one. reese sits next to him, slipping their leg through the strap on their bag and sliding it underneath.

“yeah those always go first,” they say. zaeed hums and cracks his beer open. they fall silent for a moment, looking between the flashing lights of the titantron and the rest of the crowd filling in. “we don’t have to waste time on this, you know.”

“we might all be fucking dead this time next year,” zaeed says. “one night out isn’t gonna accelerate that any goddamn quicker.”

“well i suppose thats-- steve!” reese chirps, cutting themself off. cortez looks up and offers a wave as he threads down the aisle and takes the seat on the other side of zaeed. “what are you doing here?”

“oh, you know,” he says, shrugging. “commander keeps telling me to take shore leave when the rest of us do, so.”

“i didn’t know you liked wrestling!”

“i don’t just only like shuttles,” he says. reese narrows their eyes.

“but you do just happen to have a seat right next to us,” they say. steve opens his own beer, and glances between them and zaeed.

“funny how that worked out, huh?” he asks, almost nervously.

“wait,” reese looks at zaeed. “did you buy steve a ticket because you had to go bother him about wrestling before you bought ours?” steve makes a show of feigning more interest in his drink than necessary. knowing what he does of zaeed’s penchant for arguments and a short temper, he can’t help the uncomfortable feeling that drifts over the three of them.

“yep,” zaeed says flatly. steve chokes on the mouthful of beer. he wasn’t expecting a casual admission. “no sense wasting money to listen to you lecture me about ‘outlaw mudshow bullshit’ or what-goddamn-ever.”

reese is quiet for a moment. 

“aw, that’s actually really sweet,” they say.

“oh, don’t start,” says zaeed. “we’re not here for-”

he gets interrupted by a brief second of microphone feedback as someone below slides into the ring and begins to greet the crowd. halfway through their welcome speech, drums begin blaring through the speakers.

“YOU THINK YOU KNOW ME?” joins it a second later, and is all it takes for reese to jump up and start yelling.

“you would like edge, wouldn’t you?” asks steve.

“and you don’t?” counters reese.

“well, i mean, sure it’s a good angle but he’s one of the nastiest heels for a reason, i gotta have more than just that to like someone,” says steve.

“i do to, i have eyeballs,” they say. steve rolls his eyes.

“and that’s all that matters for a wrestler, that they’re sexy?” he asks. reese cocks their head.

“you agree he’s sexy,” they say.

“wh- no!” steve stammers. “that’s not what i-”

“PLEASE repeat your last sentence for the court, mister cortez,” reese says, voice raised to be heard above the crowd, “so that we may properly gauge your sentence for horny jail!”

zaeed snorts into his beer and shakes his head as the argument between the two continues. the roar of the crowd and pulse of the music gradually fades into the background, and when reese looks over after the first match to find him asleep in his seat, they set his drink aside before it ends up in his lap and leave him to it. 

cortez nudges him awake during the last intermission before the main event, and an hour and a half later the three of them find their way back to the normandy dock. reese is wearing a new shirt and hoodie and carrying folded cardboard cutout of some jackass or another that zaeed clearly lost the argument about buying; something about a returned baby varren from the year before.

“hey,” steve says as they wait on the airlock to cycle. “that was nice. thank you.” the airlock hisses open and reese darts out, hollering for joker about having found him an extra co-pilot.

“frankly, it wasn’t for you,” says zaeed. “but you’re welcome.”

“oh, i know,” says steve. “but i think i needed a night out, too, regardless.”

zaeed quirks an eyebrow, and gives him a handshake before turning towards the bridge to begin yelling about how ‘that fucking thing isn’t staying up here’. steve hovers for a moment, listening to the way zaeed’s intrusion on the argument causes joker to change his stance from agreeing that the cutout isn’t staying on the bridge, to now insisting it wouldn’t be bad for morale after all. 

he chuckles a little, and makes for the elevator. shepard steps out when the doors open.

“hey, steve-” the commander stops mid greeting. “do i even want to know what the yelling is about?”

“probably not,” says steve. he hits the ‘close door’ button on the elevator, and grins as shepard stops short of being able to squeeze back in. tomorrow, the normandy shoves off and the war will resume.

tonight, they can handle the battle of the bridge.

[jojoboisimagines]

Johnny Joestar x Reader :: Wait for It :: Chapter 3

Previous chapter. Next chapter

Summary: Gyro is hospitalized, and now Johnny has no one to turn to. That is, until a former female rider shows him a little compassion.

.::.

"Firstly,” Johnny started. “I think I would remember a face like yours. Especially if I so-called ‘ruined’ you.” He paused for a moment, his brows furrowing at a thought. “Unless you're a girl I slept with, then I can’t really do much about that.” There had been plenty of flings the boy had in the past where he couldn't even remember their names or faces, just one detail that stuck out to him. Regardless, this chick wasn't ringing a bell on that front either.

"Tch." You sneered. Of course he didn't remember you. Why would he?

"County race. All the way back in Kentucky."

That statement had sparked his interest. He hadn't met someone from that far back since he left from there.

"I had my horse, Violet. Practically my whole family was there, cheering me on. They thought I was gonna make it big as a horse rider one day. Just if I beat this race...this one race, I'd qualify." Your head was uplifted and your eyes were closed, as if you were there all over again.

.:::.

"Five more minutes until the race starts!" The announcer's voice crackled through the speaker.

People were still gathering in their seats, some just arriving and others getting concessions for their families. Some kid had already dropped their lollipop on the ground from where you could see. It was a good crowd, more than you'd usually see in the races you participated in. You wondered why, but it didn't matter, they were all gonna see you win and be cheering wildly. Thats what you were here for.

You were prepping your horse, mother adamantly by your side making sure everything was in check.

"Do you need me to adjust your saddle? How do your boots feel?" Her questions kept coming one after another. You'd simply nod at whatever she was saying and correct her if she assumed something was wrong. That woman checked everything as if the damn horse would explode with you on it if you weren't careful enough.

"Two minutes!"

After more affirmations from her that you were going to be great, she finally retreated back to the stands. Thank god, you thought. It was finally time to get down to business.

You proudly mounted your horse, riding up to the starting line. Looking to the other side to get a glance at the other racers, you see some younger than you, some older.

It didn't matter, they would all be in your dust soon.

Or maybe that kind of thinking is what led to your downfall.

…

Everything after the race started was a blur, you genuinely can't remember.

'Damn, the other guys pulled ahead way too fast!'

'Please, let me catch up, I have to catch up, I can't lose this!'

Even your horse's hooves trotting across the firm ground became inaudible.

You were falling behind, bad. Way too bad.

By the time the race ended, you were practically numb. How could it have went that badly? You practiced hard, didn't you? You've beaten people who had similar racing styles before, what was different here?

The soundless yet somehow loud blank noise echoing through your brain turned off for a moment, just to hear the results of who had actually won.

"And first prize goes to…Johnny Joestar!"

The crowd went absolutely ballistic over him. They loved him. Your crowd...

You wish the horse exploded instead.

.::.

"Hold on a second, a county race?"

The man's voice brought you back to reality. You had touched the side of your eyes, feeling the wetness from them. Maybe it was better that you stopped there.

"Do you have any idea how long its been since I've been in one of those? What year was that? How old were you?" Johnny's tone somehow sounded both confused and accusatory.

You bristled up at him. Those were the questions he had? "It doesn't matter when, Joestar. Ever since that day, my life has been a living hell."

He sat there, waiting for you to go on. You supposed an explanation why was at least in order.

"No one ever actually believed in me. That was my one chance to prove that I could be better than what people expected of me. And I blew it. My father wanted me to quit horse riding, he was the worst of them all. I had to keep my passion a secret since then. I trained and trained until my knuckles turned white...but I knew I would never get that opportunity again. Horse riding was my life.." The tears finally started trickling down your cheeks. You hated yourself for it. Letting yourself be vulnerable in front of him.

Johnny didn't know how to respond. He could easily go with 'That's your problem, not mine' but he knew what it was like to deal with a shitty father. That just didn't seem... appropriate to respond with right now. Yet he didn't want to utter an apology either. Truth be told, he wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry about any of the races he had won back then.

"How does that relate to now though? You gonna get revenge on me or what?"

You wiped your tears, giving him a peeved glance. "I'm too mature for "revenge", Johnny Joestar."

A sentiment he wished Diego shared, honestly. He felt a sense of relief when you said that, yet the room was still engulfed in a tense atmosphere.

"Besides, you've already done this to me twice. I...ran away from home to join this stupid Steel Ball Run race, and guess who's dumbass face and name I had to see right at the top rankings?"

Now things were starting to make more sense.

Yet every answer you gave him left him with more questions. "Are you still in the race? How'd you get all the way here?"

"Of course I'm still in the race..Until I eventually decide to forfeit." You face was completely dry now, looking downward with a somber look in your eye. "Of course it doesn't matter who's horse is the fastest in this race, it's all about survival. But I'd rather just...stop while I'm ahead. My parents will be less mad if I come home now than wasting my time with however long this race is gonna last."

Another pause from Johnny. He wanted to convince himself you were being nothing but annoying to him, yet he couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for you..

He blinks, not looking you in the eye. It was pretty hard to regardless, considering your eyes were glued to the floor. "You sure you wanna quit?" The Kentuckian asked with genuine curiosity.

You nod.

"Well, with that attitude, you might as well." He added. "This ain't the kind of race you join in for sport. Before you know it you'd be sleeping on rocks wondering how your life got to that point."

You give no response for a minute. You were making this really hard for him.

"Horse riding just isn't for me I guess."

The Joestar bites his lip. You were really trying him without even realizing it. What he was thinking really wasn't a good idea, but his 'to hell with it' side was slowly balancing out.

You turned around, no longer facing him, to go into the restroom and wash your face off.

Your footsteps creak against the floor until he can't take it anymore.

"I'll train you."

"..What?" Slightly turning back, you have a tired but incredulous look on your face, the puffiness of your eyes not making you look any less silly.

"I said I'll train you, alright? The way you said you just can't ride a horse for no reason pissed me off. Not trying to say you suck, but with a little bit of polish, anyone can get better, I'm sure of it." There was a determination in his eye you hadn't seen before. Not when you saw him racing back in Kentucky, or not even when he had won the trophy. Was he seriously offering to do this after all you just said?

You're completely facing him now, nodding almost too excitedly. There's almost a hint of a smile on your face, but you try to force it back with all your might.

"You'd better not change your mind halfway through. We're starting tomorrow after breakfast." He said more so in a commanding way than a supportive one. The man begins to wrap himself under the cover to turn in for the night, before turning his head back to you one more time.

"Hey wait, what's your name again?"

You can't resist the smile this time. It's a bit agitating he doesn't remember, but you cant hold it against him at this point.

"(Y/N) (L/N). It's finally a pleasure to meet you."

[barbedbetty]

Negan Imagine

Negan x OC

You’re new to the Sanctuary and Negan takes a liking to you.

Part 1

I hadn't been at the Sanctuary long. I had stumbled across a group one day led by Simon and they brought me back here. I volunteered to be a Savior, the perks weren't bad and I didn't have to be couped up in the factory all day.

I'd been here about a week, I still haven't met Negan. Apparently he was out doing the rounds on outposts, checking in on people and such. Simon was my mentor filling me in on things as we went.

"Negan should be back today, they radioed this morning." He said as we walked outside to check the perimeter.

"Okay." It didn't matter to me.

"Just be careful." I turned and tilted my head.

"Why?" I asked. Simon scratched the back of his neck and smirked.

"Well, he is kinder to girls like you." He said slowly.

"To Savior girls?" I was confused because all the girls were treated the same.

"Noooo." He looked confused. "To pretty girls."

I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my brain.

"Seriously, then I have nothing to worry about." I kept walking and thankfully Simon dropped it.

I knew I was kind of plain. I was barely over 5ft tall with an ass and curves but I was never the center of attention before. I used to worry about makeup and styling my hair. Nowadays I just tie my dark brown hair in a braid and thats pretty much it. I was proud of my eyes though, not like i could alter them if i tried, but my eyes are a really light brown almost gold with green and black spots. That was my best feature to me.

However since the apocalypse, i haven't gotten laid or had a guy i was interested around. I wasn't worried about Negan.

"Shitheads." I turned as Simons radio crackled.

"Yeah, boss?" He answered.

"Quarter mile out." The deep voice responded.

"Let's head to the gates."

All the Saviors came to the gates. When the truck pulled up we all dropped to our knees. Simon and I were up front since I had become his unofficial assistant.

"Simon!" A deep voice boomed.

"Hey, boss." Simon stood and shook the mans hand. "Everybody up!"

We all stood and I got my first look at Negan.

Damn.

He was good looking.

I looked back down at the ground so I could regain composure.

"Who's the kid?" Negan asked.

"Mae." I turned at my name and Negan was staring at me.

"Yes, sir." I answered quickly. Negan kept staring. I looked behind me and there wasn't anything there for him to stare at. I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Need something?" I asked flatly. Negan smirked.

"From you? Definitely. " he winked and I tried to remain stoic.

"She's the one I picked up last week." Simon said.

"Oh the badass with the bow?" Negan grinned and took a step toward me. "Let's talk in my office."

I followed Negan inside and he held the doors open for me throughout our walk to his office. He shut his office door behind me.

"Where'd you learn how to shoot with bow and arrow?" He sat behind his desk and propped his feet up.

"I shot competitively before the world turned." I answered.

"Do I bore you, honey?" He cocked his head to the side.

"No, sir. I've been diagnosed with resting bitch face. Please don't call me honey."

He smirked.

"Okay, doll." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not gonna leave here without a nickname, huh?" I said as i sat down. Figured i was gonna be here awhile.

"No you are not, sugar." He grinned and took his gloves off with his teeth. I won't lie, it was hot.

"Did we need to discuss something, sir?" I fidgeted with my fingers. I didn’t want to get kicked out of this place, I actually liked it here.

“I would like to take you on a run with me tomorrow.” He grinned and steepled his fingers together as he looked at me.

“What time?” I asked.

“Be ready for me at 6 am.” He winked and picked up a notebook.

“Yes, sir.” I stood and walked out.

I went to my room and got ready for the run.

As I sorted my clean clothes I thought about Negan. He was really cute and I did enjoy the way his eyes roamed down my body when he thought I wasn’t looking.

I put aside my tightest jeans and my red tank top. I wasn’t sure if something was going to happen between us, but either way I wanted to look good and at least tease him a little.

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V8E10 LiveThoughts

Well since its my birthday, Im kinda bored, and there’s little else for me to do right now since I dont get food till later, lets catch up on last weeks episode in anticipation of tomorrows. 

Huh, starting off with a epilepsy warning. Thats...a good sign I suppose?

Probably not the first part with the RT logo if I had to guess. 

Opening shot looks like something outta Gundam or Halo. Ironwood looking thoughtfully out as a Manta cruses by randomly. Plus; sunlight. Second day dawns...damn, have they really been fighting for that long?

Brings up the wonder of how long Remnants day actually is.

More Mantas. One REALLY close by. Damn those things are QUIET.

Those poor Specialists. You can just TELL they’re bracing for Ironwood to kick their ass. The doors also still busted which is a rather nice choice.

Also interestingly the female Specialist’s coat is missing the top two buttons of her partners. No clue why. 

Actual sweatdrop on the girl. What is it with RT suddenly making their characters have body liquid?

Ahhh Qrow kicking ass. Excellent. I would expect nothing less. 

Also FUCK THAT TABLE IRONWOOD.

Homie loosing his SHIT XD

Oh. Whats this...energy blast? Looks like its coming out of the- Oh. Thats Oscar isnt it.

...my God. ITS. BEAUTIFUL.

(Cries in military nerd)

I love how the music cuts out when it hits, just like what happens when a nuke goes off. 

The fact the Aces have to CARRY the bomb in BY HAND is good shit.

Massed gunfire in the back, and for a second you can see the true thoughts of all of the members. Oddly enough Hare’s got her exoskeleton activated. HYuh, weird, everyone else is hauling it bare. Elm, obviously, she beefy. I guess Marrow and Vine are just capable?

Also based on the shot we see just before the entire screen goes yellow and it looks like the blast literally yeets marrow onto his ass (I assume its Marrow based on the weapon visible in profile) it looks like Atlas is actually WINNING the fight, they’re pushing forward towards the whale.

Grimm; PURGED. ...how much you wanna bet this was a one off? No way to weaponize it. No way to make this more effective.

The music is...dissapointing, truly. If I had scored this, it would have some orchestral choir, a little bit of Requiem for a Dream style kinda thing. Strings and intense flutes and maybe a bit of drums.

Everything goes white for an ABSURDLY long time

Annnddd the sun comes up JUST as the whale starts disintegrating. HA! DIDNT PLAN ON THAT DID YOU SLUT!

CUE NEO CASUALLY SKIPPING THROUGH THE HELLSTORM OF GRIMM BITS WITH THE LAMP

Wait wheres the bomb... Also Marrow being the only one who cares amuses me.

Ahh dont worry about it buddy, its probably MAGIC explosive force, if it didnt kill you it wouldnt kill them. Huh, part of the whales skeletons still there.  I think its dead. GOOD

Wait how tall is Marrow? Hes like a good six inches taller than Winter here and shes wearing combat heels

“Target destroyed, good work.” Oh how casual. I love how he thinks that was the bomb.

And he goes right on to the new issue as if this is the end of the Grimm situation

Oh they still have the bomb.

Cargo ship, huh. I thought it came in on a Manta? Maybe Im miss-remembering.

AND now everyone in Atlas is going to start suffering fucking RUSTLUNG like in Gears.

Oh. Wait. Most of the whale’s still there. Fuckin hell IF THIS THING REGENERATES

Watts is so casual about all of this. I mean it makes sense but like, damn bro, flexibility.

Mmm, I think Cinders about to get brainblasted on by Watts. Please do so. TEAR HER A NEW ONE.

Interesting that Cinder thinks shes in command here. Im sorry, Cinder, but one of you has a college level education and the other WAS A FUCKING DISH RAG BITCH AND PROBABLY A STREET WALKER.

Guess which one is which.

Heels. Interesting. I dont like them but interesting.

Mmm. Long way down.

Watts: STARTS LAUGHING. I love it.

Dude is speaking FIRE. And TRUTH! THIS CATHARSIS...

I know she wont kill him and Im already cool with that cause this alone has put Watts well above her in my book of awesome villains. 

Hope we get to see more of him after this.

Hey he actually got THROUGH to her!

NOW SULK WHORE!

AWW SHES CRYING

Yeah of course the heroes are okay. RIP whoever was in that Paladin though. Hes probably dead.

Oh, the Bees 

Where the fuck did Emerald go

Oh there she is. Just completely shattered. YEAH HE DEAD FRIEND

Agricultrual area, okay cool, glad we finally got a name for this place

Red Line...huh. Like in Metro Speaking of, theres the Metro. No power, lights out. Apathies maybe?

You got a prisoner now.

Scrolls as a light source too huh? No flashlights? Also, pink purplish pettles...whats that one for, GAY THOUGHTS?

...kinetic energy. Really. Thats it. HOW IN THE FLAMING FUCK DOES THAT WORK?!

For those of you not in the know, kinetic is just...movement. Thats it. The ACTUAL energy that results from potential energy being used. 

Its just physics. And they’re treating it like some kind of superweapon.

Talk about a bit of an ass pull. And of course theres only a little bit left, because duh.

Guess maybe its got to do with movement and stuff. An idea for later.

Imagine if everyone looked over at Emerald and shes gone.

Nope, still there. And t hey’re about to hit the civilian shelter...yep, theres everyone.

OH MAN THEY DONT EVEN HAVE ANYTHING GOING ON. Literally just people chillin on the sides of the rails. Boy that must SUCK

Depression everywhere. Damn the Grimm are gonna come right in and mulch em.

And back to Ironwood. ANGRY DAD FACE.

Glad they call it a payload.

Its hard to tell but I think the image hes looking at is a casualty report. If I h ad ot guess blacked out equipment is losses.

Closer look says “Status Report in the upper left (upper right reversed) 

So...based on this, Atlas has lost at least 4 airships, 8 Mantas, four Paladins, a bunch of troops...actually the more I look at this I think each one represents a bunch of units because there is no way that this is everything they had.

I cant really see the middle parts but on the right I cna see “First Fleet” and “Second Fleet” Seconds got fewer Mantas attached oddly. No clue what that means. Same amount of Airships, but nothing else.

Cant really read the middle points. I THINK it says “First Batallion” at the top and then under it is split into (Something) A, B, and C. Might be Squad or something similar, the breakdown seems to be identical across it. 48 diamond markings and four Paladins. 

Based on a quick check of Google, I believe these are, in fact, Platoons, the subsets of a Battalion. The numbers are flexible on there but it seems to fit.

48 men to a Platoon with four Paladins as heavy fire support sounds like a viable mix. If thats the case Im just gonna hope this is all that was depolyed and Atlas has other forces elsewhere BECAUSE IF THEIR ENTIRE MILITARY IS LITERALLY ONE BATALLION OF TROOPS IM GOING TO RIOT.

The number more or less makes sense. 

On the far right theres some kind of power core readings, no indication of what those are, and I cant read the wording over it. Maybe for the pylons. 

Ironwood then convinently walks past a window showing intel on the whale. Annoyingly all of the important looking text is blurred out.

Theres Hares thighs again.

Third ones some kind of profile on Cinder, the image is recent as well. Fourth one...I think its a map of some kind of the impact zone, perhaps the area lost to it. 

“Watts is either incompetent, or betrayed us.” WHICH DO YOU THINK IS MORE LIKELY.

Looks at hand dramatically while contemlating loss.

Hare loosing her shit is awesome.  Also, nice shot of her shoes. 

Maybe you should have put more faith in your military instead of Huntsman idiot.  I guess this KIND OF explains why he wants to leave. He doesnt thinkt hey can win no matter what. 

The look on his face is...disheartening.  Dudes gone the same way as Lionheart. Shit.

Also interestingly, the picograms above his office door show the phases of Remnants moon, rotating from full and unbroken to shattered.

What are you planning Ironwood.

Ohhhh. SEE NOW SOMEONE FINALLY FUCKING GETS THE IDEA You want someone in this world to do something YOU PUT A GUN TO THE HEAD OF THIER LOVED ONES!

Winters not having none of it of course. 

Ohhh shes in for a SPANKIN NOW

I love how Hare throws her under the bus like that. 

FUCK THAT TABLE

Radar. REMNANT HAS RADAR.

MOTHER...FUCKING... HOW?! HOW DO THEY HAVE RADAR.

Suns fully up now. Interesting.

Also, canonizing it now; the mountain just behind Atlas in this shot is where Fortress Academy is. 

This one.

Hang on. SDC Freighters literally look like neutered... ... GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.

AGAIN! EVERYTHING IN ATLAS’S ARSENAL IS JUST SDC EQUIPMENT MADE INTO MILITARY FORM! FUCK. ME. SIDEWAYS.

WHY!? WHY IS EVERYTHING SDC MADE?!

LE SIGH

The crazy logic sit down thing is...weird.

Also, I see constellation on the floor of Ironwoods room. Looks like...chiron and Pisces. So why are Earth constellations on the floor of a Remnant building?

Damn, air cleaned the fuck up real quick. 

NEO YOU CHEEKY BITCH. THE RAISED PINKY FINGER

Yay, the teams reunited. NOW THEY CAN ALL DIE TOGETHER.

FAUNUS EAR WIGGLE

Rens first comment; wheres Nora.  Yay. Also, poor Ruby.

I like how the music just died.

I hear gunfire...

YEAH! Mantas for AA work, hell yeah! I know Im supposed to be mad but fuck that swarm attack! Oh its so good.

AND IRONWOOD WITH THE FUCKING POWER STANCE

MY GOD XD

I like how he specifically mentions Atlas’s technology like their technology is anything hot 

Seriously could you get any more fucking dramatic. I get the point but like, dude, your from Atlas, wasnt this shit BANNED in the Great War?

Boy, he really doesnt like Mantle does he. Then again at the same time, my hometown doesnt care for the homeless here. Its probably like that.

Not sure I follow your logic here. Hes probably bluffing. 

Oh wait Penny...right she never left the mansion, she got fucked over.

And thats it.

[missblogging]

B R O...

MA  H DUD  ES...

YOU KNOW HOW EVERYONES LIKE-

“HOW OLD IS ALL MIGHT ANYWAY?”

AND THEY’RE NOT EXACTLY SURE HOW OLD?

I THINK I FIGURED IT OUT!!!!

FUCKING DAVID SHIELD HELPED ME OUT!!!

First thing’s first, I am so sorry about my last post, I was on my last brain cell when I posted it, and I was too excited to do anything other than eat shit... (I mean metaphorically of course)

ANYWAY!!! THIS IS MY REDEMPTION AND APOLOGY!!!

SO! Look VERY carefully at this picture!

Yah see that? That’s All Might’s Data, now before you say, “But it’s future bullshit! How are we supposed to understand their technology if they’re from 20XX?” 

YOUR WRONG!!!!

This right here is his, like what it says on the top left corner, “Vital Logs,” Which all scientists/doctors take for normal check-ups or just to see any significant changes! For example, from top right to bottom right, All Mights RR also known as, Respiratory Rate, since he was using a mask to breathe in, states that he takes in 18.4 breathes each minute, the SPO2, or his Oxygen Rate, is a perfect 99.4, and his ECG/EKG, or Electrocardiogram, is 61.5/m.

Basically, All Might is as healthy as a horse with cancer... I mean- yeah his vital’s are something that any doctor or medical student can dream of- but who wants eternal bleeding and the removal of their internal organs? NOT THIS STUDENT!!!

And O O F that’s just the beginning my friends!!

This isn’t exactly that important? But at the same time, it is?? OKOKOK let me explain the relevance to THIS picture here.

Alright so, we’ve got the Whole Protein and the Albumin; and before you google search what the hell Albumin is unless you know how the body works, don’t bother cause that’s just gonna lead you to a hell of a headache.

So here goes nothing, The Albumin is the main type of Blood Plasma Protein that the body produces, mainly the liver’s job. While the Whole Protein is just how much protein is in his system.  However, All Might had to have some internal organs removed because they were damaged beyond repair no matter how many healing quirks there are in the world.

Now, let me tell you the results of the Whole protein levels, first of all. 

4.8 g/dl meaning 4.8 grams per deciliter. Which is really, REALLY bad, like, bro All Might are you ok??? This kind of also proves my “All Might has a quirk besides One for All” theory, but not by much to be honest, since he’s at this point of the story, unable to go back to his All Might form without vomiting blood, if anything, he could have been practicing using the “mystery quirk” the entire time, but NOPE!!! BODY MASS!!! MUST DEFEAT ALL FOR ONE!!! AVENGE MY SUCCESSOR!!! Ahem, anyway, back on track here- The normal levels for whole protein are supposed to be 6-8.3 g/dl. Which is exactly why I am questioning if All Might is ok- like fam yah need more beef or some shit like that...

The next thing I need to also confirm is the Albumin Levels. Which are 2.7 g/dl. The normal rate for that is 3.5-5.5 g/dl. So he’s... ok? Not really, he’s obviously below the rating, but not as bad as the whole protein levels were.

Fun fact about your’s truly: I’m actually not supposed to learn about these said levels unless I choose the Phlebotomy course at my school. I was planning on doing phlebotomy any way cause it was the most interesting course out of the six courses my school lets us choose, but my parents made me change my course options so instead of Pleb. as my first while Optomology is my second. It was downgraded while Opto was upgraded. So... I guess I’ll try getting my certification another way instead of the school providing it form me???

AND FINALLY THE MOMENT I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!!! THE THING THAT I’VE BEEN WANTING TO TALK TO Y’ALL ABOUT THE MOST!!!

ALL MIGHTS TRUE AGE!!!

LOOK CAREFULLY AT THIS PICTURE!!!! IT’S EVEN IN ENGLISH LIKE THE REST OF THE CHART!!!! IT’S THE REAL-DEAL!!!!

YOU KNOW HOW ALL MIGHT HIMSELF SAID THAT HE HASN’T EVEN TOLD DAVID AND MELISSA ABOUT ONE FOR ALL?? WELL, YOU’RE GOSH-DARN RIGHT HE HASN’T!!! 

TOP LEFT CORNER: S-POW ACTIVITY: ALL MIGHT HAD BEEN CALLING HIS QUIRK SUPER POWER, A CLASSIC NAME FOR A QUIRK LIKE HIS. 

CENTER OF THE IMAGE HAS A CLOSE UP TO THE CHART WITH A GREEN FLAG THAT SAYS SIX YEARS AGO, AFTER THAT, THE ACTIVITY BEGINS TO DEPLETE, INDICATING THE DISAPPEARANCE OF ALL MIGHTS QUIRK.

THERE’S EVEN A CLOSE UP OF THE DATA!!!

But what we’re going to REALLY look at is the dotted graph!!

Counting up all of the data needed, you can confirm that All Might is 43 years old at this time! BUT!!! THAT’S WHERE SOMETHING CLICKED!! NOT ONLY DOES THE MANGA CONFIRM THAT ALL MIGHT MET DAVID IN AMERICA! BUT, THE CHAPTER WITH ALL MIGHTS HISTORY AND BIO IS REVEALED!! ALSO REVEALING THE INFO THAT HE WENT TO AMERICA TWO YEARS AFTER THE INCIDENT WITH HIS MASTER!!! Blessings to Nana Shimura...

I’m going to use Midoriya’s & Melissa’s age as a reference as I have to be positively sure!! 

The only reason for doing so is because of the amount of data on the chart, which I realized after rechecking the data and realizing that it said 6 YEARS ago- not 23 XD SO! Double checking this again!

Ok, Midoriya is I’m going to say 15 during the I-Island incident. Before any of the shit that goes on during the recent chapters. So by getting rid of 6 years off of Mido’s life, he’s 9 (10 if he’s actually 16 during the incident but I highly doubt it). So let’s use the data above as our reference (like what we’ve been doing for the last few paragraphs). There is also the confirmation thanks to the paragraph that All Might was 18 when Nana had to leave him from this world. (I'm guessing that Gran was at least in his mid-30′s when this incident occurred).

So let’s use 20 as the starting age!!! All Might is 20 years Old at that time, which is also around the time that he meets David! Of course, I’m going to guess that the machine that All Might was hooked onto when they were checking vitals was probably made a year after meeting each other, so that’s 21 at the time. David is probably the same age as All Might, maybe a month or two younger/older. Now! Using Melissa’s current age and of course, getting rid of 6 years of her age, she’s 11. Using that as the number of years that pass by with All Might and David, that takes us to him being 31 years old by that time.

Of course, he’s been back in Japan by that time trying to hunt down All for One, so he’s probably missed Melissa when she hits 11 herself. And Midoriya’s hit 9 by that time as well. So we’re going to use his age at this time and on! All Might finally meet Mido at 14. So that’s adding 5 years onto the age chart. Making him 37. And of course, adding 2 more years if you want to get the exact amount since Midoriya is technically 16 by the time the exam with 1A and 1B hit (damn how many years is it just to finish their first year??? Isn’t that weird? I mean I understand Melissa since this all occurs in the US where, by the time you're a third year, your like 16-17 years old, I feel yah boo) makes him 39.

Of course, that's where I had his a roadblock, cause that didn't sound right. At all, so I decided to go back a bit and using the 9-year difference between the birth of Melissa and his age of 21. I had gotten him right at 30. THAT'S when I had added the 11 years, which had gotten me 41 years old. Then, using the years with Izuku (which is 5 years later), I had gotten him at 46. And that's just Izuku at 14! Adding the 2 years he now has, that gets our #1 hero at 48

All Might, the symbol of peace, is 48 years old. Let that sink in. 

Sweet Jesus Lord... I feel so brain dead after all of that, do you know how much research I had to do?? Not that much lol I had actually watched the Movie for the first time yesterday at like- Ass O' Clock. No joke, it was almost one by the time I had finished, then after that, I began my research and went to bed to finish, which I got to finish today after a few disturbances!!

Wow, is this what it feels like to be Midoriya for a day? It- it actually feels a little cool tbh, it's like I just had the freedom to word vomit all over Tumblr...

ANYWAY!! IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR INTO THE THEORY THAT COULD BE TRUE!! I THANK YOU AND HOPE THIS ACTUALLY MADE AT LEAST A LITTLE BIT OF SENSE!!! 

I... I think I need to make some kind of chart or something for this... eh- thats for me of tomorrow... 

Anyway, later!!!

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//Boys Like You

Okay, so this doesn’t exactly follow the Steve/Nancy plot of season 2 (or at least I don’t think it does) but, I really like it so I don’t care. Anyway! Enjoy! And yes, I am now becoming a Stranger Things stan account. Sweet Pea who? I only know Steve Harrington. (based off this song)

“And then she said it was all bullshit. Like our entire relationship and everything.” Steve is sat on your couch at 2am, sobbing into your chest. He turned up twenty minutes ago, tears flowing freely down his cheeks and a look of defeat on his face. 

You’d of course let him in, glad that your parents were out of town for the week. Ever since you’d known Steve Harrington, you’d followed him around like a lost puppy. Wherever he was, you were right by his side. Well, more behind him slightly, kinda in the background. There enough for him to notice you, but never enough, and usually when he needed you. 

You knew that you could get better friends, you were pretty, funny and smart. But there was just something about the brown-eyed boy with the brilliant hair that pulled you in and kept you hooked. So much so that by the time it was your senior year, you were madly in love with him, watching him pursue a girl that just didn’t seem that interested in him. 

However you were there to pick up the pieces, like you always were. And tonight seemed to be one of those nights. He’d been to Tina’s Halloween party, something that you weren’t invited to, by Tina or Steve for that matter. But you had other things to do anyway. You’d just been about to fall asleep when he knocked on the door, and now your trying your best to comfort him, even though the girl he was madly in love with, had just broken his heart and left him for another boy. 

“It’s okay Stevie.” You soothe, the nickname that you’d used for him since you could remember, rolled off your tongue like second nature and he smiled at the comfort. “She’s just drunk. She probably won’t even remember it in the morning.” 

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.” He sighs and you look at him sympathetically, running your fingers through his hair. There was only a few people that had the privilege of touching his hair, and you were one of the lucky ones. 

“Better. There’s always a tomorrow to talk things through and make things right.” 

“How did I get so damn lucky to have you as a friend?” He asks, wonder lacing his voice and you blush profusely. 

“Luck, I guess.” You shrug and he shakes his head, laughing softly. 

“Nah, it’s more than that. You’re the best thing in my life.” He says, and grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. He drops it before you even have the chance to comprehend what was happening and you can’t help but feel disappointment rise.

“Shouldn’t you be saying that to your girlfriend.” You roll your eyes. 

“Nope. Because I’m saying it to you. Y/n Y/l/n. You are the best thing in my life.” He repeats himself, but there’s something in his voice thats holding him back. You know he’s lying. You know it’s always going to be Nancy Wheeler, but for just one night you can pretend that he actually meant that. You know what you look like to him, you know what you are to him. You’re his childhood best friend that has followed him blindly and not minded being put in the background, just as long as she gets to hang around with him. 

“Sure I am.” You roll your eyes again. “You keep telling yourself that Harrington, I’m going to bed. You coming?” 

“Yeah.” He shrugs and stands up, holding his hand out towards you. You gladly take it and he pulls you up, rather aggressively. So much so that you fall slightly into his chest and he grabs your arms to steady you. You tilt your head up to look at him and he’s already smiling back at you. That signature Steve Harrington smile that has made every single girl in Hawkins High fall in love with him. 

“Steve?” You ask, breaking the silence. He hums in response, still staring down at you, a soft expression in his eyes that makes you melt. “How are you feeling?” 

“Much better after seeing you.” He replies and you giggle softly. The two of you stare at each other for a few moments longer, and you swear he’s leaning into you. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours, igniting a flame deep inside you. Steve Harrington is kissing you! Holy shit. You kiss back, just as cautiously, but his hands fall to your hips, pulling you closer to him and your arms wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. However he pushes you away from him, staring at you wide eyed and breathless. You’re looking back at him, also breathless and blushing, but your heart feels like its just been put through a lawn mower. 

“I’m so sorry.” He stammers and runs his hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have done that. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s fine.” You reassure him, taking a few steps towards him but he stumbles backwards and there’s another sharp pain shooting through your chest. The way he’s looking at you is as if you’ve just told him that there’s mythical creatures roaming Hawkins. He’s looking at you as if you’re a stranger. 

“I’m gonna go home.” He shakes his head and you reach for his hand but he pulls away. “This was such a huge mistake. I’m so sorry. “ 

“Steve.” You call after him, but he’s already out the door and down your drive. He can move fast when he really doesn’t want to be around someone. 

Tears fall freely down your face as you climb into bed. The covers are over your head, something you used to do as a child when you were upset. Usually if someone had said something mean to you, or if Steve had stolen one of your toys and refused to give it back (until his mother told him too). Now you’re just one of his toys, there when he needs something to keep him entertained and easily put back when ‘better’ is found. He’s always walked around like he could charm the birds from the trees, and he can. He charms you every time, tonight has proven it. 

And you fall for it. Every single stereotype. The Jock. The most popular boy in school. The boy that has a hidden softer side. Girl in love with her best friend. Oh wait, that was you. 

-------

The next day at school, Steve has been avoiding you like the plague. However, you manage to catch him at the gym. He’s playing basketball, however it looks like he’s been put on the bench for a while so you take the chance while you can. 

Sitting beside him on the bleachers. He doesn’t notice you at first, but once he does, you can see the disappointment settle in his eyes when he sees its you and not Nancy so you take a deep breath. 

“How are you feeling Stevie?” You ask and nudge him softly. The nickname leaves a bad taste in your mouth today. It doesn’t sound right. 

“Alright.” He shrugs and stares straight ahead at the game. 

“Why you been put on then bench?” 

“Hargrove.” He mutters. 

“Ah...do you wanna talk about last night?”

“No!” He replies loudly and you flinch. 

“Steve, we can’t ignore it forever. You’ve been avoiding me all day and I can’t deal with it. Just talk to me Stevie.” You force the nickname out this time and try to run your fingers through his hair, even though its kinda gross with sweat, but he pulls away. For a simple gesture, it stings like hell and you have to fight the urge to cry. 

“You just can’t help it Steve!” You shout gaining the attention of the basketball players. The game has stopped and the team are staring at the two of you. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks, running a hand over his face. 

“Are you being serious right now? You know, yesterday! At my house. Where we ki-” 

“Shhhh.” He shushed you, moving towards you quickly and glancing around the gym. Is he being serious right now? 

“Its how you were taught to love, and it’s shitty, but I still take it. You expect to keep a hoard of girls to follow you around. I always feel so lucky to hear your lines, just like the others do. But you pick us up when you and your girlfriend have a fight, and then drop us the next day when she’s sober and being nice to you again. You’re playing pretend Steve! When are you going to see that. There’s a name for boys like you-” 

“Oh yeah? And what is it!” He interrupts you and you raise an eyebrow. Before you have the chance to answer, Nancy’s voice rings through the hall and you sigh loudly.

“Steve?” She asks, a look of annoyance and confusion etched onto her face. He pulls away from you quickly and practically jogs to catch up with Nancy. They both walk out, leaving you standing alone. Again. 

“Fucking great.” You mutter before turning and walking the other way. 

In hindsight, some people would say that this was your own fault. Robin had warned you to not go there, when she caught you staring at him. The two of you had been paired up for some project when she was put in one of your advanced classes. And even though at the time you just rolled your eyes and laughed it off, your now thinking that the younger girl was onto something. 

Apparently you seem to love a nightmare, or at least you did. Actually who are you kidding, you still love him. You just can’t help it. Its gonna take more than this for you to get over him. 

-----

It’s been three days and you and Steve have avoided each other as if your life depended on it. Well, it was mainly Steve doing the avoiding but what can you do? 

You’re stood at your locker, Carol and Tommy talking about something that happened at another party you weren’t invited to, when they’re interrupted by Steve. He greets them and they make small talk for a few minutes before they start to bicker. You’ve busied yourself with your locker at this point, not wanting to be involved in any of their conversations. But when Nancy taps your shoulder you have no choice but to turn around and face them. 

“So, I heard about you and Steve.” She starts and your mouth goes dry. “About the argument you had the night of the party.” Of course. “And I want you to know that even though he would never admit it, he’s sorry. Aren’t you Stevie?” She smiles up at him and your vision blurs with tears. 

“Er, yeah.” He rubs the back oh his neck nervously. 

“Okay.” You nod your head. 

“Anyway.” He continues. “Me and Nance are back together.” He wraps an arm around her waist before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. A soft smile appears on her lips as she looks at him. The two of them start making out, meaning Tommy and Carol are shoving their tongues down each others throats before you can even say another word. Leaving you to lean against your locker awkwardly, and look anywhere but either in front of you or to your left. 

“Isn’t that great.” Nancy smiles brightly as she pulls away.  

“...yeah.” You force a smile. She seems to believe it, and the two of them start to talk to Carol and Tommy. 

And once again, you’re pushed into the background. 

part 2 part 3 part 4

[dreamingformuses]

my iron dad bingo! i requested it before i saw endgame, so the original one was really whumpy, so i changed some of the prompts myself ;) @irondadbingo i hope thats alright!
my first prompt is ‘nightmares’ 
read on ao3
@penis-parkerrr @ur-a-lizard-hairy @agib-2002
let me know if you like to be added to the tag list! (if i forgot you, i’m very sorry)

to set the stage: this is set post-endgame, but when tony did his thanos-killing snap, carol came in to help him because she is Super Powerful, and they kinda had a moment like in gotg 1. neither of them died, and all the dusted characters are back. “Hey, Peter?” Tony called. He could see him hunched over whatever he was working on across the table. 
“Hmm?” Peter answered, not even bothering to lift his head. 
“It’s getting late. And it’s a Friday, so if you want, you’re welcome to stay here for the night. As long as Aunt Hottie’s okay with it, of course.” 
“I thought we promised never to use Aunt Hottie again.” Peter put down his pencil and raised his eyebrow. “And where are Pepper and Morgan?” 
“Whatever. But text her, will you?” Tony said, and mimed typing on a phone. “There’s no rush to get to bed, of course. You know I’ll be here until at least two or three. And the lovely ladies are out of town, visiting Pep’s parents. So you don’t have to worry about wrangling Morgan to bed again.” Peter laughed ruefully. That was an experience he’d not soon forget. He then whipped out his phone and sent a quick message to May. She replied not long after. 
“She said yeah!” Peter shouted over the whirr of Tony’s drill. Tony flashed the okay sign, and they both continued on their projects. The webshooters’ release mechanism had gotten clogged up, so Peter was hard at work on a new formula that hopefully wouldn’t harden while it was still sitting in the holding chamber. Tony was busy banging out sheets of titanium alloy for his new and improved rocket boots. 
They stayed in the lab until well past the sun had set. FRIDAY had spoken up at around eleven, reminding Peter that it might be in his best interests to get to bed sooner rather than later. Peter just laughed, and said that he was too far into his equations to back out now. Nobody argued with him. It wasn’t until half past twelve that Peter had actually fallen asleep with his cheek on the lab table. Tony made the executive decision to carry him to bed, rather than have to listen to Peter complaining about how sore his neck was tomorrow. When they got into the elevator, Peter went from completely dead to the world, to consciousness enough to stumble the rest of the way to his room. 
Tony helped Peter maneuver his way onto his bed, and pulled the covers over him as he fell asleep again. “Buona notte, Peter.” he whispered, and shut the door behind him. Now that Peter was in bed, he didn’t particularly feel like going back down to the lab again. Maybe he’d actually read the thousands of emails forwarded to him. Might as well make Pepper proud. He grabbed a StarkPad and flopped onto the couch. He turned on the fireplace, and propped a pillow under his feet. There would be no reason to leave, and if it came to it, it would be a pretty okay place to sleep. 
There were emails from the Board of Directors. There were emails from the President. There were emails from Pepper. A lot of emails from Pepper, actually. He trashed the unimportant ones, responded to pressing matters, and arranged meetings, all in the wee hours of the morning. It was the first time he’d felt like an actual business owner in a while. Take that, Pepper. You see, I can be productive on things that actually matter. Tony asked FRIDAY to put on some music. Something quiet, though, so he could relax and Peter could sleep. It ended up being Erik Satie, which surprised Tony. He never thought he’d like ambient piano music, but, there he was. 
On the same point, however, he never thought he would be putting a teenager to bed, either. Guess it was a night of firsts all around. He glanced at the clock in the upper right hand corner of the tablet. 2:23. It was probably time to pack it up and hit the hay. He put the tablet on the coffee table, and moved the pillow from under his feet to under his head. He closed his eyes, and tried to let himself drift off. It was hard. Whenever one of his waking moments wasn’t being occupied by some sort of task, his thoughts would always circle around to the same horrible thoughts. 
The first Snap. 
The Snap that brought everyone back. 
Seeing Peter again for the first time in five years. 
His Snap. 
Almost dying in front of the son he just got back. 
Almost dying in front of his wife. 
Almost not being able to make it home to his daughter. 
 Tony was able to push those thoughts aside, though. Unfortunately, Peter wasn’t as lucky. Tony woke up to the sound of FRIDAY’s voice, not even an hour later. It was at a much higher volume than normal, almost like FRIDAY was trying to shout at him. 
“Boss! Boss! Please, wake up. Peter needs help.” FRIDAY said. 
“Wha-” Tony rubbed his bleary eyes open. 
“Peter needs help.” FRIDAY repeated. Tony shot up from the couch, and activated his watch gauntlet. It was definitely paranoid that he wore it all the time, but damn if it didn’t come in handy sometimes. He sprinted barefoot down the hallway, and fumbled to get the door handle open. He stormed in, gauntlet extended, and repulsor fully charged. There was nobody else in the room. Just Peter, curled up in a ball on the bed, and… was he shaking? Upon closer inspection, he definitely was. He was sweaty, and his fists were balled tightly around the sheets. It was a nightmare. Tony was sure of it. He’d done the exact same thing just one too many times before. 
Tony pulled the gauntlet back into his watch face, and rushed over to the side of Peter’s bed. He placed a tentative hand on Peter’s shoulder, and squatted down so they were at the same eye level. Peter was breathing hard, and Tony could see the faint glisten of drying tear tracks on his cheeks. “Hey, Pete?” Tony asked softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You’ve gotta wake up. You’re safe, here, in the tower, not… wherever you are.” He brushed the damp curls out of Peter’s face. “Come on, buddy. You gotta get up.” 
Peter was trembling even harder. He was whimpering. They were little keening sounds like an animal in pain. Tony tried to shake Peter gently. “Peter, come on. Get up, kid. You’ve gotta-” Tony shook him a little bit harder, trying to coax him out of his fitful sleep. He moved his hand in soothing circles on Peter’s back. “Get up. Come on, Peter get up-” 
Peter woke up. He flew into a sitting position, and started to sob. He looked around blindly, and reached out, not expecting to touch anything. He groped for Tony’s arm, and as soon as he found it, held onto it like it was a lifeline. Peter’s eyes were wide open, but judging by the glassiness of them, Tony was sure he wasn’t really registering anything. 
“Mister- Mr. Stark… Mr. Stark-” Peter panted, and tried to scoot closer. Tony pulled him the rest of the way and into a tight hug. 
‘Hey… I’ve got you. You’re here, with me, and you’re safe. You’re not hurt- nobody’s gonna hurt you. You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re safe. You’re in the Tower, it’s nighttime, and it’s 2023.” 
Peter looked up at Tony, his eyes wide and wet. “I- I’m okay?” he asked carefully. “You’re not dead?” he flinched. 
“It was just a dream.” Tony said soothingly. 
“It didn’t feel like just a dream. It- it was so real.” 
“You promise? You were…” Peter’s breathing got faster, harder. “No, no… no. You can’t- you can’t be here. You were dead, and just… you can’t.” Peter ran a hand through his hair and used it to pull his chin closer to his chest. Tony reached out for Peter’s other hand. 
“I know, bambino. I know it feels real, but I promise, it’s not. Another promise? I’m here. I’m warm and alive and breathing.” Peter shifted himself to be able to look more at Tony’s face. He tentatively reached up and brushed the side of Tony’s cheek with his fingertips. 
“You’re here?” 
“I’m here.” Tony reassured. 
“We- were on Titan.” Peter managed to get out between sobs. “I was gone- and then I came back… just in time…” he took a deep, shuddering breath. “Just in time to watch you die. You were gone, and I- nobody knew what to do. I didn’t know what to do.” 
“It’s okay. I’m here, I’m safe, I’m alive. I’m here with you. Pepper and Morgan are safe. You’re safe. Thanos is gone. It’s- It’s all okay.” Tony pressed a small kiss into the crown of Peter’s head. 
Tony shifted a bit, so he was fully sitting on the bed. Peter’s head shot up, his eyes wide and pleading. ‘No! Please- please don’t leave me. Not again.” 
“I’m not leaving. Just getting a bit more comfortable. My old man body wouldn’t last much longer with only one cheek on the mattress.” Tony shushed, and managed to get a small laugh from Peter. 
“You are kinda old.” Peter mumbled. 
“So you must be feeling a bit better.” 
“Better now that you’re here.” Peter said sheepishly, and untangled himself from his position against Tony’s chest. “FRIDAY? Lights to thirty percent.” The room was filled with a dim light. Tony could see the dark bags under Peter’s eyes. 
“Have you been sleeping? I mean- is this a common occurrence? The whole nightmare thing?” Tony asked. 
“Uh… kinda. Kinda sleeping, but it’s hard. After… everything. I get these dreams a lot, but there not usually this bad.” 
“Me too.” They sat in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Do you want to…” Tony continued. “I don’t know, come sit with me? Before you woke me up, I was just answering emails. You can come sit on the couch with me, and I’ll get you some hot chocolate or something, and you can watch your dumb show.” 
“Catching up on five years of Brooklyn Nine-Nine that I’ve missed is not dumb.” 
“If you insist. Are you coming?” Tony got up, and offered a hand to Peter to help him off the bed. Peter took it gratefully, and followed Tony down to the kitchen.

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

[selfiealien-moved]

For The Ones We Left Behind

Read it on AO3!

Summary: They’re quiet for a moment, simply looking into the vast expanse of space. He has always loved the stars, always found them beautiful and fascinating. Ever since he was old enough to know they were there, he knew he just had to reach them one day.

It kills him a little that for all his love of the stars, and as happy as he is to see this all up close, a part of him would prefer to be back home. He misses his family so much. He had always planned to leave earth eventually, but not like this. Not when he isn’t even sure he will ever return.

“Coran, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course my boy!”

“Do you ever… get homesick?”

(Or, the one where Coran and Lance talk about the ones they've left behind)

(is a part of my together this time series but can be read as a standalone)

A/N:  Hey all! I hope you guys enjoy this, I really wanted to do something for Coran and Lance cause I feel like their relationship is so underappreciated. This is just meant to be a smaller convo since they don't know each other super well yet, but there is enough trust for them to talk about these things to a point. Also even though this is part of my au, this can totally be read as a standalone! -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What are you doing awake at this hour my boy?” Coran asks as exuberantly as ever, walking into the observation-- room? Deck? Lance isn’t exactly sure what to call it, but it sure has a great view of the stars, and that’s enough for him.

“Couldn’t sleep-”

Coran immediately cuts him off. “Oh is there something wrong with your rooms? I’m afraid I don’t know much about earth culture, do some of you sleep in different ways? I could always-”

“No no, Coran my room is great. Sometimes earthlings just find it…. Hard to sleep, for different reasons.”

“Oh. How interesting!” Lance is pretty sure nothing about that is interesting but well- its Coran, so he doesn’t comment.

“What about you, why are you still awake?”

Coran’s ever present smile stiffens just a little, almost imperceptibly, but Lance notices. He has a little bit too much experience in that field. 

“Oh you know, just checking in on the ol’ ship. It hasn’t flown in centuries, have to make sure it’s all in tip top shape!”

Lance knows thats a lie, but he doesn’t call him on it. 

They’re quiet for a moment, simply looking into the vast expanse of space. He has always loved the stars, always found them beautiful and fascinating. Ever since he was old enough to know they were there, he knew he just had to reach them one day. 

It kills him a little that for all his love of the stars, and as happy as he is to see this all up close, a part of him would prefer to be back home. He misses his family so much. He had always planned to leave earth eventually, but not like this. Not when he isn’t even sure he will ever return.

“Coran, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course my boy!”

“Do you ever… get homesick?” He watches the smile fade from Coran’s face and he mentally kicks himself. “I’m sorry, that was a dumb question, of course you do.”

“No such thing as stupid answers number three!” His bravado dies down as he takes a moment to think. “But yes, yes I do. Is that why you’re awake? You’re homesick?” His voice is gentle and kind, but Lance’s pride still feels a bit hurt to be called out. 

“Maybe. A little bit.” Lance sighs, keeping his eyes on the stars. “I’ve never wanted anything more than to go to space. But now that I’m here? I just… miss my family. I never even got to say goodbye.” He takes a shuddering breath. “I never got to tell my moms I love them one last time, or tell Marco he’s being an idiot and to just ask that damn guy out already-” He cuts himself off, because he’s too afraid to go on.

He’s not ready yet. He’s not ready to talk about how scared he is that he will never be there for the rest of his siblings weddings, that he won’t get to be Rachel’s man of honour- something they had discussed for as long as he can remember.

He’s especially terrified that he won’t see Sylvio and Nadia grow up, and that even if he does see them again, maybe he will have missed everything. Maybe when he sees them again they’ll be as old as he is now.

No, he can’t voice it, because he can barely even let himself think it if he wants to keep standing.

Not to mention, he feels a little insensitive to talk to Coran about his. His own family is still alive, but all Coran has is Allura. 

Luckily Coran speaks before he can start apologizing again. 

“My boy, I understand. I won’t give you false promises and tell you that you will see your family again no matter what. The truth is, this war is dangerous.” He pauses for a moment, and Lance can’t help deflating a little. “Even so, what you’re doing will protect them, and I can think of nothing more worthy or noble. It’s ok to miss home, and its ok to wish you could return, but you must remember why you are here.” And suddenly, Coran’s eyes grow a little glassy, and he gets a faraway look in his eyes. 

When he speaks again it’s little more than a whisper. “For them, always for them.” 

Lance looks at him a long moment, feeling as though he has seen a completely new person. He feels like he suddenly understands Coran so much better. They are both sad people, who desperately want to help others. 

Finally, he nods. “Thanks, Coran.” Another moment. “You’ve never really said, did you have family back on Altea?”

Coran takes in a sharp breath. “Well, my- what you earthlings call parents- were long gone by the time Zarkon took over. Alfor and Allura were who I considered family, but I did-” He cuts himself off, and Lance isn’t sure what to do when he noticed tears springing to his eyes. Coran clears his throat. “I had a son.” He takes a breath and clears his throat again. “Still, all gone now I suppose.” 

And immediately, Lance’s heart shatters for the man beside him. It was easy sometimes, to forget how much he and Allura had lost. The loss of an entire world was hard to fathom. It makes his complaints of missing his family feel so ridiculous and small in comparison.

“God, I’m sorry Coran.” A small pause. “What, uh what was his name? If you don’t mind me asking of course- I-I don’t mean to pry-”

“Garrett.” Coran’s voice cracks as he speaks. “His name was Garrett.”

“What was he like?”

Coran looks down in shame. “I- I was never close with him as his mother was. I was always too busy with my advisor duties, always around Alfor. It was no excuse, but still, I used it. She left with him when he was still a young boy, I saw him from time to time after that, but it was never the same.” He looks at Lance for a long moment. “Though you do remind me of him at times.”

“I-” Lance stutters, not really sure what to say.

“I never thanked you for saving me when rover blew up, so thank you.” 

And Lance is taken majorly off guard, because this feels like quite the subject change, and he thinks he might have whiplash. But he can’t blame him for changing the subject either, because Lance isn’t the most forthcoming about well, anything. Not to mention they still hardly know each other. Theres trust here now, and perhaps a new friendship, but that doesn’t make this a very… shareable topic.

“Ah no man you don’t have to- look anyone else on the team would’ve done the same.”

“Maybe, but it was still you. You have my gratitude. You’re the sort of man I hoped my son would become.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that so- “Coran, is it alright if I hug you?”

“Oh! I’ve heard about this, I’ve been told by Hunk that they are quite nice. Yes of course.”

Lance smiles- and no there are absolutely not tears in his eyes shut up- as he hugs Coran.

“Thanks Coran.” He takes a deep breath and notices the ache in his chest is just a little more bearable. And though he knows it won’t fade entirely until he is back in his family’s arms, at least he knows he can keep going. For them. “I feel a little better now.”

“Anytime number three.”

Lance looks out at space one more time, and allows himself a weak smile. “Come on, we better get some sleep if we’re gonna kick Zarkon’s butt tomorrow.”

“It would be unwise to go for Zarkon’s posterior, especially at this time-”

“It’s a figure of speech Coran.” Lance breathes out a small chuckle. “Point is, we’re gonna take him down, no matter what.” He looks at Coran for another moment, and considers everything that has been said tonight. “For the ones we’ve left behind.”

Lance isn’t sure it’s even possible for someone to look both grateful, but still in pain, but Coran manages it.

“For the ones we’ve left behind.”

[purplexflamingo]

" Hey doggie quit it! Stop! Bad dog-- my bones! MINE! 

Give it back, stupid dog!"

Nubbins stumbled around exclaiming, entirely frustrated with the playful pup. She softly growled and tugged at the large bone in his hands. All the ruckus caused Selma to exit the station, generally worried for her animals well being. Only to find herself cackling at the sight. The dog just wanted to play, desperately. Once Nubbins had the bone back Dallas body slammed him. Panting as her excited tail wagged back and forth.

" She just wants to play with ya, thats all, honey. Relax, I'll make sure she doesn't take your bone again."

Dallas just kept staring at him, all attention was on that bone till Selma restrained her. The lanky male pouted and mumbled words she couldn't hear. Treading on his way to god knows where. The boy just wouldn't stay in one spot. His brother would have a fit if he saw him roaming these parts. As she recalled he should be back at the farm.

Dallas whimpered and whined as he left her behind. But soon calmed when provided with plenty of fresh water to lap up. Ruffling her companion's head she went back inside. Back to work she told herself.

" Have ya thought about it, dear? It's tonight ya know. At seven o'clock sharp."

Drayton slaved away preparing the next batch to cook. It was a miracle he never burned a thing, he knew exactly how long to let them cook and when to pull them off the grills. Oh she’d observe him when he allowed it. A majority of the time before the grilling process she was not allowed in the kitchen. 

" Hmm?"

Tying an apron around her waist, she chirped reminding him and well it appeared he was barely listening anyways. Multitasking was a skill he could manage as long as there wasn't talking involved. 

" The church-- that gatherin' I told ya 'bout its tonight ya know. There'll be food and dancin'. Oh and games! Remember now? I told ya last week."

Shifting his attention towards her for a split second. Leaving a pot to boil on the stove. He responded moments later.

" Well, we'll see. I got lots of fixin' to do. I can't make promises right now, darlin’. Oh could you start on them dishes."

As asked she complied and began scrubbing away. Stacking them on the counter beside the sink to dry later.

" It'll be fun....to get out a little bit, yeah?"

She tried to talk him into it, but she wouldn't force him of course. If she did that, it would be a miserable time for both. There was no doubt she looked forward to it, even before his answer. She hadn't been out in a long while other than to work there or at the diner. It was tiring. Constantly having to remind herself to not put her own hopes up.

" I don't know I ain't one for big fancy parties. Church or not."

Frowning she decided to not push the matter, at least she assumed he'd think about it. Just couldn't promise a thing-- as he said earlier. When she finished the first round of dishes she decided to take her break. Reaching for her pup's leash she hooked it to the dog's worn collar. A walk was in order. Dallas deserved it and so did Selma. Not too far, but enough space away from work. Drayton's brother could be spotted not too far from them. He was an interesting fellow, Selma thought him to be  odd-- not in a bad sense. She treated him as she would anyone else. Though she was concerned for his well being. Carrying that knife all the time, his reckless running, he'd give her a heart attack. Even mentioning to Drayton how thin he was. Drayton's reply was always " That boy ain't starvin', never has been. I feed him well, he can't keep no god damn meat on them bones. Always been that way. Don't you go worryin' about him. He's fine!"

With a yank she snapped out of her thoughts.

The dog threw her head back looking at her owner, wide eyed, tongue hanging out the side of her smiling mouth. Eagerly awaiting for direction. 

" Whoa, Dallas no pullin'!"

Calling their walk to it's end, she had gone back to the building once she tied her pup up. It was busier than before, just in time for her to return. This proceed till shops closing. Apparently it was a large order to be prepped and ready for tomorrow morning. Must have been a big event, Selma could along predict. Desperate for the extra cash, this was what they've wanted. It was rare to come by.

----

Eying the clock it had been nearly an hour now since the party started. It was a shame, but there was little to be done about it. She wanted to mention how disappointed she was. Again it wasn't his fault nor was it fair to share such negative feelings. He worked so god damn hard this evening, she couldn't even recall him taking one break. Once she had to force him to, especially to eat. Caught up in all his work he forgets to care for himself. She worried what it was like when she wasn't there. Watching him work, she wondered if she should make him take one again.

" Ah, sorry, darlin'. I've got lots more fixin' to do. You....you go on right ahead, go to that party. I won't force ya to stay any longer. Y-You've done enough help today and I appreciate it. Now go, maybe you can make it in time."

 Drying her hands on a spare towel, she shook her head.

" Nah, I'll stay and help clean up. You must be exhausted. You stress me out sometimes, hun."

" Ain't nothin' business picks up 'round this time of the year. Now hurry on."

A toothy smile given. Brow curved upwards exposing his forehead wrinkles. Reluctant to look her in the eye. Feeling guilty for letting her down. Even if he necessarily didn't want to go. The least her could do was insist she go alone.

" Oh hush, I'm stayin' and you can't make me leave. You're gonna be here hours on end without me. Over workin' yourself till you can't stand no more. Let me bring Dallas in and I'll finish up the dishes first of all."

Pushing the doors open she went through the lobby area of the station to dog proof it. Yawning the dog stretched when being woken up outside and sleepily followed her in before plopping down on one of the floor mats. Returning to the kitchen he still slaved away. She admired his determination and his drive to pursue his dream. It's wonderful to have this as a career. Consuming so much of his foods over the past few months. She hasn't felt healthier. Returning to the sink she turned the knobs waiting for the water to spew. Sliding multiple plates, silverware, pots, pans, anything that would fit inside to soak. Soon shutting the faucet off to not overflow the sink. Slipping her hands into the water as she had all day. Tedious work, but her mind wonders, it was never a bore. Grabbing the wash rag she proceeded to scrub and clean each individual plate. The kitchen was full of silence aside from faint humming on her end. 

 By the time he finished it was eight o'clock. Entirely too late for that event. By now she wasn't upset anymore. Just being here with him was all she wanted. It took sometime to realize this. Arms snaked around her waist reaching into the sink. His body close behind hers, chin resting on her shoulder. It startled her some, her breath caught in her throat. Cheeks flushing. This man was a mystery and she had trouble reading him, she couldn't understand what was happening. Feeling him so close, was very imitate. Leaning her head against his, closing her eyes for a second. His hands helped her with washing. What she felt was far from explainable.  She sworn she felt his lips graze her jaw, kissing her. Flustering her, but she managed to finish her work with his help.

It was difficult when he stepped away, she wish he wouldn't. Standing so close to him was what she'd craved for so long. It was frustrating..

" W-wait one second before ya even try to leave."

Out of the kitchen he went and as asked she stayed put. Looking over the entire spotless kitchen. Proping herself up against the counter. Digits tapping against the wood. Directing her eyes toward the doors he went out of, she could've sworn she hear some noise. Sounding like music. This urged her to go check out of sheer curiosity and she did peak her head through the doors. The old dusty jukebox was lit up and playing at a low volume. Drayton extended his arms.

" Haha-- ain't much, but it's somethin'. Let’s celebrate!"

Putting two and two together she began to understand. It was his way of making it up to her, it had to be. She even spotted drinks at the booth. Bashfully she hid her face, in disbelief. This was fantastic. No one else was around. This was more one on one more than anything else.

" Hun,but you worked all day!"

" C'mere here, c'mere!"

Motioning her near, she glanced down at the floor, and walked up to him. Within a few inches from him he lifted her chin and she was met with a warm expression. Encouraging her to carry on. Both of them cracked open a nice cold beer. It was all that was available here. Selma was not much for drinking, but she made an exception this one time. Almost as if this were a celebration of some sorts. In way it almost was. A way to celebrate a job well done. The night was spent drinking a few cans and having a pleasurable time chatting and so on. When Drayton stood up so abruptly he dragged her to the center of the room. Explaining how he doesn't really care of music these days, but a few old tunes.

The one currently playing was one of his favorites. Then he coaxed her into dancing, the whole time she was laughing her head off and even lost her footing once. Though he was able to prevent her meeting the floor with what strength he had. 

 Hand resting against the middle of her back while the other held hers. From there he guided her and she let him. Taking a moment she got lost in his eyes. Reflecting on all these years, she still loved him. While she shouldn’t, she couldn’t help it. But did he still love her? What was he feeling? Why would he never say? 

 Resting her head against his shoulder, feeling at peace- so relaxed despite those overwhelming questions. She never wanted him to let go. Rising her head she searching his face before moving in for a kiss. Melting away any worries or doubts, if he rejects this then she’d have her answer. For her sake he met her half way. 

They spent the night in each others arms sharing another moment together in the near by booth. 

[myvoicenottheoneyougiveme]

I need to keep a tally of the number of times a day you veer left and right to hold up your teetering house of cards.

But if I speak up once a week right here... I’m suddenly, actually the one exerting monumental force in a colossal effort to rewrite reality as it stands. As though that’s not “this” (your game) every second of every day, day in and day out multiple times a day, over and over and over and over and over and over again.

A never ending tumble. Something you CANT leave alone. Someone you can’t leave alone. A reflection you can’t leave alone. A source and a dumpster. A scapegoat for you to use to aggrandize yourself and your victimhood.

You’ll excuse me if I read absolutely zero sincerity coming from someone just trying to get me to bend over and take “this”. You’ll excuse me if your actions speak louder than your words. You’ll excuse me if I read your attempts as nothing more than ploys to regain leverage on me. You mean what you say for five seconds before you don’t immediately get the reactions you want. When you “give” the way you always did, it is “instrumental”. You’re out to get a payoff. You don’t mean anything. You just want to “get”. Control, attention, affection, dominance over your source of supply and a reinforcement of the channel into which you dump everything in your reflection you want to distance yourself from.

You saw me “taking an interest” in a character I haven’t gotten to know at all, who has the same appeal as any character in her vein, perhaps even more so than the one she’s contrasted with. You then made a play with the feed. It was far too subtle, but there were a few stops there. All I saw was someone teeing me up for what came next. Rather than a genuine admission of fault or a sign of accountability (LOL) by the nebulous and insincere being behind “this”, you were opportunistically trying to capitalize on an opening, and you didn’t get the reaction you wanted.

The only way for you to deal with that fact, the only way for you to ever deal with rejection or invalidation is to make me into something or someone less than human. It was too subtle, in the first place, if you ask me. But it’s not like the door was exactly open to you all things considered. But the vibe, the pattern was illuminated by contrast with what came next. So, now that you’ve made some great display for 5 seconds as being the one who gets on their knees and “gives” and makes concessions and isn’t actually the taker/trampler in “this” picture--OH BABY FORGIVE ME, [keeps scrolling]--now you have a foothold or solid ground from which to launch your next move. Cause I clicked and SAVED that picture. 

Rejecting the “sincere” (wink wink) attempts to.... well do what exactly? Isn’t that where the wheels fall off? Actions, louder than words. But in the reality where you’ve made some kind of bullshit-sorry scratch-heartfelt plea, the person that denies you has to no right to, is that what you’re telling me? No one has a right to say “no” to you, is that what you’re telling me? OH, but you slithered into the ether behind the screen and donned the caricature; you GIVE so much...

The person that means anything they give, is the one capable of taking “no” for an answer. What is truly selfless is given without thought of reward. What is truly meant, is meant regardless of the response you get. How many times? How many times when you would disappoint or reject or say “not now”, did I ever meltdown and call you names?

The one that stands out to me the most? What I was meant to believe was some kind of genuine moment of connection, like so many before it. How many times? I remember this time because it was the first time I’d heard that group in years. “Come on come on... I’m taking you home. No one, no one belongs here more than you.”

AWW, NO THATS OK

Oh. Well, then I guess I’ll, see you tomorrow?

But I digress... by virtue of the fact that you made a momentary selfie of a display, you could now say that the fact that I saw that and didn’t return an affection in kind... Oh, what a taker I am. Oh, how I just squeeze the life out of you. Oh, feed me feed me. Make me feel wonderful. Lift me up.

DA KING

Like I received it at all in the first place, or like it makes me feel any kind of anything when it’s coming from someone as disingenuous as you. Oh, but it was given, and I saw it and I... I what? Rejected it? No no no, you, you downloaded that picture GRRRR. Ya, I downloaded a piece of fan art off the internet. And from this piece, you can extrapolate an entire new me, an entire straw man against which you can cast yourself in contrast. You’re gonna tell me what things are, tell me what I think about them, tell me what they mean to me, tell me who I am. Which makes you, what? That’s right. And I don’t even mean the implied meaning of that sentence there, where you’re head is so big, you know me better than I know myself. I mean precisely what I’ve been describing. You tell me, you shout it from the rooftops and on the hillsides before the whole world, and that makes you.... NOT that. Not whatever you are pointing and screaming about me. You get to be NOT the thing you paint me as when you paint me as that.

Make me one thing, makes you another thing.

That’s my whole point. “This” can never end. What you get out of “this”, is myriad, but it’s simply allowing you to bolster a reflection about yourself at someone else’s expense. Your colossal never-ending exertion day in and day out every moment of every day, every chance you get multiple times a day.... SERIOUSLY, if I’m such an awful evil terrible person, WHY would you seek to POSSESS me? Oh, well, I just, it’s just my tragic flaw. Oh, I’m such a victim, I can’t help being drawn to destructive men. Oh, everyone see, see, I’m so helplessly enamored with this guy that rejects me and tells me how awful I am and all these terrible terrible lies. Oh me oh my. Feel sorry for me, everyone.

“This” can go in so many directions but every single one, is where you get to play the victim. For every turn there’s a reversal, and we need only NEVER look at how the rules the rest of us live by don’t apply to you. We need not ever look at what YOU are doing to me. No no no. We can’t have that. Then you’re naming me the very same person that’s in your mirror as you’re being that person.

You do “this” to me. You stalk me. You harass me. You wage a colossal effort with so many moving parts... to? To what? OH, I’m just protecting myself. I’m just holding YOU, that’s right, YOU accountable. I’m sorry, are we in a “relationship”? Are we anything? No, but but ...Ok, all you do is scream and point fingers endlessly, day in and day out. You live to lift yourself up on that throne of lies and to rope in as many people as you possibly can. You sure you don’t need “this”? You sure you don’t need to feel powerful and in control? Who is “this” for? Who? You are constantly scratching and clawing and trying to get attention back on yourself and to create openings and to improvise anything and everything you can to empower yourself and to justify yourself and to give you license to be GOD on earth... for WHAT? For WHO?

Every second you have access to me is another second you can spend flailing around on the ground like someone having a seizure at the scene of a car crash. (This is a joke people say sometimes, “I’ll practice my twitching and drooling”.) EVERYONE EVERYONE PAY ATTENTION TO YOU. Oh, oh oh, how awful. Oh, my, what has he done this time my dear? She drove headlong fullspeed into the side of my... SHUTUP NOBODY ASKED YOU, we were asking HER.

I mean you could make a rear-end collision somehow the driver-in-front-of-you’s fault. And what’s worse? I’m somehow obligated to you. I owe you, someone I’ve said “no” to. I’m not moving. I’m not moving. I’m not opening the door. I want nothing to do with you. I’m not trapping you making your life a prison or trying to squeeze a damned thing out of you as I say it either. I’m simply DONE. So, when you get a running start and break your poor wittle neck diving head first into a closed door? Oh, that’s just MORE PROOF. MORE PROOF. See, look what he’s done to our princess! See, her broken body!

This rant brought to you by, a singular instance of worn patience and/or a chosen battle. But if I speak up at all, suddenly I’m doing everything you’re doing to me every second of every day, day in and day out.

I have to be the parts of your reflection you don’t want. I have to be guilty of the things you’re actually responsible for and then some, so you never have to hold yourself accountable. It’s a power trip. It’s a damned ego trip.

The moment I, I exert any effort in trying to pry you, PSYCHO, off of my neck, I’m suddenly to blame for everything that’s actually... you. As though you weren’t doing any of these things. You, by virtue of being the one shouting the longest and the loudest and the most often, you take all attention off of your insecurities and put them on your scapegoat. You get all the attention you want and none that you don’t. But it’s yourself you’re hiding from. You get to feel like someone else. You get to feel like the victim.

To rewrite reality, to hide from your own reflection, requires and CONSTANT never-ending stream of mirroring. To maintain your self-regard and protect yourself from your own insecurities, you mount a colossal effort to never EVER face up to what you don’t want to face up to. Just the act of attacking me whether you get anything from me or not, cause it’s all the time, all the time, never stops. Everywhere all the time. Just the act of attacking me is solidifying your reflection. It doesn’t matter if it never pans out. It doesn’t matter if it’s never true. It doesn’t matter. You are playing a never-ending perpetual-motion game of hopscotch when the floor in the cracks is lava. It’s a race to outrun what you can’t ever actually finally outrun for good, yourself.

You have to fight and scratch and claw and live and breathe “This” game you play on my life, because it’s how you regulate yourself and your own emotional states. “This” house of cards WILL blow over without a constant never ending input from you and those you conscript. It’s both outside in the reflections you get, but it’s inside more than anything.

I don’t need to know you or what you’re thinking, to see and know what you’re doing. It’s a frantic desperate, never-ending effort of such massive proportions to, in lieu of squeezing me for all the time and attention you can get, making me something you can set yourself in contrast with. ...All day, every day, it’s the same thing, over and over and over and over again. Possess, own, dominate, control, coerce, extort, manipulate... scratch and claw and beat down and... I reject you. I deny you. I said “no” to you. I said, “get help” and we’ll come back at another time. We have to work on ourselves. We can’t do “this”. You didn’t take “no” for an answer. You escalated.

But I’m really not convinced, “this” ever amounted to anything in reality. But still, even if I suspend my disbelief for a moment... you didn’t take “no” for an answer. And every rejection, every sting of invalidating rejection, puts you into a position you can’t be in, face to face with all of your insecurities and all of the things that have ever gone wrong for you in relationships that you CANT bear any responsibility in. The more I don’t budge, the more the wall pushes back, the more adamant I’ve been forced to become, the more I’ve attempted then to hold up a mirror to your psycho behavior because you WONT FUCKING STOP, then the more you have to HAVE TO make me into some kind of villain. What other choice do you have? Sink into all of your self-loathing despair? Come face to face with all of your negative self-talk and all the ways you actually blame yourself? But it’s all or nothing. It’s always all or nothing. It’s always 1 or 0. One of us is everything wrong with the world (not because either of us necessarily actually is), and it sure as hell isn’t going to be you. That’s the zero sum game you’re playing with yourself. There is hatred and loathing and blame blame blame, and SOMEONE has to bear it.

It’s the conversation between Max Caulfield and Chloe Price. Someone HAS TO BE RESPONSIBLE, HAS TO BE TO BLAME, because otherwise it’s her fault. That’s completely between her and herself. That’s not coming from anyone but herself. That absolutely ZERO SUM game. ...Trauma.

I don’t care if you’re a narcissist or anything. I only care that you’re abusive, and that I can’t stand you. Someone has to be the sacrifice for everything wrong in your YOUR world because of this false choice. What you get out of “this” in lieu of “supposedly” an interest in ME of all people, is a scapegoat for what otherwise is eating you alive every second of every day.

Direct it at me then, that’s what happens. Direct it at me then. Let your rage and hatred and anger and toxic caustic bile that’s destroying you, instead destroy me. Because it’s bubbling up every second of every day, you’re bubbling up passing it all on directly to me. “This” monumental effort to install a new reality, to hold up a house of cards, every second of every day, unrelenting, without end. Put it on me, force it down my throat, cast yourself as the victim and everything right with “this” picture. Gaslight me. Triangulate everyone within reach. 

Everything, everything. And you sleep around, but I’m an awful sleazy horny piece of shit. Cause you can’t be a whore. You name it, if it’s a part of you and it makes you feel badly (whether warranted or not), I have to be it. Stalker names STALKER. Stalker director of “this” show names, BAD TRAMPLER OF BOUNDARIES. BEWARE everyone, don’t give him the wrong idea, you won’t be rid of him. You, you, you say this. You the person doing “this” says this. But that’s why you refer so frequently. Because that’s your reflection every second of every day.

I am the means, the vehicle to you managing your reflection. When you’re feeling any kind of way, you regulate it through me. You will have your way with me. You will get whatever you want from me, and you will not be denied. And you will not be held responsible for your own actions, and you will not be told no, and you will not be told that what you’re doing is wrong, and you will not be held accountable for the harm you knowingly inflict. What you get is as myriad as what your aim is at any given relative moment, but the pattern is simple...

You want love and affection and attention the same as anyone else, and you have deep wounds that torment you. The first is an attempt to medicate the second. Whether from failure at the first or skipping straight to the second, it all HAS TO BE REGULATED through SOMEONE. Something, someone outside of yourself. Whether that’s gathering as many people as possible to yourself at any given moment and wielding power that way over your reflection or scapegoating me. There are simply things in the reflection you get from me that you CANT deal with. Whether that’s rejection or calling you out for being abusive and daring to put a label on it as if it needed it.

Every second of every day, you are attempting to right the ship. Every second of every day is an attempt to reverse reality, whatever part of it is making you feel especially insecure and down on yourself at any given moment. All of “this” is to get out of me what you NEED to soothe and regulate yourself at any given moment. In lieu of getting a one-sided one-way street kind of relationship where you are bathed in love and affection as though I were your parent and you not obligated to behave like a human being or maintain any semblance whatsoever of a balanced reciprocal ANYTHING (relationship?! LOL), you put on me the darkness you then otherwise feel between you and yourself.

Zero-sum. False choice. You the evil awful terrible object that is everything wrong with the world because that’s the infantile state you would be otherwise reduced to. Instead of being to blame for being rejected, harmed, invalidated, neglected, instead of being the object of your own rage, you place me there.

There are many stories, I want to finally finish. Life is Strange being one of them. But I’m never going to forget that bit from that conversation. About half-way through, in the truck, friend trying to talk sense into her. Blaming everyone, blaming the whole world, putting all on everyone else... why? Because the only alternative was to feel that toward herself.

Trauma. Zero-sum. And that was your chosen representation/character and point of identification.

You don’t have to have a fancy psychological label to be doing this. People are so much more complicated than that. And there’s a long gradient between fully self-aware and just being completely reactive chaos playing out a pathological pattern. The difference between you and your partner in crime (literally) is marked, always was.

But you are torturing me. You are killing me. You have been for years.

Zero-sum.

The lengths you go to, it’s zero-sum. Not because it is, but because that’s how you experience it. Because the pain and the trauma you carry necessitates it, “this” is how you cope.